Shake This Hand in Marriage

I guess the reference to body parts in the titles of my blogs so far started out as a coincidence. Arms for the Poor, Handicrafts...etc. But I quite like it as an ongoing theme. So many people rely on their bodies for survival here in a way we just don't at home. Extending a hand out to beg, waving a lightstick to direct traffic, making art and craft and customised everything, handwashing, cooking. All the labourers I've seen here do all their work with a minimum of tools. I saw a group of workers pulling an electrical cable from the ground like it was a game of tug-o-war. In the middle of busy traffic. I saw a group of men paving the ground using string, chalk and pieces of wood. I saw another group sweep leaves and debri from the side of the road into a truck using a plank and a dustpan. Even hands themselves are significant. Handshakes, making sure you use your right hand (difficult for a couple of the lefthanded ACICIS students) when giving and accepting things. Even the traditional handshake here (which I am a huge fan of) where you clasp someone's hand between your own flat palms while they simultaneously do the same. I love it. No agression, dominance or assertion. Just mutual recognition.

Handshaking is something I did a lot of this last Sunday. My friend Heri, an orang Jawa asli (native Javanese person) I met at ANU doing Saman dance (a traditional Acehnese dance, using rhythmic hand clapping and singing...I've joined a group here, so I'll be sure to post all about that including photos and videos when we perform later), messaged me on Friday to tell me he was coming from Jakarta to Yogya for a wedding and that if I liked I could come along. Despite the fact I had never met the couple getting married in my life, it was perfectly acceptable for me to tag along, and the only condition was that I wear batik (see 2nd post "Handicrafts"). Easy. So, on Saturday, between Futsal tournaments (also a forthcoming post) I went shopping in Malioboro (i.e. tourist street, Yogya) for some batik. I didn't have much time, and I used most of that little time buying a pair of the coolest flats in the world. For all those who don't care, please skip to the next paragraph. Anyway, these purple shoes are complete with wooden buttons, cute peeptoe, and some sharp colourful flowers on them. Pretty much the coolest shoes I've ever owned, with the possible exception of my black Converse with rainbow hearts.

So, I pretty much picked the first dress I saw, which turned out to be an awesome, authentic batik number, about $24, tie around the waist. The only problem was that the sleeves were a bit...puffy...true to some current Indonesian fashion, and the hem could be hemmed a bit more. When I get around to it, I'll add it to my pile of things to be adjusted by a local tailor for some unfairly low price. Here's me wearing the dress after the wedding at a mushroom farm (attached to the mushroom restaurant Jejamuran Heri, his friends and I went to afterwards). I pinned the sleeves to avoid looking too early nineties. I'm also a bit nervous because mushroom farms are kind of gross, and I was very close to a lot of mushrooms growing out of plastic bags filled with decomposing compost adding to the exceptional heat and humidity of that particular day.

The wedding was pretty similar to the one I went to in Malaysia (if you missed that one, have a look) You came in, signed the guest book and received your present (a cool bottleopener printed with the details of the wedding), shook hands using the above methodology with about 16 different important guests including the parents of each of the newlyweds, shook hands with the newlyweds, took advantage of the awesome food and then got your photo taken with the newlyweds. I think this was just the reception, and all the traditional ceremonies that take about three days (according to Heri) get done beforehand. I think all that is meant to be really boring, and I think it's very considerate of a family to only invite people to the reception. I'll remember that for future reference.

So, the only other parts about the wedding that were interesting were the ice-statues (pretty, but a giant waste of time in a tropical climate), the stall-like buffet, and the fact that one of Heri's friends is actually one of my lecturers from Introduction to Peace Studies (and who, incidently, has decided that he is obligated, now he has met me, to take me under his wing; and unecessarily so, in my opinion). Which brings us to the time where we must let the photos speak for themselves!! Thanks for tuning in!!

Look! I'm not the only bule (white person)!!