I Saw a Sacred Balinese Ritual Yesterday—and a Young Woman Was Leading It
At 9:15 on a Saturday morning, I stood holding the hand of my son, Ade—who would turn four next month—as he stood beside me. We watched a Sekaa Gambelan (traditional gamelan ensemble) play music to accompany the Topeng Sidakarya dance, which was taking place in the southern section of my uncle’s courtyard.
Yesterday had marked the peak of the Dewa Yadnya ceremony at my uncle’s house. The chanting of the Sekaa Kidung (sacred vocal group) had been drifting through the air since 9:00 AM. In the center of the courtyard, the Ida Pedanda (high priest) had begun to pray, reciting mantras while ringing the ritual bell held in his left hand; the sound of the bell signaled that the ceremony was underway. Incense smoke wafted across the courtyard, carrying the fragrance of sandalwood and agarwood into every corner.
My gaze was suddenly drawn to the Bale Daja (northern pavilion), where a wayang troupe was preparing for a Wayang Lemah performance. I spotted a figure sitting cross-legged behind the banana-trunk log used for the puppet display. It was a beautiful young woman wearing a white kebaya; she appeared to be in her early twenties. Her eyes were closed, and her expression was solemn and reverent, with her hands clasped in prayer before her forehead. Her lips moved softly as she recited mantras to initiate the proceedings. A pejati offering sat before her, accompanied by a stick of incense whose smoke curled gently into the air.
Having completed the preparatory rituals, she began to open the wayang chest and remove, one by one, the puppet characters she would use in the performance.
I watched, transfixed; it was the first time I had ever seen a female dalang (puppeteer). I was particularly struck by how young she was to be performing this sacred wayang ritual.
Typically, wayang performances take place at night for entertainment purposes. Wayang Lemah, however, is different; it is performed in the morning, midday, or afternoon, depending on the timing of the yadnya ceremony. Wayang Lemah is one of Bali’s three sacred puppet traditions, performed to accompany Hindu ceremonies in Bali, particularly those within the Panca Yadnya cycle.
The distinctive characteristics of Wayang Lemah include:
No special stage is required for the performance; it takes place within the vicinity of the ceremony.
No projection screen is used; instead, a thread is stretched between dapdap wood stakes planted in a banana-trunk base.
No oil lamps are used, as the performance does not take place at night.
Musical accompaniment typically consists of only two gender wayang instruments.
The primary audience is not human—it is performed for the gods and ancestral spirits.
The duration is determined by the priest's prayers; when the priest finishes, the performance concludes, regardless of where the story leaves off.
To this day, I remain amazed by that young puppeteer.
Tradition does not survive merely because it is old; it thrives because the young choose to carry its sacred weight with love and devotion.
Take a moment this week to look closer at your own local culture or heritage. Behind the ancient rituals and historic landmarks, notice the young people who are quietly stepping up to keep those traditions alive through selfless service. Reach out to one of them, or simply learn one small thing about how they keep their roots strong—you might just find that the future of our shared heritage rests in the most unexpected, youthful hands.
