The First Holy Communion (by Laurent)

Before leaving to Indonesia we decided that I would write something on Cora and Damien blog yet it wasn´t clear what. During our time in Indonesia, we discussed several possible subjects. I thought about doing a gastronomy column, but it turns out that our first week of food in Indonesia was the dark spot in my gastronomic year. The only high point was the chilly sauce which could transform a not good dish (e.g.: lukewarm fishballs) into something edible (e.g.: lukewarm fishballs with chilly sauce). I then thought about writing a column about why Indonesians are the only people to think that Belgians are cooler than Irish people. I was already very surprised that people knew about Belgians, but that people were then rating us cooler as the Irish…wow. I think it has something to do with a nun called “mama belgi”… She was a nun called Marie-Jeanne Colson, who worked with children on the Island of Flores, and was very popular. Nuns are probably Belgium`s finest export (not fries, not beers): did you know that the only Belgian artist to ever top the US billboard is the “Singing Nun”?

Anyway, I could not really write a column about nuns, or Belgians, or bad food. Who would read about that? Instead I decided to write about one of the best and most interesting experiences we had during our holidays in Indonesia: a Holy Communion.

After a very long car trip from Moni we arrived in Riung (on the north coast of Flores). We were all tired from the trip (not only because of the very winding roads, but also because we had to listen about 50 times to the favourite song of our guide “How to love a woman” (by Lionel Richie and Enrique Iglesias). The town seemed quite small and quiet, until we heard really loud boom boom music and thought that a beach party was taking place. We asked around, and it turned out that it was only some families testing their soundsystems ahead of the holy communion´s parties due to take place the day after. The testing lasted most of the night.

Lovely Riung

Our guide told us that he knew a family (he seemed to know the whole island) and that we could go to their house in the evening for the party. We were a bit reluctant at first, but after having taken part to a funeral and some pigs´ killings a week before, a holy communion seemed like a nice, fun and overall very lovely affair.

It was all of that and much more! You could think that a Catholic Holy Communion would be fairly similar around the world. Well it is not. It took place in a big tent with a big stage at the end. On the stage was a throne, on the throne was the kid dressed up in some sort of suit (much more stylish than the white robe I had to wear during my own holy communion). The kid sits on the throne all evening, and the guests queue up in front of him to congratulate him and give him presents. The presents were not a bike, a PS3 or an MP3 player, but pigs, chicken etc. We gave a bit of money (because we had no pigs to give, and also we were told that it was fine like this). I think the kid was a bit bored… it is nice and all to sit on a throne for a while, but after a few hours it can get boring, especially because his friends seemed to have a fun time laughing at us.

The kid with a cool outfit (but a bit bored) on his throne.

The family was very welcoming, and we were offered drinks and food. We already had eaten before going but we could not refuse the offer, so we went for a second serving of food. This was not an issue, it was good, and no chilli sauce was needed. We ate looking at the kid on his throne.

The crowd was rather quiet, sitting facing the kid. It was not like in Belgium where family sits around a table eating and talking for hours. Here all the chairs were put in line facing the kid, and people were chatting and smoking facing the kid, and occasionally hitting the buffet. Food was definitely not the central part of the party, the kid was. There were Catholics and Muslims in the crowd (neighbours and friends invited by the family). This was great to see this happening.

At some point people started to dance, and we were invited to join them. We were all a bit shy and politely refused. But they got more insistent so we went (they also offered us some arak, this might have helped).

The arak that might have helped

After a bit of arak, we decided to go do some traditional dancing. The moves were not too complex but it still took us quite a bit of time and effort to get it somehow right. After a dance or two, we got more in the vibe. We took part to the “bird dance”: people dance in circle and one person in the middle does the bird for a bit and then pick another person to do the bird and so on. Damien was particularly good at this, using a piece of fabric to imitate the wings was ingenious indeed, and the guests liked it very much.

Damien doing the bird (note the nice work with the fingers)

We also met one of the uncles of the kid, who was particularly happy to dance with us. While most of the dancers were quite restrained in their dancing, he was on fire and was very happy to show us his moves. With his open shirt and his moustache, he looked like some sort of Indonesian Ricky Martin. I decided to battle with him and did most of the moves I know (about 5 or 6). For a short moment I was the Belgian Usher. People liked it including Caoimhe. But then I got too warm and had to sit down… it didn´t last very long and we had to go back to the dance floor for some further dancing. Eventually we went back home driving through the village and looking at all the other communion parties, the whole village was celebrating. When we woke up in the morning to drive further to Bajawa, the music was still playing in some places…

It was great to experience something familiar (a kid´s communion), which is at the same time so different. We felt really welcomed by the whole family and the whole village. Riung is a must go in Flores: beautiful landscapes, uber friendly and relaxed locals and the best grilled fish of the holiday.