Day celebration. Great celebration for the people of Islam. E 'in memory of a sacrifice moved almost impossible to pronounce, a father able to sacrifice his son on the altar of an ideal. That sounds dangerously close to idol.
The first call to prayer is heard only in Hindu Bali. The ancient formula rebounds shy of the low houses, restaurants still empty hotels.
Whole families, elegant dresses, shaman of the few Muslim neighborhoods to the mosque for the prayer of 9. The women, sitting behind the scooter, they greet each having balance in one or two small children, protected from the sun with a batik scarf. Husbands, in shorts and zuccotto, driving, smoking and brief address to friends. On the streets mingle with other families, now Hindus, who go, always in motion, other ceremonies, sarong and white shirt boys, lace blouse and sarong colorful ladies.
In a neighborhood of the village of Tuban, a group of people has just begun the ritual sacrifice. Like every year, neighbors, relatives and friends get together and break down some livestock, purchased by wealthy members of the community and killed on the spot.
Pak Rahman invited me to attend what looks like a festive open-air butcher shop. There is a hole in the ground where hath been consumed in the bloodiest phase. After a little 'to take away land from the eyes of all the red product of slaughter and will seal in an underground womb. Each family, Rahman whispers, receives a bag with 4 ounces of meat mixture, a little more 'a few bones and offal. All the same amount which, when diluted in a juicy rich stew (called gule kambing), will be the hearty meal of celebration.
Now, under the blue tents, muscular young men busy themselves with axes and knives, meat resting on simple wooden planks. Women go through water, teh and rice cooked in banana leaf. The sight of the camera lights up the atmosphere and everyone wants to be taken. Some of 'em big pulpy touches. Others wield enormous skulls with horns. Screaming, shouting, hellomister . Prevails in the fold jolly precise packing parcels, despite the red materiality of bodies dismembered. The thought of the impending meal feeding la burla e lo sberleffo. Rahman mi indica il più scatenato, quello col cartello con scritto “capra n°1”, è il matto, sospira.
Il quartiere è un miscuglio di etnie da ogni parte dell’Indonesia, continua Rahman, e tutti gli abitanti, oggi, danno una mano, anche se appartengono a fedi diverse. L’imam, arrivato da poco, si avvicina per un saluto di benvenuto e si augura di vedermi alla moschea l’anno prossimo.
Tra queste casupole, al margine di un sentiero sconnesso, si respira forte il senso del sacrificio condiviso, declinato in una convivenza pacifica e solidale, condita con carne halal .
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