Magic is definitely in the air lately. A work colleague of mine, an Indonesian of Javanese ethnicity, confided in me this morning that his house is haunted. He has recently purchased a new house but he and his family have not moved in yet. They are still living in their previously rented accommodation for a little while longer. However, my colleague has slept alone in the new house on a couple of occasions, without his wife and daughter.
During these sleep-overs he heard a baby crying and heard someone running around outside and inside the house. My colleague visits a sufi master every week and when he talked about these events, his master explained that his house was occupied by a gondoruwo, a cruel, Yeti-like ghost who has two ghost children, a baby and a teenager. They were apparently there before the house was built. This particular gondoruwo has the capacity to cause a lot of mischief and disruption to the future residents unless it can be removed.
Apparently ghost-busting remedies are available but they do not come cheaply. What is required is an apelgin, a term that translates as ghost apple, and it costs about US$200. I'm a little unclear about what it actually looks like or how it is used, because our conversation was disrupted prematurely. The device is imported from the Middle East and contains special fragrances that can effect the exorcism. I'll certainly report back on my colleagues ghost-busting progress.
In the meantime, it's fascinating to realise that there is not only a recognition of distinct categories of ghosts but also clearly defined methods of dealing with the pesky things. A few months ago, I was introduced to a particular category of ghost known as a tuyul. This type of spirit takes the form of an unseen small child and obtains wealth for its human master. It can enter people's houses and steal wallets and other valuables. In return, the tuyul is afforded a special bed in the master's house and may be breast-fed by the woman of the house.
I had been in Indonesia six years and I'd never heard mention of a tuyul, but of course I'd never asked. Once I did, every Indonesian I talked to knew about this type of ghost and was happy to share stories he or she had heard about them. No one ever scoffed at the idea and it was quite clear that such creatures were simply regarded as a fact of life. It was about this time that I realised I had no idea what was going on here. I was and still am a stranger in a strange land.
During these sleep-overs he heard a baby crying and heard someone running around outside and inside the house. My colleague visits a sufi master every week and when he talked about these events, his master explained that his house was occupied by a gondoruwo, a cruel, Yeti-like ghost who has two ghost children, a baby and a teenager. They were apparently there before the house was built. This particular gondoruwo has the capacity to cause a lot of mischief and disruption to the future residents unless it can be removed.
Apparently ghost-busting remedies are available but they do not come cheaply. What is required is an apelgin, a term that translates as ghost apple, and it costs about US$200. I'm a little unclear about what it actually looks like or how it is used, because our conversation was disrupted prematurely. The device is imported from the Middle East and contains special fragrances that can effect the exorcism. I'll certainly report back on my colleagues ghost-busting progress.
In the meantime, it's fascinating to realise that there is not only a recognition of distinct categories of ghosts but also clearly defined methods of dealing with the pesky things. A few months ago, I was introduced to a particular category of ghost known as a tuyul. This type of spirit takes the form of an unseen small child and obtains wealth for its human master. It can enter people's houses and steal wallets and other valuables. In return, the tuyul is afforded a special bed in the master's house and may be breast-fed by the woman of the house.
I had been in Indonesia six years and I'd never heard mention of a tuyul, but of course I'd never asked. Once I did, every Indonesian I talked to knew about this type of ghost and was happy to share stories he or she had heard about them. No one ever scoffed at the idea and it was quite clear that such creatures were simply regarded as a fact of life. It was about this time that I realised I had no idea what was going on here. I was and still am a stranger in a strange land.
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