Gamelan Bintang Wahyu

I was saving the Gamelan pictures for Josie to post and blog about, but she hasn't felt like doing it, so I am going to do it. In this picture, you can see Josie and I playing instruments that appear to be the same, but really they are quite different. Josie is playing the jegogan, which is a very low-pitched metallophone. The one I am playing, which Josie says is called a penyacah, and she may very well be right about that, is two octaves higher. (penyacah; cah sounds like "cha".) The jublag, not pictured, falls between these two. If you tried to lift them, you would also be able to tell the difference, because the jegogan is much, much heavier. Like all the gamelan instruments, they come in pairs, one of the pair pitched slightly higher and one slightly lower, to produce "beats" in the music, which ends up with a shimmery, calliope-like sound in the metallophones.

Here is Josie playing the reyong, which is the one she likes to play the best. It is also the most difficult to learn the techniques for, both the striking and the dampening. But Josie likes it! Just behind her you can see the jublags, which may look like the jegogan and the penyacah to you, but they really do have their differences--size and pitch. The reyong is played by four players, each of whom has only a couple of the knobbed gongs to worry about--and that is plenty! The rhythms are tricky.

Here Josie is playing the gongs. It is said that the gong was invented so that the ordinary people could communicate with the Gods, high in their mountain-top homes. Our gamelan has three large gongs, and it was Josie's privelege to hit one of these every four counts in Puspanjali. Our friend Kourtnee, seen behind Josie in the top picture, hit the highest pitched of the three for that particular piece.
Here is Josie playing a kendang. The kendangs come in different sizes. The kendang is exactly what it looks like, a drum, so it just sounds like a drum. Josie plays the kendang in one of our pieces. With thanks to David, for getting up early and visiting our early morning practise to be our photographer. (Gamelan music can be a little loud, so the only time the HFAC can schedule us is early morning, so our sound doesn't interfere with other classes.)

The last picture shows the other side of the gamelan -- the ugals and the gangsas. There are eight gangsas, in four groups of slightly different instruments in size and pitch. The ugals carry the melody or play really spiffy ornamentations, and you have to be very brave to play them, so you will probably never see me sitting behind one of them. I played gangsa in the topeng. There are some Youtube videos of us playing, but I will have to find the links later. So...there is a quick introduction to Gamelan.

Puspanjali:http://fr.youtube.com/watch?v=pTvxa_CVuC4
Capung Gantung:http://fr.youtube.com/watch?v=IwRamNXhGIc
Sekar Sungsang:http://fr.youtube.com/watch?v=kkFD_AXZ-sU
Topeng Keras:http://fr.youtube.com/watch?v=JrFDNSa3d48
All videos courtesy of our friend Tanielle, who is a real Indonesian. (Our Gamelan is Balinese. Bali is in Indonesia. Just so you know.)

Shopping memory

Wow, my kids inspire me! I would have nothing to say if they didn't blog and give me ideas. Abbi blogged about shopping with her kids, and it was so funny...too bad it doesn't seem as funny while it is happening...like the time we went shopping once in about 1981.

It was a gorgeous day in sunny southern California. Like many days, we had Jenna and Lance at our house. Their parents were working hard at building their business, and some days we got little pajama-clad kiddies in the morning, and sent little pajama-clad kids home at night. This was one of those days.

Lance would have been not yet one--about 9 or 10 months old. Jenna was two, Abbi was almost three, and Kelli was almost four. I had my hands full! But it was fun! This particular day, Bruce was home, and we were going to the beach. We got a picnic ready, had the sand toys, suits and towels packed in the car. We just had to make one little stop at Gemco.

Gemco was like a Super Walmart...everything you could think of to buy. We were the managers of our apartment complex, and needed to stop and buy something for the apartments, like weed killer or something? Who remembers! Not me...

We got a shopping cart, and put Lance in the little seat, and lifted 1, 2, 3 girls into the basket part, and warned them all to SIT DOWN. We were in the "weed killer and other poisons" aisle when two things happened at once--Bruce drew my attention away to the right hand side of the cart to show me something for like two seconds, and one of the girls saw something cool that just cried out to be touched on the left hand side of the cart, and if one had to touch it, they all did.

I swear, it was only about two seconds, and what made me turn around suddenly was the crash of the cart, the screams of three little girls (one of whom had a high pitched wail that could shatter glass--hmm, was it the screaming or the cart knocking into all the glass bottles of poison that caused them to break?) and a baby's frightened cry. The cart and the kids and the glass bottles of poison were all down for the count.

If you have ever wondered in a store, "Doesn't anyone work here? Where are the clerks?" just pull this kind of a stunt with a cart full of kids, and I guarantee that you will find out how many people work there! They were all so kind, helping to pick up and soothe kids, clean up the mess...and instead of going to the beach, we headed for home and everyone who had been soaking in poison had a warm soapy bath, followed by naps all around!

Tagged

I have been tagged several times by my daughters to tell 8 quirky things about myself. I have been slow to respond because a) there are so many quirky things about me, I didn't know what to choose, and b) they have already tagged any of the people I would tag, so I can't play the game completely. But, after carefully making a list over a period of time, I think I can at least tell you 8 quirky things about myself that won't be too embarrassing...

1. I talk to myself all the time if I am alone. I explain to me what I am doing, and make comments about what I could or should do, ask myself questions; just generally keep the self-talk going.

2. When I am concentrating really hard, I stick my tongue out just a little bit, always on the right side of my mouth. Never the middle or the left side.

3. I prefer to sit with my knees up. I have done this my whole life, in spite of my mother telling me over and over again that it isn't very ladylike. I am just more comfortable that way. This did get me into trouble once, when I put my knees up inside my nightgown and then got off balance and tipped over right onto my face on the floor, smashing the corner of my glasses into my left eyebrow, which required a run to the emergency room for stitches. And it was a little embarrassing to describe how the accident happened, but hey...only one accident because of that little quirk in 50 years is not so bad.

4. I was thinking the other night, while watching Bruce take his T-shirt off, that he does it in a very quirky way. He always reaches one hand behind his neck, grabs his T-shirt in the middle and kind of pulls it over his head from back to front. I don't do it that way, but that made me think that he probably thinks that I take mine off in a very quirky way, too. I cross my hands in front and pull it over my head from the front to the back, from the hem of the shirt.

5. I have a cold right leg. It is always colder than my left leg. While I love going barefoot, my right leg and foot always cries out for a sock.

6. If I don't have my glasses on, I can't answer the phone because I can't hear without them. This makes sense when the lights are on and an actual person is in front of me, because clearly I have bad hearing and do a lot of lip reading. But on the phone? And I can walk around in the dark without glasses and do perfectly well, but if the phone rings and I try to answer it without glasses on, forget it. I just can't hear.

7. When I am walking and not carrying something, I wiggle my fingers. It is like their own little exercise session.

8. My best friend in my ward is 87 years old, and is having issues with her memory. We have the same conversations over and over again. For me, it is practice for my inevitable future, because I can feel my memory slipping away already. If I forget something, Joyce says "Oh, not you too! I must be rubbing off on you!"

Lost children episode 3

The day we lost Patrick had started out to be a very good day. I don't remember what day of the week it was, I just know that I had to go to work and Dad was at work, too. But all the kids were home, so it was either in the summer or it was a PD day. In any case, for some reason, all the kids went to Kathy's house that day, something they all enjoyed doing very much. Patrick must have been about two years old, give or take six months.

I got to Kathy's after work, went inside--there were kids everywhere, both mine and Kathy's, and pretty much everyone greeted me and then would be running off somewhere to do something. The only person I didn't see was Patrick. So I said to Kathy, who was working in the kitchen, "Where's Patrick?" She said, "Oh, he's around. Maybe he's down the hall." I went and looked in all the bedrooms--no Patrick. I went back, and said, "He's not there." Kathy looked so puzzled. "But he was just here," she said. Their house had a sliding door between the kitchen and living room, and Patrick had been on the living room side, sliding the door open and closed and playing peek-a-boo with Kathy just before I got there. She came out of the kitchen, and the two of us searched the entire house, but no Patrick...

By now all the other kids were aware of what we were doing, and they began to join in the search. The back yard, the street, the neighbors' houses--no Patrick. Kathy lived in a cul-de-sac ish place, so it seemed like if he had gone outside, he should be pretty contained. The big worry was that there was access to a path that led to one of BC's many creeks, and some forested areas...some of the kids went to look there.

I most especially remember that Emily was so upset. The tears were streaming down her face, and she said "Why did this have to happen to Patrick? He is so young, he has his whole life before him? Why couldn't this happen to me instead?" (If I hadn't been so distraught, I would have laughed out loud, because if he was two, she was only seven--not so much older!! She had HER whole life before her, too!)

So there we all were, about ten of us plus neighbors, all searching for this vanished child. We gathered to pray, because we had exhausted our own ideas and needed help. I had the feeling to look in the living room, where we had already looked over and over again, just like we had looked everywhere in the house. I walked to the corner of the living room, where Kathy had a great big round chair. Behind it was a cardboard box. I had walked over and looked in that corner over and over again. But this time, prompted by the spirit, I looked in the box--and there was Patrick, curled up fast asleep. You remember he had been playing peek-a-boo with Kathy? He must have decided to turn the game into hide-and-seek, but he forgot to tell Kathy. And, hiding so quietly so as not to ruin the game, he fell asleep. And slept peacefully for an hour or so while we all frantically looked for him!

I snatched him up, and was hugging him tightly, while grateful tears ran down my cheeks. Pretty soon, all ten of us were gathered around, the girls all crying, the boys all cheering...and he woke up! He was so confused--everyone was so happy to see him, and he couldn't understand why.

Lost children episode 2

When Abbi was "lost" she knew right where she was! And so did David, when he got "lost." We were doing a major house remodel in 1985. It was a really busy day at our house, with workmen coming and going. I was tired, because Nancy had recently been born, and it was hard to keep the kids safely entertained while the house was a construction site. On this particular day, my parents were there, and I was hoping they would want to take a child or two home with them until the construction simmered down a little, but they weren't too keen on taking any small folk home with them--which, now that I am in their shoes, I can entirely understand.

David was two and a half years old. He was having a bath; someone turned their head for two seconds, and he disappeared right from the bathtub. Where could he have gone? He was naked! My mom, my dad, my daughters and I were all looking EVERYWHERE in the house and yard, but he was just gone!! I was worried, but not like my mom was worried! (She was a much better worrier than I have ever been, and I am pretty good!)

Kelli saved the day...she ran down the street about a half block south to a friend's home. Kelli remembered that earlier in the day, she had taken David over there to play, because her friend's little brother (also named David) had a new big car to play in. Our David had really, really liked that car...and Kelli thought, correctly, as it turned out, that David had gone over to sit in that car again. There he was, our little streaker, in their back yard, sitting in the other David's car. Kelli carried him home, where everyone fussed over him... and Grandma packed him into her car and took him home with her for a few days, while we got the house back into a more livable state.

Lost children episode 1

Abbi and I were talking about using life experiences as a starting point for fiction. She wrote on her blog about a time when she perhaps had a potential kidnapper right in front of her, and as she expressed it "stared down her worst fear, and even argued with it" or words to that effect. Then I thought about our daughter Kelli who WAS kidnapped as a young teenager, only we were led to believe that she had run away...and the horrific aftermath of that event, which was life-changing for all of us. And I thought about my other four children...had I ever lost them, even for awhile? Yes. Indeed. And it is always so frightening to lose a child; my heart goes out to those who lose them permanently, because even the temporary losses are chilling.

Actually, Abbi was the first of our children to "go missing." It was on Canada Day. Probably in about 1984. We watched the parade from the corner of our street and main street, a short walk away. After the parade, we were at home, and decided to go to the park and play. For some reason, Abbi wasn't quite ready to go. Bruce wasn't coming with us, but Kelli and I put David in the stroller and started, leaving Abbi to catch up with us. We were going to the park that was one block north and a half a block east of our house--just a short distance. The kids had walked there themselves dozens of times. We were walking slowly so she could catch up with us...she never did. We played at the park. She never came. We thought maybe she decided not to come, just to stay home with her dad. So we didn't worry, just kept playing. When David was ready to go, and Kelli probably hadn't had her fill yet, but crying babies usually win arguments like that, we went back home.

"Hey, Abbi, why didn't you come?" Bruce heard and said, "She did go. She left soon after you did. You mean, you didn't see her?" Now we were really worried! How could she have gotten lost? She knew the way to the park! Bruce thought she had left so soon after us that she should have been able to catch up with us while we were still on our way to the park. Yet we had looked behind us, and never seen her. Panic quickly set in, as we checked with neighbors, walked to the park different routes, drove our car around the neighborhood, all the looking you do...It was a big worry because what if she was kidnapped? With it being Canada Day, and the rodeo going on, there were so many more people and cars than usual...scary thoughts!

As is our custom, we prayed. We knelt and prayed, most fervently, that we would know where to look. We were on the point of calling the police, when a still, small voice whispered to me, "Look at the park where the pool is." I was surprised by the thought--that park was quite a long ways away, past the "downtown" part of the town. I didn't know if Abbi even knew the way to THAT park. We were definitely a swimming family, and Abbi was the most enthusiastic swimmer, but she had never walked there without a parent. Yet the thought had come in answer to prayer, I knew it. So I left the other kids with Bruce and drove over there.

And there she was. Sitting inside the wading pool area, waiting so patiently. "Where were you?" she asked. "I didn't see you." But, due to Canada Day, there were so many people at that park, she thought it prudent to sit and wait, because we said we would be at the park, so we must be there.

I thought that I had made it clear which park I meant. Apparently, I did not. I would never have expected her to walk to THAT park by herself. But it was her favorite park, so I guess that when I said park, her mind clicked onto her favorite park, and that was the one she walked to. I was just so glad to find her!! We went home and, as a family, said another prayer of thanks.

Success

The Phantom of the Opera silent movie night came off fabulously. Which was nice, because the dress rehearsal was pretty disorganized. They decided the best way to get us gamelaners on to the stage was during the prayer. That may sound disrespectful, but honestly--backstage you can't hear anything anyway; it all sounds like the people out front are speaking Martian. So as soon as the prayer began, Josie, the designated door-opener, let us all out and we snuck into position. The technicians turned the fog machines on, and as soon as "Amen" was said, the first two instruments began to play. People gasped in surprise, because of the changes that took place while their eyes were closed. Amazing! We played our eerie music while the pall-bearers carried the coffin in, while dracula waved a hand in the air and finally arose. We played until he was on the stairs leading to the organ pit, then waited until he began Bach's "Toccata and Fugue in D minor" and then we melted away into the darkness. No one knew what happened to us, except for all the people on Row L who had to put up with our whispered "Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me" while we crawled over them to our absolutely perfect, dead centre seats. Then we just enjoyed the 1920's sing-along slides and the movie. Mike Oman's organ accompaniment was so perfect for the movie that I sometimes forgot it was not a part of the soundtrack. And I was especially proud of Paul, who was playing the gongsa for the sound of the clappers of the phantom's alarm system. He had not been able to rehearse that with the movie, and his timing was terrific!

Bruce and David seemed to enjoy the show, too. And we gamelaners especially enjoyed their help to put the instruments away when it was all over. They are WAY heavy! And awkward. We got to use the secret spiral stairway that leads directly down to the Green Room to take some of the stuff back--that was a very smart idea! Good for Josie thinking of that.

Sorry that I have no pictures--but the evening will be televised at some point on one of BYU's channels. And they are making a documentary about the gamelan, too-- I don't know what will happen with that either.