A Slametan

   Ever since arriving in Java, I had wondered if I would hear about the ancient Javanese ritual called the "slametan" that Clifford Geertz devotes so much space to in his famous book, The Religion of Java.  I did not have to wait long, as one of the staff at the International Relations Office told me early on that she often participated in these rituals to mark stages in a person's life.  A slametan is an ancient Javanese ritual meal which families hold on a number of important occasions. Slametans may mark a birth or a death, a marriage or a coming of age. Many slametans are held to mark important dates in the Muslim calender, such as the birthday of the Prophet, or in this case, to honor family members such as this couple on the eve of their departure to Mecca for the Great Pilgrimage of the Hajj.

  The slametan is a ritual feast that is not so much about eating as about making an offering to the spirits (or Allah in the most observant Muslim homes).  Very little food is consumed, though much is brought in, traditionally by neighbors called on a moment's notice, and somehow ready with mounds of rice and other food.  There is an eclectic mixture of Hindu incense, Muslim chant, and underneath it all, providing its raison d'etre, the Javanese ethos.

  Our experience of the slametan was a bit more Islamic than most, since its occasion was the going on the hajj of a husband and wife.  Last Saturday evening Habib arrived at our house, dressed in traditional Javanese cap, long shirt and sarong. He drove us to the home of his niece and her husband. She had invited us to participate in their  slametan.

  We were greeted with the warm hospitality we have grown accustomed to and joined the family members present already. With sandals off and seated on carpets, the men gathered in one room, the women in another, we conversed and ate sweets. Given that family had just arrived that day, there was surprisingly little talking among the women seated on the floor, some with a child nestled in their laps.  The occasion seemed more solemn and momentous than festive.  Only I, the"bule" as we Westerners are called, was encouraged to try each of the several sweet treats arrayed on trays around the floor.  Then the most honored guest, Kiyai Haji Askuri, an esteemed community prayer leader who had made the hajj, offered the ritual prayers and formal remarks about the importance of the pilgrimage. The husband also spoke. All responded with Amins, and joined the rhythmic chant that plays so much a part in Sufi worship: La ilaha illa'Llah - "There is no god but God," in pulsating repetitions around the rooms. 

The slametan concluded with a sumptuous meal of Javanese and Indonesian dishes. Once again, thanks to Habib, we were able to experience a very important event in the lives of the people of Java.