Bali Says Goodbye With Style to the Last Princess

It was a painstakingly prepared farewell to a much-loved and revered 94-year-old princess. The end of an era. A spectacular ceremony whose grandeur, pomp and pageantry will never be seen again.

Such were three of the descriptions of yesterday's dramatic cremation in Bali's cultural capital, Ubud, of the island's last active royal, Tjokorda Istri Muter. The remains of her relatives were cremated at the same time.

Tens of thousands of people - standing 25-deep in places - lined the half-mile route of the royal procession from the palace where Tjokorda Muter's family had ruled for generations until first the Dutch colonialists and then, after independence, the Indonesian government stripped them of their formal powers.

Tjokorda Muter's corpse was strapped two-thirds of the way up an ornately decorated 22-metre, nine-roofed, pagoda-style funeral tower complete with two huge wings attached to either side.

Two priests were tied - very much alive - on to the tower to accompany the body.

Preceding it was a five-metre dragon, a grand, six-metre high wooden black and gold bull into which the body would be transferred for the cremation, several gamelan orchestras and two young family members carrying holy water.

Such was the weight of everything, almost 5,000 pallbearers were needed, men who wore headbands decorated with dried palm leaves to give them 'extra strength'. Electricity and phone cables and overhanging branches had been cleared from along the roads so the cortege could pass unhindered.

Tjokorda Muter's ceremony was so grand because she was dearly loved and one of twins of different sexes. While such twins born to commoners are considered almost a curse on the predominantly Hindu island and, until recently, were always separated, they are considered one of the greatest blessings if born into a royal family. In honour of this, she was the first female member of the family to be 'given' a dragon as part of her cremation.

'She was born special and lived a very special life,' said her son, Tjokorda Gde Agung Suyasa. 'She loved to help people. She did whatever she could, regardless of how low their caste was or how insignificant their clan.'

Evidence of this could be found everywhere. Wayan Juri, a village chief from the eastern tip of Bali, was typical. He had spent much of the previous two weeks crouched in a corner of the palace where the body lay in state.

His job was to keep the sandalwood and spice incense burning constantly. 'If she can keep smelling such sweet scents as these her body and spirit will remain calm,' he said. 'Many years ago the princess arranged for her son to employ my son. This is how I am repaying my debt.'

After the spectacle of the procession the cremation was curiously low-key. To the accompaniment of sporadic gamelan music, Tjokorda Muter's body was placed in the bull, the dragon placed next to her, and clothes, coins, food, flowers and decorations placed on top of the body. Priests said a blessing as sods of earth were put around the bull's feet and the edifice was set on fire.

'This might seem an anti-climax, an unusual way to end things,' said Tjokorda Suyasa afterwards. 'But the family had said their final prayers last night. There was no need for anything else. The cremation itself and the journey of her spirit are what's important.'