March is a special month in Bali. Depending on the cycles of the moon, every year a specific day in March marks the special Nyepi celebration; a cultural phenomenon that leaves a mark in your soul no matter who you are or where you are from.
Every Saka Lunar Year, the Balinese people celebrate Nyepi, a day of complete silence, peace and contemplation. In stark contrast, the night before is the Ogoh Ogoh parade, a festivity full of loud sounds, crowds and spirited dancing. A few days prior to that is the Melasti celebration, during which temple gods are taken to the ocean for purification. Bali is known for daily rituals and celebrations of many kinds, but the week of Melasti and Nyepi are quite special.
If you are in Bali for Nyepi day, even if you are not Balinese, you must stay inside your house and make very little noise. No cars roam the streets and the airport is closed for 24 hours. At night, you cannot turn on your lights except for one or two candles. There is to be no work, no revelry and no cooking. Of course expats can cook inside our house just not a barbecue or with all the lights on.
Last week on March 9th, we experienced our second Nyepi in Bali and it was a little nicer than the first time. Last year our son was worried that he wouldn’t be able to talk for an entire day but felt better once our Balinese friend told him that children can talk but have to try really hard to not scream or create any scandal. This time we knew what to expect and were actually pretty excited.
You know what the best part of Nyepi is? The way the sky looks once the sun goes down.
This morning I told my kids that I was going to write an article about Nyepi and asked them to tell me what their favorite thing about Nyepi was. My son said the Ogoh Ogohs and the eclipse. Indonesia was the one lucky spot on earth to experience the full solar eclipse on the same day as Nyepi. Unfortunately the full effect was only seen in other islands of Indonesia, not in Bali. The color of the sky did change a little bit and my son got up early in the morning to see that, even if he had gone to bed late from seeing the Ogoh Ogoh parade the night before!
My daughter said she liked the giant Ogoh Ogoh that was displayed in the beach neighborhood close to our house. In all truth we all liked it because it was huge, red, demonishly funny and had really big titties!
The Ogoh Ogohs are sculptures made of bamboo and Styrofoam that represent the demons and bad energy that has accumulated throughout the year. The night before silent day, all the Ogoh Ogohs; small ones made by groups of kids and really big ones made by the neighborhood groups area paraded on the streets for everyone’s enjoyment. The largest Ogoh Ogoh parade is in the city center in the Island’s capital Denpasar, but really the entire island participates in the Ogoh Ogoh parades. The tradition is that after the festivities the Ogoh Ogohs are burned to represent getting rid of all bad energy, but lately they are being made with non-organic materials and the Ogoh Ogoh stay displayed on street corners.
We don’t know if we will be in Bali for the next Nyepi, but what we do know is that we will never forget the feeling of waking up on Nyepi morning and not hearing traffic, or music, or people talking in their patios.
The silence is trickled with bird songs and frogs. The night sky resembles the sky you would see in the desert or high up in the mountains. A usually scarcely starred sky becomes the milky way’s playground to the naked eye.
It surprises me when I hear of people leaving Bali due to Nyepi, like one day in silence and peace could be so difficult or not worth doing. I wonder if my kids will remember how special Nyepi is and will come back to Bali when they are older and have kids of their own.
Do you have similar cultural festivals where you live? Is there a festival of silence?
Orana is a Writer, Artist, Mother and Wife; Peruvian Expat currently living in Kyiv, Ukraine with her husband and children. She works as a writer, designer and social media manager for diverse organizations around the world.
Being a working mom is not an easy feat. You are constantly on your toes both on the work front and on the home front where you need to give both your 101%. But while it may have it’s fair share of challenges, I’m glad to be a working mom in Singapore where the marketplace recognises the value of what women can bring to the table.
In the past, it’s not uncommon to hear how employers will show gender preference towards men who are perceived to be go-getters, sharp and gets things done. And what’s unsaid is that men will not disappear for a good four months when a baby comes along. And their hesitation to employ women doesn’t end there as the mother is usually the one to drop everything at work if anything happens at home, especially when there are young kids at home. And even with female employees, they often get by-passed for promotion and get lower salaries than their male counterparts.
As a small nation whose only resources lie in our human capital, we simply cannot afford to allow this bias to prevail in our society where women take a back seat when they start to have a family. The journey to overcome this gender discrimination at the work place has taken a long time. With efforts from both the state as well as employers the results are encouraging with 76% of women in their prime working ages of 25 to 54 years are in employment in Singapore.
But what really worked was the mindset that women can have their place in the workforce and are equally capable and dedicated to their work as well as their families.
As we celebrate International Women’s Day on March 8th, I hope that all women will have equality in employment opportunities as we continue to strive for gender equality in the workplace to transform the society to be fair and inclusive.
Susan is from Singapore. As a full-time working mom, she's still learning to perfect the art of juggling between career and family while leading a happy and fulfilled life. She can't get by a day without coffee and swears she's no bimbo even though she likes pink and Hello Kitty. She's loves to travel and blogs passionately about parenting, marriage and relationship and leading a healthy life at A Juggling Mom.
Here in Japan, as the cold winter wind continues to blow, the school year is coming to a close. Even the smallest children are busy preparing for graduation from their various places of learning. It is a time of reflection for the mothers of Japan: look how much they have grown! It is also a time of of worry, of anxiety about what awaits our children in their next portion of their journey.
It hasn’t been a particularly good year for the rights of Japanese women. The Supreme Court recently ruled against a group of women petitioning for the right to continue use of their maiden names after marriage. Around the same time, the same court struck down a law that enforces a waiting period for women desiring to remarry after divorce, citing a lack of similar restrictions for men. Then in the same ruling, it suggested 100 days as a reasonable waiting period. (Huh?) A male parliamentarian applied for paternity leave, to the cheers of many younger women, only to be embroiled in an infidelity scandal and forced to resign shortly thereafter. “Maternity Harrassment” was listed as a trending term on TV programs celebrating the end of 2015.
Saying that I am full of anxiety and worry for what this country holds in store for my daughter would be an understatement.
But even in this midst of this still-winter, from the warm enclave of the kotatsu (a low table equipped with a heating unit and enveloped by a duvet,) I can see that outside plum blossoms are starting to bloom. Cherry blossoms will follow. There is warmth and life and hope awaiting us, if only we persevere a little longer.
Perhaps it is just coincidence that plum blossoms are a symbol of Girls Day as well.
Families across Japan will spend March 3 celebrating their love for their daughters. Gorgeous collections of delicate dolls representing the members of the ancient imperial court are being displayed as I write, the superstition being that should any disaster like fire or earthquake occur at your house, these dolls will take your daughter’s place. She will be spared.
Mothers and grandmothers will toil over chirashi zushi, a kind of sushi where the fish are “scattered” on top as opposed to rolled within. There will be crunchy, lightly sweetened snacks, traditional pounded rice cakes, and (especially for families with young daughters) perhaps even cake and pizza.
That this is an old tradition gives me hope. Even in the darkest days of a powerful patriarchy, parents have loved their daughters. Families have gathered, special dishes have been prepared, efforts have been made all for the love of girls.
In the midst of other more negative messages, this is a powerful one. I hope it gets through.
What kind of messages do you feel the traditions of your country send to young women? How would you like to change them, if you could?
If you ask Melanie Oda where she is from, she will answer "Georgia." (Unless you ask her in Japanese. Then she will say "America.") It sounds nice, and it's a one-word answer, which is what most people expect. The truth is more complex. She moved around several small towns in the south growing up. Such is life when your father is a Southern Baptist preacher of the hellfire and brimstone variety.
She came to Japan in 2000 as an assistant language teacher, and has never managed to leave. She currently resides in Yokohama, on the outskirts of Tokyo (but please don't tell anyone she described it that way! Citizens of Yokohama have a lot of pride). No one is more surprised to find her here, married to a Japanese man and with two bilingual children (aged four and seven), than herself. And possibly her mother.
You can read more about her misadventures in Asia on her blog, HamakkoMommy.
This Thursday, March 3rd, an event in Japan known as Girls Day, a day of reflection and prayers for the health and happiness of daughters, comes at a time when women’s voices are not being heard.
In the past few months, Japanese women have been at the crossroads of maintaining with what’s been traditionally acceptable or fighting to keep their surnames even after marriage.
A number of Japanese women have taken an age-old law to court, claiming that being unable to keep their surnames is a violation of their rights. One of the women, Kaori Oguni, argues, “By losing your surname-you’re being made light of, you’re not respected…It’s as if part of yourself vanishes”.
What has been at play is that an age-old law stemming from the patriarchal system that has dominated the family dynamic since 1896. Dating back from the 1600’s during the Edo period, whereby the population was ruled by the Tokogawa Shogunate (feudal system), the only people who had last names were those of the Samurai class, until the end of the Shogunate, known as the Meiji Restoration in the late 1800’s. This was created in order to create their own identities, separate from the Samurai class.
The current law states that married couples share the same last name, and while the law doesn’t specify whose name should be kept, most women keep their husband’s last name to prevent pressure and criticism from the public, or worse their families. It is now being challenged by some professional women who believe it unconstitutional to ban women from having a choice of whether to change their surnames once they marry.
Part of the problem is the continued use of a family register system that has been used for decades which lists every member of the family, like a census. Unlike the census, a daughter’s name is crossed off the family register once she marries and is added onto her husband’s family register. What is disturbing is that a woman’s surname is easily assigned from one register to another, without thought of ramifications for her or her future.
The family register is like a census. The “x” denotes when a woman is divorced, and more than 1 “x” means more than 1 divorce. The family register is how families keep track of their families, but if a daughter gets married, he name is crossed off and added onto her husband’s family register.
According to a source from Japan, this law has affected professional women more so than non-working women. The view has been maintained that the government is providing women a safety net by holding on to the idea of keeping their husband’s last name as future reference with regards to parental rights or inheritance issues. By sharing one surname, it is seen as a way of binding one’s family and women become part of that unit, letting go of their own identity.
In addition to married women, divorced women are just as affected by this law. Once a woman is divorced, her name on the family register is indicated by an “x” and any future divorces would indicate additional “x”s. Once a woman is divorced, she has the option of creating her own register or going back to her parents’ register, but along with having an “x” on the register, it would be noted that it was a result of a divorce. While it may be seen as an efficient way of keeping track of the family system, it seems more like devaluing the woman’s importance in a family.
A few people interviewed regarding this issue believe that it is not just about changing one’s last name, it’s more about having the choice to change it for themselves.
Mrs. U, married for fifteen years never had a problem with taking on her husband’s last name. Her husband had an unusual last name and was proud of it, but over the years, she felt that having to explain her surname is inconvenient. It didn’t occur to her how much paperwork was involved in changing her name on all bank accounts, etc. She also didn’t think at the time how it would affect her sense of self, having grown up with the assumption that one day she would change her name. She wishes now she had given it more thought, though she feels she still would have taken her husband’s name. Her children also have pride in their unusual surname and she wants her daughter to have the option of keeping it, if that’s what she chooses.
Mr. A said that when he was married more than 40 years ago, it never once crossed his mind that his wife would not want to take his surname. When his daughter married 15 years ago, he didn’t feel sad when she changed her name. He always knew that would happen so he was okay with it. But now, he says that Japan is changing and women have a stronger sense of identity. He doesn’t feel that a family having different last names weakens the family unit, though he says many of his peers think this. He hopes his grandchildren will be free to choose whether to share a surname with their spouse or not.
Ms. N is divorced. She hates the practice of x-ing through names on the family register and feels it is discriminatory and an invasion of privacy. She thinks this particular case failed in the Supreme Court because the plaintiff approached it from the angle of ‘I’ve built a reputation and professional name for myself using my maiden name. Changing that disadvantages me.’ Ms. N feels this approach was selfish, bound to fail, and that anti-woman powers that be knew this and used this case to strike down the cause. She thinks if it was approached from an equal rights standpoint, the result may perhaps have been different.
For Asuka Someya-Takahashi, who heads a non-profit organization called PILCON, this law has affected her personally and professionally. “I established a non-profit organization before I was married. Upon my marriage and resulting name change, I needed to file new paperwork with the metropolitan city office and legal affairs bureau. In spite of this, work communication often comes addressed to my maiden name. I am constantly unsure if I should be using my maiden name or married name on invoices, applications for subsidies, etc.”, says Someya-Takahashi.
She adds, “I think if the law allowed couples to choose separate surnames, this kind of complexity could be avoided. The love and ties of family do not change simply because a family uses more than one surname. It’s very unfortunate that in today’s world there are still people who speak out against allowing married couples the choice of having separate surnames”.
With regard to her NPO, Someya-Takahashi explains the importance of PILCON. “PILCON is an NPO which expands upon the sexual health education in Japan. We strive to include information on reproduction health and rights (STI’s (sexually transmitted infections, fertility, equal relationships, etc.) that tend to be left out of the public discussion, in an effort to enable youth to make informed decisions”.
It is amazing to see how a patriarchal family system dating back so many decades still has the power to affect women of today, especially professional women who can affect change in their society.
I never thought that I would have an issue giving up my surname, until I got married. I was always known by my maiden name to my friends and family for years and it was my identity. I didn’t realize how strange it would feel to be called by a different name until I had to change my name in legal documents.
While I did have the option of keeping my maiden name if I wanted to, I decided to take my husband’s name as my own. I still consider myself an individual, but also as someone who is part of a family that believes in choosing their own identity. I believe that everyone should have the choice to be identified as the person they wish to be, not one dictated by laws. Here’s hoping that Japanese women continue to question and challenge the laws that restrict them, and create a future that involves freedom to choose their own identity.
This is an original post written for World Moms Blog by Tes Silverman of Pinay Perspective . World Mom Melanie Oda also contributed research to this post.
If you are married, did you keep your maiden name or take your husband’s?
Tes Silverman was born in Manila, Philippines and has been a New Yorker for over 30 years. Moving from the Philippines to New York opened the doors to the possibility of a life of writing and travel. Before starting a family, she traveled to Iceland, Portugal, Belgium, and France, all the while writing about the people she met through her adventures. After starting a family, she became a freelance writer for publications such as Newsday’s Parents & Children and various local newspapers. Fifteen years ago, she created her blog, The Pinay Perspective. PinayPerspective.com is designed to provide women of all ages and nationalities the space to discuss the similarities and differences on how we view life and the world around us. As a result of her blog, she has written for BlogHer.com and has been invited to attend and blog about the Social Good Summit and Mom+Social Good. In addition, she is a World Voice Editor for World Moms Network and was Managing Editor for a local grass roots activism group, ATLI(Action Together Long Island). Currently residing in Virginia Beach, VA with her husband, fourteen year-old Morkie and a three year old Lab Mix, she continues to write stories of women and children who make an impact in their communities and provide them a place to vocalize their passions.
Wow. It’s been a lifetime since I last contributed to the blog. My last post was after I had just given birth. After that, things totally took a turn for the busy! And now, my second child is a year old, my eldest just recently lost two of his teeth. Already I’m feeling like I am on the short end of the stick when it comes to time! Just the other day my husband and I realized that, in four years, our eldest would be ten years old. Ten years old. I can’t even begin to fathom what I’d do.
When I watch my kids, I notice how they live in each moment. Have you ever stopped to watch your kids do the same?
It’s different for each child. I have a one year-old baby girl and a fidgety, curious six year-old son. Each day seems to stretch on forever for my six year-old, like when he anxiously awaits a new toy or the arrival of his cousins visiting from out of town. (This past week, his long wait has been his dental appointment, which we’ll go to later today.) After last Christmas Day, he asked how long it would be til the next one and sighed how it would be “forever” until we got there.
For my daughter, it’s like each minute is precious, and five minutes is an eternity away from me. (She’s a high need child, you see.) She cries when I step into the bathroom for a shower. (I’ve mastered those 2 to 5 minute ones, have you?) She complains when I leave for a meeting for an hour. My mother once said, “Imagine if your source of food and drink left you for a couple hours. How would you feel?”, and I now understand my daughter, haha! Poor thing.
We recently had a photo shoot at home with a photographer who specializes in unstyled, “day in the life” pictorials. It was a refreshing shoot, because there wasn’t any time set aside for makeup or hair, or vignette styling or wardrobe changes. It was just us, whiling the time away doing our everyday duties of play, work, rest and play again.
“Why would you pay someone to take photos of you when you’re just in your house clothes?” someone asked me on social media. In my head I replied, “Well, why not?” Because of time constraints and a clingy baby and a rambunctious preschooler and a busy-with-a-new-biz husband and a home in need of care…. I have literally no time sometimes to grab a camera. I should, but I had a friend who took on the task instead. And I’m glad she did, because I saw in those 200 or so photos what I realize I often miss or gloss over any ordinary day. It’s not the activities — I notice those, of course. It’s what threads our days, the feelings of delight, frustration, love, and passion that I sometimes don’t notice. Perhaps I needed someone else to look from the outside into our ordinary everyday, so that I could see just how much I get wrapped in time.
I watched this video recently, which perfectly describes why it feels like time speeds by the older we get. I appreciate the perspective here, and I can vaguely remember how time seemed to stretch on forever when I was a child! But very vaguely, really, like a distant memory. I only hope that as time goes by, I will like my children, live in the present.
I hope to not take each life-stage for granted, and not waste time navel-gazing, grumbling or losing myself to the squabbles of the mundane.
“Life is short… Life is long… but not in that order.”
I couldn’t have said it better.
How do you feel about time going forward, moms? How do you view time alongside your children’s point of view?
This is an original post by Martine De Luna for World Moms Blog.
Martine is a work-at-home Mom and passionate blogger. A former expat kid, she has a soft spot for international efforts, like WMB. While she's not blogging, she's busy making words awesome for her clients, who avail of her marketing writing, website writing, and blog consulting services. Martine now resides in busy, sunny Manila, the Philippines, with her husband, Ton, and toddler son, Vito Sebastian. You can find her blogging at DaintyMom.com.
It’s one of those truths that have become a cliché: having children challenges and changes you. I’ve changed in many ways thanks to the boys pushing emotional buttons and exhausting me to the point of raw survival. I’ve faced many a demon I didn’t know was lurking in my psyche. Those I expected, although the extent of it all still surprises me. This new place is a bit of a shock.
My latest evolutionary leap is to become brave around physical challenges.
I was the girl who would read rather than just about anything. I played with cut-dolls and made up plays and dances, I built indoor huts and had umpteen projects on the go. I did swim, climb a little, build dams and ride horses but I never really pushed my limits, not really. I kept myself safe. I was an expert at that. And then I had three sons who like to do stuff.
Suddenly, I’m in largish surf being a support Mum at a beach camp. I’m swinging on some revolting swing above a hill slope in which you have to be strapped with a harness and you look down directly at the ground from swear-inducing heights. I luge. I hike through bush where there are no other people and try not to think about abductions and falls while we’re out of cell-phone range. I’m jumping off river banks and wharfs from three or four metres up.
And I’m still scared witless. At least in the beginning.
Then I do the thing and repeating it is O.K. Sometimes multiple repeats of challenges are asked of me. Sometimes I allow myself to be convinced. Those boys have a way of parroting me back to me.
“You can do it.”
“We’ll be so proud of you.”
“It’s really fun!”
“Don’t psyche yourself out.”
“Do it when you’re ready.”
“You don’t have to, but I think you’ll regret it if you don’t.”
“Do you need a hug?”
“Let’s do it together.”
“Just go for it.”
And the really annoying one that I say all the time : “You feel brave after doing the scary thing.”
And so I have luged when I would rather have sat and had coffee. I’ve been in the surf when wine in a pretty dress was more my style. I swung on that horrendous swing. I jump off the river bank and the wharf. And you know what, they’re right. I feels good to be brave. And it really does happen after you do the scary thing. I expect they’ll continue to encourage me to do the stuff I don’t want to do and that’s pretty awesome because I’m an old mum and my kids want to do stuff with me. Then they’ll leave me and I suspect those will be some of my favourite memories around parenting.
Have you done anything physically brave thanks to the encouragement of your children? Tell us about it.
This is an original post to World Moms Blog by Karyn Wills of New Zealand. Photo credit: www.loveoftheroad.wordpress.com (The Skyswing over Rotorua, New Zealand)
This Thursday, March 3rd, an event in Japan known as Girls Day, a day of reflection and prayers for the health and happiness of daughters, comes at a time when women’s voices are not being heard. 
