(Medicine of Revision)Rosalinda
Cavalcade

My father's Inti family, took me and my husband to walk around the village with the accompaniment of my local traditional music. The sound of drums and talempongs and violins and flutes is so beautiful and unique to sound, sometimes I smile myself hearing it.

Especially when the song sounds (regional music), their singing voice is made ugly, or is it like the Ronggeang singing technique (Traditional Singing of Sumbar)? Not to mention, his attendants who were cheering at all times were unclear.

Exactly like this. “Yo, laaaaa, eeeee... laaaa e maaaaak.” sometimes like this. “Ondeh, Maaaaaaak oiiiiiiiii.” sometimes also like this. “O laaaahh, ooooooooo With a long sound.

Huh!!! Anyway, I myself heard him smile, especially if I practice it, I could have pissed in my pants because I laughed.

So long and so many of these pageants, from the old to the children. They were singing, and sometimes the children were cheering with the band.

The music dress is also bright red. Yes, their clothes are also traditional clothes, with the head of a man wearing a head covering, in a tie above his head in a triangular shape, in bright red, with some yellow carvings to emasan.

While women also wear red clothes with colored accessories to the emasan and on their heads like horns. Yes, in my place called Bundo Kanduang clothes.

A golden umbrella, over my head and my husband.

He, the stranger who was my husband, held my hand tightly, with my slow and careful steps, so that I would not fall.

These high shoes really tormented me. My calf felt like it wanted to explode and my leg wanted to be broken. “Mak Uwo, is it still a long time?” I whispered to my Father's Sister, who was standing beside me, holding an umbrella for me.

“A little more, Ros. Kan muterin kampung.” replied Mak Uwo.

I was like an impromptu artist for a moment. Everyone stood in front of each other's doors and some connected the ranks behind to become pageant accompanists. Peering along the way around the village.

“One time ago people in my village!”

After a while of walking around, we arrived at the Al-Mukmin mosque. There are already waiting with the big Sia (A very large tray, usually used in certain events, to serve a lot of food, more than 20 dishes arranged in the tray)

There were 7 Great Sia covered with colorful cloths, I began to enter the mosque with my husband. One big item was opened, there were spices such as flowers, oranges, bowls, young coconuts.

Bowl in water, slices of lime, then flowers. Then, all stirred up and slightly crushed.

My Induak Bako took turns to pluck water on my face and washed 10 fingers of my hand, then 10 toes of mine. They did the same thing to my husband.

After that, we were told to drink the coconut fruit one by one.

Next to the second Great Sia, the contents there is Carano (Traditional containers for important events). They took the betel in the carano, then we had to chew it.

And then, some other weird rituals that I don't need to explain. I'm tired!!

After doing all the rituals, my husband and I were greeted again with lime polish on my forehead, fingernails and toenails, by Auntie. She also did the same thing to my husband when we stepped out of the mosque.

After arriving at the courtyard of the mosque. I have been treated back with a sea of humans lined up to pave the way for us. Started to accompany us back home with long processions and traditional music.

I breathed a sigh of relief, after my tent was seen. My legs are really sore.

When we arrived, we immediately sat on our big red chair to the emasan. Anyway, all red to emasan and flashy!

Cekrek, Cekrek, again and again. Some people take photos. Not just the road, but now I have to come back with a fake smile facing the camera.

The sound of the Adzan reverberated, all the music was stopped, and the photos finally stopped. Precisely, because my husband chose to go into the room for a while, to pray. So they feel incomplete taking pictures if there is no groom.

“Aalhamdulillah's. Relieved me.” murmured I exhaled a long breath.

My feet really hurt a lot, because I walked around the village wearing a heavy tacky outfit, with her skirt all over the mat, which was held by some people, high shoes, high shoes, and the head is so heavy, my head hurts so much.

My husband is good, his clothes can be opened and worn quickly. It is also thinly choked, can be relaxed and prayerful. While me? Pissing is hard, ask people to help hold the skirt and open the toilet door. So bad anyway!!!

Maybe now it is 5 pm, visitors are already a little quiet. The music was revived, with songs performed by the artist on the stage.

Before long, my husband brought 1 full rice plate and spoon, and 2 pieces of mineral water in a glass package.

He sits beside me. “Let's eat first, Dek.” said, then stir the rice and sambal.

“Open his mouth, let Uda bribe,” he said, thrusting a spoon containing rice and side dishes into my mouth.

“Let me bribe myself aja.” I replied.

“Susah Dek, the suntiang on your head is quite heavy, this jewelry is also complicated if you eat alone. Uda bribe only yes.” he explained a little forcing.

Finally I opened my mouth and received the food he was feeding.

Ahahhhh!!! It's been 3 days, I've been holding back emotions. My free life is gone. I chewed the rice furiously and gouged in my heart.

“Indeed, I am a child, if you eat should be in a bribe?” dongkolku in heart.

After He fed me, He also fed himself rice. To be precise, eat 1 plate and one spoon together. Actually, I'm very lazy one spoon with someone else, let alone a man I don't know yet.

What can I do, now this man is my husband, right? So, do not be a spoon, in the future there will be many things that will share with him.

“Huuuuufth!!”I took a long breath.

“Why Deck? Is the food spicy?” ask this foreign man who has the status of husband to me.

I didn't expect, He would hear me sigh clearly. “Or... Since then, he's been watching me?”