The Exorcist next door

This is a true story

Bali is a very spiritual place. It is 80% Hindu. The rest is mostly Islam, Christianity, and Buddhism. The Balinese believe in their Gods and there are lots of them. There are many massive temples, local shrines, and offerings on every street corner, outside every house.

The following is a word for word account of what my partner Kate experienced on Friday morning. She wrote it all down as soon as she got home so the story has clarity. It was another hot sunny day, and we were sitting under the fan, in our house in Sanur, Bali.

11am.

Sitting on the couch sewing. Listening to some kid having a tantrum in the hotel across the road. The dogs are howling, and this kid is making whining screaming noises. It goes on for too long. I think maybe a child is being mistreated. I need to check this out, so I go outside, walk down our street and the whining howling is getting louder. It’s coming from next door where the friendly dog gang lives. The dogs greet me in the usual way jumping and barking.

There’s a woman and a kid on a couch. Mama doing beans at the kitchen table. I’m standing outside in the courtyard, the screaming and whining is coming from inside.

I call out. I ask, “what’s happening? What’s going on? Are you alright?”

The owner comes out. Our neighbour. The dogs Dad. He’s quite dismissive. He says it’s ok, pats me on the shoulder condescendingly which makes me suspicious. He flaps his hand, waving me away, saying it’s ok. “She’s sick. She’s sick.”

He goes back inside. I’m not happy. I think he’s mistreating her or she’s feeling pressure to do this for his sake. To perform.

I stay. A young man comes out. He seems exhausted. He looks me in the eyes and says, “It’s my wife. She has a bad spirit. It’s taken over her.”

He looks like he’s going to cry but I’m still suspicious. Is this an act for my benefit? Are they preying on her? It sounds torturous. There’s crying and consistent moaning, very high pitched. I can also hear our neighbour. Shouting.

The young man tells me it started at 11pm last night. “She was dancing, crazy dancing and then crying, moaning. She has a bad spirit in her.”

He has two kids, a little boy and girl. He says his neighbours are angry at them because of the noise. “They don’t understand. It’s happened before. She got very thin and quiet. She’s been in hospital, but it didn’t help.” There was someone local, a Balinese that helped. Maybe not a doctor.

I didn’t understand. I asked, when she was young, was she ill? He said it started before they were married, and it always starts with crazy dancing, and he can see in her face she is gone and the bad spirit – which he named but I didn’t retain – gets into her.

This man’s name is Alit. I’m believing him now. He says he tries to be positive and pray for his wife, Neta. “If you think negative thoughts, the spirit can enter you.”

“Is anyone touching her?” I ask.

He says no.

Our neighbour comes out again. I know him through his dogs. He has an abrupt manner. A little moustache and fringe. We don’t chat much because the dogs are usually barking at my feet.

Our neighbour – I’m calling him the exorcist now – wants Alit to come back into the room. I ask, “is Neta ok?”

He hurriedly says, “come, come.”

I go into the room. Neta is kneeling, her long black hair on the floor. A man – Alit’s Dad – is sitting there. It’s a small dark room with an altar and some wooden chairs. I back away because I’m freaked out.

I ask the woman – who I will call Aunty – to go into the room to be with Neta. It’s all men in there.

I can’t leave because she’s still moaning and screaming. I stand in the courtyard. Alit comes out and talks to me. He’s exhausted. His little boy with big eyes is deeply engrossed in his phone, on a game. He’s about 6 years old. Alit is from north of Kuta. He and his family came in a car this morning.

The exorcist comes out. He says, “come, come.” We go back into the room, and I realize the moaning has stopped. Neta is sitting on a chair. Aunty is stroking her head. Neta is breathing heavily, and her face is wet. She is very shaky and sweating.

I sit down and put my hand on her and ask, “are you ok?” She nods. I say I was worried. “Is it ok if I hug you?”

She nods her head and says, “I’m sorry.”

I’m shaking my head and saying, “no, no, it’s not your fault.”

We are all sitting around her in the small room. The exorcist, Alit, Aunty, me and Alit’s Dad. I’m holding Neta’s hand. There are two pictures of God on the wall. With a yellow light. Almost kitsch looking. God’s arms are spread, he has a white face. There’s another bigger picture of God on the high wooden bench. Like an altar. I hadn’t really noticed them before.

The exorcist says, “It’s gone. Gone. She’s ok now.”

I ask Neta, “are you ok? Are you thirsty? Hungry? Do you need water? Coffee? Tea? Food?” I don’t think she’s had any water.

The exorcist jumps up, grabs a plastic cup of water. The throw away ones with the stick-on lid. I’m thinking she needs more than that. The exorcist sits down looking relaxed and pleased with himself. I’m still worried, suspicious of him. My hand is on Neta’s shoulder. She has a sweet face. She’s still shaking.

I ask the exorcist what happened?

He says she was sick and it’s an exorcism. “I, we drew it out. The bad spirit.”

I ask, “where is it now?”

“In that bottle behind you.”

I turn around. There’s a beer bottle which I saw him with earlier and it freaked me out seeing alcohol in this situation with everything else going on. The bottle didn’t have a lid on it. Or maybe it did – I can’t remember.

The exorcist said we have been praying. I asked who to? Because the picture of God hadn’t really meant anything to me.

He says, “Christian.” He gestures to the pictures of God.

I said I didn’t understand and asked, “do you pray to Buddha?”

He was dismissive and just pointed to the God picture.

“Oh, God,” I said. It was the Christian God.

The exorcist asked, “do you not believe?”

“No.” He looked genuinely surprised and repeated the question.

“When I was little,” and used my hand to show the height of an eight-year-old.

He continued. “What about when bad things happen? Do you pray?”

I thought about it and answered, “It’s complicated.” I thought I should leave Neta with her Aunty and family. I was about to go.

The exorcist said sometimes people come to him. Other families because he can help them. I feel like he has a big ego. I wanted to leave the situation. I was feeling a little shaky.

I explained why I came, because of the noise. He said there is sometimes noise like this coming from his house because people come to him for help.

I tell Neta, “I’m going home now. I live next door. Are you ok?”

She and her Aunty nod and I leave the room. Mama is still in the kitchen doing beans. The dogs wake up from their snooze and escort me home with their usual jumping and barking.

Denis here. So, Kate got to know our neighbours a little bit better. Disturbing but interesting experience. If they knew, I don’t think our neighbours would mind me telling this story. No judgement. No opinion, Just another Friday morning in Bali. This is our street.