Bali II

(A few have remarked on the small size of the photos.  Double-clicking on any of the pictures will expand it to full screen size.)

Random thoughts/experiences from our second week in Bali….

We are going to miss Nyepi, the Balinese new year celebration, which occurs this year in late March.  On the day of Nyepi, the entire island falls silent.  The airport, along with all businesses are closed.  People are supposed to stay in their houses and not let any light get outside.  All activity stops.  According to one source, “The whole day is simply filled with the barking of a few dogs, the shrill of insect and is a simple long quiet day in the calendar of this otherwise hectic island.”  In preparation for Nyepi, the youth of the villages build large paper mache monsters, called ogah-ogah, which are then paraded through the village before being burned the night before Nyepi.  This symbolizes the destruction of the bad spirits which might be in the village.  This year, however, the government has decreed “No ogah-ogah’s”.  This is election season in Bali and the government is concerned that the ogah-ogah might somehow be used as a partisan political tool.  Shortly after Ralph took the above picture of an ogah-ogah under construction, it was destroyed.

Saturday was Janet’s 65th birthday.  She and Frank came to dinner at the villa.  Michael had arranged with Wayan, one of our wonderful drivers, to have the village children come dance for us.  I was expecting your typical elementary school talent show.  Boy, was I wrong!Three truckloads of kids and instruments showed up.  The original plan was for them to perform on the lawn but they had to move inside because of rain.   There was a 15-piece gamelan, about 15 girls in full costume and makeup, the cutest 6 year old kid you ever saw in a monkey costume (and he did a great job of imitating a monkey when his time came to perform), and about 10 other boys who danced as well.  Rose petals were strewn about the outside of one of our porticos and we guests sat on the veranda of the other portico, taking in the spectacle.  It  went on for an hour and we were all just mesmerized.  In the last act, there was a frenetic dance having to do with the slaying of  a witch, an evil spirit and one of the boys went into a trance.  It looked to me like a sort of mild epileptic seizure.  Everyone was concerned.  He was sprinkled with holy water and taken to lie down.  Eventually he came out of it and was sort of woozy as everyone piled into the trucks and disappeared.  

One of the creatures that danced was a barong, a mythical being that looks kind of like a very hairy lion.  Here is the costume being unloaded.  After the performance, as everyone was packing up, I took the occasion to try on the front half of the barong costume. It was hot.  And  heavy!  Yet two 12 year old boys had just spent 20 minutes dancing with this thing on their heads.

 

 

 

Traditional dance is so important in Bali.  The kids that came to dance for us Saturday night were just from the village around the villa where we’re staying.  Other villages would have been able to put on a similar show, complete with costumes, props, and a gamelan orchestra.  Sunday morning we went to a museum/art center in Ubud (the city we’re very close to).  In the very large entry way into the museum there were classes in Balinese dance.  There were classes going on for very young children and a class for these 11- or 12-year-old girls.  The thing that tickled me was that the instructor could not demonstrate the proper movements of the left hand because she was holding her baby on her left hip while she was teaching.

Ralph and I apparently both took stupid pills Tuesday morning.  We planned an outing to a beach on the south coast with Frank, Janet, and Steve, but we both neglected to put on any sunscreen.  We had been to this beach before just for an hour, so we knew there were plenty of shade umbrellas.  What we both knew but, because of the stupid pills, forgot was that during a 3-hour stay on the beach you can get sunburned just from the reflection off the sand and water.  Both of us got a little pink, but the prize for the worst sunburn went to Frank.  Today, two days later, he is still sore.  The beach was terrific, though – white sandy beach, water a perfect temperature (i.e. too warm for Ralph), and lunch cooked in one of the shacks you see in the picture.  Steve called ahead and let the shack proprietor know that there would be 5 of us for lunch.  While we were on our way in the car, the cook went to the market and bought fresh fish, then brought it back and built a wood fire to do the cooking.  Ralph said it was the best fish he had ever had and I think I agree.

Wednesday night our wonderful driver, Wayan, invited everyone from the villa for dinner.  He and his family went to a LOT of work to cook and serve a meal Western style – table and chairs, cutlery, and desert.  The food, though, was Balinese and delicious.  The Balinese eat in a very different style than we do in the West.  Food is cooked in the morning and each person eats when s/he gets hungry during the day.  People usually do not eat at the same time and, even if they do, will often eat with their backs to each other.  There are no plates or cutlery; people eat with their hands by taking up a little rice and a little vegetable or piece of meat.  It’s actually much neater than you would imagine.

In the picture above, Michael is serving himself from the bounty on the table and Wayan is standing next to his 12 year old son, Ono.  On the far right is Wayan’s nephew, Wayan.  Balinese names are both quite simple and confusing.  There are only four names.  The first child is named Wayan, the second is Myoman, the third is Kadek, and the last is Ketut.  If you have a fifth child, you start again with Wayan.  Actually, it is a little more complicated that this because there is a little flexibility with the name of the second or third child, but most people stick to the traditional names. 

A lot of this part of Bali looks like this.  This picture was taken on the “Wholesale Road” just outside Ubud.  The road has a real name but all the Westerners called it Wholesale Rd.  There is a long artistic tradition in Bali.  Michael says that it stems from the fact that it takes so little effort to grow food here that the Balinese have had time to devote to painting, wood carving, stone carving, weaving, jewelry making, and so on.  There do seem to be workshops everywhere.  Twenty years or so ago, the government decided to establish one road outside Ubud where people could bring all their work and sell to middle men.  This makes it easier for buyers from Cost Plus, Pier One, etc. to come to Bali and buy in bulk.

The parts of Bali that don’t look like the last picture look like this one.  This is the greenest place I’ve ever been – greener, even, than Ireland.  In the lower elevations the terraces are all rice paddies.  Steve took us on a wonderful 25 km bike ride the other day that began in the mountains.  It was about 95% downhill.  As we breezed down the mountain, we saw lots of other things being grown – lettuce, cauliflower, corn, citrus (like the small oranges that are for sale in front of these people’s house), and flowers, lots of flowers – hydrangeas and marigolds, primarily – to be used in ceremonies.  Note the personal temple that occupies the corner of the family compound.  There is a similar temple in every family compound, always in the corner of the compound that is closest to the highest mountain in Bali, Gunung Anung.

Bali, part 3 will be posted in a few days.  Right now, I’ve got to get to the massage table.  Noora (of the magic hands) is waiting…..