Dreaming Big in Bali

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Student Blossoming

The students are blossoming before our eyes

June 13, 2013

Being with the high school students adds real depth and dimension to this trip. It’s a pleasure watching them unfold and blossom, maturing into young men and women as the days go by. Gaylon and Zinnia give them the responsibilities of adults. The YGs (younger generation) are learning how to manage their tight budget and have become shrewd at bargaining in the markets, skillfully using their limited Indonesian vocabulary to express their needs. They understand that the goal of bargaining is for both the buyer and the seller to feel they got a good deal. They choose where they want to eat their meals, apart from the adults, and have to figure out how much they can order so they stay within the budget they are given for the day. The OGs eat somewhere else, except when we have “dates” with the students at which time two adults pair up with two students for dinner at a restaurant of the student’s choice, so we can have the time and space to get to know each other better over a quiet dinner. There are times when the students are free to wander around the city on their own and are trusted not to get lost or get run over by a motor scooter or car on main street. On one of the free afternoons, the kids went together to the local soccer field and played soccer, and were soon joined by Balinese kids.

One evening after dinner we gathered in the meeting room with the students. We each were asked to tell an encapsulated story of our lives so that the students could get a better sense of us OGs and be inspired by all the potential choices they have in their lives to follow the paths that most suit them.

Jorge sound asleep after Balinese dance class

We have just begun Balinese dancing class, one for the women and one for the men. It is a style of dancing that is foreign to us and requires the use of muscles that are not toned or flexible. We bend our knees into a deep squat with our butts sticking out, but our backs straight. We sway our hips to the rhythm of the gamelan melody. Our hands are in contorted positions which will eventually look graceful, we hope. Our eyes are opened wide, mouths turned up into a smile, and our head moves from side to side. Each movement of our hands symbolizes something, such as an offering of food or the gesture of throwing flower petals. I never guessed a couple hours of dancing could be so exhausting. After class, at the nearby restaurant, the kids lay on the floor of the restaurant and fell asleep. I took a picture because I thought you might not believe that these energetic kids would be so tired just from dancing. Eventually, toward the end of our time in Bali, we will dress up in the traditional garb and do a performance for everyone’s amusement.

Students wiped out after their Balinese dance class. They are asleep on the floor of the restaurant where they ate lunch

Yesterday we went to another less opulent cremation ceremony for 30 dead people from a village about 20 minutes outside of Ubud. When enough bodies have accumulated to make the ceremony more affordable, the bodies waiting for cremation are dug up out of the ground where they’ve been waiting for the occasion. I was told during the cremation that many deaths are caused by traffic accidents which are a common occurrence around here. Zinnia knew of a woman walking her child home from school who was hit by a vehicle and killed. Gaylon and Zinnia have done a good job in ensuring that the students and the OGs are vigilant at all times when walking along the main streets. I often hold onto one of the OGs while crossing the street because it is sensory overload for the part of my brain that was damaged after the accident. It’s actually somewhat frightening for me because my eyes cannot change position and refocus quickly due to the nerve damage.

Last night after dark our driver took us to a little village that is famous for its Kacek dancers. The dancers are local villagers that are lavishly dressed in ornate costumes with elaborate headdresses and re-enact the love story from the Hindu epic called Ramayana.

Our puppet making class in the afternoons, which alternates with the drawing and painting classes, is taught by a master puppeteer and mask maker named Anom. His wife is Nonick. They are a delightful couple. Gaylon and Zinnia sponsored them to come to the International Fork Art Market in Santa Fe in 2010. They have been coming to Santa Fe each year since then to sell their beautiful work and will be there this July. If you are going to the Fork Art Market this year, be sure to look for them. I think you’ll be enchanted by them and by their work.

Tingklit, with hollow bamboo tubes, played like marimba with both hands.

Our regular gamelan lessons have come to an end. Now we are learning to play the tingklet which is an instrument made of hollow bamboo pipes that is played like marimba. The left hand plays the melody while the right hand keeps the beat. As beginners, it requires us to intensely concentrate to make each hand do something different from the other hand. Another great form of emptying the mind.

As I was preparing for this trip to Bali, a friend of mine who is getting to know me suggested I not let it be known that I’m a doctor and see what it would feel like not having anyone ask me for help while I’m on vacation. Practicing medicine is such a deeply entrenched part of who I am and what my life path is all about, that I thought this suggestion would be an interesting challenge. But within no time at all, word got out and I was asked dozens of medical questions and asked to see a few sick people, including a little Balinese baby who had a rash all over her body which turned out to be related to the laundry detergent. At a certain point, I gave in to temptation and talked freely about medicine when people asked me questions. I’ve nicknamed some of us adults on the trip who are interested in nutrition the “Tanpa Gula” Group, which means “without sugar.” Since sugar is used liberally in the food here, we say “tanpa gula” for each item we order on the menu. By the way, other than too much sugar and too much salt, the food in Bali is delicious and nutritious, as well as fresh and locally grown.

Hoop gardens along the path of my morning walk. As you can imagine, there is an abundance of vegetables here

Irrigation ditch with abundance of water

√

Building where cooking class was held. Not the handsome architecture

Chicken in the temple. "tidak apa apa." (no problem)

Tomorrow, June 14^th, I will be arriving at a very big number in life which is associated with Medicare eligibility. I’m not sure how I got here.

Orchids are everywhere in great profusion

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Quick message to blog readers

A friend alerted me to the fact that if you click "reply" to my blog post, your message will be lost in cyberspace because it's a "no-reply" email. If you have tried to send me a message this way, please re-send the message either using my personal email address or by going onto the blog website, dreamingbiginbali.blogspot.com and leaving a message in the comment section. Click onto "Comment." I welcome your feedback.

Pictures of morning walk, volcanos, temples, offerings,

Rice paddies with a chain of volcano on the misty horizon in the early morning

Gathering place with roof made of palm fronds

Little home and shop on my morning route along the rice paddies

Three stages of construction of new hotel on the edge of a rice paddy

Baktur Volcano, last erupted in the 1960's

Father of our puppet and mask making instructor, eating from bowl lined with banana leaves

Monkey that unscrewed the water bottle top and drank the water.

Rushing river at bottom of valley with the ancient temple

My resting feet at the meditation spot in the middle of the river

Gamelan performance with young boys in the Arma Museum

Open air market where you can find just about anything

Flower petals included as part of the daily offerings

Monday, June 10, 2013

Unscheduled time to roam

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Most mornings I get up early with the first light, before it gets too hot, and walk up to the road that leads to the rice paddies. I look to the east at the big volcano Agung in the distance and watch the sun appear on its flank. To the west is a chain of volcanoes that one can see through the mist in the far distance. Along the narrow, muddy path I can see life beginning to hum. I see a woman washing her clothes in the irrigation ditch full of fast flowing water. I see ducks systematically eating their way through the rice paddies, doing insect control and natural fertilization, making quite a racket. I pass farmers going off to work their fields. We greet each other with “Selamat pagi” (Good morning). “Ke mana?” (Where are you going?) “Jalan Jalan.” (Just walking around). “Selamat jalan.” (Happy walking around). The narrow path leads me through dense jungle-like vegetation, then loops back along the rice fields and ends up on the main road which is a jolting experience after the peace of the walk in nature. The main street is polluted and noisy, with cars and motor scooters choking the street, traveling at high velocity, making crossing the street a harrowing experience. I reach our street, Jalan Kajeng, walk the half mile up the quiet road to our beautiful and peaceful bungalows and join my neighbors for breakfast on a large balcony that overlooks a rice paddy surrounded by an abundance of tropical vegetation. By the way, this beautiful hotel where the OG’s (older generation) are staying costs $20 a day I'm told, breakfast included.

Last Sunday morning we left at 6:30 am to go to a famous “water” temple far into the countryside. The moss-covered temple is located at the bottom of a steep walled valley with a fast flowing river running through it. Into the sides of the cliffs on both sides of the valley are carved gigantic bas relief temples, so ancient that they predate the Balinese people. The temple itself includes a few caves where the former king came to meditate. Until recently the caves were off limits to visitors. After we silently prowled around in our bare feet, exploring every nook and cranny, Gaylon asked us to go find a place to meditate for an hour. I waded out to a rock in the middle of the river, sat motionless, and went into an altered state of deep peace as I watched and listened to the water flow all around me.

The rest of Sunday was free time. We all headed off in different directions. My neighbor let me use his bathroom to bathe and wash my clothes since he has hot water and I don’t. The clothes will take at least a couple of days to dry, even hanging outside on a drying rack. I could pay less than a dollar to have my laundry done, but I prefer not wearing clothes that smell of laundry detergent and fabric softener.

It felt luxurious to have unscheduled time for ourselves…a whole day of it. I headed down our peaceful road, Jalan Kajeng, lined with little shops and inviting restaurants. As I was heading into a restaurant to get a young coconut juice, a woman came up to me and asked if I would like a foot treatment which would include soaking and washing the feet, cutting the nails, and massaging the feet and lower legs. The price was so low, I couldn’t resist. She led me into her beautiful home and into what looked like her bedroom. There was a large bed with an intricately hand carved wooden frame in the middle of the room. No massage table. For a half hour she worked on my feet. I was so relaxed I could barely get out of the chair. She asked if I would like a facial. Without hesitation, I said yes. That was another half hour of bliss. Again, I had a hard time getting off her bed. She asked if I would like an hour long total body massage. Again, I said yes without hesitation or deliberation. Two hours had passed by the time I finally got off her bed. As I was getting dressed, I noticed an offering of flowers and tiny piles of food in a little box made of banana leaves that are seen everywhere. The woman explained that each day of the week she buys 50 of those offerings at the open air market and puts them around the house in special places to assure the health of her family and the prosperity of her business. When I asked about the price of her treatment, she said it would cost me 160,000 rupias, the equivalent of $16. I gave her a 40% tip which still didn’t amount to much. It took me a while to get re-oriented as I left her home and her lovely presence and stepped back into the street with its comings and goings.

The main streets are full of tourists and ex-pats. There are plenty of Aussies here, For them, going to Bali is the equivalent of us going to Mexico in terms of distance. There are quite a few Chinese tourists as well. And of course Americans are everywhere. The Europeans don’t start arriving in droves until July and August, I’m told.

I walked along main street until I reached the open air market which I found intriguing, especially the food part with all the marvelous spices. I’m not much of a shopper. It’s not my favorite activity, but I do enjoy seeing the unusual handmade items in some of the stores, especially the beautiful fabrics. I bought a little handmade mask to keep away the evil spirits, a silk scarf, and some Indonesian handmade batik fabric which I took to a seamstress to have made into pants. I walked along Hanoman Street and then Monkey Forest Road which led to an actual monkey forest. I didn’t stay too long in the monkey forest because the monkeys were known to be rather aggressive and sometimes jumped up on people and even bit them. A person staying at our hotel saw a monkey jump up onto a lady’s head and pick at her hair. I stayed long enough to watch a large male monkey grab a tourist’s water bottle, unscrew the top and take a drink and then spill the rest of the water onto the ground.

On my walk back to my bungalow on the side streets, I was intrigued by the architecture of the buildings. Traditional Balinese houses are handsome, with unusual architecture. The roofs of the buildings appear to be made of three different materials. In the countryside, one can see roofs made from palm fronds, especially on the houses of those with less wealth. The roofs of the temple structures are made of thatch prepared from the fibers of the coconut palm tree. Many of the roofs of the older homes as well as the expensive newer homes that are rented to tourists have tiled roofs. The edges of these tiled roofs slant upwards like the roofs one sees on temples throughout Asia. I find this medley of architectural styles appealing to my sense of aesthetics.

It is hard sometimes to distinguish between a family compound and a temple. Family compounds are made up mostly of outdoor spaces within the perimeter walls. They have spacious courtyards within which are found the private family temples. It is in these courtyards where most family activities take place. When we take classes in puppet making and painting, we work outside in the courtyard of the artist’s family home. When it rains, we take shelter in little covered pavilions where we continue our work. It’s so pleasant to spend much of our days here in Bali outside.

The Bali language is very easy to learn because there is so little grammar. Actually, it’s not Balinese I’m learning. It’s Indonesian, the language in which the many linguistically different ethnic groups in this archipelago can communicate. It is also the language of commerce in these parts. In their homes, the Bali people speak Balinese which is quite different from Indonesian. I’ve made a special effort to learn a few words of Balinese because it invariably makes the Bali people laugh out loud and creates an instant connection.

That’s all for now. I’ll try to get some more pictures to you as soon as the internet is running more consistently.

Selamat tido (have a good sleep---literally, happy sleeping)

Short Gamelan video on YouTube

I think you might get a kick out of this little 3 minute video....poor quality, taken with my iPhone...but it will give you a sense of our first gamelan lesson. If the link doesn't work, go to YouTube and search for gamelan first lesson.