the silent smile

every day around 17:30, the "aunt" comes to bless this resort. she is a short woman but with a big round face and a big round belly. her smile is like that of mona lisa. her walk is like that of a priestess; slow, looking forward, non pulsed by anything other than her actions. she wears a mans wide striped greyish polo shirt, and a simple beige sarong with a yellow sash. she carries a small round plastic tray on which she has prepared ahead of time 4 small flower offerings with a stick of burning incense in each. she lives in a small shack behind the resort. and she slowly" glides" along the dirt path. a stone wall separates the path from the resort and since she is short, i can only see from her mouth to the top of her head where the dark hair is pulled into a big bun. she does not look left or right, just silently walks until she gets to the far gate at which point she carefully balances the tray while her other hand reaches down to move the wooden lock to the left so she can enter, and then again closes the gate. i catch her eye sometimes at that moment, as i am usually sitting by the sofa at this time of day, and i smile at her, and she gives me a mona lisa smile in return in silence. she walks slowly and steadily down the path that leads to the altar for the resort towards the rear. after having placed the first offering there and blessed it, she continues over to the big bale where we eat and which is the center of the resort. i am usually sitting on the sofa that is next to the little altar hanging on the cement post. she removes her flip flops and then alights the 2 steps and steadily holds the tray again in one hand while removing the offering with incense which she places on the pile of former offerings that are piled up on the altar from days gone by. she must go on her tiptoes to reach the altar. not a single superfluous movement is made. once she has placed the little triangular folded banana leaf cup on the altar, her thick fingers on her right hand dip one flower petal into the little cup of holy water that is on the tray, and sprinkles the drops from it with a gentle flick of her hand, three times onto the offering, and then, with petal between second and third finger, she makes a gentle elegant waving movement along with the wisps of smoke from the incense with her stubby hand over the offering while silently blessing. finished, she slowly takes the step back to the two steps and "floats" into her flip flops and slowly and steadily walks back to the front gate where she does the same procedure on the earth in front of the resort, and on the corner of the wall. and then walks back, slowly and gracefully to her house. i have never heard her speak, and cannot even imagine her speaking. her silent presence is so powerful.

i always stop whatever it is i am doing when she comes to make the offerings. somehow i have a feeling that her dedicated simple humble daily gesture is what makes this place so magical.

bali from the car window

bureaucracy...i needed to sign a piece of paper for my visa extension. down south. ridiculous. but true. so...an 8 hour car ride with 5 minutes of going in to the immigration office and signing it. (at least that was quick!). my driver didn't know any english, and seemed content not to have to speak with me even though we were sitting next to each other the entire time. once or twice i asked him in balinese if he doesn't want to stop to drink, eat, toilet. he shook his head no. he was in his 30's and driving very fast, not like my mild mannered older driver i usually take. now i remember, he did say 2 words; one was "ubud" the name of a well know city here, so as we passed it he said "ubud". and on the way back he suddenly stopped the car in the middle of a big bridge and said "copy", and gestured ahead. so i understood he was dropping me off and i should slowly cross the bridge and meanwhile he is going to drive over to the kiosk and drink some coffee. hallelujah! when i arrived he was finishing his cigarette and had 4 more in his hand...you can buy single cigarettes here, according to how much money you have in your pocket.

the car rides always fascinate me since it is a chance to see so much in so short a time. and each time i do this trip it is a different time of day, so the scenes i see are quite different. this time what characterized the ride was that every single village still had the tall bamboo branch from the big ceremony with decorations hanging on it, all along their main road. the variations were astounding to see, each one creating different effects with color or cut designs or what was hanging and how much was hanging, according to your budget. i wondered how long these decorations will still be around, since the holiday ended 10 days ago, but it definitely gave a very festive feel to it.

again, seeing little 3 year olds and older, walking along the street absent mindedly alone or with friends, laughing, running, and us missing them by a hair! and all those school children walking kilometers uphill to return home along the winding path, a fraction away from the zooming cars and motorbikes...i just tried not to imagine what could happen, since no one else seems concerned with it.

we left in the morning and the main site was seeing women of all ages, walking kilometers with a big bucket either on their way to or from a well in order to bring water to their homes. others with a baby in one arm and a gerry can in the other. i could understand why the women look so much older than what we know in the west. they live a very hard life, just in order to have the basics; some water to cook with, wash the clothes, and clean themselves.

now is guava season, so there were sacks of them on the side of the road, probably waiting for someone to pick them up and bring to market. often piles of wood, or coconuts or rocks are in piles on the sides of the road with no one around, and somehow people respect that and know it is for sale....how the transaction takes place i haven't figured out yet.

as we passed by the schools, the children were lined up in the front courtyard, praying in front of the altar, later moving tables and chairs, or collecting the leaves they had swept up, before starting the studies. and on the way back seeing all of these teenagers speeding home on the windy roads to their villages, kilometers away. and a foreigner on his mountain bicycle naively crossing the road on a turn in the road and almost being run over by either us or the teenagers zooming by.

my driver honked almost around every turn, and i tried to guess what honk means what, but didn't figure that out. sometimes it is: beware, i am coming, other times it is ; move over i am overtaking, or thank you, or hello. the two ambulances that we encountered on this trip did not impress him....he and the rest of traffic continued as usual, even though the siren was going and the ambulance was behind us. only when the opposing lane was free did it overtake us along with a waving hand gesture of whoever was in the passenger seat as they went through the red light....it appeared that the waving hand made more of an impact than the siren.

cars that stopped or parked in the middle of the lane out of convenience, did not get a curse or a sigh or a response, just slowly go around them when the other lane is empty. seat belts were worn only when we arrived down south and there are traffic officers directing traffic, and suddenly all the people were wearing helmets while riding their motorbikes.

in one village there were bundles of bamboo pieces, each half a meter long or so. i couldn't figure out what someone would do with such quantities in that size. then further on i realized that it is a village that makes all of the wind chimes that are sold all over the world. i saw the villagers sitting on the ground, cutting the bamboo pieces different lengths in order to get the musical scale.

i had little glimpses into courtyards, entrances, and one place down south was a restaurant that was so beautifully done. i tried to figure out what was it that i saw that touched me so? only later at another place did i see an advertisement that said " primitive" and i realized that what i am pulled towards are things that are primitive, and authentic. also when i studied art history, that was what interested me most, the real, natural, primitive, authentic crafts of daily living. that is what made me so happy also when i returned back here in the afternoon....to see the sea again with the real fishermen out there fishing for their livelihood and their hand made boats and the nets they fix each day with needle and thread, and the stones they collect from the shore in order to weigh down the nets at sea, and the paddle they have carved from a piece of wood,

after having seen bali from the car window, i realized that there is no other spot in bali that i would rather be, than where i am, my resort, right on the beach, without even a road leading to it, with the fishing boats and fishermen lining the shore, and small temples on all sides, and some kids laughing and playing soccer on the sloping black sand next to the waves, and the tide which changes the way the coast looks every morning, is what makes me feel good here. primitve and authentic ( along with a bit of my western necessities of a toilet, hot shower, fresh healthy food, a nice bed, and a swimming pool :) )

the high high priest ceremony

it started with a comment that on saturday the big big ceremony will be taking place at a neighboring temple about 20 minutes from here and that probably the womens' gamelon temple band will be playing there. not one to miss that, i decided to go and possibly meet the women and try and arrange to practice with them here in the village, since getting back and forth to the womens band in the neighboring village where they practice each night would be nearly impossible. i asked what exactly it means the "big big" ceremony?! (since each time there is a big ceremony i am told "this is the really big ceremony!" but it happens about once a week, so ....)

i was surprised to hear the answer that this time the higher level holy man will be blessing everyone, not just the priest! "not just the priest"! and here i thought these down to earth priests are so cool because they are very personable and human, not anything untouchable or super serious about them...and it turns out that "they" are "just priests" but 2 levels higher than them is a very holy man that only he can do this ceremony so everyone goes on saturday because he will be there concluding the month of music and offerings that all of the surrounding villages have been participating in. ( how come no one told me until now?!!) and that at this closing ceremony it would be all the different dancers that i have seen in their costumes, but not seen dancing yet....so ...not to miss another puzzle piece, i decided i would definitely be there, somehow, some way.

"when does it start?" oh...the typical fuzzy answer "i will be going at 3 but it probably really begins at 6, but at 4 you will probably hear the gamelons." uh huh....okay..so, i deck myself out in the white kabiya blouse (after clarifying with her that for this ceremony i should wear white? yes! in the end, few among the thousand wore white...) and picked and washed (and dried so they wouldn't be all soggy like last time) flowers for the prayer ceremony, and bought some incense from a lovely old woman that ran a little kiosk and could hardly walk but was outside ...yep, sweeping...and i needed toothpaste and tried to figure out how not to get charged double since i am a "foreigner"=rich) but when i looked in the little glass cupboard i saw that the big tube said 8000 on it...a big $1...so with the price on it i knew i was safe, and also what a bargain! at home it would have cost $6! how do they get it so cheap? and then i wanted some incense and picked out a package and asked how much....even though i have learnt the numbers (or so i thought) adding so many zeros always leaves me totally confused. i pulled out a 10,000 bill, and got the no sign from her, okay...and then figured okay..add another zero and started to pull out five 20,000 rupia bills and she started to laugh and pushed them back in my wallet, also returning the 10,000 one and took one 20,000 and gave me change...ah yes...the incense...10 packs of 10 sticks each...cost...yep...another $1....so silly of me to think 10 packs of incense would cost $10!

anyways..was dressed, had a little bag with my flowers and a banana leaf to lay them out on so they are honorable and not just tossed in my plastic bag, and my incense and off i went (and with $2 stuck in my bra in case i need a bus ride and something to eat all day). i started to walk down the road in the village in order to catch a van/bus to drop me off at the temple. i had asked my friend to write the name down so i would know what to tell the driver; Pura Ponjok Batu. ah...me and languages...tried repeating it as i walked along the road so that i wouldn't have to take out the piece of paper to tell him. batu i already knew because i have been drawing mandalas on stones (almost 100! already... yes i am obsessive and know it but until it causes pain, it is a positive trait;) ) and when we were joking about the possible names for my new stone mandala business the owner told me that batu means stone. so that stuck in my mind. but how to remember that "j" in ponjok?! and as i am walking and practicing i see a beautiful woman in temple clothes, picking a bugonvillia flower to put in her big black bun of hair, as her husband waits in the car at their driveway (yes, wealthy, most do not have neither car or driveway, bugonvillia, yes). she handed him a little flower too for his black hair and black kerchief on his forehead. i chanced it: "anda akan pura ponjok batu?" "yeh" and then did motions of me going in their car with them. but she motioned, "no room in car"....since the windows were dark, i couldn't see in and figured it was full of family members...a good try...thanked her and continued walking.

the car drove off ahead of me and then stopped 10 meters on and the driver got out in his impressive black jacket and orange satin sarong and started to prop up his trunk with a pole. ah! he's going to let me sit in the trunk...isn't that nice of him! (no one obeys traffic laws, at least in the villages). but instead he opened the back door, took out a little suitcase and motioned that i can sit in the back seat of the private. so that was why she said no room?! good thing he was a little more ingenious!

i sat down, thanked them, clarified again that we are going to the temple, since i realized how naive i am to think that just because it is 3 in the afternoon and i see a woman in temple dress it means she is going to where i am. everyday, all day, there are people in temple dress since there is always a ceremony somewhere...so i better make sure. he said they were going to denpassar where he is a teacher and lives, so i assumed they would drop me off at the temple along the way. and off we drove. he tried to speak with me, but my indonesian wasn't too good, and his english wasn't too good, but he managed to tell me that next month he leaves for australia for a gamelon performance. aha! he plays the gamelon! another chance for me to try and find out about the womens band...but alas, a lack of language and sitting in the back seat did not reveal anything tangible.

i opened the window for some air but after a while he asked me to close it. and we sat for another 15 minutes in a hot car....why they chose to drive like this, i was unsure. afterwards i asked someone if the balinese are sensitive to wind, or if wind is evil or if it is the dust from the construction work, or just not wanting their hair to be blown...yep...once you are all spruced up for the ceremony, you do not want your hair blown, even if it means driving in a hot car for 20 minutes.

we arrived at the temple, and they parked, so i realized they too were coming in and then later traveling to the south, so no chance to return with them. getting the lift in was already a godsend, so i had perfect faith that finding a way back at 10 at night would also work out fine....i hoped. whenever the thought occurred, i just reminded myself that everything is perfect. let go of fear.

the temple is right on the main road overlooking the sea and is very big and of black stone. i followed the man as he walked up a few flights of steps, since his wife was busy bringing her first offering to the priest that was at ground level. i was happy to have someone to follow around a bit. we entered a big courtyard with a bale set up with some 50 gamelons and drums and gongs. he pointed to the one where a person sits and plays with wooden sticks on 8 gongs and said this is special for todays ceremony! we sat and chatted a little. there weren't many people around. still early, and then i heard gamelon playing in the inner upper courtyard and decided to walk up that flight of stairs to and see who is playing.

as i entered the narrow opening at the top of the stairs i was surprised to see little 5 year old kids playing the temple music on the gamelons...they were all dressed up with their sarongs and kerchiefs on their heads and were so cute playing the music just like the adults! and here i thought that my being able to play was a sign of my ability to concentrate and my musical talent! inside the courtyard were men and women, hanging around, praying. there were very tall 7 tiered decorations made from colored dough in all kinds of geometric shapes and placed on long poles before the altars. each pole was a different color: yellow, black, red and white.

i continued to wander around the premises for the next 3 hours. even saw a big sign that had the whole program for the month and had just learnt the word for "wife" (which is also the word for woman) and read that the wives gamelon band had already played a few days earlier and so i missed that. when a group of 10 year old girls walked by me with their gold ribbons and white dresses i asked if they were going to dance now and with a nod and a smile and what is your name, i followed them down down down until we reached the sea. they sat down on the pebbles, i sat down on the pebbles...thinking aha! finally i will see the girls dancing...but after 1/2 hour i realized that this is probably just another ceremony since all the priests were hanging around, another gamelon band was playing the music i love so much, and non stop women filing down the stairs to the sea from the temple with their offerings, placing them on altars here and there that look out to the sea. since i never seem to feel like there is a beginning or an end, unless they say "om shanti shanti shanti om" and everyone gets up suddenly, i decided that i had had enough of sitting looking out at the waves, even though it was nice, and the gamelons were good, but maybe i was missing something up in the temple. i said goodbye and began to walk in the direction of the steps and suddenly realized that "the bell" was ringing and turned my head only to find the "high high" priest sitting right in front of where i was standing, in the middle of a ceremony! oops...made an about turn, and took another flight of steps up, where people were busy photographing themselves...it always amazes me how multiple things are all going on at the same time, and it makes no difference if people are walking, sitting , talking, on their cell phones, everyone is just doing his thing and no one says anything to anyone about what they "should" be doing.

back upstairs i found the man who had given me the ride was playing with the gamelon band already. i stood there and watched. they are all very nonchalant, smoking, looking about, not at all focused on what they are doing, they can do it blindfold. i spotted my former gamelon teacher and we smiled at each other. i tried to figure out what it is about it that fascinates me. i saw that each one is sitting next to someone else that is playing a different tune that echos each other. no written music, they are all just listening to the drummer who is the leader and signals when it is loud, soft, fast, slow, begins and ends. and if someone has gone off and his gamelon is not being played, someone else that happens to know just joins in, after glancing at his neighbor to know when to join in with the opposite beat.

eventually all the girls came back in from the sea along with all of the priests and the high high one so i followed them into the inner chamber. the non stop filing in of women with offerings since 3 in the afternoon had continued but in greater quantities, and i decided that maybe i misunderstood the directions i was told about when to pray, and that i should join in now, at 6 p,m. while there is still room on the large grounds to sit and receive the holy water. again, i sit down, the heads turn, the giggles and nudges about the foreigner with all the rigmarole ( incense, flowers, matches...) and just as i am all settled in, a little girl comes up to me and i realize it is nyomans daughter telling me in balinese that i should join them in the front row, and i laugh, that after being there for hours with thousands of people, how just at this moment, we both appeared in the inner temple for this round of blessings and she found me! love that synchronicity! picked up my stash and moved next to them and it was nice to finally know someone. i realized that until now i had gone to ceremonies in the village where i am living, and there i always see a familiar face. but here....with villagers from all over, i hadn't seen a single person i knew...so that little nagging voice of "how do you think you are going to get home at 10 at night, 1/2 hour by car, if you don't know or recognize anyone here? and there is no public transport. and even if there was, i had already donated the money i had brought for food and transport, to the temple when i came in, having forgotten that there is always a donation table, and if i have come to enjoy, the least i can do is give them the $2 i brought with me!

so, went through the blessing, nyoman had to go home since staying out late with her baby was not worth risking her getting sick just in order for her to be blessed by the high high priest.her husband has the last word about that. also if someone divorces, the husband gets the kids. period. i stayed around, since all the dancing and priest was still to come. people had put out mats and had baskets with food, and it looked like picnic time. i couldn't make heads or tales out of anything. everyone was happy, easygoing, smiling, sitting on the ground, and a constant coming and going from three different entrances and exits from each courtyard....

then came the moment that nyoman had told me about, that everyone would come into the inner courtyard and that i should get a good seat if i want to see how the priest dresses, etc. and "
by chance" just where i sat is where the priest was busy wrapping a long blue and gold belt around his bare chest on the left shoulder and around his waist many times. his hair was in little knot on the top of his head, he looked about 40, and had a white sarong on and a white satin sheet wrapped around him. that was the most i understood of this high high priest. he was busy doing what he is supposed to do, on a raised platform (bale) while everyone continued to flow back and forth non stop. the dancers began to appear, the gamelons were playing, a balinese shadow play with fire behind a white sheet was going on,storytelling by the puppeteer (who is a very holy man that is gifted in this ritual performed only at the temple) along with the onkelon players for the shadow play , chanting by one and two people at a time, and a priest with a microphone speaking too, along with all of the thousands of people that were seated or mulling around and also talking and giggling....all at once! all i could think of was a 3 ring circus all in one tent. where to look next?

the area of the courtyard right in front of me was where the dancers appeared facing the altars and with the high priest behind the dancers. there was a series of about 7 groups that performed one after another, what looked to me like more or less the same movements, but in different costumes. there were usually about 20 dancers each time, in 2-3 rows all doing the exact same movements, which is more or less putting their weight first on one foot and then on the other, going forward a step, and backwards a step, towards the end, they turn 180 degrees and do the same thing in shortened version. sometimes it was with swords, or tall poles, or long daggers, or gold ribbons. no one was especially watching them, and i realized that this is a dance for god, not for the temple goers...no applause, no smiling, no stage fright, no photographing your husband or child, it all had to do with the powers of good and evil and the constant movement between them (if you ask me!) the plastic bags "on stage" from the rubbish people had left, did not seem to interfere with any of the dancing, at a certain moment whoever happened to be sitting right next to the dancer suddenly jumped up in order to put the sword or dagger into its case on their back, so everyone seemed to know the ritual of it all. nothing new. servants of god. period.

when it was over we all received the holy water from the priests, including the young woman next to me that was busy sms-ing in between praying and the other teenagers to my right giggling and teasing each other. some even got up before the "om shanti" ending, maybe to beat the temple rush? and as we all walked out i again thought, hmm...how am i going to find someone from tejakula? i don't see anyone i know. at most i will sleep in the temple and figure out how to get back tomorrow morning. this is in gods hands, not mine. i walked to where all the motorbikes were parked and where everyone was getting on and zooming off. i thought i will start by standing in the right direction...i need to go east! and then when i spot someone that doesn't have another 1,2, 3 people on the motorbike with him i can ask if they are going to tejakula. just as i made my game plan a man drove by me slowly alone on his bike, wearing a jacket with a little emblem that said "tejakula"! My man!! " Tejakula?" head nod yes, me motion that i want to go too, hop on and off we go. one of the fishermen that i see every morning suddenly appears and smiles at me and tells the driver that i live at cili emas in tejakula as we drive off. i laugh again at the synchronicity...thank god for the ride, and off we go. of course, even at 10 at night, with hundreds of motorbikes on the road returning to the villages from the ceremony, most of the men toot him and laugh about me sitting on the back of his bike. he doesn't speak any english, but with my little bit of indonesian i am able to tell him where to drop me off and thank him. i never even saw his face. just the emblem in the dark and happy that i got a ride home. i was dropped off on the corner after which he drove off, and i had my 20 minute walk home to try and digest again what i had just been through...what is it all about...i have no idea...but it works for them.

"i leave all negativity"

6 months ago i was shown a series of 5 tibetan exercises that are meant to insure a long healthy life. there are affirmations that go along with them. i have been practicing them daily ever since, and definitely feel a change for the good. while i was reading the affirmations this morning, one of them "jumped out at me" from the page: "i leave all negativity".

hmmm....i have been reading this same sentence for 180 days....what happened that today it suddenly became so urgent? i know that yesterday i had been through an e-mail interaction with the secretary who is taking care of my visa here in bali. she had notified me to go to a certain office at certain time and day and arrange something. i did it, but when i returned 6 hours later, it turned out she had sent me to the wrong office and i had to go again, to a place 8 hours away to and fro. she apologized for the mistake and sent me the new information.

i am not busy, every expedition is a fascinating experience for me, and i have all the time in the world. but the fact that this was going to cost me more money on a special cab, pissed me off. i knew i had to go there. period. but instead of just asking her what day and time, i made a point of telling her that i am not happy about the fact that it is going to cost me more money on traveling.

a series of e-mails followed with her profuse apologies and also the technical details. by the time we had finished our communication i was thanking her for all of her time and energy in accommodating me. something inside me "didn't feel right". i decided to consult nyoman about it all, because the taste was similar to what i felt also the day before after i had been assertive with mithas father telling him it was unacceptable to me that he had agreed on me paying the gamelon teacher money, without my consent. he changed the subject when i finished telling him that i was not happy about giving away all the money i had left to the teacher. then silence, then he said, "it is my fault" and i agreed with him, and then changed the subject to more pleasant things, satisfied that he had admitted he was at fault, a noble gesture in my eyes. but after that, i saw he avoided eye contact with me and the usual overt generosity and hospitality was tinged. the thought had come to me at night: i made him lose face. and here i was again having a need that the secretary REALIZE that i am not pleased that she made a mistake.

when i asked nyoman if "losing face" is as horrible here in bali as stabbing someone with a knife in the heart for us westerners....she smiled politely. even that was proof of this ingrain belief...because she wouldn't just come out and say yes, since that would have made ME lose face for having done that. so instead, the smile, and the lightness, and unity between us. i continued to question her , asking what does she do when she is angry with someone? smile, change the subject, since friendship is more important than this passing feeling of anger. it can only harm the person it is being directed at, and also me.

and i thought, yes, so she made a mistake. anyways i am going to have to go on the trip, regardless of whether i make her feel shame and blame for causing me additional travel expenses. and what did i gain from it? a boosting of the ego, of my self will, superiority, for a few seconds, and then, emptiness, and a taste of negativity. i thought; wouldn't it be nice to be able to make a mistake, and the other person would just say "no problem. i make mistakes too, when would you like me to go?"

i continued to ask nyoman how the other person will learn about their mistake if i am not assertive and point it out. she smiled again, "people know inside that they have made a mistake, and then they will not do it again, so it is nicer to keep the relationship good and each one slowly slowly feels good together again, without having made someone lose face."

i saw that she was right. i know i had to go through the stage of testing out my assertiveness with them all, but now, once i have tasted the price of it, i prefer to "leave all negativity"...at least by expressing it outwardly at the expense of someone being hurt by it...and instead try and focus on the mirror they are putting in front of me at that moment and to just recognize another character trait which no longer serves me and which i am willing to let go of.

i have been having many conversations with the guests that come here from all walks of life and from different places in the world; belgium, norway, germany, holland, switzerland, austria. we have all experienced the unpleasantness of being taken advantage of by the balinese financially. and try as i might i would like to believe that they are not bad or worse than any other nationality, and that there must be something here in their culture that i just still do not get. the man from norway gave me his copy of lonely planet bali to read, since i had so many questions about the culture and behavior. when i was finished reading it i felt really good. the authors were so positive, so aware of all the differences of western and eastern behavior, but they kept the focus on the friendly, smiling, open, devoted, talented nature of them. of course it is a travel guide, so you are not going to be discouraging people from visiting because of the shadow side of the people, but still i saw how important it is to stay positive, to leave all negativity. it can be revealed...and then smile.

the norwegian man had two suggestions that he gave me: smile while you say "no buying" as the hawkers try and sell you stuff or the little children beg for some coins. it works. and, that when they have picked from us, (the "money tree") it is not out of greed; but rather first of all they know that when you pick a fruit, more grow, so if they pick our money, more will grow for us .(which is true, thank god) and secondly, that all they really are doing is bringing a truer balance to the world; there are those that have too much (money) and those that do not have enough in order to live at a level of necessity, so what they are doing is actually good in the long run, for all involved. and now i am sure i will be given enough experiences in the next couple of days to PRACTICE leaving all negativity....how else can we learn a new skill, if not by having to practice it again and again....ahh...

the first day of school

there is nothing like the excitement of the first day of school each year! a day out of time...and today was the day that the balinese children began the new school year after their month of summer vacation. i happen to be traveling to the next city on the back of a motorbike so i was able to get the whole array of seeing them all off to school.

it started when i arrived at ketuts house at 6:30 and he was just ushering his kids out of the complex onto his motorbike to drop them off 3 minutes away at school. his daughter started second grade and was unrecognizable underneath the uniform she was wearing! i had know her as a very exotic beautiful little balinese girl that was always busy being feminine. and here she was with a burgundy and white baseball cap on her head and her long sensuous layered hair was pulled into two pigtails with the mandatory burgundy ribbon on them, a knee length burgundy a- line skirt with a black belt and a white button down short sleeved shirt, white socks to mid calf and, ah yes....the brand new black shiny patent leather flats with a black bow that she bought for the new school year! where were her thin delicate long balinese feet that had run barefoot or in flip flops all day? and those poor toes, closed up inside the slightly too large firm brand new shoes as she clumsily learned to walk in them. her older brother, maybe 10 years old, was dressed exactly the same, but with burgundy knee length shorts. each had their backpack on them (yes, pink for the girl, as most all the girls choose , not mandatory color) and how could i forget...each wearing a burgundy tie!

i drove off with their mother who was wearing a snow parka,gloves, and socks and mask for smog and helmet as we drove along the main east west road of bali over to the big city an hour away. i was grateful that we left so early so that i could watch all the kids walking along the sides of the narrow road to school today. even the high school kids wear the same uniform, just in grey and white instead of burgundy, and the pigtails are changed to ponytails in high school and get a red and white ribbon, and no cap. i wondered what the impact was on an entire country of school kids when this mandatory "serious" dress (belts, tie, button down collar, shoes) is worn...how does it influence their individuality? their sexuality? their attitude to studying? to the opposite sex? competition? body image?

as we passed one village after another of children walking happily to school, chatting, laughing, some carrying a little bucket, which meant they would be doing some civic service work with it, like carrying stones for fixing the street, etc, others with their little palm stick broom for their lesson in sweeping, others with a bamboo woven funnel shaped strainer for rice, which is used as a means of discipline (learn to bring it everyday and carry it and if you are naughty,,,you stand with it on your head in front of the class!) i wondered about the principles that were being instilled in them. is it just old fashioned male dominated superiority controlled, or is it a means of instilling a serious attitude to work and learning and school and unity.

we passed a group of kids wearing blue and white sports clothing (shorts and t-shirt for both sexes) and i laughed that the excuse that " i forgot to bring my gym shoes today" doesn't work here, since you are dressed like that for the entire day, or sent home to get dressed! i tried to understand how the families can pay for all of these uniforms, and shoes!? (i don't even think there is a "shoe store" in this entire village, since they all wear flip flops all day which are sold at every single kiosk). i asked the staff here, and they said that they put money away everyday so that they can buy this at the beginning of the year. what?! you have such discipline, when sometimes you don't even have enough money for basics? and they told me that they send the kids to school with 2,000 rupias (8,000 = $1) and that is enough for them to buy a little snack at school for recess and the rest the children put in a little piggy bank that they each have in class, and that they keep track of how much they have saved up in order to buy the school items for the coming year!

it all sounds so well thought out in order to instill such good habits, and obedience. it is very obvious that the respect for elders, including teachers, is top priority here (possibly a tangent from the caste system). and all the children i spoke with were happy to be going back to school and had no desire for a longer vacation. mitha said that she had a few new children in her class of 40 since each time a child can advance to the higher level of his grade if he makes an effort in all of the studies...she is at the A level for her grade, while there are also B and C for the children that do not make an effort to be clever. i also wondered how that influences the childrens' self esteem, and also the ability of the teachers to pace how they teach a group of kids all at the same level...

i have been trying to figure out also what happens to the ego, and self will? it just doesn't seem to exist here, and i know it must. and whether it has just been suppressed by the hinduism, the education, the patriarchal society (even though it is clear to one and all that the woman is the power house here!), OR that they have been taught from birth that community, friendship, unity, consensus, loyalty, family, clan, village, nation, god, is the source for a happy healthy meaningful life and that self will and ego are our "lower" shadow side and need to be recognized internally but not allowed to be expressed externally, thus using the always present "smile" to cover all emotions and to allow them to pass eventually without having done damage to ourselves or others along the way.

and on a lighter note....no matter what time it was when i passed all the schools along the way in early in the morning or on my way back at 11, all the kids were standing in the courtyard having a nice time playing with each others hair or talking, while the teachers and the system got ready for the beginning of the new school year.

timing

Today I suddenly understood the response I have heard, but didn't quite understand it in depth to the phrase; it's not the right time.

As I walked over to ketuts house yesterday to see if I could get a ride with his wife to the major city an hour away, I noticed that all of the rubbish on the sides of the road was dry…the little waterways that are always running through the village in order to water the agriculture, were dry! And now that it was dry, what a perfect time to clean up all of the rubbish that just flows through the village to the sea. As I walked I began to imagine how over the next two months I can just clean this nice little village up, one day at a time.

My inspiration actually came from a memory of how once, when most of my community had debst and they just kept getting bigger and bigger and no one knew how we were going to get people to start to cut down on their buying and live within their salary. A new treasurer took position and had a very unique solution: erase all the debts, and everyone starts from zero…no debts…and that will give the people the impetus to stick to their budgets instead of saying "what difference does it make if I am 1,000 or 1,200 in debt….etc. it worked! I for one, was a bit resentful, since we weren't in debt! And I could have taken advantage of this gesture of cleaning the slate if I had been….but all in all it was a good decision and it helped. I thought that the same thing could happen with all of the rubbish; if we just get rid of the huge quantity that is already dirtying up the village, and they will be living in clean nature… .maybe they will think twice before throwing wrappers and garbage on the ground…maybe….

When I returned to the resort, with my new idea, I looked for madeh, to ask him if he is willing to speak with the mayor about it and that I will do it for free, but need lots of empty sacks that I can fill up and that he will make sure the rubbish is collected after I leave it in sacks along the path. Madeh's answer: it's not the right time. I looked at him, surprised! Here I am offering to clean up the whole village and "its' not the right time"?! and he gently explained that it will still take time to educate the villagers and the mayors willingness to put out a budget etc…and ,,,it's not the right time….i smiled…got it.

When I had met ketut when I returned on this visit and asked him how his plans for some new business' in tejakula were coming along, his response was "it’s not the right time". Ah….didn't quite get it, but, if you say so…I thought it was just a politically correct way of saying it isn't going to happen.

But today….i had to go to the immigration office to give my fingerprints for my visa. The immigration office is near the resort I had lived at previously and had left because of rats. And had also paid in axvance for the room, even though I did not live there for the month I had reserved it…I saw that I had some resentment still, after several months, about it being unfair that they didn't agree to return my money. I had turned to the international hotel association and asked for their help, but never received a response. I had written to the women who had represented me there….but never got a response. And today I had debated whether to go visit them while I am "in the neighborhood" and with some newfound assertiveness to try and get part of the $1000 back, and also let go of the resentment I felt towards these people who had been my friends, (or so I thought).

My solution for moments when I need clarity and don't have it, is to pray for guidance. I did not have clarity of how to travel to the immigration office and I did not have clarity of whether to go over to their resort and chance meeting them and bring up the past….i just didn't know what the issue really is here…am I just holding on to the past? Am I stingy with money? Am I learning how to clarify and communicate? Am I learning how to be assertive with men? Am I learning how to meet confrontation head on? So ….i prayed and let it go and figured "what ever will be will be".

After clarifying a few options for traveling, I chose the simplest one, just pay and get on an old run down van that goes by every hour or so and that's that. But at 3 in the morning when I was suddenly wide awake, I turned on the computer and found a response from ketut that "yes, I can go on the motorbike to singaraja with his wife at 6:30"….again waited for guidance and eventually, after clarifying my motive for leaving so early if my appointment is only at 11, the answer arrived. Yes, go, it keeps things simple. I laughed…if it hadn't been my sons birthday and I hadn't been afraid of being too senile to remember it later on in the day, I wouldn't have turned on the internet….i would have just laid in bed and fallen back to sleep…but "it WAS the right time" and so I got the ride I needed.

I arrived early, and decided to first go to the money exchange, which meant passing by the former resort…as I passed by I asked myself whether to get out….no…just continue…okay…I knew from previous experiences that I might at any moment meet some of the staff, passing by on their motorbike, or the Balinese woman I used to be friends with, and I just prayed; if I am supposed to meet someone, than I shall meet them….after changing money I took a van back, and again, as I was passing by the resort I asked myself if I should stop….the answer was "its not the right time", so I continued on to immigration. When I finished giving fingerprints and photo, I was ready to return to my own resort again, and crossed the main road. I decided to just stand exactly where I was, and not walk a bit to find some shade and just turned around in the direction of traffic to see if there was a van going by to take me to the terminal, 2 motorbikes passed and then a newish jeep and as I stand there I see the driver and front passenger are the owners of the other resort, and we both excitedly wave at each other, surprised at the synchronocity of it! They stopped the car, and we both happily met on the road. I entered their car and they were going in the direction I needed. We chatted at bit with small talk, filling them in on what I have been doing since I left them 4 months ago because of the rats. And then I felt a little stone in my heart towards them, and I knew "it’s the right time" and I shared my feelings and resentment with them about the $1000 that they never returned me.

The conversation was good. I felt simple, straightforward, friendly, but dissatisfied with their justifications. I knew this had nothing to do with them…this is my lesson in clearing old stuff from the past when I was too afraid of confrontation and anger and insulting that I preferred to just close down and feel like a victim and harbor resentment. The owner could easily be a lawyer….for every question or demand that I had, he had a smile and a very good defense…at a certain moment .i saw I was not going to get any refund, and there was no point in continuing the clarifying. At that moment I understood that here stands god, again, disguised as the owner, and what is he reflecting towards me for me to learn?

I thanked them both, was able to shake hands and part without the stone in my heart. I thanked god for the perfect timing…..i love it.

after i finished writing this entry, i just received an email saying that it was a mistake to go to the immigration where i was today, and now i need to take an 8 hour trip to the correct office....i see how i am not happy about it, mainly because of the additional expense. and when i thought about why this happened...i laughed and thought, all that, just so i could meet them and clean up our relationship face to face....huh...and instead of trusting that god has another perfectly timed day planned for me when i go to the correct office another day,i see that i feel "put out" instead of curious to discover what awaits me next time! i wonder how many times i have to see this, until something changes and each and everything will be perfect timing for the unfolding of my life at each moment, no matter what.

conversations at sunrise

i wake up at 5:30 to watch the sunrise over the sea. it is still dark then, some of the fishing boats are starting to return from their 4 a.m. catch. sometimes there is a little fire going where a fisherman is, as he burns the leaves and warms himself up on a chilly morning.it is always a surprise to see where the tide is each morning, and to sit down on the rocky shore and get a big panoramic view. lately i noticed what the little nursery rhyme "twinkle twinkle little star" was all about....there are always a few groups of 3 stars in a line, that are twinkling...i have never seen stars twinkle (sorry folks...) and i have no idea why some do twinkle and others in the sky don't...but it feels like we are interacting when they are twinkling. sometimes there are still lights out on the horizon of the gasoline lanterns on the boats as the fishermen search for chumi chumi fish that are attracted to the light.

slowly there begins to be a little bit of light and then the black silhouettes of the fishermen and their boats against the pre-dawn skyline is so special. another silhouette of a fisherman on shore, getting his big new bamboo fish trap that he made over the past 2 weeks, ready to be blessed on this auspicious day, and then he can place it on his boat and take it out to sea. the balinese calendar has auspicious days for everything. and the balinese do not do things, without consulting the calendar, including sexual relations (which according to lonely planet, get 10 days a month).

usually about this time i have finished journaling (just need the kinetic movement of my hand going but i am looking out at the sea the whole time). madeh, a former fisherman and still in charge of the local fishermens cooperative but now the gardener and maintenance man and wonderful person, usually comes walking up behind me with a coffee and sits down to join me watch the sunrise. i take the opportunity to ask him about the sea, the fishermen, balinese mentality, his family, ecology, the village, ceremonies...

"how do you know if today is a good day to go fishing?" "we look at the sky. if the sky is clear, it is good for fishing, if it is cloudy, then there will be waves so we don't go out."

"how do you know where to go for the fish?" "we look at the sky. if there are seagulls, we know that they are looking for fish too, so we go where they are. sometimes if a fisherman came back with alot of fish, the next day we go to where he was too. we have borders where we can fish....from that tree, over to that one is for our village....we do not go past that area, because the fisherman from the other village go to fish over there. the swallows here by the shore are just coming to dip down for some water, they do not tell you about the fish. there are some people in the village that build big houses for the swallows because they like them and then they come over to the sea sometimes."

suddenly he giggles and says "oh, did you see? the flying fish!" and i look at where his glance is and see a whole school of baby fish again in the air as the wave has gone down and left them in the air!

"is now a good season for fish?"" no. when there are big waves, we cannot go fishing and bali needs to bring fish from jakarta. the price goes up since there are not alot of fish. it is like that for the next couple of months, and then in september thru december the sea is like a lake. it is good for fishing, all the villagers come down here and go in the sea." (with their clothes on, no bathing suits, most do not know how to swim).

guests at the resort noticed that we were eating fresh tuna everyday for dinner in a variety of ways, all delicious, and wondered whether that is the only fish they catch here? " no, just the owners like the tuna (expensive). once when i just became a fisherman i was far out at sea where the tuna are. about an hour boat ride from here, and i had my fishing rod and i caught a tuna. when i tried to lift it out of the sea, i couldn't, my hands were shaking, it was so heavy and big. i looked into the sea and i saw it was a huge fish! my first tuna! and i sat in the boat holding the rod for three hours until another fishing boat came by and the fisherman dived into the water and had to lift up the fish together with me to put in the boat! it weighed 60 kilo.at that time there was a very good price for the tuna, too." what did you do with the money?" " i gave it to my wife."

"how come some men use nets, some rods, some traps?" "the traps are expensive so only if you have money can you have one (only one man has one here). you put it in the sea and wait for 2-3 days and then take it out, the little fish swim in the trap, and then the big fish go in after them, but cannot get out, like the little fish can. the nets are easy, you row out a little way, and lower the net down, and just wait an hour and then come lift it up again. the fishing rod is for going far out to sea for the tuna, and then you need money for gasoline for the motor for the hour ride each way."

"madeh, do you think the balinese notice the difference if there is garbage strewn on the sand and the forest, or if it is clean? i have a feeling that they do not think that plastic bags and aluminum foil wrappers is an eyesore...for them it is all one, no?" "no. they just do not think "why should i put this in the garbage?" they just want to be lazy and not be concerned with what happens when they finish eating or drinking or smoking.they just throw it down." "do you think they notice when i have cleaned up the forest and the beach, is it something they can see and appreciate?" "yes, but they think "why is she doing it?" they do not understand that it is healthier and that it is harmful for the sea life, and that burning it is emitting poisonous fumes and harming the roots of the trees...they just think "why is she doing that? (me, doing my daily round of collecting what they have thrown down on the way to the temple, after sitting on the beach, while driving on their motorbike, while buying something to eat at the kiosk....). i also think that since they do not swim, they do not snorkel and they haven't seen how the coral looks with the plastic bags and candy wrappers. they stand and watch me; some amused, some bewildered, some appreciative, and some, like this morning...nonchalantly dumping 2 sacks of garbage into the sea, along with the emptied plastic sack just as i have finished filling up one sack with what has been swept ashore....hmmm....is it worth it??! he continues:"maybe now things will change. the government makes announcements on television, there are cities that have cleaned up the beach and it is nice there now, and maybe eileen has come to cili emas resort in tejakula in order to help bring about the necessary change!"

by now, the orange ball of sun has risen, there is always a moment just before when the sky is light enough to see a silhouette of a distant mountain from lombok. made proudly tells me the name of it. "have you ever been there?" "no." most balinese never leave bali...some do on cruise ships as waiters...for most, it is out of the question monetarily to fly or take a boat somewhere abroad. made leaves to go to his little compound behind the resort where he lives with his wife, and 3 children. they are such gentle happy kind people. and now he goes back home to change into work clothes after having slept on the sofa as guard while the owner is away for a week.

i continue with my writing, noticing the daily parade of the chickens as they come to search around for some food, totally secure in their strut, not threatened by dogs or cats eating them or their chicks (could it be because they pray for them all the time, there is no agressiveness between the animals?!) i suddenly notice a bit of a ruble going on and see a cock releasing his hold from a rooster. she straightens out her feathers and struts off (aha, is that where the phrase "don't ruffle my feathers!" comes from?) and he lets out a loud "cock a doodle doooooo!" (and is that where the slang for the male sex organ comes from too?!)

and slowly the shore which is filled with the lovely morning sunshine glittering on the sea becomes the backdrop for the 2 women that come down with buckets on their heads each morning to collect and carry sand to a building site, to a few kids with fishing line that lasso it into the sea to try and catch a fish or two before school, to a jogger, and me doing my tai chi every morning, which is another strange phenomenon for them to observe. and then the men that gave gathered at the steps that lead down to the sea go sauntering down as the fishing boat reaches shore and all 8 help bring it ashore and see what luck they had this morning...

behind the smile

i was out on the beach this afternoon, hoola hooping with some 11 year olds that were fantastic! the tide was out, there was lots of sand, and it was perfect. along came one of mithas cousins...11 years old and taking care of her little year old sister...so cute...smiling...hanging out with me and the boys...i know her from the dance lessons and from hanging out with mitha and her family. but this time she was on her own...initiated coming over to me, and even initiated speaking some english with me...wow! and smiling smiling smiling...

after being with me and the boys for 1/2 an hour, smiling, she asked if i would like to visit her house. i had already been to the small dark empty house in the village and didn't really want to return there again. i asked if she meant here in the forest, where i usually meet her "smiling" father on the path...yes here! so i agreed...debated whether to take my camera to document it, but decided not to be too much of a tourist...and off we walked along the beach a few meters.

she made a lovely bowing gesture to indicate that now we turn in the direction of her outstretched hand, into the forest, on this little path...it made me smile, so humble, so elegant, so....and then immediately spit....(apparently this is not a contradiction of appropriate behavior here ) and as we began to walk along the narrow path into the woods she said in excellent english (out of the blue...) " i can't go to the temple for galungan ceremony. i have no money" smile...

.ahhh, now i get it....

i had been to mithas house the week before. her father had said that he is unemployed and the village temple notified all the villagers that they must pay 100,000 rupia for the galungan ceremony. silence...me, with my compassion for this poor family that is trying their best and just can't find a stable income., i decided that i would give mitha 100,000 ($12) from me so that i can participate in the ceremonies and they can just call me part of their family. i quietly put it in mithas hand before we left for my third gamelon lesson, but when her mother saw the money , she immediately began to speak in balinese to mitha ( i am learning indonesian...the balinese know it, but speak among themselves balinese...so we don't have a chance!) and the next thing i knew mitha was explaining to me that since in another 2 days is the ceremony i should pay the gamelon teacher today 50,000 rupia an hour ....

i had understood that the lessons were a favor for free for me, that is why i agreed to them. and now suddenly, money! and a lot....i could no longer look them in the eyes, and when i counted how much money i had it was exactly 300,000 rupias...the amount i had to pay him...out of respect, i paid, but felt sad and duped again....

i don't remember if i have written in a previous blog an explanation i heard from a german guest a few months ago here in bali as i tried to relate to their duping me all the time, in an objective positive way, and not that they are bad, or wrong....and she explained to me that they were always "gatherers"...they did not have to work, so there is no work ethic, all they had to do was pick the bananas, mangos, pineapples, avocados, papayas, whenever they wanted from the trees around them, and take a string and catch a fish if you wanted fish...and now...a new tree has been discovered in bali...the money tree....and all of us visitors go walking around, as if we are trees that have money hanging from us, and the balinese come, and pick it, as long as it is hanging there...and if there is none left, they just go to another tree...it is simple,,,no ulterior motive, no greediness....just being hungry for some money....

a few days ago i had a conversation with a swiss man that has lived here for 10 years and has seen all of the corruption in all of its forms...and he was actually optimistic in his view, saying, "there is great freedom in having seen and experienced it all, the good and the bad, and now i can choose how to respond knowing where it all comes from, without judging it."

and that is just how i suddenly felt as we walked through the forest, passing a cement outhouse which is where they shower, meaning there is a well where they pull up a bucket on a rope with water, and then take it behind the cement wall and pour it on themselves, or fill up a basin and wash their clothes on the cement floor....when i went another 20 meters among all the coconut and banana trees and the cow in the shed and tapioca plants, her mother was strategically waiting for "the money tree" to arrive, and pointed to "their house" and said how they don't have anything....

and i felt totally free to smile, and tell them how lovely it is, to stand here under these beautiful trees, and how lucky they are, and thank you for the visit....yes, freedom to choose to let go of saving them, and freedom of recognizing how they "use" their young children as "bait" for us wealthy tourists.....but today, no fishing for me....

it is all sacred

yesterday i again went to the temple to watch the closing dance of the wayon won ramayana tale. this is the fourth time i was watching this sacred masked dance which is usually performed once a year, and only in this village. since i was no longer caught up in the initial wonder of it all, i could begin to pay attention to all the small details and try and understand what this is all about because i know there is more than meets the eye.


on the surface there are some 30 men in costumes with holy masks with exaggerated features of bulging eyes,huge grins, sharp pointed teeth, or buck teeth, big nostrils, etc. only the prince rama and his 2 assistants have small masks with moderate facial features and a demure expression. the play is done with dancing movements with the focus on the hand and feet movements. they are all wearing cloaks which are suddenly lifted on the right side a bit at the hip, or on the left...revealing often dramatic ornamental belts or banners that hang just below their stomach on top of their white pants,


since i haven't found a balinese that can explain all the symbolism to me, i am trying to observe the effect the actors have on me, in order to figure out the intention, since each movement is perfectly timed and planned in step with the drums and gamelons that accompany it. i realized that the music actually is the story teller, also for the dancers who can barely see through the slits in the masks, and also for the crowds. even though the dancers are saying their parts inside the mask, no one can hear since they do not use a microphone and also because the jam packed audience is talking and laughing non stop with praying and chanting going on at the same time since it is in the courtyard of the temple.


what could this "lifting of the cloak" each time mean? like "da da!!" and then it all begin to fall into place....the cloak for rama was also lifted by him, but barely, and only once or twice revealing his inner belt which was gold with a triangle pointing upwards and another one downwards. it must be the "showing of emotions" ....that the ideal is to behave with complete control and show a buddha smile on the outside, and the gold belt reflecting healthy sexuality which effects the person in the upper torso as well as the lower. and that all these monstrous masked dancers were all different parts of us, our desires that need to be in moderation instead of impulsive and with outbursts or egocentricity.






and the tale always ends the same, with the priest sitting down in the middle of the dancers performing a sacred blessing over the evil, since it too is part of us, after which a battle between the good and evil ensues with the good the hero. the battle at the end is always the liveliest part of it all as the kids in typical balinese style, began to chant out the good guys' name, but they do it in such a way that it's like they are answering each other; first the right side says it, and then the left part of the temple repeats the name....this underlying interaction all of the time, whether in chanting out the heros name, or sieving sand, or carrying something, or the fishermen going out to sea...always at least 2 people working together, chanting together, drums answering each other, priests doing the ceremony together, collecting donations for the temple together....

after the play ended everyone left. the lead drummer/gamelon player/conductor invited me to follow him home so he could change into another outfit for the next event at the temple which was 1/2 hour later. it was a chance for him to show off a bit that he knows a foreign woman, i think. we returned again to the temple, and he motioned that i sit down again on the ground. i realized that it is time for the next prayer ritual. i had hoped to see another dance by some men that wear a black sarong, but no one could say when that would happen. meanwhile the orchestra was getting things organized and i saw 4 men walk behind one of the altars and two returned with tall poles with decorative white umbrellas....i thought that maybe they were arranging new ones around the temple in honor of the occasion, but suddenly understood that in fact they were just accompanying the other 2 men who were carrying a huge gong a distance of 3 meters from one place to another and is held in reverence by the symbolic umbrella making sure that it is not hot in the sun or wet from the rain (and it is night time and not monsoon....it is the intention) ....and then suddenly i understood another inexplicable riddle i have had...


everything is sacred, everything is under the roof of hinduism, everything is in service to god, there is no actor, no dancer, no chanter,no priest, no drummer,or gamelon player, that is doing this for his own egoistic desire. when i was sitting next to gede at the performance, he suddenly disappeared. since there is not a toilet at the temple, he didn't go there...so where is he, and then a little while later he returned and sat down and took the big drum and began to lead the orchestra. it was then that i noticed the few grains of rice on his third eye. i realized he had gone to pray and be blessed before beginning to play. his playing was amazing. and when it was over i quietly applauded him and told him how great it was, without responding he turned around and faced the direction of the altar and said a prayer. now i understood that he was used as a vehicle to play the music for this sacred play, that is all. no one applauds, not the dancers, or musicians, it is all anonymous. there is no recognition made, no stars, no bowing, no encores....


the courtyard continued to fill up again and gede began to play the gamelon, hitting the first notes which are the signal to the other 20 some musicians to join in now.(they do not have written music, it is all done by demonstrating and memorizing). this was also the first time that i could just sit there and again, get in touch with what the music was doing in my body, not only listening to it. but trying to figure out if there is any rhyme or reason to the non stop melodies. as i watched gede i saw that he was watching the priests, just like he had been watching the dancers in the play, and that now the music was telling the story of the prayer ceremony! it was no longer random comings and goings of the priest, but stage after stage of a combination of actions and intensive music that was changing the cell structure in my body. it reminded me of when i did vipassana silent meditation for 10 days 10 hours a day. there was one day when the instructions were (at least how i interpreted them) as if a sword is going in and out of your body every millimeter, breaking down all the stored up patterns, memories, pains, that can then be dissolved instead of being like blocks stuck in my body.


as the priest began the ceremony the music was pf fast disharmonic notes, as if a shaking up of everything that is not in balance inside of me. as they began to sprinkle the water on all the offerings in all directions in order to sanctify, the music was then a very repetitive soothing tune that i especially like, and after a few moments of silence, when the priests all rose and began to sprinkle the water on each person the music sounded like something from heaven, showering down again and again. it was then that i realized that i have been asking everyone i meet if they know anyone who can teach me temple songs on the gamelon. i don't really ever get a response. even the man that is teaching me, nods his head, but teaches me some music for a dance, not for temple. and i realized that no one is going to teach me temple songs, outside of the temple....it is only used for the ceremony, it is sacred music. the fact that i like it and want to learn how to play it does not mean that someone who knows it can teach it to me. this is music that is played, only when wearing temple clothing after having prayed and been blessed, inside a temple for a ceremony.


the biggest surprise happened after that. suddenly the hundreds of people sitting on the grass did a 180 degree turnabout all at once and were suddenly facing the opposite direction and had quickly moved to the sides so that a pathway was formed as an aisle for the priests to walk down towards another entrance in the courtyard and perform there another ceremony. i couldn't figure out how everyone did that all at once, as if they had practiced it for weeks. as we sat their in silence i began to hear giggles and noticed that one of the male dancers with the black sarongs and the wooden swords in their belt had stood up and was making provocative humoristic movements towards the other end of the crowd where another male dancer suddenly rose from the seated devotees. he began to "reply" with his own provocative actions and they slowly approached each other, using controlled martial arts movements, together with humoristic caricatures. this went on for a few minutes at which point it escalated into a mock fight with a winner and a loser. they returned to their seat on the grass. and the priests continued praying and a few minutes later, another dancer rose and began with another as if impromptu humorous interaction with his partner from the other end of the courtyard, there was laughter. after about 6 couples everyone suddenly again did a 180 degree turnabout and the ceremony ended with om shanti shanti shanti om and off they all went.


i laughed how in the end, i unexpectedly got to witness this dance that by chance happened at this moment, and not the night before when i had purposely gone to see it. it is something that just "happens" and no one can tell you when or how or why. i asked several people what it was all about. they said they don't really know, but they like it....one told me it is a pun about warriors. it is unique to tejakula (ah, they love being unique in everything) and that it shows how you must be a warrior in all walks of life. "do you mean towards all of the enemies within myself" i asked. "also those within and also those without. learn to be a good warrior".


i found it interesting that it is a bit like the court jester. together with that, humor is a big part of their approach to everything, including religion.