the dark moon

There was a procession of worshippers passing by the shoulder high stone wall of the resort yesterday. They were on their way to the temple to give their offerings…the women with baskets filled to 40 centimeters high with fruits and rice and baked goods and flowers, and coconut leaf cut decorations symbolizing the dark moon. It is an opportunity for them to combine another ceremony that they want to do, since it is an auspicious time.

All day there was taped music and singing of praise and blessings coming from the nearby temple. My usual banana cup leaf offerings were substituted with star or flower shaped coconut leaf cups with only white and yellow flowers for the dark moon. Made' had suggested that "white and yellow are appropriate". She would never tell me I should or have to…just giving a bit of guidance.

Since I had woken up at 5 in the morning yesterday, I thought I would already go out and sit by the sea, where I watch the sunrise, and I can see the thin crescent shaped moon before the dark moon that would follow today. It was very special seeing the moon out over the sea, at 5 in the morning with the sky full of so many stars, since there aren't any lights to affect the view. There was a festive feeling in the air because of the dark moon ceremonies. Jochan complained at breakfast that the he doesn't understand why they need microphones amplifying it all at 5 in the morning and for the rest of the day. I thought about it and realized that it invites everyone to "feel" the celebration, even if they themselves are at home cleaning or cooking…and that everyones intentions are being united and the air is different! Just like in Israel before Shabbat, or on Shabbat how you can feel the magic in the air.

Since I was already tossing and turning at 5 again this morning I decided it was an invitation to go see what a dark moon rise looks like over the sea. What a treat….a huge sky filled with tons of stars, and I could barely make out the horizon at sea, and then the slightest little line of light appeared there, which soon became the last sliver of the moon before it begins its new moon phase. It slowly rose while silhouettes of women with tall offerings on their heads, holding babies in their arms followed by a man with a flashlight, or two men carrying the roasted pig for the ceremony walked along the shore as the waves gently broke.

Suddenly I realized that there is a whole other network going on here in bali, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, of devotion that kind of envelopes everyone and everything and gives a very interesting feeling of security, of being part of something greater than just day to day living and work. A constant connection with nature, in nature. And looking out at the arrangements of the stars gave a sensation that we are all in a very exact juxtaposition, like the steady beating of a heart.

a small gesture of intention

I remember about 20 some years ago, I was asked by a relative to please "keep him in your prayers" when her brother was dying of cancer. The request surprised me, since, I didn't pray for anyone or anything in any organized way. And it opened up a window on a new option; to make up my own prayers. And so I began to make up prayers, discover prayers, find prayers, and it became a meaningful morning ritual for me….just my own prayers to my own definition of a "higher power" that felt very intimate and satisfying.

Over the years it has taken on many different shapes and forms, and seems to change along with me, letting go of what no longer is true for me and discovering what my real desire is now. It changed again when I came to Bali this time. I had brought my laptop, and was used to typing out my prayers as I experienced them….a kind of embedding them into some physical form, albeit a computer screen, but it was more the touch of my fingertips of both hands blindly typing as fast as my mind was saying them. But when I would go out before sunrise on the shore with my laptop and sit there looking out into the darkness and typing away, the light from the computer was so "out of place" among the fishermen that were going out to sea, or the women walking to market, that I quickly switched over to using a pen and notebook.

Having discovered the joy of minimal possessions, and not wanting to "waste" pens and paper, I decided to just write on the same page over and over, since I don't read it or do anything with it anyways after I have finished writing, needing the physical action as a kind of tool to keep me focused. And so that is how it has gone until now, along with the pen, that has long forgotten that it once held ink in it, so the pages are even empty! But I love the process of allowing all the prayers to roll out of my mind, out into the world. About the same time that I started with the prayers, I decided to say them before my meals, and when waking and going to sleep, and slowly built up my own rituals that give meaning and a framework to my day and help me feel connected to something greater.

Here in Bali, the praying at the temple ceremonies suited me too, since i could just pray my own prayers and knew we were all experiencing the same intention, just in different languages. The casualness of it all, with people praying together, but each at his own "time" without a prayer book, sitting on the ground with flowers, water and incense as the artifacts used to arouse the intention , was simple and inspiring. I began to notice that if there weren't ceremonies, I felt a longing for that physical connection. Watching the auntie come each day at dusk to put her offerings in several places in the resort, became a special time for me, and I would stop whatever it was I was doing (earphones and the internet usually) and would just "participate" with her with my intention and was grateful that she was "taking care of our well being, by praising god " for our sake.

Then the last full moon offerings made by the locals in the temple next door, filled the night air with the sweet incense and I thought how wonderful it all is and why not be a part of it too? So I asked nyoman, what it is all about, what it entails, when you do it, how you do it, why you do it, who does it? She explained it as a simple gesture of gratitude for all the abundance we receive daily from Nature, God and that it is done in the morning before eating, and again at dusk with flowers and incense and that anyone can do it, and as many people as want to can do it. I realized that since I am living here, and full of gratitude every moment, why not put it into a physical form too and see how it feels.

I was a little hesitant whether or not I would know how to do it and preferred that someone walk me through it one time; making the little offerings of banana leaf and a bit of bread, or making the little banana leaf cup to put the fresh flowers and incense in, and sprinkling with water with a flower….but I dared to start alone. I was amazed to see that each time I did it, I would "hear a little voice" pointing out that "maybe it would be nicer with tongs on your feet….that you remove before placing the offering….just a small gesture of …intention…." And then I would wear tongs the next day, but forget to take them off before each of the 7 places I placed offerings, or I would take them off and forget to put them back on. Or I would be bending over to put an offering on the ground before the entrance, and suddenly I would remember how I would always see the women bending down low, and not bending over, as they placed the offering…".just a small gesture of ….intention…". Another time I realized that my personal prayers that I was saying along with the offerings I placed at each place, were actually "requests" on my behalf….not offerings of gratitude! I hadn't realized that, that it is called an offering, since I am offering it to god, and not an opportunity "to get" something….hmmm….so that had to change too. What was my intention in all of this?

I also remembered how so many times I would be walking somewhere in bali, and suddenly discover that I was standing ON an offering that had just been placed on the ground! I always thought I would just die of embarrassment from my lack of sensitivity or awareness, but when I would profusely apologize and take my foot out of the middle of the flowers and incense, no one really cared. It was then that I realized that all of these offerings have everything and nothing to do with "material". Everything, because you decide what to offer and prepare it and offer it, but it ends there. And it has nothing to do with material, since the moment you have offered it, its purpose has been realized, the intention. A second later it is just some flowers and incense on the ground or on the dashboard of the car, or being blown by the wind, or eaten by some chickens or a dog….no one is waiting for elijahu to really drink the cup of wine, or come through the door….it is the intention.

The girls in the kitchen would prepare the little tray with the 7 little banana leaves the size of a match box, with the piece of bread on it. The first time I placed it down, I noticed that it was a leaf, but with a tiny narrow leaf on top of the leaf, and only on that was the piece of bread resting. Hmmm….i like that…an extra gesture…of intention…. But a few days later when I went to place the offerings down, I found the bread resting only on the one leaf, which was also twice the size of a matchbox, and it felt naked and a kind of "do what needs to be done" approach. The little added touch was missing….of intention. I commented to the girls that I liked it when there were 2 leaves and if they can do it that way always, and keep it small. It turned out that it was a young new girl that had prepared them that day, apparently not having been raised with the awareness of the meaning of the small details of the physical expression of intention.

Later in the day, nyoman mentioned to me that if I am preparing the offerings, that I should make the banana cups bigger. "otherwise it looks like you are "playing", and not for real." Whoa! That was interesting…and I realized that this is how she is, full of abundance, and devotion and that my "thrifty" ("don’t waste big banana leaves….you can manage with a small one from the tree.") banana cups were reflecting my scarcity consciousness while in fact I am thanking God for all the abundance I feel! So if there is so much abundance, why am I making little cups with just a few flowers, instead of making cups that overflow with the abundance of nature? What is my intention?

And then, nyoman worked morning shift instead of her usual afternoon and evening shift. So she prepared the tray for me to take for the offerings this morning. And to my surprise, when I went to the kitchen to take it, there were 7 little delicate banana leaves with the small pieces of bread and on top of each one was a tiny piece of mango, giving it all such a festive look! I smiled, touched by this small gesture of hers, that so beautifully showed what her intention was….to glorify, to praise, to embellish, to acknowledge, to offer thanks….in such a lovely simple personal attentive way. It was the first time I understood Judaism, and why for example someone will buy an etrog that is especially beautiful, instead of just an etrog….

Knowing that the following day the Dark Moon celebration would be going on, I asked if something is different in the offerings I make? She said yes…they can be made from the young coconut leaves instead of banana leaves. If I go to the market in the morning I can buy them there for a penny. So I woke up at 5 a.m., went out to journal at the sea, and was happy to see the rising moon which was the last sliver of the moon before the "dark moon" (new moon). Suddenly I understood why they call it the dark moon, since that is what I usually see….a big round circle of a moon that is dark! I realized that their focus is on the whole moon, whereas in Judaism it is on the lit part of the moon….interesting. Then as I walked through the coconut grove with the rising sun to the market to look for the coconut leaves, I wondered if this too is a gesture of glorifying, since the coconut trees are the tallest trees and the new young yellow leaves are chosen. And it all made sense why suddenly yesterday afternoon I saw the coconut man again with his tall bamboo ladder climbing up the tree that he had just picked the coconuts from a few days ago…why is he here again?! Aha…in order to cut the young new leaves for the women to buy in the market for the dark moon offerings. And I smiled how they have decided on a hierarchy of nature that reflects the cycle of the moon, in order to glorify their personal gesture of intention as they express their gratitude.

gentle souls

A few years ago the four villages around some waterfalls decided to start a cooperative in order to insure the education of their children, since many of them did not have enough money to pay beyond the government funded elementary school. So, utilizing their unique area where many spices grow, and the beautiful waterfalls, the men became guides and the women "manned" (?!) souvenir shops. So, when I walked out of the car, a 30 year old man speaking excellent English approached me, with the typical Balinese "special" dress of headband and sarong and a shirt saying he was a tour guide. He asked where I am from. I told him "Israel", and half expected the usual confused clarification; "Venezuela?" "No, Israel", "Switzerland?" and then I just give in and say "America", and they are happy. Things are clear. But he surprised me….he too hesitated a moment, and then he gestured with his thumb and forefinger: "Ah, Israel; very small, but…" and then made a big fist with his hand and forearm "…very strong!". And smiled. He had won me over! "How do you know about Israel?" "from the television and also there are books in bali about it." He explained that the guides ask $6 for explaining about the floral and the area and that the money is for their children's schooling. How can you refuse?

He took us down a winding path that began with a souvenir shop and pointed out all the spices that grow in their area: cinnamon, coffee, cocoa, nutmeg, ginger, vanilla, tea, cardamom, and more. At the first shop it was interesting….but what followed were another 30 shops, all with the same products that are sold all over bali. Kind of like what happens at airports and major cities and malls all over the world, all having the exact same shops. so most of the way down to the waterfall was spent politely smiling and not answering the sales pitches of all the women who were busy crocheting large white tablecloths in addition to the standard coconut, wooden, and painted souvenirs. It became more "human" on our way back up when I suddenly felt a need to ask him if his wife also works. He said yes, and pointed to the woman that was standing in the souvenir shop opposite us at that moment! (synchronicity…) and then he explained that the women just work in the shops, and all the profits also go for the childrens communal education fund.

He was very charismatic and I enjoyed asking him all about his life and his parents life and how he got this job. He himself only finished elementary school! But picked up English from the tourists and hopes to save up enough money so that one day he can pay the owner of a hotel some $500 in order to be hired to work there….that's the way it works here. Since there are so many people that want the job, you have to pay them to hire you! His mother takes care of the children while he and his wife work.

He explained the fundamentals of Balinese Hinduism in such a simple yet deep way, as most of them do when asked. "our heart has 2 sides to it; a good and a bad. When I meet you, I feel both sides. I see the side that hates you. I can pray to rise beyond the hatred and then there is room for the good to enter. When we wake up in the morning, we take a moment to thank god and go to work. The women put an offering in the family temple and in front of the house and by the source of our water, and by the fire for cooking, with a little bit of food to say thank you. At lunch time we say thank you again before we eat, and at dusk, the women place an offering made from a banana leaf cup holding flowers and incense. The incense is the element of fire, which attracts God to us. Just like we cannot see the wind, but we can see the trees moving in the wind, and we cannot see the smell of the flowers that we are offering, but we can smell them, so we cannot see god but we can feel Him, so we use the nature to connect with God, and water is sprinkled on the flowers while thanking god for all of the abundance that we receive from nature every day. It is an expression of the 4 elements."

I often meet this kind of gentle, soft spoken side of the Balinese men. The day before I had been trying to pick some banana leaves in order to make little offering cups and I made such a mess out of it, with tearing and strands hanging and unable to cut it and I was sure there must be an easier way. Made' had just cut off a frayed leaf and I asked if he could show me how to cut it without getting all complicated. He took his scythe and with the most delicate movement he made a small cut and smoothly moved it along the backbone of the leaf. Then he made another small cut and easily lifted the leaf up and it split into a nice straight shape for making cups. It was all done in a minimum amount of movements, and each movement was done in a flow. Then in the quietest voice he explained that this is the way I can do it. I was in shock! Again, the bull in the china shop! I thanked him, and wondered what happens to these gentle souls when they meet us westerners that are so "up front" with everything and are not living and breathing the nature all day and learning its ways.

In the morning I had been watching the sunrise and saw a bow legged figure shying towards the fishing boats on shore, but making his way in my direction, and I knew it must be Arie, the wood carver that had wanted to practice English with me before he goes to work at 6:30. I was happy to see him and we began to speak. He told me that his new carving work was in one of the temples now. I wanted to know which one, so I could come watch. He hesitated. I asked him why he doesn't tell me which one it is? "I am shy. You come. And then you speak with me there. And all the other men will laugh at me. I am shy." I had to promise him that if I come, I will pretend that I don't even know him, and that I am just passing by and want to watch them carving, and I won't speak with him at all. So in my "up front" manner I started to ask him where exactly the temple is. To make sure I understood correctly I used my thigh slapping my hand down for "here is the main road, and here is the lion statue…" I quickly realized I needed a more "neutral" base since he would not have touched my skirt to explain, and I took my notebook and again began an exaggerated imaginary drawing on it and placing a large stone to figure out where exactly it is. He waited until I was done, and then he took a moment or two to look around him at the stony shore we were sitting on and he found a little pebble, a thin straight twig, and gently placed them on the notebook, and slowly pointed out with the aid of the pebble and twig where the temple was. Always something humble and simple about them.

I had also been watching some workmen making a stone mosaic entranceway. I love watching craftsmen at work, so I decided to stand there and see how they do it and which one is the artist. What I found instead was that all three men were making the mural. One was placing the white stones, one the orange, and one the black. They worked quietly together, speaking in low voices with minimum amount of words about how to continue the picture, as they worked alongside each other on the same little part. It amazes me to see this communal approach to everything. The mural could have easily been done by one person having 3 different colors of stones that he places wherever he wants. But instead, there is a togetherness, a joint effort, it is never someone being singled out.

While walking home from the market, I saw two basketfuls of mangos that had been picked and were waiting to be sold. They looked so lovely with the bamboo handle connecting them, that I stopped to photograph it. Just then a man came to his motorbike to lift up the 60 kilos worth onto it and drive them to market. When he saw me standing there photographing them, he immediately took 3 out of the basket and handed them to me, smiling. Surprised but grateful, I thanked him, and he too, shyly kept his big smile and glance to the side as I tried to photograph him driving off. Other than my thank you, no words were spoken.

Earlier I had stopped by one of the little shops to try and find a kilo of rice to bring for the wedding present. Not finding it, bought a paintbrush instead. Some of the villagers were sitting by the shop entrance and giggled as I spoke in my broken Indonesian and we all laughed and I said "terimikasi" (goodbye) and they mimicked me, and I remembered that gede' had just taught me the more polite form of saying goodbye, so as I picked up my two big bags filled with big bamboo boxes I had bought, I loudly called back to them: "suksumah!" happy that I remembered how to say it and had an opportunity to impress them with my "polite" Balinese! They all laughed again, and the old woman owner humbly placed her hands together at her chest, bowed her head, and said quietly,"suksumah". And then I realized that it wasn't enough to know the word, it was the attitude and the intention of respect and honor that were being expressed. Aware of my boorishness, I placed the bags back on the ground, and copied her quiet humble "suksumah" blessing and they smiled with approval for my effort. These interactions with them are very touching for me, revealing a more delicate layer to life that I am usually not in touch with.

happy independence day - 66 years

After 450 years of the Dutch colonization of bail, it received its independence in 1945, and celebrates it every 17^th of august. The traditional ceremony is at civil service buildings and schools, with all the school children participating at the flag raising ceremony. Mitha had told me that the junior high and high school students would be gathering at 7a.m. in the big soccer field for the ceremony. So when i heard lovely a loud speaker with womens voices singing at 6:30 I suddenly remembered what she said and didn't want to miss a chance of seeing all the kids singing together, so I began to quickly walk the 30 minute path to get there on time. I assumed that what I was hearing was a rehearsal before the actual ceremony began. As I passed the halfway point, nyomans' father and mother passed me on their motorbike and yelled "kmana Eileen?" ahh….i am now on lesson 28 of my Indonesian course and I finally learnt what "kamana" means….guess….what do all the Indonesians ask someone that they seeing walking ? yep…."where are you going?" I am so silly. I couldn't believe I hadn't figured that one out….and that only if someone asks me it in english, do I recognize that it is THE standard question, just like we would pass someone and say "good morning" or "how are you?" and just continue walking…they don't ever really wait for a response…at least not from me…they just ask and continue on. And EVERYONE asks me…people I have never seen before, outside their shops, people sitting on the corner of the street watching traffic, people that pass me, people that are walking with their groceries, kids on bikes, old, young, everyone wants to know "where are you going?" so, nyomans father also asked me as he drove by on his motorbike. The funny thing is that even if I knew what it meant, I have no idea how to tell people where I am actually going….since I haven't learnt the words yet. But he surprised me, and as I turned to go on the main road, he was suddenly at my side with his motorbike, telling me to hop on so he could take me wherever it was I was walking to. I knew how to say "there" and pointed and hoped he would just go along with my sign language, which he did. And within minutes he had dropped me off just in time for the start of the ceremony. What a nice gift from god that was.

So, I was happy to "be on time", which is always important for me since I don't want to "miss anything" ever. I walked through the big entrance to the soccer field, and was surprised to see many adults in beige uniforms, and groups of kids in their burgundy and white uniforms, scattered here and there….so much for 7 a.m. and I also realized that what I had heard was not the kids singing, but just some music being piped in to give a holiday atmosphere. The next thing I realized was that, I was the only guest. There were no parents there. Just some 1000 students and some 300 teachers. I had assumed the parents were invited to see the ceremony of their kids, but I was mistaken. Not quite sure where to put myself, I started to stand on the side where the teachers were, and within a minute one of the women from the gamelon band had spotted me and was saying hello. I was surprised to see her dressed like a soldier, and realized that she must be a teacher and that they wear uniforms too to school, and not just the kids.

Again, I was the subject of everyones glance, since everyone else was Balinese and in uniform and had a reason to be there. But I decided that I would stay in spite of the extraordinary circumstances…and so I began to wait, and wait and wait for it to begin. Everyone was beginning to line up in rows, in order to do a kind of military exercise routine, so after having joined the woman I knew and telling her in my best Indonesian" I am here", meaning, I'll just hang around with you, she smiled, and pantomimed if I want a hat too, since they were also wearing hats, and then I realized that I can't really walk with them all in their uniforms across the field as if I am blending in! so I went over to the side and sat down and just watched them all.

My first impression was surprise to see that most of the teachers were men! So I would say there were 200 men and another 100 women teachers. Next impression was seeing how physical the kids are with each other, always having their arms around each others shoulders or holding hands, and I realized that the adults do the same, standing next to each other, or walking somewhere, men with men, women with women. Next it was fun noticing how a few of the high school boys can show a bit of their rebelliousness by wearing their tie knotted sloppily and not close to their neck.

Realizing that I would soon have to leave for my planned trip to the west at 9 am. I decided to go and stand by the entrance so I could leave without being the center of attraction in the middle of the ceremony. When I stood there, a few things happened. The first, was that the guard knew English and we had a really nice conversation. It always surprises me to hear their vocabulary that is filled with long eloquent business like words that I don't even use, and they think they don't know English very well! Then another guard switched him, and also spoke excellent English and was explaining to me about independence day. The most important thing was that when they raise the flag, I must salute. It was only then that I realized that that was the main thing that was going to happen, and that in the middle of the field there was a big flagpole. Meanwhile all of the politicians and board of education were giving long speeches. The next thing I noticed was that there was another tall pole, but this one had a kind of carousel on top and there were some 13 "things" hanging from it. I tried to figure out what in the world that was for? Pairs of flip flops, a pot, a Frisbee, a schoolbag, a red t-shirt, a CD…and I assumed that the kids would have a contest of trying to climb the pole and you take a prize. Suddenly there was a boom, and I realized that they were shooting fireworks…in the morning! And so always one to love fireworks, I enjoyed them now too, even though it made me laugh that the little bit of twinkle that appeared in the daylight, was a poor alternative for what the kids could have been able to enjoy if it was night time!

Next, a bunch of helium balloon fish tied together on a string was set loose into the sky. What it symbolized, the guard did not know. I took this as my cue to leave, before I would have to stand there saluting for longer than I had time to spare. I was sorry that I couldn't see them climbing the pole with the prizes, but had enjoyed the glimpse into more of Balinese life, and quickly returned to my resort to join some Australian guests that were traveling 3 hours west, and had agreed that I could come for the ride.

We were hesitant about traveling on the "17^th" since we were told that all the school children march on the roads in every village for 7 kilometers. So we thought there would be lots of waiting in traffic, but that we would at least get to see how the Balinese celebrate. To our surprise, the streets were empty, and all of the marching had been done for the past week on the roads. What we did see were lots of red and white flags decorating civil service buildings and some houses. And the most fun was taking the 3 hours drive west and seeing how in each city the big soccer field was filled with students and teachers in various stages of the ceremony. So I was able to watch several versions of the pole climbing contest! What surprised me was that in typical Balinese style, it had nothing to do with being a winner, but rather teamwork. A bunch of students would make a circle around the pole, holding each other firmly, and then another bunch of kids would climb onto their shoulders making another ring of teamwork so that a third group of kids could climb on their shoulders enabling the most nimble student to climb on top of them all and if he reached the top where the carousel of prizes were, and if he could reach from the pole, out to the ring of hanging prizes, he would grab as many as he could, for everyone! If he started to slip, so another fellow student would switch him, climbing monkey style up to the top. At one place that we stopped at on the way back, there were 2 poles, and the adults were climbing the higher one, without all the bottom rings of support by fellow villagers….possibly they were actually coconut pickers and good at this, but maybe just in good shape. After all the prizes had been removed, the last fellow that climbed up the pole went beyond the carousel ring and only then did I notice a flag at the top of the pole, which was the grand achievement, since it was even that much higher, and when he succeeded at that, he had a good time standing on the top, waving it jokingly around. As he shimmied down with it, he kept waving it to everyones enjoyment…they like to have fun. What was interesting to note was that the poorer villages had hung up very practical prizes, like a colander, pot, flip flops, back pack, and the wealthy city folk had hung up DVD's and CD's.

my driver gede,is a very special man. he speaks excellent English and is always willing to answer all of my questions about Balinese life. When he came to pick us up he was wearing a lovely flower print shirt. When he introduced himself to the guests he touched his heart after shaking hands with them. It is those small humble gestures that are almost unnoticed, but so meaningful. I took this 3 hour ride back to the resort as an opportunity to understand more about what makes them tick. First of all, when I asked him if he worries about finances, he laughed. "I never worry. If I do not have money today, then maybe it will come tomorrow. If I am healthy then I will always have enough money, because I will always be able to work at something." He is the oldest of 4 sons and is responsible for supporting his parents for the rest of their lives, even though they will live with the youngest son. It is also expected that he will support any of his brothers and sisters that do not have enough money for their necessities, like schooling. "But if they are smoking cigarettes or drinking beer than I will not give them money for that." When I asked him why all the Balinese that own cars, like him, buy vans instead of small cars which would be less expensive and more economical. " We need at least 6 places in our car; 2 for our parents and at least 2 children, so we buy big cars. We also need it for going on picnics. We always invite our parents to come with us on picnics. We would not think of just getting in our car and going somewhere. It is not respectful." I laughed and asked him how often he really goes on picnics! And he said that even going to the capitol is a picnic. Or visiting family. And then I realized that this is the word they use for leisure time.

As we passed by a town he pointed out that a new airport would be built there. I was surprised and asked him if he thinks it is a good idea. "I do not know the future. For everything there is a good side and a bad side. The good side will be that visitors can arrive to the north of bali. And there will be many jobs for people here. The bad side is that the roads are narrow and busy already and they will be busier. And naturally more buildings will be built and why will visitors come here to visit bali, if bali is full of more buildings?" he says everything with a smile and a very quiet kind voice. I told him that at the ceremony in the morning I noticed that most of the teachers were men, and that in the rest of the world, they are mainly women. And why is that so here in bali? "it is most important for everyone to have a son. He is the one that will take care of the parents when they are older. If you only have a small amount of money, you will send your son to school, and not your daughter. So that is why most of the teachers are men. They were the ones that got to go to school, and the girls did not. But nowadays things are changing and women also study." (that was not the response I was expecting!) I asked him if people are disappointed when they realize they have a girl and not a boy? " if the first child is a girl, everyone is happy, because she will be able to help the mother in the house. If the second child is not a boy, they still know they have another chance, so they are not sad. If the third child is another girl, they are very sad." What happens if someone doesn't have a boy after the third child? "there is a temple that they can go to and pray that is not far from where we just were. That is the temple of pregnancy. Everyone that goes there, has a boy afterwards. And couples that did not have children, will have children. " At another point in the conversation I asked him if he thinks that bali is becoming like the western world? " no, we are not individuals, like in the west. We are communities. The religion is very strong and it holds the people in this framework. Maybe down south it looks like the Balinese are now like the westerners, but that is only on the outside. On the inside, they are very strongly connected to their family and village. That is the most important thing in our lives. We must take care of each other and have a proper cremation for our parents. That is our duty."

Even though I was just coming along for the ride as he dropped off the guests at their next resort, he wanted me to have a good time, so he suggested a few highlights along the way. One was driving me through a nature reserve. As we went down a narrow road, a car was coming towards us and as the drivers passed each other they smiled and touched hands. I asked him if he knew the man, or was just being friendly. He said it was his cousin. His cousin?! When was the last time he saw him? 7 months ago. I was confused….you just happened to bump into your cousin who lives hours away from here and that you rarely see, and all you did was smile at each other and touch hands as you passed? "yes, I am your driver now, and he also had someone in the car he was driving. It would not be polite for us to stop now, so smiling was enough."

Another stop along the way was in the former capitol of bali, singaraja. The government had set up an exhibition in honor of the independence celebration, of everything it is doing that is "green". It looked pretty boring to me, going into little makeshift booths to see governmental publicity, but out of politeness I went with him. And the surprising thing for me was, it was so interesting! I let him lead the way, and each time we stood in front of the next entrance, and it looked totally boring and he would translate the title for me: the water works of bali, the fish nurseries of bali, the rotary club of bali, the department of agriculture, the animals of bali, the police force of bali, the explanations of how everything is working. I even found out where all the garbage is being recycled, and made into compost, and that they vote by going behind a little piece of sheet metal and there is a string with a nail on the end and a sponge, and the citizen looks at the pictures of the candidates on the ballot, and the name and presses the nail through the picture of the person he is voting for (I guess not everyone can read or write….) and I saw many fruits and products of bali, and saw lots of graphs showing how top priority is making bali clean and green! So that was a nice and interesting side trip. And actually the most important part of it all was learning the word "suksumah" which means "thank you" but is used for the highest caste. "when we meet each other we tell each other our names, and what caste we are. So in Balinese we have 4 different languages, according to who you are speaking with. In the past it was very important, but nowadays we are all mainly of the lowest caste, the sudras, so we can speak the same to each other. " but as I exited each stall, gede would kindly point out that they would appreciate it if I would sign the guest book, and write my impression. And then he would say "suksumah" and give a little bow to the government employee that was sitting there on his shift. The whole area looked like a fairground after the fair had closed….tons of garbage all over, no one around except the vendors who were lying down asleep on the ground. He explained to me that if we would be here at night it is very busy and crowded, so we are lucky we came in the middle of the day.

I tried to give him a tip at the end of the ride, for his extra side trips, but he said he had already been paid, and no thank you. He had been on the road since 7 in the morning, and would return home 9 hours later, and was paid $50 including the gas. His priority was that we enjoy our trip with him. He stopped while the guests took money out of an ATM machine, and meanwhile he bought some fruit that is unique to bali, for us to try. When I asked him if he would ever want to go abroad, he said "yes, to Holland! I am very curious to see what the country that ruled us for 450 years, looks like!" Happy Independence Day!