the marketplace here opens from 4-7 daily, 7 days a week. that means 4-7 A.M.! since i have quite a long morning ritual that includes, journaling, tai chi, qi gong, tibetan exercises, and watching the sunrise at 6, i couldn't quite figure out how i could do the 1/2 hour walk to the market at those hours. but my desire to really get to know the balinese lifestyle and also my need for some fresh fruits and vegetables, which can only be bought there and then, swayed me to decide that i would try it.
luckily my body is used to getting up naturally at that hour, and instead of turning over on the other side and sleeping again, since i don't wake up to study kabbalah anymore, i got out of bed, got dressed, and walked in the pitch dark to the market. it is actually quite nice. the first road i walk along is a narrow winding path from my house through the forest, but because there is a resort near by, every now and then there is a small street light, so i don't need to use up my flashlight. once i hit the main road, which is "THE MAIN ROAD" for the north of bali, going from east to west, two narrow lanes that pass by little shops, houses and forests. there are no light posts or sidewalks, so people walk along the side of the road. i remember driving in the cab from the airport to the north and being surprised again and again to suddenly see someone walking in the dark, no reflector strips on them or anything, and i asked my driver if it isn't dangerous, suddenly to find someone walking on the road in the middle of the night, and he said no...they are aware and careful. and that really is the feeling i have as i walk, that it is part of their driving culture to pay attention and give the right of way to the pedestrians.
so, by 4:30 i am on the main road with just a few odd motorbikes or trucks that pass me by. i am happy to be walking at a fast pace and getting my exercise with an added value to it; the need to buy my food....and not just for the sake of exercising, because i probably would give it up quickly or at least not walk quickly. but since i want to get back before sun rise, and still be able to slowly take in all of the sights, i walk briskly until something catches my eye. this morning it was the little breakfast kiosks that vary in size but are about 1 by 2 meters.
i decided i would stop and peek into these dimly lite "warongs" to see what people were sipping or eating or cooking or frying...the first one had a choice of 6 soup bowls that had all kinds of unidentifiable fried foods. i smiled, and went on my way, hoping to find something a bit more recognizable. the next one some 200 meters further had about 3 truck drivers sitting there, laughing as i walked by, so i decided to pass that one up. the third one, another 200 meters away, had the same open front like the other ones, (no doors or windows, just when it is open the corrugated metal front is folded to the side, and when it is closed, it is closed. no showcase window or anything.) an old narrow wooden bench invited the customers to sit down to eat there, or else have carry out in the banana leaf wrapped up in a triangle from brown paper, stapled at the top, in place of the little bamboo "pin" that used to close them
in the good 'ol days. an old man sat there drinking a glass of coffee and as i passed he invited me to drink a coffee too. i answered in indonesian "no thank you" and continued to walk by. after a few steps i thought "why not take that as an opportunity to go and see what that warong is selling instead of just walking on just because i don't drink coffee?" so i did an "about face" and walked over and stopped at the bench and discovered an old woman on the other side of the narrow table, bent over a big wok on an old wood burning heater frying something. i was again offered coffee and declined, saying in my best indonesian, that i don't drink coffee thank you. but pointed at the little soup bowls with brown, grey and white chunks of something in them, and some little fried balls, and said "one thousand rupiah, please" ("10 cents worth") and waved my hand over the options having no idea what i was buying. she said "two thousand" and i nodded my consent, since i had absolutely no idea how much the stuff should cost. she pantomimed for me someone eating, and i pantomimed back that i want carry out. she quickly folded the inner banana leaf and outer brown paper into a wide ice cream cone shape and filled it with a few chunks of stuff, sprinkled something drizzly over it all and nimbly folded and stapled the brown paper and handed it to me. meanwhile the man drinking the coffee was pantomiming to me that i am the one that plays the gamelon with the womens orchestra, right? i smiled and nodded yes, and i got the thumbs up from him. took my little surprise packet and thanked them and was happy to have this mystery balinese morning sweet in my shoulder bag.
next stop would be the flower stall, next to the temple, where a husband and wife team had big straw baskets full of flower petals and shredded pandan leaves that they were quickly packing into little plastic bags for 10 cents for the women in line to purchase and prepare their morning offerings with. their three small children were waving hello to me from the porch near my feet where they too were busy sitting and packing up little bags with flowers so that when the rush comes it is all ready. all of these shops are small and are the fronts of their houses, turned into a shop during work hours. when it is my turn, we nod, smile, and i receive my 10 cent packet of mixed flower petals and leaves and say goodbye to the giggling kids...as a tourist i am an attraction for them.
next, i cross the street, and see the butcher at work, at a small writing table right on the street, in front of his little shop, with the freshly slaughtered chickens and the line of 4 women, all wanting a few bits and pieces of chicken for broth or meat. the balinese women cook once, in the morning, a pot of rice, and a few different dishes made from fish, chicken, pig, tofu, tempeh, or vegetables, and this is left covered on a small table in the house and three times during the day, each family member will take a flat soup plate and put some rice and a tablespoon from each of the little spicy delicacies and eat in a corner, alone, with his fingers, for a few minutes, and then off to rest, or to work again.sometimes the above foods are prepared by local women "chefs" that vary their daily entrees according to what they found in the market, and the customers tell them how much they want of each ( 10 cents, 20 cents, etc.) . i am probably considered "wealthy" since i usually buy an array for a big $1.
the next kiosk is where i discovered nice spicy fish and coconut balls wrapped in a banana leaf and steamed. but this morning, her options do not include it. so i say goodbye and turn into the pasar, the marketplace. if you didn't know it was there, you would just walk right by it, as i almost do each morning, since in the dark i don't remember that this narrow opening is "the market"!...
on the ground sit middle aged to old woman with baskets of banana leaves, flowers, bananas, palm leaves, all with a stick of incense in each, blessing the wares. the width of this entrance is just enough room for the women to line up on either side of the path and a single file bee line of people can walk between them. how suddenly someone manages to go by on their motorbike i haven't figured out yet, but they do. so after a few flower sellers, there are about another 8 stalls. the first one to the left is "my" market woman. she has a bucket with fresh tofu squares in it, fresh sprouted mung beans, a few huge cucumbers, about a dozen small tomatoes, baby onions in a little basket and a few heads of garlic, another couple little baskets behind the counter with different types of hot chili peppers, little plastic bags with a "salad mix" of a few chinese cabbage leaves, a quarter of an old carrot, a few arugula leaves, and a tiny piece of celery. she also sells eggs and all kinds of vegetables and beans that i have never seen, all in small quantities on a crowded table top. you tell her how much you want (yes, the inevitable "10 cents worth, please") and she packs it up for you.
next to her is a younger woman with similar stuff, and then sit about 5 women on the ground with trays of fresh fish. what is still left of the market place are a few more stalls on the main narrow path with some fruits (baby apples, mangos, pears, tangerines, baby watermelons, papaya,) and one or two stalls selling individually wrapped fried cookies or cupcakes and other sweets that are meant to be placed in the offerings made at the temples.
they all giggle and point at me as i walk in with my sarong, and giggle some more when i speak to them in indonesian, and then i stand there dumbfounded when they answer me back! and they laugh some more. they like imitating how i pronounce the words, and laugh again. and laugh some more that i am buying flowers for offerings, and hot Chile peppers, like they do. having spent a big $1 or 2 on food and flowers for a few days, i leave the market place and begin my walk back home.
more women are filing up the streets either on motorbikes or by foot, as we pass each other we smile, or say "pagi" ( "morning") or yell out to me " pagi mama!" if it happens to be one of the women i play with in the orchestra. none of them speak english, but we are all happy to see each other in and out of the practice sessions. by the time i am on the main road again, more of the shops are opening, since it is already 5, 5:30, and the elderly family members have already done their part by sweeping the grounds in front of the shop, or hosing it down, to start a fresh new day. all of this is done, quietly, slowly, with the chanting and gamelon playing as a backdrop loudly echoing out of the speakers throughout the village from the temple at 5 for half an hour. i love walking home and hearing that background music.
so this is the daily ritual of all of the women in the village. since most do not own refrigerators, this is the way to eat fresh food daily, to meet each other, and to start the day before they go off to support their families already as early as 6 when school starts for some of the children, and they are the teachers. and the men....are often the ones that care for the younger children, or sit outside their house on the steps, watching traffic, or are dressed in uniform and work as teachers, nurses, municipal jobs...or building houses, or tending the orchards or fishing....
there is a very strong sense that it is the women that are running this country. they are strong, powerful, clever, friendly, humble women that work hard and long and with a sense of humor and a smile and openness that is a pleasure to meet each day. and it was that lovely old woman that made the interesting "goodies" that i later unpacked and ate; a kind of brown colored rice pudding with palm sugar, a white hunk of sticky rice sprinkled with shredded coconut, palm sugar and lemon juice, and some tiny fried tempura bananas. a typical balinese breakfast.
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