"water for the place, and then for you"

I just returned from a temple ceremony. This is the bi -yearly small one, so there was not a live gamelon orchestra playing there, but rather with an array of some 10 singers taking turns singing the old melodies that are meant to" prepare the way" for the eventual praying which comes at the end.

It started a few days ago with Nyoman, the lovely manager/chef here, and mother of two, asking me if I am interested in coming to a temple ceremony, since I had told her if there ever is anything going on, I would like to be included. I happily said yes, and she told me she will pick me up at 1:30. There was a strange silence in the air, like before a holiday in Israel, where everything has been prepared and now it is the actual event that is about to begin.

I dressed in my sarong with girdle over it to keep it all together (that’s what they do here) and my see-thru white brocade kabiya (long sleeved tight fitted long blouse, that's what they do here) and a cream sash tied on my waist (a symbol of "seriousness"). All the people, including infants, come dressed in sarongs, and the men all in white shirts and little white kerchiefs on their forehead. She picked me up on her motor bike. We drove 5 minutes to her home in the village where the houses are set next to each other like matchboxes with narrow paths in between them, and met her husband (unemployed and caring for the 6 month old baby while she is manager of the resort and chef), 8 year old daughter and 6 month old baby girl (I emphasize the sex since the Balinese need a boy; to do tasks in the temple and to eventually care for the parents in old age…so this means they will probably try for a third child, hoping it will be a son)..

We drove off on two motorbikes, and began a 15 minute ride on a narrow winding road up through the forest on and on and on. When I saw where we were driving I cried a little from the sheer beauty and incomprehensibleness of it all….climbing up the narrow bumpy pock holed path, passing little bamboo huts here and there in the woods, a stream winding along the side of the road, tall beautiful green leaved trees surrounding and shading us, little plots of farmland or a cow under a palm leaf roof…and smiling people and children here and there, an odd kiosk every now and then and high mountains surrounding us. A toot of the horn as we approached each curve to warn anyone coming in the other direction on this narrow path meant for walking or a motorbike. A temple? Here? So touching.

We stopped at a curve in the road where there was a make shift restaurant (bench, table, mortar and pestle from a big rock, some pots, and snacks), Nyoman introduced me to her mother and sister who had prepared this for the villagers who might be hungry before or after the ceremony. There also were the 2 big offerings waiting in baskets on a mat on the ground behind them, that her sister had prepared for Nyman, who was too busy working the past two days, which would be offered at the multiple altars at the temple grounds, and carried on your head until you place them down. They were trays and baskets filled with fruits and cakes and rice and sweets.

We started by taking a few steps down a short path in the woods where there were two small altars; here we asked for the "right" to participate in the ceremony at the temple. Next we climbed up a narrow foot path on the edge of a gorge and stopped at a very big old tree that had the gold block designed material wrapped around its trunk, symbolizing its sacredness. Nyoman said this is a mysterious tree. It is on her father in laws land , and she pointed to the forest we were in and the gorge and said this is his and he has a small hut inside where he stays each day, and goes home to sleep at night. And if someone does something that is wrong, the tree knows it and tells it to her father in law who then becomes sick, and he goes to the healer, who tells him that someone did something wrong on the property, and that that is why he is sick, and he heals him. So we must also make an offering to this tree, since it is the sacred family tree, and remember to say Om santi santi santi Om afterwards, so that way it symbolizes the end of the prayer and tells the gods you are done and they should not follow you around anymore but stay put, otherwise you cannot sleep at night and all kinds of other problems that having a god with you can cause….

And then, to the actual temple grounds right next door. I followed her up two sets of steps that needed special care with a sarong on and a big offering on my head, since they were quite high and steep. And here we entered an area almost the size of a basketball court where there were several altars scattered around. Each one received its offering which was placed on the ground or on the altar itself, and then we sat on the side and mingled. On the side were the singers who had microphones and were singing their slow long minor keyed melody, and when they had had enough they passed the mic to another one that had been trained in this special type of singing. Nyoman is also a singer, as is her mother, and uncle, and grandfather. She pointed out an old woman and said "she is a singer too, but she is now blind, but still sings very beautifully, as does her husband", an old man that allowed the blind woman to lean on him as he lead the way, with his almost toothless smile. I asked if young people still are interested in learning this style of temple song, and she said that very few are, and that the government has decided that it will be taught in school by special teachers, otherwise the day will come when it will be lost. I was grateful that as the hours passed I was able to sit and watch each of the singers, including the blind woman and her husband. There is no differentiation between men and women in these tasks, both are allowed to do it, as is also with being a priest/ess….
Along with hanging out for over two hours, as people slowly made their way in with their offerings and children, and sat down on the ground to chat quietly with each other here and there, there was also a table for giving the bi yearly donation of 30,000 rupias ($4, per family, but more than a days salary here in bali). This would be used to cover the costs of the ceremony and to continue building in the temple. They were grateful to receive a donation from me, the foreigner.

Eventually we were a few hundred people there, men women and children, all sitting randomly next to each other in more or less rows on the ground, quietly chatting, babies being passed from grandparents to parents to nieces, to aunts and uncles. We placed our flip flops on the ground first and then sat on them (so the sarong doesn't get too dirty I think and a bit of a cushion). People kept flowing in with their offerings and the altars and ground surrounding them were overflowing with colorful baskets. Big old frangipani trees draped in gold cloth were the backdrop for the position of the altars as their branches still gave blossoms here and there. Some of the late comers had quite large and impressive offerings, which they placed on the altars after managing their way through all the sitting villagers. I asked if the size has anything to do with their devotion. Nyoman, being the devoted woman that she is, made no remark about status symbols or competition, but rather pointed out that a month before the ceremony, you can ask the gods for enough money to make a very beautiful and big offering in order to acknowledge your gratitude to them for your big income, and then you will see that you suddenly have a lot of money in order to make a very big offering for the temple so you can say thank you to them.

I asked Nyoman how old the temple is. She said it is only a few years old and that it was her grandfather that was the first one to start coming here. He had been sick, and the healer told him he should go walk in the forest and find the sacred place there where he will be healed. He walked around here and saw some rocks piled together, he prayed, and felt healed. Then when other people were sick, they too came to this place, and were healed, and eventually they decided to build the new temple here.

There are 11,000 residents in tejakula, the village, and about 30 temples, and about 50 priests, and one of them is also THE healer, even though there are more here. Priests are initiated if they have been very ill and go to a healer and he tells them that they are ill because they are now supposed to become a priest and if they do they will be healed. There are those that refuse, and they continue to be very ill, having operations on their head (the priestess had two, until she finally agreed, and then she was healthy) etc, until finally they succumb to the demand of the gods, and have a ceremony recognizing that now they will begin to learn to be a priest/ess. Then the oldest priest gives them private lessons for a long time. There are many details and things to learn by memory which is very overwhelming for many of them, but the priest promises them that if the gods have singled him/her out for the task, then they will also give them the ability to learn it all and not to fear, and that is exactly what always happens…

So for hours the chanting went on and the quiet chatting among whoever is sitting next to you on the ground, and then people lit a stick of incense and placed it in the ground in front of them and there was silence; the ceremony was beginning. It had taken the ten priests a while to get everything ready as they sat in the front row facing the altars with all of us behind them. The little hand bell started ringing and went on during the ceremony, which included several of them walking to each altar and flicking holy water on each one with a kind of brush made from green rice stalks braided together and blessed water in a silver pitcher, along with rice thrown on them too. This was in order to first purify the place from any evil spirits before they pray. Next, we all did a little prayer, and then the priests continued to quietly pray and do more or less the same motions again to all of the altars, while everyone else was semi attentive. The man that had collected the donations made a short announcement about how much was contributed and how much things cost and how people are asked to give a special onetime donation of $30 for a new building that is needed there. No comments were made, or complaints heard. It is up to each one to do as he understands. If the temple is important to him and the power that is there is one that is appreciated, then he will want to find a way to contribute, even in payments, as Nyoman pointed out.

The third time around, they collected little cups of water from all of the blessed altars and poured them into their silver pitchers and then came around with that holy water flicking it on each devotee and blessing them. Nyoman pointed out " first there is water for the place, and then water for you" it sounded like a simple statement, but when I thought about it, I was touched, because that really is the priority here; first to revere their surroundings and then to be blessed after having recognized that we are actually just "guests" inhabiting this place for a short lifetime The blessing of each person was done by all the priests going around among everyone as they sat, in the traditional way of putting your palms out, getting water flicked on them 3 times and each time you lick the water, and the fourth time you wipe it on the top of your head, a few more flicks of water on your head while he recites a silent prayer and then a few grains of wet raw white rice are given to each one to place on their forehead (third eye), top of the head (where the skull cap is placed in Judaism) on the tongue, throat and behind the ear and chest with the intention that all of these "openings" be with the intention of devotion to god.

As we repeated the Om santi santi OM at the end, the ending had been recognized and everyone suddenly got up and went to take their offerings back home, offering the contents to family and friends or burning them and placing it at the entrance to the temple. Nyoman made me a doggie bag which I will treat my Balinese family that I am taking into the big city tomorrow. And then I hopped on the back of the motorbike and we drove downhill again on the narrow winding forest path, passing all those less fortunate that don't have a motorbike, and walked all the way up there with their offerings by foot.

This was a typical ceremony. They occur at least once a week for some reason or another and form the framework of the Balinese lifestyle. You work if you don't have a ceremony to go to. The sweeping of the grounds all the time, is the same as the flicking of the water…all the time being attentive that the ground and me are not a place for evil spirits to play frolic, but rather a place where there has been a action of purpose towards being suitable to be inhabited by a god that brings health, security and peace.

being and doing

in my kabbalah studies i have understood that life is a series of steps that we go up on and there is the effort to reach the next step each time, but once we are on that step we are on a plateau and we gain our balance and stance and then....we need more; more stimulation, more pleasure, more whatever and so we reach out for the next step, and this constant reaching reflects our need to receive something new all the time (information, knowledge, experience, love, material goods, respect, spirituality, talents....) and that this inborn trait of a constant need to receive is what animates our lives. if we feel the meaninglessness of it all and search for a deeper meaning and purpose to our lives, (to bestow) than we may be able to develop another level of existence, a soul,

why am i explaining all of this? because it is right there on the surface of my life all of the time, and especially apparent now since i have arrived in new, yet familiar surroundings. the first day when i returned the power of this place and its impact on me filled me with joy.i could feel how hungry i was inside for the nourishment that i receive here from my surroundings. i became my "best" me. a week ago i left home not knowing why i was returning here, with a distant fuzzy memory that a few months ago while here i had felt my ultimate dream life had been realized and i must return and live here.

and now i can feel how i am on "the step" standing, stable....and then comes the gnawing ever present question "and what now? is this all there is to life?" that constant need for another "hit". it doesn't matter what the hit is from; food, sex, a phone call, a cigarette, chocolate, money, a compliment, a trip, a haircut, a swim....and i remember my brother years ago stating that he wanted to be a "human being" and not a "human doing". that made an impact on me, but i was very busy doing and couldn't imagine not doing....and now years later i find myself "retired"...the drive to work at a job everyday has vanished, but instead i have discovered that i am a healthy capable human being with many talents and abilities and i want to give to the world...but how?

yesterday i went to visit someones new villa in the area here, to see if he needed a house-sitter while they go abroad for a few years. it would be a cheap way to stay in bali by the sea, so i went to check it out. as i sat behind him on the motorbike he asked me what i plan to do with all my time? hmm...good question. as an anglo here in bali, i cannot really work and earn money, unless i am doing something that a balinese person cannot do, since they need work badly. he said that if i was going to be taking care of his house while he and his wife are abroad, there would be cleaning and gardening and upkeep to do, but is that what i am looking for? i realized , as soon as i arrived at their place which reminded me of an arab house in a typical arab viillage as far as architecture and landscape and furnishings and a 5 minute walk to the sea...when i returned to my place, feeling a bit depressed it took me a while to discover what it is that nourishes me here.

it isn't just to be "in bali" at any cost. i woke up this morning before dawn to watch the sunrise over the sea, and also to see how it later began to shimmer on the water, and the fishing boats came in and the fishermen were arranging their nets and the kids were hanging out to see how many fish were caught, i realized that i am a voyeur,,,,i am getting vicarious pleasure from standing in the sun by the sea watching these simple people live their simple lives with care and respect and aesthetics. is this how i want to spend my life? i kept hooping after they went on their way, and kept trying to figure out what it is here? and as i sit in this "bale" (a raised platform with a double mattress and pillows open on all sides and with a straw roof over it overlooking the sea) i realize that there is a lot of power in these huge old trees that line the seashore, the canopies of shade they offer, the tall tall coconut trees with their lovely leaves hanging down and creating an idyllic picture frame as the sun rises beyond them, the sound of the sea, the soft heaving surface of the water, the coast that gently curves around the blue sky, the quiet aesthetics, the children jumping in the sea in the afternoon, the villagers walking by to the temple now and then with an offering on their heads, the temples that are nearby with their music, the cool breeze, the exotic lush green garden, the exquisite gourmet healthy meals i am served, and the simple empty small bedroom with a wooden window that opens out to the sea without a screen on it and....what now? what am i going to do all day? or BE all day?

a friend asked me what i do all day. i decided to write it down for her; wake up to see the sunrise, journal 3 pages free style, write down my gratitude and prayer list, do tibetan yoga and tai chi exercises, have a hot shower, hoola hoop in the morning sun on the sand jog on the trampoline while learning indonesian on my mp3, meet 6 other people here and have a nice breakfast together out under the huge bale (covered platform) that overlooks the sea, have interesting conversation with them, sit out overlooking the sea on my laptop with internet and either blog or study kabbalah for a few hours, write some emails, go for a walk on the beach or into the village, take some photos or discover something that i have never seen before: making salt, fixing fishing nets, balinese dancing lessons which happens either while walking along the beach or in the village or forest nearby.... come back and have a light lunch again with everyone, go for a swim in the pool and enjoy the gardens that surround me as i swim, and commune with nature, play the onkelon (xylophone) and try and learn new traditional balinese tunes, again kabbalah studies or e-mails or repeat todays indonesian lesson again to try and remember the new vocabulary, try it out on the staff or local villagers, edit the photos i took, meet everyone again for dinner, enjoy being served another aesthetic delicious meal that the chef has planned for us and that feeds all the senses but does not leave me feeling like i overate along with good conversation and laughs. and then off to bed with either some more kabbalah or not. that is my day....a typical day....

but i am beginning to feel that gnawing feeling that i am no longer a tourist, but neither am i a resident, and what am i going to do with my life? why am i here? to write a blog? to just be? to volunteer? am i allowed to just do that everyday? just be? or do i need to DO something? why am i alive today? do i return to my home in israel and find a part time job in a few months and THEN there is meaning to my life? and what happens then to all the things that give me so much energy and life here (the sea, the huge trees, the warm weather, the down to earth villagers...) can i "BE" anywhere. or is it natural that these physical conditions make me feel more alive and nourished? to be or not to be....yes, that really is the question....

sunrise with the fishermen

every morning i watch the fishermen come in with their boats and catch, and wonder when did they go out and how did they catch them and what is it like to be a fisherman. so ...i asked Made', the maintenance/gardener/backbone of cili emas resort if it is okay for a woman to go out with a fisherman in the boat, since he is their leader too, having been a fisherman before working at the resort 2 years ago. he immediately walked out the little front gate and asked the 3 men by their boats, and one of them agreed and said to come at 4:15 the next morning.

so, i made sure i didn't hoola hoop while waiting for dinner to be served, since it gives me too much energy and then i can't fall asleep, and i went to bed early hoping that my prayers would be answered and that "somehow" i would wake up on time, since i don't know how to use my digital alarm on my clock....that "somehow" made me laugh as i thanked god at 3:45 for having my next door neighbor make a short cough at that moment, and i woke up, and saw that it was just the time i wanted to wake up, thank you!

i went out in the dark of the pre-dawn sky, but since only two days earlier there had been a full moon (and big ceremonies at the temples here in honor of the lunar eclipse, even though bali itself did not experience it, but in honor of the unique juxtaposition, that elicited recognition towards god) so i could feel my way out to the shore along the rocky black sand. where i awaited my fisherman,. i remember thinking he looked too serious for me, but other than that had no idea what he looked like and hoped he would recognize and remember me.

while waiting for him, i realized that no one else was taking a boat out, so even if we didn't recognize each other, our broken english enabled the connection: "hello", "me go?" "Yes?" "Boat?"Okay?" Next he proceeded to remove the 2 huge dry palm leaves that had been placed on top of the boat when it is not in use. he lined them up from the boat, on the sand in the direction of the sea and placed 2 short tree trunks at either end. this was to enable lifting and pushing the boat from its resting place during high tide on the rocky coast into the sea, as smoothly as possible. i joined him in lifting and pushing the boat that rolled on the tree trunks over the the palm leaves and into the sea. the boat is made from a hollowed out tree trunk so it is quite heavy, and at one point he changed positions and placed the weight of the boat by means of poles that come out on the sides, onto his neck, like a bull in the field pulling equipment. unbelievable. when we finished bringing the boat close to shore, he gestured to stop, and he lifted up each palm leaf, placed it in the other direction along with the trunks of wood and i realized that he was arranging it for the boat upon its return so it would be easy to push up along the groove of the palm leaf.

then he sat down and we waited. i chose to continue standing nearby, but after a while he moved further back to shore and i realized that "when in rome do as the romans" and that he must have felt very uncomfortable sitting on the ground near my feet, and me standing up next to him for 10 minutes....(so next time i will just copy whatever he does...) meanwhile we waited....for what, i did not know, until a while later another older man appeared carrying the motor attached to a rudder which is attached to the boat for the trip. so we were going to be a threesome. fine.

the night before i chose to tell my hosts about my plans to go out early in the morning with the fishermen, just in case i didn't come back for breakfast and they might worry. in the morning a few thoughts crossed my mind like: the crashing of those waves sounds really strong...what happens if i get sea sick?! no life preservers...what happens if we tip over? what happens if he makes a pass at me? jump overboard? and as each of those fears appeared, i looked them in the eyes, and they disappeared. and as i waited to go out to sea, i said my daily prayers and trusted that whatever happens it is gods will and all is well....i am not alone.

with all 3 of us there and the motor attached and the boat by the sea, all that was left was to wait for the right wave in order to give a final push into the sea and jump in. they added a little seat for me; a piece of wood 40 x20 which sat nicely in the narrow tree trunk and was just big enough for my "western" bottom (as compared to the very small build of the balinese!) and off we went, in the dark, with the low hum of the motor to catch some fish.

i was surprised to see that i had an expectation that we would be going off somewhere over the horizon in deep dark waters and would not see any sign of the coast and would have to return by means of there the sun or moon were...but instead we just went off to the west going along quite close to shore for some 15 minutes and then threw the 2 nets in the water there. even though it wasn't as dramatic as i had anticipated, it still felt like some spielberg movie to me...the sea was like some breathing life form, rising and lowering and in the light of the moon it looked like some thick black oil that we were gliding through; very sensuous and new to me. once someone tried to explain to me that waves are not actually the water coming from one place and getting to another, but rather a movement that is going through the water itself. that was a bit amorphous for me to understand then and finally i could experience that this morning; really seeing how there is the sea, and in the sea there is a movement so great that is going through it lifting and dropping the water as it moves to the shore.

after the nets were lowered into the sea, he paddled to shore and we got out of the boat he walked to some dry sand and sat down. i walked to some dry sand and sat down nearby. the other man walked off somewhere in the dark. "we wait till 6" I tried to say 6 in indonesian, grabbing an opportunity to practice some of the indonesian words i am learning, but...made a mistake and said seven...or five, or something... and there we sat in the dark in silence. how does he know when its 6, he doesn't have a watch?! ah, yes, by the rising sun...don't make a joke about it. i have learnt in the past that the moment it is a man and a woman, don't start small talk....it gets misinterpreted. i also remember an indonesian laughing once and describing americans as always having to talk, instead of being able to sit in silence. so i decided to just watch how the sky slowly changed with the coming of dawn.

after a while he pointed to me and to him and made a motion like a scissors cutting with his fingers and asked "swami? swami?"....hmmm....is he asking if i am married? or whether him and i....? in any case, the answer is no, so i said no, and continued to look out to sea. silence.a few minutes later; "what is your name?" "eileen" "made'" (i already know 3 made' that work at the resort out of the 5 employees, and here's another one!) a few minutes later he did another charade with his fingers asking "permata?" and the movement looked like someone pushing a wedding ring onto the third finger again and again....hmmm...is he asking where my wedding ring is or is that a movement that has sexual intonations to it?! again, the answer: no, to either meaning it had....

on the one hand i thought; wow, this is cool, they are really like little kids, no foreplay, no being smooth and having ulterior motives, he is right up front ; You want to screw? but on the other hand it made me sad that this is men, all over the world, all the time,,,,why? why is that the only thing on their mind? why? i am sure he could sense my closing down communication with him, so he just laid back on the rocks and started to whistle a temple tune and later also accompany it with the knocking of 2 stones against each other...the music is in them, and i even thought that the fast rhythm and beat may actually be a means for men to control their sexual impulses...they just get into these beats and it is calming. now and then he was also spitting, but like how a spout from a sculpture would spit out water from a fishes mouth...i wondered how long he had to practice in order to be able to do that in the perfect arc? spitting seems to be something people in the east do...whereas in the west, it is left for the bathroom.

meanwhile with those thoughts i tried to focus on the horizon which was changing from dark grey to orange, then pink and red and slowly watching how my surroundings were slowly appearing in the light of dawn, and that we could actually see each other for the first time this morning. the sky began to have rays of sunshine coming out of the horizon before the sun rose, and i thought of how little kids draw and how this is one of the first times i have ever really and truly seen the sun rays like that. and also remembering seeing a drawing of a flower by a friends 22 year old daughter and it had auras of color around the flower petals, and i thought "does she really see auras around flowers?! is that possible? or is it just the anthroposophic way of drawing?" but this morning i began to think that it may really depend on a persons level of perception, which can change over time, allowing them to see more layers of reality that until now had been hidden.

once the sun rose, and the other fisherman had joined us, we walked back to the boat and he paddled out to the first net...the other fisherman began to pull it in, and then they did it together, catching only one small lone fish, no comment. no disappointment, then with the motor on we arrived at the next net and they pulled it in too...3 small fish, no comment. and we returned back the way we had come. it was nice being able to see where i live, but from out at sea. as we passed along the shoreline the villagers were just starting their day; dipping big buckets that were placed on a pole over their shoulders into the sea in order to bring back to their little palm leaf shack or teepee some water, simple simple roof coverings in order to sleep in and the rest of the day is spent outside. and right next to them are a few big areas with big villas and built in pools and glass houses...such extremes... it was nice to arrive back to my resort and see how it quietly blended in with the palm trees that lined the shore, and the dry palm leaf roof was almost camouflage.

on shore there were already several fishermen that were unloading their catch and folding their nets up, and they all came over to help bring the narrow boat in. i decided that with 6 strong men, i don't have to try and help and moved aside and let them do their communal work without me. still sure that my fisherman had been trying to make a pass at me, i quickly said "terimakasie"(thank you) and disappeared over to the resort. once inside i spotted a balinese woman that knows fluent english and decided to ask her to translate the charades and words the fisherman had said to me in order to clarify that indeed i am just a sex object for these men and to keep my distance. but surprisingly when i told her "swami" she said he was asking if i was married ( and not if i want to marry him, after knowing him for 2 minutes!) and the second gesture was indeed "wedding ring" without any sexual intonations,,,,and i was happy to realize that all he was trying to do is what every balinese does when they meet you: place you in the grid; eileen, unmarried, american, and then they know where things stand and life continues....

later on the resort owner asked me if i gave the fisherman a tip. i said no, that i didn't want to "rock the boat" and that if he did it just as a gesture of kindness, it might insult him to give him money, or cause a precedent among the fishermen and tourists....but he told me i should give him $1-2 ($2 is a daily wage for a builder who works an 8 hour day) . he said it is an expression of cooperation among the resort and the fishing community where it will be win win and it is important to create that kind of bond among us. so i went to my room, took 10,000 rupias ($1) and started to walk over there, and then thought "c'mon, if you are already going to make a gesture of community, don't be stingy about another $1....so i went back and took 20,000 rupia and figured i would give it to the fisherman that has his boat next to his, and is around at the moment, and ask him to give it to his neighbor who took me out. all that was of course in sign language. his wife is a shark when it comes to bargaining and is the one who handles the selling of the fish, and as soon as she saw me approaching the two of them she spotted the money in my hand and i saw her eyes glow! i handed it to him and gestured that he give it to his neighbor, and walked away, happy to have been generous and also a bit of pride there, showing them how the guests at the resort are thoughtful....big mistake....later i was told by made' (made' from the resort that had organized this for me in the first place, that i need to give the money directly to the fisherman that took me....ahem....you mean another 20,000 rupias? yes. oh...you mean that other fisherman will not give the money i handed him, to his neighbor? no. oh.....okay...so now i wonder whether it is my impatience (run over and give him the money now) or my pride (see how generous we tourists are) or my ignorance in balinese behavior, that is my lesson here....

"may happiness and song return to you..."

"…And may happiness and song return to you." Those were the words that one of my daughters wrote me as I was in transit in singapore, since we didn't have time to say our goodbyes by phone. When I read them I was surprised…what?! Don't I have happiness and song always? Was it only in bali that I felt happiness and song? And has she noticed that it has disappeared? What gave me happiness and song there? It can't really depend on a place?! It is in ones' heart wherever one is….so if I don't have it now, I just don't and it isn't going to suddenly come back just because tomorrow I am in bali…

And this morning I awoke to the singing from the temple just before dawn, and the sound of the crashing of the waves on shore, and realizing that I was surrounded by the queenly mosquito netting around the top of my bed, and I felt like a goddess again. I dozed off, not having had enough sleep yet, after arriving safely and grateful with my driver at 3 a.m. and awoke again just before 8 to the singing of one of my favorite villagers (I have no idea what he/she looks like, but the voice and singing is like Sinead o"connor) and the morning sun was shining through the window opposite my bed from the sea, and I knew happiness and song had returned to my heart.

And I laid in bed and tried to put my finger on what exactly is it? What is "it" that does "it " to me here in bali, in cili emas? And so now instead of eating I will try and put it into words….

the airport felt like an ordinary building, nothing special, went outside to try and find my driver among all the ones standing there with signs with your name on them, and one was smiling and waving at me excitedly and when i thought, "oh, i guess that's him" i started to walk up to him just as the man that was standing behind me called out to him and i realized that he wasn't my driver. hmm....returned into the arrivals circle of drivers and started examining their signs and faces trying to recognize my familiar driver and my name, and at last, his big kind quiet smile met mine and we walked to the car. thus began the 3 hours winding ride home through the balinese mountains arriving to the north eastern shore where i had stayed last time.

it was great coming in at midnight since the roads would be empty, i asked him if he thought so too? "we will be like the king on the road " and i thought that he would go zooming through the empty narrow road disregarding the dividing line that appears every now and then,desregarding the speed limit since we were nearly the only car on the road, but no...we really were like the king, on a procession in all his royalty: slow, respectful, careful, safe, no ego....just service...he was bringing me to my resort with all of the care and respect that one would for his highness. honking at sharp curves or intersections just in case there was a motorcyclist or another car approaching, slowly driving around potholes in the road, and gently taking the hours and hours of curves on the road so that i was not car sick. and it also allowed me to just watch my surroundings and try to understand what is so magical about this place for me?

as we drove through the major city at the beginning i realized it could be any city in asia, no big deal. but as the road became narrow, and was lined on the sides barely leaving a shoulder and the old trees lined it along with small simple old houses lit by a bare light bulb here and there, and we passed through the areas where many of the sacred statues are carved, i felt a presence....that everyone was asleep, but something else was alive here....a few dogs roaming the streets now and then careful to move to the sides when a car approached, and together with that an unexplainable feeling that something was "guarding" over everything...i must be imagining this...silly me...go to sleep,,,stop making up magical stories about bali just to justify your going there again...

and i realized the contrast between singapore, and bali...there was something very ancient and real and unique and natural about these little villages that just grew out of peoples needs as farmers and artisans. no cars lining the roads in front of houses, and the narrow road almost up to the doorsteps of the house or compound, and temples dotted among them, and even new ones being built, but aha....the telling sign...that before it was even finished, the little altar was put in place first and offerings given several times a day...it may seem it is done out of caution or habit, but for me it feels like a constant reminder of something greater than ourselves and what we are doing and that has top priority in every walk of life here. the altar, the calendar date when something is auspicious, the chanting of the priests and temple singers...it is in the air and feels like the seed that is the inside of all of the outer physical world we see and live in.

i awoke in the cab just as he turned into the little street of tejakula, the village that i had lived near and fallen in love with a few months ago. hmmm...is there really anything special about this place or was it just some romantic notion i had then that is now gone....but as we drove the 5 minute drive down the narrow pot holed road to the seafront, all the memories of the smiling faces and experiences i had had returned in the dark underneath the tall powerful trees that lined the road. we entered the resort just as jochan intuitively came to meet us at the little gate, welcoming me and showing me to my new room. grateful and happy to see him again, and happy to lay down on a bed after sleeping on planes and floors for 2 days, i fell asleep in my lovely bedroom immediately to the sound of the crashing of the waves at sea.

i awoke at 5:30, before dawn, to the singing of the temple singer, and smiled....loving it and dozing off again shortly after. again awakening to my favorite temple singer that sings Capella like sinead o'connor such beautiful melodies and now with the morning sun shining through the curtains and lighting up the lovely mosquito netting that was draping my bed from above like a canopy.

when i finished photographing everything that touched me ( the small block of natural mango soap wrapped in the banana leaf and tied with a thin leaf, the aesthetic bathroom and shower that is open to the sky and trees with no need for screens and roofs, the beautiful minimalistic ethnic artwork against the bare grey cement backdrop, the cement floor that softly receives my heels as i walk or exercise on it, the flowers everywhere; on my bed, sink, shelf, desk, the basket full of home grown baby bananas, and the pitcher of healthy tasty water) and last but not least my bamboo gamelon instrument that i left here 2 months ago, after having taught myself how to play on it the ethnic music of the villagers.... i knew that all of these things, make me feel the way i feel here. the fresh air, the smiling faces, the aesthetic food, the life outdoors, the big tall trees, the sounds of people using natural tools in nature; pounding, sweeping, and the sea....with a life of its own, changing every moment.

jochan took me around the garden to point out all of the new things he has been doing, nicole was busy teaching a course in liver cleansing and healthy life style, and i felt that god had given me the greatest gift...to be able to return here again, and feel that same song and happiness that i discovered here 4 months ago, but had totally forgotten. it reminded me of the old kabbalistic tale of the kings son who was banished from the kingdom so that he could learn about the world, but also forgot from where he had come, and only later returned to the kingdom again rediscovering all the riches and heritage that had been his all along, but that he had forgotten about once he left them.

impressions from 30 hours in singapore

A bustling city that looks like a doll house with lots of trees and gardens and everything is orderly and geared to newest technology, including the 5 underground subway lines. No drinking or eating allowed on them ($500 fine) and of course no smoking, everything is spotless. Just now a 70+ year old man was cleaning up the leaves from the sidewalk, wearing shoes at least 2 sizes too big on him, and to think that his job all day consists of walking around sweeping up the leaves and rubbish that is on the sidewalk, and that he has to shuffle his feet the whole time because otherwise his shoes will fall off. The subway was jam packed and so are the roads. Many rich people driving rolls Royce or BMW and a lot of muslims, but everything Is translated into 4 languages: English, Indonesian, Chinese, and hindi. Women are with high heels and mini's (yes, I am not in style with my long flowing white skirt, since all of the long flowings here are only the black dresses the musliim women are wearing.) The little singporean kids have lots of energy and are busy running around the airport and look like miniature adults; either they walk at a very young age, or they are just very tiny when they are 2 years old! It is strange to see the physicality here which is often expressed between couples by hitting one another on the face, shoulder, head, arm….can't imagine a Frenchman doing that to the woman he loves… As I look around I try and wonder if bali could ever be like this…but I don't think so, since it seems like everyone started with the same raw materials but Singapore has definitely headed towards technology and wealth, and bali seems much more rooted in tradition and religion. People here are friendly towards tourists and have offered their help without me even asking (again me wondering how they even know I am a tourist, forgetting that I don't have slanted eyes and a flat face like them!) Recycling is big here, and it is good to see. In the airport they have recycling centers for newspapers, canned drinks and plastic bottles, all designed just like the object itself, just 200 times bigger and with a slot to put the item in. the metro uses plastic cards which are reusable and that you pay $1 for each time, and then get a refund when you put it back in the machine at the end of your trip…brilliant. All the cards are the same, but you have incorporated into their memory the price you have paid and the route you will use. Riding the metro was interesting, seeing how things have been designed with peoples needs in mind, like the triple poled stand so that many people can hold on while the train takes off with a slight jolt, and there is enough hand space and privacy for one and all. The map route lights up so you know where you are, where it is going, and even has a light on the door showing you which door opens on which side, preventing confusion. Rushing to add a few more impressions before the battery goes…(Singapore has a different electric outlet than all the other ones I have used, so couldn't recharge the laptop)…meeting mr. malik (abu yusef) was a challenge in the lobby of the grand hyatt hotel…neither of us knew what the other person looks like, and there were all kinds of people waiting in the lobby, and I kept trying to guess which one looked like a muslim (as compared to Christian Singaporean, hidu Singaporean, and all the foreigners…) he came almost an hour later than planned but I asked someone to use their cell phone just to make sure I wasn't going to end up having to spend another night on the floor of the airport and having to buy a new ticket to bali If so…I was waiting by a woman and daughter and when he finally walked in he waved to the 3 of us and it turns out that he was arranging her Balinese visa too…what a joke, and that she has a 3 bungalow resort on the north west coast of bali…in the end I went with her and her daughter to "little India" here in Singapore, and finally felt "at home": incense, flowers, music, real people, …it is only when I actually am IN real places do I know that this is what I need, and the rest of the time I just feel like I am from another planet, and am like a zombie walking around not understanding why everyone seems so comfortable with modern living, except me. I looked for a typical family restaurant where I could eat an authentic Indian meal, and went by the old rule "eat where the natives are eating" and so after I scanned them out, I went back to the crowded one and laughed to myself as I sat down, recognizing that the only other anglos were the man (from japan) and the American woman that had slept on the floor in the airport near me ….how all 3 of us found this original real restaurant left me amazed again at gods timing….how did we both leave the airport and end up at this restaurant at the same time, out of all of Singapore (and then hours later be standing at exactly the same metro station buying tickets for the same stop which had nothing to do with the airport….?!! The food was great, and I was happy that only after I finished did I start looking around at the décor and realized they had a certificate framed above the man taking the money at the cash register and it had a big "C" on it, when I tried to read the small print it said "Average in hygiene and cleanliness" …god willing it will all stay down and I will arrive in bali healthy after having drunk a litre of water from their faucet while I watched the Indians also drinking it but not putting their lips to the metal cups….(I assume out of hygiene…but when I tried imitating them I realized how much practice I would need to do that simple "pouring" water into my mouth) Off to meet mr. mallik with my visa and back to the airport for my night flight . I think the word "pink" pretty much summarizes Singapore for me….lots of men wearing pink shirts with their suits, or pink shorts, and there are pink houses, and it just seems "pretty and pink" and enough for my short transit stop for me.

The bali spirit festival

After having volunteered for 2 days helping to make entrance tags and hang material up as dividers for all the healers that would be there, I was given free entrance for the first day of the festival. The cards were in my favor as each thing that I planned on doing did not work out, and only better things did!

It started off by walking to the nearby shuttle bus which was supposed to leave every 15 minutes to bring people the 20 minute trip to the lovely grounds out of the city. But when I got there, the man said there is no shuttle. Hmmm…so I just stood there, not really knowing what I would do… and gradually he invited me to join a car that was going there in a few minutes and for free…thank you! I was on a small budget, having had trouble changing one of the hundred dollar bills I had taken for the trip, so all I had left was enough money to get to the airport tomorrow and pay the exit fee. A fellow hooper had spontaneously and generously handed me 30,000 rupias ($30) when she heard about my situation…I think that was one of the few times that I was in a position in which I had to accept money that was being given to me out of the blue from someone’s kind heart, and that is not an easy thing to do…to receive…much easier to give.

So I was happy that I would have money for the drive to the festival, but in the end it was for free….nice…when I got to there, I wanted to sign up for a watsu session with Michael Hallock, who is a highly recommended watsu world specialist. When I signed up they decided not to take a down payment since he hadn’t arrived yet and they wanted to make sure he was coming. It would be all the money I had, apart from enough to get back to my homestay, but I figured I would treat myself to this special session,

Meanwhile there were 8 different areas where yoga was going on in all shapes and forms, this being a world yoga and music festival. I chose one that was highly recommended, and was supposed to be an older man, world renown, that would mainly be speaking, and not too many asanas…so that was perfect for me. As I sat in the big open tent waiting for the class to begin, a woman set her yoga mat down next to me and we introduced ourselves….she; born in Ireland, living in England, a yoga and dance teacher, 58 years old, came for the festival. As we sat and waited with the other 30 some younger people from all over the world, she commented that a teacher should start on time, and that it is already 15 minutes late….hmmm…hadn’t thought about the time. and suddenly a very striking older man strode up to the front, announced: “who is going to put a microphone on me?” no response. Then “who CAN put a microphone on me?” and still no response from the stage hands, and then he looked at a woman that was sitting there and earlier had made a magnificent yantra of beautiful flowers on the ground and held a meditation in the name of sending healing energy to Japan. He pointed at her and said: “You made a yantra earlier. You have already finished your work here.” Hmmm. Then he announced to all of us “everyone sit right here together in the center, now.” in a demanding tone. That was my cue to get up and leave…not my kind of energy, not my kind of teacher, not for me…so I left and as I looked for one of the other workshops that had the name “deeksha’ which no one could tell me what it was, but I liked the sound of it, I instead arrived at another area where they were just starting to do yoga and dance and music all together…ahh….that sounded more my style…so I walked in, after having received a flower placed behind my ear by the receptionist. And sat down in the circle of some 30 people as the leader began. She was a lovely young woman with an English accent, smiling, vibrant, happy, enthusiastic, and announced that there is no right way or wrong way to do anything and whatever we do is perfect….yes…that’s my style; loving, accepting, positive, receptive, and feminine. And for the next hour she led us through meditation, yoga, and a fantastic dance session where we all just discovered so many new movements with our bodies to great music, lovely instructions, and demos, and had fun laughing and playing and dancing with each other.

The festival is for 5 days and attracts a community of ex patriots that live around ubud, bali, and also many yoga people from all over the world. In the evenings there are international famous world music groups performing, and it is all in order to share community and natural products and healing styles and to encourage people to come and discover beautiful special bali. The conception is from an American woman married to an Indonesian and that has been living here for many years and trying to make a difference, and to give back to bali in gratitude for all the beauty and spirituality and creativity that there is here among the Balinese. So I think this is the 5^th year of the festival.

I suddenly looked at someone clock and realized I was late for my watsu session so I went running off before the end of our dancing. I ran to the receptionist who explained to me that he won’t be giving personal sessions, but only workshops once a day, and that today’s 2 hour one is ending in another 20 minutes…and that when Michael saw my name signed up he recognized it since we had written to each other, and he was happy to know I was at the festival and that we would meet…hmm..i decided to try my luck and went over to the infinity pool. As I walked by and I saw him in the pool with 6 couples that were doing the watsu workshop, our glance met and we smiled, and I knew that he knew I was my brothers sister, since we look a lot alike. I sat down at the pool edge and he said that it’s almost over, but he will do a demo with me as a body. Great!

So in the end, one woman worked with me as I received a little watsu swirl in the pool watsu is shiatsu in water. And then he decided to do a demo for everyone with me, showing many different ways you can do watsu with someone. After having introduced me to the group as the sister of his very best most amazing friend on the planer earth, he gently guided me around in the water. I couldn’t have asked for more! What a treat! Watsu allows you to almost return to the fetal stage, and just go deep deep into nowhere. When he finished, and gently brought me back to the edge of the pool to slowly return to reality, I had a big smile on my face. What a gift! As the workshop ended and I slowly opened my eyes, I asked him how I had deserved such a treat?! “It must be your karma.”

After that we stayed in the water and spoke. He is a very special person. It was a really inspiring talk about living in bali, which he does, and community, and making a difference here. That bali is in a fragile position of so many foreigners coming to live here, and that the amount is almost the same as the amount of Balinese, and that the island can just turn into one big resort and lose the magic that is here as the rice fields and natural Balinese lifestyle will slowly disappear and become westernized. Or all of us westerners, that can feel the spirituality that is in the air here and want to make this our home, can bring our wisdom and knowledge and help the Balinese learn about ecology, and recycling, and preserving nature and tradition, and that we can be in a mode of giving and not just reap the fruits for our own pleasure. He said that the Balinese call us by two different names; foreigners, and guests. He prefers the word “guests” which reminds us that we are a guest here. We spoke about different places to live; by a river, in a community of spiritual like minded people in the city, out in a small Balinese village....and as we spoke, the memories of the lovely village of tejakula where I had lived for the past month returned…and of the nice people there, and how I felt so at home and enjoyed teaching English to one of the girls, and was encouraging my guardian angel there to get started on the recycling of the garbage from the village, and the owners of my resort were planning another resort that would be totally ecological. In short, I realized that where I had been, and the way I had connected with the villagers and the ex patriots in the area, was where I want to be. That there I too can make a difference, and already was.

After the wonderful conversation with Michael, I went to a kirtin yoga singing session. i had no idea what it was, but there was a woman singing in such a beautiful voice with no ego in it and accompanied by a fellow on a guitar and some drums now and then. it turns out that this is a type of yoga ( yoga means union...i never knew that! i always thought it meant difficult twisting and breathing exercises...) where you connect with a higher force through devotional singing either together or in a caller/responder mode. some of the words were sanskrit, some english, but all with nice simple melodies and there was a beautiful flower yantra star in the middle of the floor and all of us 20 women and a few men, sitting around singing. at first i thought; why do we have to call this bhakti yoga , why not just say we are singing together and enjoying ourselves...but after we did it for an hour i could feel the difference when everyone is singing with an intention to unite rather than from the ego. it was very cleansing and sensitive.

A lunch break was my next stop and i was grateful to eat good healthy food! and while i was waiting for my salad, the hoola hoop instructor that was the stimulus for me opening up my heart chakra at the last sacred circularities retreat last march in bali, came up to say hello. she had come to teach a teacher training course here in bali and would also be hosting my own original hoola hoop teacher from california at her washington d.c. hoop cooperative, in 2 weeks! it was an opportunity to tell her how spending the week with her last year had changed my life and that i realized that all i need to do in life is listen to my heart chakra...all the answers are right there every moment, and that is how i ended up closing the pottery and coming again to bali! and such synchronicity that she and my first teacher had hooked up together! i love it.

Next was the/ Kecak session where the 20 balinese men that sing and move together, taught a few of us “guests” some of the different harmonies they use that makes it all so special, along with the body movements. We rehearsed together and had a good time, getting the feel of the traditional Balinese song and dance circle that was originally used for healing. Last of the adventures today was a “magic wand” that has crystallized energy in it and that you wave around your chakras and meridians and water and food and whatever and that aligns all the cells so that they are whole and healthy and can heal your body everyday, so that you are your own healer. As I approached their stand they were just about to close up shop, but…my lucky day…they offered to give me a free trial and 2 men waved the wands around me after having placed a gold locket around my neck, and that was nice having another healing done…never one to say no to having a healthy body! And then as I walked to find a shuttle bus back, and they asked for my ticket, but I didn’t have one, the man that had given me the ride in the morning recognized me, I smiled and shrugged my shoulders, and he waved me into the van which brought me back to “start”.

As I walked back to my homestay I noticed that the little store front that I noticed the day before that had a little sign saying “nail manicure” was open. Since I still had a little bit of money left from the gift I received I decided to treat myself, and had my first manicure! In the middle there was a power shortage in the whole area, and since it was already 6 in the evening, she could not see how to put the polish on my other hand….so she went and found a little lighter that had a flash light in it and I held it over each finger as she put the polish on…we laughed. And now, 2 hours later, as I sat with candle light writing this blog, suddenly I heard voices echoing in unison in the neighborhood “yeah!” and I realized the lights just went back on. This is bali, and these are the Balinese, so childlike and happy and simple. Not that there isn’t corruption and all the rest, but there is a basic nature of an open, friendly, smiling, welcome.

Today is my last night in bali. I have decided to return here again in the near future and spend more time in bali at this time in my life. It makes my heart sing, it brings out the best in me. I feel empowered and alive. I smile and laugh and feel part of something which fascinates me. I am grateful that I am healthy, that my kids are grown up and independent and that I can follow my heart. My 4 year old grandson summed it up the best when he was told that grama is going to be staying in bali. “Cool, we can go visit her there!”

So dear friends and family, this is my last entry for this 3 month stay in bali 2011. Thank you all for being out there in virtual space and sharing this journey with me. May you all be blessed and follow your heart. Love,

dewa

dewa is a "driver" here in ubud...that means that he stands outside hotels or restaurants and hopes that someone will need a ride, and tthat way he can earn some money,.,, a friend from the sacred circularities hoola hoop retreat last year met him as she walked out of a restaurant, and since then he has become the "favored driver:" for many of us...since she is such a friendly and interesting swiss woman she started up a conversation with him and it turned out that he just drives in order to help support himself and his parents that live together in ubud, but he is actually an artist; painter and sculptor...last year we went to the famous monkey forest with him so he could show us these huge dragons that he had carved from cement, which is a popular way of carving here in bali.

this time when we returned for our second sacred circularities hoola hoop workshop dewa was our driver again for excursions and airport transport and was also invited to hoop with us one night and to the tribal arts fair that we had one afternoon. he brought a smallish (60 x 60) canvas that was painted in shades of blues with an OM written in sanscrit in the middle.it was very beautiful...it turns out that he is part of an ashram and has been painting pictures of buddhas and other hindu gods and symbols and meditative images for the past couple of years.

we went to see his studio the other day. he is very humble and quiet and very nice. he is usually painting on canvases the size of a door and said that black and white are the preferred tones for sacred paintings but gold/bronze shade can also be added and he is experimenting with that lately, after having gone through a red period also...the huge meditative heads of buddha were beautiful. after seeing the studio we went up another flight of stairs to see his temple area and meditation room. as we looked out from the little porch he pointed out the soccer field next door where some men were putting things back into place after having used it for a cremation the other day.there were rice fields scattered below us, and the complex arrangement of all the family compounds back to back, and together with that, when you are in a family compound, like i am at the moment, it is as if nothing else exists...a world unto itself with many many small buildings some for family temple altars, some for sleeping, a communal kitchen, a bathroom, and interspersed among all the close buildings facing in all directions are lovely gardens with orchids and palm trees and tons of blossoming bushes and trees...so lovely and interesting.

to get to dewas place we had parked the car on a main road, and walked along a very narrow cement path with water rushing alongside in a canal, winding its way past all the little closed gate entryways until we reached his, and then you walk through the archway and you are in a whole other world that you didn't even know existed from the main road...that is bali...layers and layers of life inside, under around, together,

after we saw his lingum/yoni altar that he built for his meditation practice, with dragons on the sides, and all white in a tiny room, we then left for his ashram. my friend felt that it is only proper to get to know the entire person, and not just use him for transporting us, but also to see his studio and ashram. she had also asked him if he knows how indigo dye is made, and he said they have indigo flowers growing at the ashram! it was a half hour drive until we reached a small entrance with a little sign saying ashram. there he showed us around the place, where they teach yoga, have kids activities, organic gardens with rice, basil and many other spices and flowers. but no indigo,,,he had been mistaken...

again, as you walk through the gateway, you have no idea that you will be walking on and on thru so many caves and temples and rooms and streams and meditation huts.

the 4 of us were led through the temple area by dewa, as he explained how they pray each evening. he taught us the song and dance they sing as they first cleanse themselves in the spring water before entering the temple area. we could see all of the artistic carvings and paintings he has done for the temple along with other members. as we walked around the temple praying to the nandini cow statue, and then to durga and then to ganesha inside a cave, he explained the symbolism of each of the images. ganesha being the symbol of wisdom and so when he bends down on the ground and kisses the feet of the elephant sculpture it is in order to show humility, a lowering of the ego, before wisdom. hiding behind ganeshas right leg was the image of a big rat! me and my rats! when i asked him what that was, he said that it represents "doubt" which is like a rat that peeks in and scuttles around when no one is looking but you can see it sometimes coming or leaving. later we arrived at the images of guru which were placed in 4 directions symbolizing the need to disseminate the teachings of enlightenment to the whole world now...

i found it very interesting because it contains all the same elements as the kabbalah that i study.. so it doesn't really matter if i am visiting his ashram, or at a mayan calendar reading describing the role of the "world bridgers" or the "solar dragons" ...they are all speaking about the present need for everyone to connect to the higher worlds and the need for us all to awake to our higher purpose of unity and love.

i shared these thoughts with dewa. he had never heard of the kabbalah.but it was a good feeling to know that we are all striving for the same goal. i told him about the book Mount Analogue by rene dumal, and how there are many paths to the Truth, and that the important thing is that we are all walking it in the way that rings true for us.

our visit, which we thought would be an hour or two turned into a much longer trip and my friend suddenly said that we have to leave now. i was so impressed how laid back everyone was until now..no one rushed anyone, or tried to speed things up we wandered along through the studio and ashram...and i just went along wtih them all...and suddenly it was almost sunset and we had to go and just as we were about to exit the ashram we passed by a woman collecting the seeds from the basil plants. dewa introduced here as the gardener, and my friend who had been searching bali in hopes of discovering the secret ingredients for indigo dye, asked the woman if maybe she knew how it is made. and the woman laughed and said she just finished planting tons of seeds to sprout indigo plants for the ashram. my friend wanted them for her friend who is in senegal and trying to get hold of the dye for indigo. we laughed about the synchronicity of it all, on her last day in bali, as she suddenly announced that we must go back home now, and that is how we met the woman that could give her the indigo seeds, catching her just as she was walking out of the ashram....that is typical here in bali...all the time...numerous stories like that.