The West in Bali

This morning when I went to visit Mitha, her father said she had gone to the elementary school where there was a goodbye party for the headmaster. He mentioned that there might be some modern dance performance there, if I would like to see. Never one to miss an opportunity to try and understand the Balinese, I quickly walked over to the schoolyard. When I arrived at the entrance I could hear the gleeful sound of many children and adults, and so I followed it into the nearby classroom, which was bursting at the seams with children and adults of all ages, standing together like sardines in a box, watching some dance at the far end of the large room. Mitha was standing right at the entrance (the usual Balinese synchronicity that I experience ) so I tapped her shoulder to say hello, and immediately went outside to watch from the windows where more people were gathered, but at least I would have some air and a chance to get closer.

When I found a good view I was surprised to see three young eleven year old girls, dressed in halter tops and skin tight short shorts, their long black hair falling on their bare shoulders, doing hip hop dancing to some hip hop music. The funny thing was that they had pan face expressions (no smiles) and were doing all of the seductive modern dance movements with their hips and shoulders and hands, but ….it was empty! There was no sexuality in it. There was no teasing or ego or "look at me, I am a star!" energy in it. The crowds were photographing with their cell phones and cameras, and the two rows of eight male teachers sitting in the front row seats, watched with slight smiles on their faces.

After five hip hop songs and varied choreography that was quite impressive technically, the second group of dancers came on stage. Now it was six children dressed up western style, as couples; boys and girls with gold hearts pasted on their cheek. The crowds roared as they saw the boy with a beret, and the sports coat, with large spectacles, and another one with a sporty hat and tie, the girls with flimsy sexy clothing, and wild hair do. The three "couples" proceeded to imitate discotheque dancers and every time one of the young 12 year old boys put his hand on the girls waist or shoulder the crowds shouted from excitement! The music was the latest in romantic and electronic music, as were the movements, but here again, the mimicking was perfect, but the "insides" were Balinese…

After another five well choreographed and performed dances by the couples, a female teacher said a quick farewell to everyone and the crowds poured out, happy after the entertaining show. Mitha and I hopped onto her motorbike and as we drove to her place, she asked how I enjoyed the performance. I told her that we will speak once we get home since I have much to say.

When we arrived at her simple thatch house in the dirt compound among the banana and coconut trees, with the chickens running about and the pig and cow in the back, I asked her "Do you know how to dance like that too?" "Oh, No!!" she shuddered and shyly laughed! Mitha has studied classical Balinese dancing for a number of years. I asked her why she doesn't know how to dance like that. And she quietly said that what interests her is Balinese culture and life style. I started to tell her how enlightening the show was for me. That to be in Bali, watching young Balinese children imitating westerners at a going away party for their schoolmaster, was a great opportunity to see how very very different both cultures are. When I am here for so long, I forget the differences, but seeing how these young innocent children that have been exposed to western "Kulture" imitate us was a real lesson. I was relieved to see that they are very good at imitating the external movements, and did quite a repertoire, but the very essence of the origin of these movements, which is based entirely on the "tango" between men and women and all of the sexual innuendos that accompany it, were absent.

I was worried that soon Bali will also become just like the rest of the western world since fifty percent of the population is foreigners, but I was quickly reassured that I am wrong. A German resident from southern Bali who joined me at lunch later, shared how at the discotheques in the touristy south, the young adult Balinese do indeed know how to imitate all of the latest dances and behavior from the west, but their insides are still so naïve and traditional. He noticed the same thing that I did; that the Balinese themselves are deeply rooted in their own culture, in spite of the strong modern influences. They are more like little children, no matter how old they are, simply playing and laughing and men and women feeling comfortable and natural with each other, self confident in their bodies and without much need to flaunt or prove it to anyone. The men are men, the women are women, but it is a very comfortable type of energy that surrounds it all. The men can walk around with just a sarong around their waists, bare chested, and looking very sexy, but it is just who they are, and their lifestyle, and not in order to be macho. Why their bodies are often covered with multiple tattoos, I haven't yet investigated. And the Balinese women look elegant in their see -through brocade blouses and sarongs with their black hair up in a bun with a flower in it, as they walk tall and proud with offerings on their head to the temple. And yes, there is flirting and people having affairs and pregnant teenagers that need to marry quickly, but it seems like the inner source of their lives, which is strongly connected to their Hindu traditions, has deep roots, in spite of the superficial western emptiness. Their smiles are genuine. Their ability to sing and dance without ego involved, but just because they have been gifted with this ability and bring it to their surroundings is refreshing and admirable. Mithas father summed it up" Yes, we have televisions and cell phones and computers now, all because of the West, but we can elect how to use them. In themselves, they are harmless and can be helpful, but we must select the things that are good for us. The western style dancing you saw today was just a way to laugh and have fun once a year."

Kind of like how we dress up on Purim and do all kinds of silly skits exaggerating types that are quite different than who we really are. Another glimpse of the Balinese in the "still authentic" village of Tejakula.

the gentle gardener, Made

I am in awe.

I just stopped Made while he was bent over and cleaning the pathway of the dried leaves, and asked him why he isn't sitting with everyone at the first "team meeting". He smiled and stopped working and crouched down and explained to me;

"When you do talking and decide on something. You must do it. Now it is your responsibility. You have list. You must do it. I have list, so I will do it. The others now just talking talking, so I don't stay. They say "Who will bring the coconuts? Who will cut the banana leaves?" It is not on anybody's list, so now just talking talking. Maybe the girls must do it. "

"Yes, Made, that is right. I always ask you for banana leaves and palm leaves for the offerings, and it isn't on your list, maybe you do not have time to do that for me. Yesterday I needed the banana leaves but you hadn't cut them for me yet, so I cut them myself! But when I cut them I was so sad because I cut one off that had a little caterpillar rolled up in it and I felt so bad for it."

"Yes, I see that Eileen has cut banana leaf yesterday. If this, banana (and he takes one thin bamboo stick of his little sweeping broom and designates it) then here (and he motions to the next three thin bamboo sticks that are behind the one that he has singled out) Eileen cut new leaf from behind. Good to cut first banana leaf next to banana. That leaf slowly bend over, not so important now that banana comes. Back leaf can be important. Not know if new banana come there or not, but if cut leaf, no banana can come, only if cut half leaf, then still can grow and help banana. Eileen cut whole leaf, now water can come and make banana sick."

"Oh, no, Made! So how I cut the leaf yesterday wasn't good. I'm sorry."

Made just smiled. This is how gentle the people here are. He didn't come up to me with an angry face or voice and accuse me or tell me that I just killed the banana plant. Only because I started to ask him about why he is not at the team meeting, did he gently explain to me how to cut the leaf next time. I marveled at his knowledge, how he is so in tune with the plants and understands their cycles and the importance of the plant parts and their overall nature. This is not the first time he has shared his childlike stories of nature with me. Usually after he has been accused of forgetting to water plants, he does not defend or justify anything. He remains silent and present, while being accused. And then a few days later I may point out a plant that has died and ask him what he thinks happened, since it looked so healthy a few days before, and he crouches down again, like with the broomstick, and gently opens up the stalk or a leaf or digs a bit in the earth to show me that an insect has entered and eaten the plant from the roots or insides. He doesn't uproot it, he lets the insect also live inside the dead plant. Each creature has its role to play in the ecology of the garden, and he just tends it to the best of his ability, respecting it all, aware of it all, a partner in this Garden of Eden.

by the sea

At sunrise I was walking from the compound to the small temple next door to place an offering of gratitude for another day of life and nutrition for all of us, when my heart melted as Made's little one year old son was walking with his 6 year old sister on the dirt path from their compound behind the resort, towards the sea. Little barefoot feet and such a sweet little boy, shy to suddenly see me standing there watching him, as he plodded along still learning how to walk steadily on his own. Ketut, the 6 year old sister, smiled and said hello to me and tried to encourage him to continue their morning walk out to the sea. I carried on with my round of offerings and quickly changed clothes so I could go out and watch the two of them alone playing by the sea.

As I got there, Made had just arrived to work at the resort and quietly motioned to his daughter to bring the baby ashore, and not so close to the small lapping waves. I came out to do my Tai chi on the patch of black sand that luckily appeared this morning from the tide, amongst all the stones and rocky shoreline. I love watching babies and how they do things, so instead of starting with my exercises I just stood there, watching the 2 children, doing whatever it was they were doing. Ketut was busy collecting little stones and flowers and focused on the micro world of the shore, while her baby brother had bigger visions and after having picked up a big stone to hold in his hand, he headed to the waves. Each time that his little barefoot feet lost their footing among the rocks, he would lower himself down, recenter and then rise up straight and tall and continue towards the big blue sea.

I marveled at the simple trust that surrounded it all….the mother, who was up since 4, cooking , cleaning, taking care of all of the animals, and who gone off to the market, leaving her daughter, Ketut to take care of her little brother for a while. And Made, doing what he had to do in the morning for his family, and then walking over to the resort to begin his work at 6:30. And the kids headed off to the sea.

The fact that there are no life guards, no flags telling you by their color if the sea is dangerous today or not, no signs warning that swimming is forbidden without supervision, etc, seems to leave it up to the individual to take responsibility, to be aware of the signs from Mother Nature. The Balinese go into the sea with their clothes on, or, the boys with just underpants….no one has bathing suits. If you want to go swimming or play in the water, you just do. Usually there are just a bunch of kids splashing around, teaching themselves how to swim, or just having fun, unsupervised. There is always lots of laughter in the air when the kids are by the sea. The fishermen are coming in and out with the boats, some men usually decide to wash themselves in the sea, and just undress and do just that, while they sit in the water until "the coast is clear" to get out and put their clothes on, or else they just cup a hand around their private parts and nonchalantly walk over to their pile of clothes, believing they are invisible if they are naked. Or possibly that someone's body is just a body, and there does not seem to be a lot of sexual connotations going on.

As I continued to watch the little one year old getting closer to the shoreline and wondered what he would do then, his sister intuitively raised her head and quietly walked over and tried to take his hand and head him back inland. But he was a determined little fellow and gently pulled his hand away and continued to the sea. After a few attempts to sway him in the other direction she just bent down and picked him up and placed him some 4 meters from the waves. Again, she was busy looking at the little pebbles and flowers on shore, and he was busy heading towards the waves. No words were exchanged, but as he again arrived at the shoreline she intuitively looked around and silently walked over to him, bent over and placed him on her little back and the quietly returned home. I was so surprised that there was no crying, no scolding, no threatening, no bribing, and no struggling. Just doing what needs to be done with love.

I wondered afterwards how the parents relate to all of this potentially "dangerous" playing by the sea. And I realized that there seems to be such a strong natural instinctual connection with nature in their lifestyle, and also perfect faith in God and karma and destiny, that when you put it all together, you just seem to have a society of people that are not fear based in nature. Their tri-daily offerings of gratitude and prayer, their greeting each other with "Safe morning" or "Safe evening", while we westerners prefer "Good morning" and "Good evening" seems to reflect an awareness of the transience of life and together with that a communion with it in a most natural and trusting way.

the realization of hopes.

When I first started to participate in the Balinese ceremonies my mind was flooded with questions. I thought I must find one of the priests that speak English and that is willing to share the meanings of all of the ritual and intentions. But nothing ever happened with it and I kind of resigned myself to the fact that I will just have to pick up bits and pieces from whoever I meet at a ceremony, or the staff here, or….while hoola hooping on the beach!

That is how I first met Ketut. I was hoola hooping on the beach and he came by with his wife and 3 children and they spoke English and we struck up a conversation. They all joined in learning how to hoop and we had a lot of fun. He was in his 30's and spoke quietly, gently, and respectfully. I thought; "this is someone that could answer my questions!" but they soon went home and that was that.

Then about a month and a half ago I slammed my thumb in a car door and he saved the day, being a nurse, and lovingly and carefully headed me back to health. His wife applied to work as part of the staff here at the resort. I was so happy, since she is such a positive giving person who speaks excellent English. I was glad we would be in contact again. As the days went by she invited me to participate in a ceremony with them, and taught me how to make the palm leaf decorations used on full moon and dark moon offerings. As I struggled with the shapes and thin bamboo sticks used to "pin" things together, ketut happened to come by to visit his wife and knelt down next to me and quietly whispered words of encouragement. "When you make these offerings you can turn your attention inwards, instead of letting the outer world take our attention all the time. That is why we spend much of our day preparing offerings. it develops an inner peace and quiet. There we find God, as we look within." He began to explain why the shapes are the way they are and all about Hinduism and the Balinese lifestyle. His words were like poems….I tried to grasp on to them so I could blog about it later, but all that was left each time was a soft feeling, but no intellectual ideas I could quote.

Each time I happened to go to their simple home, where he took care of the children (12, 5, 2) while his wife worked 9 hour shifts at the resort, I would receive some more pearls of wisdom from him, in his humble, smiling way, since he knew that I was interested in the lifestyle here. The other day I told him about quantum matrix healing….which I had used on my foot for a fungus along with a cream he had given me. He could not understand how it had healed in only one day, instead of the usual week's time. I told him that I had also used my own healing method and together, it worked quickly! He was interested to learn about it, along with the Tibetan breathing exercises I do every day, since he believed that if we can breathe calmly and deeply we can live peacefully and have much inner power to live our lives with.

Today I wanted to help his wife as she made snowflake-ish Christmas decorations, Balinese style. And while I sat there struggling with that darn thin bamboo stick that always bends and breaks and splits as I try and connect a few palm leaves together (instead of our modern stapler that does it quicker and easier, but not as "authentically") he smiled and quietly said "One month, two months, slowly you will gain patience and skill and be like the Balinese. "

His wife asked me if I would like to be their adopted "mama", since her family lives far away, and so does his, and so does mine, and that way I wouldn't be alone for ceremonies….I told her I will think about it. She spoke seriously. I don't know if I am that serious…when her husband joined us a little later and was explaining to me the symbolic meaning of colors in Hinduism and the importance of the sun and moon ceremonies, I was so impressed, that I asked him how he knows all of this? He said that when he was a child in school he had a teacher that taught them all of this and he had always hoped that one day he would have foreign friends that he would be able to share it with….and now, 25 years later, when he met me hoola hooping on the beach, he thought "Now I will have my foreign friend that I always wanted, so I can share my lifestyle with them and they will share theirs with me!" He continued," To have a friend is much more important than having money. When it is raining and you are without an umbrella in a village far from home, and you are hungry, all you need is to knock on the door of your friends house. The sea is an example of friendship; always welcoming anything that comes to it, the waves, the rain, rubbish, naked bathers, offerings. Also friendship always welcomes whatever comes to it. We do not have money, but we are happy people and happy to have you as our friend."

So….i realized that I too was realizing my hope of having someone that was knowledgeable and could teach me in English all the things that I wanted to learn….and in such a lovely way. Thank you !

as time goes by

things are changing...it is seven months that i have been at this resort in bali. during this time my days have been made up pretty much of the same stuff; waking before dawn to sit on the stoney shore to watch the predawn sky and sunrise, hearing the chanting in the background from five to five thirty of one of the village singers. then at 6:30 preparing and making the little banana leaf offerings in gratitude for the nutrition we receive each day (made up of our western version of a little triangle of bread with another little triangle of papaya, pineapple, watermelon, or banana placed on top of it. the balinese just put a teaspoon of cooked white rice, since that is their nutrition), then exercising, meditating, breakfast, and then....watching the sea, feeling the wind, noticing the sun shining on the fishing nets, e-mailing, swimming, and just kind of letting the day unfold.

i can't say whether i "hear voices" or that my mind is just so empty that when a though grabs my attention i just go to it, or what...but "something" catches my attention and since i usually don't really have any plans for the day i just follow it. so that is how the first photos of the fishing nets here on the shore, began. i was walking along the shore with my girlfriend, and "the voice" said: take photos of those fishing nets. well...for who? why? what? but, being an obedient kid, i just started to look at the fishing nets to see what am i supposed to be taking photos of, and sure enough, they were pretty amazing...so feminine, and layered, and delicate, and shimmering, and just being! so out came the camera and the first series of fishing net photos was born. (since then there are 9 more, but i decided not to burden my family and friends with them all....unless someone really wants to see them). i have no idea what i am supposed to do with all of these fishing net photos, other than to enjoy having them call out to me in order for me to photograph them! which already is satisfying enough for me! and this morning, as i sat out on my bale overlooking the sea, the voice called out again and told me there are some more fishing nets that need to be photographed....so out i went and tried to find them.

i wondered if it is all just my imagination that they are so human and magnificent and are telling such stories...so i took a photo of a net, that was my own initiative too....just to see that not every single net "sings". and while i was walking on the hot rocks and sand around the fishing boats on shore that had already done their duty in the early hours of the morning and were now relaxing until sunset when their owners would take them out to sea again, or sit nearby and mend the nets, the boats themselves also began to "call out"...and i saw that they too had their story to tell; of layers and layers of paint they had been painted with, and with all the taut rope that was tied so beautifully on some of them, holding the handmade parts all together, or a name painted on their seat, or inside of it, or the dried coconut leaf that was laying on top of the fishing net as a little blanket that the fisherman placed there to express his property, even out here on the open beach, without a soul around during the heat of the day.

as time goes by i am slowly "hearing" the unspoken language of these balinese villagers. the stories are very humble, subtle, quiet. no big banners or signs or noise made while doing it....like the pile of big round rocks that i noticed this morning at the base of the coconut tree. they too called out so that i would notice their lovely shapes and beauty all piled together there. so i photographed them, and continued to walk on the shore.

i was in a state of gratitude for this absolutely perfect shoreline right in front of the resort. it has tall coconut trees that supply us with our daily fresh coconut water from the young coconuts, or with the coconut milk and meat from the older ones, and also offers shade. and scattered in between them are huge beautiful old trees, as high as the coconut ones, and with big green leaves and all kinds of exotic fruits or flowers that fall to the ground.

yesterday i had gone out on a fishing boat along the coast to the east, and was able to view it all from a distance. and even though we went along for an hour or so, none of the coastline was as beautiful as the one we started from. it was then that i realized that those huge beautiful shady trees that bring me so much pleasure, are the secret ingredient for the perfect place. i never take them for granted, but i never actually went out of my way to personally go up to one of them and thank them. and now, as i continued on my walk along the shore, after having marveled at the pile of rocks, i saw the neighbor woman out and about, placing her offerings at the next door temple, and then....to my surprise, in a little niche in the trunk of the tree that i was standing next to. why is she doing that? i had again "heard" something say to just look up and notice this amazing tree. so i did. and when i did, i saw that the remains of a gold cloth that had once been tied around the trunk to symbolize its sacredness, was now just a dangling strip from one of the higher branches, swaying in the wind. ah ha! i'm not the only one that thinks this tree is special! and after the neighbor continued on her way, having left her little square of banana leaf with rice offering in the trunk, i decided to have a closer look. yes...she had placed hers on top of all the others from yesterday and the day before. and then i realized that often i had seen the women and children walk over to that tree first, and then over to a fishing boat, and then on to the temple....and not realized that they were placing offerings of gratitude and recognition there each day, quietly, simply. but somehow those little quiet simple acts of gratitude make my heart very happy. like yesterday when i got onto the boat to go for the ride and soon noticed the little offering placed at the end of the boat on the worn down wood, i was happy to know that boat had been blessed before we went out to sea with it.

reflecting on how is it possible that i have been around this tree for seven months already, and never saw those old pieces of gold cloth hanging from the upper branches, or the small offerings hidden in the trunk? what else is happening here behind the scenes all of the time that still remains to be discovered, slowly, as each of mother natures creations begins to speak to me? and as i walked back to the entrance to the compound where i live, i passed by the coconut tree with the pile of rocks at its base, but this time i saw it from behind. and suddenly comprehended that that pile of lovely rocks has purposely been placed at the base of just that tree, and not another, in order to support the sloping trunk so that it will not uproot itself in the future....little anonymous acts of respect for nature.