Bali Island, an island famed for her culture and nature, has mesmerized generation of travelers (as early as 1900s) with mystery and scenery.
I finally made the first visit not long ago with my wife and the elder son.
At Ubud Alila, we are housed at a villa built in the mid-air nestling on top of the Ayung river valley. The valley is deep enough to be blocked by the thick growth of plants and trees that the river is not visible from our balcony. We can only overhear the sound of river flowing without seeing it.
My son watches the squirrels climbing from trees to trees. As a spider was weaving its web, he sung the Incy Wincy Spider. Within the reach by a stretch of hand from the balcony, I introduced my son to a ripe jackfruit overhanging from the tree standing imposingly on the slope.
Moving inside the villa, a resident frog was seen hopping next to the bath tub encircled by a rectangular indoor pond with a short elevated pavement above it connecting the bedroom to the changing room. The pond is the home to some resident goldfishes.
At night it is the sound of insect accompanied by the starry night. When the sun rise, it is the turn of the roosters performing the orchestra of cock-a-doodle-doo in a foggy morning.
I grew up in a small town. All of these were free and not novel to me. Yet it is now a paid (from daddy's pocket) Discovery Channel goes live to the two and a half year old.
*************************************************
The terraced paddy field, the volcano (Mount Batur), the beaches have all made it to the postcard depicting an idyllic and peaceful destination to relieve us temporarily from our trapping in an ever-flatter world.
Here in Bali, the farmer are still slogging, as the buffalos are still ploughing, the paddy field. The scarecrow is sprouted everywhere to deter the suspicious bird. The Balinese ducks are quacking away in herd.
The Balinese folks dress in their ritual gear are always busy attending the temple ceremony. Colorfully decorated temples with the distinctively Balinese Meru (pagoda) made of palm leaves dotted the skyline.
The most awesome of all temples is the Pura Bersakih, the so-called Mother Temple of Bali. Stood above the temples complex, one could enjoy the panoramic view of a distant skyline, as far as the sea, highlighted by the solemn Balinese Meru.
One can sense the religious seriousness and ritual purity among the Balinese Hindu still make up more than 80% of population. The fruits and flowers are carefully and conically arranged into an offering basket. The women walking gracefully to the temple ceremony had the offering carried on on their heads. The men mostly dressed in white are biking their way carrying the older folks if not their younger one.
Time has not changed.
*************************************************
The beneficiary of a localized form of Hinduism in an archipelago that have largely converted to Islam, Bali always fascinate travelers like me who regards vacation not just as an escapade but also of learning.
It shocks and puzzles me when I read of the act of "puputan" by the Balinese rulers and subjects launching suicidal charges against the deadly fire of the merciless Dutch troop.
What left was a massacre.
It still shock and puzzles me when I read of the jumping off the cliff by the Balinese dress in their ritual plain white during the anti-Communist purge in 1965-66.
What left was a bloodbath.
Have these spirits rested? Maybe not and maybe never ever.
*************************************************
I just read of a traveler story on a spiritual tax that one holiday home builder has to pay to the village head to build a villa house in Bali. The plot of land is encumbered to the existing right of the spiritual residents. The construction of of infinity pool will have to be scrapped and relocate elsewhere for it might violate the spiritual occupants. This makes an interesting topic on land law.
At our friend's wedding at a palatial resort at Uluwatu hanging on top of a magnificent cliff with an awesome view of Indian ocean, a village elder dressed in the ritual white was introduced to me as the rain stopper. He had earlier prayed and made offering to keep the rain away from spoiling the wedding party.
Unscientific he maybe, there was no rain that evening.
******************************************
Traveling on the small roads criss-crossing the island, one cannot fail to notice the flags of political parties displayed from the villages to towns. There are always hung by a tall bamboo pole.
If the number of flags flown is the poll for the election next year, Bali favors the red flag of the PDI (of ex President Magawati) over the blue flag of DP (SBY, abbreviation of a mouthful of President Susilo Bambang Yodhoyono) and then the yellow flag of Golkar.
Being a tourist paradise for many Westeners and supposedly an infidel island, Islamic terrorists have unkindly planted two bombs in 2002 and 2005 that have taken several hundred lives and crippled the tourism industry.
Recovery in tourism takes as much as time as the memory takes to fade, according to my taxi driver, Chalik.
He is still haunted by the 2002 bombing incident. He was chartered by a Middle Eastern honeymoon couple on Oct .12, the day when the bomb went off in Kuta. The couple had wanted to go to the famous Kuta strip that night but he turned it down as he had had a long day chauffeuring them.
Being a Hindu, he thanked his lucky star for surviving unscratched. Predictably he chose to stay home and didn't go to work on the recent Oct 12.
******************************************
Staying three nights at Oberoi in the comfort of modern trapping and connectivity, I had the privy to the CNN news which was denied to me at Ubud.
Where is the escape after all, you may ask?
As the CNN brings more breaking news, I contrast that with the story from the epics of Mahabharata and Ramayana and wonder what have we changed in the millenniums in between that have passed?
Isn't the same obsession for power, for control?
Isn't the same innermost inclination for peace, and for love?
I finally made the first visit not long ago with my wife and the elder son.
At Ubud Alila, we are housed at a villa built in the mid-air nestling on top of the Ayung river valley. The valley is deep enough to be blocked by the thick growth of plants and trees that the river is not visible from our balcony. We can only overhear the sound of river flowing without seeing it.
My son watches the squirrels climbing from trees to trees. As a spider was weaving its web, he sung the Incy Wincy Spider. Within the reach by a stretch of hand from the balcony, I introduced my son to a ripe jackfruit overhanging from the tree standing imposingly on the slope.
Moving inside the villa, a resident frog was seen hopping next to the bath tub encircled by a rectangular indoor pond with a short elevated pavement above it connecting the bedroom to the changing room. The pond is the home to some resident goldfishes.
At night it is the sound of insect accompanied by the starry night. When the sun rise, it is the turn of the roosters performing the orchestra of cock-a-doodle-doo in a foggy morning.
I grew up in a small town. All of these were free and not novel to me. Yet it is now a paid (from daddy's pocket) Discovery Channel goes live to the two and a half year old.
*************************************************
The terraced paddy field, the volcano (Mount Batur), the beaches have all made it to the postcard depicting an idyllic and peaceful destination to relieve us temporarily from our trapping in an ever-flatter world.
Here in Bali, the farmer are still slogging, as the buffalos are still ploughing, the paddy field. The scarecrow is sprouted everywhere to deter the suspicious bird. The Balinese ducks are quacking away in herd.
The Balinese folks dress in their ritual gear are always busy attending the temple ceremony. Colorfully decorated temples with the distinctively Balinese Meru (pagoda) made of palm leaves dotted the skyline.
The most awesome of all temples is the Pura Bersakih, the so-called Mother Temple of Bali. Stood above the temples complex, one could enjoy the panoramic view of a distant skyline, as far as the sea, highlighted by the solemn Balinese Meru.
One can sense the religious seriousness and ritual purity among the Balinese Hindu still make up more than 80% of population. The fruits and flowers are carefully and conically arranged into an offering basket. The women walking gracefully to the temple ceremony had the offering carried on on their heads. The men mostly dressed in white are biking their way carrying the older folks if not their younger one.
Time has not changed.
*************************************************
The beneficiary of a localized form of Hinduism in an archipelago that have largely converted to Islam, Bali always fascinate travelers like me who regards vacation not just as an escapade but also of learning.
It shocks and puzzles me when I read of the act of "puputan" by the Balinese rulers and subjects launching suicidal charges against the deadly fire of the merciless Dutch troop.
What left was a massacre.
It still shock and puzzles me when I read of the jumping off the cliff by the Balinese dress in their ritual plain white during the anti-Communist purge in 1965-66.
What left was a bloodbath.
Have these spirits rested? Maybe not and maybe never ever.
*************************************************
I just read of a traveler story on a spiritual tax that one holiday home builder has to pay to the village head to build a villa house in Bali. The plot of land is encumbered to the existing right of the spiritual residents. The construction of of infinity pool will have to be scrapped and relocate elsewhere for it might violate the spiritual occupants. This makes an interesting topic on land law.
At our friend's wedding at a palatial resort at Uluwatu hanging on top of a magnificent cliff with an awesome view of Indian ocean, a village elder dressed in the ritual white was introduced to me as the rain stopper. He had earlier prayed and made offering to keep the rain away from spoiling the wedding party.
Unscientific he maybe, there was no rain that evening.
******************************************
Traveling on the small roads criss-crossing the island, one cannot fail to notice the flags of political parties displayed from the villages to towns. There are always hung by a tall bamboo pole.
If the number of flags flown is the poll for the election next year, Bali favors the red flag of the PDI (of ex President Magawati) over the blue flag of DP (SBY, abbreviation of a mouthful of President Susilo Bambang Yodhoyono) and then the yellow flag of Golkar.
Being a tourist paradise for many Westeners and supposedly an infidel island, Islamic terrorists have unkindly planted two bombs in 2002 and 2005 that have taken several hundred lives and crippled the tourism industry.
Recovery in tourism takes as much as time as the memory takes to fade, according to my taxi driver, Chalik.
He is still haunted by the 2002 bombing incident. He was chartered by a Middle Eastern honeymoon couple on Oct .12, the day when the bomb went off in Kuta. The couple had wanted to go to the famous Kuta strip that night but he turned it down as he had had a long day chauffeuring them.
Being a Hindu, he thanked his lucky star for surviving unscratched. Predictably he chose to stay home and didn't go to work on the recent Oct 12.
******************************************
Staying three nights at Oberoi in the comfort of modern trapping and connectivity, I had the privy to the CNN news which was denied to me at Ubud.
Where is the escape after all, you may ask?
As the CNN brings more breaking news, I contrast that with the story from the epics of Mahabharata and Ramayana and wonder what have we changed in the millenniums in between that have passed?
Isn't the same obsession for power, for control?
Isn't the same innermost inclination for peace, and for love?
1 comment:
I like Bali. I believe a place like that is a rarity in the world today: spiritual but non-judgmental; gentle but not without strength; non-material but not in poverty; humanity but not in conflict with nature; of faith but not fatalistic; in this world but not of this world; wisdom in ignorance; ignorance in wisdom; dignity without arrogance. It is our good fortune we have a place like Bali in the world.
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