16 Years Later--Back to Bali

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Part 17
March 11 Ubud, Bali

The roosters call from all quarters as the sun rises over the rice paddies, making fields of flowing green almost yellow under the glowing backlight. Despite the changes wrought by many years of unbridled development of what was considered a tourist paradise, Bali still has the scenery and serenity to charm.
It is little hard to get past outward appearances here--on one hand the natural beauty of the lush palm fringed rice fields terraced up towards the holy mountains not so far off on this island where nothing is more than 50 km away; on the other the almost eerie feel of this glut of guesthouses, resorts, bungalows, and other tastefully manicured accommodations and restaurants that are, at best, 25% occupied and, more likely, house one or two guests in their now almost private compound.
It is equally hard not to compare this all to our experience 16 years ago, when we were here for several months to lead a community service trip for American high school students. Obviously, much has changed--the nicely paved roads everywhere, countless new businesses, the eradication of the charming and cheap night market, the changeover of knockoff cassette stores for knockoff CDs (sold side by side with their much more expensive authentic versions), conversion of film developing shops to internet cafes, and the ever present feel that the apparent purity of the culture becomes ever more commercialized with time.
But what tweaks this all is the devastating impact of the Kuta bombing, which somehow has scared off tourism here in a more profound way than anywhere else we have seen in the world. Given the pace of development here, this terrorism imposed moratorium on building is probably not the worst thing overall, although the impact on the economy, and individual's lives, must be great (although in typical Balinese fashion of not showing sadness, all anyone will say to us is business is a little slow). Some say this slowdown has given a chance for more thoughtful consideration of the direction of Bali tourism and development (although seeing there is still building going on, the power of the anti growth forces may be limited). All we can think is that if all these accommodations were even half full, Ubud would be overrun by tourists, garbage, and the continual need to move supplies to service the temporary population explosion.
Having only been in Bali a few days, and largely confined to the always touristy Ubud, we really haven't had much chance to stumble across the more "real" Bali we were lucky to find when here longer last time. I'm quite confident this still exists, but finding the temple ceremonies and cremations and black and white magic usually involves mostly luck and being out and about villages where these are almost daily occurrences.
For the kids, this kind of aimless wandering, with no real plan but to see what happens to be going on, is at best unsettling and more often seen as boring. The allure of the crystal blue pool beneath our room and overlooking the deep green ravine seems much more appealing, so we need to be careful to both plan somewhat firm, and seemingly fun, excursions, and to allocate sufficient time daily for pool time (which really is no great burden for us to slow down a bit and simply be more relaxed).
We arrived on Bali after a night in Hong Kong airport sleeping surprisingly well on the floor with our Cathay Pacific blankets, pillows, and eyeshades, conveniently nearby the bathrooms for what felt like an almost private fancy hotel (this was all planned as we had a 12 hour layover, arriving from Bangkok at 10 p.m. and not leaving until 10 the next morning on a near empty plane to Bali) Hong Kong airport is supposedly the best in the world for sleeping in, with these "rest lounges" scattered about, showers, and even reduced announcements at night to not disturb the slumbering "guests." Our experience did nothing to sully this reputation and we all found it quite a fun little adventure to set up camp in one of these rest areas, which, conveniently, turned out to be beside our departure gate when we rolled out of our covers in the morning.
Once here, it was an easy hour taxi trip (on the now well paved, four lane road) to Ubud, where we searched for a suitably nice spot to spend a fair bit of time here. It turns out, to Koby's frustration, we ended up at the first place we viewed, the long standing Ketut's Place, where we have the choice room up in the upper reaches of the coconut palms, with the views out the window of the ravine and rice fields beyond.
Since then, we have walked the rice paddies, tried our hand at playing gamelan in a temple in the next village, hung out at the library, logged some good pool time, and enrolled the kids in a wood carving class that engaged their interest and concentration for several hours until a couple of misplaced cuts drew enough blood to call that activity to a close for the day. In this time, with a fair bit of help from the teacher, they got a pretty good ways on making masks that they can finish up at home, with tools we are buying to continue this art from, we hope, in Vermont. We also cycled the 20 km up to Payangan (along the scenic Campuan Ridge route), the village we lived in 16 years ago when we led a group of American high school kids here on a community service trip. The school building we helped construct was still standing, and lo and behold, our host Gusti drove up right as we were leaving for a bit of a reunion. We also have eaten well, at some of the many stylish restaurants (with prices that range from downright cheap to almost regular US levels) as well as enjoying a "Balinese feast" of 15 traditional dishes served here at our abode. It is tempting to try to get away from Ubud, where we expect to find a less touristed side of the island, but it is also easy and pleasant to be here, where the food is good, the pool refreshing, and there is plenty of activities set up to keep the visitors entertained.

March 12 Ubud
Often times, the rushed pace of the tourist sharpens your eye and your senses. Individual impressions, odd incidents, telling anecdotes illuminate one's experience and shape one's memories. For the shorter trip, the contrasts to one's home life may be all the more apparent and appreciated, maybe even romanticized by the overt differences of work and vacation.
After more than six months on the road, I am not sure our senses are so sharp or our interest so piqued. It is not so much we are bored or less curious, but between balancing our efforts to have the kids feel engaged and the ´regularness" of life on the road with its "schedule" of daily new adventures and the lack of real schedules, it is easy to step back from the edge of wonder. After a steady diet of sensory laden experiences in Morocco, Israel, India, Laos, and Cambodia, very little can shock our senses, and in places like Bali, where luxury and easy travel is never far away, it is not hard to bedrawn into the life of sitting by the pool in between forays of shopping and fine dining (although I feel rather souvenir shopped out before I got here, and the abundance of stores overflowing with artwork is really too much for me to face).
Probably after pretty challenging travel for so long, we maybe are wise (or even deserving) to slow down and enjoy a little easier living. But the puritan Yankee in me makes me feel like this whole trip is a luxury afforded barely anyone else, so we must continually pay penance by avoiding the trappings of the pampered tourist and strive for some "higher" purpose of learning, limited spending, and cultural understanding. This is probably all just a superficial, self imposed construct meant to assuage the guilt of our great good fortune to be able to travel so easily and freely while others in the world are so constrained by circumstances of birth and work and other obligations.
So, on one hand we have only two months left on the road, and this seems so short. On the other hand, Koby's continual requests to go home (despite loads of happier times), the months of the four of us being together almost constantly, the daily search for things to do and the next meal out, all begin to wear a bit here and there. The rough spots are much more at the edges than the center of our experience, but I can sense a subtle shifting now that probably is part of beginning to ready us for a return to a more normal life at home, without so many new experiences every day or the ease of never having to cook or cleanup.

March 14 Ubud
Still hanging out in Ubud. Much of the time is spent at the pool, which is a welcome relief in the heat and much fun for the kids. In between swimming sessions, we manage to get out and about--yesterday we spent the better part of the day white water rafting and today most of the day we were in Batik class. We also managed to slip into a family temple ceremony, where cramped into the 200 sq. meter space, amidst all the temples and shrines, were a bunch of neighbors, a horde of offerings (including a couple of impressive 15 ft high fruit towers), a fu ll fledged gamelan orchestra, two guys in costume and masks seemingly performing for themselves (or the spirits that possessed them), a guy chatting with the shadow puppets (along with a couple assistants who managed the resting puppets after their bit of exercise), several people cooking, a videographer and another photographer, and a gaggle of others hangers about simply joining their neighbors and relatives in this annual event.
The rafting is a new venture since we were here before, but one that now occupies about 10 companies who have figured out that all this water, even in narrow rivers, is runable with inflatable rafts. And since the rapids are really only class 2 or 3, a bit of excitement can be added by bouncing the rafts off the ubiquitous rocks and boulders. The kids especially liked all these shenanigans, and the guides knew how to get them out of the boats and into the water or under cascading waterfalls to keep things amusing.
Everyone enjoyed batik class (school for today)--the kids have excellent concentration and I find that even with a bit of practice I gain confidence and a stronger sense of line and composition. And batik, like most media, has its unique parameters and opportunities that obviously can become more knowable with practice. We all were rather proud of our final products, although understanding the process better now, we know we would do some things differently next time. Both kids rather enjoy these kind of projects, so we may try this again when we return to Ubud next week.

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Photos

Rice Fields in the Morning
It is hard to get the perfect light for the rice fields. I'll keep trying

Rice and Mt Batur
Rice is always being grown here so you see all stages all in one place

Wood Carving Class
Koby pounding away with sharp tools on the way to making a mask. See how he holds the wood to understand why all our students here last time got cut all the time.

Biking the Campuan Ridge
On our way uphill to Payangan

Masked Dancer
At the temple festival, this man is possessed by the spirits

Shadow Puppets
The puppeteer puts his puppets through their paces to keep their energy up