Things I See on My Walk Home from Mas

People. Many of whom want to know my name, where I’m going (home to Bedulu), where I’m coming from (learning mask-making), and why I’m walking so far when I could just flag down a motorcycle. Others want me to get out of their way on the street, and still more just want to know how I’ll respond when they say “hello.” Others — and this is one of the smallest categories — ignore me. A few, like the guy who shook my hand and then firmly gripped my wrist, want to sell me things or give me a ride. Those people, though, are few and far between, and I generally feel remarkably safe walking alone. Most people just want to know why I, a bule (slang for white person or tourist), am walking by, such a long way from home.

Rice, although not as much as I would expect, given that agriculture is Bali’s second-largest source of income. Along my five- or six-kilometer walk, the fields are concentrated in three or four spots. Mas is in the greater Ubud area, a huge tourist destination, so most people make a living carving masks and other things. For some reason, ducks are an especially popular subject.

Temples, at least four of them. Temples are hugely important here — just three nights ago I went to a temple festival that will last for ten nights to accommodate all the people who want to attend. I should point out that the four in my tally doesn’t include each family’s personal shrine, which would bring the count up to several hundred.

Offerings. Usually small, just a canang sari (a small square palm leaf basket filled with flowers) and a stick of incense, but frequently placed, in front of almost every house or shop. Today, though, as far as I can tell, is a holy day, and the offerings stand in small spires, honoring one god or another.

Chickens. Even when they aren’t growing rice, Balinese people pretty much always have a few chickens on hand. The chickens have free range of the yard, street, and generally the neighborhood. I still am unsure of how everyone identifies their own. They’re everywhere, and sometimes this doesn’t work out so well for them: yesterday, I passed a hen in the street, lying on her back and feebly flapping her wings after being hit by a car or motorcycle. Surprisingly, though, these chickens apparently aren’t all as dumb as they look. For the most part, very little harm comes to them.

Trash. Up until fairly recently, all Balinese trash was organic, so people just chucked it in a pile and waited for it to turn into compost. The Indonesian infrastructure doesn’t seem to have kept up with the introduction of plastics, so the trash just keeps stacking up. There’s not such thing as a dump, as far as I can tell — just piles by the road. Despite the heat, they don’t smell, probably due to the masses of chickens picking them over for food. Occasionally I also see smoke, from people burning what of their trash that they can. (Sometimes this includes what wouldn’t normally be considered “burnable” and the smell of melting plastic fills the air.)

An addendum to people: naked people. For the last stretch of the back road, before I hit the main road that runs from Ubud to Gianyar, people bathe in the canal that runs alongside it. This leads to the awkward situation of me wanting to return the greetings of the kids who shout “hello” to me, but not wanting to offend anyway by invading their privacy. Mostly, I just keep my eyes down and try to wave at the right (read: clothed) people.

Dogs. Mangy-looking ones. It’s hard to tell between the strays and the pets, because there’s a different concept of pet care here. I’m not usually afraid of dogs, but I am in Bali, because rabies is endemic and I just generally don’t trust things that growl menacingly at me. Usually, they ignore me if I ignore them, but yesterday I must have looked at one mother dog wrong, because she started chasing after me. It wasn’t until I turned around and yelled “stop!” that she did, leaving me to walk on with shaking legs and a pounding heart.

Ogoh-ogoh. This year, Nyepi (sort of the Balinese New Year) will occur in mid-March. For one day, all of Bali will fall silent to trick the demons into believing the island is uninhabited. The day before Nyepi, people make as much noise as they can, and parade around giant puppets of mythical figures, demons, and deities fighting. These puppets are ogoh-ogoh. They're huge, usually significantly larger than life-size. The neighborhood boys make them, starting a month or two before Nyepi. They weave the figure out of palm leaf, then cover it with newspaper strips and styrofoam and paint it. In the afternoon until late at night, a horde of boys gathers to work on it. Yesterday, one bunch asked for a donation, so I swapped 1000 rupiah (roughly ten cents) for a chance to paint a few stripes of white across the ogoh-ogoh’s chest.

Explosions. Some of the kids building ogoh-ogoh also build makeshift canons — basically large PVC tubes with gasoline poured into them. They shoot them off randomly, starting mid-afternoon. Yesterday, one of the older kids was nice enough to order the younger ones to hold fire while I walked by. Still, once I had passed, I steeled myself for the imminent bang. I guess even in Bali, given half the chance, kids still just like to blow shit up.

So yeah -- just a few notes about everyday life here in Bali and the things I see on a regular basis. I'm still terrified of the dogs, but hopefully I'll manage to avoid getting hit by an ogoh-ogoh-cannon.

As promised, pictures of Bedugul

The view from the road into the mountains. Usually you can pick strawberries here,
but there weren't any because it's the rainy season.

Pura Ulun Danu in Bedugul. During the dry season you can walk to it,
but right now it's effectively an island.

Sylvie, Mirah (one of our language teachers) and Frances by Lake Beratan.

A Balinese fisherman by Lake Beratan.

Sanur was good, although mostly uneventful. We befriended a Javanese kid who called himself Roger Michael Steve and may or may not have been lying all the time, since his background story was pretty ridiculous. There were also a few moments of panic when we heard about the tsunami warning, but it turned out to be no big deal (although obviously not in Chile).

Now we're back in Bedulu, returning to the standard class-topeng-hang out with homestay family pattern. I figure it might be good to say a few things about everyday Balinese life, so here goes. Bear with me if I've mentioned some of these things already.

1. Music. Balinese culture is incredibly musical -- it's not uncommon to walk past people practicing gamelan on their front porch, or to hear gamelan accompanying a ceremony until late into the night. The younger people are definitely into current music, especially punk rock, the Cranberries, and Bob Marley (I think I've heard "Buffalo Soldier" about 10 times in the last hour at this internet cafe). They all listen to music on their HP (hand phones, i.e. cell phones), but it's not uncommon for them to switch back and forth between Bob Marley, the Ramones, and traditional gamelan.

2. Originally bizarre-sounding greetings, the first of which is "mau ke mana?" which basically translates to "where are you going?" At first this comes across as an unnecessarily nosy question, but it's really just like saying "what's up?" Also, it's perfectly reasonable to reply "jalan-jalan," which means "just walking around." Another weird greeting is "sudah mandi?" which my host mother asks me all the time. It means "have you already bathed?" which at first seems really rude and made me thing I always smelled terrible. Then I realized it was basically asking if you're feeling refreshed. Balinese people bathe frequently, at least twice a day, almost always with cold water, which is in fact incredibly refreshing.

3. Marriage and babies. Although Balinese young adults are getting married later these days, my host sister-in-law is only 22 and she and her husband have an 8-month-old baby. My ibu frequently asks me if I have a boyfriend in America and teases me about getting married soon. Also, if two people are married but don't have kids, the term is always "belum" (not yet) rather than "tidak" (no) - it's assumed the couple just hasn't been married very long. (This has led to interesting conversations about the marital status of family members, etc.)

4. Ritual: a huge part of everyday life, and I would be remiss if I didn't mention something about it. Offerings are put out basically whenever food is cooked, and of course at other important times. The Balinese calendar involves a 7-day week, a 5-day week, and a 3-day weeks (as well as another system I don't really understand), and when certain days of the weeks overlap, it is a particularly auspicious time and festivals may occur. Also, every 210 days, a given temple will have an odalan, or a temple birthday, which is a big festival.

That's about it for now, but I'll post more as I think of it. Let me know if there are other things I should be talking about!

More adventures

Hi all! Apologies for the long delay in posting. On a day-to-day basis, I've been doing a lot of topeng carving. I'm done with the chiseling component of my mask, which means the face is pretty much blocked out and I've carved out the back. The next time I go, I'll begin working with knives to make the face more detailed; after that, painting begins.

I've started walking home from Mas (where the topeng-maker's workshop is) to Bedulu. It's about a 5km walk (or so I've been told) and it's easier to do that then to try to catch a bemo (public transportation) in the late afternoon. Plus, it's a nice walk -- mostly downhill, and on the back streets of Mas I get to talk to lots of people and see some cool temples and sawah (rice fields). It confuses my host family (and basically everyone else), though. My bapak keeps telling me to call him for a ride home, even when I explain that I enjoy the walk. The people along the street assume I'm lost, which can also make for some entertaining conversations.

Let's see, what else has happened in the last week or so? Last weekend I went with Sylvie (one of the other students on the program) to Klungkung to work on our "archaeological sites" paper, which basically involves going to an important cultural/historical site, exploring it, doing some research, and, of course, writing a paper. We went to Kerta Ghosa (which I may or may not be spelling correctly, apologies), which is part of the old palace in Klungkung.

Sylvie walking up to one of the buildings.

The roofs of some of the buildings are painted in the wayang (shadow puppet) style, and all tell a story. This roof has the descriptions of various punishments in hell, plus I think one of the stories from the Mahabharata (although I may be mixing it up with one of the other buildings).

Interior of a roof at Kerta Ghosa

On Wednesday, we migrated to Denpasar for three days, where we went to Udayana University and met with some of the English students there (and also attended some lectures on Balinese culture). Yesterday, we went with them to Bedugul, which is in the mountains. We went to a temple on a lake and a botanical garden: pictures in the next post when I can upload them to my computer. Now, we're on a free weekend in Sanur, which is one of the touristy/beach towns.

This morning, we went to the University for a large ceremony, since today is Saraswati day and Saraswati is the goddess of knowledge. There were a ton of people there, and a full gamelan orchestra, a dance (I forget the name of it, sorry), and, of course, many offerings and a high priest officiating. We got to take part in the prayers, which involved being sprinkled with and drinking holy water, listening to chants (we didn't know the words so we couldn't really take parts) and making offerings ourselves.

Tomorrow, it's back to Bedulu for the week for more class and topeng making. Next weekend we head to Ary's (the academic director) village for a week, then to the northern part of Bali. Stories to come!

Just a quick post

To say that topeng making is deceptively difficult. In the last 3-4 hours, I have used two different sizes of axe, a saw, and a hammer and chisel cut a block of wood into a vaguely face-shaped block of wood. (Think somewhere between the second and third masks from the left in the picture in the last post.) I am not quite as coordinated as I might have hoped. Still, I'm learning, and hopefully I'll get better at it. I am definitely much better at using the chisel than the axe.

Of course, saying that I transformed the block of wood completely by myself is a little disingenuous. The way the topeng-makers are teaching me involves showing me how to do something, letting me fumble through it for a while, then taking it from me and fixing it, and sometimes doing the next step. So at the end I'll have a mask that I took part in making, but perhaps not one that I have made completely by myself. Ah well, it's still pretty cool.

I did have a somewhat odd experience when I was there, since an American family came in to buy a mask (it's both a studio and a shop). With my meager amount of bahasa Indonesia, I ended up translating a bit for the family and the guys in the studio, especially when one of the girls in the family wanted to know if she could pet the puppies running around and the topeng-makers had no idea what she was talking about. I guess I'm learning more than I thought!

That's all for now -- sorry for the lack of pictures. Back in a few days with some more!

More homestay time, with a whole lot of artists' lectures in the last few days. We've met with several dancers (and I can assure you that I am not all that talented at Balinese dance, and that it is WAY harder than it looks), a dalang (the person who pretty much singlehandedly orchestrates the shadow puppet performances), a batik artist, and a topeng mask maker. Starting Wednesday, I'll be studying with the mask maker, learning how to make the wooden masks used in topeng dances.

The topeng maker was fascinating -- his family has, for several generations, specialized in making these masks, and he spent his childhood watching his father work. He wasn't allowed to try, though, until he was 16, because the tools for topeng making are too sharp and require enough coordination that a child can't use them. Hopefully I'll manage them, though!

The topeng maker, with masks in several stages of the process.

Some of the finished masks.

We mahasiswa (students) had a free weekend, so we went to Uluwatu, a region on the bukit (the very southern tip of the island). The ecosystem there was different -- the soil isn't as rich there and everything is sitting pretty much on top of the limestone foundation, and it's drier and hotter. It's also one of the big surfing locales, so it had a more touristy vibe. The beaches were beautiful, though. On Saturday we walked from where we were staying at Padang Padang to Dreamland Beach, which I'm going to go ahead and claim earns its name. We also went to Pura Uluwatu, one of the larger temples in the area, and narrowly escaped being jumped on by monkeys. (Seriously, the monkeys around here are mean -- when you enter the temple there are signs telling you to hide any jewelry because the monkeys will steal it.)

Sylvie and Frances at Pura Uluwatu (imitating one of the better tourist poses).


Part of Pura Uluwatu. Note the evil, evil monkeys.

And to wrap up, to answer the comments from last post:

Mom -- I definitely will give my host family your greeting. I told them that you want to come visit now because of the snow, and they informed me that you are most welcome.

Ryan -- Ubud is kind of like very mini Beijing in the touristy sense, but it's a lot smaller and also I think more artsy. My bapak and ibu totally are rockstars. They speak a little bit of English, but not a ton -- enough to facilitate our communication. Also enough for my ibu to tell me her opinions of the characters on the soap opera we watch together.

J -- not yet. I'm working on it! I hear Jimbaran is the place for seafood, though.

Righto. Don't get too snowed in, all!

The homestay begins!

Our group has shifted to Bedulu, a small town not far from the oh-so-touristy city of Ubud (where I am right now). Ubud is kind of a bizarre place after being in Kerambitan, because it's full of bule (slang for white people) and people trying to get us to take taxis. We avoid them and hop on the bemos (sort of a bus) instead. I haven't had my camera with me much since we've gotten here, but here are some pictures of Tanah Lot, a temple we went to when we were still in Kerambitan:

The temple just before sunset.

Tanah Lot is on a rocky outcropping right on the coast, so the waves end up surrounding it. Also, the sunset is amazing.

My homestay family here in Bedulu is awesome. Balinese households live in compounds rather than one main building, so there are always lots of people around. I live with my bapak and ibu (my homestay dad and mom), their oldest son and his wife and son, and their third son and his wife and 7-month-old baby. The third son is only a couple of years older than me. There is also either my bapak's or ibu's mother, who is a totally badass woman who carries 20-30 pounds on her head home from the market like it's nothing. I'm pretty sure she only speaks Balinese, because the only words I understand when she talks to me are things like "bapak."

I spend most evenings just hanging out with my homestay parents. Balinese don't eat together, so there's not a lot of hangout time surrounding meals (although the first night I was there, my bapak sat and watched me eat because he didn't want me to be sitting by myself). Before and after, though, people are pretty much always together. Two nights ago my ibu taught me how to put together dried leaves to make part of the offerings they use, and last night I watched Javanese soap operas with her and told her about the snow at home. My bapak tried to get me to smoke with him, and we talked about Rambo and Arnold Schwarzenegger movies and other movies he loves. He has about 6 roosters for cockfighting (which is illegal in Indonesia except for Balinese religious ceremonies, which means I'll get to see it at some point) that wake me up every morning at dawn (and sometimes earlier). There is also a dog that has learned that I'll pet it if it sits near me.

We have this weekend free, so the six of us are heading to Uluwatu, on the very southern tip of the island. We'll check out the temple in the area, and of course the beach. Next week I'll be back with more pictures, and no doubt some tales about mask-making and batik. (And probably some scrapes and burns -- I'm rapidly getting a reputation as the clumsiest member of the group, after stepping in a tidal pool at Tanah Lot and then stepping on a dead sea urchin a couple of days later, among many other clumsy instances.)

(Oh, and Professor Just -- I realized a couple of days ago that one of our language teachers, De Yudi, worked with the Williams winter study program. I've been hearing lots of funny stories since then!)

Righto -- sambai nanti, everyone!

Selamat sore dari Kerambitan!

Good afternoon from Kerambitan! (If you're looking at the map, Kerambitan is in Tabanan regency, in the southwest region of Bali). We're staying at Puri Saren Kangin, which is the family complex of a branch of the royal family here. Crazy, right? It's not a palace, just a large family complex with shrines and other buildings all over the place. Also some crazy birds that mimic people, and a cat that has adopted me. (We've named it Bising, which means "noisy" in bahasa Indonesia, because it yells at us all the time, especially when we're eating.) Here are some pictures:

One section of Puri Saren Kangin, where we're staying in Kerambitan. (Click for a bigger version.)

A sawah (rice field) not far from the puri. The mountain in the distance is Batukaru.

Most of our time has been spent studying bahasa Indonesia -- probably around 6-7 hours per day. As a result, it feels like we've been here for weeks, rather than just a few days. Some of our assignments have been things like going around the pasar (market), bartering for random fruit (mangosteen is quite possibly my new favorite fruit, along with another called salak, I think, or something to that effect) and other things. The people around here think we're all hilarious and tease us all the time. Today we went to the market in Tabanan and bought pakaian adat, the clothing worn for rituals and holidays.

Us in our pakaian adat. From left, Sylvie, Lucas, me, Aaron, Frances, and Lukas.

Yesterday we did our "drop-off," which is pretty much what it sounds like. The teachers dropped us each off more than walking distance from the puri, about ten minutes away from one another. We had an hour to spend walking around and talking to people. This confused most people until I told them "saya mahasiswa" -- I am a university student, at which point they started asking me all sorts of questions. One guy gave me his business card and made fun of me for not having one to give him; another told me about his job working at an Italian restaurant in Kuta. (His favorite Italian food is spaghetti.) I also learned lots of people's ages, and met several people named Wayan. Another student on the trip, Lucas, met a kid with the same birthday as him.

We haven't had much free time, what with all the bahasa study, but we have found a few hours to get to the beach. The beaches here in Tabanan are black sand and, it goes without saying, absolutely beautiful.

Would a blog post from Bali be complete without a beach photo? Actually, oddly enough, most Balinese don't like to swim.

We've also gotten a brief gamelan lesson where we learned the main melody for the Topeng dance (the mask dance). I'm not very good at it, but some of the other students on the program were much more talented. When we get to Bedulu, we all get to start an art program where we study with someone in Bedulu or Ubud. We can choose any art form we want -- I'm thinking I'd like to apprentice with the Topeng mask maker. We go to Bedulu this Saturday (we have to find our own way there by bemo, public transportation), and that afternoon will meet our host families. I'm a bit nervous, but things like the drop-off and our excursions into the pasar have definitely helped -- I'm not feeling quite as concerned about being able to communicate. Of course, I'll only really be able to communicate confidently about things like how old people are, where I'm from, and how much various things cost, but that's not too big a deal. Everything is coming quickly, and in the pasar I'm finding I speak a lot more than I think.

I'll be heading back to the puri now, as soon there will be dinner and more class. More updates to come soon, hopefully -- sampai nanti!