Beautiful Bali – Finding Culture and Customs. And Monkeys. Lots of Monkeys.

Bali.   Picture this beautiful island situated in the exotic country of Indonesia. One island in the more than 17,000 islands (no, that’s not a typo – 17 THOUSAND islands!!!) that make up this diverse and gorgeous country of over 267 million people (the 4th largest country in the world, believe it or not!).  You’ll find never-ending beaches of golden white sand or hot black crushed lava sand.  Secret coves of cerulean blue waves crashing on the shore.  Surfers hanging ten on an epic wave.  Palm trees, coconuts, sunshine and tropical flowers…all true, all to be found on Bali. (Pronounced by the locals btw, as Ba-LEE, with the accent on the LEE).

And all is good in the land of Bali. There are hundreds of delicious restaurants, quirky bars, glamorous boutiques full of surfwear and sandals – but where can I find out about the culture? What are all the little packets on the street, filled with flowers, cigarettes and mints?  What’s with the graceful bamboo poles waving in the warm breeze, bending under the weight of intricate palm decorations? Statues of grimacing gargoyle-types flank doorways everywhere. Umbrellas on graves. Why? What’s the reason behind all these things?  Inquiring minds wanna know! I found the answers to my questions, but really had to dig to discover – asking locals, googling, and doing plain ol’ fashioned research.

So, if you are a curious soul and you’d like to know the reasons behind some of these customs, read on!  (If not, I completely understand…scroll through and enjoy the beautiful pictures, though!)

OFFERINGS

Every morning, and sometimes more often than that, offerings are set out in the homes and businesses as well as on the streets and sidewalks in front of homes or businesses, and even inside the cars of the Balinese.

Depending on the size of the home, sometimes 25 of these offerings packets are placed around.  They are made of folded palm leaves or banana leaves, and contain fresh flowers, incense, rice, perhaps a coin, and maybe a cigarette and a mint.

These offerings are called canang sari. They are Hindu offerings to the gods, asking for peace and abundance, and giving thanks for what they have, as well as asking for protection from evil spirits. In the early morning, they are swept up (remember – always, always sweeping here in Southeast Asia!) and replaced.

PENJOR

Penjor is the name for the tall beautiful bamboo poles bending gracefully across the roads, waving in the tropical breezes. On our way from Ubud to Amed, we saw hundreds of these lining the streets for an upcoming “ceremony” – there’s always a ceremony here!

Penjor are to symbolize the dominance of good (dharma) over evil (adharma) as well as to offer thanks to the gods. In addition, penjor show devotion to Sang Hyang Widhi Wasa (the God of the mountain). The curved part of the penjor is meant to symbolize Mount Agung, the highest mountain in Bali and considered the home of the gods.

 

 

 

UMBRELLAS ON GRAVES

I wondered why there were colorful umbrellas perched on some of the graves in the local cemeteries.  Was it for good luck? To protect the dead from evil spirits? To indicate wealth? Turns out to be no big mystery…to keep the deceased cool! 🙂

CEREMONIES

The day I arrived in Bai was a special ceremonial day – a day to have the metal objects in your daily life blessed. Knives and tools and whatnot… but mostly cars and scooters.  Vehicles sported palm decorations hanging from their mirrors, dashboard, and grill. This day is known as Tumpek Landep and takes place every 210 days.  (Welcome to Bali!)

Another ceremony I was fortunate enough to be able to view was the water purification at Pura Tirtha Empul, a temple just outside Ubud. My young friends Jessie,  James and I went on a tour from our hostel to see the water temple but had no idea it would be teeming with faithful people celebrating and offering thanks.

There had been a cremation ceremony earlier that day – one of the most important ceremonies for the Balinese, who viewed cremation as a very special, holy event, oftentimes delayed for years until enough money could be saved to perform the cremation.  The body will have been buried since death, awaiting the time a cremation could be performed.

Hundreds of Hindu faithful flocked to the water temple, to pray, make offerings and make the rounds through the spouts of water cascading into the pools.  It was so very moving to see, hear and observe as the pools were completely full of worshippers, patiently waiting their turn at each spout.

Besides the water ceremony, the Balinese gathered at the temple to pray, chant and be together.  You can see below that they are in beautiful ceremonial garb – lace blouses with shimmering satin sashes and sarongs for the women, and the men with their heads wrapped in pristine white fabric and wearing beautiful sarongs as well.

But the biggest thrill was to be able to be the only Westerner at another more private ceremony – the one performed at the studio of the batik artist where I had my class.  Rather than not being available for the time I had requested to take the batik class, the owner had me come early (9 am) so that we could be finished in time for the blessing of his offerings pavilion he had recently constructed.  The plan was for me to do the batik from 9-11, go back to the hostel and hang out, and then be retrieved by Wayan, the son, to finish the project after 2 pm.  But once we got rolling with the batiking and 11 am came, I got up the courage to ask to stay and watch the ceremony.  And was allowed.

There was fire.  There was water.  There were flowers.  And so many offerings! Palm leaves braided into intricate ropes.  Baskets made of banana leaves with fresh eggs placed atop local flowers such as frangipani – eggs to represent the moon.  Betel leaves folded into packets and more palm leaves, with a sprinkling of dried pananharum (sp?) on top. Marigolds, gathered from the fields upon fields of the sunshiny orange flowers we passed on the roadside, grown specifically for use in offerings.  Small oranges. Pastries. Coins strung together with colorful thread and wrapped around the top of a melon which had stubbly pegs stuck into the fruit’s circumference from which to hang the coins.  Off to the side, young men burned bamboo and firewood.

The patriarch used a ladder to insert palm leaves folded like roses into each of the 4 corners of the pavilion. The women of the family paraded around the compound placing incense and offerings everywhere while chanting.

All the while, a holy man, called a pemangku, prepared items for the ceremony.  He used a sharpie to write and draw on a brick, then wrapped it in a clean white cloth, and tied it with a saffron-colored ribbon.  This he placed it in the foundation of the pavilion.  He did the same with a large round, smooth stone. (Notice the gorgeous piece of batik artwork behind him, created by the man I took my class from.)

After this, he sat in the pavilion, cross-legged, and fell into a trance while chanting.  He rang a brass bell and tossed flower petals while swaying and mumbling in a sing-song way.  Hopefully, this link to the video works.

What a privilege to be able to witness a private ceremony such as this!  I thanked the hosts, retrieved my batik from the drying rack (more on that in a minute…) and headed back to the hostel, entranced and grateful to have seen this ancient cultural ceremony.

NAMING OF BALINESE CHILDREN

Wow, was everyone here named Wayan? I was a bit perplexed, until this explanation was given: The first born are named Wayan, Putu, or Gede, or for a girl, Ni Luh. Wayan is a Balinese name meaning “eldest”. Second born children are named Made, Kadek, or Nengah. Made and Nengah mean madya or “middle”. Kadek means “little brother” or “little sister”. The third born is given the name Nyoman or Komang. These names may be shortened to “Man” and “Mang” respectively. Fourth born children are named Ketut. Ketut is often shortened to “Tut”. And my favorite…. If there is a fifth child in the family, she is often called Wayan Balik -meaning “Wayan again”.  😂

MONKEYS

Looking for a bit of culture, we headed to the sacred monkey forest just on the fringe of Ubud.  Full of temples and hundreds of monkeys, it’s a ‘must see’ in Ubud.  We were told not to engage with the monkeys, or bring food or drinks in our bags as the monkeys will take your water bottle, open your backpack and help themselves to your snacks if they smell them!

The monkeys were everywhere! The park is called Padangtegal Mandala Wisata Wanara Wana Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary.  It contains (besides monkeys) three beautiful Hindu temples, built in the 1300s.  Well maintained trails lead to each of the temples, and although it was hot as hell that day, it was somewhat cooler in the sanctuary.  But not much.

I had read that at least one person per day gets bit by a monkey, so we were somewhat on edge as we hiked through the preserve.  Luckily, no monkey attacks for us (although a girl from our hostel got bit the next day on her neck; the park officials were less than interested in helping her or offering advice, so she got a cab to the hospital to get rabies shots and antibiotics just in case!)

And of course, we had to do the “see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil” reenactment while there!

                                                                               🙈 🙉 🙊

BATIK

And finally, for one more cultural experience to add to the Bali trip, I signed up for a batik class here in Ubud as mentioned above. In the US, we say bah-tique, with the accent on the second syllable.  But here in Indonesia, it’s pronounced bat-ick, with the emphasis on the first syllable.  (Haha. That’s a line from a Mike Meyers movie! Not about batik…about syllables…never mind!) Batik is an artistic process that originated in Indonesia and has been in use for over 2000 years.  Batik is a “resist” process for making designs on fabric, wherein wax is used to prevent dye from penetrating the cloth, leaving “blank” areas in the dyed fabric. The process, wax resist then dye, can be repeated over and over to create complex multicolored designs. As a beginner, I was able to use three colors for my project.  Back in Sanur, I “met” my first bedogol (gate guardian), Boma, (below) at the LeMayeur Museum so I decided to attempt to create him in batik.

My instructor and batik master Nyoman had a book of Indonesian figures, and he gestured to the pencils on the bamboo mat and motioned for me to start drawing, so I picked up the pencil with complete terror and began to draw – on a piece of paper first. It’s been a loooooong time since I sketched or drew, and I was pretty rusty.  But like riding a bike, some skills come back pretty quickly and I was able to copy Boma onto the plain white cloth which was stretched over a wooden frame.  Wayan, the (first-born, you got it!) son, showed me how to take the handmade bamboo pen called a canting and draw the outline with hot wax.  “Slowly. Slowly.” he said to me.  I took some deep breaths to center myself and slow down.  Slowly I outlined the creature, dipping the pen back into the molten wax to fill up the small tin vessel.

Once the outline was complete, Nyoman (the third-born son!) asked me if it was ok for him to add some curlicues, squiggles, flowers and embellishments to my sketch.  Of course I said yes.

Now we were ready to lay on the first color.  I chose a deep golden yellow, and I covered the canvas with the saffron colored paint.  Once that dried, we blocked out the yellow with wax and added the red paint; finally, the black was added.

And voila! I was floored – the piece came out amazingly wonderfully awesome!!

The delight of creating something artistic is so fulfilling, and what a great souvenir to bring home as a remembrance of my time in Indonesia, and a reminder to go “lambat, lambat” ( “slowly, slowly”),  relax and enjoy the simple things.

Enough of the lessons on Bali culture and customs!  Enjoy the pictures of the beautiful, helpful, smiling, inquisitive and calm people of this island…and the gargoyles and bedogols found all over the island.

Then there is the most dangerous risk of all – the risk of spending your life not doing what you want on the bet that you can buy yourself the freedom to do it later.                                  R. Komisar