As it turned out, I chose a good day to take a trip around Bali with Wayan’s Cultural Tours. Wayan is an interesting character, a Balinese who worked in Australia for six years before returning to do his tour work. His parents still manage some rice fields in the east of Ubud and he lives there with the rest of the extended family. He tells me how hard it is for his parents, his dad has a bad back and his mum is bent over with the years of carrying heavy weights. There are no social security benefits here, he and the rest of the family have to take care of them if they can’t work so they battle on. But he says they are better off than a lot of people here. Outside of Denpasar, Kuta and Ubud many people are still very poor and short of food, it’s a side of Bali tourists don’t get to see. He also tells me that the tourists still haven’t come back in the same numbers as before the Bali bomb – in his words “the bomb broke their trust with us” which was a very sad comment.
It was overcast but at least mainly dry and not too hot. I started taking in a bit of dance culture with the Barong and Kris Dance, a one hour dance performance of which I managed to get the basic idea but the nuances escaped me. It was some sort of a morality dance about good versus evil. The costumes were really good but there was a rather pantomime element to it with monsters and tigers and monkeys. At one point the man in the monkey costume made two V signs with his hands just like all the Japanese tourists do for photos – not sure if it was his attempt at humour or he was taking the p**s out of the largely Japanese audience! Although whilst I’m not sure how relevant it was, I did enjoy the last bit when a number of bare chested men danced around in their black and white sarongs whilst clutching sharp knives to their manly, tattooed chests....
The day then became a bit of a memory jogger through places I had visited before but largely forgotten until now. Mas, the woodcarving village, Celuk for gold and silver. I resisted a lovely gold bracelet to match my Bali ring, but at £750 it was a little too much for a souvenir – gold prices have changed along with lots of other things since I was last here! Then on to Tampak Siring and the Gunung Kawi Temple. This is close to the Tirta Empul temple that I now remember visiting before, but Wayan tells me the one we will see is much better and older. One of the reasons not many people go is that tour guides are lazy and this one is 300 long steps down (and of course 300 even longer ones back up....), so is much harder to get to. It was worth it. Set amidst vibrant green narrow terraced rice paddies, streams and waterfalls, with little stalls here and there on the steep paths, it was deserted. It was rediscovered in the 11th century, no one knows how much earlier it was actually built.
After slowly ascending the steps, we then head up to Penelokan where there is a spectacular view of Mt Batur, Bali’s most active volcano and Mt Agung, a spiritual mountain that influences all aspects of Balinese life. Mt Batur last erupted in 1993 and you can still see the black lava flow, although the fast growing vegetation here is slowly reclaiming the slopes.
We then take the lesser used roads back down towards Ubud, through the small lanes and villages with little farms either side growing coffee, mandarins, cabbages. No rice at this point as it is too high. We stop and take a look at a traditional village where the small compounds where the extended families live are the norm. Each one has its own temple as well as the three that they also have in each village. One little wayang or shop selling the basic necessities and kids running around. They only go to school for 4 hours each day in the morning. But it’s all a bit grim – seems very basic and even though the land is very fertile – for example they get three rice harvests and two mandarin harvests each year it still all looks a bit of a hand to mouth existence. Apparently they’re not really cash crops they are growing, just enough for consumption for the village itself.
As we descend further towards sea level, the agriculture changes to the ubiquitous rice and I am learning more about it. I always thought that crops grew at the same rate everywhere in a given area, so for example when your tomatoes are ready in England, they are all ready at about the same time. Not so here with rice. The fields all seem to be at different stages of development everywhere, some just planted, some bright green, some being harvested and some paddies just cleared for burning prior to the next planting. Suppose it makes some sense as the temperatures here are similar year round, it’s all to do with the supply of water. This valuable commodity is in “common ownership” and the irrigation channels are controlled by a central committee to ensure it goes where and when it is needed. I am lucky that one of the most spectacular rice terraces at Tegallalang is in its bright green phase, but the view is somewhat spoiled by the ribbon of shops and stalls that have sprung up at this photo opportunity stop. Doesn’t stop me taking a picture of course! These are apparently quite “new” terraces, built only about 300 years ago..... The irrigation systems have been in place much longer.....
And so to our last stop before returning to Ubud, a visit to a real Bali home compound. Just happens to be the compound of an artist in Kelaki, also the name of the style of painting done here, and surprise, surprise, I was shown some examples that were for sale.... Beautiful art, just not my style. But it was a real family compound with the little rooms and temples. I was offered and had to accept a glass of fresh lemongrass tea and a sticky rice dry pancake that looked a bit like a prawn cracker. On the way out, Grandma appeared from a very dark and grubby looking side room – a very old lady, deeply brown and deeply wrinkled with a toothless grin, a sarong around her waist and completely topless..... I asked Wayan her age as we got back in the car. His reply – “she is very old, maybe 58 or 60”.......
