Bali, Indonesia
Flooded rice paddies
A village religious procession
Lake Beratan and Ulunm Danu Temple
grounds - dedicated to the Goddess of Waters
The monkeys rule at the Monkey Forest
and the Temple of Sangeh - pictured my
local temple guide
Sacred grounds- Temple of Mengwi, Pura
Note prayer flag and altar
My view for lunch - Chinese buffet
cost me $4 U.S.
Wherever there are people, there are little
stores and stands
Traditional method of carrying things
Buddha Shrine at Ulunm Danu Temple
Mystical Bali

Bali, by its very name fuels the imagination
- magical, mysterious, a shangri-la
A place of spiritual peace and rest
Does such a place exist?

Bali, the Island, exuding endless shades of green
fueled by the tropical rains and heat
Rice paddies and terraces
blanket the countryside
Electrical towers somehow appearing out of place

Villagers bathe nonchalantly in the rivers and streams
oblivious to the passing traffic

The traffic appearing chaotic
somehow moves in an orderly fashion
along the narrow roadways
Despite two cars and three motor scooters
passing at the same time
Honks to warn but not in anger
A stoic patience waiting for the jams to clear

Every bend displays an altar or temple
honoring the village gods or family protectors
Parades of festively attired villagers
move gracefully through the traffic
celebrating their spiritual walk
Here the spiritual and life are interwoven

Endless stands and open markets of fruits, vegetables,
Coke, and snacks appear wherever families gather
Artisans, sculptors, carvers, and creators of Batik
offer their intricate creations to all

Oka, the tour guide, proudly describes his Island
and its long traditions
talking of life's greater meaning

Smiles quickly come to faces
and a two-handed bow as a greeting

Women, old before their time, walk open-shirted
breasts sagging from the constant tug of gravity
Old men, skin leathered from the tropical sun,
move methodically in the fields
Backs bent from working the paddies

Scooters carrying families of three
dart in and out of traffic
Amazing loads of fruits and produce
carried atop the head by young and old

Temples where sacred monkeys rule the grounds
Others covered by endless flora
Sacred places where only the most holy enter

A density of people so foreign to Westerners
Beautiful beaches speckled mainly by tourists
All these describe the Island Bali

Yet, deep within another Bali exists
A place where one can take a spiritual journey
and experience peace
Where the words "Selamat tidur" - good night
and pleasant dreams
convey far deeper meanings than words possess
The Bali within ones dreams

Bali was the most foreign of all my destinations and in many ways the most interesting. The longest discourses I emailed to my list-serve friends were from Bali. It is a country whose culture greatly contrasts ours even though Western influence is having more and more impact. Personally, I hope the Balinese maintain their cultural base; we could learn much from them about the importance of spirituality in everyday life and the need for patience.

Additional Comments: What an island of contrasts! The first thing that hits you when you get off the plane is the intensity of the heat and humidity. As you go for your bag, a porter takes it and helps you through customs. (Custom officials are learning to use the computer, so the process is slow. There is no hurry - we are in Bali.)

Luckily, I had exchanged my money in Perth - the only problem, I didn't remember the conversion rates. I had 500,000 and 250,000 rupiah notes. The porter dutifully awaited the tip - oh, well -250,000 will do. I ended up passing several of those out over the course of going to my hotel. I later figured out that the amount was approximately $2.40 - Boy, were they glad to see me!

As I exited customs, much to my pleasure, a sign neatly typed saying "R.Casey" was spotted among the endless sea of faces. Pacific World, the company through whom I had scheduled my hotel, somehow had my flight number and awaited to transport me to Nua Sua about 40 minutes away. (The airport is in Denspar.)

Following the traditional greetings and bows, I was escorted to the van, handed a cold wet towel to wipe away the perspiration, and given a container of bottled water, the derigueur for this island unless you want Bali Belly. My host/guide was Oka and his driver Whina. Oka proceeded to explain his role and the services he offered. I was still overwhelmed and in culture shock but grateful that someone was there to assist. The first thing that impressed me about Oka was his quiet ways and his interlacing of comments with the spiritual including quotes from the Koran despite the fact that I found out later that he was Hindu.

Upon checking into the Hilton with Oka's assistance, numerous bows, a cold cup of juice awaiting, another cool towel and minus several more 250,000 notes, I sat down with Oka to plan the next day. The cost would be $90 U.S. for Oka as a tour guide, a driver, van, and stops wherever I wanted. I thought that quite a deal!

A beautiful Balinese hostess escorted me to my room - another 250,000 gone. Oh, the graceful walk Balinese women exhibit! I finally got smart and found some Australian change with which I tipped the bell porter.

The Bali Hilton is an incredible hotel located in an incredible location. For $ 97 a night (discounted through the internet company, Pacific World) this facility puts many of the best Hawaiian resorts to shame at four and five times the price. The biggest problem is all the bowing you do as you pass hotel personnel...just kidding...it is a very welcoming place. Most of the guests were Germans, Japanese, a few Australians, and probably some Americans that I never saw. A bit on the downside, you are isolated from the Balinese people and culture even though the hotel has tried to maintain that in their decor and building style. All personnel are dressed in formal Balinese attire. However, through Oka and my personalized tour I was able to get out into the countryside.
Coments continued: I found out from Oka the next day that tourism is a major source of income. As a tour guide (a prestigious position on Bali), he took many tests to become licensed including waiting six weeks for the results of his test. He was raised in the village, growing rice and working the fields. He is largely self-taught in English and had intense drive to self-educate himself. He recently married, and a child is on its way. He also helps support his family (now only a mother and a married sister) back in his village. Oka returns there periodically to help with the rice paddies. He told of 'shut down days' when the whole island closes down to celebrate religious observances. He indicated that the airport even closes. People do not leave their homes. This story tells much about the Balinese people.

As you travel through the island, you note village life and the casualness from old men and children bathing in the irrigation streams to old women walking open shirted. Carrying items on your head is standard. Traffic jams now occur but they are approached with stoic patience. If a religious procession backs traffic up, so be it. Around almost every bend there are religious altars or gifts to the village or family gods.

In Bali the term for 'artist' as we know it in the West does not exist. All are considered blessed with artistic talents. The carvings, paintings, costumes, and batik are beautiful to behold.

Family and ties to the village still exist. Balinese are very social. But Bali is changing quickly as you observe the electrical towers proliferating, traffic jams, and movement from the villages to the areas around the cities and resorts that serve the tourists.

On reflecting, I still chuckle at how the two cultures, Balinese and Western, clash. The Hilton of course is an American company that has franchised worldwide. The employees were all Balinese. There were many little shops throughout the complex. I would go into one of the shops and find no clerk. I would go to the next shop and find the clerks seated on the floor enjoying each other's company.

Or, on more than one occasion, I would enter a shop and walk around the bend and almost stumble over a curled up sleeping clerk. I would quietly leave. One time, I was looking at a shelf of batik cloths, and low and behold I suddenly realized that a woman and her child were asleep among the shelves. Will Western ways someday turn these women (all the clerks were female) into efficient customer oriented associates? Somehow, I hope not. If I wanted America, I'd stayed home.

In closing, don't misinterpret the above paragraph. Overall, the service in the restaurants and throughout the hotel was excellent. It was just done the Balinese way, which once you experience it, you will understand how nice that is.

I hope you will take time to see more more Bali and read about Oka my tour guide, the efficiency of Pacific World, and the beautiful Conrad Bali Hilton.
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