TIME OUT
It’s different
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There’s something about Bali which makes ardent devotees of the island say, “Bali is Bali.” And there’s no appeal. KAMINI SAWHNEY
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Photos: Kamini Sawhney, AFP
Quiet glow: The seashore temple at Tanah Lot;
Bali is Bali.” I know, that’s not very illuminating. But it’s what many ardent devotees of this seaside paradise will hit you with when you gently inquire about its charms. Is it worth a week’s holiday? T
hey will look pityingly at you. You know no better…you are one of the uninitiated.
And then you reach Bali and you slowly begin to understand what they are talking about.
What makes this seaside resort different from all the others? Is it the beaches, the pretty terraced rice fields, the lush forests, the charming architecture? It’s difficult to put your finger on. Perhaps it’s the extraordinary richness of the Balinese culture, or the deeply spiritual quality of the people here. Or maybe it’s a combination of all of these.
“Bali offers a living tradition”, is how one islander put it. “These traditions are part of our everyday lives; its the way we live.” The point, I suppose, is to stop thinking and just allow its richness to slowly envelop you.
Tradition and its ways
And it is this cultural tradition that the government tried to preserve when it designed Nusa Dua; once an arid stretch of coconut groves, now transformed into a luxurious complex of five star hotels. The idea was to get the big spenders into this dreamlike ambience of lush gardens and high-end resorts, built to an integrated design as a self-contained complex, to benefit the locals as much as possible. But tourists as we all know will not be contained, they are curious, looking for new experiences. And they all probably realise that the real Bali is to be found outside luxury resorts. Anak Agung Gde Agung, the crown prince of one of its ancient kingdoms, Gianyar, worries that this onslaught has put Bali’s unique culture under some strain. Most of the island’s economy is based on agriculture and as more and more hotels and malls creep into the countryside, people’s lives and the landscape are changing.
But there is still so much to be enjoyed. For me, the town of Ubud, “Bali’s heart of art”, has always been a magnet. You can spend hours wandering its winding streets, dotted with little shops, galleries and restaurants. It was here that many Western artists came to visit and stayed on, transfixed by the magic that is Bali. The hospitality they were shown by the local prince or Cokorda who was closely involved in encouraging local artists as well, turned the international spotlight on Ubud as a cultural centre. Ubud is now struggling against the inevitable “development” that comes with exposure, but it is still charming. There are museums to browse through, wild gorges and terraced rice fields to explore, temples and hamlets to discover, if you are willing to step away from the main streets; and of course wonderful food. You could sit at the Lotus Café, and yes, gaze at the lotus pond as you enjoy your cap cay and rice, or you could queue up, ro
und the corner, at one of Bali’s most famous spots for roast pork or babi guling. But be warned…this is not for the faint-hearted. As you enter you can see your victim laid out on a large tray, being sliced up to serve; not
a sight designed to fire up the usual Indian appetite. Otherwise visit the Dirty duck diner, which serves you the most delicious crispy duck in a charming setting. Don’t forget to check out how the restaurant got its name. That’s one fun story.
Rice fields in Denpasar
If Ubud is delightful, the drive to this artist’s town is almost as fascinating. This is a sort of shoppers’ and collector’s route, leading through little villages of artisans who specialise in different crafts. So Mas is the home of the most skilled wood carvers, Batubalan the place for fine stone sculptures, and again Celuk is the village of alchemists, most of them specialising in gold and silver jewellery. We stop at Batuan, a village that acquired some fame along with Ubud in the 1930s as a centre for painting. Its young artists were hailed for preserving their individual styles while responding to new Western markets and influences. Some of them have shops on the main road but most sell their work from family compounds in the back lanes.
I am here to meet Made Gimat who heads one of Bali’ most popular dance troupes. There are only two groups that perform the ancient classical dance of gambuh and Made Gimat’s is one of them. In Bali, there is no art for a
rt’s sake. Traditionally people do not play music just for pleasure or only for a performance — art is a form of worship. As we arrive, his men are getting ready to leave for a performance at one of the temples near Kuta. It is an important day, the day of the full moon or purnama. “I dance for God, I am not concerned with the audience”, Made Gimat tells me. “If they like it then I have made a connection with them too. But my focus is on God.”
You can’t get away from religion in Bali; it is a part of everyday life. The Balinese pray at their little family temples in the morning and no work for the day begins without an offering to the Gods. But it’s a world away from the Hinduism back home. Bali has a unique combination of animist and Hindu beliefs. They believe in the trinity of Gods but their temples hold no idols. Gods are perceived as abstractions and more associated with the forces of nature. In fact the Balinese have a very strong belief in the existence of spirits and demons; good spirits live in the mountains, demons in the depths of the sea, and even ancestors are deified as fundamental forces of nature. The Balinese were animists before Hinduism arrived and their beliefs and traditions were so strong that Hinduism just added another layer to their faith rather than wiping out earlier beliefs.
A vendor near the Bajra Sandhi temple.
So if you are a Hindu expecting to make religious connections here, you will be surprised. You’re more likely to make cultural connections, as you watch the Ramayana performed every evening high up on a cliff by the sea at Ulu
watu. Even when you drive in from the airport, the first thing you notice is a huge statue of Arjuna with his bow. The Balinese also have a strong sense of community like villages in India and a caste system that exists but more in language and social etiquette. For example rather than ask your name, an older Balinese is likely to ask you, “Where do you sit?” What he’s actually asking about is your caste so that he knows what level of language he has to use with you.
Plenty of action too
If all this is too much culture and it is action that you crave, then Kuta is your scene. It is crowded, commercial and restless. There’s a bewildering array of shops, traffic and noise and a very lively beach. And if you prefer a spot of action but in more peaceful surroundings, meander on to Legian and Seminyak. It has plenty of quieter cafes and restaurants and any amount of chic boutiques for die-hard shoppers.
The sporty are spoiled for choice: surfing, white water rafting, walks through the national park and even treks up to the volcano. Gunung Agung is Bali’s most sacred mountain and a trek up to its peak could take you the whole day. It erupted last in 1963 when over 2000 people died.
And no trip to Bali is complete without stopping over at the beach in Jimbaran, for some simply divine seafood. Candlelit tables are set out on the beach, while musicians stroll around singing for you, and hoping for a tip. There is every kind of seafood money can buy, still swimming in tanks. You take your pick and then sit down to enjoy it as the waves lap gently a few feet away from your toes.
So there is Bali — to be discovered or destroyed by you. Try to make sure you tread gently. Its like the rainforest — you are never going to be able to recreate it all over again.
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