Nyepi day and other thoughts

I wake up this morning to buckets of rain pouring down from the sky. I can hear the little creek behind the house filling up with water. I planned to go to an 8:00 yoga class, but there is no way Im going out on the motorbike in this weather.  I decide to stay in bed for a while and read the last few pages of my book, “A House in Bali” by Collin McPhee. It was a fantastic read. I bought it the day after I arrived in Bali but it has taken me 3 months to read it, along with all the other wonderful texts that have come into my life since I’ve been here. Collin McPhee was in Bali in the 1930’s to study and record gamelan music. He writes with a wonderful style and I have enjoyed the book very much. I’m sorry to see it end.

I’m thinking of my friends in the US who are all getting ready to watch the big Oscar Awards show today. It’s always my favorite day of the year and I love to go to a party, drink champagne and see what the actors are wearing and who will win. I will go to an internet café later to get online and see what the outcome of the show is.

I look across the street to the flooded rice fields and the green palms swaying in the rain. About 8 motorcyclists have taken refuge under the eves of the closed shop in front of the field. It’s too dangerous to drive, but they know it should be over soon.  In a while, the man who owns the shop will come and open the doors and make his prayers and offerings in front of the small temple at the side of the shop. I love watching him do this each morning.

The rain is pouring off the roof of my open air home. The pond in the middle of the yard is filling with rainwater. The beautiful purple, yellow and white orchids that hang from pots on the trunk of the trees are loving the moisture. Rain water splashes onto the floor and I have to be very careful when I walk close to the edge on the slick marble tiles. I love this house and feel so grateful for the chance to live in it. I’m comfortable here and it has become a place of social activity, with people stopping by, coming over for dinner and yoga and tai chi classes taking place here during the week. My friend Wendy will arrive next week from Australia to stay for a month and it will be nice to share this place with her.  

I light a stick of incense as I do each morning and evening, place some fresh flowers around it as an offering of my thanks, make a cup of hot chamomile tea with a spoonful of honey and begin to write. The geckos leave little presents of their droppings on the table, so I must clean it off before I sit down and open my computer. A cat has come into the kitchen and knocked over the garbage pail to get at the few scraps of tuna left from last nights dinner that I brought home from the small warung down the street. I get a beautiful meal of rice, veggies and tofu or tuna for about 10,000 rupiah, which is about 1 US dollar.

While waiting for my meal, I walk a half a block down the street to the Banjar, the local meeting place for the village where I live. They play music every night and have been busy making the Ogo-Ogo for the celebration coming up called Nypie.

I feel that some explanation is definitely needed here: The villages in Bali are created in a similar fashion to the Mormon “wards” in Utah. There is the head of the Banjar, like the president of the village. He makes sure all is going well with the people and heads up meetings and discussions for the village. Each Banjar has a music group, or gamelan, as well as a dance group who perform for the villages. There is always a huge temple in the village where important festivals and celebrations take place.

Nypie is a holiday that happens once a year in Bali, on March 5. It is a completely silent day. The whole island is closed for business. Not even an airplane can fly into Bali on Nypie. Everyone stays inside their home, do not use electricity or phones and uses the day to be with family and reflect and pray. Most people fast for the day and have a light meal after it gets dark. What a wonderful thing. It would be great if the whole world would take one day like this. Imagine all the resources we would save in one day, and the personal gifts that would come from it.

In the month before Nypie, each village creates great Ogo-Ogo statues made out of styrofoam. The Ogo-Ogos are fantastic and colorful and great works of art. They are scary demon looking creatures that are meant to scare away all bad energy and forces from the island. They are in many different forms and colors. The one in my particular village is a 12 foot tall woman with great giant breasts hanging down. She looks like she’s flying through the air and is holding a scary looking beast in one of her hands. I don’t know what she looks like because her head has not been placed on her body yet.

Each Banjar has a poster in front of the statues to show who has donated what amount to go towards the making of the Ogo Ogo. I talk to the boys for a while and tell them that I would like to make a donation of 100,000 rupiah. They excitedly accept and ask me to write my name on the board. “Ibu Christine. Chantik (beautiful) namanya” (name) they say. “Terimakasi! Terimakasi!” Which means Thank you. I am so happy to be part of this community and glad to play a very small part.

On the day before Nypie, all the statues in the area are paraded through the streets, musicians follow them, along with all the people from the village. They are all taken to the soccer field in the center of Ubud which is between Hannoman and Monkey Forest streets, and burned in a great fire. I am so looking forward to seeing and taking part this wonderful event.

It looks like the rain has stopped for now and there is the promise of blue sky in the distance. The day feels fresh and new.

A Day in Bali

Many people ask me how I spend my days in Bali. Each day is so completely different and I never know what is in store. That’s the joy of being in this magical place.

On this day I am jolted awake by my cell phone ringing at 7 am. I fumble around in my purse and fish out the ringing phone. It is Sari, the young Balinese man who takes care of the house I'm renting. He says he's at the front door. I stumble out of bed, shuffle across the front room in my nightshirt and shield one eye from the bright sun. I open the door and cannot help but smile at Sari. He is about 28 years old and he has one of the most brilliant smiles I have ever seen. His mouth literally takes up more than half his face and it seems like he has a thousand white teeth. "Selemat Bagi, Ibu Christine! You are sleeping?" he says. "I come to fix the stove". When he changed the gas tank the day before I couldn't get the two burner counter-top stove to light and asked him to come and take a look. "I not sleeping all night. I worry about the stove". He is such a thoughtful, wonderful guy. 

His wife Komang comes over every other day to clean the house, do the dishes, change the sheets, make the offerings to bless the house and whatever else needs doing. She is quiet and sweet and it’s nice to have her here.

After Sari leaves, I make some tea and try to wake up. I look out at the beautiful gardens, turn on the fountain and listen to the roosters crowing and the neighbors building something next door. The women carry stacks of newly made bricks on their heads to the men who will build the walls. The man across the street opens his small shop where he sells cold drinks, snacks, soccer balls and banana leaf hats that the rice farmers all seem to wear.

There is a small kitten that’s been hanging around the last few days, and she is back this morning. She's tiny but a tough little cookie. It looks like she's been through a lot in her short life. She is grey and white and it looks like her tail has been bitten or cut off. It's a short stump. She is skinny as hell. I watch her catch a dragonfly and eat it. She seems to be starving. I go and get her some milk, but she runs away as soon as I get near.

I put on some clothes, jump on my newly rented motorbike and go to the morning market to get some vegetables. The ladies all smile when they see me coming. They know I won't haggle too much with them and will end up paying "foreigner" prices. I buy garlic, tempe, onion, cabbage, a spinach-like green plant, and two potatoes. I also buy some little packets of curry, red chili spice and sesame seeds that I will toast and put on everything.

The market is filled with fish, eggs, exotic fruits and many other things I can't identify. Further on, there are the tourist market stalls, selling every kind of shoe, incense, clothing, jewelry, drums, toys, dolls, coconuts, bags, sarongs and much more. They don't bug me too much anymore. They can tell I"m staying a while.

I collect my things, get back on the bike and pay the parking man the equivalent of 20 cents. There is a big cremation happening tomorrow and there is a lot of activity and excitement around the royal palace across the street. Large towers are being made that will hold the body, and exquisite, huge bulls made out of paper mache are waiting to receive the ashes of the newly cremated body.  I will come back tomorrow to see all the action.

I bring my groceries back to the house, grab my computer and head to yoga class. After the hour and a half class, I sit at the café at Yoga Barn and do some work online while I have pumpkin soup and hot tea for lunch.

It begins to rain as I start back for home and that always freaks me out. I don’t like driving in the rain. I put my waterproof “mantle” on over my computer bag and purse and slowly-slowly make my way the mile and half to my house. When I get home I suddenly feel exhausted. I lay down and doze for about 30 minutes or so and then get up and take a shower and begin cutting vegetables for dinner. Anna Marie is coming over for the first time to have dinner and see the new place.

She arrives around 6 and stays for three hours. We talk non-stop and drink hot tea while I make dinner of pasta with vegetables mixed with my new spices and we share a cold Bintang beer to wash it down. She tells me of her recent time in India (she was there at the same time I was), going to the teachings of The Dalai Lama in Sarnath, and having the amazing opportunity to present him with a gift of one of her beaded wall hangings made especially for him. She is a dear friend and I’m happy she’s in my life.

I feel incredibly grateful tonight for so many blessings in my life and for the numerous blessings of this place called Bali.

Advenures in India - Part Four

After a very eventful and fun few days in Calcutta, we head back to the airport for our 2.5 hour flight to Port Blair in the Andaman Islands, off the SW coast of India. I had been there last year but was anxious to go back and see it through Dick Grace’s eyes. When I was here before, Dick asked me to go and visit a family that he supports, which I did. It will be so wonderful to see them again.

As we get off the airplane on the tarmac at Port Blair, we are hit in the face with a blast of hot air. It’s tropical and muggy and feels like a furnace. A huge change from the cool days and cooler nights of Calcutta. We go through customs and get our special permit needed to visit the Andamans and collect our bags. When we go outside there are two happy faces there to greet us. It is Ramu and Jayanthi, longtime friends of Dick and Ann.

They met in the Himalayas in Nepal several years ago when they were all hiking there. Ramu is a Commander in the Indian Navy and Jay works at a bank.  They live in Bangalore now but they used to be stationed in Port Blair so they know the area well. They have our hotels and transportation all arranged for us. I adore them right away and very soon we feel like we’ve known each other for lifetimes. They are both followers of the Guru Yogananda and are both very enlightened, very spiritual people. As it turns out, they are both Gurus of mine and teach me so much in just a few short days.

We go to the hotel to drop our bags and it’s like old home week. Dick and Ann have stayed here several times and the staff is anxious and happy to see them again. We are heartily welcomed and made to feel right at home. After we relax with fresh coconut juice and get settled in, we meet Ramu and Jay in the town center at the samosa shop. It is a custom for Dick and Ann to take a big box full of samosas to the family of Manisha.

Dick met 5-year-old Manisha around 7 years ago. She is mostly blind and comes from a family of 10 children. Two are blind and two have severe handicaps that make them unable to walk. They range from 3 years to 21 years old. The oldest is married and has one child of his own. They all live together in a very small house.  And they have no idea we are coming.

We pile into two auto rickshaws and make the 15 minute drive to Manisha’s house. When we arrive, the family is getting ready for a birthday party for one of the sons. It is perfect timing. The kids are all dressed up and they and their home are as clean as can be. Of course they are just beside themselves when they see that Grandpa Dick and Grandma Ann have arrived. It must have been like a gift from heaven to see them appear.

We squeeze into their tiny home and share in the small birthday cake that is brought for the 8 year old boy. (My apologies for not remembering all the names of the children). It is a festive and wonderful evening. Many photos were taken, songs were sung and delicious slivers of cake were shared along with delectable samosas.

Dick told all the children to get ready to go shopping the next evening so they could all pick out a new outfit. It is something they do with the family each time they visit. The kids are so excited but extremely well behaved. I am so impressed with this family. There is a beautiful light in all their faces and their bodies. They are happy and adjusted despite the tremendous amount of things they face, physically, financially and I would guess, emotionally. They are all very close and take good care of each other. Father likes to drink a little too much on occasion and Dick gave him a somewhat stern talking to, out of earshot of everyone else.

Bright and early the next morning, we get in our van to go snorkeling on the other side of the island. Dick knows the captain of the dive company, who has am amazing story about being lost at sea for several months.

I was feeling a tiny bit uneasy about going snorkeling in the Andaman sea because of my experience last year when I was left out in the middle of the ocean by a careless dive company. But I felt like I had a chance to erase those memories and knew I would be very well taken care of this time.

14 people pile into a rickety wooden boat with a small motor and a bit of shade that we sat under. The boat rocks from side to side very easily and the weight has to be carefully distributed. No sudden movements please…..

The loud motor roars to life, shaking the entire boat and making conversations almost impossible. We sail for about an hour to another small island and everyone grabs their gear and jump into the water. I am the second to last one out and as I gracefully slide into the sea, my swimming costume (as Indians call it) gets caught on a nail, splits at the crotch and stays mostly on the boat as I slip into the water. After a stunned moment of a silence, the laughter can be heard all the way back to Port Blair. Gloria unhooks my suit, which is now up around my neck, and I tug it back down around my body. It is now a very short dress. Luckily Ann was wearing a pair of shorts over her suit which she let me borrow so I didn’t sunburn my ass and scare the fish away.

We have a glorious day of snorkeling, the sea life appearing in unbelievable colors, shapes and sizes. We motor back to the islands, have a delicious lunch and head back to the hotel to get cleaned up for an evening of shopping. We make quite a scene in this small town when we walk into the store with 10 children to buy and outfit but it all goes smoothly and we are finished in about an hour.

The next morning we pack up our gear and head to the ferry for an hour and a half boat ride to Havelock Island where we will stay for three nights. Just for R&R, something I have never known Dick to do. It turns out to be a very special three days. Life changing, really in the things I learn and the people I meet. I feel that my life will take a new direction after Havelock Island.

We spend the days romping around the island on motorbikes, going swimming and snorkeling in the glorious waters of the Indian ocean, eating good food and being amongst friends, old and new.

On the fourth morning, it’s time to go back to Port Blair and to say goodbye to Ramu and Jay. We have all become very close on this trip and it feels difficult to know that we won’t see them again for a while. After a tearful goodbye, the four of us, Dick, Ann, Gloria and me get on the ferry. We all feel a little sad, but the mood is soon lifted as all the workers remember Dick the Jadu man and want him to do some more magic for them. Before we know it, the ride is over and we are back at Port Blair.

Once there, we take Manisha’s family out for a lovely dinner of tandoori chicken, rice, naan, deep fried spicy cauliflower and orange sodas. Everyone is so happy and joyful and it’s a wonderful time with the family. These children are very special and I know I will have a long connection with them as well.

The next day is our last in Port Blair and I decide to spend it catching up on some work and going on a boat ride to Ross Island, a place with a very long history of British rule. It is the Ellis Island of India. After a quiet, reflective day exploring this small island, I board the boat to go back to Port Blair. There is loud Indian music playing from the sound system and a funny Indian man in his mid 50’s gets up and starts dancing and grinding his hips to the music. Soon he is beckoning for me, the only foreigner on the boat to come and join him. Everyone is cheering and pushing me forward and before I know it, he and I are Bollywood dancing together to the sheer delight of everyone else. It was another unforgettable moment in my travels.

A House in Bali

I must interrupt our regularly scheduled program for an important update: I moved into a wonderful house in Bali today and feel compelled to write about it.

It is owned or rather rented from a Balinese family by an Australian woman named Joanne. I met her through one of the darling boys who works at Ubud Aura. She was going back to Australia for several months and Made said she may want to rent it out while she’s gone. He took me to meet with her before I left for India and we hit it off right away. She’s a wonderful woman in her mid fifties. She is very artistic and has spent the last year fixing up her place. After we talked for a few hours she said she would love to have me stay in her home while she’s gone and I was honored to accept. As I sit here tonight, my first night in my new home I cannot believe how fortunate I am that my life has led me here.

I walk up 4 steep stone stairs into a traditional Balinese home entrance. It has two stone pillars to mark the entry way and then there is always a wall directly in front of you to deflect any bad energy that may enter. I can go around this wall to the right or left. I choose to go to the left in a clockwise motion.

This is not a typical Balinese house, though. The whole front of the house is glass, and there is a view to the rice fields across the road.

When I enter the house, it is into a great open room with a high ceiling made of wood and bamboo. Beautiful cushions lie on the ground, dozens of pillows in blues, browns, reds and orange colors.  Waist high silver vases with aqua blue fabric draped around them stand in the corner. Custom made wood cabinets hold books, many small musical instruments, some movies and music.

At the other end of the room is a day bed with red mosquito netting hanging from the ceiling around the bed. Next to it sits a beautiful carved wooden couch with more colorful pillows. A low, large coffee table sits in front of the couch. Wooden bowls hold many porcelain eggs filled with some kind of beads so they make a wonderful shaking sound. Across the room, there is another, higher wooden table and three chairs. A perfect place to sit for breakfast.

The house is an L shape and is totally open to the inside. Along this open wall, there are brown and aqua colored curtains tied together at the four posts that hold up the roof. There is a beautiful garden in the center with a delightful pond. In the middle of the pond is a statue of a beautiful, shapely woman. There is water trickling out from her head and down into the pond.

Joanne’s friend Rose has just painted two murals on the wall behind the daybed. One is a woman in a red, sleeveless dress. She looks like an ancient princess. She has black hair and haunting, yet beautiful eyes. She is looking for something that she doesn’t have. She has a pink veil on top of her head and some wonderful sparkles have been added to it.  

Next to her is a warrior man. He has long black hair and a kerchief on his head, Balinese style. He has a very strong face and handsome lips. He wears a cloth on the lower half of his body while the upper half is bare. He has a quiver strapped across his chest, hanging to one side. His eyes are huge and beautiful and he is looking back slightly behind him, where the woman is.

Some of you may be getting the idea that this place is like the crazy mystery mansion where I lived in Corte Madera. And it is, but this time with a beautiful, clean energy. I feel like a got do-over.

Ahead and to the left is my bedroom. One wall is painted the same aqua blue color and  blue curtains hang over the glass door entrance. It feels like I am in the ocean in that room. There is a wine colored satin cover on the carved wooden bed and white mosquito netting surrounding it.  The bathroom is through the bedroom and Joanne was working on this project when she left. The paint is a wild red and silver color. She says she was experimenting and will change it when she comes back.

Next to the bedroom is a small kitchen. It is big enough to prepare a meal in, but nothing else. There is a two-burner countertop stove that is hooked to a gas tank below. I am looking forward to being able to cook for myself again after so long. The counters are covered in dark grey and black river stones. Much like the ones in my Mill Valley house. The floor is also made of small bits of stone and there is a yin yang symbol in the middle of the floor. On the counter, a small sign reads “This is Spirit. This is Grace. This is my peaceful Bali place”.

A small refrigerator is outside of the kitchen in a custom built cabinet that matches the others. It has glass cabinets on top and some drawers on the side. Next to that is a second bedroom that is done in light red colors. It has a single bed with a beautiful satin cover, red twinkle lights and a small table on the side. At the back of this bedroom there is a door that opens up into a huge, third bedroom and also a bathroom there. This room has been closed off though, and is not used due to some water and mold damage that the landlord promises to fix in the coming weeks.

The fountain is softly trickling, the yard lights are illuminating the pond and the luscious green plants and trees. I can hear Balinese singing coming from a temple not far away. I thought about turning on the stereo, but this is much better.  I wonder if I will wake up tomorrow and this will all have been a dream. It certainly feels like one. A really, really good one.