The village of Mas

On Tuesday night we listened to environmentalist Emerald Starr talk about sustainability in Bali and came away quite depressed. While I continue to figure out my reaction to the information he presented, an easier post is to write about Mas. 

On our way to Sukawati market last week for our shopping expedition, we drove through areas that we hadn't explored for a while, including the village of Mas. It seemed like time to return. Once, not so long ago, all the villages that comprise Ubud were distinct identities but these days they tend to run into each other along the busy roads. Unless you keep your eyes open it is easy to miss the stone markers on the roadside that herald the start of each village.

In days past Mas was famous for being a wood carving village. Carving is still the primary craft, but mask making and glass blowing have become important too. Mas is also home to the Setia Darma, the House of Masks and Puppets, which is an interesting event space as well as a museum. 

We are finding lack of independent transport a real hindrance to getting out and about so we are investigating rental options but have made no decision yet. We therefore took transport and asked the driver to drop us off at what we thought was the start of the village so that we could amble and explore. It turned out that we were at the tail end of Peliatan, but no matter it wasn't far to the Mas marker. We found Waroeng Bernadette and Ubud Deli along the way, places we had heard good things about and later wished we had availed ourselves of. If possible, the pavements and roads were even worse here than areas we are more familiar with. 

The general wares of Peliatan soon gave way to vast timber storehouses and furniture showrooms. So much timber and how much of it sustainably harvested? There's no way of knowing. Huge pieces of cut and polished tree trunks were chalked with their destinations - Brisbane, Australia; Paris, France. Artisans work close to the pavements chipping and carving the timber into incredible shapes. We stopped at one, watching for a long time, chatting to a friendly and informative local man who appeared to be in charge. We learned of the process. Men in this village learn to carve from a very early age, but refine their skills for three years at a carving school. Some then get jobs working in big places like this. A master craftsman reads the wood to determine what it will become and makes the basic shape. The 'apprentices' then use their tools to allow the wood to give up its secret - it may be a horse, a dolphin, a goddess or, as we saw, a sow and her piglets. 

All quite wonderful to watch. The finishing off, smoothing and polishing, is done by women. Nothing is wasted - even massive root systems can be made into something incredibly beautiful.

Factory upon factory, gallery upon gallery - so much wood and quite overwhelming. You can't imagine that it can all be sold but the artistry cannot be denied.

Further along the road we investigated a lovely older building with intriguing objects in the window. Amaly Gallery is run by Ketut and his wife, the collection of antiquities having been gathered by Ketut's father over many years.

The vast space, upstairs and down and a little faded these days, is filled with beautiful fabrics and objects. We spent well over an hour looking and admiring, with Ketut patiently explaining function and origin. It was like wandering through a private museum. Our money would have been of more practical use than our interest but Ketut didn't seem to mind that we were just looking. We chatted with his wife and his two small daughters and promised to return. I hope that it is a promise that we can keep. If you are in the market for something old and lovely, the place isn't glitzy but it is authentic, and well worth a visit.

More carving, more masks, more glass. But not too many places to stop for a drink or something to eat. My newly acquired language skills failed me when I thought a stall holder wanted $7 for an orange juice when all she required was 70c and we had to resort to the old handful of money strategy letting her take what she needed. By now the heat was becoming uncomfortable and the galleries much of a muchness so a fortuitous passing taxi transported us back into town for a R & R afternoon tea at Kue, always a treat.

I have managed to procrastinate a little longer over writing about the Emerald Starr talk last week. It's a powerful set of ideas that still has you mulling days later. I'll respond soon.