The last post

For a little while.

Blogger tells me that this will be the 99th post of this trip. Just missed the century, but there may be more a little later. This time tomorrow we will be in the airport ready to head back to Australia. And it's not just us who is wondering where the time has gone. Almost everyone is looking disbelieving as they ask the inevitable question. And where has it gone? In a whirl of new friendships, new learning, conversations with like-minded people, films, talks and self discovery.

Only last night as we walked down Jl Dewi Sita, frantic waving from a restaurant alerted us to a couple we hadn't seen for weeks. Another farewell. The last few days have involved farewell drinks and 'au revoirs' with the many people who live here that we are happy to now call friends. And in a nice show of symmetry, just as we arrived in May in time for a Royal Cremation, we depart in October with preparations under way at the Palace for another next week.

Bali's, or more precisely, Ubud's siren call still echoes and we will most certainly be back in a few months, and for even longer. But those will be other stories for another time. Perhaps I will continue to document our experiences next year as we use this base to explore other parts of Indonesia, and South East Asia.

The readership has surprised me and I thank those of you who have been following my ramblings.

And as if to prove that she has still secrets to reveal, Bali sprung yet another surprise yesterday. We had no idea that the afternoon and evening after Galungan Day is the time that children band together and dance their barongs up and down the streets seeking donations. A Balinese trick or treat, except it's all our treat. Impossibly cute boys in groups of about 20, some looking as young as three, all under ten, have been obviously preparing routines involving dance and music. The same ritual that their older brothers, their fathers, their grandfathers and beyond would have performed each Galungan. So charming. So delightful. Such a lovely memory to leave with.

Please  check in from time as I hope to build this site over time with cultural and practical information about the island and its people.

Selamat jalan. Selamat tinggal. Terima kasih Ubud.

Galungan Day

It felt very special to be in the only place on the planet where the huge ceremony of Galungan was being celebrated today. Although Bali is a Hindu culture, this festival is not part of the worship of Indian followers of the faith. It is the biggest day on the calendar, and the streets had a distinct holiday lull about them.

We had been watching the preparations over the past few days, particularly the vast number of offerings being prepared and the lavish decoration of family and village temples. Yesterday afternoon we went on a penjor-spotting drive. While some were in the late stages of preparation, most were fully decorated, with narrow village streets transformed by the swaying poles. Each seemed subtly different from its neighbour, and we were told today that although the symbolism remains constant, different villages have different styles of decoration, although our eyes are not yet keen enough to pick this.

The penjor is a symbol of victory against evil spirits and must contain agricultural products such are used in daily life. Thus you will find rice and vegetables featuring on each penjor in some capacity while the swaying, bowing upper section denotes respect and acknowledgement of the gods. This tradition has been going on for centuries and its elements are passed through the generations so that it can never be forgotten. The Balinese social structure of village temple and banjar ensures that everyone complies with these demanding, and expensive, spiritual obligations. Not that you will ever hear a Balinese person grumble about their religious duty.

Today was the main event, (and Galungan is always a Wednesday) but Monday, Peyajaan Galungan, was the day of baking special cakes (jaja) to be used in the offerings. On Tuesday (Penampahan Galungan), as well as the erection of the penjors, animals such as pigs and chickens are sacrificed and offered in order to erase negativity in both the personal and broader environment. Although I confess to feeling squeamish at the notion of animal sacrifice, I reminded myself that we do it too for major festivals (turkey for Thanksgiving or Christmas, anyone?) but in a way that is so sanitised and removed from our daily reality we scarcely give it a thought. There's no avoiding the reality here, and there is no waste as the village shares the meat and dishes served today, such as lawar, babi guling and sate are the result.

Dressed in our finery we were honoured to enjoy a meal today at our friends' compound and left with a packet of cakes and fruits from the offerings in the temple.

The streets of Ubud, and all over Bali, tonight reverberated to the sounds of drums and gongs as the Barong, symbol of good, led processions of young and old, marking the end of an important family day.

Between now and Kuningan, in ten days' time, there will be further ceremony and worship, but with less intensity until Kuningan day itself, which we won't be here to see.

 Only three more sleeps left for this trip. Where have the months gone?

Sibuk, sibuk

Or, busy, busy. After a couple of days of seclusion feeling blah, it was a surprise to venture out and see how busy everybody had become. It felt like Christmas Eve in the West, with increased traffic and longer than usual queues in the supermarket.

Some penjors are already in place, but apparently tomorrow is the correct day to put them up, Galungan Eve. As we were driving it became apparent that penjor work is men's work. Some completed poles were lying on their side, decorations being fine-tuned or waiting for the right time to go on full display; in other places groups of men still sat working on their creations. We even saw a motorbike this afternoon carrying two very green, obviously just-cut long bamboo poles - the Bali equivalent of the last-minute Christmas tree dash.

We did wonder, human nature being what it is, if there were penjor 'competitions': whose was the biggest and best in the village, much as our Christmas lights tend to become. But Balinese spirituality seems so much stronger than ours, and if some penjors are fancier than others it might be a show of wealth, but it is also a sincere tribute to the gods.

Bearing our gift of fruits and cakes, we called in at the family compound where we will be celebrating the holiday on Wednesday. Knowing how busy everyone is, we planned just a short visit, but soon realised that would be impossible. The compound has six dwellings, housing five generations, set in lovely grounds. Our immediate hosts, Dika and Ketut, insisted on stopping what they were doing, calling any children present and serving coffee, tea, pisang goreng (fried banana) and small cakes. The very oldest members of the family did not join us, but we will meet them formally on Wednesday. It struck us as such a sensible way to live: multi generational, children always with playmates and minders, yet a degree of privacy. The youngest child is not yet six months, the oldest adult well into his 80s.

Ketut showed me her room full of beautiful offerings, stacked almost to the ceiling, made by the women of the compound. Nowhere near finished, she assured me, but there was still time. Our fruit will be incorporated into one of those glorious towers that Balinese women carry on their heads to the temple. Tomorrow is cooking day for the Wednesday feast, so I am guessing that sleep will be in short supply tonight and tomorrow.

It is such a privilege to be so intimately involved with this celebration.

The gods are on their way

On Wednesday the gods and the spirits of the ancestors will descend from the mountain and so begins the biggest celebration on the Balinese calendar. You know that Galungan is near when the beautifully decorated penjors appear outside every dwelling on the island. For weeks we have noticed small trucks carrying extremely long bamboo poles, which will become these penjors, and many tiny shops have sprung up along the road selling decorations.

Shops and some restaurants will soon close - some for just a couple of days, some for the full 10 days until Kuningan heralds the end of the festivities and the gods go back to the mountain. We leave on Saturday so will miss some of the fun. Bad planning on our part, but as our visas will expire, sadly we cannot stay longer.

Rather than paraphrase the many articles that explain the significance of Galungan and Kuningan, the links will give more detail, and this recent article from the Jakarta Times explains the importance of a celebration where cost is no object, even to the poorest families.

We are honoured to have been invited into a Balinese compound on Wednesday to join the family for the afternoon. Honour is combined with anxiety. What do you wear? Bring? This particular compound houses 27 people across five generations. We have the right garments: I will wear kamben, kebaya and sash while Eddie will add a jacket and saput to his kamben and on his head wear a udeng. Diagram here and Murni explains Balinese dress in more detail here. As for bringing, we are assured that nothing is required on the day (which feels odd) but a gift of fruit on Monday that can be used for offerings would be appreciated. It can't just be any fruit though, we need to look for beautiful apples and oranges and grapes would be a bonus. So that is tomorrow's task.

Those who have been granted the full holiday are heading back to their families to help with preparations, but even those who are working will try and return for even a short time on the day. An indication of the importance of the family temple is one young man we know who works in Ubud, but whose family is more than four hours away by motorbike on the west coast. On two consecutive days last week he finished work at around 5pm, rode the four hours home, spent an hour at the temple, then rode back to Ubud ready to work again. Something very important was happening that he could not miss so there is no doubt that he will be home for Galungan. This is also the holiday when workers can expect an extra half month's wages to help with the heavy costs of the celebrations.

Galungan and Kuningan was last celebrated in March, according to the 210-day calendar, so it will next occur in May 2014. We plan to be here for the full 10 days. It feels incomplete to be leaving this time before the gods have ascended the mountain again.

Selamat Hari Raya Galungan dan Kuningan.

All quiet now

It hasn't taken long for the streets to clear after the busyness of the past week. Banners have been dismantled and temporary structures removed even more quickly than they were put up. When we took Thando and Truth to the airport for their return flight to Harare, the new departure area was crazy busy. This airport has been open less than a month, and during the APEC madness more than 700 flights were cancelled and the airport closed for four days. In the midst of all this, the international departure area was moved from the old airport into the new, so teething problems are to be expected.

Now the first round of security checking begins even before check-in, so we made our farewells at the gate a little earlier than we thought. Less than a week after getting here, they are now home again. Talk about whirlwind!

If you are a writer's festival sort of a person, and many people are, you might want to consider visiting Ubud next October. The festival sessions are held in the area of the town known as Sanggingan, a little over a kilometer from the centre. That's no problem, as a regular shuttle runs from the Casa Luna restaurant down to the festival action throughout the day and transport is cheap at other times. But if you want to stay right in the midst of the bustle, here is an accommodation list of places between the Neka Museum and the Bintang Supermarket, all an easy walk to the main venues along Jalan Campuhan and Jalan Sanggingan.. Something here might suit your budget but, as you can imagine, rooms book up quickly with regulars securing their place a year ahead. Anything located in Penestanan would also be quite convenient but transport to and fro will probably be needed, as it would in the heart of Ubud. The walk from the centre is doable, but the middle of the day can get very hot and sticky, so closer is better.

Walkability, in no particular order, and without any particular recommendation: TripAdvisor can be a useful guide:

• Taman Indrakila, currently under renovation, and the website seems to be down, but look later.
• Kori Ubud
• Sunrise Villas. This certainly looks like the one, but no guarantee as they don't give exact address. If contacting them, best to ask about Festival proximity.
• Villa Sanggingan
• Anom Cottages
• Royal Pita Maha
• Uma Ubud
• Toko Toko Bungalows, no website
• Ananda
• Sunny Blow Cottages
• Anini Raka

If rates are quoted in rupiah, a very general rule of thumb is to subtract four zeros to reach a dollar figure. Thus, Rp400000 is close enough to $40 at the moment although the rate may vary, and if either currency takes a dive you will have to do your own calculations.

Closer to Ubud, but further from the Festival along Jl Campuhan is the Tjampuhan Hotel, but if you don't mind a walk, it's worth a look.

There, all the work done for you. You just need to come! Here's this year's program again as inspiration. See you in 2014. Exact dates are still to be announced so watch the website.

Over for another year

Did the gods not want this to end? A significant earth tremor just as the party started at Blanco Museum would suggest so. We have had about four since getting here in May, and this was the biggest, no doubt an aftershock from the 7.1 incident that hit the Philippines earlier in the day, with a growing death toll. We were busy helping Thando and Truth stock up on goodies for their return trip to Zimbabwe today, so didn't even notice but friends said that it had been a good one.

So the Festival has concluded for another year.If there is time to reflect further before we leave for home in 10 days (10 days!) I will, otherwise later, as I will keep this blog alive with information about tradition, culture and other aspects of Balinese life in the space between trips. For we will be back. And soon.

Of the almost-200 writers here this year we were able to see but a handful, but every session offered insight and often humour. Some highlights:

• Opening Ceremony at the Palace. An invitation event that had beautiful Balinese elements that was unfortunately spoiled by the ceaseless loud chatter of people at the back who didn't even stop for the Prince's welcome speech. I cannot imagine that they would be as rude in their own country.
• I had not heard of US-born writer David Vann before this Festival, but Jennifer Byrne's interview with him revealed a very funny, engaging man, whose bleak past could have led to a very different life. Fascinating.
• Grandma Bilawara Lee of the Larrakia Nation in northern Australia and Cok Sawitri discussing the wisdom of elders, particularly women, in traditional societies. By abbreviating the title Cokorda to 'Cok' this woman is playing down her royal status. She did, however, exercise her right to speak in high Balinese, but the things she had to say, particularly about the feminine, at times confounded her translator. She speaks perfectly good English, but made the point that in the ten years of this festival held in Bali, the Balinese language had never been used in a forum. She has put that situation to rights.
• The courage and humanity of people such as Romani Benjamin and Ben Quilty who, through the arts are making a difference to the lives of refugees and prisoners. 
• Continuing this theme:  Mexican journalist Lydia Cacho and Egyptian activist Mona Prince whose lives continue to be in danger because they speak out. Two extraordinarily courageous women.
• Ben Quilty again. This time as he spoke of his work as official war artist for the Australian Defence Forces in Afghanistan and his ongoing connection with the young soldiers who continue to serve there. Very moving. He kept apologising that he was an artist at a writer's festival so felt a bit fraudulent but the word pictures that he evoked were powerful.
• Out of Africa Night at Bar Luna. Fantastic music and poetry from Thando and other African men who currently reside in the island. The place was packed, but people still managed to dance.
• The premiere of the film Jalanan, made by Ubud-based film maker Daniel Ziv, which had just won an award as best-documentary at the Busan International Film Festival in Korea. The award was presented on the night, and Boni, Ho and Titi, the three young Jakarta buskers who were stars of the film, played afterwards. Here's a teaser of this entertaining but thought-provoking movie. The music that followed wasn't too shabby, either, and included Australian Clare Bowditch and an Indonesian rock group* that all the kids knew well and sang along with. The lyrics seemed very political, taking a strong anti-corruption stance. Fabulous night.

Of course there was more. Much more. But you will just have to come along to this exciting, stimulating festival yourselves. I plan to put up a list of nearby accommodation for anyone who is seriously considering the trip so watch this space. 

Now for those who have read all of this post, your reward is this video of our new friend Thando performing one of his poems, courtesy of another friend of his who just happens to be in Bali right now and took Thando and Truth out on a boat for the day yesterday. Thank you James Maiden.

Home to Africa by Thando Sibanda from James Maiden on Vimeo. *later found out it was the band Navicula. They were good!

Decisions, decisions

So much to see. So much to do. So many people to listen to. Above all, this is a festival of ideas. We have found from previous festivals that, unless there is a compelling reason to attend a particular session, it is really rewarding to choose a venue instead and enjoy the serendipity. But before I head off to Neka this morning (Eddie has volunteer duties for a few hours), a quick recap.

Airport duty on Thursday was intense. It was as if every plane that had been waiting to land following the APEC closures had arrived at the same time. Writers were hot and tired. Some had been travelling for 24 hours from Europe. But all were unfailingly pleasant, even though the immigration queue took over two hours before processing.

It was my good fortune to make the return journey to Ubud with a charming couple from Zimbabwe. Thando Sibanda is a performance poet, and his beautiful wife Truthness (aka Truth) is a livewire. So much fun. Since they met Eddie too we have all made a strong connection, but more of them and Thando's work another time.

We have attended the Opening Ceremony in the Palace, the writers' dinner at Casa Luna and attended three fabulous sessions yesterday. All of these deserve more time than I have right now. I will reflect later. In 15 minutes Thando is appearing in a panel at Neka (my compelling reason). Making a Mark will feature other people whose work is changing lives through art including Australian artist Ben Quilty who is working with inmates at Kerobokan Prison. So I must rush off, without pictures or links at this stage. Back soon.

UWRF

Taman Baca, Reading Garden

In every way the Writers and Readers Festival is the reason we are in Ubud. We have attended in previous years and found excellent accommodation close by, which is where we have been staying since May. Now the 10th anniversary 2013 Festival is about to start, and excitement levels are mounting.

Thousands of people will attend sessions - something like 25000 seats have been sold, but of course some of these will be people attending multiple sessions. Nevertheless, that's an influx of visitors and a great boost to the town's economy. Which was Janet deNeefe's intention when she founded the Festival immediately after the first bombing when tourists stopped coming here. I can't imagine her feelings when the second bombings took place soon after the 2005 event had concluded but it was all the more reason to carry on. Now UWRF is considered one of the premier international festivals of its kind.

This year more than 190 writers will be presenting; some are household names but many are not, and all the more interesting for that. Later I am off to the airport to greet arriving presenters and welcome them to Bali.

The streets are bedecked and this time on Saturday they will be teeming. Tonight there will be a Hindu blessing ceremony, tomorrow night we are lucky enough to be invited to the official opening at the Palace followed by a gala dinner. Then it's go, go, go.

Eddie and I both volunteered as soon as we got here in May and we have been helping with the programme and presenting authors and their books at the Bar Luna literary evenings. We have seen first-hand how brilliantly the programming staff have been juggling events and dealing with disappointment*. And how amazing the volunteer coordinators have been as they communicate with people around the world about their roles and as they have coped with last minute changes. Now I will sit back and enjoy the delicious dilemma of selecting what to attend, but Eddie's volunteering continues as he will be helping out with book launches and workshops over the four days.

Let the Festival begin! Will report as I can.

* It's a two-edged sword when you are smart enough to programme Man Booker Prize nominees before they are nominated. It means that when they are, they can't attend the Festival! Everyone is delighted for the authors, but disappointed for the Festival.So no Tash Aw, no Ruth Ozeki. This year, anyway.

Volunteer briefing, this morning

Box office will be busy

This building and grounds needs to be ready for action in 24 hours, and will be.

Sorry about that

Second post of the month, second apology, but we have popped our heads briefly out of the cone of silence. The past few weeks have been far busier than we could have anticipated. Not only have we enjoyed the company of family, there have been myriad social events. We are also making some big decisions, so talking, researching, emailing and considering has engaged our time. More of those developments another time.

With the Festival starting on Friday, we have been fortunate to start the partying early. Who knew that the new premises of Bali Adventure Tours were so, well, lush? We certainly do now, as a welcome reception for sponsors and volunteers was held there last week. The drinks and food foreshadowed many other lavish affairs to come over the next few days, but as few had been to this newly opened venue, the style came as something of an extremely pleasant surprise.

No doubt the hotels that cater for the rich and famous, and there are a few in Ubud, also enjoy stunning views, but they are exclusive. Any lucky rafter who finishes their adrenaline-filled whitewater experience will end up here. Not quite where we were - that was the posh part of the eight levels (four underground). They will be even higher* so will probably have an even better view over the gorges than ours, but it's difficult to imagine. And we have to imagine, as it had become dark when we passed this area on the way to see the helipad.

Did I mention the helipad? We were in the right place at the right time when the entrepreneurial owner** asked three of us if we would like to see it. A touch James Bondish with the press button retractable roof. He explained that he believes Ubud is ready for a high-end space such as this centre. Goodness only knows what it cost, but it certainly is impressive, and you would have no idea from the road.

This is not the only festival-related socialising we have done recently, either. The expat life!

As I have said, the Festival begins on Friday with the opening ceremony, although a Balinese ceremony and blessing will be held on Thursday night. Banners are fluttering all over town and the writers have started arriving, with the biggest number from all over the world due on Thursday. I am going to the airport in a meet-and-greet capacity in the afternoon. More on the exciting days ahead soon.

* No building in Bali is permitted to be higher than the coconut palms after the 1960s architectural disaster of the Bali Beach Hotel. The gods had their revenge later when practically the whole building was destroyed by fire in 1993 with a mysterious outcome. When you have been here a while, you begin to take such strange happenings as quite normal.
**He is also responsible for wonderful Taro Elephant Safari Park, where there is a rescue and breeding program for Sumatran elephants.

Still can't do links.

Apologies...

...for the break in transmission. Too busy! Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.

Countdown

Only four weeks left! And they will be busy, so before we know it we will be dragging our heels to reluctantly get on that flight home. Of course it will be lovely to see family and friends, but our time here has left us wanting more.

So what will be keeping us occupied in these final weeks? Happily, very happily, family will be visiting next week. Just for a week, but it will be fun showing them places and sharing meals with face-to-face conversation. The car will really come into its own, with the freedom to hit the shops, see the sights and enjoy a must-visit for the seven-year-old twin boys, Waterbom Park.

A few days after they jet off, not home but to Hong Kong (lucky boys), the Writers Festival happens. And that really is a full-on four days. I will have much more to say about this event soon.

And after that? We will go to the village of Munduk in north Bali for five days to take part in a housing program being run by Habitat for Humanity Indonesia.

Then to the airport, and home.

So, you can see we have plans. And next year? More plans.

But we haven't left yet, so these pages will continue to keep you up to date.

Links to follow.

Spicy, but nice

Breakfast this morning was a real surprise. As I have mentioned before, I have told the kitchen that I am happy to eat anything they feel like preparing. Variations on eggs, including plump, vegetable-filled omelettes, nasi goreng, pancakes - every day is different.

But this morning, presented on a banana leaf, was a proper Balinese breakfast of burbur sayur, or vegetable rice porridge. I didn't have the camera, and I can't find an image that even gets close to how it appeared when unwrapped, so you will have to trust me that it looked wonderful.

Wayan had stopped at a roadside stall on her way to work to purchase this very typical Balinese breakfast for us. Glutinous rice, mixed with green vegetables and garnished with a delicious, but on-the-hot-side spicy paste, it tasted as good as it looked. The banana leaf was parcelled into a triangle fastened with a toothpick*, and the texture of the dish was such that it could easily be eaten with the hands, as Balinese people do.

Roadside stall holders can be seen everywhere throughout the day and night. They seem to specialise: some sell sweet cakes, others bakso** and tofu dishes, still others cool drinks made from fresh young coconuts. Prices are so cheap that almost everyone can afford to buy and so the wheels of the economy keep turning.

Bumbu, or the particular spice mixes, are what distinguish Balinese food from the rest of Indonesia. Everyday food is as simple as our breakfast this morning. Families will do their cooking in the morning and eat throughout the day as needed. The food will not necessarily be served warm, but it is likely to be spicy. Ceremonial food is a different story and preparation is usually done by the men, starting before dawn, for big occasions. No expense is spared. Typical Balinese dishes include

• lawar
• babi guling
• sate lilit
• betutu
• sayur urab
• burbur injin

There are many cooking schools that offer morning or afternoon cooking classes that usually involve a trip to the market as well. Janet deNeefe's book, The Food of My Island Home is an excellent kitchen companion.

When eating out, you soon learn which places have your favourite version of any dish. In my experience, it's usually the first one you try that sets the benchmark for any others.

So thanks to Wayan for her breakfast gift this morning, which has served as the inspiration for today's post.

*The image has come from flickr, the food cart on a rainy day is mine, taken from the car.
**Indonesian, rather than specifically Balinese food

The bad with the good

I guess we have done well up until now to never have experienced a real problem here. Not just on this trip, but in many years of coming here. Our health has been good, and we have not experienced any other difficulties at all.

I have been thinking for a while about writing a post about the practicalities of living here. And I will. Soon. One, of course, is money. We have a weekly budget for this cash economy, withdrawn each Monday morning from the ATM, and even with exchange rates and bank fees, the system has worked for us. Until this morning.

Because of limits, two equal transactions are needed. The first went well. The second timed out. Why did I try again? The third also timed out and now on the bank statement are three withdrawals and in our hand, one lot of cash.

Hiccup? Skimming? Who knows. The first call back to the bank in Australia chewed up all the mobile credit quick smart and dropped out before we could explain properly.

While topping up at Bintang Supermarket, the ever-helpful Balinese man who has been doing this for us all year, gave us the dial out code that makes international calls cheaper. For our provider, Telkomsel, it's 01017 followed by the country code, then the number. How did we not know this? But we do now, and the second call cost about 70 cents.

Now we have a waiting game. But we have also learned something else that will be useful in future.

Not all rosy on the island

Much as we love being here, every so often we are reminded that things are done differently here. This is not Australia, or the US or any other Western democracy. We are living here - as guests - in Indonesia. Sometimes things happen that we are not happy about, but as foreigners we are powerless to act. When I wrote about this film*, I felt as uneasy as when I was watching it. This post is equally difficult to write.

The latest, very sad problem, concerns BAWA, who have been doing wonderful work rescuing and rehabilitating Bali's many animals, mainly dogs, but cats and other animals too. Now their licence to operate is under threat and they have been given a very short window to meet stipulated requirements.

There are many rumours flying around about the circumstances. My reading is that the founder's home was raided recently and the authorities claim that the (11? 13? 16? - it varies) dogs living there did not have rabies immunisation. BAWA of course denies these allegations. Rabies is certainly back in the area, but it seems highly unlikely that BAWA dogs would be a threat, given that helping eradicate it is their mission.

So what is going on? Maybe it's the forthcoming APEC summit. With 10 presidents, including Obama, and prime ministers turning up shortly, getting rid of dogs and beggars will create a better look. Every country does it, even Western democracies, so Indonesia is not alone in scrubbing up. But it's just BAWA, not the other animal welfare groups, that is being targeted and that suggests to me that there is an agenda. I could be wrong but maybe someone has offended someone else, who has a bit of clout, and they have chosen to exercise their power. There are certain mechanisms that make wheels go around here, after all.

Social media here has exploded. And that is a problem. Impulsive outraged posts, not tempered by reflection, are likely to exacerbate the situation by further alienating authority and reinforcing the view that Westerners are meddlesome. Unfortunately there is a coterie of expats who feel they have a duty to save the Balinese from themselves. You see it particularly in the animal sector and the environment. There can be a patronising 'we know best' attitude that can fail to take cultural factors into account. The actual doers, who set up the charities and employ local people to help make genuine change, seem to be sensitive to local conditions, but hasty ill-informed commentary helps nobody.

Many people don't realise that unless they have the correct visa, work - even volunteer work - is not permitted. Visa cancellation, and possible future entry refusal, is a reality. BAWA and other groups would not exist without volunteers, and authorities, until now, have not interfered. This situation cannot be jeopardised for the sake of the many needy charities here.

Fortunately many Balinese people are as upset as the bules about the BAWA situation. They know who has influence and how best to approach them so that the animals of Bali can continue to receive the help they need. Financial and medical support for BAWA is still required and hopefully with the help of concerned Balinese people, the situation will be resolved quickly.

They do things differently here. It's complicated.

It was very difficult to select an image for this post. There are many very distressing ones on line, and many that are too cute. In the end I chose one that we took ourselves of a lovely healthy fellow in Jl Goutama. Nothing wrong with his legs - he got up and had a good stretch soon after. All Bali dogs should be like him. Unfortunately, even with a collar, dogs like him are disappearing or being poisoned unless the owners keep them in at night.

* Being screened again during the Ubud Writers and Readers Festival next month.

Pondok Pekak Library

Another visit to Ketut yesterday jogged my memory that I had not yet written about Pondok Pekak Library and Resource Centre. Yes, believe it or not, this is the third visit to Ketut's traditional boreh massage place (aka House of Pain), but I have been opting for marginally less intensive treatments, such as shoulder and leg massages. Firm, but not as eye-watering as the reflexology. Eddie meanwhile has had his third full boreh treatment and declares that he feels great. I tried boreh last week. I didn't mind the messy paste part, but I found the sauna slightly claustrophic, although the herbs smelled wonderful. As an aside, Wayan's (the reflexology master) first child was born last week so he has been taking some parental leave. A little girl, also called Wayan. Of course.

The common denominator with Ketut's place and Pondok Pekak is Made Sumendra, who is connected with both. He started the library along with his late wife Laurie Billington in 1995 with the aim to introduce reading and culture to local children who had no access to books. Situated on the east side of the football field, there is not much indication of what to expect as you enter the distinctive archway. Beyond is a traditional family compound, and to the right is the entrance to what appears to be a small room. Not so! The space expands to reveal an extensive collection* of well organised books leading to an even larger space with a children's collection in a variety of languages, a reading area, and an activity area complete with gamelan. There is even more space upstairs.

The library was built as an annex to the family compound and named after Made's grandfather, Pekak Mangku. It's lovely to know that Pondok Kekak literally translates as 'grandfather's little resting house in the rice field'. As well as a lending service, for which a modest fee** is payable, the centre offers cultural classes in wood carving, offerings, fruit and vegetable carving, gamelan, silver jewellery making, Balinese dance and traditional painting - all the arts of Bali. It also serves as a practice space for choirs, language classes, poetry readings and other performances.

This fabulous resource is another haven of peace from the Jl. Monkey Forest bustle and well worth a visit if you are in town. The library is always in need of books, but particularly Indonesian language children's books. Books can be donated or purchased new at the also-wonderful Ganesha Bookshop. It's a very practical way for visiting book lovers to help.

*More than 10000 items
**Rp250,000 a year for all you can read, or a refundable deposit for short-term visitors

Orchids

Particularly lovely, and prolific, at the moment.

What's in a name?

There's an series of advertisements on Australian television that have captured the public imagination. They are funny and flirty and take a self-deprecating dig at Australian tourists here in Bali. The ongoing Ketut and Rhonda story has even spawned a t-shirt industry in Kuta, although some of the slogans could be more tasteful. Non-Australians must wonder.

Ketut is a common Balinese name, but even more so is Wayan. Why is it so? It took a number of trips to Bali before we started to figure out the naming system here. At first glance it seems simple. Male or female, it makes no difference - first child Wayan, second child Made, third child Nyoman, fourth child Ketut. Any more than four, and it starts all over again. The male indicator in a name is I, the female, Ni. Thus you always know that I Wayan [insert family name] is male and the first born in his family, and Ni Wayan [insert family name] is female. Possibly confusing, but simple. Well, not quite - there's a bit more to it.

This naming system only applies to the Sudra caste, an estimated 93% of the population. But if that is the case, why do we hear other names like Putu or Komeng?

That's because even the Balinese probably feel a bit over-Wayaned. The name Wayan comes from the Balinese word 'wayahan', meaning eldest. But the first born can also be named Gede or Putu. Second born children can be Made, Kadek or Nengah, third born Nyoman or Komeng, but Ketut will always be Ketut.

The social hierarchy in Bali becomes evident through the naming system, so people are always aware. The Balinese language must be used at the correct level (there are three) of propriety according to who is being addressed; and intermarriage between castes is not supposed to happen, although face can be saved through various ploys. A mock kidnapping is the most common - once the young couple have 'run off' together, well, what can a family do?

The three other castes, in ascending order with Sudra at the bottom are:

• Wesya - merchants (names: Dewa, Sang, Gusti)
• Satria - warriors and kings (aristocratic titles: Gusti Agung, Anak Agung, Cokorda)
• Brahmin - priests and teachers (aristocratic titles: Ida Bagus, male; Ida Ayu, female)

Thus each Balinese is always aware of the caste of another and knows whether to pay deference or receive it. Murni's article and this one are worth reading to learn more. The ever-helpful Bali Advertiser even has a chart.

The other thing our ears are noticing is the Balinese (Indonesian?) way of abbreviating words. Unlike in English, nicknames come from the end of a name, not the beginning, so Wayan could be Yan and Ketut becomes Tut. Similarly, the quick way of saying 'thank you' (terima kasih) to turn it into 'thanks' is makasih. 

Living and learning. Writing all this down helps me get my head around it too.

A Balinese hero

On one of our trips to Denpasar recently, I bought an Indonesian school atlas. For less than $1, it has proven to be hugely informative. Maps of all the provinces, lists of provincial capitals and major towns, heights of mountains, which volcanoes are considered active and at the back, portraits of national heroes. All in Bahasa Indonesia of course, but very visual, as you expect an atlas to be. There is only one Balinese name on this list of heroes* that I could see, I Gusti Ngurah Rai.

We have been flying into Bali for many years, but we have never really thought too much about the name of the airport, Ngurah Rai International. We had also noticed the handsome young man with the same name on the Rp 50000 note, but with the familiarity of banknotes, again we never thought to enquire. It was time to make amends.

A little investigation led to the realisation that less than an hour's drive away was a memorial park in Margarana for all the Balinese who died fighting for independence against the Dutch at the end of World War Two. I Gusti Ngurah Rai was a key leader of the resistance, and he died on 20th November 1946 at the age of 29 along with all his troops, in a puputan, or fight to the death, rather than surrender. This event is referred to as the Battle of Margarana.

Our sat nav wasn't particularly useful and just as we were ready to give up, there was the sign we had been looking for. (This happens quite a bit). Margarana is apparently seldom visited by foreigners, but holds the same place in the hearts of Balinese people that the War Memorial in Canberra does for Australians.

The park itself is truly beautiful. A few Balinese families were there on a glorious day enjoying the tranquillity.

Well tended lawns, gardens and ponds led to the area at the back with rows and rows of headstones. It is always sobering and immensely sad to visit the site of war graves. We had heard that several Japanese soldiers were buried here too. They had stayed behind after the occupation to join the independence struggle, but we could not find their resting place and there were no guides. The small museum wasn't open, but peering through the windows it looked to be very interesting. A major commemoration is held on the site on November 20 each year.

The longer we stay here, the more we realise there is so much we don't know, but we are now marginally less ignorant about a man who remains a hero, not just to the Balinese people, but to all Indonesians.

*A handful of women are regarded as National Heroes. One, Kartini, is being celebrated at this year's Ubud Writers and Readers Festival, so I will also write about her soon.

More on ceremonies

Some additional comments about ceremonies.

On the way home from our Seminyak weekend on Sunday, we passed an enormous gathering in the village of Lotunduh. Everyone looked extra smart, especially the women, who all wore headbands, their hair done in a particular way, a white lace kebaya and a yellow sash. This is the best I could do from the car and we are still not sure what it was about.

On Sunday evening we became aware of something else going, on fairly close by, that went into the early hours. It wasn't the usual chanting, but more a commentary by various voices, male and female, over a loudspeaker. We found out the next morning that this was one of the final ceremonies for the cremation that we watched a few weeks ago. The families were speaking for their loved ones before the ashes are taken to the river for their final journey to the sea, so that rebirth can occur.

There's something to learn every day.