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Romantic Journeys

Romantic Journeys: The back roads of Bali

by Chalerm Raksanti

Bali hangs like a glowing emerald in the necklace of the Indonesian archipelago. Lava-flanked peaks, two of them active, roof the island’s ninety mile length. Streams tilt down slopes shingled with fertile rice paddies. Though Java lays only a mile away, fierce currents and reefs long isolated Bali. This isolation favored the development of its distinct culture.

Preparation for tooth filing ceremony

Spiritual values are the strongest motivating force of life on the island, and prompt the exuberant festivities which punctuate most of Balinese life. Their religion is a complex and imaginative blend of Hinduism, animism and ancestor worship. Hinduism’s deepest inroads into Bali’s animism came in the 16th century, after the armies of Islam had defeated the powerful Madjapahit Hindu dynasty. In East Java the weak Hindu princes capitulated, but the undaunted fled across the mile-wide strait to Bali, accompanied by musicians, poets, dancers and artists.

Within a century, Dutch explorers, lured to the East Indies by spices, built a commercial empire in Indonesia. Bali’s treacherous reefs and unpredictable currents caused these voyagers to sail on safer shores. Thus insulated, the seeds of Java’s transplanted Hindu culture took root and flourished for almost 400 years in Bali under the refugee princes who carved up the island into tiny kingdoms. The Balinese culture endured a history fraught with turbulence and violence. It has weathered a Dutch domination, Japanese occupation during WWII, the war of Indonesian independence, and the bloody foiling of a Communist coup attempt.

Deity dressed for a part

Today Bali faces the invasion of tourists; what the Balinese call the ‘jet invasion’. But for the romantic sojourner, it is still possible to seek out Bali’s special moments. Paradise (like the visions or dreams which inspire us to create such a concept) lies in the eye and the mind of the beholder. More than just a place, Bali is an impression, a feeling and an experience. Roaming through Bali’s rice-rich heartland, the visitor can trek through wild scrub jungle in the west, up to the limestone cliffs at the southern tip of the island, and to northern plantations of coffee and coconut. And along the back roads of this tropical jewel, the Balinese will welcome you. But whatever they are doing, they do for themselves, and not for your entertainment.

One ancient custom which is still practiced in the villages is the tooth filing ceremony. The joyous ritual, performed for both sexes, protects against the evil in human nature. This is a ceremony which marks the coming of age for pubescent youngsters. A priest rubs a gold ring on the boy or girl’s mouth, and then he wields his tapered file until he grinds down the six upper front teeth until they are all even. The event is nerve wracking, but almost painless.

Balinese life is influenced by innumerable gods and a rich tapestry of occult and the mysterious world of the unseen. Many of their festivals are extravaganzas for the gods. Women of Tulikup, a village near the southeast coast, thread their way through a palm-ached pathway bearing offerings of good and flowers on a three mile march to the sea. Behind them, a snake-like column that stretches across a mile of rice paddies, men bring images of deities from the village temple for an annual cleansing in the Indian Ocean. This done, the islanders will joyously feast on the offerings of duck, rice and fruit.

Trance dancers

Young girls from the village of Kintamani, in the shadow of the smoldering volcano Batur, perform the sanghyang deling, a trance dance. This is one of the rituals that dramatize the villagers’ constant awareness of the supernatural world. As a chorus chants to a flute and drum, older women choose certain girls whom they believe are particularly receptive to the influence of the gods. A mystic priest prepares a brazier of burning incense, and puppet masters manipulate two sacred puppets, making them dance. Soon the girls are transfixed and grow drowsy. Their eyelids droop and they slide forward and, at last, deep in a trance, they begin a dreamlike dance, gliding and twirling, oblivious to everything around them. They shuffle barefoot through a bed of smoldering coconut shells. Then the priest frees, unhurt, from the spell.

It takes only a brief encounter with the menacing surf gnawing at Bali’s coastline to understand why the Balinese regard the sea as the domain of their demons, and why their gods choose to dwell in the mountains. Of course demons pose no threat to tourists who flock to the beaches in droves. But most tourists only travel paved roads, which bypass the small villages to avoid overwhelming the quiet local life. Balinese culture is stronger than the tourist.