Hello folks,
Selamat siang (Good day)!
This afternoon I depart from the island paradise of Bali and a
whole new journey begins as I head to India. My time on the
remote west coast with Dario was phenomenal. The village of
Balian and that stretch of marvelous coast has left me with
life-long memories. The local villagers are sweet and humble,
many are rice farmers and fishermen. Cows and chickens roam
freely through lush, rolling green hills, and people smile here
- big WIDE smiles. Women and men wear traditional, colorful
sarongs and often roam barefoot. A tiny street runs through the
village to the sea. In the afternoons, women come and go
balancing baskets of rice or fruit on their heads. This is a
side of Bali that is still virtually untouched by Western
philosophies. The Balian people are Hindu. In this "lost" part
of Bali, though we lived close to the earth and more or less
camped-out, we had at least one meal each day at a local
restaurant in either Balian or nearby Medewi. Local cuisine is
based around locally grown rice, tempeh, vegetables, and fresh
coconut-milk curries and peanut sauces. A huge vegetarian meal
would cost us a mere few dollars. Balian has left me with
peaceful eyes, a relaxed smile, memories of long, peeling,
turquoise waves, and a few jellyfish stings. Living in our tree
hut warung has left me with more than seventy mosquito bites
(yes, I counted - Balinese mosquito bites are quite intense -
many of them turn into huge welts, so I've come to know each of
them well). Fortunately, almost all of the bites are on my legs
and feet and between tea tree and lavender oils and several
hours of soaking them in salt water everyday via surfing, they
never really bothered me too much. The strange thing is, these
mosquitos are so sly here I could never catch them biting me -
and my organic citronella insect repellents were basically
worthless. It's all good though. Ultimately, there's a give
and a take in every aspect of our lives. If you want to live in
a warung on the tropical coast of Bali, there's a price. Just
so, with our modern everyday conveniences, our cars, our
technologies, our fast-paced lives, our jobs... Everything has
a price, an effect, a result, something that must be given, or
sacrificed. We have so many choices to make...
On the fourth day at Balian, I broke a fin during an amazing
morning surf. Fortunately, there were a few spare boards at the
village. One was a classic, rainbow green, mid-1970's
single-fin. Dario and I resurrected this board which probably
hasn't been ridden in decades, and after a few quick repairs, it
was ready for the water. The thing is: Balinese locals NEVER
wear or use green on or around the ocean. That color is
reserved for the Goddess of the South Seas. There are numerous
local legends about her power and her curses, and the Balinese
villagers simply don't fool around with stuff like that. So
here I am walking down the trail to the sea with this bright
green, 70's single-fin, reluctantly daring the Goddess to notice
me. This old Balinese fisherman approaches, stops me, looks at
the board, and then says a whole bunch of stuff in Bahasa of
which I understood nothing. I looked at him and smiled, looked
down at the board, and then gestured with my hand toward the
ocean. I wish I knew what he said, but he closed our encounter
with a laugh and one of those sweet Balinese smiles. I felt it
to be his way of warning me, yet offering me a blessing. My own
ceremony to the Goddess of the South Sea (and every other
Goddess I know of - just in case) followed on the hot, black
sand before I entered the ocean. Then I paddled out on that
green piece of surfing history with total humility, a good dose
of cautiousness, and a great respect for the powers that rule
that land and sea. What happened? My session was marvelous.
It was like going back in time to another era, and I felt rushes
of that universal Goddess energy enfolding me on every wave. It
was fast, flying-by-the-seat-of-my-pants, rocket style surfing.
The session turned out to be one of the most highly-charged,
spiritual surfing experiences I have ever had in my life. Whew!
My last couple of days have been spent in the artistic heart of
the island, a town called Ubud, and relaxing at Randall's house
in the lush highlands overlooking the Ayung River. Ubud is home
to some of the island's most adept wood carvers, weavers,
sculptors, etc. Like I mentioned in my last posting, Balinese
art is a celebration of their deep spirituality, their sincere
relationship to their Hindu faith, and the Hindu and Buddhist
deities whom they honor. We saw a beautiful performance of a
dance called Barong and Legong, where dancers in very colorful,
traditional Balinese costume enact stories from the Hindu epic,
Mahabharata. They were accompanied by a live Gamelan
(traditional Indonesian music) orchestra of about 25 villlagers
with various percussion, drums, bells, gongs, and flutes.
Incredible.
In a handful of hours, I fly to Hong Kong and catch another
flight which will bring me into Delhi (northern India) by about
1:00 a.m. After a couple days of settling into India (if such a
thing is possible), I plan on seeking out my Tibetan Buddhist
monk friends at their temple in Delhi and journeying to
Dharamsala in the north. Another adventure begins.............
Blessings to all, near and far...
Stay well,
Ari
George Greenough deep in the pocket.
