Saturday, September 02, 2006
Sat 26 August
Waking up this morning was an amazing experience. Remember last night we arrived in the pitch dark...
I need to set the scene...
The village we are staying in is 5 minutes drive from Ubud (a touristified artisans township) up in the mountains 1 hour drive from Kuta/Denpasar. It is a rural village where they grow rice, 'water spinach', ducks and chooks. Mostly for their own use but if there is anything left over I expect they trade/sell it.
Our house was extememly posh by Balanese locals standards but pretty basic as far as European 'holiday homes' go.
Our house was surrounded by rice paddies on three sides and over looked a deep gorge and mountain side at the front. It was 2 story - the upstairs was our bedroom and downstairs was a 'living' room and bathroom and outdoor verandah.
So...we woke up to ducks quacking and the incesant clonk, clonk, clonk (of a wind powered bird frightener in the rice paddy we found out later). Looking out the windows all around the upstairs I was struck by the feeling of being transported to another time and place (place certainly, but it is 2006 here too). There were women out in the paddies harvesting rice, men shepherding ducks in the harvested paddocks to clean out the left rice and naturally fertilise the paddocks, there was a chook and her chickens clucking and scratching in our little garden.
When I went down Wayan was putting ceremonial gifts out in the garden temple for her gods - the balanese do this everyday to bless their every activity. They are very devout Hindus and have many ceremonies with gifts to the gods of varying opulance. Even the cars have a little offering put in them everyday to bless them for safe travel (a nice thought considering the madnesson their roads - motor bikes, trucks, vans everywhere).
I am summerising the Village life here. I learned so much just from watching and listening. In my opinion they are lovely people down troden by corruption of the system. They work hard everyday. There is no such thing as a weekend. And they live well below any poverty line we wish to set - and still have a fantastic positive outlook on life. They know they are poor - they see westerners everyday, and have TV to see how other Indonesians live...
In our village area our host probably had the only inside toilet. Not sure if they had a shower...They had a lovely kitchen but just one small room for 4 people to sleep in and their living space was under the tank stand. They were very well off as far as cleanliness and resources. Most Balanese live in family compounds. I certainly didn't see inside a posh one - although we did pass someon our travels. But the compounds around us were dirt with 3-4 one-room huts. The cooking was done on communal fires , they washed in the creek/storm water drain/ sewer. There was no plumbing - although there seemed to be electricity for basic lighting.
The 'creek' was the centre of their existance. They washed themselves, their clothes, the slaughtered ducks were plucked and cleaned in the creek, we even saw kids going to the toilet in the creek...and they drank and cooked with that water too. mmm...needless to say we drank bottled water.
Running out of time on the internet so will continue later...
Waking up this morning was an amazing experience. Remember last night we arrived in the pitch dark...
I need to set the scene...
The village we are staying in is 5 minutes drive from Ubud (a touristified artisans township) up in the mountains 1 hour drive from Kuta/Denpasar. It is a rural village where they grow rice, 'water spinach', ducks and chooks. Mostly for their own use but if there is anything left over I expect they trade/sell it.
Our house was extememly posh by Balanese locals standards but pretty basic as far as European 'holiday homes' go.
Our house was surrounded by rice paddies on three sides and over looked a deep gorge and mountain side at the front. It was 2 story - the upstairs was our bedroom and downstairs was a 'living' room and bathroom and outdoor verandah.
So...we woke up to ducks quacking and the incesant clonk, clonk, clonk (of a wind powered bird frightener in the rice paddy we found out later). Looking out the windows all around the upstairs I was struck by the feeling of being transported to another time and place (place certainly, but it is 2006 here too). There were women out in the paddies harvesting rice, men shepherding ducks in the harvested paddocks to clean out the left rice and naturally fertilise the paddocks, there was a chook and her chickens clucking and scratching in our little garden.
When I went down Wayan was putting ceremonial gifts out in the garden temple for her gods - the balanese do this everyday to bless their every activity. They are very devout Hindus and have many ceremonies with gifts to the gods of varying opulance. Even the cars have a little offering put in them everyday to bless them for safe travel (a nice thought considering the madnesson their roads - motor bikes, trucks, vans everywhere).
I am summerising the Village life here. I learned so much just from watching and listening. In my opinion they are lovely people down troden by corruption of the system. They work hard everyday. There is no such thing as a weekend. And they live well below any poverty line we wish to set - and still have a fantastic positive outlook on life. They know they are poor - they see westerners everyday, and have TV to see how other Indonesians live...
In our village area our host probably had the only inside toilet. Not sure if they had a shower...They had a lovely kitchen but just one small room for 4 people to sleep in and their living space was under the tank stand. They were very well off as far as cleanliness and resources. Most Balanese live in family compounds. I certainly didn't see inside a posh one - although we did pass someon our travels. But the compounds around us were dirt with 3-4 one-room huts. The cooking was done on communal fires , they washed in the creek/storm water drain/ sewer. There was no plumbing - although there seemed to be electricity for basic lighting.
The 'creek' was the centre of their existance. They washed themselves, their clothes, the slaughtered ducks were plucked and cleaned in the creek, we even saw kids going to the toilet in the creek...and they drank and cooked with that water too. mmm...needless to say we drank bottled water.
Running out of time on the internet so will continue later...
# posted by The Essence of Good Taste @ 10:17 AM 
