Further Education

We spend the day visiting temples and local markets, ending up at Uluwatu temple watching the amazing Kecak dance in front of a stunning sunset. But mostly, what we do is talk.

And it's brilliant. One good conversation - I've said it before - is worth more than all the sight seeing in the book.

We have a guide. He is Balinese. And, once he realises we are interested, (though he is still surprised to find out exactly how interested) he opens the flood gates. And he power hoses us with information. And so all I can do is hose you in turn.

• Though it generally means very little now, in terms of social standing if not wealth, Balinese society is divided into four 'Castes'. The Sundra caste covers manual laborours, craftsmen, farmers etc. The Satrua caste is for warriors, the Wishna, for those in government and the Brahmana, who are priests. Though there was a time when children had to follow their father's into the same line of work, keeping the caste line intact, this is now more relaxed, though in many cases a family does continue in the same area, talents and aptitudes as well as materials and contacts tending to be passed down. Only the priests must have a male child to continue in this work, and if a family of Brahmana contains more than one boy child, they must chose only one to be a priest. Other than the priests there is no caste, wealth or occupational distinction made in the temples. Everybody makes the same number of offerings and attends the same ceremonies, regardless. In the temples, our guide is quick to note, everybody is equal.
• Within the Sundra caste only, children are given set names depending on the order of their birth. The first born son is named Wayan, the second Made, the third Gnyoman and the fourth Ketut. There is a similar system for females. At the birth of a fifth child, the names go back to Wayan, though with an added 'balik' in the name to distinguish from the first Wayan in the family. (This rather explains the fact that it seems as though everyone we have met has been called Wayan or Made!)
• The other castes don't distinguish order of birth, but do have a special 'caste' name within their full name to designate their caste. 'Agung', for example, designates the governing Wishna caste. So our friend Agung Rai has ancestors who governed.
• Every regency in Bali (of which there are 33) is governed by a specific local council, and customs and religious requirements may vary between them. This applies especially to death. It is common however for the dead to be buried initially for a period of up to five years, on the anniversary of which the bones are exhumed and cremated, to assist the soul in leaving the body. After cremation the ashes are taken to the Bat Cave, a holy place in the East of the island, where the ashes are scattered and a special ceremony and prayers are held to request that the dead person, on their reincarnation, be returned as a member of the same family (though this may be generations later).
• Moksha, the state in which a person has transcended the cycle of birth and reincarnation, is very rarely achieved except in the case of very holy aesthetics or hermits.
• After a new baby is born, it is taken to see the priest who reads the baby's hand to divine the identity of the reincarnated soul, which may also dictate the baby's given name. I am unsure how specific this process is, and whether the divination is of the caste or occupation of that soul, as opposed to it's actual name.
• In every village there are three temples, (Pura) one, the Pusa, is dedicated to the creator, Brahma, another, the Desi, to Wishnu the protector and finally the Dewa, dedicated to Shiva the destroyer. Though it varies I get the impression that Shiva is often considered the most important.
• The number of offerings to be given per day may depend on the regency and the type if work done by the individual. But generally at keast two offerings are made, in the morning and afternoon. They consist of small palm leaf baskets containing flowers, in the ascribed colours for the relevant God, crackers, possibly coins or maybe a cigarette. Before eating the first meal if the day, a portion of the cooked food (usually rice) is offered to God. This is generally eaten by stray animals. Which seems to be fine. God can take many forms and, I think, is present in everything including animals though I may not have that part exactly right, because it turns out that people here do perform animal sacrifices, sometimes in quite a big way. (More on that another day).
• Dance is used both as an offering, a summoning of good or bad spirits to be thanked or appeased, a method of recalling Balinese to their faith principles and as entertainment. Some dances, costumes and masks are so sacred that they are only used in ceremonies, others can be used for fun or for profit (70% of Bali's income is tourism, the rest agriculture. They don't export much.)
• Market sellers in traditional markets have their own market sellers' temple, called a Melanting temple. They give an offering at this temple prior to opening and pray for a successful day.
• Babies must attend a special baby temple before they set foot (literally) in the other temples, which in practice means when they are three months and can walk, to be blessed and to seek permission to enter the main temples.
• Education in Bali is free for Kindergarten and Elementary school (which they leave when they are thirteen). After that education must be paid for.
• There are three main types of ceremonies (yadnya). Dewa yadnya are for offerings or summoning of God. Pitrna yadnya for human dead and Manusa yadnya, human ceremonies, including an entreaty four months from the due date of a new baby to keep the baby safe, a baby ceremony at three months, birthdays, weddings and teeth filing ceremonies. These human ceremonies are held in the temple each Balinese has in the centre courtyard if their house. Only Dewa ceremonies happen in the village temple and Pitrna at the cemetery or bat cave.
• Every year, a ceremony is performed in which a cow is thrown into the ocean to appease Dewa Baruna, the God of the sea and to protect against tsunami. Whether this was done prior to the 2004 tsunami and whether it worked, I do not know.
• Tanah Lot, the temple erected on what looks like an island of rock in the sea, is the site of a fresh water spring, in the sea. It become impossible to reach at high tides which cover the spring situated in a cave underneath. Yet there is still spring water. The water is deemed to be holy. The site is absolutely beautiful. 
• The gate to the temples, like a wall split in half, is known as a Candi Bendar and will neautralise bad spirits as you walk through it. The second wall in the centre of the courtyard, opposite the Candi Bendar and blocking direct access to the main alter is there as a second block to bad spirits - as they can only travel in straight lines.
• Tourists have no manners. Our guide is amazed and grateful because I hesitated at the door of a temple, unsure if I am adequately dressed. Apparently many bikini clad tourists just walk in. We watch the amazing Kecak dance (traditional dance telling an extract from the story of Ramayana, with the show totally stolen by the bare chested men who chant 'kechak' all the way through to provide both backing music and props (they are the forest, the magic circles, the monkey army) and the dancer playing Hanuman who kicks (with happy health and safety free abandon) balls of burning coconut husks around the stage. The tourist audience turns up late and leaves early in a constant stream. I am horrified and embarrassed. The performance is only one hour long. When it finishes, and the lovely man who introduced it, saying he was good so many nationalities could be here and that this dance would strive for peace amoung them, comes back to wish us all goodnight, everyone simply packs up and leaves, so that he becomes swallowed up in a leading crowd, still trying to talk through his microphone and drowned out by the noise. My blood boils. I'm not sure I want peace. I want to rush up and round people up, herd them back to their seats and then nail them in place. Or make them have a go at kicking fire in bare feet. While I look bored and talk over them and leave. "What's that you say? You got burned and need medical attention? Oh I'm sorry I wasn't really listening.  Had something really inane I had to say to my friend. Anyway I'm off now, if you could just move your dance/agonised writhing out of my way. An hour is such a long time, you see. It's nearly as long as I take to eat dinner. And who could possibly sit through that?
• Rant over. (It was nearly as long as the performance). I can't adequately describe how fantastic Kecak is so here is a little treat. This is the opening. Sorry it's not the fire dance. We didn't record that. We were kind of too busy ducking the fire balls.....