Today is the first day of Caka Year 1930 in the Balinese calendar system. As we are familiar with the solar and lunar calendar systems, Bali uses different calendar system called Wuku (based on the week). There are 30 weeks in one cycle (Balinese: oton) and two oton in one year. So an oton has 210 days, a year in the Balinese calendar system has 420 days. The Balinese calendar system is used mainly for religious purposes also to know the auspicious days for many life's activities: farming and raising animals, starting a business, setting the ceremony dates, or… making baby.
On the first day of the Caka Year, the Nyepi Day, the Balinese are encouraged to do Catur Brata Penyepian (four kinds of fasting): amati geni – no fire and no light means use no cooker and electricity; amati karya – no work means do nothing; amati lelungan – no traveling means stay home; and amati lelanguan – no amusement means no watching television or listening to radio. It begins before the sunrise to the next 24 hours. It is expected that people use the day for self-introspection.
The past few days business were already less busy. The Balinese were preparing melasti or ceremony at the beach or holy springs to purify the ceremonial instruments. The ceremony must be finished before the sun goes down. In some places, we could see people making ogoh-ogoh – a giant doll made from bamboo frames, which are intricately woven, tied, and then covered with paper mache. They are made in the form of creatures of the underworld known by Balinese as Butakala. The creatures are based on characters taken from traditional myths and legends, but sometimes it also takes the form of modern characters that represent the bad spirit.
The Balinese share their time in the community to look after two important aspects of life: joy and sorrow. Every banjar (community) made three to five ogoh-ogoh of various sizes. Some are small for kids to carry. And at least one is huge that needs about thirty strong men as bearers of the horizontal bamboo poles like multi-poles palanquin.
At twilight yesterday the ogoh-ogoh paraded through the main road of Ubud as part of the Pengrupukan Day. After the parade, ogoh-ogoh that is a symbol of the demon's spirits would ceremoniously be burned to symbolize that the bad spirits have been destroyed. The burn is held in the nearby cemetery.
It's fun watching the boys so excited to participating the parade. They all wore uniforms, many with black top. As always, a group of percussions (baleganjur) with gong, cymbals, and gamelan followed the parade with uplifting beat to scare off the demons. All ogoh-ogoh were rested in the soccer field before paraded through the main road and stopped in the main junction of Ubud to do some fifteen-minute performance. The bearers danced in such a way that the ogoh-ogoh could move like they were alive. I believe the groups had gone many practices to be able to move their feet to the same direction. Or, they might have a conductor that the novice couldn't see.
In the soccer field I observed a wonderful mix of people. The foreigner population is significant. The kids from an international school also made a cute small ogoh-ogoh with dragons that they also carried the way Balinese do. Some foreigner ladies wore Balinese outfit. It looked like there were more foreigner locals than the tourists.
I sensed that many people were a bit anxious to face a day of do nothing. Or more, a day of confinement. While abstain from food is suggested, yesterday people rushed to supermarket to buy lots of food to make sure they wouldn't be starving today.
It is a quiet day. I only hear bird and rooster singing, some tropical insects shrieking, with dogs barking in afar. I hear no one raking leaves and talking. Even my neighbor had a whisper sneeze. When I did yoga by the window this morning, for the first time I heard the water-pump filling up the tank. The noise is like a long Om chant. Magical.
While I enjoy the peaceful day, I wish you the same wherever you are.
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om
Source: The Ubud Community free booklet.
7.3.08
5.3.08
Personal Grooming, Indo-Style
By Amy Chavez
For The Bali Times
I learned long ago from the Indonesians to always inspect my face in the mirror. The mirror of a motorbike, that is. No place and no time is inappropriate for a little personal grooming, and with so many motorbikes at rest in parking lots and along streets, there is always a mirror available should you be, God forbid, out for a walk when the urge hits you for a facial inspection. Furthermore, a motorbike provides a seat, just in case you need to bring out your eyebrow tweezers to do some immediate plucking.
It was during one of these motorbike mirror sessions that I realized I had somehow gone from having crow’s feet to having centipede feet. It was time to find out what Bali’s beauty treatments were all about.
I rocked into one of my favorite spas, where I had been many times for other things but never a facial. A facial takes an hour, during which time the eyes must be kept closed. Since you can’t see anything, you have no idea what they are really doing to your skin. Unfortunately, this leaves much to the imagination.
The facial started out with a light face massage. As the spa lady’s fingers danced across my face, I felt the way a guitar must as the musician nimbly strums it. Alas, no music was produced and I rather became worried that she might bring out the plectrum and start picking my nose.
Soon to follow was a strange tickling sensation. I’m pretty sure the spa lady had just released a nest of ants on my face and was letting them crawl all over, zigzagging and meandering about, while their little feet massaged my face. Keep in mind that these are Indonesian ants, so small and cunning they can even get into sealed packages. These are ants that instantly invade an empty soda can and lap up the liquid along the rim.
Just when my face started feeling uncomfortably crawly and itchy, I felt suction on my face. This must have been the frog hired to eat up the ants. I could even hear him smack his lips after each suck. Then I remembered the English menu had read, “Take black spot out by vacuum.” Of course, it wasn’t a frog but a Hoover sucking up the ants. Nothing like a good face vacuuming. I hoped she wouldn’t leave any vacuum strokes in the nap.
Next, she said she’d take out the whiteheads. I didn’t know I had any but she assured me I did — they were just hidden. Her trained eye could see them! Whiteheads of what, I’m not sure, but perhaps from the ants that had been decapitated during the vacuuming. These she dug out with tiny very sharp shovels. “No pain no game,” she assured me in her best English.
When I heard the gentle rolling noise of a cement mixer, I knew it was time for the mask. After she applied this “active mud,” within moments my face became unmovable, like stone. So this is where Rodin statues come from.
After the mask was removed, accompanied by a loud sucking noise that could be heard all the way to Sumatra, I could finally see again. My tender face was definitely ready for the next step, “refresh face with cucumber.” I never thought I’d be so happy to have cold vegetables sitting on my face.
Next was “acne care with herb.”
“But I don’t have acne,” I said. But her trained eye could probably see it anyway.
When I thought we must be finished, she said, “Don’t you want to get rid of your mustache?”
“My what?”
“That mustache on your upper lip.” I had never really considered the silky blonde hairs on my upper lip, but now that her trained eye had noticed them, they seemed embarrassingly hideous.
“Away with the mustache!” I declared.
This required waxing, a euphemism for ripping out hairs with adhesive. She painted on the wax, which looks like molasses, and within seconds pulled it off. “No pain, no game,” she reminded me. I looked at the strip of wax with my hairs adhered to it and thought - molasses looks good with a mustache.
I knew it was time to get out of there when her trained eye noticed my eyebrows needed to be shaped. I passed on the eyelid and lip tattoos also.
I was on my motorbike in Denpasar the other day waiting for the traffic lights to turn green - a perfect opportunity for a facial inspection. In a moment, I had brought out my tweezers and deftly removed one blackhead and two stray eyebrow hairs. How embarrassing that I hadn’t noticed those earlier in the day! Just as I was admiring my newly naked upper lip, I noticed something odd. What was that hideous-looking thing on my chin?
By God, I’ve started growing a beard.
When the lights turned green, I turned my motorbike around and headed straight for the spa.
For The Bali Times
I learned long ago from the Indonesians to always inspect my face in the mirror. The mirror of a motorbike, that is. No place and no time is inappropriate for a little personal grooming, and with so many motorbikes at rest in parking lots and along streets, there is always a mirror available should you be, God forbid, out for a walk when the urge hits you for a facial inspection. Furthermore, a motorbike provides a seat, just in case you need to bring out your eyebrow tweezers to do some immediate plucking.
It was during one of these motorbike mirror sessions that I realized I had somehow gone from having crow’s feet to having centipede feet. It was time to find out what Bali’s beauty treatments were all about.
I rocked into one of my favorite spas, where I had been many times for other things but never a facial. A facial takes an hour, during which time the eyes must be kept closed. Since you can’t see anything, you have no idea what they are really doing to your skin. Unfortunately, this leaves much to the imagination.
The facial started out with a light face massage. As the spa lady’s fingers danced across my face, I felt the way a guitar must as the musician nimbly strums it. Alas, no music was produced and I rather became worried that she might bring out the plectrum and start picking my nose.
Soon to follow was a strange tickling sensation. I’m pretty sure the spa lady had just released a nest of ants on my face and was letting them crawl all over, zigzagging and meandering about, while their little feet massaged my face. Keep in mind that these are Indonesian ants, so small and cunning they can even get into sealed packages. These are ants that instantly invade an empty soda can and lap up the liquid along the rim.
Just when my face started feeling uncomfortably crawly and itchy, I felt suction on my face. This must have been the frog hired to eat up the ants. I could even hear him smack his lips after each suck. Then I remembered the English menu had read, “Take black spot out by vacuum.” Of course, it wasn’t a frog but a Hoover sucking up the ants. Nothing like a good face vacuuming. I hoped she wouldn’t leave any vacuum strokes in the nap.
Next, she said she’d take out the whiteheads. I didn’t know I had any but she assured me I did — they were just hidden. Her trained eye could see them! Whiteheads of what, I’m not sure, but perhaps from the ants that had been decapitated during the vacuuming. These she dug out with tiny very sharp shovels. “No pain no game,” she assured me in her best English.
When I heard the gentle rolling noise of a cement mixer, I knew it was time for the mask. After she applied this “active mud,” within moments my face became unmovable, like stone. So this is where Rodin statues come from.
After the mask was removed, accompanied by a loud sucking noise that could be heard all the way to Sumatra, I could finally see again. My tender face was definitely ready for the next step, “refresh face with cucumber.” I never thought I’d be so happy to have cold vegetables sitting on my face.
Next was “acne care with herb.”
“But I don’t have acne,” I said. But her trained eye could probably see it anyway.
When I thought we must be finished, she said, “Don’t you want to get rid of your mustache?”
“My what?”
“That mustache on your upper lip.” I had never really considered the silky blonde hairs on my upper lip, but now that her trained eye had noticed them, they seemed embarrassingly hideous.
“Away with the mustache!” I declared.
This required waxing, a euphemism for ripping out hairs with adhesive. She painted on the wax, which looks like molasses, and within seconds pulled it off. “No pain, no game,” she reminded me. I looked at the strip of wax with my hairs adhered to it and thought - molasses looks good with a mustache.
I knew it was time to get out of there when her trained eye noticed my eyebrows needed to be shaped. I passed on the eyelid and lip tattoos also.
I was on my motorbike in Denpasar the other day waiting for the traffic lights to turn green - a perfect opportunity for a facial inspection. In a moment, I had brought out my tweezers and deftly removed one blackhead and two stray eyebrow hairs. How embarrassing that I hadn’t noticed those earlier in the day! Just as I was admiring my newly naked upper lip, I noticed something odd. What was that hideous-looking thing on my chin?
By God, I’ve started growing a beard.
When the lights turned green, I turned my motorbike around and headed straight for the spa.
Knights of the Square Table
By Mark Ulyseas
For The Bali Times
So you want to know more about Bali?
All this time while I’ve been crying myself hoarse about culture, people, food and high-jinx on Kuta Beach, you are probably bored and need a fix of the real world.
Well it’s time to introduce you to a place affectionately referred to by many locals and travelers as one of ill repute. No, I‘m not talking about you-know-what and you-know-where. But about a warung that has gained in reputation as a place to be seen, heard and then felt. There are Chinese whispers about the shenanigans of the irregulars at Naughty Nuri’s in Ubud.
I admit I am one of the irregulars at this warung, along with the likes of Victor Mason, the bird and butterfly man; Wolfgang Widmoser, the famous surrealist painter who worked with Salvador Dali; “John.” a legend in his own mind; a curious bevy of beautiful visitors (Donna Karan, Barbara Streisand, Anthony Bourdain etc.) from around the globe; and the ubiquitous “Do you know who I used to be?” long-time resident.
Folks, this is a warung that takes no prisoners. It’s not for the fainted-hearted nor for the toffee-nosed. It’s sheer magic when you sit behind Dad’s New York Martini with a delicately placed olive that glistens in the tungsten light, golden rays reflecting off the rippling surface. And when you bend over to sip, the ambrosia reality hits you. What you think is a martini in the classical sense is really very cold neat vodka or gin. No vermouth or anything else. A few gasps later, one usually gets the drift and then a rhythm forms. Many rounds later there is no “last man standing” or, for that matter, woman standing … most are either head down on the table or under the table. I have had the privilege of witnessing such displays and once, on a full moon when sanity and insanity met for a night, I was there gazing at the stars on the surface beneath the table.
I walked into Nuri’s sometime ago, when I needed to wet my whistle late one afternoon while driving through Ubud on my way back from Kintamani to Seminyak. A few irregulars were lounging around at the long wooden tables that are characteristic of warungs. They are sort of community tables where everyone sits anywhere and next to anybody. It’s a great way to meet new people. At Nuri’s there’s a special table that is square and at which all the irregulars congregate from 8am to 10:30pm. These are the knights of the square table. Many days wallowing at this waterhole has made me feel at one with them. It’s only recently that I have been referred to as an irregular, a badge of honor that I wear with pride. I am now officially a knight of the square table.
At the entrance is an open, overworked barbeque that functions tirelessly to gently grill their famed pork spareribs smothered in homemade sauce. Of course, pork or chicken satay and steak are also on offer. The menu that reads like a dyslexic person has written it covers most Indonesian dishes, with Western sensibilities punctuating the monotony - like Wolfgang’s favorite Slice Steak (made with succulent Australian beef). The sambal that rests inconspicuously on every table in a light-blue plastic container has been the fall of many an intrepid traveler who has generously helped himself or herself to it, oblivious to the aftereffects. Often the results are instant, which show on their faces in the colors of the rainbow.
Brian and his wife Nuri started Naughty Nuri’s. How many years ago, you may ask? This question is irrelevant. In Bali you must remember that fantasy and fiction are bedfellows and facts are normally what’s in front of you - like their margaritas.
This is a reception centre for newly arrived wannabes who assume setting up residence in Ubud is a cinch and that life here is quite laidback. They come to the warung with stories that are often incredulous. After a few draft beers or martinis the truth emerges and then life begins for them in earnest. They are accepted and invited to the square table. Sometimes in a generous mood, a knight may offer to buy them a drink.
An interesting aspect of the warung is that it doubles up as a meeting point for the Hash House Harriers. Victor Mason, who is a veteran of the hash, invites people to join in the “runs.” The hash was started at The Royal Selangor Club in Kuala Lumpur in 1938 as a great pastime where everyone runs along a given path strewn with telltale signs of paper strips left by a “hare.” The people who follow the trail are called hounds. The race is open to all and ends in a blaze of beer drinking and gaiety. Victor terms the Hash House Harriers drinkers with a running problem.
Every Thursday, when it is Sushi night, the warung fills up with expats, knights and many Chinese tourists. But the best time to be there is when most of the knights are around to create a ruckus. Often when a knight uses purple prose, Brian moves in to half-heartedly announce that it is a “family restaurant” but no one really pays heed. The only time I have seen things get out of control is when an inebriated young lady’s garment fell off as she waited on the sidewalk for a taxi. Surprisingly, there was little or no response from the irregulars or other guests.
Just the other day I bumped into Danny and his gorgeous wife Mairead at the warung. This lively Irish couple, on the first pint, began serenading the knights at the square table with the song Danny Boy. Soon the revelry turned to ditties and “other songs.” All we needed was a campfire and the picture would have been complete. This is what it is all about. Instant karma.
Naughty Nuri’s is not just a restaurant or warung or bar or pub or whatever. It’s an institution dedicated to the sublime and the ridicule.
I wonder what Papa Hemingway would have to say about it?
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om
For The Bali Times
So you want to know more about Bali?
All this time while I’ve been crying myself hoarse about culture, people, food and high-jinx on Kuta Beach, you are probably bored and need a fix of the real world.
Well it’s time to introduce you to a place affectionately referred to by many locals and travelers as one of ill repute. No, I‘m not talking about you-know-what and you-know-where. But about a warung that has gained in reputation as a place to be seen, heard and then felt. There are Chinese whispers about the shenanigans of the irregulars at Naughty Nuri’s in Ubud.
I admit I am one of the irregulars at this warung, along with the likes of Victor Mason, the bird and butterfly man; Wolfgang Widmoser, the famous surrealist painter who worked with Salvador Dali; “John.” a legend in his own mind; a curious bevy of beautiful visitors (Donna Karan, Barbara Streisand, Anthony Bourdain etc.) from around the globe; and the ubiquitous “Do you know who I used to be?” long-time resident.
Folks, this is a warung that takes no prisoners. It’s not for the fainted-hearted nor for the toffee-nosed. It’s sheer magic when you sit behind Dad’s New York Martini with a delicately placed olive that glistens in the tungsten light, golden rays reflecting off the rippling surface. And when you bend over to sip, the ambrosia reality hits you. What you think is a martini in the classical sense is really very cold neat vodka or gin. No vermouth or anything else. A few gasps later, one usually gets the drift and then a rhythm forms. Many rounds later there is no “last man standing” or, for that matter, woman standing … most are either head down on the table or under the table. I have had the privilege of witnessing such displays and once, on a full moon when sanity and insanity met for a night, I was there gazing at the stars on the surface beneath the table.
I walked into Nuri’s sometime ago, when I needed to wet my whistle late one afternoon while driving through Ubud on my way back from Kintamani to Seminyak. A few irregulars were lounging around at the long wooden tables that are characteristic of warungs. They are sort of community tables where everyone sits anywhere and next to anybody. It’s a great way to meet new people. At Nuri’s there’s a special table that is square and at which all the irregulars congregate from 8am to 10:30pm. These are the knights of the square table. Many days wallowing at this waterhole has made me feel at one with them. It’s only recently that I have been referred to as an irregular, a badge of honor that I wear with pride. I am now officially a knight of the square table.
At the entrance is an open, overworked barbeque that functions tirelessly to gently grill their famed pork spareribs smothered in homemade sauce. Of course, pork or chicken satay and steak are also on offer. The menu that reads like a dyslexic person has written it covers most Indonesian dishes, with Western sensibilities punctuating the monotony - like Wolfgang’s favorite Slice Steak (made with succulent Australian beef). The sambal that rests inconspicuously on every table in a light-blue plastic container has been the fall of many an intrepid traveler who has generously helped himself or herself to it, oblivious to the aftereffects. Often the results are instant, which show on their faces in the colors of the rainbow.
Brian and his wife Nuri started Naughty Nuri’s. How many years ago, you may ask? This question is irrelevant. In Bali you must remember that fantasy and fiction are bedfellows and facts are normally what’s in front of you - like their margaritas.
This is a reception centre for newly arrived wannabes who assume setting up residence in Ubud is a cinch and that life here is quite laidback. They come to the warung with stories that are often incredulous. After a few draft beers or martinis the truth emerges and then life begins for them in earnest. They are accepted and invited to the square table. Sometimes in a generous mood, a knight may offer to buy them a drink.
An interesting aspect of the warung is that it doubles up as a meeting point for the Hash House Harriers. Victor Mason, who is a veteran of the hash, invites people to join in the “runs.” The hash was started at The Royal Selangor Club in Kuala Lumpur in 1938 as a great pastime where everyone runs along a given path strewn with telltale signs of paper strips left by a “hare.” The people who follow the trail are called hounds. The race is open to all and ends in a blaze of beer drinking and gaiety. Victor terms the Hash House Harriers drinkers with a running problem.
Every Thursday, when it is Sushi night, the warung fills up with expats, knights and many Chinese tourists. But the best time to be there is when most of the knights are around to create a ruckus. Often when a knight uses purple prose, Brian moves in to half-heartedly announce that it is a “family restaurant” but no one really pays heed. The only time I have seen things get out of control is when an inebriated young lady’s garment fell off as she waited on the sidewalk for a taxi. Surprisingly, there was little or no response from the irregulars or other guests.
Just the other day I bumped into Danny and his gorgeous wife Mairead at the warung. This lively Irish couple, on the first pint, began serenading the knights at the square table with the song Danny Boy. Soon the revelry turned to ditties and “other songs.” All we needed was a campfire and the picture would have been complete. This is what it is all about. Instant karma.
Naughty Nuri’s is not just a restaurant or warung or bar or pub or whatever. It’s an institution dedicated to the sublime and the ridicule.
I wonder what Papa Hemingway would have to say about it?
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om
By Golly, That Ain't the Correct Indonesian!
Amy Chavez
For The Bali Times
Some linguists in Bali are apparently upset about some new trends in the Indonesian language, mainly the increased use of bahasa gaul, or slang Indonesian which is a mixture of Jakarta Malay and Indonesian. Some examples of bahasa gaul are okedeh (alright) or gakpapa (tidak apa apa - no problem) and kasihan deh lu (pity you).
I don’t see anything wrong with bahasa gaul myself. As a matter of fact, I have a hunch that those who started bahasa gaul are Indonesians who have spent a few years living abroad, in the United Kingdom or the United States. These Indonesians said, “Hey Ya! English slang is totally awesome! We wanna have some too.”
On my planet, the US, we have something called Ebonics (sometimes referred to as African American Vernacular English), the language used by some African Americans that has now been recognized as a dialect of English. Rap and Hip Hop music further import new vocabulary and slang into the American English lexicon.
But “Hey Ya!” it doesn’t stop there. There are all kinds dialects as well as slang used around the US. Where I am from in the Mid-West, commonly referred to as “redneck” country, we have our special language as well. In red neck language every noun must be qualified by two adjectives, one always being “frick’n” as in the sentence: “It’s a frick’n nice day” or, “We had a frick’n great time.” When the sentence is negative in tone, either “frick’n” or “darn blasted,” can be used as in: “This darn blasted rainy weather is upset’n my arthritis.” Furthermore, in proper redneck dialect, all answers to questions should be prefaced with “By golly,” as in:
“Have you seen that frick’n scuzball Johnson?”
“By golly, I ain’t seen hide nor hair of him since he crashed my tractor.”
“He frick’n took off with my wife,” he says, banging the front door so hard that it knocks off the “Beware of Dog” sign into his lawn full of plastic deer, gnomes and plastic daisies twirling in the wind.
Dude, like, remember the Valley Girl talk of the 80’s (stop laughing - see how entertaining language can be?), further popularized in Frank Zappa’s Valley Girl song and through the movie Valley Girl? So what if everyone was talking like a Valley Girl for a while there? Don’t have a cow about it!
Or how about the Sloanies in London? Soz darls, but language is sooooooooo constantly changing and evolving. Anyhu, language should be fun, and if Indonesian language can’t be fun then kasihan deh lu! If you can’t see bahasa gaul as a form of embracing the Indonesian language, a way of making it our own, then go ahead and be a geek; I can dig that, but take a chill pill.
The linguists cite interviews with celebrities as one of the culprits of spreading bahasa gaul, in addition to the use of bahasa gaul by TV and movie characters. Oh, whatever! Aren’t actors merely being true to their culture by using the local lingo.
The linguists further worry that people will no longer speak proper Indonesian and that they will not respect it. If bahasa gaul is truly “slang” then it will, like Valspeak and Sloanglish, come in and out of vogue on its own. If it hangs around long enough to become a true dialect, then it will be exactly that — a dialect widely used by many, or maybe even most, Indonesians. But that doesn’t mean it is going to degrade standard Indonesian. There is no reason why bahasa gaul and standard Indonesian can’t exist side by side. Despite the media spread of bahasa gaul through pop culture and even radio (which, after all is a spoken form of entertainment, so should reflect the language and culture of the day), standard Indonesian will still be taught in schools and will be used as a the written form of the language.
Which is why I’m not so sure why some people are so frick’n upset ‘bout bahasa gaul. Gakpapa! It ain’t like it’s taken over the world. Jus like there gonna be English slang, there gonna be Indo slang. What’s the diff? Dialects and slang are certainly not unique to Indonesian.
But what surprises me most is that the linguists have acknowledged that it is the young people who are the ones changing the language. They cite a “crisis of youth” in which the youth - mostly teenyboppers - have the power to change the Indonesian language, apparently indefinitely. Yet young people are never the ones to change the world — not until they get older, that is, and that is when most people grow out of slang. Slang is the hallmark of young people, whom older people really don’t want to be like!
So natural is it, apparently, to want to talk outside of your standard native tongue that recently the word “conlang” has sprung up to describe constructed languages people have invented. There are almost 2,000 made up languages available on the internet now and you can even make up your own at Langmaker.com.
Okedeh. Now, if you don’t mind, evict yourself.
For The Bali Times
Some linguists in Bali are apparently upset about some new trends in the Indonesian language, mainly the increased use of bahasa gaul, or slang Indonesian which is a mixture of Jakarta Malay and Indonesian. Some examples of bahasa gaul are okedeh (alright) or gakpapa (tidak apa apa - no problem) and kasihan deh lu (pity you).
I don’t see anything wrong with bahasa gaul myself. As a matter of fact, I have a hunch that those who started bahasa gaul are Indonesians who have spent a few years living abroad, in the United Kingdom or the United States. These Indonesians said, “Hey Ya! English slang is totally awesome! We wanna have some too.”
On my planet, the US, we have something called Ebonics (sometimes referred to as African American Vernacular English), the language used by some African Americans that has now been recognized as a dialect of English. Rap and Hip Hop music further import new vocabulary and slang into the American English lexicon.
But “Hey Ya!” it doesn’t stop there. There are all kinds dialects as well as slang used around the US. Where I am from in the Mid-West, commonly referred to as “redneck” country, we have our special language as well. In red neck language every noun must be qualified by two adjectives, one always being “frick’n” as in the sentence: “It’s a frick’n nice day” or, “We had a frick’n great time.” When the sentence is negative in tone, either “frick’n” or “darn blasted,” can be used as in: “This darn blasted rainy weather is upset’n my arthritis.” Furthermore, in proper redneck dialect, all answers to questions should be prefaced with “By golly,” as in:
“Have you seen that frick’n scuzball Johnson?”
“By golly, I ain’t seen hide nor hair of him since he crashed my tractor.”
“He frick’n took off with my wife,” he says, banging the front door so hard that it knocks off the “Beware of Dog” sign into his lawn full of plastic deer, gnomes and plastic daisies twirling in the wind.
Dude, like, remember the Valley Girl talk of the 80’s (stop laughing - see how entertaining language can be?), further popularized in Frank Zappa’s Valley Girl song and through the movie Valley Girl? So what if everyone was talking like a Valley Girl for a while there? Don’t have a cow about it!
Or how about the Sloanies in London? Soz darls, but language is sooooooooo constantly changing and evolving. Anyhu, language should be fun, and if Indonesian language can’t be fun then kasihan deh lu! If you can’t see bahasa gaul as a form of embracing the Indonesian language, a way of making it our own, then go ahead and be a geek; I can dig that, but take a chill pill.
The linguists cite interviews with celebrities as one of the culprits of spreading bahasa gaul, in addition to the use of bahasa gaul by TV and movie characters. Oh, whatever! Aren’t actors merely being true to their culture by using the local lingo.
The linguists further worry that people will no longer speak proper Indonesian and that they will not respect it. If bahasa gaul is truly “slang” then it will, like Valspeak and Sloanglish, come in and out of vogue on its own. If it hangs around long enough to become a true dialect, then it will be exactly that — a dialect widely used by many, or maybe even most, Indonesians. But that doesn’t mean it is going to degrade standard Indonesian. There is no reason why bahasa gaul and standard Indonesian can’t exist side by side. Despite the media spread of bahasa gaul through pop culture and even radio (which, after all is a spoken form of entertainment, so should reflect the language and culture of the day), standard Indonesian will still be taught in schools and will be used as a the written form of the language.
Which is why I’m not so sure why some people are so frick’n upset ‘bout bahasa gaul. Gakpapa! It ain’t like it’s taken over the world. Jus like there gonna be English slang, there gonna be Indo slang. What’s the diff? Dialects and slang are certainly not unique to Indonesian.
But what surprises me most is that the linguists have acknowledged that it is the young people who are the ones changing the language. They cite a “crisis of youth” in which the youth - mostly teenyboppers - have the power to change the Indonesian language, apparently indefinitely. Yet young people are never the ones to change the world — not until they get older, that is, and that is when most people grow out of slang. Slang is the hallmark of young people, whom older people really don’t want to be like!
So natural is it, apparently, to want to talk outside of your standard native tongue that recently the word “conlang” has sprung up to describe constructed languages people have invented. There are almost 2,000 made up languages available on the internet now and you can even make up your own at Langmaker.com.
Okedeh. Now, if you don’t mind, evict yourself.
Lost and Found in Bali
By Mark Ulyseas
For The Bali Times
al•ter e•go n
1. a second side to an individual’s personality, different from the one that most people know
2. a very close and trusted friend
(Encarta World English Dictionary)
Morning blues color the face when one peers in the mirror and the image that stares back is unrecognizable after the debauchery of the night before. We look away for fear of confronting our alter ego – the sprite that resides in all of us: mischievous, cunning, loving, hateful and the shadow that stalks us through life.
So what is it that makes us use, abuse and at times misplace our close and trusted friend in the mirror? And even those “friends” around us?
Memories and dreams are the culprits. They stand accused of keeping us in suspended animation, dulling reality. In the process, the link that holds one and a close friend together is broken and repaired many times over thus leaving it knobbly.
How can we rectify this situation? Is there any superglue that can fix the mirror images to prevent them falling apart and drifting downstream?
Maybe we need to discard old habits of looking in the mirror and try to rearrange or cover what we don’t like with the paintbrush of the ego. After this we probably should go out and make ourselves visible to the invisible sprites that dance before our eyes whenever we meet close friends. Reach out, touch them and attempt to make ethereal contact.
Easier said than done, some would say. But consider this – what if we didn’t have an alter ego - a trusted friend? Where would we be? Marooned in the world of un-belonging reality? One-dimensional beings?
Too many questions, too few answers. Well, let’s review our lives. Scroll back to the time we first made two close and trusted friends – one being the image in the mirror and the other a person. Those intense feelings of belonging to oneself and others invariably giving way to egotistical blunders, bordering on vanity and thereby cracking the mirror forever.
And as age moves on, the refracted image in the mirror distorts our lives permanently. We can retrieve memories but can never make them reality. For as one knows, virginity once lost can never be restored.
Here’s a classic example of a spat between two friends. Often the punch line sounds a bit like this: “You don’t know who I am. You will never know.” Of course, how will one know who the other person is when one doesn’t know one’s self?
The inscription at the oracle at Delphi – Know Thyself – is relevant today. If we begin to understand and know ourselves, then we will be in a position to view others in the correct perspective. Ever had a friend tell you, “Why did you do that? That’s not you! Is it?” And your answer in all likelihood would be, “Dunno” or “You don’t know me.”
Someone once told me that before we start loving others, we must first learn to love ourselves. To me this sounds a bit screwy. Are they suggesting perhaps that we become narcissists? Egocentrics? And then, with a bloated ego, we are expected to love other people? Whoever thought this one up was too long out on the tiles the night before and the blurred image in the mirror next morning tripped the reality fuse.
The truth for me was when I met Catherina at Warung Sobet in June this year, before she boarded a flight back to Paris. On seeing me, she cried about leaving Bali because she had made so many friends here and said she was returning post haste after selling her assets to purchase a house in Bali for a friend with whom she would live with happily ever after. This was evidently a decision she had made in the heat of the night, and as a well-wisher, I was determined to make her retract or at least review it. So the conversation went like this.
“Cathy, why do you want to return?”
“Mark, you remember meeting Wayan in Kuta? Well that’s the guy who’s going to stay with me. I adore him. I would do anything for him – anything.”
“Oh, but do you know why you came to Bali in the first place?”
“Yes, of course. My cat died and I was lonely. My job stinks. I needed to get out and find myself again.”
“Hold the thought. You said - to find yourself again?”
“Yes, I lost myself when my boyfriend of many years left me - for a guy! I couldn’t take the loss and humiliation. I felt I had lost a part of myself when he walked out of the door. You’re not a woman and you can never understand the trauma I went through. At least here there are no questions. One day at a time. I can live with that.”
“Darling, you missed the point. I asked if you have found yourself again.”
“I don’t know.”
“Then I suggest you first find yourself and then reach out to people around you.”
She never returned to Bali. I received an email a month later informing me she had a new cat and a new job but was still searching for herself. I wish her Godspeed.
Last I heard, Wayan was happily settled in Kuta with a charming girl from Spain. Maybe he had already found himself and simply needed a close friend to complete the equation.
Many a soul looks too far ahead. Some even attempt to peer over the horizon searching … when, in fact, it resides within us as our alter ego and around us in the form of trusted friends. All we need to do is to keep looking. Maybe the mirror trick every morning will finally bring results. Reaching out and touching friends with unselfish emotion could be the next best thing. Who knows?
I admit I have been searching for myself across continents these past few years but only realized in Bali that it was within me.
Now all I need to complete my equation is to find a trusted friend for the image in the mirror.
And I am sure there are many out there with the same predicament.
If only the twain could meet.
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om
For The Bali Times
al•ter e•go n
1. a second side to an individual’s personality, different from the one that most people know
2. a very close and trusted friend
(Encarta World English Dictionary)
Morning blues color the face when one peers in the mirror and the image that stares back is unrecognizable after the debauchery of the night before. We look away for fear of confronting our alter ego – the sprite that resides in all of us: mischievous, cunning, loving, hateful and the shadow that stalks us through life.
So what is it that makes us use, abuse and at times misplace our close and trusted friend in the mirror? And even those “friends” around us?
Memories and dreams are the culprits. They stand accused of keeping us in suspended animation, dulling reality. In the process, the link that holds one and a close friend together is broken and repaired many times over thus leaving it knobbly.
How can we rectify this situation? Is there any superglue that can fix the mirror images to prevent them falling apart and drifting downstream?
Maybe we need to discard old habits of looking in the mirror and try to rearrange or cover what we don’t like with the paintbrush of the ego. After this we probably should go out and make ourselves visible to the invisible sprites that dance before our eyes whenever we meet close friends. Reach out, touch them and attempt to make ethereal contact.
Easier said than done, some would say. But consider this – what if we didn’t have an alter ego - a trusted friend? Where would we be? Marooned in the world of un-belonging reality? One-dimensional beings?
Too many questions, too few answers. Well, let’s review our lives. Scroll back to the time we first made two close and trusted friends – one being the image in the mirror and the other a person. Those intense feelings of belonging to oneself and others invariably giving way to egotistical blunders, bordering on vanity and thereby cracking the mirror forever.
And as age moves on, the refracted image in the mirror distorts our lives permanently. We can retrieve memories but can never make them reality. For as one knows, virginity once lost can never be restored.
Here’s a classic example of a spat between two friends. Often the punch line sounds a bit like this: “You don’t know who I am. You will never know.” Of course, how will one know who the other person is when one doesn’t know one’s self?
The inscription at the oracle at Delphi – Know Thyself – is relevant today. If we begin to understand and know ourselves, then we will be in a position to view others in the correct perspective. Ever had a friend tell you, “Why did you do that? That’s not you! Is it?” And your answer in all likelihood would be, “Dunno” or “You don’t know me.”
Someone once told me that before we start loving others, we must first learn to love ourselves. To me this sounds a bit screwy. Are they suggesting perhaps that we become narcissists? Egocentrics? And then, with a bloated ego, we are expected to love other people? Whoever thought this one up was too long out on the tiles the night before and the blurred image in the mirror next morning tripped the reality fuse.
The truth for me was when I met Catherina at Warung Sobet in June this year, before she boarded a flight back to Paris. On seeing me, she cried about leaving Bali because she had made so many friends here and said she was returning post haste after selling her assets to purchase a house in Bali for a friend with whom she would live with happily ever after. This was evidently a decision she had made in the heat of the night, and as a well-wisher, I was determined to make her retract or at least review it. So the conversation went like this.
“Cathy, why do you want to return?”
“Mark, you remember meeting Wayan in Kuta? Well that’s the guy who’s going to stay with me. I adore him. I would do anything for him – anything.”
“Oh, but do you know why you came to Bali in the first place?”
“Yes, of course. My cat died and I was lonely. My job stinks. I needed to get out and find myself again.”
“Hold the thought. You said - to find yourself again?”
“Yes, I lost myself when my boyfriend of many years left me - for a guy! I couldn’t take the loss and humiliation. I felt I had lost a part of myself when he walked out of the door. You’re not a woman and you can never understand the trauma I went through. At least here there are no questions. One day at a time. I can live with that.”
“Darling, you missed the point. I asked if you have found yourself again.”
“I don’t know.”
“Then I suggest you first find yourself and then reach out to people around you.”
She never returned to Bali. I received an email a month later informing me she had a new cat and a new job but was still searching for herself. I wish her Godspeed.
Last I heard, Wayan was happily settled in Kuta with a charming girl from Spain. Maybe he had already found himself and simply needed a close friend to complete the equation.
Many a soul looks too far ahead. Some even attempt to peer over the horizon searching … when, in fact, it resides within us as our alter ego and around us in the form of trusted friends. All we need to do is to keep looking. Maybe the mirror trick every morning will finally bring results. Reaching out and touching friends with unselfish emotion could be the next best thing. Who knows?
I admit I have been searching for myself across continents these past few years but only realized in Bali that it was within me.
Now all I need to complete my equation is to find a trusted friend for the image in the mirror.
And I am sure there are many out there with the same predicament.
If only the twain could meet.
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om
Ubudians in the Hills of Camelot
By Mark Ulyseas
For The Bali Times
This is about cross-cultural fertilization…
The land of the rising sun in harmony with the morning of the world.
Of course, one can’t overlook the ubiquitous watering hole.
The jazz, sake and vodka.
Occasionally, I have spent leisurely hours wallowing at my favorite watering hole, downing gallons of draft beer and discussing Sartre while nibbling on chicken satay and pontificating on the travails of living in Camelot (often referred to as Ubud), complete with its bars, nightclubs, restaurants, art galleries.
Talk is cheap but liquor is quicker, as Doc. Dwarka (a visiting Ayurvedic specialist and doc to us) would declare. And what would I say? That my watering hole has now become a Chinese restaurant. In fact, one has to wrestle with the Sino customers to get a seat: you know, like musical chairs - the music being the sizzling sound of pork chops on the barby.
It was here that I had breakfast with an acquaintance, Chris Gentry, the other day. The mornings being the only time the irregulars can get a look-see. Over a meal of ribs, tuna sandwiches, fried eggs sunny side up and crispy bacon, washed down with large tumblers of Bloody Marys, we moan the intrusion into our watering hole by invading hordes of tourists from the Asian mainland. The time is 9:30am. I feel it is going to be one of those days when we will be here till closing time, a comforting thought considering the mayhem that surrounds us all in our daily grind.
Then Chris, in his inimitable bedside manner, gives me a few unsolicited ideas for future columns. I patiently listen to him wax eloquent on Ubudian society.
“Mark, do you know that there are over 150 Japanese women who have married Balinese and are living here in the villages in and around Ubud? My wife is Japanese, so I know.”
“I haven’t seen any women dressed like Japanese in Ubud, let alone elsewhere in Bali,” I reply.
He extols the virtues of the Japanese women who have married Balinese men and have adopted the local culture. They live like Balinese in thought, word, deed, dress and are indistinguishable from the locals - unlike many other expats who have retained their culture in terms of dress and lifestyles and some even their names, Made Wijaya, a friend, being the exception.
Isn’t this ironic as it was only in the last century that the Japanese invaded and occupied Bali? One can still see the tunnels that they built near Klungkung during WWII.
History is the sacred cow often sacrificed by the hands of forgotten memories. The spirits of the innocents who were killed in WWII in Bali must be keenly observing the migration of people like birds, the comings and goings of generations of foreigners on this island, probably pondering the rationale for the bloody past and the incentives for wars.
Just the other day, Graham, a buddy from Ibiza who spends six months a year in Ubud, took me to As One Lounge and Gallery to meet the Japanese couple that run the place – Chika Asamoto and her husband Hutomo Ishii. If you are a jazz fanatic, this is the place to hear Chika on the sax performing with local and visiting musicians. And while you sip sake, you can converse with Hutomo about his artworks, which grace the walls of the lounge. He is an artist who is in love with Bali.
Speaking to Chika and Hutomo, I begin to realize that time is only the vehicle; the essence is the heart of the people who adopt Bali as their home. They bring with them a culture and an acceptance of all things Asian that makes this experience so enriching.
A month ago, Jill Gocher, a photographer friend, took me for dinner to Hyroshi, the Japanese restaurant on the high street. Unfortunately, as I don’t eat seafood, the dinner was nasi bungkus with ayam for me. But the experience left me wondering about the Japanese who have settled in Bali. What has lured so many back?
Chika and Hutomo, the soft-spoken, hugely talented couple, don’t carry with them the burden of history. What they have brought to Ubud is the intrinsic passion for culture – art, music and the best sake in town.
Let us revert to Chris Gentry, an American who is married to a fine Japanese lady and resides in Ubud. Okay, I’ll not go off on a tangent on this one but suffice to say, Bali is the prime meridian between light and dark. Those who venture onto this isle must understand the rules of peaceful coexistence. Methinks Chris has got it down pat.
It is 6pm and doc grabs a copy of The Bali Times from me and starts reading it aloud. He abruptly stops and remarks, “The world is [expletive]. Take a look at this…” He hands me the paper, pointing to the Health page, which carries the news item “Doctors use Vodka Drip to Save Tourist.” Apparently, a man in Oz who tried to kill himself (like we all do while driving in Bali) was resurrected from near death by a constant drip of vodka for three whole days. Hooray! Our endless days of depravity have finally paid off. All along, we assumed that vodka would be the death of us. In fact, it has given life to someone, albeit in tragic circumstances. But on the flip side, can you imagine the hangover he must have had?
“So, doc, what do you have to say about this?” I ask.
“Absolute vodka saves absolutely,” he replies while sipping his sinful martini.
The morning has now become night, Chris has left and there are only a few stragglers, like doc and yours truly, sluggish at the square table.
Quietly, doc confides in me his dream to set up an Ayurvedic retreat somewhere in Europe. I announce that I plan to visit Japan to find out why my favorite Japanese writer Yukio Mishima - author of The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea - committed hara-kiri in his mid-20s. Oh well, we are like two sodden souls waiting for the Day of Atonement.
Later in the night while returning home, I hear Chika playing a soulful rendition of Louis Armstrong’s What a wonderful World, her saxophone wailing in the night. Whether it is real or imagined, I don’t know, but it strikes a chord in me. Could it be that the Morning of the World and the Land of the Rising Sun have found peace in each other … in Camelot?
To Chika Asamoto, her husband Hutomo Ishii and all the wonderful Japanese who have made Bali their home, I bow and say…
“Arikato.”
Thank You.
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om
For The Bali Times
This is about cross-cultural fertilization…
The land of the rising sun in harmony with the morning of the world.
Of course, one can’t overlook the ubiquitous watering hole.
The jazz, sake and vodka.
Occasionally, I have spent leisurely hours wallowing at my favorite watering hole, downing gallons of draft beer and discussing Sartre while nibbling on chicken satay and pontificating on the travails of living in Camelot (often referred to as Ubud), complete with its bars, nightclubs, restaurants, art galleries.
Talk is cheap but liquor is quicker, as Doc. Dwarka (a visiting Ayurvedic specialist and doc to us) would declare. And what would I say? That my watering hole has now become a Chinese restaurant. In fact, one has to wrestle with the Sino customers to get a seat: you know, like musical chairs - the music being the sizzling sound of pork chops on the barby.
It was here that I had breakfast with an acquaintance, Chris Gentry, the other day. The mornings being the only time the irregulars can get a look-see. Over a meal of ribs, tuna sandwiches, fried eggs sunny side up and crispy bacon, washed down with large tumblers of Bloody Marys, we moan the intrusion into our watering hole by invading hordes of tourists from the Asian mainland. The time is 9:30am. I feel it is going to be one of those days when we will be here till closing time, a comforting thought considering the mayhem that surrounds us all in our daily grind.
Then Chris, in his inimitable bedside manner, gives me a few unsolicited ideas for future columns. I patiently listen to him wax eloquent on Ubudian society.
“Mark, do you know that there are over 150 Japanese women who have married Balinese and are living here in the villages in and around Ubud? My wife is Japanese, so I know.”
“I haven’t seen any women dressed like Japanese in Ubud, let alone elsewhere in Bali,” I reply.
He extols the virtues of the Japanese women who have married Balinese men and have adopted the local culture. They live like Balinese in thought, word, deed, dress and are indistinguishable from the locals - unlike many other expats who have retained their culture in terms of dress and lifestyles and some even their names, Made Wijaya, a friend, being the exception.
Isn’t this ironic as it was only in the last century that the Japanese invaded and occupied Bali? One can still see the tunnels that they built near Klungkung during WWII.
History is the sacred cow often sacrificed by the hands of forgotten memories. The spirits of the innocents who were killed in WWII in Bali must be keenly observing the migration of people like birds, the comings and goings of generations of foreigners on this island, probably pondering the rationale for the bloody past and the incentives for wars.
Just the other day, Graham, a buddy from Ibiza who spends six months a year in Ubud, took me to As One Lounge and Gallery to meet the Japanese couple that run the place – Chika Asamoto and her husband Hutomo Ishii. If you are a jazz fanatic, this is the place to hear Chika on the sax performing with local and visiting musicians. And while you sip sake, you can converse with Hutomo about his artworks, which grace the walls of the lounge. He is an artist who is in love with Bali.
Speaking to Chika and Hutomo, I begin to realize that time is only the vehicle; the essence is the heart of the people who adopt Bali as their home. They bring with them a culture and an acceptance of all things Asian that makes this experience so enriching.
A month ago, Jill Gocher, a photographer friend, took me for dinner to Hyroshi, the Japanese restaurant on the high street. Unfortunately, as I don’t eat seafood, the dinner was nasi bungkus with ayam for me. But the experience left me wondering about the Japanese who have settled in Bali. What has lured so many back?
Chika and Hutomo, the soft-spoken, hugely talented couple, don’t carry with them the burden of history. What they have brought to Ubud is the intrinsic passion for culture – art, music and the best sake in town.
Let us revert to Chris Gentry, an American who is married to a fine Japanese lady and resides in Ubud. Okay, I’ll not go off on a tangent on this one but suffice to say, Bali is the prime meridian between light and dark. Those who venture onto this isle must understand the rules of peaceful coexistence. Methinks Chris has got it down pat.
It is 6pm and doc grabs a copy of The Bali Times from me and starts reading it aloud. He abruptly stops and remarks, “The world is [expletive]. Take a look at this…” He hands me the paper, pointing to the Health page, which carries the news item “Doctors use Vodka Drip to Save Tourist.” Apparently, a man in Oz who tried to kill himself (like we all do while driving in Bali) was resurrected from near death by a constant drip of vodka for three whole days. Hooray! Our endless days of depravity have finally paid off. All along, we assumed that vodka would be the death of us. In fact, it has given life to someone, albeit in tragic circumstances. But on the flip side, can you imagine the hangover he must have had?
“So, doc, what do you have to say about this?” I ask.
“Absolute vodka saves absolutely,” he replies while sipping his sinful martini.
The morning has now become night, Chris has left and there are only a few stragglers, like doc and yours truly, sluggish at the square table.
Quietly, doc confides in me his dream to set up an Ayurvedic retreat somewhere in Europe. I announce that I plan to visit Japan to find out why my favorite Japanese writer Yukio Mishima - author of The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea - committed hara-kiri in his mid-20s. Oh well, we are like two sodden souls waiting for the Day of Atonement.
Later in the night while returning home, I hear Chika playing a soulful rendition of Louis Armstrong’s What a wonderful World, her saxophone wailing in the night. Whether it is real or imagined, I don’t know, but it strikes a chord in me. Could it be that the Morning of the World and the Land of the Rising Sun have found peace in each other … in Camelot?
To Chika Asamoto, her husband Hutomo Ishii and all the wonderful Japanese who have made Bali their home, I bow and say…
“Arikato.”
Thank You.
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om
Lifecycle - A Balinese Perspective
By Ketut Suardana
For The Bali Times
UBUD ~ The Universe sometimes exists and sometimes doesn’t exist. When it exists it is called Srsti or Brahman Diva (The Day of the God). And when it ceases to exist, that day is called Pralaya (Destroyed) or Brahman Nekta (The night of the God).
Nature and people follow the same cyclic pattern of birth, destruction and rebirth.
The Essence of a Human Being
People are often called Atmaja, Anuja, Ganma and Purusha.
Truth is manisfestation of Anu. In Sanskrit Anu means Atom, a fragment of God.
Human beings represent this fragment and are called Atmaja, Anuja, Janma, which in reality means soul/Atma or Anu, born complete with body. The soul originates from Purusha because it is a fragment of God. Thus human beings need guidance from God through the Vedas and holy men.
People are born with intelligence and worldly senses. Their actions results in cause and effect that directly brings on pleasure and pain.
The Aim of Ceremony
The body and soul possess different aspects and therefore the Balinese perform ceremonies to keep both these elements harmonious, balanced, holy and secure. They cleanse the body and soul of reincarnation to protect their previous Karam. It is also the time when people seek a higher level on how to speak, think and act.
Normally holy men can lead the way by conducting religious ceremonies from the time we are conceived to the time we die. During the ceremony, water is blessed to make it holy. In Bali we call this Tirta Pengelu Katan. Subsequently, this holy water is used to purify us by cleansing our bodies. The other cleansing that must be done by us are: thoughts cleansed by honesty, soul cleansed by knowledge and discipline, intellect cleansed by wisdom.
The following four ceremonies must be conducted in sequence and are part of a whole.
Mabya Kala
This ceremony is done for Pancha Yadnya. The aim of this ceremony is to make sacrifices for Butha Kala (spirits) to prevent them from accepting any other ceremonial offerings in their honor in the area and hence they must depart from that place/people. This ceremony is normally performed in the yard of the temple or family compound.
Cleansing Ceremony
The aim of this ceremony is to cleanse the body and soul. The body is cleansed by holy water, and the soul purified by praying to a holy man and seeking his blessings.
Natab
This ceremony is done to invite divinities to come down from heaven to reside in our body so that we remain healthy and live a long fruitful life.
Praying
This ceremony is carried out after the Mabya Kala and Natab ceremonies. The aim of this praying is to seek the blessings from our ancestors and God. At the end of this ceremony we are blessed with holy water by the holy man.
Ceremonies through the Stages of our Life
I. Pegedone-Gedongan (Foetal stage)
Five months, according to the Balinese calendar (35 days in a month), or six months of the international calendar through pregnancy, the first ceremony is performed when foetus has formed. This is done to seek the Almighty’s blessings to make the body and soul of the unborn child clean and to ensure that when born, the child will be a good human being.
II. Ceremony at birth
There is no special ceremony at this stage, except that the placenta is washed in holy water and then placed inside a coconut. On top of the coconut is written Ongkara and at the bottom Ahkara. The coconut, fragrant flowers and thorns are wrapped in a white cloth. If it’s a baby boy, the coconut is planted on the right side of the house. And if it’s a girl, it is planted on the left side of the house.
III. Ceremony of the umbilical cord.
When the umbilical cord is cut, a ceremony is performed to cleanse the family compound. The cord is wrapped in a white cloth and placed in a box made of coconut leaves with some spices like clove, pepper etc. and hung close to the baby’s feet.
IV. Ngelepas Hawon
This ceremony is performed when the baby is 12 days old. The baby is cleansed with holy water, followed by prayers seeking God’s blessings to make the baby strong and healthy.
V. Kambuhan
This ceremony, called Mecolongan, is when the baby is 42 days old. It is carried out to cleanse the baby and the mother, thereby ensuring they can enter holy places.
VI. Ceremony when baby is 3 months
This ceremony is called Nelu Bulanin. The aim is to ensure that the soul remains in the body of the baby. It is also the time when parents name the baby. It is also known as “touching the ground” ceremony, which is done to seek mother earth guidance and protection.
VII. Ceremony when the baby is 6 months old
This is the first birthday of the baby as Balinese celebrate their birthdays - every six Balinese months comprising of 35 days each, which makes it every 210 days. It is also the time when the baby has its first haircut, to cleanse the Siwa Dwara (the head, which is the holiest part of the body).
VIII. Teething ceremony.
This ceremony is performed (when the baby starts teething) at sunrise to seek Brahma’s and Laxmi’s blessings so that the baby will have strong teeth.
IX. Ceremony when milk teeth fall out.
According to the Siwagama book, the baby no longer needs guidance by Sang Hyang Kumara and from then, it is no longer necessary to make offerings in the baby’s shrine.
X. Puberty ceremony.
Especially for girls, a ceremony is performed to the Moon Goddess, seeking her guidance and requesting the Goddess to provide a life partner for the girl. Prayers are also made asking God to make the girl a useful human being for the family and society at large.
To be continued next edition.
Semoga damai di bumi, damai di hati, damai di langit
Peace on Earth, peace in your heart, peace in the sky
For The Bali Times
UBUD ~ The Universe sometimes exists and sometimes doesn’t exist. When it exists it is called Srsti or Brahman Diva (The Day of the God). And when it ceases to exist, that day is called Pralaya (Destroyed) or Brahman Nekta (The night of the God).
Nature and people follow the same cyclic pattern of birth, destruction and rebirth.
The Essence of a Human Being
People are often called Atmaja, Anuja, Ganma and Purusha.
Truth is manisfestation of Anu. In Sanskrit Anu means Atom, a fragment of God.
Human beings represent this fragment and are called Atmaja, Anuja, Janma, which in reality means soul/Atma or Anu, born complete with body. The soul originates from Purusha because it is a fragment of God. Thus human beings need guidance from God through the Vedas and holy men.
People are born with intelligence and worldly senses. Their actions results in cause and effect that directly brings on pleasure and pain.
The Aim of Ceremony
The body and soul possess different aspects and therefore the Balinese perform ceremonies to keep both these elements harmonious, balanced, holy and secure. They cleanse the body and soul of reincarnation to protect their previous Karam. It is also the time when people seek a higher level on how to speak, think and act.
Normally holy men can lead the way by conducting religious ceremonies from the time we are conceived to the time we die. During the ceremony, water is blessed to make it holy. In Bali we call this Tirta Pengelu Katan. Subsequently, this holy water is used to purify us by cleansing our bodies. The other cleansing that must be done by us are: thoughts cleansed by honesty, soul cleansed by knowledge and discipline, intellect cleansed by wisdom.
The following four ceremonies must be conducted in sequence and are part of a whole.
Mabya Kala
This ceremony is done for Pancha Yadnya. The aim of this ceremony is to make sacrifices for Butha Kala (spirits) to prevent them from accepting any other ceremonial offerings in their honor in the area and hence they must depart from that place/people. This ceremony is normally performed in the yard of the temple or family compound.
Cleansing Ceremony
The aim of this ceremony is to cleanse the body and soul. The body is cleansed by holy water, and the soul purified by praying to a holy man and seeking his blessings.
Natab
This ceremony is done to invite divinities to come down from heaven to reside in our body so that we remain healthy and live a long fruitful life.
Praying
This ceremony is carried out after the Mabya Kala and Natab ceremonies. The aim of this praying is to seek the blessings from our ancestors and God. At the end of this ceremony we are blessed with holy water by the holy man.
Ceremonies through the Stages of our Life
I. Pegedone-Gedongan (Foetal stage)
Five months, according to the Balinese calendar (35 days in a month), or six months of the international calendar through pregnancy, the first ceremony is performed when foetus has formed. This is done to seek the Almighty’s blessings to make the body and soul of the unborn child clean and to ensure that when born, the child will be a good human being.
II. Ceremony at birth
There is no special ceremony at this stage, except that the placenta is washed in holy water and then placed inside a coconut. On top of the coconut is written Ongkara and at the bottom Ahkara. The coconut, fragrant flowers and thorns are wrapped in a white cloth. If it’s a baby boy, the coconut is planted on the right side of the house. And if it’s a girl, it is planted on the left side of the house.
III. Ceremony of the umbilical cord.
When the umbilical cord is cut, a ceremony is performed to cleanse the family compound. The cord is wrapped in a white cloth and placed in a box made of coconut leaves with some spices like clove, pepper etc. and hung close to the baby’s feet.
IV. Ngelepas Hawon
This ceremony is performed when the baby is 12 days old. The baby is cleansed with holy water, followed by prayers seeking God’s blessings to make the baby strong and healthy.
V. Kambuhan
This ceremony, called Mecolongan, is when the baby is 42 days old. It is carried out to cleanse the baby and the mother, thereby ensuring they can enter holy places.
VI. Ceremony when baby is 3 months
This ceremony is called Nelu Bulanin. The aim is to ensure that the soul remains in the body of the baby. It is also the time when parents name the baby. It is also known as “touching the ground” ceremony, which is done to seek mother earth guidance and protection.
VII. Ceremony when the baby is 6 months old
This is the first birthday of the baby as Balinese celebrate their birthdays - every six Balinese months comprising of 35 days each, which makes it every 210 days. It is also the time when the baby has its first haircut, to cleanse the Siwa Dwara (the head, which is the holiest part of the body).
VIII. Teething ceremony.
This ceremony is performed (when the baby starts teething) at sunrise to seek Brahma’s and Laxmi’s blessings so that the baby will have strong teeth.
IX. Ceremony when milk teeth fall out.
According to the Siwagama book, the baby no longer needs guidance by Sang Hyang Kumara and from then, it is no longer necessary to make offerings in the baby’s shrine.
X. Puberty ceremony.
Especially for girls, a ceremony is performed to the Moon Goddess, seeking her guidance and requesting the Goddess to provide a life partner for the girl. Prayers are also made asking God to make the girl a useful human being for the family and society at large.
To be continued next edition.
Semoga damai di bumi, damai di hati, damai di langit
Peace on Earth, peace in your heart, peace in the sky
Dharma of Women in Balinese Family Life
By Ketut Suardana
For The Bali Times
UBUD ~ The principles we need to adhere to in our daily lives are called Dharma. It is the realization of a moral code of life and contains within it the power to change the nature of things.
Animals are governed by basic instincts to feed, procreate and protect themselves and their young, whereas human beings have been given a choice and the right to choose for themselves, in the process creating a distinct life for themselves.
Woman’s duty as a sister, mother or wife is to educate the children and family as a Guru Rupaka (one of the Catur Gurus). The principle of Dharma is self-realization through spirituality, which remains the main aim of life - e.g. Artha/material world and Kama/desire, which are part of the Catur Purusha Artha through the stages of life (Catur Ashrama).
The Concept of Rwa Binedha
The Purusha and Pradana are the source of life between body and soul.
Rwa means two and Binedha different. This combination of Rwa Binedha has created black and white, day and night, big and small, right and wrong, Sekala and Nishkala (seen and unseen), male and female.
The Balinese family system is patriarchal according to the traditional law of Purusha. The man is head of the family, socially and religiously.
For example, when Balinese women get married, during the ceremony she accompanies her husband to her family compound to worship at her ancestors’ family temple. This ritual signifies that henceforth she will follow her husband’s clan.
Purusha denotes man and Pradana woman. There has been an ongoing controversy as to who is the stronger and more intelligent of the sexes. A Chinese proverb says it all, “A man thinks he knows, but a woman knows better.”
Vedas mention the fact that husband and wife should be together at all sacrifices, either religious or social.
In Bali, Besakih Temple, located in Karangasem, was built by our ancestors as a Purusha temple. This is where Balinese go to pray to reach a higher level of spirituality. And at Pura Batur in Batur, Kintamani, the Balinese consider this a Pradana temple where they pray for prosperity.
Dharma of the Women
A child is closer to its mother than father because the mother is an embodiment of affection through which the child fulfills all its needs.
The Bhakta/spiritual follower is closer to Mother Kali than Shiva as Shiva is absorbed in his meditation and the material world bears no attraction. Mother Kali is the supreme mother, the shakti (strength) of Shiva.
She cares for the world’s problems and guides the dedicated spiritual followers to God for their Moksah/last freedom. We depend upon Mother Kali from birth to death. She has promised all human beings that if they ever encounter problems and seek a solution, they should pray to her for guidance and help.
Woman in Indonesian is wanita, in Sanskrit vanita. The word van means beloved who could be a wife or girlfriend and ita, happiness. In Indonesian, woman is also perempuan. The root word of perempuan is empu.
In Hinduism, empu means a person who is magnificent, eminent and one who brings prosperity where ever they go. If empu is connected to perempuan or wanita, the person can become a nurturer of children and men as well.
To be born a human is a blessing as a human has the opportunity to do Cubha (good) or Acubha (bad). All bad deeds are countered by good deeds, which is the basis of Karma, according to the Sarasmuschaya Book.
Married Woman
A married woman needs the protection of her husband by way of trust and respect in order to build a sound base for a good family. This is the principle of Tatwamasi, a Balinese Hindu philosophy that talks of equality of sexes and the belief in Karma.
The Nitisastra Book says that birds have value because of their song and woman a good reputation as a result of her love and loyalty to her husband.
(Read the Ramayana wherein Sita prefers to leave the Ayodhya along with her husband Ram to live in exile in the jungles in spite of the fact that she could have remained in the palace.)
Woman as Housewife
The duty of the woman is to manage family life through a harmonious process of understanding the many aspects of worldly knowledge as well as spiritual beliefs. This makes it extremely difficult for her as this also involves taking care of the children, cleaning the home, making offerings and taking part in obligatory social and religious activities.
The Manusmerti Book says that the woman should be strong enough to control her thoughts, words and deeds so as not to ruin the honor of her husband as these efforts will enable her to be with her husband in heaven. The woman is considered a Budhiman, a person of high intelligence and sacrifice.
As a housewife, a woman has to adjust to her parents-in-law, in laws in general and her husband.
The Arthwa Veda says:
May not happen peril from friend, no peril from unfamiliar people.
No danger from familiar one, no danger from unfamiliar one.
In night no peril, no peril for us even in day.
May it happen that people from all walks of life become our friends.
Woman Continues Family Tree
According to the Balinese, woman is the seed that grows into a tree that bears fruit (children). It the tree does not bear fruit, how does one release one’s ancestors from hell who are hanging from bamboo trees as only the birth of descendants can release them?
Woman as Guide
Philosophy/Tattwa, Ethical/Susila and Ritual/Upacara are the basic knowledge that a woman gives to her children and various stages in their lives.
The Nisastra Book says:
When children are 5 years old, the family should treat them like kings
When they are 7 years old, the family must train them to be followers
When they are 16 years old, they must be treated like friends
And when they become adults, they need only to be guided by signs
Balinese women play a pivotal role in all rituals. The Manawadharmasastra Book says:
Women have to be respected and shown affection by their fathers, brothers, in-laws and husband.
Where women have been respected, it makes the deities happy. And when the women are not respected, all rituals performed in the home will be of no value.
According to the Bhagavid Gita (1-40), “The woman is the barometer of civilization and therefore man has an obligation to show her tolerance, loyalty, love and respect. If man does not do this, the ancient laws are destroyed and the family yields to lawlessness.”
Bhagavid Gita (1-41), “And when lawlessness prevails, O Varsneya (Krsna), the women of the family become corrupted and women are corrupted, confusion of the social structure arises.”
Semoga damai di bumi, damai di hati, damai di langit.
Peace on Earth, peace in your heart, peace in the sky.
For The Bali Times
UBUD ~ The principles we need to adhere to in our daily lives are called Dharma. It is the realization of a moral code of life and contains within it the power to change the nature of things.
Animals are governed by basic instincts to feed, procreate and protect themselves and their young, whereas human beings have been given a choice and the right to choose for themselves, in the process creating a distinct life for themselves.
Woman’s duty as a sister, mother or wife is to educate the children and family as a Guru Rupaka (one of the Catur Gurus). The principle of Dharma is self-realization through spirituality, which remains the main aim of life - e.g. Artha/material world and Kama/desire, which are part of the Catur Purusha Artha through the stages of life (Catur Ashrama).
The Concept of Rwa Binedha
The Purusha and Pradana are the source of life between body and soul.
Rwa means two and Binedha different. This combination of Rwa Binedha has created black and white, day and night, big and small, right and wrong, Sekala and Nishkala (seen and unseen), male and female.
The Balinese family system is patriarchal according to the traditional law of Purusha. The man is head of the family, socially and religiously.
For example, when Balinese women get married, during the ceremony she accompanies her husband to her family compound to worship at her ancestors’ family temple. This ritual signifies that henceforth she will follow her husband’s clan.
Purusha denotes man and Pradana woman. There has been an ongoing controversy as to who is the stronger and more intelligent of the sexes. A Chinese proverb says it all, “A man thinks he knows, but a woman knows better.”
Vedas mention the fact that husband and wife should be together at all sacrifices, either religious or social.
In Bali, Besakih Temple, located in Karangasem, was built by our ancestors as a Purusha temple. This is where Balinese go to pray to reach a higher level of spirituality. And at Pura Batur in Batur, Kintamani, the Balinese consider this a Pradana temple where they pray for prosperity.
Dharma of the Women
A child is closer to its mother than father because the mother is an embodiment of affection through which the child fulfills all its needs.
The Bhakta/spiritual follower is closer to Mother Kali than Shiva as Shiva is absorbed in his meditation and the material world bears no attraction. Mother Kali is the supreme mother, the shakti (strength) of Shiva.
She cares for the world’s problems and guides the dedicated spiritual followers to God for their Moksah/last freedom. We depend upon Mother Kali from birth to death. She has promised all human beings that if they ever encounter problems and seek a solution, they should pray to her for guidance and help.
Woman in Indonesian is wanita, in Sanskrit vanita. The word van means beloved who could be a wife or girlfriend and ita, happiness. In Indonesian, woman is also perempuan. The root word of perempuan is empu.
In Hinduism, empu means a person who is magnificent, eminent and one who brings prosperity where ever they go. If empu is connected to perempuan or wanita, the person can become a nurturer of children and men as well.
To be born a human is a blessing as a human has the opportunity to do Cubha (good) or Acubha (bad). All bad deeds are countered by good deeds, which is the basis of Karma, according to the Sarasmuschaya Book.
Married Woman
A married woman needs the protection of her husband by way of trust and respect in order to build a sound base for a good family. This is the principle of Tatwamasi, a Balinese Hindu philosophy that talks of equality of sexes and the belief in Karma.
The Nitisastra Book says that birds have value because of their song and woman a good reputation as a result of her love and loyalty to her husband.
(Read the Ramayana wherein Sita prefers to leave the Ayodhya along with her husband Ram to live in exile in the jungles in spite of the fact that she could have remained in the palace.)
Woman as Housewife
The duty of the woman is to manage family life through a harmonious process of understanding the many aspects of worldly knowledge as well as spiritual beliefs. This makes it extremely difficult for her as this also involves taking care of the children, cleaning the home, making offerings and taking part in obligatory social and religious activities.
The Manusmerti Book says that the woman should be strong enough to control her thoughts, words and deeds so as not to ruin the honor of her husband as these efforts will enable her to be with her husband in heaven. The woman is considered a Budhiman, a person of high intelligence and sacrifice.
As a housewife, a woman has to adjust to her parents-in-law, in laws in general and her husband.
The Arthwa Veda says:
May not happen peril from friend, no peril from unfamiliar people.
No danger from familiar one, no danger from unfamiliar one.
In night no peril, no peril for us even in day.
May it happen that people from all walks of life become our friends.
Woman Continues Family Tree
According to the Balinese, woman is the seed that grows into a tree that bears fruit (children). It the tree does not bear fruit, how does one release one’s ancestors from hell who are hanging from bamboo trees as only the birth of descendants can release them?
Woman as Guide
Philosophy/Tattwa, Ethical/Susila and Ritual/Upacara are the basic knowledge that a woman gives to her children and various stages in their lives.
The Nisastra Book says:
When children are 5 years old, the family should treat them like kings
When they are 7 years old, the family must train them to be followers
When they are 16 years old, they must be treated like friends
And when they become adults, they need only to be guided by signs
Balinese women play a pivotal role in all rituals. The Manawadharmasastra Book says:
Women have to be respected and shown affection by their fathers, brothers, in-laws and husband.
Where women have been respected, it makes the deities happy. And when the women are not respected, all rituals performed in the home will be of no value.
According to the Bhagavid Gita (1-40), “The woman is the barometer of civilization and therefore man has an obligation to show her tolerance, loyalty, love and respect. If man does not do this, the ancient laws are destroyed and the family yields to lawlessness.”
Bhagavid Gita (1-41), “And when lawlessness prevails, O Varsneya (Krsna), the women of the family become corrupted and women are corrupted, confusion of the social structure arises.”
Semoga damai di bumi, damai di hati, damai di langit.
Peace on Earth, peace in your heart, peace in the sky.
A Musical Legend in the Making
Not too long ago, while driving past Opera Warung in Ubud, I overhead music that was contagious and provoking. Hence, I dropped in, ordered a whisky sour and sat down to see and hear a truly gifted Balinese musician, I Wayan Balawan, in a melodic frenzy with fingers racing across the fret boards of two guitars.
“I compose and play music not for audiences but for my God,” Balawan said when he had finished playing.
Balawan is from Batuan village, about 10 kilometers south of Ubud. His brother owns the Opera Warung, where he performs weekly to an ever-growing number of expats, people from Jakarta and locals.
For the last 25 years, Balawan has been perfecting his art of playing two guitars (electric and keyboard) at the same time, backed by a drummer, bassist, rhythm guitarist and gamelan. He has been attempting to bridge the gap between Western music and the gamelan.
At age 11 he performed for the first time, in Denpasar, to an appreciative audience. A self-taught musician, he believes that the root of all music stems from religious encounters with the Almighty that sows the seeds of enlightenment for the artist through the music that is being played.
Musicians who have influenced Balawan’s style are John McLaughlin, Paco de Lucia and Charlie Parker. They infused in him a sense of being in touch with a spiritual force that magnified his perception of a bridge that exists in the music of Eastern and Western cultures. From there he began experimenting with his own compositions and came up with recordings - Balawan Globalism, Balawan Solo and the latest album, Balawan Magic Fingers.
He has toured cities in Australia, Germany, Holland, Norway, Belgium, Japan and Canada, playing his own compositions punctuated by the gamelan.
Balawan’s band, Batuan Ethnic Fusion, was formed in mid-1997 with the purpose of exploring existing elements in ethnic Balinese music by using a combination of Western and traditional instruments (gamelan) and to preserve for posterity traditional Balinese songs.
“Walking through the paddy field
While catching some fish
So you can eat it with rice
It’s a simple life for the Balinese” is a stanza from one of his compositions.
“I am a Balinese Hindu. Life is hard enough, so why will I leave my religion? It’s my life, my culture. If I wasn’t a Hindu, who will carry my body to the city?” said Balawan, adding, “I want to tell people not to sell their land and to keep the ricefields. For if the ricefields are sold off, Balinese culture and what it stands for will also slowly disappear. We have to be careful. The only way to preserve Bali is to educate the people. For without education there can be no enlightenment.”
Come to Ubud and listen to Balawan’s music, and when you do, you will believe what some have been saying – that Ubud is the cultural capital of Indonesia. (MU/BT)
“I compose and play music not for audiences but for my God,” Balawan said when he had finished playing.
Balawan is from Batuan village, about 10 kilometers south of Ubud. His brother owns the Opera Warung, where he performs weekly to an ever-growing number of expats, people from Jakarta and locals.
For the last 25 years, Balawan has been perfecting his art of playing two guitars (electric and keyboard) at the same time, backed by a drummer, bassist, rhythm guitarist and gamelan. He has been attempting to bridge the gap between Western music and the gamelan.
At age 11 he performed for the first time, in Denpasar, to an appreciative audience. A self-taught musician, he believes that the root of all music stems from religious encounters with the Almighty that sows the seeds of enlightenment for the artist through the music that is being played.
Musicians who have influenced Balawan’s style are John McLaughlin, Paco de Lucia and Charlie Parker. They infused in him a sense of being in touch with a spiritual force that magnified his perception of a bridge that exists in the music of Eastern and Western cultures. From there he began experimenting with his own compositions and came up with recordings - Balawan Globalism, Balawan Solo and the latest album, Balawan Magic Fingers.
He has toured cities in Australia, Germany, Holland, Norway, Belgium, Japan and Canada, playing his own compositions punctuated by the gamelan.
Balawan’s band, Batuan Ethnic Fusion, was formed in mid-1997 with the purpose of exploring existing elements in ethnic Balinese music by using a combination of Western and traditional instruments (gamelan) and to preserve for posterity traditional Balinese songs.
“Walking through the paddy field
While catching some fish
So you can eat it with rice
It’s a simple life for the Balinese” is a stanza from one of his compositions.
“I am a Balinese Hindu. Life is hard enough, so why will I leave my religion? It’s my life, my culture. If I wasn’t a Hindu, who will carry my body to the city?” said Balawan, adding, “I want to tell people not to sell their land and to keep the ricefields. For if the ricefields are sold off, Balinese culture and what it stands for will also slowly disappear. We have to be careful. The only way to preserve Bali is to educate the people. For without education there can be no enlightenment.”
Come to Ubud and listen to Balawan’s music, and when you do, you will believe what some have been saying – that Ubud is the cultural capital of Indonesia. (MU/BT)
Wayfarers
By Mark Ulyseas
For The Bali Times
This occurred in the first week of my arrival in Bali. Name and details have been changed to avoid hurting friends.
I arrived sheltering from the storm
Cloaked in loneliness
Carrying the pain and sorrow of a lifetime
Soulless, loveless and barren of thought
- Wayfarers, Mark Ulyseas
Talking to Jane, a charming woman of 40-something, over dinner the other night, I couldn’t help wondering why she had ended up as a hairstylist in Bali. Her face is creased. But her warm, moist eyes and sudden gentleness of speech is comforting to me as earlier in the day I had spent time interviewing a local in sign language and pidgin English, resulting in frayed nerves and a short attention span.
“So what’s the story?” I ask her.
She stretches her long legs, leans back and to my astonishment rests them on our dinner table. I look at her disapprovingly.
“Oh, no one cares a fish here; the restaurant needs the business and I need a break,” she drawls. “I came here with my French boyfriend, who on arrival took to the streets photographing everything, including the aftermath of the first bomb blast at the Sari Club. He made a killing. Sold them pics to a television station for 10 grand, US not rupiah. After the money ran out, he lost interest in me. He fancied the younger girls. You know, what’s it with these guys? All the men I have met here come for the girls. Some marry and settle down while others keep changing their girlfriends like they change their clothes. Us (Western) women rarely get lucky with these guys. Probably we are too ‘old’ for them. They need that little young woman to reassure them of their manhood and to make them feel superior,” she says.
I look embarrassed. What could I say? She appeared to be a cultured woman but was it worth asking her out again? Words sometimes are incongruous.
“Look at you - what the hell are you doing here?” she waves to me, and quickly apologizes for her abruptness.
“Oh,” I reply, “just recovering from a 20-year marriage. I came here from London after working as a ghost writer and graphic designer for two years. What I am doing here is writing for two Indian magazines. Maybe I’ll travel across the island and meet some of the expats who have become more Balinese than the Balinese themselves.”
“Don’t tell me you are going to meet them? All I know is that they are a lotta hot air. Yap, yap, yap - that’s all they do; people who are losers in their countries land up here,” she says angrily.
The waitress, in a sarong, comes to the table and points at the half-eaten food on my plate.
“You like, yes?” she asks. If she had come any closer she would have knocked me off my chair.
“Yes, I like,” I say. Looking down at the chicken satay, I remember what Jane told me earlier in the evening. She said that imported dogs, particularly retrievers, are kidnapped and if a ransom is not paid, the dog ends up as satay. Very often the kidnappers don’t wait for the ransom. They just sell the dog to people who make satay.
Jane punches me playfully on the arm and points to my laptop.
“Show me what you’re up to,” she says, and then starts picking her teeth with a satay stick. Reluctantly I remove the laptop from its case, place it on the table and put it on. Suddenly, a few of the waitresses rush to our table to look see what’s being shown. One giggles and asks, “Shahrukh Khan?”
Dreadful, I think to myself, one can’t get away from those awful Bollywood movies!
Glancing through the pictures in Photoshop, Jane remarks, “You did all this?” She seems a bit incredulous. I keep quiet. I am too tired and desperately need another whisky on the rocks to wash down any glimmer of the loneliness of the past years that may suddenly arise and make me sick again.
“I come from a very rich family,” she says. “Dad is uncouth and has a very sharp tongue. I think he loves me, but he never seems to show it. He does construction, you know.”
“Will you ever go back home to Kangaroo Land?” I ask her, taking a sip of my whisky and reaching for a cigar.
“Naa, don’t think so, just want to save money and go to India to buy some jewelry to sell here. Will you help me with your contacts?” she says looking hesitantly at me.
“Yes, of course,” I reply, and launch into the whole drama that is India, the depths of despair in doing business in a country I had left years ago. She looks at me and strokes my long white hair.
“Poor chap,” she says tenderly, as if speaking to herself, “when was your last date?”
Taken aback, I don’t answer. What could I say? The truth? That it was a few years back?
“I want to have two boyfriends,” she says, gazing into my eyes intently. “Will you like to be the other one?”
I nod my head. She laughs.
“What’s it with you Indians? You always shake your head in such a manner that no one knows whether you are saying yes or no.”
“You know, my friends in London used to call me Noddy because I would nod my head when talking to them. I suppose in Bali you can call me Noddy in Neverland,” I say as we burst out laughing.
Jane tells me about her yellow scrambler bike and how she rides around doing the society ladies’ hair: cutting, curling, blow drying, coloring and sometimes shaving. She likes her job. Her flat with two air-conditioned bedrooms is a luxury. She likes her little world. Everything is neat and tidy. But she is getting old and her trembling voice betrays false bravado. I think the rumbling engine beneath her is warm and reassuring, and where she is always in control; it’s her comfort zone. The place she feels at peace is on her bike riding round the city.
The bill arrives. I pay it and walk out with her.
She jumps into the cab I am sitting in and kisses me with her warm, wet, open mouth, mumbling goodnight. She saunters to her yellow scrambler, puts on her yellow helmet and roars off into the night.
The cabbie asks me, “Where you go? You follow her?”
“No!” I reply, “We go Oberoi.”
“Seminyak?” asks the driver.
“Yes!” I say and mutter under my breath, “We are on an island; how many Oberois could there be?”
The evening ends with a displaced Indian and an Aussie, both marooned eight degrees south of the equator on an island called Bali, both waiting for the future to happen. Waiting.
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om
For The Bali Times
This occurred in the first week of my arrival in Bali. Name and details have been changed to avoid hurting friends.
I arrived sheltering from the storm
Cloaked in loneliness
Carrying the pain and sorrow of a lifetime
Soulless, loveless and barren of thought
- Wayfarers, Mark Ulyseas
Talking to Jane, a charming woman of 40-something, over dinner the other night, I couldn’t help wondering why she had ended up as a hairstylist in Bali. Her face is creased. But her warm, moist eyes and sudden gentleness of speech is comforting to me as earlier in the day I had spent time interviewing a local in sign language and pidgin English, resulting in frayed nerves and a short attention span.
“So what’s the story?” I ask her.
She stretches her long legs, leans back and to my astonishment rests them on our dinner table. I look at her disapprovingly.
“Oh, no one cares a fish here; the restaurant needs the business and I need a break,” she drawls. “I came here with my French boyfriend, who on arrival took to the streets photographing everything, including the aftermath of the first bomb blast at the Sari Club. He made a killing. Sold them pics to a television station for 10 grand, US not rupiah. After the money ran out, he lost interest in me. He fancied the younger girls. You know, what’s it with these guys? All the men I have met here come for the girls. Some marry and settle down while others keep changing their girlfriends like they change their clothes. Us (Western) women rarely get lucky with these guys. Probably we are too ‘old’ for them. They need that little young woman to reassure them of their manhood and to make them feel superior,” she says.
I look embarrassed. What could I say? She appeared to be a cultured woman but was it worth asking her out again? Words sometimes are incongruous.
“Look at you - what the hell are you doing here?” she waves to me, and quickly apologizes for her abruptness.
“Oh,” I reply, “just recovering from a 20-year marriage. I came here from London after working as a ghost writer and graphic designer for two years. What I am doing here is writing for two Indian magazines. Maybe I’ll travel across the island and meet some of the expats who have become more Balinese than the Balinese themselves.”
“Don’t tell me you are going to meet them? All I know is that they are a lotta hot air. Yap, yap, yap - that’s all they do; people who are losers in their countries land up here,” she says angrily.
The waitress, in a sarong, comes to the table and points at the half-eaten food on my plate.
“You like, yes?” she asks. If she had come any closer she would have knocked me off my chair.
“Yes, I like,” I say. Looking down at the chicken satay, I remember what Jane told me earlier in the evening. She said that imported dogs, particularly retrievers, are kidnapped and if a ransom is not paid, the dog ends up as satay. Very often the kidnappers don’t wait for the ransom. They just sell the dog to people who make satay.
Jane punches me playfully on the arm and points to my laptop.
“Show me what you’re up to,” she says, and then starts picking her teeth with a satay stick. Reluctantly I remove the laptop from its case, place it on the table and put it on. Suddenly, a few of the waitresses rush to our table to look see what’s being shown. One giggles and asks, “Shahrukh Khan?”
Dreadful, I think to myself, one can’t get away from those awful Bollywood movies!
Glancing through the pictures in Photoshop, Jane remarks, “You did all this?” She seems a bit incredulous. I keep quiet. I am too tired and desperately need another whisky on the rocks to wash down any glimmer of the loneliness of the past years that may suddenly arise and make me sick again.
“I come from a very rich family,” she says. “Dad is uncouth and has a very sharp tongue. I think he loves me, but he never seems to show it. He does construction, you know.”
“Will you ever go back home to Kangaroo Land?” I ask her, taking a sip of my whisky and reaching for a cigar.
“Naa, don’t think so, just want to save money and go to India to buy some jewelry to sell here. Will you help me with your contacts?” she says looking hesitantly at me.
“Yes, of course,” I reply, and launch into the whole drama that is India, the depths of despair in doing business in a country I had left years ago. She looks at me and strokes my long white hair.
“Poor chap,” she says tenderly, as if speaking to herself, “when was your last date?”
Taken aback, I don’t answer. What could I say? The truth? That it was a few years back?
“I want to have two boyfriends,” she says, gazing into my eyes intently. “Will you like to be the other one?”
I nod my head. She laughs.
“What’s it with you Indians? You always shake your head in such a manner that no one knows whether you are saying yes or no.”
“You know, my friends in London used to call me Noddy because I would nod my head when talking to them. I suppose in Bali you can call me Noddy in Neverland,” I say as we burst out laughing.
Jane tells me about her yellow scrambler bike and how she rides around doing the society ladies’ hair: cutting, curling, blow drying, coloring and sometimes shaving. She likes her job. Her flat with two air-conditioned bedrooms is a luxury. She likes her little world. Everything is neat and tidy. But she is getting old and her trembling voice betrays false bravado. I think the rumbling engine beneath her is warm and reassuring, and where she is always in control; it’s her comfort zone. The place she feels at peace is on her bike riding round the city.
The bill arrives. I pay it and walk out with her.
She jumps into the cab I am sitting in and kisses me with her warm, wet, open mouth, mumbling goodnight. She saunters to her yellow scrambler, puts on her yellow helmet and roars off into the night.
The cabbie asks me, “Where you go? You follow her?”
“No!” I reply, “We go Oberoi.”
“Seminyak?” asks the driver.
“Yes!” I say and mutter under my breath, “We are on an island; how many Oberois could there be?”
The evening ends with a displaced Indian and an Aussie, both marooned eight degrees south of the equator on an island called Bali, both waiting for the future to happen. Waiting.
Om Shanti Shanti Shanti Om
Sample Hell
By Amy Chavez
For The Bali Times
If you’ve ever looked at something in the shop window in Bali and thought to yourself, “I could sell that in my country,” then welcome to Exporting 101!
When I first came to Bali, in 2000, I met a couple guys from Germany who exported furniture from here, an American girl who exported sandals and dozens of people who exported jewelry all around the globe. It seemed that everyone was exporting something and while they were not making big bucks at it, it gave them a good lifestyle, spending part of the year in Bali. I decided myself to give textiles a try.
But of course, none of these people told me about Sample Hell.
Sample Hell is the time it takes to relate your idea of a product to a supplier who is from an entirely different background and culture, and have him make up a sample for you while: 1. transposing the numbers in your measurements; 2. choosing opposite colors to what you requested; and 3. habitually burping while attempting to sew a straight line too fast on a sewing machine.
Add to that your supplier’s own preconceptions about your needs, and you’ve pretty much got Sample Hell in a handbasket. Sample Hell can take one week to several years, and only ends when you get the product to the point where you feel it’s good enough to manufacture and sell. Then Sample Hell starts all over with your next new product.
If you’re selling something like leather sandals that the locals know so well they can make them in their sleep (and they do), you’ll have fewer adjustments to your samples than if you’re trying to make something like winter bedding, like I did, which the locals have only heard about. Or not.
Here are some tips for getting through Sample Hell for those of you considering a lifestyle in exporting.
1. Consider your product
The Balinese are great artisans and craftsman, and they excel at cottage industries such as handmade clothing, jewelry, sandals or anything that can be made from raw materials. Although things are slowly changing, it’s still the domain of the big cities such as Jakarta and Surabaya to make factory-made mass produced goods such as plastics or anything made from synthetic materials.
2. Always have a sample of a sample
The Balinese are great at copying things, not designing things, which means you must have a sample to give them something to copy to make you a sample.
But even this is not foolproof. When I took a duvet to a manufacturer and told her I wanted the exact same duvet made, she assured me she could do it. When I got the sample back, she said, “We tried to stitch it across the middle so the filling wouldn’t shift around inside, but it was too thick for the sewing machine.”
Too thick, indeed - the sample duvet was 12 inches thick. Every time I moved the duvet, it morphed into a different shape. Right now, with most the “kapok” gathered in the middle, it was looking very much like a turtle. Maybe I could sell turtle duvets if I included some aquarium accessories.
3. Always have a sample color
Next, I decided to export something easier: sandals. I chose a design straight off the shelf and ordered 200 with turquoise beads and 200 with pink. When I went to pick up the order, however, half the order was in pink beads, the other in, um, blue.
“I thought I ordered turquoise,” I said.
“Yes,” said the man. “This is turquoise.”
Taking a sample color with you will help. But even this is not foolproof. When it came to ordering handbags, I decided to play it safe and order colors off the shelf. I chose a handbag in a store, got the “business price” and ordered maroon ones and brown ones, both of which were on display in the store. What could be easier?
But when the bags came back, they were maroon and, um, lime green.
“I thought I ordered brown,” I said.
“Oh, sorry, no have brown,” said the woman, smiling.
I paid the bill and wondered what was the cheapest way to send bags and sandals to needy people in Bangladesh.
4. Never tell your true departure date
Always give a date a week earlier than your departure date because samples (and orders) are never finished on time, usually because of the numerous holidays and religious ceremonies in Bali. With a week’s leeway, you’ll have more of a chance of your samples being finished before you are.
Furthermore, if you know the national holidays that are marked red on the calendar, this will help you help them plan.
But even this is not foolproof.
“I’m sorry, but your samples will not be finished until Friday,” the woman said.
But my plane leaves on Thursday,” I said.
“I have ceremony this week — my little boy will be circumcised.”
I changed my flight and departure date and in the end, I did get my samples on Friday. The duvet, however, eight years later, is still in Sample Hell.
For The Bali Times
If you’ve ever looked at something in the shop window in Bali and thought to yourself, “I could sell that in my country,” then welcome to Exporting 101!
When I first came to Bali, in 2000, I met a couple guys from Germany who exported furniture from here, an American girl who exported sandals and dozens of people who exported jewelry all around the globe. It seemed that everyone was exporting something and while they were not making big bucks at it, it gave them a good lifestyle, spending part of the year in Bali. I decided myself to give textiles a try.
But of course, none of these people told me about Sample Hell.
Sample Hell is the time it takes to relate your idea of a product to a supplier who is from an entirely different background and culture, and have him make up a sample for you while: 1. transposing the numbers in your measurements; 2. choosing opposite colors to what you requested; and 3. habitually burping while attempting to sew a straight line too fast on a sewing machine.
Add to that your supplier’s own preconceptions about your needs, and you’ve pretty much got Sample Hell in a handbasket. Sample Hell can take one week to several years, and only ends when you get the product to the point where you feel it’s good enough to manufacture and sell. Then Sample Hell starts all over with your next new product.
If you’re selling something like leather sandals that the locals know so well they can make them in their sleep (and they do), you’ll have fewer adjustments to your samples than if you’re trying to make something like winter bedding, like I did, which the locals have only heard about. Or not.
Here are some tips for getting through Sample Hell for those of you considering a lifestyle in exporting.
1. Consider your product
The Balinese are great artisans and craftsman, and they excel at cottage industries such as handmade clothing, jewelry, sandals or anything that can be made from raw materials. Although things are slowly changing, it’s still the domain of the big cities such as Jakarta and Surabaya to make factory-made mass produced goods such as plastics or anything made from synthetic materials.
2. Always have a sample of a sample
The Balinese are great at copying things, not designing things, which means you must have a sample to give them something to copy to make you a sample.
But even this is not foolproof. When I took a duvet to a manufacturer and told her I wanted the exact same duvet made, she assured me she could do it. When I got the sample back, she said, “We tried to stitch it across the middle so the filling wouldn’t shift around inside, but it was too thick for the sewing machine.”
Too thick, indeed - the sample duvet was 12 inches thick. Every time I moved the duvet, it morphed into a different shape. Right now, with most the “kapok” gathered in the middle, it was looking very much like a turtle. Maybe I could sell turtle duvets if I included some aquarium accessories.
3. Always have a sample color
Next, I decided to export something easier: sandals. I chose a design straight off the shelf and ordered 200 with turquoise beads and 200 with pink. When I went to pick up the order, however, half the order was in pink beads, the other in, um, blue.
“I thought I ordered turquoise,” I said.
“Yes,” said the man. “This is turquoise.”
Taking a sample color with you will help. But even this is not foolproof. When it came to ordering handbags, I decided to play it safe and order colors off the shelf. I chose a handbag in a store, got the “business price” and ordered maroon ones and brown ones, both of which were on display in the store. What could be easier?
But when the bags came back, they were maroon and, um, lime green.
“I thought I ordered brown,” I said.
“Oh, sorry, no have brown,” said the woman, smiling.
I paid the bill and wondered what was the cheapest way to send bags and sandals to needy people in Bangladesh.
4. Never tell your true departure date
Always give a date a week earlier than your departure date because samples (and orders) are never finished on time, usually because of the numerous holidays and religious ceremonies in Bali. With a week’s leeway, you’ll have more of a chance of your samples being finished before you are.
Furthermore, if you know the national holidays that are marked red on the calendar, this will help you help them plan.
But even this is not foolproof.
“I’m sorry, but your samples will not be finished until Friday,” the woman said.
But my plane leaves on Thursday,” I said.
“I have ceremony this week — my little boy will be circumcised.”
I changed my flight and departure date and in the end, I did get my samples on Friday. The duvet, however, eight years later, is still in Sample Hell.
Found: The Perfect Nasi Campur
By Janet De Neefe
For The Bali Times
UBUD ~ I decided it’s time to find the most delicious nasi campur on the island and any review of Bali’s beloved national dish should really begin at Kedewatan, the home of two famous warungs or roadside eating houses, that have been serving nasi campur to dedicated locals for years. Both are located near each other, on that charming village street, just before the Kupu-Kupu Barong Hotel, on the opposite side of the road.
Every now and then, Ketut, my husband, fills the car with mates and children on a gastronomic pilgrimage to this neighboring town to eat a breakfast of home-cooked chicken, coconut vegetables, salted egg and sambal. He eats at either warung but the second one is generally the preferred venue.
At this quaint little eatery, the lineup of vehicles is as probably as exciting as the food offered. BMWs, Harley Davidsons, polished Vespas and Cherokee Jeeps are amongst the Holy Chariots parked outside this famous restaurant. And while eating with his mates, Ketut loves to eavesdrop conversations about ricefields sold, hotels built and sour business deals by the owners all of these glistening mobils. It all adds up to an authentic village experience. What more could you want!
But what is it that makes the Kedewatan nasi campur so delicious? (My son would live on it if he could.) As you probably know, nasi campur consists of a serving of steamed rice topped with a seasonal mix of greens, meats and a slap of sambal. At Kedewatan, the nasi campur includes betutu ayam, a kind of stewed chicken served with urab or greens with roasted coconut, egg and sambal. But it’s the chicken that everyone loves, in a land of passionate poultry eaters. Soft and tender, it is simmered in a ton of ground spices and aromatic leaves until the meat falls off the bone. It’s tender and luscious, with a sultry touch of chilli, not too much.
Increased trade at Kedewatan has led to an expansion of sorts, with tables and chairs now spilling into the family compound. So for those who want a quiet, inner-courtyard dining experience, this is the place for you. A full nasi campur will cost around Rp12,000 (US$1.28) and you can select a drink from the zillions of bottles perched on the happy red-and-white plastic-covered benches. Krupuk or crackers and other assorted fare can be bought to munch on while waiting for the tasty meal. Service is meek, mild and typically Balinese. When I went recently, I chose to sit near the open doorway on a bright red plastic stool and relished in the village life sauntering past: grandmas carrying offerings, grandpas on bicycles, school children and assorted local wildlife. What a lovely way to start the day.
Here is the recipe:
AYAM BETUTU
ROAST CHICKEN/actually boiled
This is a favorite on warung menus and is served with the famous Kedewatan nasi campur. The chicken is simmered with a pile of fresh spices in a large saucepan for at least an hour. The result is a tender, tasty chicken bathed in a fragrant chicken stock. The spices also preserve the meat, meaning it can tolerate a couple of hours’ sitting happily in a huge pot in a busy warung without spoiling.
Serves 6-8
1 large chicken (1½ kg)
3 tablespoons oil for frying
4 lime leaves
3 salam leaves
2 knots of lemongrass
3-4 cups water
Spice paste:
4 red shallots
7 cloves of garlic, finely sliced
5 large red chilli, seeds removed
5 small chillies
5 candlenut
2 teaspoon shrimp paste
2 teaspoon coriander seeds
2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
¼ teaspoon sesame seeds
2 stalks of lemongrass
3 tablespoons galangal
1 tablespoon turmeric
3 teaspoons ginger
2 teaspoons kencur
1 teaspoon sea salt
3 teaspoons tamarind, seeds removed
I tablespoon palm sugar
Rinse the chicken with cold water and pat dry with paper towels.
Place the spices in the container of an electric food processor and blend to a smooth paste, adding a little water if necessary. You can use a coffee grinder to grind the seeds and nuts.
Alternatively, chop the spices with a cleaver.
Heat the oil in a wok over a medium flame and sauté the spices until fragrant and glossy or for about a minute, pushing the spices back and forth in the wok. Add the aromatic leaves and toss around together for half a minute.
Add the water and the whole chicken.
Simmer for an hour or until cooked. Check seasonings.
Serve with steamed rice and topped with fried onion.
Matur Suksme
Janet DeNeefe is the owner of Casa Luna and Indus Restaurants, author of Fragrant Rice, and founder and director of the Ubud Writers & Readers Festival. She also runs the Casa Luna Cooking School.
For The Bali Times
UBUD ~ I decided it’s time to find the most delicious nasi campur on the island and any review of Bali’s beloved national dish should really begin at Kedewatan, the home of two famous warungs or roadside eating houses, that have been serving nasi campur to dedicated locals for years. Both are located near each other, on that charming village street, just before the Kupu-Kupu Barong Hotel, on the opposite side of the road.
Every now and then, Ketut, my husband, fills the car with mates and children on a gastronomic pilgrimage to this neighboring town to eat a breakfast of home-cooked chicken, coconut vegetables, salted egg and sambal. He eats at either warung but the second one is generally the preferred venue.
At this quaint little eatery, the lineup of vehicles is as probably as exciting as the food offered. BMWs, Harley Davidsons, polished Vespas and Cherokee Jeeps are amongst the Holy Chariots parked outside this famous restaurant. And while eating with his mates, Ketut loves to eavesdrop conversations about ricefields sold, hotels built and sour business deals by the owners all of these glistening mobils. It all adds up to an authentic village experience. What more could you want!
But what is it that makes the Kedewatan nasi campur so delicious? (My son would live on it if he could.) As you probably know, nasi campur consists of a serving of steamed rice topped with a seasonal mix of greens, meats and a slap of sambal. At Kedewatan, the nasi campur includes betutu ayam, a kind of stewed chicken served with urab or greens with roasted coconut, egg and sambal. But it’s the chicken that everyone loves, in a land of passionate poultry eaters. Soft and tender, it is simmered in a ton of ground spices and aromatic leaves until the meat falls off the bone. It’s tender and luscious, with a sultry touch of chilli, not too much.
Increased trade at Kedewatan has led to an expansion of sorts, with tables and chairs now spilling into the family compound. So for those who want a quiet, inner-courtyard dining experience, this is the place for you. A full nasi campur will cost around Rp12,000 (US$1.28) and you can select a drink from the zillions of bottles perched on the happy red-and-white plastic-covered benches. Krupuk or crackers and other assorted fare can be bought to munch on while waiting for the tasty meal. Service is meek, mild and typically Balinese. When I went recently, I chose to sit near the open doorway on a bright red plastic stool and relished in the village life sauntering past: grandmas carrying offerings, grandpas on bicycles, school children and assorted local wildlife. What a lovely way to start the day.
Here is the recipe:
AYAM BETUTU
ROAST CHICKEN/actually boiled
This is a favorite on warung menus and is served with the famous Kedewatan nasi campur. The chicken is simmered with a pile of fresh spices in a large saucepan for at least an hour. The result is a tender, tasty chicken bathed in a fragrant chicken stock. The spices also preserve the meat, meaning it can tolerate a couple of hours’ sitting happily in a huge pot in a busy warung without spoiling.
Serves 6-8
1 large chicken (1½ kg)
3 tablespoons oil for frying
4 lime leaves
3 salam leaves
2 knots of lemongrass
3-4 cups water
Spice paste:
4 red shallots
7 cloves of garlic, finely sliced
5 large red chilli, seeds removed
5 small chillies
5 candlenut
2 teaspoon shrimp paste
2 teaspoon coriander seeds
2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
¼ teaspoon sesame seeds
2 stalks of lemongrass
3 tablespoons galangal
1 tablespoon turmeric
3 teaspoons ginger
2 teaspoons kencur
1 teaspoon sea salt
3 teaspoons tamarind, seeds removed
I tablespoon palm sugar
Rinse the chicken with cold water and pat dry with paper towels.
Place the spices in the container of an electric food processor and blend to a smooth paste, adding a little water if necessary. You can use a coffee grinder to grind the seeds and nuts.
Alternatively, chop the spices with a cleaver.
Heat the oil in a wok over a medium flame and sauté the spices until fragrant and glossy or for about a minute, pushing the spices back and forth in the wok. Add the aromatic leaves and toss around together for half a minute.
Add the water and the whole chicken.
Simmer for an hour or until cooked. Check seasonings.
Serve with steamed rice and topped with fried onion.
Matur Suksme
Janet DeNeefe is the owner of Casa Luna and Indus Restaurants, author of Fragrant Rice, and founder and director of the Ubud Writers & Readers Festival. She also runs the Casa Luna Cooking School.
23.1.08
Tips for Buying a Property in Bali
http://balitopproperty.com/html/news/latest/tips-for-buying-a-property-in-bali.html
Bali Top Property will gladly assist your A – Z steps and assure you in getting your right property investment.
1. Decide what you want
a. For your own use.
b. Purely for property investment.
2. Give sufficient information to your Property Advisor if you would like the property for your own use
a. Preferred area.
b. How much you would like to pay (budget range).
c. When you will need the property.
d. The details of the property, such as but not limited to:
- Land approx. area
- Built approx. area
- Certain rooms you would require
If you decide that this is purely for your investment, ask your Property Advisor what they have to offer.
a. Land
- The access road must be clear, if it is on the main road, no questions; if it is a shared road then there should be legal documents supporting that
- The track record of the capital appreciation within the area
- Land zoning must be clear (this is stated on the certificate)
b. Building
- Property management must be there
- If the offer comes with guaranteed Return On Investment, make sure it is part of the agreement and legalized by the public notary
3. Visit and inspect the properties that suit your requirements.
4. Decide which one you will buy.
5. Place your booking fee to secure that selected property and ask for the copies of the applicable supporting legal documents:
a. Certificate / Land Title (freehold)
b. Road statement, when the road is to be shared with other adjoining properties
c. IMB / Building Permit, if it is a building
6. Choose your public notary and set a date when you would like to sign the Deed of Sales / lease agreement. Before the signing agreement take place, we will provide you the draft Deed of Sales (freehold) or Lease agreement (leasehold).
7. The deed signing at the notary, during then all original documents must be presented.
a. Certificate
The notary will check the originality of the certificate before the signing takes place.
b. Road Statement
This document will be attached to the Deed of Sales or The Lease Agreement.
c. Receipt of PBB (land and building tax)
d. The owner or lessor shall pay for all tax before it is transfer to you
e. IMB (Building Permit)
It must be available when you are buying a property other than land
f. Receipt of all other bills (electricity, water and phone)
g. Payment Receipts
Your Property Advisor will also be present to assist you and making sure all required documents are available.
8. Property Handover
Your Property Advisor will assist you in doing proper property handover between the previous owner or lesser to you. This is applied to all property other than land.
Bali Top Property will gladly assist your A – Z steps and assure you in getting your right property investment.
1. Decide what you want
a. For your own use.
b. Purely for property investment.
2. Give sufficient information to your Property Advisor if you would like the property for your own use
a. Preferred area.
b. How much you would like to pay (budget range).
c. When you will need the property.
d. The details of the property, such as but not limited to:
- Land approx. area
- Built approx. area
- Certain rooms you would require
If you decide that this is purely for your investment, ask your Property Advisor what they have to offer.
a. Land
- The access road must be clear, if it is on the main road, no questions; if it is a shared road then there should be legal documents supporting that
- The track record of the capital appreciation within the area
- Land zoning must be clear (this is stated on the certificate)
b. Building
- Property management must be there
- If the offer comes with guaranteed Return On Investment, make sure it is part of the agreement and legalized by the public notary
3. Visit and inspect the properties that suit your requirements.
4. Decide which one you will buy.
5. Place your booking fee to secure that selected property and ask for the copies of the applicable supporting legal documents:
a. Certificate / Land Title (freehold)
b. Road statement, when the road is to be shared with other adjoining properties
c. IMB / Building Permit, if it is a building
6. Choose your public notary and set a date when you would like to sign the Deed of Sales / lease agreement. Before the signing agreement take place, we will provide you the draft Deed of Sales (freehold) or Lease agreement (leasehold).
7. The deed signing at the notary, during then all original documents must be presented.
a. Certificate
The notary will check the originality of the certificate before the signing takes place.
b. Road Statement
This document will be attached to the Deed of Sales or The Lease Agreement.
c. Receipt of PBB (land and building tax)
d. The owner or lessor shall pay for all tax before it is transfer to you
e. IMB (Building Permit)
It must be available when you are buying a property other than land
f. Receipt of all other bills (electricity, water and phone)
g. Payment Receipts
Your Property Advisor will also be present to assist you and making sure all required documents are available.
8. Property Handover
Your Property Advisor will assist you in doing proper property handover between the previous owner or lesser to you. This is applied to all property other than land.
Ownership Regulations
http://balitopproperty.com/html/legal-aspects/regulation/ownership-regulations.html
About The Property Laws in The Republic of Indonesia
All property matters, except for those pertaining to the mining and forestry sectors fall under the jurisdiction of the national land agency (Badan Pertanahan Nasional, or BPN for short), which was formed to administer all matters relating to the basic "Agrarian Law of 1960", such as the registration of the use of land. The Indonesian land legislation is based on the basic Agrarian law number 5 of 1960.
The Basic Agrarian Law recognizes several types of rights over Real Estate, all of which are outlined below. However, to the foreign investor, the following three main rights are relevant:
1. Right of exploitation ( Hak Guna Usaha HGU)
2. Right of building (Hak Guna Bangunan HGB)
3. Right of use (Hak pakai)
These rights all authorize the use of land. The differences lie in the duration of validity and nature of utilization and the opportunities for obtaining a mortgage. The right of ownership is an inheritable right that can be held only by Indonesian citizens.
Right of Ownership (Hak Milik)
This refers to absolute ownership of land and corresponds to freehold title in common law terms. This right can only be held by an Indonesian citizen, not a corporate entity whether local or foreign. Certain legal entities designated by the government, such as a state bank, agricultural cooperatives, religious bodies, and social right of ownership is held in perpetuity. It can be sold, transferred, bequeathed, and mortgaged.
Right to Rent (Hak Sewa)
This is the right to use, leasing land owned by another private party for building purposes. The right cannot be registered at the land office and therefore does not exist in certificate form. Land leases are not public documents.
The law does not stipulate a period for such lease agreements and whether this can be transferred or not depends on the original agreement between the parties (lessor & lessee). This right may be held by a foreigner permanently domiciled in Indonesian or a foreign legal entity having a representative office in Indonesia, and may not be mortgaged.
Right to Build (Hak Guna Bangunan)
Better known by its abbreviation, "H.G.B.", this is the right to construct a building/s on a plot of land for a period of 20 or 30 years, and which can be renewed on consideration of policy of the regional government. This right can be sold, exchanged, transferred, and mortgaged, and can be held directly by any corporate entity whether it is a local company or a government approved PMA (joint venture) company.
If a joint venture company needs a land for a factory, storage, employee housing or whatever, the company can be granted the right of building (HGB) in accordance with existing regulations.
Right of Use (Hak Pakai)
This is the right of use over state-owned (crown land) or property owned by public or private persons/entities for a specific purpose for (generally) a finite period and occasionally for an indefinite period. This land right may not be sold, exchanged or transferred unless explicitly stated in an agreement. Hak Pakai may be held by an Indonesian individual or entity. or foreigner permanently domiciled in Indonesia, or a foreign legal entity with a representative office in Indonesia such as foreign Banks, embassies, etc.
Right of Exploitation (Hak Guna Usaha)
This is the right to exploit state-owned land for agricultural, fishery or animal husbandry purposes. Title is normally granted for a period of 35 years, which may be exended for a maximum of 25 more years, conditional that the company is still operational and sound. This right can be held by Indonesian individuals/entities as well as government approved PMA (foreign joint venture) companies, and may be mortgaged.
Foreign investors who have obtained mining rights from the Minister of Mines and Energy or exploitation rights from the Minister of Agriculture or the Minister of Forestry have automatically obtained the right to use the land within their concession boundaries for purposes directly connected with the operations of the enterprise.
Based on Presidential decree number 34 of 1992 concerning the use full of right of exploitation (HGU) and the right of building (HGB) for the joint venture company, stated that in the joint venture company that established on Indonesian Law and domiciled in Indonesia. Those HGU that kept by the joint venture company can be used as collateral and can be transferred after having permission by the Chairman of BPN.
About The Property Laws in The Republic of Indonesia
All property matters, except for those pertaining to the mining and forestry sectors fall under the jurisdiction of the national land agency (Badan Pertanahan Nasional, or BPN for short), which was formed to administer all matters relating to the basic "Agrarian Law of 1960", such as the registration of the use of land. The Indonesian land legislation is based on the basic Agrarian law number 5 of 1960.
The Basic Agrarian Law recognizes several types of rights over Real Estate, all of which are outlined below. However, to the foreign investor, the following three main rights are relevant:
1. Right of exploitation ( Hak Guna Usaha HGU)
2. Right of building (Hak Guna Bangunan HGB)
3. Right of use (Hak pakai)
These rights all authorize the use of land. The differences lie in the duration of validity and nature of utilization and the opportunities for obtaining a mortgage. The right of ownership is an inheritable right that can be held only by Indonesian citizens.
Right of Ownership (Hak Milik)
This refers to absolute ownership of land and corresponds to freehold title in common law terms. This right can only be held by an Indonesian citizen, not a corporate entity whether local or foreign. Certain legal entities designated by the government, such as a state bank, agricultural cooperatives, religious bodies, and social right of ownership is held in perpetuity. It can be sold, transferred, bequeathed, and mortgaged.
Right to Rent (Hak Sewa)
This is the right to use, leasing land owned by another private party for building purposes. The right cannot be registered at the land office and therefore does not exist in certificate form. Land leases are not public documents.
The law does not stipulate a period for such lease agreements and whether this can be transferred or not depends on the original agreement between the parties (lessor & lessee). This right may be held by a foreigner permanently domiciled in Indonesian or a foreign legal entity having a representative office in Indonesia, and may not be mortgaged.
Right to Build (Hak Guna Bangunan)
Better known by its abbreviation, "H.G.B.", this is the right to construct a building/s on a plot of land for a period of 20 or 30 years, and which can be renewed on consideration of policy of the regional government. This right can be sold, exchanged, transferred, and mortgaged, and can be held directly by any corporate entity whether it is a local company or a government approved PMA (joint venture) company.
If a joint venture company needs a land for a factory, storage, employee housing or whatever, the company can be granted the right of building (HGB) in accordance with existing regulations.
Right of Use (Hak Pakai)
This is the right of use over state-owned (crown land) or property owned by public or private persons/entities for a specific purpose for (generally) a finite period and occasionally for an indefinite period. This land right may not be sold, exchanged or transferred unless explicitly stated in an agreement. Hak Pakai may be held by an Indonesian individual or entity. or foreigner permanently domiciled in Indonesia, or a foreign legal entity with a representative office in Indonesia such as foreign Banks, embassies, etc.
Right of Exploitation (Hak Guna Usaha)
This is the right to exploit state-owned land for agricultural, fishery or animal husbandry purposes. Title is normally granted for a period of 35 years, which may be exended for a maximum of 25 more years, conditional that the company is still operational and sound. This right can be held by Indonesian individuals/entities as well as government approved PMA (foreign joint venture) companies, and may be mortgaged.
Foreign investors who have obtained mining rights from the Minister of Mines and Energy or exploitation rights from the Minister of Agriculture or the Minister of Forestry have automatically obtained the right to use the land within their concession boundaries for purposes directly connected with the operations of the enterprise.
Based on Presidential decree number 34 of 1992 concerning the use full of right of exploitation (HGU) and the right of building (HGB) for the joint venture company, stated that in the joint venture company that established on Indonesian Law and domiciled in Indonesia. Those HGU that kept by the joint venture company can be used as collateral and can be transferred after having permission by the Chairman of BPN.
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