Posts
The move from the hussle and the bussle of the city, to mystical Bali was an impressive change to me. Looking back, a good 11 years later and in a completely different geography now, I must say, I have a certain regrets and of course if I knew then what I know now, my stay there would've been extremely enjoyable. Those days, I was torn between annoyance and awe for the island. Back then, as I left everything behind, my job, my country, my life, I discovered I had absolutely all the time in the world to do anything and everything that I wanted. And that was all that I had in abundance... time. And of course, as some corny line goes, you don't appreciate what you have in your hands until it's gone...I think somebody wrote a song about it or something along those lines.
I didn't really have the patience or understanding on cultural differences, and being in Bali, where every day there's bound to be a ceremony somewhere, and you are part of the Banjar (village) community regardless of who you are, thus, you are obliged to contribute towards it. It was a little bit hard to chew for me. The thing was, being part of the Banjar, means that everybody knows your business, from the old lady who comes to your house mornings and late afternoons daily to offer prayers to the old man that you occasionally see by the roadside herding his army of ducks. Taxi drivers asking my marital status, 2 seconds after hopping into the cab, followed by how many kids do I have... To me now, I could've taken it in a positive way, caring people and all that, but back then, it was just plain old nosy to me.
I followed the flow, coffee mornings with other wives, realized it wasn't my cuppa tea, dabbled in Yoga, I couldn't handle the giggling fit! So, I wandered about, shopped some, and more shopping, till I was all shopped out. Found a little art supplies store tucked in a little street somewhere in Ubud, so I started painting. Well, nothing major, no masterpieces either. Had a blast in African Dance course down in Denpasar, though. During those solitary wanderings, I happened to pass by a silversmith and goldsmith village, stores by the roadside, their little workshop and home outback. Nothing fancy about it, handmade gold and silver jewelries displayed in glass showcases, little containers filled with beads of different sizes and designs. What caught my attention was the intricate designs of each pieces, the beauty of it. I started to frequent several stores and frequented their workshops to see the process. I gained a few artist friends, hailed from generations of gold and silversmithers. Their skills handed down from one generation to another.
True to Balinese culture, everything must be done in a relax manner, the Balinese are, as a whole, a community of artistes. They are very meticulous, the processes were slow, but they enjoy the work tremendously and immerse themselves in it. This is the part that left me in awe of Bali and the Balinese. Everything is somehow associated with art. From the intricate weaving of coconut leaves for little offering baskets use daily for prayers, to dance, architecture, carvings, paintings, weaving, silver and goldsmithing, just to name a few. However, I cannot claim to be a specialist in Bali and the Balinese culture, as the enormity and the depth of the culture, way of living and even the beauty of the island itself takes a lifetime for one to grasp and immerse oneself into. Unless you are a born and bred Balinese, that is.
These days, as I hold my slightly... dented Balinese Dancer bangle in my hand (yes, it's a prove of my rough handling and clumsiness!), the glitters of the gemstones, the intricate designs and weaves of gold vines and leaves often takes me back to mystical Bali..where it all started..
Tout mortel au plaisir a dû son existence ; Par lui le corps agit, le coeur sent, l'esprit pense ~Voltaire
My Balinese Dancer Bangle - a Balinese Valentine's present by my soulmate years ago. My wedding band, custom~made from where else but Bali!
