Another Day Unfolds in Bali.

There is a calm urgency about my mornings in Bali. I’m keen to arrive at the beach a little before 6 am, drawn by the dawn but also by the anticipation of catching a sighting of Mt Agung on the horizon. When Guning Agung is in hiding, I admit I’m disappointed, and move along with my day a little more quickly.

Gunung Agung

I head along the beach pathway in the direction of the cake lady’s stall, situated on the brick wall at Pantai Sindhu. You have to be early to buy her freshly made Dadar Gulung. All her special cakes have been snapped up by 7am. She is round and sweet, just like her cakes and greets me with Selamat Datang if I’ve been away for a while. If it’s her day off or if she has ceremony, I wander down the road to the Sindhu market to buy cakes there, along with a hand of bananas or a few mangoes. Indonesian cakes are light and sweet, and incorporate three main ingredients- sticky rice, coconut and coconut palm sugar, and come in an endless array of shapes, colours and textures. They are boiled, steamed, baked or fried, often enclosing a secret ooze of bean or palm syrup and are small enough to wolf down in two bites. I’m very fond of green cakes, a colour extracted from the Pandanus leaf and striped jelly cakes made from agar-agar.

Today’s surprise package from a new lady at Pasar Sindhu. A triangular parcel, made from banana leaf, filled with a sweet mixture of black long grain sticky rice, boiled jaja, shredded fresh coconut and a generous drizzle of coconut palm sugar syrup. I did not share this wonderful concoction with anyone.

Yesterday’s Pasar Sindhu was alive and more frantic than usual. By 6 am, motorbikes and trucks had filled the small carpark entrance. Something was going on and I had to find out. The rows were crowded with vendors of cakes, ceremonial nic nacs, chicken stalls and flowers: I could sense excitement and frenzy, that buzz that permeates markets before a big festivity, akin to the mad rush in Melbourne markets before Easter or Christmas. I sought out my friend Ketut: she runs a little kitchen ware stall at Pasar Sindhu and is a goldmine of information. Today, she informed me, was Tumpek Wayang. 

Ketut’s shop, Sindhu Market.
Ceremonial Baskets, Sindhu Market

When Ketut mentioned Wayang, or puppets, I almost ran home to my books and internet, keen to find out more about the day and the ceremonies that would follow. Along the footpath and business doorways of Jalan Danau Tamblingan, I almost tripped over the elabourate displays of Canang Sari. Today’s floral offerings were completely different, much bigger than the usual little baskets, with rectangular bedding of palm leaves and another jagged edged leaf, as well as flowers. Each business had the same leafy arrangement- another mystery to uncode.

Tumpek Wayang, occurring every six months, is a festival when puppeteers perform purification rites to purify their bodies both physically and mentally. It is also a day of the performing arts, when offerings may be made to musical instruments and dance equipment. On this day, puppeteers (Dalang) throughout the island will present offerings to their shadow puppets (wayang kulit) with the intention of honouring the Lord Iswara. The puppets are taken out of their cases to be blessed by their owners and placed as if an actual performance is being held. This ceremony is staged at the different temples, and is called Sapuh Leger. In short, this is the day of puppeters and the puppets themselves.

I have profound memories of the puppeteers and Balinese shadow plays, Wayang Kulit, of old Bali. On our first trip to Bali in 1978, travelling then with two young children, aged 8 and 7, we set out at dusk on a horse and cart into the countryside to see this famous shadow play. The night was dark: no street lighting or electric lighting of any kind lit the streets or houses back then. The village was lit by kerosene lamps. On that occasion, we were the only Westerners in the village. Fortunately we were met by the local schoolteacher. He spoke English and kindly offered us some tea and green cakes – my love of Indonesian cakes began on that day. The Wayang Kulit stage was raised and broad, covered in a long stretched white sheet and back-lit by a flickering lamp. The exotic sounds of the gamelan orchestra tinkled through the night, as hundreds of villagers sat below the stage in the dark and watched in awe. We took our place in the audience as the puppets performed the Ramayana, a show that lasts for 6 hours or more, as we soon found out. At some point we realised that we needed to exit gracefully: carrying our sleepy children, we managed to find a horse and cart to take us back to our palm thatched losmen.

Today’s Tumpek Wayang celebrations were in full swing by mid afternoon.  As the amplified voice of the puppet master, exaggerated and theatrical, emanated loudly from the nearby temple, I wondered whether the voice I heard was that of a real working Dalang or a recording: there aren’t so many working Dalangs in Bali these days, ( in 1990 there were around 2-300 Dalangs but only 30 working Dalangs ¹) not because of any demise in tradition, but because the role of Dalang is a demanding one, requiring skill in story telling, improvisation, comedy, linguistic skill, religion, singing, music, orchestra direction, puppet making as well as stamina. 

As food stalls began to line the streets, groups slowly gathered, dressed in white and gold, the colours of purity, and walked towards the temple for the ceremony, due to start at 4.30 pm.

Most days go like this in Bali. After 40 years of visiting, I’m still trying to fathom the mysteries and joys of Balinese Hinduism. Sunrise to sunset and the time in between may bring an afternoon ceremony, a seaside cremation, or a purification ritual. Read the signs and keep your senses alert to gongs, bells and gamelan, then ask the locals about the day’s events. If you wish to join in, or visit any temple or ceremony, you’ll need the right outfit- a top with sleeves, a traditional printed cotton sarong and a scarf tied around the waist. While Balinese women tend to wear a lace kabaya, it is acceptable for westerners to wear any other sleeved shirt or T-shirt. Balinese men go for the double sarong on ceremonial days and look extremely dashing. Western men need only learn to tie their sarong in the appropriate way, worn over shorts. 

¹ For further reading on Balinese ceremony and culture, see Bali, Sekala &Niskala, Essays on Religion, Ritual and Art. Fred B. Eiseman, Jr. Tuttle Publishing 1990. A remarkable book and a must for lovers of Balinese culture.

22 thoughts on “Another Day Unfolds in Bali.”

    1. My kids, now with kids of their own, have started coming again. I speak some Bahasa Indonesian, not Balinese, which is different but then most Balinese speak both. I’m learning Bahasa Indo again and need to improve. Thanks Loisajay for your lovely comment.

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  1. For some reason I thought of you back in Melbourne-town and not in your spiritual domain of Bali . . . perhaps the biggest explanation came upon learning you had returned time and again for forty years – no wonder it is your second home for which you yearn when the busy modernity of life Down Under demands a relief period . . . I had no idea . . . no wonder you have thoughts of putting down more permanent roots and having your own abode to which you can return to gaze at The Mountain when most of us are still asleep. A spiritual post which I shall keep for quiet hours to read up and learn . . . . be well . . .

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    1. Hi Eha, yes, I’m back in Melbourne though my heart and mind is still in Bali. The dreams and the sense of displacement are rather disturbing this time. I can’t wait to go back. I still have many half finished Bali posts: these will come out when I can find time between a desperately dry and weed infested garden, my mother’s care, and a city house reno. Bali is always on my mind, but the love has increased over the last 10 years and now I am ready.

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  2. A magical tour you’ve taken us on today. As always after reading your post, I have a big smile on my face. Such a great story of your first journey into the countryside to see the puppeteers. I’m sure your kids will keep that memory for all times.

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  3. Another beautiful glimpe of Bali and bonus anecdote from the past. When I now think of Bali I can’t help but see it through your eyes and be grateful it exists; the other Bali is for other people who haven’t the benefit of your sensibilities and inspiration.

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    1. Thanks for the kind words Dale, I’m glad you see Bali through my eyes now. It’s there for those who are attuned. I’m going to follow up this post with one that reveals the offensive tourist.

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    1. And her shop is full of kitsch gems… hand made wire rat traps- so attractive I could hang them up as decor, enamel ware trays, wooden spoons, Balinese ulegs, hnad made microplanes…she is another lovely Balinese friend.

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  4. What a lovely post Francesca. Full of little details and joys. Round and sweet like her cakes! We are heading to Chiang Mai in a few weeks (first time) – I know this is a fave of yours and to be honest, your stories are one of the reasons we are going. We’re back in Bali next August. xxx

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    1. Thanks Fiona, and welcome back to bloglandia- I noticed a post of your on IMK. I think you’ll enjoy Chiang Mai, so many things to do there. Plenty of interesting side trips, as well. Great city.

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