Lara's Singapore Blog » Bali

Bali: Ubud’s Sacred Monkey Reserve

Lara — Fri, 21 Jan 2011 01:19:49 +0000

Monkey Forest Road in Ubud terminates at the Monkey Forest Reserve – well actually it doesn’t terminate, but joins Jalan Hanoman (the monkey hero of the Ramayana) and swings back into town. But at this southern end of the town you can enter the reserve, paying a modest price to do so, and with the option of buying bananas for the inhabitants. It contains a whole slew of monkeys; I’ve seen estimates of 340, and new ones are being born all the time.

Naturally, since it’s Bali it has to have sculptures, and the biggest one in the middle of the sanctuary is an ornate swimming pool or bathtub-cum-fountain for the monkeys. They like it and hop in and out, and push each other around in the water like other primates I’ve seen.

The walkway to the bathtub has a concrete berm on the downhill side, where the monkeys line up. They eat the bananas that people bring them, take naps, feed their young, and interact with people. This boy scampered from the entrance to the berm and invited the monkey to play by sitting on the berm:

Note that the monkey has a buddy who has refrained from climbing the boy. I don’t know if they take turns, or if they decided he wasn’t big enough for two, but at any rate they didn’t gang up on him, which was nice. Actually, after closer inspection I’ve decided the buddy may have been preoccupied with nursing her baby.

The monkey took it to a higher level….

Everyone’s happy, and we have a photo op for the boy’s mother. And me, of course.

Of course there’s a temple in the Monkey Sanctuary. It’s not dedicated to Hanoman, but it is definitely monkey-dominated, and I noticed that they don’t keep a lot of delicate materials in the most accessible parts. You can see here the large sheltered platforms that would be used as dance venues ifa dance were scheduled. Despite the monkey access they’re very clean, so they must have a pretty devoted attendant keeping them that way. Human visitors must wear sarongs and sashes (available at the temple entrance) and then they can take even more monkey pictures.

Outside the temple there are lots of monkey statues along the walkways that divide the temple precincts from the surrounding jungle:

These statues look unnervingly lifelike. For comparison here’s a live nursing mother with her tiny baby:

The only unlifelike monkey statue is the giant Hanoman at a different entrance, in an attitude of prayer that I didn’t see any real monkeys assuming; it must be Hanoman, as it’s wearing the sacred checked cloth sarong and has a wise and blissed-out expression appropriate to a devotee of Shiva:

The monkeys like statues as well as fountains:

Or maybe they just like climbing to higher places. One grabbed the end of my pink umbrella and was considering whether he should climb up it, and then up my arm to the top of my head, but I persuaded him not to.

And that’s the end of my Bali blogging. I’ve spent almost as much time editing photos and posting them as I did on Bali. Which means it must be time to go back and see some more!

Ubud, Bali: Hidden views

Lara — Fri, 21 Jan 2011 00:52:12 +0000

Ubud is a nice town. There are a few main drags, mostly named after characters in the Ramayana: Dewi Sita, Jalan Hanoman, and so forth. And if you walk along these streets and look up, or sideways, you can see all kinds of interesting things: Rice paddies behind a cafe, for instance, with tiny frogs hatching and hopping all over the cafe floor, or unexpected statues. Herewith, a small sampling of such views:
This is a restaurant built over the river gorge. We sat in that little concrete hut to eat dinner and admire the view until it grew too dark to see. Some of us were nervous about the quality of construction and feared we’d fall into the river, but it didn’t happen.
If you just look up when you’re walking down the shopping street, you can see someone’s rooftop temple. It’s up above the family’s shop. Temples are holy, and have to be located where nothing impure or unclean will be above them, so best to put them on the roof if space is limited. I like the combination of sacred black palm thatch materials on the shrines with gilded carvings and telephone wires.
Just turn sideways and see an unheralded but tranquil and lovely walkway to someone’s house. Those things on the left look like topiary, but they are moss-covered statues. The golden thing to the right of the gateway is the shrine to the overarching deity, Sangyhang Widhi. He is represented by an empty throne, draped with either the black-and-white checked religious cloth or with gold cloth.
And this is a gateway open to the main drag, Jalan Raya – a pretty carved door and Ganesh greeting you inside. The cloth and wood offering to the left of the door is drom the big festirval that took place a few weeks before we arrived.

Bali: Legong Dance

Lara — Wed, 19 Jan 2011 02:21:47 +0000

In Ubud, you can go to a different dance performance every night of the week. They’re given in the public spaces of the temples, and are sacred, but that doesn’t mean they object to selling tourists tickets. The dances seem to be generally concerned with retelling the Ramayana, or parts of it, so they’re intimately tied to religion. The styles of dance seem to be part and parcel of Bali Hindu culture (that is, 90% of the population does it on a regular basis), and we saw some boys practicing some of the moves in a space adjacent to the library. Anyway, we only had 2 nights in Ubud to sample the dance offerings, and the first one was the North Ubud Women’s Association Legong-style ballet of the Ramayana. This took place in the lotus garden of the Saraswati Temple (which if you recall we were staying in, or adjacent to). The orchestra, unusually for a gamelan performance, was mostly women:

They’re wearing matching formal traditional dress for the performance, complete with similar-styled earrings, flowers and hairpieces. The music itself is nearly entirely percussive: drums, gongs, and gamelans, with one or two flutes. Gamelans are xylophones with hand-forged keys set to precise tones, and those in turn are set in elaborately carved and gilded boxes, behind which the players sit. The players use metal hammers to hit the keys with amazing precision and immediately damp the reverberations with their left hands.
Note that the stage, in front of the gate to the inner temple, is set with flowers and cut-and-folded coconut leaf decorations. These are offerings to the gods, more indications of the show’s sacredness. Below, some gamelan players working in amazing unity.

Here are Rama on the left and Sita on the right. It’s hard to get a good still shot of a dance, but at least you can see Sita’s glorious costume and get an idea of the crowns. The bigger the crown the more important the character, so Rama wins, but Sita’s no slouch. Her dance movements included most of Rama’s, but with train management added – she had to find ways to fit gently nudging it to the side or rear to the rhythms. Both dancers had their fingers curved backwards, gently fluttering, for almost the whole show. I’ve tried that for about 30 seconds – it’s not easy.

Here the couple is chatting together affectionately at the beginning of the story. The Rama dancer’s eyes were wide and staring the whole time. It’s a fine story, including a bad guy, magic, children dancing as monkeys, golden deer and demons, and my favorite dancer of the evening, the monkey Hanuman (in Bali, Hanoman).

That’s him in the center, with his own version of a crown, right next to the drummer, and behind a couple of black-clad monkey kids, his henchmen and army. This dancer was electrifying, to me at least, both as the evil magician and as Hanoman. (I know he was the same guy because Hanoman turned up for the final bow but the magician didn’t.) I think the drummer here is actually the leader of the whole thing – he had to go through the ranks of the orchestra and learn all the other instruments before they let him touch the drums, and he sets the rhythms and keeps everything going. It makes a lot of sense to have the dancers so close to the orchestra. Here’s the ensemble at the end; they don’t bow, just place their palms together in the prayer and greeting gesture. They stayed put for a while so we could take pictures, then just walked off into the wings.
Little monkeys and demons in the front, slightly older golden deer in the middle, and human/godly characters in the rear. The costumes are gorgeous. Rama, the big crown on the left, turned up at a different dance the next night at a different temple, the same actor wearing the same costume. He was running late, and showed up 2 minutes before the dance began, riding a scooter in full regalia – probably got a late start at the central costume depot. My spouse says he looked regal, even on a scooter. I hoped I’d see him riding home from the dance that second night, but no luck. I did, however, see the man who’d been firewalking in a horse costume ten minutes previously, zipping along on his scooter through the center of town. What a cool place.

Bali: Odd Sculptures

Lara — Mon, 17 Jan 2011 00:56:07 +0000

There’s a lot of sculpture in Bali, especially in temples and palaces. There are a lot of wood and stone carvers, and the road between Ubud and the airport is lined with their shops and outlets for their wares, so on your way to the airport you pass armies in volcanic rock that rival the Terracotta Warrior Army of China – only in this case they are ranks of Buddhas, Ganeshes, water-pouring goddesses, linggams, monkeys and other forms too numerous to mention. But now and then there’s one that just craves my attention, like this Garuda-dancer figure from the Water Palace:Or, from that same place, this odd unpleasant person. I think it’s the witch Rangda and her daughter, whom nobody would marry although she was a nice enough girl – apparently they were put off by the prospect of having Rangda for a mother-in-law. Or possibly it’s Rangda and a girl she’s about to eat – what do you think?But around Ubud many of the sculptures are more naturalistic.

This monkey pair over a giant gecko were at the entrance to the Wiringi Cottages and Restaurant, as was this big lizard – water monitor? or komodo dragon? Only the sculptor knows for sure:

You can buy wooden komodo dragons in lots of the shops around Ubud, should you need one. We resisted this particular temptation.

And an updated gate sculpture at Ubud’s palace – a traditional demon, upside-down, surmounted by the head of a happy man in swim goggles:

Bali: Ubud’s Saraswati Temple

Lara — Mon, 17 Jan 2011 00:12:45 +0000

After a few days at the beach we went to Ubud, which is supposed to be the cultural hub of Bali. There are temple dances of several flavors offered every night there, and extensive arts and crafts shopping. There are also art museums, but some in our party are generally opposed to them so we skipped them in favor of cafes and general exploration.

Balinese tradition demands that every village have at least three temples in it, and Ubud is in addition the traditional seat of a royal family, which built its temple-style palace on the main drag. So there are lots of extravagantly decorated and carved temples for a tourist to choose from. A short block from the palace is the Saraswati temple (Saraswati is the goddess of learning and music), which features a big lotus pond in front of the performance area where they stage Legong dances. We stayed at the adjacent bungalows, whence we had immediate access to an outer temple courtyard, where food is prepared and people hang out informally for ceremonies, and then to the inner temple, where the more formal, sacred ceremonies are held. When no ceremonies are going forward, the inner temple is where they keep the gilded gamelans (a series of xylophone-like instruments precisely tuned and hit with hammers) and gongs for the performances, and where they keep the sacred masks for the barong dances.

Here’s the gate from the inner temple to the performance area, complete with toothy guardian over the door:

In this inner courtyard were plenty of shrines and buildings of different sizes, all thatched with a particular black palm fiber used exclusively for holy buildings. They were all open-air buildings, with carved and gilded wood pillars, and carved, painted and gilded bas-reliefs like this one:

There were statues here and there, in the shrines like this Ganesh:And like this fellow (I think it’s Ravana being attacked by Rama’s vulture ally while he’s abducting Sita, but I could well be wrong):There’s one statue that is completely uncovered, and that’s Saraswati herself, complete with her sitar, goose and peacock, not to mention impressive headgear:

Saraswati is the main deity of this temple, so she gets two pictures. That big stupa to the right is a traditional temple structure, depicting the Balinese cosmos. At the very bottom is the turtle who holds the world on his back; the two golden snakes of human earthly needs wind their way up the sides, and at the top (not visible in this picture because the sun was in the wrong direction for photography) is the empty throne that is the symbol of the overall one god, the supreme deity Sanghyang Widi Wasa.

But like most inner temple courtyards, this one houses both the gamelans and other orchestral instruments for sacred performances, and the barong masks:Note that the stairs to the barong shrine are guarded by the ubiquitous crowned snakes, the familiar representations of human earthly needs. The barong, from what I’ve read, is kind of an expression of the good forces guarding and infusing humans. When dormant it stays in its shrine in the temple, like this. But at particular seasons it comes to life, and then the mask is joined to a body thick with palm-fiber hairs, and the barong can go outside the shrine, and into the streets of the town itself, in dances in which it is pitted against the darker forces depicted in the masks to the right, the witch Rangda, her daughter, and a quasi-sympathetic henchwoman. Here’s a closer look at the barong:And below, the opposition, the Rangda and her buddies, with their out-of-control canine teeth.

We actually passed a barong ceremony and dance in the street of a village outside Ubud; the barong is a two-man costume, like the Chinese lion, and it sways around in front of a lot of formally-dressed villagers sitting on the ground in front of it. We didn’t see the part where Rangda appears at the other end of the street and howls threats at Barong, but apparently that’s the drill. There’s some sort of contest between them and Rangda retreats, although unharmed; the ceremony depicts the balance of opposing forces – a balance that everyone prays for in Bali, rather than the vanquishing of evil. And evidently when not brought to life for the season of battle dances, the barong and Rangda dwell pretty peacefully side by side.

Have I mentioned that temples in Ubud are places of beauty? Of course in Bali beauty is everywhere, in the scenery, the ocean, the flowers and jungle everywhere, the rice paddies and volcanic landscape, and in the little food- and flower-filled offerings provided at every little shrine, every big rock and tree of note. And in the Saraswati temple they make sure that orchids add to the grass and pavements, the carving and gilding, the lotus pond and music:It’s a lovely place.

Bali signs

Lara — Sun, 16 Jan 2011 23:24:21 +0000

We didn’t try “taking and joking” with Baba, but we followed the sign and found the Good Karma Bungalows and Restaurant. They are thatched bamboo bungalows right on the beach at Amed. You can hop out your front door and into the water (having run the gauntlet of fishing boats that are parked on the beach itself). The bungalows are two stories high with glassed-in windows on the upper floors, so they may have air con up there, although the lower floors look more traditional. Big seaside verandas with couches in the front. There’s a good cafe in another thatched building, where an elderly lady with betel-stained tooth nubs will try to sell you a sarong, and some cats and dogs running around with the local kids. It’s very nice – and they offer yoga sessions every evening at 5 p.m.
You may notice a certain Hindu flavor to these signs……

This sign was in a library/used book store in Ubud. It’s a great place next to the soccer field, a combination of cafe, language classes, library, and a big recreation hall with a stage where the local kids were practicing their dance moves. Not western dance but traditional Balinese dancing that’s peformed in temples to the sound o fa gamelan orchestra (I’ll post pictures from a performance eventually). The kids we saw practicing were boys; there was a big difference between the skills of the six-year-olds and the one eight-year-old, who had an amazing control over his body – he could already stop on command motions that had already begun, arresting steps 3/4 of the way to completion. I bet in a few years he’ll make a great Marichi or Hanoman.

More Hinduism in Ubud – an ashoka wheel made of forks. We didn’t eat there, but I like the sign.

And finally, the infiltration of American corporate presence into Ubud, adjacent to the temple grounds that host daily dance and gamelan performances:

Bali: Tirta Gangga, or Water Palace

Lara — Sun, 16 Jan 2011 01:10:00 +0000

This place was built in the 1940s by a king of south-central Bali – several sculptures are dated 1948. It’s name means waters of the Ganges, and although it’s remote from India the water did seem pure and plentiful. I don’t know if it’s source is springs or rain. At any rate it’s not a temple, despite the name. It was a pleasure palace for him, and he enjoyed digging in the mud and excavating the pools alongside his workers. Now I think his family still lives in the living quarters adjacent to the water gardens, but there’s also a villa where visitors can stay, and a cafe. Admission is about US 50 cents for Indonesians, 90 cents for foreigners, and you can swim in the pools if you like.

This is the view from the entrance. Outside the entrance are lots of little shops selling snacks and souvenirs, and people trying to become your tour guides. Including one man with a speech impediment, who ever so cheerfully guided us from the parking lot to the entrance and then used a lot of sign language to sell us a little notebook.

There’s a large pool with stepping stones that make a path between lots of sculptures of warriors and curvaceous maidens. You hop from pillar to pillar and watch the fish beneath your feet. It’s fun!

This pool is surrounded by various animal-shaped fountains that pour or drip into it.
Monkeys, bulls, donkeys, you name it. Tigers too:
And this being Bali, where it is widely believed that bulls are the vehicle that transport your soul to the afterlife, bulls as well:

There’s an ornate eagle or goose in the forefront; eagles, geese, swans and vultures all feature prominently in Balinese culture, generally tied to Hindu mythology, and appear all over the place. They all tend to have very ornate and spiky adornments, so often you can only tell the species from the context – which gods they accompany. Beak shape and neck length are of limited diagnostic utility.

Here’s a closer view of the central pagoda fountain.
Another feature is arched bridges between some of the other pools, with snakes sculpted over them:

These dual crowned snakes are EVERYWHERE in Bali, at the base of every temple tower, at the crown of many buildings and shrines. They have names and represent humanity’s earthly needs.

This looks downright European. But look at the fountain feeding the pool to the right:

These images are everywhere too – over temple gates, over doors at the airport; they are not exactly evil spirits but embodiments of the cruder, tougher and nastier elements of human nature. Properly propitiated, they act as guardians and keep bad guys at bay.
But this figure mystifies me entirely:
A serene face on a foot, with knives sticking into the supporting leg? And are those knives sticking in its head? If you know what this represents, do tell!

Bali Costumes

Lara — Wed, 12 Jan 2011 01:47:30 +0000

Like so many Asian countries, one of the wonderful things about Bali is that people wear traditional costumes as well as the ubiquitous T-shirt and jeans (or shorts). Herewith, some pictures of people in Balinese garb:

This man is wearing the Hindu turban (as opposed to the Indonesian muslim skullcap), with a peak at the front where the ultimate deity can perch when invoked. He’s also wearing a white formal shirt and a sarong. For temple use he’d also be wearing a sash, but this is not a temple – it’s a public water park built by a rajah in 1948. He’s not tending a sacred statue, but investigating the fountain-beast.

Here’s a family group at one of the fanciful bridge at the same garden (the Water Palace, or Tirta Gangga). Men and women both wear sarongs and shirts, with sashes.

A closer look at a young couple on the bridge in traditional garb. The girl’s sash really accentuates her figure, and her sarong is lovely. Flipflops are de rigeur. Sunglasses and cameras optional.

This girl is praying at the Saraswati Temple in Ubud. Sarong, sash, and T-shirt. Although we were told that T-shirts are not appropriate temple garb, I think that mostly means the usual tourist T-shirt, dirty, frayed, with ugly or commercial messages printed on it. Plain clean ones seem to be OK.

This man is in charge of motorcycle parking on the main street in the town of Ubud. He’s dressed formally, with a special colored cloth over his sarong. And of course his uniform, the official orange Parking Regulation vest.

Also in Ubud, a combination of traditional and modern dress.

When we went to the Ramayana dance at the temple in Ubud, it was sponsored and performed by the Women’s Association of North Ubud. Unusually, the army of gamelans and gongs was played by women, who did a tremendous job. And who all dressed exactly the same, even down to their earrings and the flowers in their hair. Pink shirts, blue sarongs and sashes, matching hairdos with artificial buns if they needed them. The gamelans are also spectacular; they are housed in the temple grounds and covered in gold, as you see. These dances are a sacred art form, so people dress accordingly.

Here are the dancers of the Ramayana at the end of the piece, and although the picture is fuzzy you can see the glory of the costumes, which are dictated by tradition. The little demons, monkeys, and golden deer were danced by kids, and I saw some of the gamelan players smiling towards them offstage, so I think they and the orchestra are all family. The extra blurry tall white costume is Hanuman, whose electrifying dancing was too kinetic for my camera to catch, and who seemed (appropriately) unable to stand quite still at the end.

Rama, the hero of this story, is the king you see with the highest crown on the left of the picture. This dancer also performed as Rama in a different dance the next night, at a different temple. Apparently these glorious costumes are kept in a central repository (and cleaner’s) in the town, and the dancers go there, put them on, and make their way to the dance venue just before the performance. My husband was lucky enough to see Rama arrive at the second temple on his motor-scooter, in full regalia. And apparently he looked regal even then. Alas, we didn’t get any pictures of dancers on scooters.

Bali: Rural life

Lara — Wed, 12 Jan 2011 01:22:14 +0000

These are cheery Balinese cows, in their little shelter about 50 feet from the beach. All the cattle we saw were these smallish red ones. There are little huts all up and down the precipitous slopes of East Bali, and I think they just move the cows to the ones with the lushest grass every day.

Here’s a fairly common sight, a barefoot person carrying fodder up or down the road, presumably to be fed to goats, cows, or pigs. Two loads of fresh weeds balanced on a pole. This looks like a young man toting the stuff, but we saw old men and women doing it. too.
Bali may be Hindu, but it is definitely not vegetarian. The people feed the animals, who feed the people. They eat beef, as well as pork.

This is the entrance to a newer house along the rural road in Amed. There was a lovely wooden door in a green exterior wall, left open so I could peer inside and see a pretty pebble-paved path and a statue of Ganesh. This seems to be the architectural style, to have an open gate with a deity looking out. Sorry the vine obscures Ganesh’s trunk.

Here is a simple family temple compound, on the cliff overlooking the Japanese shipwreck. It’s a little neglected – needs new paint, and the offerings scattered on the ground are probably a week old; usually they are fresh and green, replaced at least once a day by the family, so maybe this family was on vacation for a week. Anyway, if you look closely you can make out a cat in the little shrine on the left. It had been sitting there happily sheltering from the sun, but when I approached with my camera it departed, so it’s mostly a gray shadow.

Bali Hotel Architecture

Lara — Tue, 11 Jan 2011 00:50:12 +0000

We stayed in two hotels in Bali: One was a 3-month old penthouse suite overlooking the ocean (in Bali, even we can afford such a thing), and the other was a bungalow in the small city of Ubud, adjacent to the Saraswati Temple there. Both advertised themselves as bungalows, although they were adjoined to one or two other units; I guess the idea is that the bungalow is not so much an independent unit as a small duplex or triplex, differentiated from a regular giant impersonal hotel. At any rate, both places had big verandas, carved wooden doors, and traditionally built roofs/ceilings. Here’s the ceiling.

It’s made of teak (I think) beams overlaid with matting made of coconut leaves, with a tile roof above that. You can stay in thatched bungalows as well, in which case the ceiling is a view of rows and rows of neatly-tied thatch, knotted to lateral bamboo beams. Either one is pleasingly symmetrical to look at, waterproof (if your thatch is updated) and quiet in a rainstorm.

The veranda by the sea came with huge views and enormous wooden couches, suitable for two people to sleep on:

I know this is a dark picture, but you can make out the couch. We spent a LOT of time on these couches, reading, drinking coffee, watching the weather and fishing boats, and just hanging out.

Here’s the carved wooden door from the beach unit:

Like many doors in Bali it’s split. The two halves open inward, and the carving at their tops is actually just a detached stationary frame. It had a modern key lock on the inside, while older buildings have a chunk of wood that you slide through slots on the two door halves to keep them together. For comparison, below is the veranda and carved wooden door (and window cover) from our temple bungalow in Ubud:

Not too shabby, eh?

The beach hotel boasted three infinity pools, so maybe a total of ten users per pool. Here’s the one we had access to:

And the beach bungalows feature outside showers adjacent to the bathrooms, a pretty common phenomenon in Bali, and very practical. If you don’t close the bathroom door you get tiny many-footed visitors. But look at the hand-laid stonework:

Which brings me to the topic of stone carving. You’ve seen the beautiful wood carving on the doors and windows. But the Balinese can do that stuff in stone, too, and they do it EVERYWHERE. Here’s half of the gate to an abandoned bungalow complex overlooking the sea:

There’s another gate like this on the right-hand side of the road, symmetrical in every way. Splayed-winged Garuda, curious elephantine heads, flourishes, curlicues, flowers, you name it. I originally thought this was a temple or a graveyard, since there’s an elaborately carved stone fence all around the complex; but Komang John, who runs the Blue Moon Villas where we stayed, said he’d heard that it was another bungalow-based resort that had been sold a few years ago, and the owners were awaiting planning permission before rennovating.

Once we were in Ubud, we were walking around the city and needed lunch. I saw a menu posted on the sidewalk, advertising food and lodgings at the cottages just down the alley, so we followed the alley (always a good idea in Ubud), and found bungalows, with a restaurant and pool. Look at what someone had carved in the small cliff between the restaurant pool and the street above:

This is the view from the restaurant, over the pool to the cliff. The water nymphs are conveniently close to the pool. As our offspring noted, it was kind of like those Buddhas in niches that the Taliban blew up in Afghanistan some years ago, on a smaller scale.

But the carving mania is not limited to floral motifs and gods. As we left this restaurant, this statue saw us off:

Nothing like an enormous water monitor posted at a gateway to wish you a safe journey!