But before expanding on that statement, I should set the scene a little. On 28th March, we left Australia without incident and arrived in the early evening in Den Pasar. Anticipating that we might find arriving back into Asia a culture shock, we had booked a week's accommodation in Ubud and a car from the hotel to pick us up.
As we came out of the baggage hall, we looked eagerly for our name amongst the throng of name-boards surrounding the exit. Annoyingly, our name wasn't there and we had to do just what we hadn't wanted - throw ourselves into the scrum of men who tugged and pulled at us, all wanting to take us somewhere to suit their agenda. At least we knew where we were going and how much it would cost, so ignoring all the unwanted attention, we headed first of all for an information centre (who kindly phoned the hotel for us to confirm that they had forgotten to book a taxi) and then to a taxi bureau for some hard haggling on the fare.
It was a Friday night and it took us over 2 hours to make the 25 mile journey from the airport. The population of Bali has exploded in recent years (with nearly 5 million people crammed into less than 6,000 square kilometres, well over double the density of the UK) and it feels like the southern half of the island is now a single conurbation.
I have been to Ubud once before, way back in 1990 and remembered its beautiful setting amongst rice paddies, with a thriving, but low-key arts and crafts community. Much has changed since then, of course. The city centre is now completely engulfed by hotels, shops and restaurants for tourists and this development has now spread out along all of the roads heading in and out and even along the alley-ways that used to lead from the road into the fields.
Out hotel was a good example of the development, which treads a fine-line between sensitive and over-intensive. It has a fairly small frontage onto the evocatively named Monkey Forest Road, but walking through a narrow alley, the complex opened up and ran on for a couple of hundred yards and they had built a few dozen rooms in small 2-storey units around courtyards formed by a swimming pool at one end and rice fields at the other.
In spite of all of this over-development and the traffic that clogs it's streets, Ubud retains a certain charm with many old buildings, picturesque scenery and bountiful choices of places to eat and drink.
But where does silence fit into all of this? On our second day, we discovered that we were on the eve of Nyepi, the holiest time in the Balinese Calendar, also known as the Day of Silence, or the Balinese New Year (we are now in the year 1936, in case you hadn't realised!) In the lead up to Nyepi, Balinese Hindus go through a process of spiritual cleansing to clear the decks for the year ahead. For weeks, each of the local villages (Ubud is actually considered to be 13 villages that have grown together) had been quietly building huge puppet-models, called Ogoh-Ogoh: depicting fearsome creatures, crafted in intricate detail and painted in the most garish colours.
On the eve of Nyepi, the Ogoh-Ogoh's moment arrives. They had been mounted onto bamboo poles and were now carried by the villagers in procession to the cross-roads in the centre of Ubud, which is considered to be the most spiritually charged point of the city. It felt like a gathering medieval army: the arrival of each village procession greeted with cheers, as the numbers swelled.
From the crossroads, the full procession set off down Monkey Forest Road, to a communal field where they all collected. The procession was wonderfully vibrant: the paraders, men, women and children of all ages, all dressed in matching shirts and sarongs, laughed and shouted and beat on drums, cymbals or anything else that could make a noise loud enough to frighten off any lurking spirits. Locals not taking part in the parade walked around their homes and gardens bashing pots and pans and waving incense sticks and fire crackers were set off liberally - again all designed to chase out evil spirits. Some of the puppets were so big, that they couldn't pass under the electricity wires and at these points the whole parade came to a comical, sudden halt, whilst a man with a long stick lifted the wires and the puppet was lowered as close to the ground as possible.
Tourists lined the route at some points, but it really felt as though the locals were doing this for their own reasons first and foremost and we were just welcome participants in their party.
After the storm, though, comes the calm. The literal translation of Nyepi, is 'to observe silence' and the following 24 hours is designed to provide a period of calm, quiet spiritual introspection. In practice, this means that for 24 hours, nobody is allowed to leave their homes and visitors are expected to observe this also. An official leaflet we were given said 'this means that you must stay inside, shine no lights, light no fires and no noise or music is to be heard from midnight 30th March until sunrise on 01st April. No motors or vehicles may be used except in dire emergencies'. The leaflet finished with the suggestion that we 'enjoy the rare experience of complete peace and quiet'. We intended to do just that - probably the only time in the year where this can be experienced in Bali.
The day went off pretty much as suggested. Our hotel staff were allowed to prepare food and drink and bring it to our rooms, but other than that we weren't able to leave the hotel grounds. I poked my head out and looked down the street and saw the kind of stillness that one would expect to find in a city post-apocalypse. Even with a head poke though, I was quickly ushered back inside!
The combination of the parades and the subsequent period of silence was a wonderful thing to experience and we felt very privileged to have been here to witness it, as well as pleased that such a religious and cultural rite is still practiced and observed so conscientiously.
Here are some pictures below of the Ogoh-Ogoh puppets on parade. Make up your own mind which might have done the best job of frightening off evil spirits, though the children's was our favourite!
Aside from Nyepi, Ubud does have a strong atmosphere of spirituality about it. Everywhere one goes, there are small shrines and, particularly first thing in the morning, it is common to see people laying out small offerings on the pavement: typically a few grains of rice, or some flower blossom wrapped in a banana leaf, usually with a smoking incense stick
These offerings are one of a number of things one has to look out for / avoid treading on whilst walking down the streets of Ubud, the others being: cracked paving slabs that look like they will fall into the sewer below at the next persons tread; motorbikes, particularly when stepping off such broken paving slabs; dogs and their excrement; men trying to sell taxi rides and women trying to sell massages.
Our time here slipped by very quickly though, despite it being hot and dirty and noisy at times. We were certainly helped by having picked a nice place to stay and the staff were so nice, that we forgave them for forgetting to pick us up at the airport. It was also an oasis amongst the hubbub of the Ubud streets, allowing us to dip in and out in easy slices, and had free, unlimited wireless internet, which felt hugely liberating after the frustrations of Australia and New Zealand.
We went out for 2 long walks into the countryside around the city (setting off at first light before the heat of the day); hired a driver to take us on a day tour of the eastern side of the island; had a massage at one of the ubiquitous local spas; walked down to the Monkey Temple at the far end of our road and some of the other temples at the other end of the city and otherwise spent time swimming, relaxing around our pool and trying out the wonderful local food, which is cheap and tasty. Oh yes - and 5 to 7 pm each evening was happy hour for mojitos - how can one turn down 2 for 1 when they weren't expensive to start with?!
I will just elaborate a little on one of these activities. The macaque monkeys at the Monkey Temple were amongst the most aggressive we have come across. Annoyingly they have probably been encouraged in this by the inappropriate behaviour of some locals who want to make money from them (such as selling bananas to feed to them) and some tourists who think they are cute and forget that they are wild animals! The monkeys congregate around a rustic temple complex that runs through a forested river valley. We kept a good distance from them, but were attacked by one who tried to pull Sue's bag out of her hand - even though it contained no food. Fortunately we saw it coming and I was able to ward him off without it getting too nasty, but we got talking to a Canadian guy who was bitten several times by a group of monkeys that tried to steal his water bottle. Fortunately there is no rabies in this troop, but we quickly decided to give them a very wide berth!
Before closing this post, I should just elaborate on why the title of this blog is 'Days of Silence' in the plural. Wednesday 9th April is another important day in Indonesia, being the General Election when they elect their parliament and the precursor to the Presidential Election in the autumn. But, whilst one might expect things to heat up, the last 3 days before polling are designated 'days of silence': no campaigning is allowed and all posters and political banners must be taken down. Hmm - maybe we could learn something from that!
In the next post, I will give you our impressions of the rest of Bali.
Andy, looks nice after all the hubbub! Cheers, Chris
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