Sanur, Bali

Contrast the modernity of Singapore's Changi’s airport with that of Denpassar, Bali. The Ngurah Rai International Airport is much smaller, but what it lacks in size it makes up for in character. Incense wafts through the terminal, a welcome olfactory treat after some of the foul smells of Asia, which become intensified in the heat. (Think the city landfill on the hottest summer day.) Fabulous stone statuary decorates the halls & corridors; in fact, there is an altar, in an outdoor courtyard.  At the airport. We paid $25 US dollars each for a 30 day Indonesian visa-on-arrival. Before leaving the airport, we changed out the last of our Sinagpore dollars into Indonesian currency. So now we’re millionnaires, apparently, with a daily budget of around half a million (rupiahs, that is. The exchange rate works out to somewhere around $1 CDN: 8700 IDR). Makes for some interesting on-the-fly calculations: the cab driver wanted 95,000 for the 10 km ride to Sanur, where we’ll be staying for a few days.  A scary sounding number, but in reality that’s just over $10.



Balinese offerings



The Balinese appear to be extremely pious Hindus. We spent quite some time in conversation with an amiable Indian man staying in the room next to ours. He was able to shed some light on the ceremonies and traditions of the Balinese, as we noticed everyone seemed to be getting ready for something important. The locals were celebrating Diwali, because of the full moon. Our new friend Arindam is inspired by piety of the Balinese; he feels their devotion surpasses that of most Hindus in India. On the sidewalks, incense smolders and there are offerings outside shops; palm leaves woven into small baskets. These hold a variety of items: flowers, fruit, rice; some even had wrapped candy or small crackers. My initial, somewhat jaded thought, was that the locals might be engaging in these devotions for the benefit of the tourism industry. Our insatiable appetite for the exotic - I’ve heard stories of locals rushing into their homes to change out of their t-shirts before the vanload of tourists arrive. However, in stepping back and observing, we have seen people praying, or setting out their offerings and it seems sincere; an outward expression of faith.



Apparently enjoying a smoke

 That said, look what someone did to this innocent Hindu deity:

Ah, the reality of traveling: scenes of beauty alongside squalor; religion intertwined with consumerism. Or a 24 hour McDonalds with it’s delicately carved Balinese roof a stone’s throw away from an ancient temple.

There was a cock fight the other day; Aron went to see what was going on, without me. Even being 6 feet tall, he had a hard time seeing much. Men crowd around the ring, some stand on chairs, cheering and shouting. I read somewhere that, now, the cock fighting is as much about the gambling as anything, though it’s a vestige of the blood sacrifices for the full moon ceremonies! And this “hobby” of the villagers seems to be fairly common throughout other parts of the world - we heard this was extremely popular in the Philippines. Aron says the men pinch and pull at the waddle on the roosters’ necks to rile them up, while they face off. By nature extremely territorial, and not the most intelligent of creatures, they easily become enraged at their opponent. They fight with their sharp beaks, obviously, but their feet become weapons as they are equipped with small knives. To me, it’s unbelievable such a thing even exists, it’s so cruel and gruesome. The battle takes around 3 or 4 minutes after which their necks promptly wrung. Aron watched as the formerly proud roosters were plucked for the soup pot, a rather ignominious end.  The winner would have to come out of the battle completely unscathed in order to live another day.