I felt pains of social irresponsibility. The rising sun shimmied across the water, giving a golden depth. 6 am. Four of us sitting in a front-facing line. The boat narrow and lean. Cobra. Our Captain, Made, seemingly skipped over the safety instructions. Perhaps attributed to the lack of emergency plan. No place to stow life vest in the wooden planks. A motor propped up against one side. Runners at either side. The kind of boat that has been used for generations… with the addition of a motor. Lovina is famous for it’s dolphins. A tourist draw. Both domestic and foreign… tourist not dolphins. Nearly 20 boats swarmed upon a patch of sea. Outwardly nothing special, but beneath a morning playground for the notorious residence. They surface in two’s. The boats leaping to get their customers’ the best photo opts. Zipping across the water, literally on top of our aquatic friends. The dolphins disappear. Like a game of cat and mouse. Taunting and playing. The motors roar louder and faster as the dolphins jump higher.
We have come to the north coast of Bali, to Lovina, for the dolphins, for snorkeling, for the near by hot springs.
Three pools of various sizes and depths set in lush. green. tropical. Water flowing into the pools through stone carved faced-fountains. A river flowing a couple hundred feet below. The hot springs. Sounding lovely, relaxing, and wholesome in the Lonely Planet. Perhaps on another day. Another morning. But not this afternoon. We knew better. A public holiday for the Balinese. Nevertheless, we chanced it. As did several hundred Balinese. We stood out. The only white people. The only people in swim suits. The locals jumped and crowded in the shallows fully dressed. Shorts and t-shirts. My bikini and white skin stark. The water brown and cloudy. The temperature of urine. Sonia, a doctor, assured us that urine was at least sterile and likely better than what was really lurking in the murkiness. Girls giggled and chatted with us. Asking if we liked this and if we like that. Trying not to open our mouths too wide for fear of the slashing teens. We navigated to the less crowded deeper parts as few people seemingly knew how to swim.
While indeed the dolphins and hot springs were pivotal to the weekend, the main event was the Nyepi celebration. Nyepi is the Balianese Day of Silence / Lunar New Year. As Bali is laced with a strong presence of spirituality, the day (and activities leading up to it) pays respect to the Gods and harmonize with nature. Why not in line with our western new year’s celebration? Nyepi falls of on the day following the dark moon of the spring equinox.
Villages and neighborhoods labor night and day to produce elaborate ‘Ogoh-Ogoh’. These are gianormous representations of the evil spirits that live amongst us. Vivid colors, bulging eyes, wild hair, fangs, fierce claws, and corpulent figures. I think I much prefer to think that not-so vicious creatures roam about the spiritual realm!
Through out the day prior to Nyepi, the people take offerings to their local temples… fruit, nuts, rice. Strategically and beautifully arranged ridiculously high. On the eve of Nyepi, the Ogoh-Ogoh’s are parade through the community after prayer in the temple. Carried by groups of young boys dressed in sarongs and t-shirts, the effigies are twirled, shaken, and danced about in the streets. People congregate at the main intersection of the village for an ‘exorcism’ as this is the meeting place for the bad energy / evil spirits… of course I am sure you all knew that!
The noise literally deafening. Fireworks. Homemade cannon like fire blowers. Drums of pots and bottles. Cheers and screams. To the beach (at least in the coastal villages of Lovina). The Ogoh-Ogoh’s are doused in gasoline and blazed. The evil spirits vanquished.
Nyepi it’s self is celebrated in sharp contrasted. A day of silence, fasting, and meditation.
No lights.
No noise.
No traveling.
No cooking.
No entertainment.
No working.
No tourist exceptions (except for activities within a hotel complex… so I guess a bit of rule bending)
The airport even closes.
To leave the house in cases of emergency the special ‘cultural police’ must first be consulted.
Hence we lounge about the pool of the hotel studying our Bahasa Indonesia. The only occupants… except for the mosquitoes.
The next day, a fresh start.
No comments:
Post a Comment