I stood upright on one of the tops of Kintamani's volcanic lips with a trusted two-wheeled mountain bike ready for the thirty-five kilometer journey from the summit of the volcano to Ubud. A very nice view overlooking Mount Batur with its glittering crater lake at its base, gives me all the motivation I need to embrace this exciting challenge
I keep following my cycling guide at a steady pace and meandering through small villages that are so beautiful with the villagers. Along this rural road made my heart smile. I passed a duck farmer with their long bamboo pole that showed its way with a white flag on top, rocking their ducks left behind. I paddled like a village after a rich green rice village village framed by a group of diligent women, hand-rolled rice threshing and granular filtration with a giant bamboo basket. I barely passed any city, which made me feel connected to the traditional village life and the quiet and rural life of the Balinese village.
Beautiful women dressed in bright ceremonial with white lace tops and brightly colored sashes leading to the temple I was passing by. They walked in a single, beam procession, carrying tall fruit towers on their heads, which were made for extraordinary photo opportunities. By traveling 10 km per hour, I feel like having sex with what I can see, feel and hear. The distant calling temple bell and the little quaint lane made me feel like I found the real Bali, and open to the stranded moments that came.
I stopped in a small village and talked to a young Balinese man named Kadek, who was chiming at some ancient cymbal. "It's called a gamelan," Kadek explains, "It's very complex and consists of a sophisticated set of instruments, and these drums have been played at our temple ceremonies for centuries, back in Bali."
Kadek explained that the gamelan is played at weddings, funerals and travel rites and other ceremonies. The gamelan is dominated by memory, by the heart. Kadek invited me to return the next day to attend the birthday celebration of his family temple. Not only did I hear the gamelan being played, but I could also meet the master of wayang kulit and see Wayan Kulit, the art of playing ancient shadows in Indonesia.
"There is no need to bring anything, we have prepared many meals, and we welcome the guests, in fact, it is our great honor to share our custom with foreign guests." He immediately gave me his Facebook name, added me on his phone and I promised will return.
I find that wherever I go to Bali, from hotel clerks to local fruit vendors in the market, the conversations I make always seem to return to culture and tradition. The traditional Balinese life is what you experience outside of the main tourist areas of Kuta, Nusa Dua and Seminyak. From what I experienced, Balinese life is very ritualistic and immersed in Hindu religious practices. For me, every day seems to be another history lesson, which will gradually decompose in a natural way. Bali is essentially a living culture.
at the end of her I found the Balinese very gentle and intuitive with every encounter I faced. Either it happened to meet a gamelan player or spend time in an ancient meditation cave. the famous Island of the Gods breathes even with rhythm and welcomes the curiosity of strangers to explore Bali that is very pure and authentic.