Emily can’t sleep. She wakes up between 6:30 and 7:00 every morning – even when she plans to sleep later. She’s not nervous. There’s nothing gnawing at her. She doesn’t even blame the roosters that run around every house and field in Bali like her mom did.
If there was ever proof of magic and special powers in Bali – this is it. Were the Olympics ever to add a Sleeping (non-depressed) event, my wife would be a gold medalist and international legend.
“Did you see how she slept on those train tracks even when the train rushed overhead?! Brilliant!”
“Yes, the American girl really impressed the judges when she slept on her luggage while it was being checked in for the flight. Bravo, Team USA!”
“Well, I thought the Jamaicans had her on the run in the Sleeping Through A Sun Lamp competition….but that Emily can sleep through anything!”
Not in Bali, she can’t.
Crazier still, she’s not tired when she wakes up. Emily rolls out of bed, goes outside, has her coffee and works happily.
I’ve considered taking her to a doctor. Only it’s hard to decide which kind. General practitioner? Sleep specialist? I’m leaning toward Balinese spiritual doctor. It’s VERY possible there’s an evil Balinese spirit at work here. Whatever’s happening feels supernatural.
Emily’s not worried. She figures it’s Bali and it will pass when we leave. I agree with her. Bali has its own rules. It breathes magic. There’s very little you can do but submit to its will – or get on airplane.
The Balinese, of course, are fully part of the the island’s ways. Last night, on the full moon and continuing on today, every village is in prayer and ceremony. It seems like only two and a half weeks ago everyone was in prayer and ceremony with Nyepi – the Balinese New Year. But that wasn’t the full moon. After Nyepi the full moon is the most important religious time – every month.
I might otherwise lose track of the moon. I’m not that celestially attentive. But the Balinese make it hard not to notice as it becomes impossible to drive. Each village diverts traffic to make room for ceremonial processions and offerings. They even have village appointed traffic diversion guys in their black and white checked sarongs and armed with red light sabers like air traffic controllers.
Sitting on the gazebo yesterday evening, watching the sunset, the air was filled with the sounds of Balinese dance and storytelling. The high pitched voice of the male narrators recount stories of the Ramayana in ways that entertain adults and children alike. The Balinese turn religious readings and stories into amusing and relatable theater. Because of the fun watching dances and shadow puppet plays, these stories become part of children’s consciousness and embed themselves into their memories. It’s not only enjoyable, but part of perpetuating traditions and religion.
After the stunning sunset, by the light of the great, glowing moon, the sounds of chanting rose up from temples and villages on all sides of our house. While eating dinner and admiring the sky, prayer rose from every corner of Bali.
I don’t understand a word of Balinese (they don’t pray in Indonesian), but at different times it sounds like reverence, respect, beseeching, and sacrifice. In the still of the night air and under the pale moonlight, it sounds like people calling into the sky and reaching up to the heavens. It sounds as exotic and mystical as anything I’ve ever heard.
Since arriving in Bali, I’ve received emails from many of the friends and family members who visited me here years ago. Interestingly, almost every one has commented on the sounds of chanting being one of their strongest memories of Bali. I always felt like it wasn’t such a common event – mainly full moons and holidays. But being here and listening with new ears refreshed by 4.5 years away, I realize just how much chanting there is on all kinds of evenings – and especially on full moons.
Today, men wearing their ceremonial dress are riding around Ubud on their motorcycles. They’re just as relaxed as can be in their sarongs and headdresses. I saw an old man of the priestly caste riding by in his white sarong and special jacket. Even the priests have modern mobility these days. In many businesses, people leave early or even close shop so employees can make their way home for ceremony.
One restaurant in a central part of Ubud that caters solely to tourists has a sign that it won’t open until afternoon tomorrow. People will be up late tonight and some have ceremonial activities in the morning.
Emily’s mom, Susan commented that she would never want to Balinese – it was too much work with all the religious rituals and obligations. This coming from a Jewish woman. For anyone who doesn’t know it, it takes a LOT of work to run a Jewish home and raise a Jewish family. I took notice because on Rosh Hashanah, I can assure you Susan isn’t taking it easy.
One challenge of the modern Balinese is that they go home to THEIR villages for ceremonies. This may sound obvious and easy, but not always. Now that people move for work, they don’t necessarily live in their own villages anymore. For example, the driver we use with guests and airport runs – Made (said MAH-DAY) – moved to Ubud for the work. He’s from a small mountain village southeast of Singaraja in Northern Bali.
Sometimes he skips full moon ceremonies because whenever he goes, he has to drive four to five hours back to his village. When his village’s most important ceremony occurs each year, he’s gone for several days. The religion here doesn’t work like ours. Made can’t just join the nearby temple and become part of the nearest village to the place he rents. He is and always will be an outsider in this part of Bali.
It’s a lot of work to be Balinese.
However, I’m glad they do it because it’s beautiful and fascinating. The Balinese connect and devotion to their spiritual beliefs is part of the wonder of Bali.
I’m also half-hoping there’s something to it all. With all the prayer to Shiva and blessings and offerings to keep away the evil spirits, I’m hoping someone can chase away whatever it is that has ruined my wife’s once powerful sleeping abilities. I have an Olympian who has practically been brought to her knees – and I suspect there’s a witch or evil spirit involved. Only in Bali.
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