It’s the start of the wet season so it’s time to adjust. I have worked out long ago that it is best to get into the natural rhythm of the day in the same manner as the Balinese.
The mornings are busy. Everyone makes the most of the sunshine before the early afternoon tropical downpours disturb the day. The whooshing sound of the rain takes over and everything becomes quiet and still. Even the insects seem to be on mute. It’s rest time. Personally, I don’t need any further convincing that there is nothing better to do than lay down, read a book and usually indulge in a very restful afternoon nap.
Once the rain is over, everything comes back to life. Bamboo blinds that hold back the rain are opened up, paths and balconies are swept, and the farmers go back to work until sunset. The rain often thunders down again late at night, soaking the ground, all ready for the next morning and so the cycle continues.
The cool early mornings are my favourite time of the day. Wayan does not vaguely share my enthusiasm for sunrises so I slip out of the bungalow very quietly. Long ago I learnt to curb my natural habit of instant chatter and activity from the moment I wake up. It took me a while to figure out that I am considered to be a walking, talking nightmare by “non-morning” people.
I head off for a walk every morning. Sometimes to the east in search of the sunrise and the view to Mt Agung, or maybe down the path to the kubu that overlooks the river. I usually get to my yoga mat by 7am or so. For me, this is the perfect start to the day.
I’ve had a few easy, restful days, so this morning was day 1 of stepping it up a little. A week ago I committed to doing the Kokoda Challenge in July 2009. 96kms in hopefully no more than 30 hours. Yikes! I’ve coerced two workmates to join the team and we are all going to manage our own fitness regimes in conjunction with training with Sarge and his other recruits on the trail every two months. It’s a great challenge that I am really looking forward to and I love that the Kokoda Challenge is a charity that supports teenagers who may need some help to get back on track. www.kokodachallenge.com.au I have done plenty of jungle trekking over the years, but always over a few days. Never without sleep! So, no slacking off now, this is serious and we are all determined to make it.
So I hit the hills this morning and even managed some runs in between. (I have no problem trekking up hills for hours, but I absolutely loathe running). So it’s hills when in Bali and then I’m counting on a combination of Bikram Yoga and morning walks with a weight in my backpack when back in Australia to get me there. I have found that Bikram Yoga (heated yoga) has been the best discipline I have ever taken up. Sweating it out in the hotbox for 90 minutes, 3 to 4 times a week, really works on my strength and focus. It’s also great cardio. I didn’t ever think it would be possible for my heart to race as much as it does during a Bikram session. I love the 37-degree heat. It’s like being in the tropics, inducing an instant detox every session.
It is harvest time in the rice paddies alongside Ayung Sari Indah right now. Starting at sunrise, farmers are cutting, threshing and sifting the rice husks. It’s back breaking work. They laugh at me early in the morning as I run past them. They are probably thinking that if I just worked all day with them in the rice paddies I wouldn’t need to be running up and down hills. Fifteen or so people all work together, moving their way through the paddies. There is lots of “omong kosong”, or gossip, in our language. I can hear them all day long. They have breaks and wander over to our kitchen to ask for hot water to fill their thermoses for tea. They get a lot done before the afternoon rains.
We have the most delightful guests staying with us at the moment. They are true “foodies”. Meal times are the highlight of the day for them. Every meal, every flavour, is devoured and appreciated. They have taken to spending time in the kitchen with Gusti, “the kitchen goddess”, learning the secrets. Once again they are astounded that such wonderful food comes out of such a tiny kitchen with such “primitive” appliances. Just two gas flames, a wok, and a bunch of battered saucepans back up the essential mortar and pestle. A few knives and chopping boards complete the kitchen. Four people weave around each other in a space that most westerners would consider adequate for one.
After their first chore, crushing the ginger, garlic, onions, chillies and turmeric with the stone mortar and pestle, a change of clothes is called for. It’s hot, and it’s hard work. No token chopping for guests in this kitchen! Shorts and singlets are required much to the amusement of Gusti and the girls who barely raise a sweat. But they are hooked. We are going to buy them a couple of stone mortar and pestles from the local market to take home with them so they can continue their Balinese food experience at home.
Their enthusiasm is infectious. They suggest that we think about 3-4 day cooking retreats. Start by taking the guests on what they have named “gathering walks”, where we walk for a couple of hours gathering an array of fresh fruits and vegetables along the way from our gardens and farms close by. Then back to the kitchen where the fun begins. Add a couple of afternoons spent in Ubud for some spa treatments and it could be a lovely 3-4 days. It’s a good thought.
A couple of days later …… just back from my farmers’ breakfast.
I woke up to a hot, sunny morning. The mountains have burst through the clouds, everything is sparkling clean and lush after the rain. A perfect morning for photos. I grabbed my camera and wandered up to the village. Gusti and Putu join me for a walk down the village road towards the east, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mt. Agung before the clouds move in later in the morning.
Ten minutes down the road and someone from the rice paddies to the east is yelling at us to come and join them. It’s Sonada, a friend of Wayan’s. His family is out in the paddies transplanting the new rice. Perfect timing, they are ready for breakfast. Sonada’s wife has a basket full of food for everyone that she cooked early in the morning in the kitchen before heading out to the rice paddies. Breakfast is a handful of rice, some bananas coated with tapioca and steamed in a banana leaf, topped with palm sugar. The ever-useful banana leaf is folded and used as a bowl to eat from. Accompanied by a small glass of hot sweet coffee, and of course, the men have a kretek cigarette (clove cigarette) to finish.
As we are eating breakfast, I hear the sound of gamelan music and the men start tapping their fingers to the beat on imaginary drums. I’m looking for the ubiquitous cheap radio or cassette player, but I can’t find it. I ask where the music is coming from and one boy cheekily brings out his mobile phone from his pocket. Yep, they have downloaded gamelan music onto their phones. Nokia has moved into the rice paddies.
The rhythms really are a-changing!
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