“Oc health and safety” regulation has a lot to answer for. In the olden days when recycled newspaper was used to wrap meat and fish & chips, did anyone ever die of newspaper poisoning? Many kids had their first taste of entrepreneurship by collecting and cashing in old bottles and newspapers. Bali has raised recycled newspaper to an art form.

Recycled newspaper shopping bags

There is an odd sort of conundrum at the Gaya pottery. They efficiently produce in serious quantity their own good quality porcelain clay. Because it is produced in such quantity, it is freely used with not much thought of economy. Faulty pieces from the wheels, waste clay and turnings are collected for recycling. This is good as far as it goes, but it would be more ‘green’ not to have to do so much reprocessing. There is a sizeable mountain of clay to be recycled. To address this  issue, one of my current occupations is to help improve the pottery wheel skills of the team. They have for some years been easily and quickly working to an accepted standard, so teaching old dogs new tricks might not be so easy. Wish me luck. Currently chipping away on a number of fronts, introducing different techniques and approaches. Suggestions are always attempted with humour, good will and enthusiasm. Sometimes they are tried, accepted and embraced. Many times things will quietly, without apology just go back to the old way. Sometimes the old way has its own special value, as in Ketut’s unnecessarily decorated trimming chuck.

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You might have noticed the kinks in Ketut’s saucers. That is exactly what the client specified. As the core business of the pottery is exclusive design, dictated by the client in consultation with the design team, the end product does not always meet the broader consensus of good design. However, as you will see from the video clip, the pottery has a delightful atmosphere, both as a building and in the interaction between the villagers.

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Rose is living in a house overlooking rice paddies the other side of Jalan Penestanan from us. She is here for 3 months R & R, which could well be effective but for the intrusion of snakes into her bedroom on a weekly basis. Rose would admit to being a little bit nervous at the best of times, but she is determined to settle in to a peaceful life among the snakes of Ubud. She plans to buy a Gamelan and have lessons. She has seen my ’bone and is planning a party where she thinks we will entertain the guests with gamelan – trombone duets. Beyond “troppo”, I guess, in both senses of the word. They say that you can tune a chain saw but not a trombone, meaning that the trombone can match any of the doubtful notes of the gamelan. Fearless would probably describe the genre.

the main temple gate

Wayan, the manager of the Arthouse villas is keen to immerse us in the local culture. His home village, Pejeng is described as the belly button or exact centre of Bali. Bali anniversaries are a bit different from ours, in that their year has 210 days – 6 months of 35 days each. This means that every month has exactly five weeks, starting on Monday, the month always ending on a Sunday. A consequence of this simplicity is that the change of seasons is not in step with the annual calendar.

in our Sunday best

Anyway, this week has been the anniversary of one of Wayan’s village temples. After 5 days of cleaning and dressing the temple and deities, the anniversary celebrations continue for a further 5 days. Wayan had us properly kitted out, with the blokey special double sarong, sash and headgear, and took us to the third night of action.

The women brought from home offerings that were placed on an altar. The whole community, very young to very old, dressed in their glittering best, sat before the altar for the blessing of the offerings. The figurehead, in accord with tradition, was the visiting priest of a nearby village. The priest sat on a dais at the rear of the congregation with his little bell and led prayers involving frangipani, incense and mantras (Ommmmm etc.). After officiating, the priest disrobed with dignity, revealing his elderly rolls of contentment. Assuming normal dress, he blended with the throng. After the ceremony, the blessed food was taken away by the women who brought it, for giving away.

Rwa Beneda

Two levels down from the sacred area of the temple, preparations began for the Barong or Lion dance. In between times children had the run of all of the gamelan instruments. Sometimes just making noise, but sometimes making a genuine attempt at tunes. That was until the proper band arrived with their gold trimmed uniforms to accompany the dance.