As one of the 17,000 islands here in Indonesia, Bali is smothered in rolling, emerald green rice fields and palm trees. A tropical island whose massive cliffs are endlessly pounded by loud and powerful waves. A little nook on the globe that oozes with natural beauty. But, above all, Bali is a place overflowing with culture, ritual and tradition. The early morning’s fragrant and aromatic smoke from incense constantly filling the air. The nearest temple’s call to prayer vibrating over loud, muffled speakers at sunrise. The men and women wrapped up in their colorful and intricately designed sarongs, balancing big burlap sacks of rice on their heads. The delicately woven palm tree leaves filled with fresh flowers and snacks that are offered daily to the Gods. You need not look very far to see or feel just how deeply intertwined the Balinese are to the roots of their culture and tradition.
Unlike the vast majority of Indonesia that is Muslim, 94% of Bali adheres to Balinese Hinduism, which is a combination of existing local beliefs and those of traditional Hindu influences from SE Asia and India. Within these beliefs lies an artistic and dramatic series of ceremonial dances. I won’t bore you with the unpronounceable names or their meaning, if you are genuinely that interested, a quick search on Wikipedia will do the trick. However, we will share a slice of our extremely entertaining experience with the ancient and ritualistic traditional dance, the Kecak (pronounced Ka-chack).
On the climb up to the temple, where the ceremony takes place, the grounds are crawling with monkeys.
Cheeky, aggressive monkeys.
Before entering the Temple, feels like one of the edges of earth.
Atop the peninsula at Uluwatu temple.
Minus Balinese Hinduism holidays, this traditional
ceremony and dance take place at sunset every evening of the year.
Preparing themselves for Balinese Broadway. Between 70-80 men simultaneously chant while the women dance and contort their body frames into very disciplined positions and poses.
The spiritual guru, also the accepter of all sacrifices, prepares the fire.
He’s completely locked in and focused on his duties and responsibilities for the offerings of fire and holy water.
The chanting by the men was spectacular, I could not get the sounds & harmonies out of my head for days.
Music to my ears.
The dual of the dancing beauties ensues.
Safely guarded by her protectors.
The costumes, the colors. The fire from behind actually looks as if it’s coming from his mouth.
So much within the rituals of this dancing is predicated
on strict hand and hip movements.
A pause for prayer and respect to the fire.
The determination in those eyes.
The grand finale. At this point, the energy in the air could’ve been cut with a butter knife. Quite the experience.
