On the road, our first stop was to a local Balinese compound. Families live together on into adulthood, with wives and children adding to the unit, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles often all living together. Each room serves a purpose in the house. Related to the parts of the body, each compound has a family temple, bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen.
The family usually has a main source of income as well related to the compound. The first family we visited farmed. In the back of the house they kept pigs and chickens. One of the sows had just had a bunch of piglets. Cute! On our way out, the woman of the house was making sweets to sell. Sticky rice cake, anyone?Through the village, small children just outside the house greet our group with "hello!" all too eager to use English. It's wild to think that cruising past these walled compounds, we're viewing a neighborhood. Imagine a bike ride through an Atlanta neighborhood, for example. Houses with driveways, trees, shutters, cars, kids playing in the cul-de-sac.
It's the same here, only these houses are decorated with stone work and hand-carved figures, and look more like temples. The main entrance to most homes has steps up to a gate that you pass through, protected on either side by two figures. Mirror images of one another, the figures point their hands in opposing directions. And the figures are almost always covered at the waist with black and white checkered sarongs. Everywhere you look in Bali, this material covers the bottom half of figurines. The material itself represents good and evil, the dark and light forces. But I have yet to discern why the figures are covered at the waist.Another thing to note. Every house has an offering in front.
Made of bamboo, the offerings sweep high into the air and curl back over the street. At the base, out of reach of animals, is a small opening or box in which the family places a daily offering to the gods. Inside on a banana leaf that's been folded into a small tray, you may find a variety of things: flowers, sticky rice, bananas and a stick of incense. I have failed to mention thus far that the majority of people in Bali are Hindu. While the Balinese would never wish for harm, they recognize the balance in the world, the necessity of opposing forces. These offerings are placed outside for the gods of both good and evil. Something placed in the box for both to thank the gods of good and appease the gods of evil. 
And as a matter of fact, I have seen these offerings at every opening or entrance. In front of the door to my room. In front of the door to the hotel. Lining the streets at the doors of businesses, they are everywhere.Riding through Bali on a bicycle is an experience. As many of you may know, I have ridden a bike as a main form of transportation for the last 10 years. On a bike, you are so much more in touch with your surroundings. At peace even. You feel the breeze through your hair. You hear the birds around you, music in the distance. An approaching car? You hear it. You're in it. As is the case here in Bali today. And have I mentioned the land? Rice fields have been carved into the land, terraces of green lined with palms. And the workers in the distance sickles in hand spot the fields. And the colors.
Many of the temples have umbrellas in brilliant shades peaking out over the temple walls. To enter many of the temples, men and women both have a dress code. Men are required to wear a headband, a long shirt and a sarong, the women, a long shirt and sarong, and for both a waist sash. Having none of that, I am contented to peer through small windows of the temples and openings, a peeping Anne.Banyan Tree Bike Tours, owned and operated by our guide for the day Bagi, had it hands full with our group. The youngest kid in our group rode on the back of his father's bike, but his brother kept the tour guides occupied. Told to keep left to avoid traffic, this kid covered the rode, weaving a snake's path through Bali. I think he may have been used to coaster brakes, instead of the hand breaks all our bikes had. Generally speaking, though, most of the guides seemed happy to look after the little renegade. I imagine they have kids and took to him as though he were their own.
We stopped at another compound. The livelihood of this family? Arak. A local moonshine made from palm tree sap, I imagine this family does quite well.
Strong in odor but nowhere near as strong in taste, at roughly 6 US per bottle, it sure beats the local prices for Jack. And if you need to something stronger, like petrol, run by the neighbor's for a quick shot of Absolut? In small villages where there are no official gas stations or pumps, locals refill old liquor bottles with gasoline, a makeshift Shell.Past rice fields and through villages, up our first hill, we passed schoolkids headed home. The girls all had two braids in their hair. And everyone was in a uniform. They spoke in English, asked us questions, and upon response with a question asked of them, they laughed and shied away. I don't know if they understood my questions or were just being coy. Either way, it was fun. Next we stopped at a rice field among several workers to watch the process of harvesting rice.
Growing in stalks that look like wheat, they beat the stalks against wood to free the kernels of rice. As we watched, another worker walked up carrying an eel. Bali apparently has mud eels living among the rice fields. They laughed and said it was lunch. Just down the road, another group of workers were flanked by a woman yelling. I asked Wyan, one of the guides (his name meaning fourth child), why she was yelling, and he indicated that she was cursing Bagi and the tour. According to him, she was angry that he would parade his group of tourists in front of her, none doing anything to help her or give her money. Many of the fields have scarecrows, too, although, they prove scary to crow and human alike.Our tour finished with a bit of off-roading, through the woods, across a river at a lovely house. Bagi's house. His wife greeted us, having prepared an amazing lunch for the group. Balinese eat large amounts of rice and lean more toward vegetarianism. Lunch included spicy tofu, chicken satay, a fish curry, tempeh (who'd have thought?!?), vegetable and rice. Afterward, she offered coffee or tea and small Balinese sweets.
While noshing away, the group got to chat a bit. And as it turns out, Bagi has seen the world, having worked on a cruise ship for a few years. And of all the world, he still chose to return to Bali. I can understand. And after a day like today, I am thankful he did. Not one part of this day has lacked a thing. Brilliant job, Bagi! Thanks to you, your family and crew!
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