 |
ANNETTE SOLYST Gallery " A World of Imagination " Start Collecting - click here |
 |
 |
 |
|---|
|
ANNETTE SOLYST Gallery " A World of Imagination " Start Collecting - click here |
|
|
|
|---|
| ANNETTE SOLYST | VOYAGES |
|
|
| Late September brought pictures of fires that had already destroyed a million acres of forest land on Sumatra and Kalimantran. Smoke was covering a wide area of Southeast Asia. Reports of a plane crash and people wearing facemasks flooded my living room via television. Information about the air quality on the islands I was planning to visit -Bali and Java- was spotty and contradictory. As if nature's calamity wasn't enough, a severe currency crisis was battering the Indonesian rupiah. I was willing to deal with the currency - after all, it made my travel budget stretch so much further. The smoke, however, was another story altogether. Finally, with a mere three days until departure, I received "thumbs up" assurances that the air was clear, the sun was shining, and off I went. A grueling 24 hours after leaving Seattle, I arrived in Denpasar/Bali. |
Village |
Temple Dancer |
Terrace |
|
Eight degrees south of the equator, on the 'other' side of the Ring of Fire, I was prepared to enjoy an island renowned for music, dance and communities that had centered activities around Hindu temple ceremonies and rice cultivation for a thousand years. Marco Polo was supposed to have visited in the 13th century, followed by Portuguese seamen and finally the Dutch in the 1500s. Modern tourism was born in the late 60s, and nowadays, Bali seems to be the Australian answer to 'our' Hawaii. Its beaches are popular destinations for honeymooners from Down Under. The international jetset gathers in enclaves of posh resorts and private villas on the South coast. Rock climbers from all over the world come to Bali to scale the volcanoes. Package tourists descend on Kuta and New Agers and the artsy travelers resonate to the vibrations of Ubud, the cultural center of the island.
What can be enjoyed daily anywhere on the island are traditional music and dance performances. Legong, Topping and Bari dances are a combination of dance and drama; stories told with exacting movements of body, hands and eyes. These are accompanied by vivacious, rythmic Gamelan music. |
Temple Dancer |
Ducks in Ricefield |
Elders |
A most moving (if not disturbing) experience is the Sanghyan trance dance, also known as Fire Dance. A Sanghyan is a divine spirit that is said to temporarily inhabit the entranced dancers. In this dance, a group of 100 men gather in a circle to form a choir of repetitive chanting, a so-called "Kecak". Rythmic movements of the body accompany the steady, fast pace of the chanting. During the first hour of the dance, colorfully clad dancers act out segments of the Indian epic Ramayana. This is followed by another segment, in which two entranced young girls sway in a version of the Legong. Since ancient times, this part is believed to assure the health and wellbeing of the village and is supposed to drive evil spirits away. The final, and by all means most moving part of the ritual is the Sanghyan Jaran Dance. Here, an entranced man on "hobby horse" dances around a tall pyre of brightly burning coconut husks. He wears only a sarong. After a few minutes, the divine spirit believed to inhabit the man leads him right into the fire. Suddenly, he leaps into the flames, making the burning husks fly all over. He then proceeds to stomp onto the husks with bare feet. Helpers rake up the burning husks several times, forming a red-hot pile. The entranced man will not stop stepping onto the fire until he has completely stomped it out. Toward the end, his movements become erratic - it seems obvious that he is completely unaware of his surroundings. Care is taken to control the magical forces by helpers, who tackle the dancer to the ground at this point and bring him out of his trance.
Now you see him sitting on the ground, feet and legs blackened up to his knees, yet without any signs of physical injury or pain. He seems dazed, just coming to. He is given a bottle of water, drinks, and then sits alone. Strangely, not one member of the hundred men Kecak approaches him at this time. They all quietly file out the back of the temple while the fire dancer remains seated on the ground. You could hear a pin drop - the forces at play witnessed by the spectators create a visceral reaction that defies logical explanation.
One questions at least this visitor to Bali had was "What is it with all these dogs?" Bali is over-populated by Man's Best Friend. So much so, that walking down any of the narrow lanes at any time of day meant being greeted by dogs running out, barking and more often than not, chasing people. Even beaches aren't off limits, and getting from the beaches to the gated sanctuary of the many beach bungalow hotels meant more encounters with dogs guarding their territory. Things can get really hairy after dark when the dogs start congregating, ready to rule the streets. Who knows: do dogs represent the Balinese alter ego riled by the influx of all too many tourists?
|
