BALI BIZARRE

Back in June we had a mysterious invasion of strangers. Phil and I were having a leisurely breakfast when we heard a car pull up. Thinking it was someone delivering materials for the construction next door, we did not pay attention. Our parking area is often used for turning the trucks around. But this time we hear a car stop and park. We’re not expecting any visitors, so who can it be? Curious, we walk to the front and see a rickety old van carrying a bunch of people. The doors open and nine people pour out of the car. Talking loudly among themselves they stride toward us as if we had invited them over for a party. Yes, nine of them, dressed alike in crisp blue and black-patterned rayon shirts over black skirts or pants. The women in high heels. Phil and I are puzzled. We don’t know any of them. Who the hell are they and what are they doing here? They’re gathered in the entrance, darkening the lobby. They carry official-looking folders and speak to us simultaneously in rapid Indonesian of which I can only derive that they are from some government office in the Gianyar region and that it involves some kind of permit. Nobody speaks English and no, they did not come to the wrong address. Hmm, nine people from the same office drive 30 minutes to our villa to okay a permit? A permit for what? They don’t say. We’re completely flummoxed. I’m beginning to feel beleaguered. I remind myself that when it comes to dealing with the government I better play nice. I should offer them something. How about some water? They decline. I insist. No, no, they brought their own water. Juice? Cookies? No juice or cookies either. Okay then, no bribing them with sweets. We’re at an impasse. Nobody can tell us what the permit is for and we don’t understand why they’re here. Two of the men give up and go outside for a smoke. The others circle around and hold a conference. Reaching a decision they open their folders and start filling out their documents. Watching them is a funny Alice-in-Wonderland kind of feeling. What are they writing? What are we being approved or not approved for? This is crazy. I make one more stab at understanding what is going on and ask if they need to see the villa, walk through the property. Do they need to know how many bedrooms we have? Or check out the kitchen facilities? No, no need. They continue filling out their mysterious forms. When they’re finally finished they take their leave. The two men outside squish out their cigarettes and all nine of them fold themselves back into the sardine can of a van and wave goodbye. Phil and I just look at each other. What was that about? Until now we have no idea.

THE BALINESE CALENDAR

If you want to know why living in Bali can be so confusing, consider this explanation of the Balinese calendar system:

The 210-day pawukon calendar provides the reference system for most of the religious ceremonies in Bali: market days, personal anniversaries, and the good or bad days for doing special tasks. A single 210 day cycle since no record is kept of successive cycles nor the numbed. They just pass by. During the 210 day can then weeks each of a different length, run there is a week that is only one day long, one that has two days, one that has that long, and so on up to the longest 10-day week. Each of the 10 different length weeks has a Sanskrit - derived Balinese name based upon the number of days that it contains. Thus Triware is the 3-day week and Saptaware is exactly like 7 days week. And each separate day of each of the ten different weeks has its own name, making a total of 1+2+3…10-55 separate weekday names. Actually, however, the one-day week does not have the same name every day. On some days it has no name at all. (From: www.darmabali.com/.../Balinese-calender.html)