August 3, 2025
At 5 AM, in the dark, I hopped on the back of Toto’s scooter, and we took off to the village of Bungaya, Bali to watch the morning market unfold. When we got there, men and women were arriving on motorcycles and on foot, heads stacked high with goods to sell. As I watched the morning transactions, I was the only tourist in sight.
In the afternoon, I hired a driver to take me to Sidemen, where I’d booked four nights at Subak Tabola Villa. On the drive there, I got a text from Surya, one of the organizers and guides for our upcoming Bali tour. It’s Surya who will be taking us to the healers we visit, to the sacred ceremonies, and to get blessed by the high priest. Surya wrote to let me know that a cremation was happening in Sidemen on the day of my arrival. He was thinking of coming from Denpasar and maybe we could meet.
For those of you who haven’t been to Bali, cremations are considered a cause of celebration because the spirit can’t be freed for reincarnation until the body is burned and the remains are returned to the sea. Cremations are not sad and somber affairs; they are public events; people dress in bright colors, there is live gamelan music and a joyous ceremonial procession to the cremation grounds. The Balinese believe the more people that accompany the spirit on its journey, the better, so tourists are welcome to watch the procession and join in, as long as we dress respectfully in proper attire, which means wearing a sarong and a temple scarf, something I always carry with me in Bali. These special clothes must be worn any time you enter a temple or receive a blessing from a priest—something we will be doing on multiple occasions as a group starting next week.
In the end, Surya couldn’t make it, but I still wanted to go to the cremation. It’s an honor to attend and a real immersion in Balinese ritual life. When I reached my new hotel, I asked about attending the cremation (probably not a request they get from guests very often) and they let me know that the public part of the procession would be happening tomorrow, and that if I stood on the road in the village at 11:30, I’d see it go by.
As part of my orientation to my new hotel, I had my feet bathed in flowers, and was given a foot massage with salt and lime. And I was pleasantly surprised by the luxuries in my hotel room, especially that black and white day bed, where I’m sitting right now, listening to thousands of birds and geckos, dogs and roosters.
This is the view from the dining room. It looks out on Mount Agung, Bali’s highest volcano.
As I settled in at my new place, and went on an afternoon rice field walk, I kept getting updates from Joanie. She was putting the final touches on her packing and getting ready to depart for the Hilo airport for the first leg of her journey: visiting her new baby grandson. Hopefully her rushed “one-day that’s really three or four days” passport will arrive in time for her Wednesday flight to Bali. My fingers and toes are crossed. Cross yours, too.