Bali, Cambodia, and Thailand: September 11, 2009

All material including photographs are ©2009 Ronald Dunlap / Doglight Studios

Back at the hotel, we’d been forewarned that we’d have to be properly attired to take part in the ceremony. I’d gone to my room, traded my pants for shorts, took off my Timberlands and put on flip-flops, so I could be wrapped in an unflattering but proper green sarong and matching gold belt. We weren’t the only guests going, so I hung back and brought up the rear of our procession as we made our way to the village. I hadn’t realized just how hard it would be to walk uphill without stepping on my skirt. We finally made it to the clearing where the cremation was to take place, my sarong barely still wrapped around me. The area was sectioned off into four parts representing the four castes (Sudras - peasants, which are the majority of the people; Wesian - the merchant class; Satrias - the warrior class; Brahmans - priests and holy men) of Balinese society.

When a member of the village dies, he or she is buried in the local cemetery for a period of 3 to 5 years, depending on how fast the cemetery fills up. Then the village as a group organizes a ceremony to relieve the land of its human burden, cremate the remains and spread the ashes in the ocean. It begins with each caste carrying in a large wood and papier mache effigy, in this case a black calf. The interior is hollow to accept the human remains and the grave goods that are being sent with the deceased to the afterlife. The male members of the family carry the human remains wrapped in a cloth bundle, while the women bring the funerary gifts in brightly colored wrappings. They assemble around the effigy and carefully fill the interior with their loved ones and gifts that they hope will speed them on their way. A priest or bishop comes and gives the invocation and his blessings for the deceased, then fire is used to help lift them toward the heavens.

I don’t want to be an overbearing guest or “imperialistic photographer,” and it's hard to guess the rules of what’s acceptable and what is offensively intrusive. I try to tread as lightly as possible, but it is hard to overcome my enthusiasm to capture as many visuals as possible.

The island of Bali is part of the nation of Indonesia, which has decreed that “sharia” (Islamic law) will be enforced in Bali in the next few years. (Opinion: The lace dresses that you see the women wearing will be outlawed next year. This and other changes that are sure to come will, I believe, change the character of Bali and its ability to draw tourists to its shores. Bali is 90% Hindu, while Indonesia is 90% Muslim. They have coexisted for a long time and the government should let the status quo stand before they cut the throat of the cash cow that helps keep their country afloat.)

We shot for about three hours, getting back to our rooms about 2:30. It had been a beautiful day, a little overcast, so I had to shoot everything wide open, but I was hoping I got a few good shots out of the 12 GB's worth of images I had taken. We decided we’d change and have a quick lunch and then spend the rest of the day in Ubud. ( Cuisine Tip: I have found that in Southeast Asia, I could have Spaghetti Bolognese anywhere, for lunch and dinner, it is always delicious and I’ve never gotten ill using this strategy. Then again, I am one of those people who can eat the same thing again and again without getting tired of it, so take this tip with a grain of salt.) We engaged Dewa and a van for the afternoon, it takes about 20 minutes to get to town and another 15 minutes to make our way through the local traffic jam to the money changer. I was changing $100 (new bill, no tears or marks) into Indonesian Rupiah, roughly a little less than 10,000 Rupiah per dollar. I made the exchange, got my receipt and barely make it across the street without getting sideswiped. The traffic heading back into town was miserable. Dewa suggested that we visit Pura Bukit Dharma Kutri, the local temple. Ann mentioned that she’d like to stop somewhere on the way and purchase a sarong so that she’d have her own the next time we needed one. There was a small working-class strip mall not far away that the driver knew, and we stopped to see what they had to offer. It took about 15 minutes to find, bargain for and purchase a couple of sarongs and a few miscellaneous pieces. (Almost every purchase in Bali involves bargaining. You ask how much?, they say a price, you offer half of that, then in the end you meet somewhere in the middle. This way of buyingstuff can get a little tiresome, but don’t lose your temper, and keep smiling.)

Pura Bukit Dharma Kutri is made up of ground-level temples and a hilltop shrine. We got there near closing so we had the temple to ourselves with the exception of an ancient nun and her little white dog. The sun was setting and we had to hurry to grab a few shot before it was totally dark. Most of the temples are built in a very similar manner, it’s very difficult to tell one from another, so after awhile I wouldn’t shoot that many frames because all my pictures were look alike. The stairs up to the shrine were closed so we weren’t able to view the statue of Durga, the six-armed goddess of death and destruction. I guess they just didn’t want us climbing at night.

After a fast stop at the western-style market -- a little larger and better stocked than your normal 7-11 in the United States -- for cokes and snacks we were back at the hotel by 7, another helping of spaghetti washed down with a diet coke at 8 and into bed by 10. Golden time comes early.

Bali, Cambodia, and Thailand: September 10-11, 2009

All material including photographs are ©2009 Ronald Dunlap / Doglight Studios

Finally arrived in Bali 34 hours after leaving Los Angeles. 10 hours, L.A. to Tokyo, a 2 hour layover, then 7.5 hours to Singapore where we had a very tuff 12 hour layover and finally 2.5 hours from Singapore to Denpasar. We flew Singapore Air. Coach was a bit cramped, but the wait staff was terrific, none of the underling hostility that seems to permeate the U.S.A. carriers these days.

(TRAVEL TIP: we landed at Singapore’s Changi International terminal 2, if we’d known the airport better, we would have taken the Skytrain to terminal 3 where the shops are open from 6am to 1am, plus a lot of the food sellers are open 24/7. This is one of the great airports of the world, very much like a giant mid-western mall, with almost anything you could want, from a free 24 hour movie theatre, TV lounges, massage, every kind of restaurant you can imagine, even a Burger King, take advantage of it.)

After deplaning at Ngurah Rai International Airport, purchasing a 30 day tourist visa ($25 U.S. dollars), claiming our bags and walking out into the muggy Balinese morning, we came face to face with 25 or 30 hopeful hotel drivers, all waving signs and looking to claim their incoming guests. Dewa was there with a sign from Alam Sari Keliki, my name emblazoned on it. In his early 30’s, he turned out to be very much in tune with the soul of Bali and was instrumental in our understanding of their attitude towards life.

The van moved north through Denpasar (pop. around 500,000) to Ubud, the artistic heart and soul of Bali. A small town of about 10,000, it is becoming one of the island's major tourist destinations. Alam Sari Keliki hotel was 17 km north of Ubud, a wonderful place to relax and enjoy the landscape. I had reserved a “Family Suite,” which was two connecting rooms with two private outdoor baths. The room ran $110 per night so it broke down to $55 per room, including a light breakfast. If you wanted eggs, toast, and a diet coke that was extra. The only drawback is the road that runs past, which always seems to be infested by high-pitched motorbikes. It’s mostly quiet at night, but the island residents start to head out to work around 5am, so I found sleeping in sometimes a little hard, but then again you’re in Bali and really don’t need to sleep while you are here.

I was traveling with Ann Marsden, a photographer from St. Paul, Minnesota. We’d never met before connecting at LAX. I’d been looking for someone to travel with and through a mutual friend we came into contact through email and made all the arrangements. So here we were on Bali looking to capture some great images or at least passable ones.

I seem to be immune to jet-lag, as long as I fly towards the west and that was the case when I got up on the 11th. Showered, waxed my mustache, dressed, and knocked on Ann’s door. She was ready to roll, so with camera gear in hand we walked past the glorious pool to the dinning room. After a breakfast of fruit and hot chocolate, it was time to discover what the local neighborhood had to offer. We had two and a half hours of shooting before we had to be back to attend the local village’s cremation ceremony that we’d just been invited to.

Rice is the life’s blood of the island. Even as tourism is beginning to make inroads, rice is still what nourishes the spirit of the island.

Outside the hotel we turned south and began trudging up the hill, shooting anything and everything that looked remotely interesting. Near the top we spied a small path off to the left leading into the fields. With a little trepidation, and hoping we weren’t breaking some local custom, we walked onto the trail and into a Balinese paradise, one incredible vista after another. The fields are divided into family plots and each plot has it own shrine in which offerings are placed daily to persuade the local spirits to provide a healthy and bountiful crop. The shrines themselves add a beauty and ambiance that enhance the fairyland-like quality of the area. We planned to walk for an hour and then retrace our steps so we wouldn’t be late for the ceremonies. We encountered several farmers on our trek, all smiling and waving as we balanced our way along the high ground between the paddies. Near the end of our walk we encountered a very lovely, petite lady of many years who smiled and waved. She was taking a cold bottle of water out to her husband who was working in the fields. She graciously consented to be photographed and was more than pleased when I paid her a small stipend for her participation, as is my practice.

Travels with RGD and Other Tales of Doglight and the Anubis Quest

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