Village Days in Bali

On Monday, we packed our bags, piled in the cars, and headed 1.5 hours west into the Tabanan province. Our destination was a rural farming village tucked between multiple subak, or Balinese rice irrigation systems. This was our home for the next 3 days, and many of us were a bit on edge: it was our first time living in a rural setting, and we had no clue what to expect. Little did we know our time in this village would come to be the highlight of our month in Bali. 

After a windy car ride and a long walk along the rice terraces, we were greeted by fresh coconut drinks—our first glimpse into the generosity and next-level hospitality we received from the village residents. A few of us decided to jalan-jalan, or go on a walk, to explore the nearby area. We found a beautiful pathway through the subak, complete with a small creek and a few grazing cows.

That evening, the local musician volunteer group invited us to learn gamelan, the Balinese traditional music. Their patience was much appreciated as we struggled a bit at first to use the unfamiliar instruments, but we got the hang of it eventually. 

In the early morning, I woke up to the sounds of the roosters and pigs in the shed behind my room. The time was 5:05 AM; I was off to see the sunrise with a small crew of fellow early-risers. From the viewpoint, we could see all 3 major mountains on Bali: Mt. Agung, Mt. Batur (which we had climbed back in Week 1!), and Mt. Batukaru.

When I returned, my homestay mother brought me a plate of freshly-prepared Balinese food, along with hot coffee. As I walked from my homestay towards the class center, I was met with countless smiles and greetings (Selamat pagi, or 'good morning' in Indonesian) from locals along the way. The day was filled with activities, starting with making fresh coconut oil (a 5-hour long process!). My favorite part was the garden tour, during which Bu Ary gave us an extensive tour of the countless plants and herbs growing on her property. I was stunned by her knowledge of every single plant's medicinal use simply by looking at it, a skill she said she learned at a young age from her mother. I realized how disconnected we are in the U.S. from the natural world; we aren't taught how to identify local plants, nor do we value generational wisdom the way it's valued in Bali. 

After collecting various plants in the garden, we returned to the program center to make boreh, a Balinese traditional medicine that can be applied to the skin. We also prepared our own sambal by chopping shallots and chilies and made canang sari, the daily Balinese offerings we'd seen on every road throughout the trip. The day ended with yet another gamelan session. 

On our final day in the village, we spent an hour in the rice fields getting our hands dirty to prepare the field for more seed planting, then got the rest of our bodies dirty by racing each other in the mud. We bathed in the refreshing river, played tug-of-war and freeze tag with the village kids, made chicken satay, and sang karaoke. For the final night in the village, we watched two traditional dances: pushpanjali, performed by the village children, and joged bumbung, performed by local dancers and us, the GS-Bali students! We each took turns dancing with the dancer while everyone else cheered us on.

I always thought of myself as a city person, but after spending a few days in Gadung Sari, I'm not so sure. The huge amount of stars visible in the sky at night, the quiet magnificence of the rice terraces, the pristine blue water of the river — these are sights and sensations of calm and restoration unlike any other I've experienced. The village nurtured my inner child, and reminded me that we don't need all the comforts in the world to feel fulfilled. We only need each other, and a good mud race or two.