Bali: Quest for a Vanishing Culture

One hot April morning of 2012, my husband and I decided to take a wild adventure to the hinterlands of Bali in Indonesia. We were on a quest for a “vanishing culture” that I needed as an entry for a photo club competition. Our Balinese driver, Wayan, suggested we visit his village which was two hours away from the central city of Denpasar. The village was in a remote mountain region where only a few tourists tread. There we met some of the most fascinating people we have ever encountered. It felt like being inside the story “Jungle Book.” It was a surreal experience.




On our way to the village of Alas Pujung, we chanced upon several Balinese women in their traditional garb, balancing heavy load on their steady heads. It appears to be their natural way of life, a far cry from the modern women we see in cities today.



As we reached the village, it felt like stepping back in time. The place felt untouched by civilization. The villagers were still able to preserve much of their ancestor's culture and tradition. We saw women weaving baskets or carving wood. We passed by men preening their fighting cocks.





We sheepishly watched a maiden wash herself in a communal bath.















And passed by menfolks cleaning chicken for ceremonial offering.

We got to meet very interesting people. Many are old folks whose faces caught my photographer's eyes.




Some were children who seemed fascinated seeing themselves in my camera's LCD.



We were introduced to Wayan's parents. The mother seemed very demure while the father was jolly and loquacious. He was so excited to entertain us. He kept gibbering in his native dialect which we, of course, couldn't understand.







We also had the privilege of being invited to a ceremonial preparation. Ceremonies and offerings are normal way of life of Balinese folks. A home was about to be renovated. Hence, prior to construction, the villagers gather together for ceremonial offering. As a sign of welcome, they offered us rice cake and their famous Kintamani coffee.







But the highlight of our journey was meeting an indigenous couple who seemed to be untouched by time. They were barebreasted, just like their ancestors of a forgotten era. We came with five kilos of rice for them which they accepted warmly. They live by themselves in a traditional Balinese home with a temple inside their small courtyard. They gamely allowed me to take photographs of them in their natural environment.



Caught my husband Carlos stealing a shot from behind. A non-photographer, he definitely also enjoyed this photo safari.
We returned to Manila feeling exhilarated from our unique adventure. It was indeed an experience locked in our hearts and mind. Finally, I have found my entry for a "vanishing culture." And as an added bonus, I met some of the most wonderful people this side of the globe. Many thanks to the folks of Alas Pujung, Bali, Indonesia.