My Day with Wayan and Ketut

So the day had finally arrived, I was going on my guided tour around the island of Bali. I had wanted to do this for some time now but was never quite sure whom I wanted to take me on this excursion. That was, until I met Wayan, the guy I met at the restaurant the other night.

Wayan seemed very knowledgeable about the culture and history of the island. He also was a very likeable person. It seemed like an obvious choice. The price was right and I was ready.

I left my place around 9:00 am to meet Wayan and Ketut. Ketut was going to be our driver for the day. He was a very nice gentleman who spoke very little English.

First I’ll give you a little background information I found out about Wayan and Ketut. Wayan was twenty-nine, married and had a one year old son. Ketut was in his mid thirties, married and had two children. Both Wayan and Ketut lived at home with their whole family. That included grandparents, parents, brothers, sisters and their spouses and children.

This is how most Balinese live. Your parents take care of you when you are young and you return the favor by taking care of them when they are old. There are no nursing homes.

Wayan told me that Ketut lived a hard life. His parents were very old and neither of them could walk. They required a lot of special attention. He also worked two jobs and had a wife that didn’t do anything. Wayan told me he was fortunate to have two younger, healthier parents and a good wife.

Another thing that interested me was the fact that divorce is almost non-existent in Bali. According to Wayan, you just make things work.

Now that you got the lowdown on my traveling companions, I will tell you about my day trip across Bali.

We started the day by going to a local village and watching men and women carve brilliant masterpieces from a chunk of wood. It was amazing. I was told that the woodcarvers start at as an apprentice at the age of fourteen and get trained by a master woodcarver aged sixty and above. It is a trade that is passed down from generation to generation.

I was also informed that all the carvings were made in the small villages around Ubud. They were then shipped to Ubud to be sold in the fancy shops for top dollar.

After watching the woodcarvers, we hopped back in the hired jeep and headed to our first temple. ‘Elephant Temple’ was the English translation of it or at least that’s what everyone was calling it.

As we arrived, I envisioning a large, ancient, enclosed temple that bore the scars of its many years of existence. My assumptions were quite wrong, as I would soon find out.

Before entering any sacred place, you must be covered in traditional garb. Wayan grabbed me a sarong, a simple sheet that is worn around your waist to cover your legs. Sarongs come in all shapes, colors and sizes and have many useful purposes which both men and women take advantage of as part of the Balinese culture.

With my newly draped sarong, I bounced down the stairs to see the huge towering temple I had been envisioning. At that moment, I realized that there wasn’t much left of the temple and it was completely outdoors. A few pillars stood here and there, with rice paddy fields surrounding.

The central focus of the temple area was three small fountains that people gathered holy water from for religious ceremonies.

The highlight of the temple experience came while we were leaving. A heavily tattooed man with an enormous boa constrictor was standing at the front gate. Having never touched a snake before, I asked the man if I could give it a go. He obliged and took it one step further by letting me drape myself with it.

The reptile was extremely heavy and you could feel how powerful the beast was. I was having a tough time keeping control over it. I held it for a while and then had Wayan take a photo of me wrangling this gigantic serpent.

After the Elephant Temple, we went and saw two more temples. They looked pretty much the same minus the tourists and people selling stuff. I took some more pictures, admired what I was looking at and we hopped into to the Jeep and headed for our next destination, Mt. Batur.

I was really looking forward to seeing Mt. Batur because, from the postcards I’d seen around Ubud, it looked peaceful, rugged and beautiful.

After an hour or so of driving uphill, we finally arrived. You could tell we were at a higher elevation because of the cooling air. It was a welcome relief. Most people were wearing coats or long-sleeved shirts to stay warm but my body wasn’t cold, it just stopped sweating. It was a wonderful feeling to feel dry again.

It was a magnificent scene I was looking out at. It was just like the postcards had portrayed. To the left was a large, towering volcano and to its right was a calm, pristine lake. It looked as though I was looking at a painting. The scene was perfect. There was a little bit of haze in the air from the clouds, but not enough to ruin this glorious sight.

We stayed there for a couple of hours and ate and looked at everything that was around us. It was a very peaceful place given that there were so many people there. This had made the trip for me. I love picturesque scenes that look like they were taken from a fairy tale.

After the time felt right, we left Mt. Batur and all of its beauty behind. Not to mention the nice, refreshing cool air. Boy did I miss that. We headed back towards Ubud. We took a different route this time so I could see other sights along the way.

One particular sight was a rice field. This rice field was lush, green and looked like it had just jumped from the canvas to the grounds below me. It was perfect. The fields were glowing. They were perfectly terraced, stretching as far as the eye could see. There was a fine mist in the air with the sun creeping through creating a mystical look to the whole scene. What a sight it was.

We stopped at a few more places on our way back to town. We arrived back into Ubud just as the sun was about to set. It had been the perfect day full of history and beauty. I thanked my guides and went inside to anxiously look at the photos I had just taken.