THE WEEKENDER IN THE RICE FIELDS.
One of the luckiest things to happen to us in Bali was an early morning meeting with a sleek, shining, jet black Dachshund as she came up from the beach with a bright yellow tennis ball in her mouth and a self-satisfied smile across her face. The gyrations of her backside would amaze any of the bevy of Hollywood starlets who vie for attention in films and magazines across the world. She oozed confidence and self satisfaction. She introduced herself as Mimi and then, casually, introduced me to her owner who confessed that the tennis ball was stolen on the beach and that this was a more or less regular occurrence.
Mimi, it seemed, had a fetish for balls or stones or anything else she could carry in her mouth that she thought someone would throw for her. The wild dogs on the beach, of whatever size, had learnt to avoid her when she was on the chase because she was totally single minded, absolutely fearless and never quit. If you are a user of the beaches anywhere from Canggu to Kuta and you've lost a tennis ball or cricket ball or a sort-of-round stone I can suggest where you might find it.
Years later she still has the fetish and, if anything, it has grown more intense.
Mimi lived in a high villa nestled behind tall stone walls with huge double, carved timber gates that had interested me each time I passed it on my way to the beach. With her lived a retired Banker and English Gentleman and gentle man, his beautiful Balinese wife, enchanting young daughter, very shy nanny and a visiting cat which Mimi had failed to catch and which was now tolerated as long as it stayed above ground level.
In a rare moment of good sense we accepted an invitation to visit and have since enjoyed many days in this haven of tranquillity and hospitality. The retired banker was and is happy to pass on his advice and insights into Balinese life, culture, religion and the countryside; an open source of information for me that has continued through the gift of numerous books which he hunts down and which I treasure. An additional gift to us was a willingness to support our endeavours in Bali by becoming our ‘Bali Banker', dishing out that advice and wisdom when we were there and money on our behalf when we were not. This generosity with his time has eased our way on many occasions and is something that I guard jealously.
Things change, however, and one of the changes that I do not find welcome is a recent development on the nearby beach, apparently in disregard of planning laws and neighbours' rights, which has destroyed the ambience of the locality. Perhaps not entirely by coincidence, our friend has recently undertaken the construction of ‘weekend retreat' halfway up the slopes of Mount Batu Karu, which is almost exactly in the centre of the island of Bali, and far from the maddening crowds.
Like the original villa the new one is locally designed, this time by a young and really unknown architect. Like the original it is different without being outlandish or kitsch but with many fitments and materials out-sourced to ensure quality and to introduce current systems to the local industry.
It was with a slight smile of satisfaction that he revealed his planning approvals and initial constructions had just preceded new regulations intended to at least slow, if not prohibit, the loss of agricultural land to buildings and infrastructure. If these regulations succeed then his will be a lonely retreat and, almost as an aside, the magic of the unspoiled island that many tourists come to see and enjoy might be preserved in spite of those so-called developers who are intent on killing this part of the industry with their twisted version of ‘enhancement' to serve the client.
I think he is quite happy that the ‘motocross' track to and past the property may never be bitumenised and the similar track to his favourite restaurant, in the middle of more rice fields across a couple of mountain ridges, will likewise remain a slow road to be savoured by a few rather than a journey to be rushed over and unseen by the many.
First photo here on the web site.
A carved wall at the side entrance leads to the quarters used by the housekeeper and the night watchman.
I was interested to see another carving in progress, simple steel chisels carving curling shavings off the soft stone that will slowly harden now that it is exposed to the air.
If my memory of the history of Balinese art is accurate this carving is done in the style of the Batuan School of artists and its minute details depict the events of one day in the life of the local village. A series of these paintings forms a sort of visual diary of the village's and villagers' history.
Second photo here on the web site.
Oiled decking crosses the ponds that guard the front entry.
The native forest in the background borders extensive, terraced rice paddies.
There are more photos and some more small parts of the story at the link below if you're interested.