Having engaged the services of a driver for the day (far more economical, it appears, than making several short journeys), we planned to wind our way home via a few stops.
Our first port of call was Pura Ulun Danu - a temple on Lake Beratan. This is a pura tirta, a water temple that regulates the use of irrigation water to the surrounding rice fields through the timing of ceremonies.
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| Pura Ulun Danu |
During our visit, a procession of men and women arrived, carrying penjor, parasols, and what appeared to be a yellow and white empty throne, presumably to the same deity Sang Hyang Widhi Wasa to which the many other thrones across Bali are dedicated.
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| Procession at Ulun Danu |
The procession made its way down to the water's edge where the offerings were laid out, which, to my understanding, are made to Dewi Danu - the goddess of the lake.
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| Ceremony at Lake Beratan |
Apparently, according to the PBS documentary, "The Three Worlds of Bali", the farmers abandoned the tried-and-tested temple-driven orchestration of irrigation in favour of watering their crops as quickly as they could grow and harvest them. It was a disaster, using up the irrigation water too quickly and leaving some fields dry and others infested with rats. They returned to the traditional, sustainable approach.
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| Jatiluwih rice terraces |
We made our way from Lake Beratan down some windy, bumpy roads to Jatiluwih. This place is famed for its picturesque rice terraces. While terraced rice farming occurs all over Bali, the fields here are protected and designated a UNESCO Cultural Landscape. A stroll through the green steps in the clear air and peaceful countryside was a tonic. Mt. Batur and Mt. Agung were shrouded in cloud in the distance. This scene has not changed significantly for centuries, and thanks to the protection order will not be marred by development in the future.
The next visit was to a place that embodies the environmental awareness and harmony with nature that has typified Balinese culture, but which risks being lost to modern building materials, consumerism, and a time-pressured way of life.
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| Heart of Green School |
At Green School, founder John Hardy has created an architecture, an environment, and a method of learning that aims to create ethically conscious people. Students graduating from the school will have learned the skill of thinking sustainably - not just for themselves (no middle-age burnout for them), but also for the wider world.
Trained as a jeweller, John Hardy brought his design skills to bear on the architecture of the school, eschewing a traditional box-like structure. The heart of the school, where all the pupils meet and have lunch is a double helix design entirely constructed from bamboo. Every classroom has open walls, meaning that we were greeted by the sound of jazz floating out of the music 'room'.
More important than the architecture is the ethos and teaching. Leading by its principles, the school focuses on recycling, composting, vegetarianism, and green energy from its hydroelectric 'vortex' and solar panels. The children rush to follow this example, and we were greeted by a self-led body of students whose aim is to rid Bali of plastic bags. Until they succeed (I'm sure they will), the junk (non-reusable) plastic is collected, melted and turned into shipping palettes by a local company. The school even has an animal conservation program, breeding and releasing the rare and endangered Bali starling on its campus. Far more than dry text books does this give the children a tangible handle on their effect on the ecosystem.
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| Chair made from recycled tyres |
We lunched at the school's Living Food Lab, where every dish is not only vegetarian or vegan but often raw. Having earlier declined an expensive tourist trap for lunch that our driver dropped us at, we were glad of the opportunity to sample an 'Avo BLT', with aubergine 'bacon', tahini 'cheese', 'rawmesan', sandwiched between two chewy onion crackers. I wonder whether the students appreciate this food or just want chips.
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| Avocado BLT |
While using internationally recognised curricula, the teaching is grouped not by subject but by thematic units. These crosscutting themes bring together important skills in a way that is interesting and more rounded than the typical focus of lessons on intellectual rote learning or on single-skill problem solving. Green School teaches creative problem solving, using not only the pupils' intellectual capabilities but also their emotional, spiritual and physical (kinesthetic) capacity. It recognises that each individual is different and responds emotionally. The students aren't patronised or admonished. They are given real responsibilities - the children built a pizza oven that now serves the canteen - and respond accordingly. The paths are made from sharp cobbles and nobody falls and scrapes their knees. The students practise a Brazilian-Balinese martial art in mud pit, known as Mepantigan, and love it.
There must be something in the method, as the faces of the children we saw were full of laughter and happiness. Nobody was dragging their feet, picking on or pushing other children. In fact, we were told that bullying is not an issue. One could point to the small numbers for an answer to the quality of the education; there are 420 pupils in the school. While the school is international, teaching both in Bahasar and English, at least 20% of the student body is Balinese, many on scholarships. With so many international students, one would expect most of them to board at the school. In fact, there are only ten boarders, while the other pupils' families have moved to Bali on the strength of the education their children will received here. That is an impressive commitment to the future.
Back in Denpasar, we went out to our usual vegetarian haunt, Looi Bazaar, where we always seem to be the only customers.
While K sampled the veggie soto ayam, I went for siobak singaraja. Siobak means pork belly, while Singaraja is a town in Bali, so I presume this is a reference to a style.
It arrived as a bowl of slightly sweet, thick, dark sauce hiding morsels of fake meat of various textures, chewy and crunchy. It reminded me a great deal of the loh mee we ate in Penang. I threw in the contents of a small dish of slice green bird eye chillies, which helped complement the sweetness. It was no bakso or soto, but tasty enough.
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