VIA Video - A Day in the Life

VIA asked us to make a video with the theme of "A Day in the Life", so I've been spending the last week filming and trying to figure out how to use iMovie. Yesterday, Hayu and I schemed up a plan to video tape me on a becak near the Kraton (Sultan's Palace). It turned out pretty well, though I'm definitely not movie-star material! I can't stop smiling and laughing.

Last night, I finally finished editing!

The Rest: Bali

Bali is one of those places that people will be talking about forever. As one of the most popular tourist destinations, it's been referred to by many as the epitome of a paradise island -- a place with pristine beaches, beautiful dancers, and exotic food. People come from near and far to get married on this island, and for some, experiencing the night life in Kuta with the beach as your backyard is worthy of many photo sessions. Other people might come to Bali in search of peace and spirituality. With a strong history of Hinduism, combined with local traditions and meditation practices, there are outlets for these seekers.

It's no doubt that tourism plays up the natural beauty and culture of Bali to an enormous extent, way more than the other islands of Indonesia. You'd think that with all the success of tourism, the island would be flourishing.

But what they don't tell you is that up in the mountains, there are still outrageously poor communities who suffer from lack of resources and lack of governmental recognition. There are communities who do not have proper roads and waste management, who are unemployed, and who when sick do not receive adequate treatment for their illnesses. Child mortality is high but deaths often go unreported. If children want to go to school, they have to travel far distances to get there.

It's in one of those communities in northeast Bali, far from the throngs of tourists, that I spent most of my time during my short visit. In a village called Muntigunung, YDD is working with a Swiss foundation, Future for Children, to help secure this community with some basic human needs, such as access to water and sanitation, through the construction of rain catchments and toilets. Beyond the basic needs, another goal is to develop livelihood projects, working with the villagers to secure a regular source of income through the processing, packaging, and sale of cashew nuts, dried mango, rosella tea, salts, and handicraft products, such as hammocks.

Working for this livelihood project, known as Muntigunung Social Enterprise, is my VIA friend Toku's primary work responsibility. He has become a marketing focal and helps to secure sales agreements with hotels, cafes, and grocery stories around Bali.

Before I sleep and leave you with photos, there's one more thing I want to emphasize. The place is just jaw-droppingly gorgeous. It's up in the mountains, with trees everywhere, steep dirt trails… and resting quietly are small clusters of houses. From almost anywhere you can look out and see the dark blue horizon of ocean.

Women from the village weaving hammocks to be sold abroad in Switzerland

Each time we visited a house, we were invited to sit for a while.

a rain catchment under construction

a dirt path up the mountain slope

a beautiful view from one of the village kelompok

a view from a village house

this little boy played with this spider for a very long time...

at the beach near Muntigunung, these kids are gambling with cigarettes

me with YDD-Muntigunung employee, Mbak Endang

Toku, me, and friends from the sanitation program

Muntigunung Social Enterprise employees, peeling the skin off cashews

peeled cashews in a solar dryer shed

a rain catchment under construction

a garden pilot in one of the kelompok of Muntigunung

Day 8-9: From Flores To Bali

As we approached the plane on foot at Maumere's tiny airport, I turned to Pak Kam with a grin and said, "Saya bawa alpukat, Pak, lima buah!" (I brought avocados, sir, five of them!) On the road back from Laratuka, I had made Pak Mat stop by a small market so I could buy some avocados for Bali. They were 10,000 Rp for five, that is, a little less than a dollar.

He laughed and replied, "Saya juga! Tas ini, isinya alpukat! Berat, soalnya..." (Me too! This bag here is filled with avocado. Problem is, it's heavy...)  I took a look at his backpack. It could easily be carrying about 20 pieces of fruit. "Bagus, bagus!"(Good, good!) I said, laughing also.

We'd just spent the last hour in the airport talking in depth about the sanitation program in Flores. Guy knows his stuff, and has a particular interest in ensuring that local people have the means to achieve their needs after the program is over. "If the workshop gets at least 50% of these tukang to begin making and selling toilets locally, we'll consider it a success."

Out of all the bapak-bapak I met this past week, Pak Kam is one of my favorites. He's about 70 years old, wears a kopiah wherever he goes, and smiles with laughter and wrinkles in his eyes.

* * *

And then I'm in Bali, riding in the back bed of a pickup truck with my friend Toku, watching an eve-of-Nyepi procession pass by on a narrow road. There are old and young walking together, crowding the area for several hundred meters. Some people are singing and cheering, carrying banners for their community, and others are waving batons of fire. Each group lifts a bamboo platform with an ogoh-ogoh statue in the center, representing a unique evil spirit. The fanciest and most expensive are decorated with lights and jewels, symbolizing their hedonistic personalities. 

The community will soon destroy these figures by dismemberment or by setting them on fire. Because of this, there's excitement in the air. The children are happy, and the adults are likely drunk. It's a parade, except this is unlike any parade I've ever been to. Eve-of-Nyepi is an island-wide party -- the storm before a full day of quiet reflection. On the day of Nyepi, food, fire, work, and electricity are all forbidden. The streets will be empty in a few hours.

When we finally pass the crowded streets, everything becomes dark except for the cars and motorbikes. Our truck's headlights illuminate the windy road and the jungle we are passing through. The crisp mountain air takes over my senses. Ari slows down a bit, allowing other vehicles to pass so that Toku and I can soak it in. We stand there, holding on to the roof of the truck as the trees whip by on the narrow road. I tilt my head back and look up. Above us, the stars are vibrant.