Volume One: Paradise...!: from East to West

Baby-Sister

PREFACE

Reading and writing I started doing with a passion even before my teenage years. For decades I walked and drove around, traveled intensively world-wide by plane, ship and train on DEAR WORLD, with always in the back of my head the idea of writing the story of my rather tumultuous life. In it I wanted to intricately weave into a literary stream-of-consciousness frame my strong likes and interests, especially in the Arts –music, theater, films-, in travel, in languages as well as in current affairs. In all fairness I even had plans to include a few distinct aversions. After having only thought about it for the greater part of my life, most of the year 2007 I spent seriously reminiscing, doing a lot of reliving in my mind and consequently jotting down a multitude of notes. At 7 PM local time, on February 2, 2008, I sat down at my home-computer and finally started ... writing!

My first seventeen years on DEAR WORLD I spent mainly in the Dutch East Indies (Nederlandsch Oost-Indie)/Indonesia, growing up in the city chronologically called Batavia/Djakarta/Jakarta. Upon completion of the rigid set of final exams at the end of my high school education in the Netherlands, I joined my family in the United States of America. After my totally self-financed intense universities’ studies and professional careers in the Boston, MA area –first in education, then in the travel industry-, I opted to return to part of my roots. Ageism, my increasing abhorrence of the often brutal winters in New-England, and also what was sadly happening to the good U.S. of A since the turn of the century, definitely helped me with this decision.

My narrative non-fiction is obviously in the English language. However, several other languages do also play an important role in this work of cultural crossovers, a logical result of my colorful background.

With my two volumes I also very much intend to call attention to the looming plight of the mainly unsuspecting Balinese. In six short years I have disturbingly witnessed a decline in the unique culture of Bali, my host island. Especially in the overflowing tourist centers in the South there is a strong influx of migrants from the many other islands in this archipelago. I am truly apprehensive, that way, way before the end of the current century there will not be a Hindu Bali, at least not the way we know it today. Having just recently reread again one of my favorite works in world literature, the 1935 Vicki Baum German novel LIEBE UND TOD AUF BALI (literal translation LOVE AND DEATH ON BALI; the official English title is the far less romantic A TALE OF BALI), I continue to be quite shocked at the big differences. Progress is, of course, good, but not when it has a detrimental effect.

Wikipedia has helped and is still helping me enormously in my work. I could not possibly picture myself surrounded daily by hundreds and hundreds of books. It is bad enough to have to deal with thousands and thousands of papers with notes. I already once expressed my gratitude to Wikipedia.

My Partner, a computer wiz, who regularly rushes to my rescue, at times without patience, definitely also deserves accolades for his technical assistance.

Fred fd Douglas

Bali

August 28, 2013

I

Om Swastyastu! (the om is pronounced with a long O-sound; Swastyastu is basically pronounced the way it is spelled/written, but bearing in mind the continental European A-sound, in other words "swUs-tea-yUs-tou). Today is Wednesday, January 23, 2008, another pleasant good-weather day, so very typical for this still Close-to-Paradise as possible on our DEAR WORLD. It is Hari (=day) Galungan, the most important Holy Day, NOT just a holiday, but truly a Holy Day, taken quite seriously in the Hindu Religion. Especially on this uniquely Beautiful, Mystical, Spiritual Island of BALI, in the fascinating Republic of Indonesia.

That is where I am right now, surrounded almost daily by spiritualism, mysticism and beauty in all of its tropical splendor! Hindu, Dharma Hindu, IS still the main religion on Bali, in a country, Indonesia, which is mainly Islam; however, the Agama Muslim –the Muslim Religion- is not officially declared the one and only national religion. Hari is pronounced, hUrry. Galungan, pronounced gUh-lou-ngUn with a French nasal twitch for the NG-combination means, when Dharma is winning, it symbolizes the victory, the triumph of Virtue (Dharma) over Evil (Adharma). I have also seen Dharma spelled without the H, apparently both spellings are accepted.

Galungan occurs every 210 days: the total numbers of days in the Balinese Wuku year. This Balinese Wuku calendar counts only six months, each with 35 days. Most years feature Hari Galungan two times, basically every six months of our Western Gregorian calendar; however, occasionally only once, like it did last year, on June 23. Om Swastyastu! or Om Swastiastu! is a wonderful greeting of respect, almost the equivalent of the English Welcome!, of the Dutch Welkom!, the German Willkommen!, the Indonesian Selamat Datang! It is also comparable to the French Soyez Bienvenue! the Spanish Bienvenido! the Italian Benvenuto! the Cantonese Chinese Foon ying! the Chinese Mandarin Huan yin(g)! and certainly of "Ya’ahowu!’ in the language of the Island of Nias.

On Bali, however, it is definitely used much more often, on quite a few occasions, other than when host and hostess greet visitors in their home. Ceremonially it is also sincerely said at the start of local, national, or international conferences and other important meetings, frequently followed by formally hitting a gong, indicating the official opening of the discussion, of a conference. The moderators at the beginning of news programs on television use it; at times, when one enters a store or other businesses, the Balinese employees say it on occasion, and, when totally done correctly, with open hands clasped together in a praying position.

The word swas refers to goodness, to happiness and cosmic perfection. On the unique Island of Bali, one holds the open hands in the praying position against one’s chest, with the fingers pointing up. The most often reproduced and widely known Praying Hands of the German artist Albrecht Duerer (1471-1528) from the city Nuernberg, in English Nuremberg, in the Northern part of the Province Bayern/Bavaria, in South Germany, are a perfect example for the hands, for this typically Balinese greeting of Om Swastyastu!

Except for three annoying private-miscalls later in the day, all at 13:25, one after the other, each with only two rings, my January 23, 2008, my Hari Galungan is like a usual, rather un-eventful day. I start waking up before six thirty that morning, as I do most mornings. Many sounds remind me of the beginning of another day: the melodious chattering and singing of the many species of exotic tropical birds, the morning glory crowing of a few cocks, also the nervous cackling of many chickens, intermingled with sporadic moaning of a few cows in the open spaces near the house. An infrequent bark of a dog in the distance, or the miaowing of a stray cat nearby are additional pleasant indications of nature.

But at times an obnoxiously loud motorcycle engine, fortunately 500 M (meter) away on the main road, and especially the first audible at least to my ears much more pleasant engine sounds of air traffic overhead, all indications of our modern machine dominated society, remind me of the beginning of another day, too. I wait, as I do most days, for my mobile telephone (mobiel, the name used in Europe), the cellular phone (abbreviated cell-phone, expression used in North-America, for exactly the same gadget), the hand-phone or in short HP (term used in Indonesia, and other Asian countries), to wake up. It gets back into action at 6:30, because that’s the time, I programmed it to start.

My big pet, an extremely beautiful German Shepherd, like a sophisticated young lady, elegantly and patiently sits in the door opening of the bedroom, after having done her stretching exercises. She knows quite well, how she is not allowed to come into her masters’ bedroom, the Blue Room. On nights of sleeping alone, one of the three West-side windows and the bedroom door usually stay open, for her benefit –she loves being able to see, hear and smell her first master. The open door and window also induce the circulation of fresh air. That one of the three West-windows, of a total of six in the master bedroom, has an anti-mosquito-gauze frame: on many nights an absolute necessity in this tropical climate of Beautiful Bali!

However, whenever the two Halves, the two Lovers, the two individuals in love, are together on the Island of Bali, the Air-Conditioner in our bedroom is on. My Better Half perspires very easily. In this case, we, of course, close that window as well as the bedroom door. Understandably much to the chagrin and disappointment of our four footed friend: she is without any shadow of doubt a true friend! The splendid, very true embodiment of the often-used saying, that a dog is man’s best friend ...!

When shortly after the initiation tones of the HP, I finally do get out of bed on this Hari Galungan, she greets me happily, like she always does, wagging her full and furry, long tail, which has black, different shades of gold, dark browns and light browns, as well as nuances of pastel beige colors. Her tail does very much look like a fancy, long plume –of about 40 CM (centimeter). She sports exactly the same colors quite symmetrically over her whole body. I give her some limited, neutral, bordering on half stern, morning attention, by questioning her with my Even kijken! Ben je goed geweest? Ik moet eerst kijken, of je ‘n goeie hond bent geweest. That mouthful of Dutch, while heading to the kitchen eagerly accompanied by her, means as much as I have to look first, if you have been a good dog.

That first daily task, to check, if she has done any of her duties in the kitchen area, is almost a current ritual. As I do this, checking the floor tiles half seriously, and especially when I do not notice any mishaps, half playfully, I ask several times, if she had been a good girl. She reacts by jumping against me repeatedly; trying to give me a kiss, as if to tell me, that indeed, she had been een goeie hond, Dutch for a good dog. I just need to make sure, that she does not throw me over; she is big, heavy –at least an estimated forty kilograms/KG-and quite strong.

I began this routine early in January of this year, after she occasionally started to leave me surprises between the refrigerator and the stove. It could have been, because she was not feeling well – I had a detailed, elaborate medi-psychological telephone conversation about it with Dr. Made (pronounced muh-day, by no means like the Made of Made in Germany), her veterinarian. He is Balinese. My pet could have been upset and angry, because I was not, more correctly both of us were not around for a few days: the two Halves were away on a short foreign holiday, still in this corner of the globe. Local acquaintances stayed at the house, especially to take care of her. When there are no unpleasant discoveries, I praise her, quite often scratching gently behind her very nice ears. No negative reactions are necessary that morning, so now abundant kind words, of course, in Dutch, were the order of the day, of the morning. Needless to say, much to her satisfaction.

Our pet has a gorgeous face. Her snout is quite long, beautifully so, adding charm to her very attractive tall and long body: truly a canine version of an elegantly tall, slim feminine regal human appearance. The typically pedigree German Shepherd ears normally stand upright and move like little radar disks at the slightest sound or tone – a very interesting sight, also quite amusingly funny. I make her breakfast, as I always do. Sometimes before I drink my coffee, at other times after I have enjoyed my first mug on the side terrace. This morning I decide to take care of her first. Her breakfast consists of one beaten raw egg, mixed with a lot of cold milk, deluded by a little clear faucet water – it was a very good suggestion of Dutch acquaintances, an older couple from Amsterdam, one of my very favorite cities, also, of course, because of my background.

I met the Dutch couple here on Bali, in Paradise, where they spend two months every year during the winter season in the Northern Hemisphere. My pet gets enough liquid in her body at the start of the day: very important in this warm, tropical climate, in order to prevent dehydration - true for humans as well as for animals. She loves her morning beverage! The Amsterdam-couple also advised me to crumble the eggshell into small pieces and add these to her egg-milk-water mixture. The calcium of the egg shells are additional vitamin nourishment. At the beginning, she did also consume these, but she got wise rather quickly and started to ignore them, leaving the pieces on the bottom of her bowl. Apparently, the taste of them, or the texture, perhaps even both, did not suit her, just like it would not appeal to us, humans. Needless to say, I do not bother with the eggshells any more.

After I eat my own breakfast of toast with Dutch chocolate spread (schokolade pasta), accompanied by more rather light coffee –my stomach does not tolerate it strong- that morning of Galungan, I get ready to start my day. The typical day outside usually involves checking my e-mails at an internet place and reacting to them. Also doing errands, in the main business and tourist area of the smaller city of Kuta, a suburb of her big brother -or sister?- Denpasar (pronounced den-pUS-are), the current capital of Bali.

Kuta (pronounced kou-tUh) with its beautiful beach, a surfers’ paradise at minimally ten percent the rates, expenses and costs of what they are in Hawai’i, is the prime tourist district. The young Australian surfing enthusiasts prefer to fly to nearby Bali, because of the proximity and also without any doubt because of the lower prices. One can find many cheaper hotels here, in Kuta. It is also quite crowded with little shops, boutiques, restaurants, far too many of them, all geared to the tourist trade, every single one of them quite eager to get their sadly small piece of the big foreign pie.

There are hotels with higher or much higher daily room rates, too; obviously intended for the well-to-do tourists, who insist on splurging, no matter what, no matter where, no matter how. Kuta does have some of these ocean-side establishments for the avant-garde, occasional nouveau rich. However, the majority of these hotels are mainly located in the towns of Jimbaran (djim-bUh-rUn), Nusa Dua (nou-sUh-dou-Uh) and Sanur (sUh-nour), all on the South coastal beaches of the island; the first mentioned on the West side, the other two on the East. They are a 30 to 40 minutes’ motorcycle ride away from Kuta, Sanur to the North, and the other two to the South. I have unfortunately also heard of ridiculously steep US-Dollar nightly fees, which are obscene, at least in my humble opinion. I will therefore refrain from quoting these here. I strongly feel, that there is unfortunately far too much misery, poverty and hunger on our DEAR WORLD, in order for any compassionate, intelligent individual to have to accept and support this economical obscenity.

After having shaved and showered, I casually select my outfit for the day, at least for that morning and early afternoon. In tropical zones of the earth, especially during the warm season, a change of clothing for the second half of the waking hours is no rarity. My before departure routine includes starting the motorcycle, enabling a warm-up: yes, even in the warmer weather of Bali this is a necessity, because the nights do tend to be cooler. Last, but not least, the farewells to my lady, who is already very much aware of the intentions of her first master to leave for part of the day.

She is a very clever animal! Already having retreated to her favorite pleasantly cool corner of the guestroom, the Green Room, she sits there and waits for my Dutch goodbyes: Ik ga uit! Netjes thuis blijven! Goed op ‘t huis passen, braaf zijn en geen kattekwaad uithalen! Ga weer lekker slapen! Again a ritual, and, of course, another mouthful of Dutch, to the extent of I am going out! Stay at home nicely/neatly, watch the house well, and behave yourself; no mischief! Go and have a good sleep! Mischief, like cats tend to do: kattekwaad –kwaad means angry.

The Dutch word netjes is a perfect example of its adoption into the Indonesian language; the meaning certainly the same, and the pronunciation almost identical, except that the spelling is slightly adjusted to necis. It is a cognate: the linguistic terminology for a word in two or more languages, having almost the same spelling, almost the same pronunciation, and definitely the same meaning. The English cat, the Dutch kat, and the German Katze are cognates, too. There is also another more-Indonesian word for neat(ly): rapi (pronounced rUp-pee). My pet understands Dutch the best, but also reacts somewhat hesitatingly to Indonesian, even to English AND to German. She is indeed a multi-lingual German Shepherd!

Finally, around 9:30, I am able to leave the house on the motorcycle.. Kuta is about ten kilometers from the house, an easy 15-20 minutes away, depending on traffic. I take care of my list of things to do and buy, before eating lunch in one of my steady little local restaurants, or in the Indonesian language warungs (pronounced wUh-roung) which are mostly owned and run by Indonesians from neighboring East-Java, miserably few by local Balinese. There are also quite a few Warung Padang: little Indonesian eating establishments, serving cuisine from the city Padang (pUh-dUng), located on the much bigger island Sumatra. However, these tend to be more pricy, perhaps an indication or reflection of the much more distant location of Padang.

It is definitely much easier and cheaper to eat out in a warung, than it would be to buy the meats, or fish, the vegetables, and ingredients, preparing a rather time-consuming meal at home. In addition, cooking the rice would require electricity, and preparing the side dishes would need the use of the gas stove. I usually get back home from my errands around three o’clock, also this afternoon. As soon as I am indoors I let my Sayang (Sweetheart, Darling; the word is just about pronounced the way it is spelled, without the typical American sound for especially the letter A; in other words sUh-young) know, that I am home and alright. No major, even no minor accidents crossed my path! Sigh of Relief!

Also, of course, on Hari Galungan, at 3 PM on Bali, making it 2 PM in Jakarta, because the capital of Indonesia is not located in the same time zone. I send him a written message on the mobile phone, on the cell phone, on the HP. He is usually in his office around that time. Hari Galungan is not a national holiday; it is only on Bali the commencement of a very important religious period of ten days. He is therefore indeed in the office. This is still pretty much my almost daily routine, or ritual. I live on my own, except when my Partner comes to me on Bali, or when I travel to my Better Half in the province of West-Java, in the city-province Jakarta, both obviously on the main island of Java, West of Bali. Fortunately, both possibilities are quite regularly the case. When separated, the two of US are very much in touch from the time we get up, in the course of the morning, also further during the afternoon and the evening, wherever each one of us might possibly be, until we both call it a day at bedtime!

On January 23, 2008, after I had come back home, of course, much to the delight of Juliet, my companion especially in the absence of my Partner, and after having sent him the basically I’m home and OK! -message, I organize and put away the groceries, I had bought. Then I do my bookkeeping, before giving attention to and spending time with my pet. Several oral and written contacts with my Special Person through the late afternoon, early evening, are a very welcome, pleasantly distracting diversion. There is always something to do and to take care of in a household, which also on Hari Galungan occupies me. I do everything myself, sweeping and wet mopping the floors, dusting the furniture, the laundry, garden work, cleaning the bathrooms. Not on a daily basis, but rather as time permits, or when the amount of dust warrants it, cries for it.

At six that evening I start to prepare the dinner of rice with a pre-cooked chicken concoction including vegetables for Juliet, my German Shepherd lady. The name fits her noble look perfectly. I cooked the chicken-vegetables mixture several days before. About once in ten days, I buy the local pork dish at a little Balinese restaurant, one kilometer away from the house. At times, I also cook chicken livers for us, for the two of us, us humans, and for Juliet: she likes my chicken liver recipe just as much as my Better Half and I do. She has her dinner between 6:30 and seven o’clock; also, this particular evening I give my pet her healthy meal at that time. Her stomach resembles very much a Swiss watch ... . Punctuality !

My own late nourishment, whenever I am solo, alone, without him, is a simple, light one: usually fruit, yoghurt, or a sandwich. And with this diet, I do not need to pay too much attention to the after six it sticks/stix (stix, in order for a more perfect rhyme) food intake philosophy: the time-span before retiring to bed is too short, for the calories to be burned off! When all by myself, I do not take too much care of, do not pay too much attention to when and what I eat. Infrequently I indulge in some ice cream, sitting on the side terrace. Although I am not a big fan of television, especially when alone, I do at times put it on for mostly the news, in the Indonesian language, with which I am gradually getting better. I prefer to read and write in a limited number of languages.

My Better Half and I communicate through the evening, until he is indoors, where he lives. He works in the capital of Indonesia, lives in a city to the South of it, in Bogor. He commutes mostly by train, sporadically by bus. Today, on Hari Galungan, it is close to midnight my time, Bali time, when he finally gets indoors. Where he still resides, it is one hour earlier. Jakarta and Bogor are both in the WIB (Waktu Indonesia Barat: Time-Zone of West-Indonesia: waktu, wUk-too, means time; barat, bah-rUt obviously West). Bali lies in the WITA (Waktu Indonesia Tengah: Time Zone of Central Indonesia; tengah, te-ngUh, means middle, central). Naturally I am quite relieved, that my Sayang is safely inside, also so very grateful, that I could finally collapse exhaustedly on our bed in Bali, sadly alone, All By Myself.

In the year 1975, keyboard player, guitarist, songwriter, and singer Eric Carmen (*August 11, 1949 in Cleveland, Ohio) made a name for himself with the very romantic All By Myself –Ballad. I liked the song very much then –melody and lyrics-, still do, to a somewhat lesser extent now, thirty-three years later. Especially the refrain of the lyrics speak quite strongly to my romantic heart, soul, and being.

"All by myself – Don’t want to be

All by myself anymore!

All by myself – Don’t want to live – All by myself anymore!"

Why I like the song slightly less now, could very well be, that in the late Seventies, when I started seriously, intentionally and quite passionately to get more and more into classical music, I recognized Eric Carmen’s basic melody in Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto #2, specifically in the Second Movement. Rachmaninoff’s work is one of my favorite concerti, the composer one of my top twenty-seven classical masters. It was initially with shock, until I began to notice repetitions, of course, mostly in the Western world: today’s musicians, our modern composers, even singers of every genre writing their own music taking bars from the old masters, who were and are not protected by copyrights.

It is a frequent occurrence. I notice it especially in motion picture music: Beethoven, Debussy, Wagner, the German Richard Strausz, as well as the Austrian Johann Strausz –no family ties. Many, many more compositions from the previous centuries reappear in our day and age. One case in point is our contemporary composer, conductor, ex-conductor of the Boston Pops, musical wiz John Williams (*February 8, 1932 on Long Island, NY) with his work for the 1977 Twentieth Century Fox George Lucas (*May 14, 1944, in CA: California) science-fiction production STAR WARS. This modern-classic color feature film starred the superb mature British character actor Alec Guinness (1914-2000), a young Harrison Ford (*July 13, 1942) and an even younger Mark Hamil (*September 25, 1951), both Americans. An interesting bit of side-information: the very same word hamil, pronounced hUh-meal, is the Indonesian word for pregnant. The movie’s main musical theme has distinct traces of compositions by Richard Strausz.

STAR WARS was the first of the initial trilogy, which were joined much later by three prequels. I am no big fan of sequels and prequels. Remakes of excellent Hollywood productions are totally out of my sphere of interest as well. On several occasions already, I have mentioned to my Partner the interesting phenomenon of how modern composers take a few basic bars from their copyright-unprotected predecessors, develop these, working them into their own product. My Better Half is musically quite gifted and listening carefully and leisurely to the hundreds and hundreds of classical CDs I have here in the house, could make him another Eric Carmen, even a successor to John Williams. It is a project for the future, hopefully not too distant. My Special Person is self-taught musically; no formal training. I very much welcome and fully support his positive qualities, whenever I can. The Welshman Tom Jones (*June, 7, 1940), and more recently also the Canadian-Quebecoise, Celine Dion (*March 30, 1968 in the province Quebec, Canada), whom we both like very much, are just a few of the artists, who did their take on Eric Carmen’s clever and successful All by Myself.

The Republik Indonesia –republik is the Indonesian spelling-, as it is officially known since its independence after WW II, should not be confused with another country of a remotely similar sounding name, India. The name India is derived from the Latin Indus, which in turn has its roots in the Greek word Hindwa. Indus as a noun means river, and in this function refers to the River Indus. When used as an adjective it translates into Indian. Hindwa also formed the basis for the word Hindu. The river Indus flows from the Himalayas through the Asian Hindu-nation India, the main one on the Indian sub-continent, and through Pakistan, where like in Indonesia Muslim is the dominant religion, into the Arabian Sea.

After Mainland China and before the United States of America, India is currently the second most populated, in the year 2050 projected to be the most-populated nation. Indonesia with its 240 million inhabitants is the fourth most populous on our already overcrowded DEAR WORLD. The name Indonesia comes from the same Latin Indus and the Greek nesos, meaning island. I am just a little perplexed and amused as well, why the small pearl-shaped island off the most Southern tip of India did not end up, getting a name, derived from the nesos and Indus combination. It received the name Ceylon instead.

In my professional and private dealings through almost five decades with many, many people in the good U.S. of A, I have noticed repeatedly, especially in the Sixties and Seventies, how scores do not know the difference between Sweden and Switzerland. Sweden is one of the five Scandinavian countries in Northern Europe; the others being Norway, Denmark, Finland, and Iceland, located by itself, off the continent, in the Atlantic Ocean. Small, but important and very strong Switzerland lies in the centre of Europe, bordered by Germany in the North, and then clockwise Lichtenstein, Austria, Italy and France.

There is further also the Austria-Australia mix-up among the same citizens, far too many of them, in what is currently the only one super power on the international stage. Australia is, of course, the fifth and smallest continent of the globe, located in the Southern Hemisphere, to the South East of Indonesia. Australia is practically a very close neighbour of Bali. The capital of the European nation Austria is Vienna, in German it is called Wien (pronounced ween, just like the English word seen, only with the W replacing the S), because German is the language of also the Austrians – I am sure, not too many Americans are aware of this, either. Decades ago a lady headmaster of a reputable and prestigious exam school in the United States of America, in the State of Massachusetts, in the City of Boston, was shockingly still in the dark about this lingual fact.

For many centuries, Vienna has been and still continues to be extremely important in the world of especially classical music. Also because of my professional careers, I was introduced to, got to know quite well, and used to visit quite regularly very romantic Wien. Vienna is obviously another one of my favorite destinations, even though I have not been there for more than twelve years. AMS (the airline code for Amsterdam) and VIE (the three letter airline code for Vienna) are surely on the list of cities, I would like to go to WITH my Better Half.

A week before Galungan, the usually very devout Balinese celebrate on each of three consecutive days traditional, symbolic purifications: of the mind (Sugian Tenten), always on a Wednesday, of the body (Sugian Jawa) on the following day, and of the soul (Sugian Bali) on Friday. Sugian is just one of the numerous Upacara-Upacara (pronounced ou-pah-tjah-rah) Agama, or Religious Celebrations -agama, ah-gah-mah, meaning religion. In the Indonesian language, the plural is formed by simply repeating the singular form. The three Sugian, sou-gee-Un, cleansing rituals are done through canang (the small square plates, woven from drier coconut leaves) offerings accompanied by prayers. On the following two days, on Saturday and Sunday, it is Embang Sugi, time for the ceremony-and-ritual loving Balinese to concentrate on the SELF, and to get ready for the arrival of the visiting spirits, by preparing sweets, also cooking other delicious dishes.

Then, in the very early hours of the Holy Day Galungan, way before sunrise, the guests, spirits –in Indonesian the roh- of only the virtuous family ancestors arrive. They obviously have already left the world -the literal translation of the very poetical sounding Indonesian meninggal dunia, me-nee-ngUhl do-ni-yUh, to leave the world. As an absolutely very big Romantic, I much rather prefer the meninggal dunia, than the Dutch sterven or dood gaan, the German sterben, the French mourir, or the English to die. The rohs are believed to finally descend again upon their former homes, which are all splendidly decorated, AND to the immediate circle of close relatives for a visit of ten days. In line with Balinese Hindu culture, throughout that whole day everyone is dressed in their Galungan-Best!

What is the ornate, ceremonial clothing, pakaian, pUh-kUh-yUn, of the Balinese? Interestingly also stemming from the Dutch colonial period is the Indonesian word for clothing. It is the contraction of the Dutch pakje aan, meaning, I have my suit on. The woman wears a fancy, not one for every day use, sarong, or in the Balinese language kamen, kUh-men. She wraps this piece of fancy clothe neatly, tightly and fully over her underskirt, or tapih, tUh-pee, around her waist, reaching her ankles. Younger women tend to opt for bright pastel colors of pink, peach, yellow, green, blue, even white, whereas older women prefer the more conservative indigo, brown and black.

The woman on Bali, until shortly before WW II, did wear absolutely nothing above the waist. It was her informal attire. There are quite a few exquisite and famous paintings of Balinese Beauties in their informal dress - my ninety-two years old Aunt in Amsterdam has one hanging in her living room. However, etiquette required women, even before WW II, to cover their breasts for formal wear. Because it obviously proved much too distracting for the Dutch soldiers, this custom of uncovered breasts, became tabu, forbidden; in both languages, Dutch as well as in Indonesian, verboden, a thing of the past. The Indonesian language has quite a few words and expressions from the colonial Dutch period.

Only a few years ago, during one of my first visits, I was amusingly stunned, when my path in busy, touristy Southern Bali, all of a sudden crossed for the first time, a lonely old, under-weight local woman, who, totally minding her own business, innocently exposed her fully uncovered upper torso with sagging, shriveled up breasts. Was she still living in the past? Has the ordinance from more than half a century ago simply gone by her, passed over her head? Or could this be an instance of the typically Indonesian cuek, I don’t care feature? Sometimes I still do encounter a repeat of that initially funny shock.

Returning to Galungan, over a beautiful bra the Balinese woman wears a colorful kebaya, keh-bUh-yUh, a body-blouse, not at all loose fitting. Often she will tie a slendang, pronounced slen-dung, or in the Balinese language senteng, over her blouse around the waist. The color of this scarf does not necessarily have to coordinate or compliment the colors of the other pieces of clothing. The majority of women, especially those not having their own long, long thick hair, add a sangul, a rich and full-looking piece of imitation hair in the shape of a round, thick bun or knot (a kondeh) to the upper back of their head. Flowers are inserted in especially the connection areas of real and fake hair, in order to make the headpiece even more attractive. For a Balinese woman to wear socks at ceremonial festivals is a rarity. On these festive occasions she simply slides her bare feet into a nice pair of sandals. In the business world and on a professional level, however, she will at times opt for dressy socks.

And her counterpart, the Balinese man? He also wears an inner sarong, the kamen, which is fancier than the one, a woman wears. The reason is that the lower part of his kamen, below the knees is shown and seen, because his outer ornate and fancy masculine sarong, the saput, is not full length, and at times is even not fully wrapped around the hips: in a fashion variation the front has a gap of about 12 CM. He completes his outfit with a beautiful safari-baju (baju, bUh-djou is shirt) as a top. Sometimes the man will also tie a scarf, an umpal, from the shoulder across his chest, and stuck in the scarf there is often an ornamental miniature kris.

When compared with what a younger woman wears, the color scheme of the masculine version, older and younger, is conservative, almost like the one of the older woman. A man has either sandals or shoes, with or without socks, as footwear. To add to the Galungan-Best outfit, the man almost always also has the destar, in the Balinese language udeng: a headpiece, typical for Bali, even for other parts of Indonesia. Yet, the headpiece does vary from region to region in shape, design, style and color.

I am gradually decreasing the inclusion of pronunciation for the Indonesian and Balinese words, because eventually the reader will start, getting the hang of it. As far as the other languages are concerned, I have opted, not to go the pronunciation route to any great extent. However, I would like very much to take this excellent opportunity to point out with strong emphasis the correct way to say the name for the capital, for the largest city in the Netherlands: Amsterdam IS pronounced, has to be pronounced um-ster-dum! (um just like the pronunciation of the un in unwelcome; dum like the synonym for stupid). I cringe in utter agony every single time, my poor, sensitive ears are tortured with the so very wrong em-ster-dem. Even quite a few members in the crews on Northwest Airlines flights from the United States of America, East-bound, to AMS, and on arrival at Schiphol (sgip-hol with that guttural G sound, so unique for the Dutch language), the very large, and well designed, laid-out international airport, make honest attempts to say the name of the destination the proper way. Definitely always very much to my approval and delight!

Spiritualism started in the Western World around 1850, with the writings of the Swedish scientist, theologian and philosopher, psychic and visionary Emmanuel Swedenborg (1688-1772), and with the celestial-terrestrial experiments of Swiss psychic Anton Mesmer (1734-1815). This was during the pre-Victorian era in Europe, during which people started substituting conventional religion with spiritualism. Emmanuel Swedenborg wrote over twenty theological works, mostly on the topic of spiritual awakening.

His best known was HEAVEN AND HELL, published in 1758, in which the author claimed to be have been able to speak freely with spirits. This he supposedly did on visits in Heaven, where he could talk with the angels, and while also dropping by Hell, he managed to converse with the demons as well. Aside of this Dualistic Good-Evil spiritual approach, he stressed the purpose of faith through charity. Swedenborg’s writings became the basis for the Swedenborgian Church, a new Christian sect. A remnant of it is the Swedenborgian Church of North America. Interestingly, its headquarters are in Newton, MA, a suburb of Boston, Massachusetts, USA.

In 1714, the very same Swede became interested in developing and building a flying machine, just like almost two hundred years earlier the Italian scientist, inventor and artist Leonardo DaVinci (1452-1519) made designs of what could have resulted in the predecessor of the helicopter. The experimental design of the Swedish scientist looked more like a flying saucer. The Italian Renaissance genius was born in Fiorenze/Florence, and worked in Roma/Rome, Bologna, Milano/Milan, and Venezia/Venice. Between 1503 and 1506, he worked on his very famous Mona Lisa painting, which now hangs in the Musee du Louvre in Paris, France.

Anton Mesmer was born on February 8, just like the legendary Hollywood persona James Dean would be 197 years later. The Swiss worked with animal magnetism, a totally uncharted field; however, especially in later years through observations and studies a proven fact. Strong representatives in the Animal Kingdom hunt on weaker preys by hypnotic, often paralyzing eye contact. Mesmer’s theories formed the roots of hypnosis, hypnosis of humans. In 1766, he wrote ON THE INFLUENCE OF THE PLANETS ON THE HUMAN BODY, describing the strong influence celestial bodies, the moon and the planets, have on the behavior and psyche of earthlings.

His contemporaries, however, questioned the authenticity of this work: was it plagiarism, or did Mesmer truly and originally come up with his controversial theories? Nevertheless, he surely did leave posterity with the new vocabulary word to mesmerize, obviously derived from his name! The Victorian Era got its name from the longest reigning monarch, Queen Victoria. Born in 1819, she ruled Britannia –the United Kingdom and the British Commonwealth Nations throughout the globe- from 1837 until her death in 1901. Her husband was the German Prince Albert (August 26, 1819-December 14, 1861).

For centuries, the name Mona Lisa has fascinated many people, many generations, especially in our modern era. It was and still is synonymous with the beauty of a slightly mysterious woman. Perhaps my last EX, who was responsible for getting our pet two years ago, should have called Juliet Mona Lisa instead ... . I like the name Juliet much more, also because it is almost always sure-fire ammunition for the Romeo and Juliet -theme! When hearing her name, people tend to immediately pop the Romeo-question, even locals on Bali. Often I answer how she has two Romeos, her two masters. Many Balinese, many Indonesians, even when not products of an university education, are generally aware of some universal culture. But there are sadly those though who are not aware of the fact, that Juliet is a girl’s name. These people ask, if our beautiful pet is a boy or girl ... .

However, knowing the theme of Romeo and Juliet, or even being somewhat familiar with the romance of those two names, does not automatically guarantee, that they also know its author, William Shakespeare (baptized April 26, 1564; meninggal dunia, left the world April 23, 1616). I know this, because I do sporadically drop the question: Who wrote ROMEO AND JULIET? In 1915, the opera MONA LISA by the German Max von Schilling (1868-1933) opened. He was the conductor of the Berlin State Opera. Beatrice von Dovsky (1866-1923), Viennese Authress, poetess, and actress, did the libretto for the opera, which enjoyed international success. In 1923, it even saw a production at the Metropolitan Opera in New York City. However, I have not ever seen it on the repertory of opera companies, since I started my strong interests in classical music.

In the Fifties, Nat King Cole (1919 in Alabama-1965 in California) made his rendition of the Livingstone-Evans song Mona Lisa an Unforgettable world sensation. That and more so his Unforgettable are very memorable songs on my list of favorite tunes, songs, musical compositions of any kind –operas, concerti, symphonies, operettas, musicals, pop songs. The name of Mona Lisa appeared in the 1986 British Michael Caine (*March 14, 1933) flick with that title; of course, he did not play the title role of the high-class call girl. Hollywood star Julia Roberts (*October 28, 1967 in Smyrna, GA: Georgia) did her big smile honor in the 2003 Columbia Picture MONA LISA SMILE, set in 1953. She played a progressive professor at Wellesley College, near Boston, Massachusetts, in New England, in the Northeast corner of the USA. The painting and the Musee du Louvre are importantly featured quite recently, in 2006, in another Columbia Picture starring Tom Hanks (*July, 9, 1956): THE DaVINCI CODE, based on the thriller by Dan Brown (*1964 in Exeter, New Hampshire, USA).

Especially in Western Spiritualism, the presence of an intermediary is paramount. This medium becomes the communication link between the mortal and the spirit on the other side. In the 1990 Demi Moore (*1962) -Patrick Swayze (*1952) romantic thriller GHOST of Paramount Pictures, Whoopi Goldberg (*1955) plays quite wonderfully the character of a con-artist, posing as ... a medium. Bali’s Eastern Spiritualism mostly goes hand in hand with Meditation and as such has been practiced for centuries. The spiritual worship on this Paradise Island is a mixture of Hinduism and Buddhism, stressing the importance of the basic morals, values and ethics in order to be able to enjoy a happy and satisfying full life. To have respect for and to be caring towards all fellow human beings, to live in harmony with the environment and nature, these are all deeply ingrained in the Balinese psyche: fortunately still so!

But for how many more decades will this still be true? Unfortunately, the influences from the West are quite varied and too strong to resist, especially for the younger generation of this fairly new nation. Indonesian television programs, especially their soaps, use English words, mostly American expressions, phrases and complete sentences far too frequently. Journalism and the strong influences of LaLa-Land –Los Angeles and especially nearby Hollywood- are without any doubt an important factor in this to me rather negative phenomenon. It makes me rather sad! The Indonesian over-usage of English is in sharp contrast to television programming in the European nations, where a similar trend is luckily only still sporadic.

In Indonesia, it is sadly quite chronic. As a linguist I have started to complain quite openly, how there will no longer be an Indonesian language in another fifty or one hundred years, if this ignoring of the mother tongue continues. The Indonesian, as well as the Balinese culture could easily become things of the past, their tongues consequently joining the terribly long list of so-called extinct languages. McDonald’s, Kentucky Fried Chicken, Starbucks, BurgerKing, Dunkin Donuts, Pizza Hut, Ace Hardware, CarreFour and many other Western outfits are now already gradually pushing the local products and native businesses, many of the warungs (local small restaurants, serving native dishes) into the background. It could merely be a matter of a very short time –less than half a century, perhaps-, that these native eating venues will completely disappear, just like the dinosaurs did. How very terribly sad for our DEAR WORLD!

Sembhayang, sem-bUh-young, or prayer with offerings, small or large, to the spirits, to the Gods, is part of life. Several times a day, mostly mornings and late afternoons, the whole island of Bali sees ceremonial floral offerings, especially at the many temples, small and large, at the shrines in front of and in homes or businesses, and even at traffic intersections. The small offerings are on little square dishes, woven of the long, narrow and dried greenish-yellowish coconut leaves. These plates of canang (pronounced tjUh-nUng), of floral offerings, also include very small portions of cooked rice, a few crackers, possible some fruit, even a coin or two of a very low denomination. Large ceremonial offerings on important occasions, associated with temple prayers, see women in festive clothing heading to the pura, pou-rUh, the temple, neatly balancing on top of their head much bigger and stronger light metal plates, full of colorful, seasonal fruit, built in different layers into the shape of a pyramid. These are called sesajen (seh-suh-djen), and banten (bun-ten).

Classic postcards, photos in travel guides and brochures often show a group of twelve to twenty women, dressed festively, carefully balancing a sajen on the head, while walking through terraced rice-fields of various rich green nuances, with majestic mountains under a clear tropical sky in different shades of blues, as a backdrop. At huge religious, communal events of a different specter another side of Balinese Spiritualism comes to the foreground: some people go into a trance, or are made to go into a trance –I am not sure-, apparently being in communication with the other world. For a very limited time-span, they seem to have absolutely no control over their body and actions. They run around and spin around with blank stares. I was told, how not everyone could go into a trance in order to communicate with the other world. I have seen these persons get out of their outer-worldly predicament, out of the trance as soon as a few small buckets of cold water are poured over them, or their faces, head and all, are dunked in a larger container of fresh water.

This coming Monday, January 28, at 10 PM, it will be exactly five years ago, that my Mam (Dutch spelling of the English mom, pronounced mUm) left this world at the age of eighty-four, four months and five days. This did not happen on Bali. If I were to do it totally correctly, I would have to consider the thirteen hours time difference –ahead on Bali!-, bringing us to the following day, Tuesday, January 29, at 11 AM. However, 10 AM in Jakarta. In the spirit of Galungan I think it only quite appropriate, to try to be at the place, where Mam gave birth to me, her first-born, at the very same moment five years ago, that she unfortunately left me, sadly left me for good.

Decision time, taking into account many factors, also, finances! Should I make the one-and-a half hour flight to the expensive Capital Jakarta for a long weekend, of course, being with my Sweetheart as well, for three days AND honoring with him the spirit of my Mother with a short vigil at the hospital, Rumah Sakit Budi Kemulyan, where I joined the human race 66 years ago? That RS, the abbreviation for rumah sakit, which means hospital, is still there, basically unchanged. The original structures at the front are merely joined by high-rise additions in the rear. The Indonesian word for sick is sakit (suh-keat) and rumah (rou-mUh) house, NOT room, a mistake I occasionally still make, actually should not make, because the Indonesian word for room is kamar, from the Dutch kamer. Languages, languages! I very much like them, even though knowing several of them could at times lead to confusion. Using the right preposition could at times also be extra tricky.

I am convinced that the spirit, the soul –in the Christian philosophy-, the roh of Mam hovers constantly in my vicinity, watching over me and protecting me. OR should my Sayang (=Sweetheart, Darling, pronounced suh-young) fly to me for four days, leaving JKT (the airline code for the city Jakarta) on Sunday afternoon, after his church-service? Several times a month, on weekends, he plays mostly the recorder and at times even the electric guitar in a church. A drummer he says, he is, too; however, I still need to experience listening to him behind the drums, which is actually an instrument I am not too fond of, especially when used in modern, non-melodious hard-rock compositions.

And yet, apparently, in early childhood, I used to be a drummer, too. Myself, I don’t recall this at all. There was a very small toy-drum at home, not yet, here on Bali. When I asked Mam about it quite a few years ago, she enlightened me with a big smile, how I used to beat on it passionately, apparently in my pre-school period. This could perhaps be one reason, why of all the Christmas carols, The Little Drummer Boy became my favorite. I simply love the civilized beat and harmonious tempo in that catchy seasonal melody.

My Partner is extremely good with music. Of course, also much better on the drums now, than I ever had been in the past, I assume. He also has a uniquely pleasant voice: he likes to sing and perform vocally. His speaking voice, and his singing voice are somewhat raspy, slightly Marlene Dietrich-ish. They have always been that way. I asked him about it, because he used to smoke; smoking will often affect one’s vocal cords. There is no doubt, how proud I am of his musical talent. That is why