Travel Blog: Bali (IV)

Date 2010-10-10

This was the third morning, and tonight will be the closing party of the festival, the wrapping up and promise to meet again next year. There was a sad feeling but also big anticipation for the day to come!

And here I was, typing in my keyboard, still with birds singing in the background, cocks shouting, lushful greens in front of me, oh there was a difference, the lotus flower had shy away from me.

Today would be a very special day, following the 10-10-10 energy, a tremendous milestone in our ascending into the next level. Thus with it, I vision and imaged, my inevitable joyous moments to come, let’s start today rolling and expanding!

*

I’ve just finished showering under the cold water, preparing to sleep, but before that I have to let out the lingering memories of hours earlier.

The first program I had today was about culinary in writing or could be termed culinary writing, but certainly not that all-too-familiar recipe book, and everyone was so engrossed in the experiences as Pauline Nguyen narrated pages from her book about her struggles growing up, her rebels toward her father, whom had a cold demeanour, conservative, and her affections toward her mother, and how in an unexpected and delicious way, came to realise that love did come in various manifestations. As she recited a certain story about that realisation, audiences could no longer hold off, and tissues had to be passed on.

“Do you know why Buddha sits in Lotus flower?” her father asked, and this is how her father would begin conversation. “Lotus flower is an amazing flower, out of swamp it grows, out of filthiness it stands, yet you can eat every part of her. My children are my lotus flower, because from me, who am filthy, improper, you rose to become such beautiful ones”.

After having enough vibration of emotion, I went into another venue, about 10 minutes walk north, into this big museum, over viewing a beautiful valley, Neka Museum, to meet Richard Gombrich, a self-taught Buddhist scholar, and Rio Helmi, the moderator for the morning. The talk was not quite a satisfying one, for Richard didn’t touch the subject I wanted to know, but in q&a did such question arise of how Buddhism view life as suffering, and answered by Rio in a beautiful way, which I would surmised into “suffering is the ignorance on the cause of tides of life, as such the individual doesn’t understand why things happen and doesn’t take the responsibility of it”.

*

As I walked into food stall, rain started falling, simple at first, but in seconds into such complex orchestra, and I quickly snuggled my way into the tents. There I met Theo, writer from East Timor, where minutes before talked in venue about Beyond Nation, and Danny, psychology lecturer and also social worker, whom I’ve gotten acquainted two days before in this very food stall with his nephew and his sister, and soon we engaged in interesting conversation on how people view themselves in relation to nation and the world at large, to which we concluded the expose to diversity since early life could lead to better understanding and have broader view of the other nation, which are the rest of the world.

The rain kept her glorious symphony, while we hurried to the next venue, the last venue before the closing party at Blanco Museum. A little drenched, chilled, I was warmed by poet after poet, delivering their hearts to the audiences.

*

Arriving 10 minutes late, there were already many inside the Blanco Museum. This museum was built in the name of Antonio Blanco, painter that had moved to Bali around 1975.

After a few speeches of thanks to sponsors and volunteers, the night began, slow, and rhythmically turn into fast paced and then slow down again to the end.

It was spectacular, everyone hipped and everyone hopped, jazzed, salsad, reggaed, whatever the name, we were sure to come back again next year to this wonderful event cause we are family.