The palmpilot awaits docking in Ko Samui, but until then I'll have to use the faciliities provided by the increasingly technosavvy Balinese (note I have described the rate of change and not the absolute savviness).
Bali, land of Paradise Lost, aptly put. The island was nicely insulated from the corrosive effects of Westernization until the beginning of this century, but even now the culture thrives as it did before, the Balinese having successfully quarantined tourism to a few select areas. The quarantine is an emergent phenomenon, a result of excellent tourist facilities and coalitions of craft distributors; it is interesting to note that the pricing scheme would suggest a different distribution of tourists, specifically that in which tourists avoid tourist areas; but the costs here are so low that even a threefold increase in price feels ridiculously cheap. It's not terribly hard to escape the trap, though I didn't try all that hard. It was far too easy to rest on my laurels and read on my patio overlooking acres of rice fields, wandering through the maze of narrow paths beside the aquaduct for meals and local adventures.
Every morning in Ubud, the center for cultural tourism where I spent most of my days, I would fall asleep to a chorus of geckos, frogs, and insects, and wake languidly to the sounds of roosters or children or the occassional cat. My thermos of hot tea awaited the opening of my doors, and as if by telepathy some nice Balinese youth brought a breakfast of fruits: apple, pineapple, banana, papaya; and an alternating special dish, either a banana crepe or french toast or a black rice pudding, each topped with copious shredded coconut and palm sugar. It couldn't help but put a smile on my face each day. When my subselves finally agglomerated into a desire for jalan-jalan (walking-walking), I strode again down the gardened twisty path, down the street of shops selling sarongs, batiks, wood carvings, paintings; temples; cafes; "official money changers"; homestays. I learned endless ways to decline the ubudquitous offers of "Hello, trrransporrrt?" with the rolling r's often accompanied by pantomime of steering: "Terima kasih" (receive love = thank you), "Tidak" (no), ignoration, "Jalan-jalan" (walking-walking), "Nnnnn", handwaving, "Oh, trrransporrrt! You have helicopterrr?", "You milk cow?" "Transport, transport, wherefore art thou, transport..." <
I met a lovely spiritual gypsy, Siana, who is a gifted tarot card reader and reiki healer; Steve, who wrote a good portion of the Lonely Planet Guide to Bali; a Hari Krishna with his Indian drum whose name I forget yet who clasped my hand with both of his upon parting; Francisco, the Venezuelan Canadia who sought governmental enlightenment at the infamous Reed University; Susan, the Australian easygoer who observed all with a smile and a joke; Rudy, the beautiful bulbous 73-year old Dutchman backpacker with stupendously large hands and a yet grander heart; Rai, the sweet 17-year old son of my homestay's owner who is the most natural barefoot footbagger I've yet witnessed, hitting 2-ad moves within 30 minutes of touching the footbag; Rai and Sri, lovely and kind artists lovingly furthering their cherished island arts of music and dance; John Anderson, friend of a friend and now a friend, expatriate and silver dealer with open arms and a kind manner; Michael, fisher and cook and traveler and amateur scientist with whom I could converse endlessly.... others....
Several nights I attended the traditional dances held in the palaces and temples. The Legong dance, the Kecak dance, the Fire Dance... The Kecak dance I've heard many times on a treasured CD, Music from the Morning of the World, that Blaise gave me years ago; it was good to finally see and hear its performance in person. For those who've never heard of it, the Kecak dance is a ritual chant of several interlocking rhythms of the syllable "Tjak," performed by a group of perhaps fifty chanters sitting in a circle facing inwards and waving arms and bodies under guidance of a leading chanter. I even managed to obtain the voicing patterns for the six parts from the expert bamboo musician Pondok. For the gratification of those who wish to experience the spinning interlocking patterns, I notate them below. I hope to try this out when I get enough people who want to rhythmize!
1: c _ c _ , c _ c _ , c _ c _ , C _ s _
2: c _ _ c , _ _ c _ , _ c _ _ , c _ _ _
3: _ c _ _ , c _ _ c , _ _ c _ , _ _ c _
4: c _ _ c , _ c _ _ , c _ _ c , _ c _ _
5: b _ _ _ , b _ _ _ , b _ _ _ , s _ _ _
6: _ _ c _ , _ _ c _ , _ _ c _ , _ _ c _
In my notation, "_" indicates a rest, "c" indicates a "tjak!" (now notated "cak!"), "C" indicates an accented "CAK!", "b" indicates a high pitched "Bo!" and "s" indicates a decaying "SHR-Zhr-zhr-zhr..." (the commas are measure lines).
I'm not sure if part 6 exists or if it merely represents the remnant of 1 not obscured by 5 (language barrier and finite patience). Also, I note the absence of any sound in any part on the very last note-space of the pattern which could be remedied by delaying the last cak of part 6 by one unit (any other part, changed, would require a participant to say two caks at consecutive opportunities, impossible given the speed of performance).
This isn't to say everything's been perfect: I got mildly ripped off by jerks in Hotel Surya, Kintamani, at the base of the active volcano-and while I don't mind being overcharged, I do mind being the object of dishonest dealings.
All told, Bali's been great. It's been utterly safe here despite the problems in Java and Lombok. This difference, I've heard it suggested, is a direct consequence of the religion of the Balinese: where Hindu says Que sera sera, Islam says Que sera serrate. The Balinese accept the actions of the world with peace and construct complex offerings of palm fronds, banana leaves, rice, flowers, and water, a ritual which occupied 60% of the women's productive time (and thus the productive time of 60% of all Bali (the women are out shoveling the gravel to build some wall-you should see what they balance on their heads!)).
Alas, it's time to move on. Thailand beckons, and I'd like to spend some decent time there before hopefully rendezvousing with Marv, Lisa, and Andy in Uzbekistan around the very end of March.
I'd like to mention one interesting thing I learned in Metamagical Themas by Douglas Hofstadter: the rational solution to the Prisoner's Dilemma. Basically, the Prisoner's Dilemma is a simple scenario that affords powerful insight into the evolutionary value of cooperation. In the scenario, two prisoners are being held captive. A deal is offered to both of them: plead guilty, and you'll get off free while your accomplice gets five years in the slammer; plead innocence and circumstantial evidence will get you each two years; if you both sing then you'll each get four years. Your choice is to cooperate with your accomplice, or defect. No matter what your accomplice pleads, you'll do better by defecting. But that's true for your accomplice, too, so s/he will defect as well, in which case you'll each get four years-but if you'd only cooperated you'd only have two years! It's a nasty little dilemma. What do you do? In an ecological simulation of little competing programs all playing the Prisoner's Dilemma (and remembering the past history of previous games with an opponent) the most generally successful strategy is "Tit for Tat": cooperate on the first game, and thereafter do whatever your opponent did (so if they defect, quickly punish then forgive if they cooperated again). So a successful strategy to competitive situations is be "nice, provokable, and forgiving."
Hofstadter gives a great logical analysis of the best choice to make in this situation. A first glance says you ought to defect, since you'll always do better. But if you're really following the logical solution (and you know everyone else is following logical choices too, and that everyone else knows everyone else is following logical choices, and everyone knows that everyone knows that everyone knows.... (a recursion of rationality Hofstadter calls superrationality)), and since logic is supposed to be independent of the logician, then everyone using logic will choose the same way, whatever that choice may be. So if everyone chooses the same, logically, then it's better if everyone chooses to cooperate. So, logically, you ought to cooperate! If you "logically" reason that you'd do better defecting, then you're really not being logical!
The happy consequence is that logic demands cooperation.
The down side is that humans are not logical.
Fascinating.
Love,
-xaq