Stolen moments

The thing is, I still don’t have, and probably won’t soon have, a life of my own. I’m still being dragged around by circumstances or others’ decisions. But I’m not trying to resist or divert the flow of events, just float along. It’s what I’m capable of at the moment. I love Bali and I enjoy hanging around here – no problems with that. There are regrets I have, but for now, I also have all the time in the world. For the first time in eight years, I’m not on a schedule or tight timetable. Still learning how to deal with this. Still learning how to just stay in bed for a day and read a book, just because I feel like it, and I can.

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I keep stealing moments from others to create my own little moments. Maybe I should feel guilty. Not sure.

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There was a double wedding in the royal family, and the town threw a three-day party with music, food, and processions. In the header, it’s the king’s vintage Cadillac, which, according to the photo and information alongside, arrived here in the late 1940s along bumpy dirt roads after a boat ride from America. Unfortunately, foreigners were not allowed to enter the palace and get our pictures taken with the newly married couples or the decoration. So, just a sneak peak through the gate.

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There were hundreds of guests and well-wishers streaming through the gates for hours and hours. I had never seen such elaborate hairdos around here, and of course the blouses and sarongs were also much fancier than on any other occasion. Men who wear all white are priests.

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A musician and a character that looked and acted much like a court jester – note the sharp and authentic-looking traditional swords on their backs; for the second guy, it is underneath the cape.

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And I bumped into a funeral procession. Not rare. I pass by a burning pyre every week or so, just don’t take photos. This time, I didn’t realise in time. It looked exactly like your usual temple procession along the road, so I stopped to snap a quick picture, and then I saw the body and the burning torch. Usually there is an elaborate coffin, so not sure what was going on. It was Good Friday. A timely reminder.

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And then there is the usual two-week temple festival up on the rim of the volcano as well, at Pura Ulun Danu (I guess I should name my places, otherwise it’s really sloppy, right?) It took me a couple of days of trying to actually get there before the inevitable rainclouds rolled in.

For now, only a couple of stolen moments from here, young dancers and musicians during a break.

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This kid is not reacting to me taking a picture 🙂 There was a performance on the stage behind.

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More stolen moments later.

 

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