Heather’s Dream
Heather
Many visitors dream of finding “the real Bali,” and many businesses, from tour guides to golf courses, purport to offer an exclusive glimpse. It should be remembered, however, that all of it, from the airport to Singaraja and everything in between, IS real! Bali is a dynamic place, and every person here, from a hotel desk clerk or a tourist dancing in a nightclub to a rice farmer or an expatriate English teacher, is experiencing the “real world.” It is all around us.
Even in this swiftly changing world, however, there are still proudly traditional rural areas, where very few tourists get to go. Whether an area is simply too remote, not economically developed enough, or simply doesn’t cross the path of the major flow of tourist traffic, the events that happen there remain clearly personal, cultural, and truthful to the people of that specific area.
Bali is a mystical and spiritual place. If you’ve spent time here, then you probably already know that. If you haven’t, I’d highly recommend a visit to experience it first hand. Some people believe in fate, kismet, karma, or just simply “coincidence.” Personally, when I witness or experience a divine momentary “coincidence” here, I like to say: “Only in Bali!”
Heather and Pete
Meeting Heather and Pete was an “Only in Bali” moment. When a sudden cloudburst forced me off my scooter, I ran into the nearest restaurant for shelter. Seated, “coincidently,” at a table with a friend I had met previously, was Heather. I felt I already knew her the moment our eyes connected. After a brief conversation with her about the Cempaka Putih Foundation, and without even showing her the pictures I took of the warrior village for bait, Heather and Pete, her traveling companion, agreed to accompany me on this unique “Off the Beaten Track” experience. Heather explained to me that it had been a dream of hers to experience something authentic and traditional, free of the obvious influence of tourism, in her remaining days on the island.
Rice Terrace View at Tegalalang
The very next day, Heather, Pete, myself, Zoray, and her six year old daughter Cempaka (named after the flower, and the namesake of the Cempaka Putih Foundation) were in a little Jimny Jeep, taking the scenic route past the rice terraced valley of Tegalalang, on our way to Kintamani. Our journey was pleasantly moving along until a passing man on a scooter signaled to me that we had a flat tire. Believe it or not, just another two minutes down the road, we came across a small local mechanic. In a slow motion F1 racing maneuver, we managed to pull in and negotiate a tire pump. “Only in Bali!” Perhaps it is saying that so much that is making me believe it so strongly?
Heather, for reasons unknown to me, was surprisingly open and receptive of all the suggestions I made to make the most out of this trip. She even (with a small prior caveat) agreed to have lunch from a local warung that looks like it might not pass a western health inspection. One of Zoray’s favorite treats on our regular sojourns to Kintimani, this small family warung sells the tastiest fried fresh water fish, with rice, vegetables, peanuts, and sambal. It has become an instant tradition for us to stop there every week. After one bite, you would be willing to fight off a thousand flies to ensure that you get the next bite, and can finish your meal without sharing any of it!
Dee, Pete, and Heather in Pakaian Adat
With our stomachs full of this “daring” local delicacy, it was time for us to transform our outer appearance to please the local dress code, or “Pakaian Adat.” Gede played tailor with Pete and me to get us geared up with both an inner and outer sarong, a white headband, or “Udeng,” and a lovely cream jacket for me. Zoray assisted Heather in slipping graciously into a sarong, kabaya, and sash. Surely, this style of dress must have a lot of meaning, symbolism, and history. However, in our ignorance of such matters, we could only go with the flow in order to be allowed into the temples to experience an outsider’s glimpse of Balinese culture.
Gede, Zoray, and Cempaka
Escorted by Gede, Zoray, and Cempaka, we drove off from Volcano Breeze Café in Toya Bungkah into Songan village. As we arrived and got out of the car, we felt a little as though we had slipped through a portal into an alternate universe. It was a bit like in “Being John Malcovitch,” except perhaps this film would be called, “Being Balinese.” 
We had arrived at the edge of Lake Batur, and were making our way towards the temple, without another foreign visitor in sight. I took several pictures to try and capture the moment. I mentioned to Heather that this place is so beautiful that it would be a dream to live there. In that moment, Heather looked at me and said: “Dreams do come true.” Her modest dream was being realized that very second, surrounded by people so giving in spirit as to allow us, as foreigners and outsiders, to join them in their offerings and prayers.
To be continued…
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