We just returned (and took a hot shower) from camping in Kintamani with friends who live in the village we stayed in. Their village was having an annual party, with particular significance, in a new temple. We got to join in the festivities by Seth helping with the sacrifice of the cow (more on that later), lots of carrying of offerings and participating rituals.
Between rituals we got to explore the beautiful lake and area by visiting a hot springs, biking around the lake, hiking to a waterfall (and drinking from a leaf, Bear would be so proud), and jumping in the lake to “shower”. Native style.
The past 36 hours have been a fantastic challenge to me. I know I’ll be sore from all the biking and climbing, not to mention carrying of the offerings. Seth feels similar and may tell his own story soon (he’s still riding back with Dan in the motorbike). Ellie got to play with her friends the whole time, so she was in heaven. And she was obviously oblivious to how amazing her surroundings were. I am constantly wondering what will stick with her later in life. Will she bike and think of the hills around the lake? Will she smell incense and get a flashback of praying in the temple with hundreds of others? Will she require rice with every meal from now on because of this experience? Who knows. I suppose that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?