Sleep Deprivation and Black Magic‏- Thu 1/29/09

Dear All,

A few days ago the owner of my restaurant invited me to Java for a couple of days to camp out at an old temple in the middle of the jungle. Not only did it sound like an awesome trip, I had been planning to go to Java at some point for a look-see and didn't know how to get there. I ran home to pack and we drove to his house to grab some sleep. Four hours later we were on the road with four other men from his family. Three hours and a quick ferry ride after that, we landed in Banyuwangi on the island of Java.

My host told me that "Banyu" means "harbor", and "wangi" means "fragrant", "smelly" or, more charitably, "perfumed". I prefer to think of it as "stinky harbor" which was a perfect description.

He also informed me that Banyuwangi was famous for its black magic. "If you get involved with a Banyuwangi girl, she will block your vision and close your heart and you will never want to go anywhere ever again." I thought that was a weird way for someone to express their love and filed the new information away for future use. From the port, it was three hours to the temple in the jungle.

Along the way we went to visit a witch doctor in a nearby village. This man was reputed to be very powerful and my host had planned to go there to ask him some questions about the restaurants in Ubud.

It should be noted that both my host and I are serious skeptics when it comes to magic and divination. Still, we want to believe and it would be probably the coolest thing ever if the man was able to prove to us that he had supernatural abilities.

The shaman had the nicest house in the village by far. He was about 5 foot 6 with close cropped hair. Like all Indonesian men, he chain smoked and his voice sounded gravelly and sick. He was on his eleventh marriage and his cute 3 year old daughter ran around and made monkey faces at me. We sat in a circle, all six men happily and compulsively puffing away and me getting sicker and sicker. Then he took my host in the back and tried to do the reading. He couldn't do it, claiming he was distracted by so many people and could my host come back the following day without his posse. He then proceeded to do readings for the rest of us.

Frankly, I couldn't think of anything to ask him. My future is my future and I prefer to let it unfold as it will. I think I just wanted him to tell me things he couldn't possibly know. He seemed surprised that I wanted a reading and more surprised that I had nothing specific that I wanted to know about. I asked him to just give me some insight about my life at the moment and to please not tell me anything about my future. He wrote down my full name and disappeared into a back room for literally 20 minutes. When he came back he had an envelope with a code all over it. He said that because I was not married it was difficult for him to see anything clearly. He then proceeded to tell me all kinds of enormously obvious things about myself.

He told me that I liked to travel (gasp), had very close friends whom I trusted (how unlikely), and that if I stayed single I should keep trying lots of different things but if I got married I should start a business (apparently my wife will be a capitalist). He also told me I had a good future despite my request that he not go there.

Underwhelmed, we left and continued on our way. Our conversation went quite a lot like this.

"Do you think he had all those wives consecutively or at the same time?"
"Do you want a Banyuwangi girl?"
"I'm just amazed that he could manage to have that many."
"Well Alex, you know it is very easy to get married in Java. All you have to do is go to the family of the virgin you want and agree to give them 5 million Rupiah ($500)."
"Wow!"
"There is a Frenchman living in Banyuwangi who has had 90 wives!"
"Man, talk about being indecisive. He must not be a very nice guy."
"Ya. To get a divorce you only have to not support your wife for three months. Then you are no longer married."
"Oh!! No wonder the Banyuwangi women use black magic. They have to or their men will just take off. It all makes sense now."

The approach to the temple was 30 kilometers of poorly maintained jungle road. Full of deep holes, bumps and mud pits. Driving only 5kph we arrived at the temple compound well into the night. We had a preliminary ceremony with the priest, then set up our stuff on one of the covered platforms that are at every temple. The guys told me that this jungle in particular was filled with tigers, black panthers and snakes and that if I needed to use the bathroom I should go with someone. Then the other guys all lay down on the hard tiles, and while I was still wondering where the mattresses were, they fell asleep.

I tried to do the same for a little while and failed miserably. Finally I noticed that my host wasn't there and I went to go find him. He was chatting with the caretaker of the temple. He explained to me that after Suharto was ousted, the Javanese Hindu community felt that they could come out of hiding. They built or rebuilt their places of worship, many of which are hidden deep in the jungles, and are now a strong but quiet minority on the island. The reason we had come here, besides the novelty, was that this particular night is called Siwaratri. It is when Shiva comes down to earth and Hindus are then supposed to stay up all night fasting and meditating. I looked across the compound at the other guys sleeping soundly.

The caretaker asked us if we wanted to go into the jungle with him and see the original temple. We asked if it was safe with all the large jungle cats looking for a snack. He reassured us (sort of) saying that in the old days before the wall, tigers would roam the temple grounds freely and never attacked anyone. He added that the jungles were full of Hindu ascetics and that none of them get eaten either. We shrugged and followed him out into the darkness.

We walked through a forest of huge mahogany trees and came to a clearing with a tiny walled-in temple. This was the site of the original shrine. It was mostly crumbling, covered in offerings, wrapped in ceremonial cloth, and arched over by an old banyan tree, dripping vines. The caretaker put down a woven mat and I followed my host through a little ceremony. It was all very peaceful. Just jungle sounds and incense and ancient rites that I didn't understand.

When we got back, I thought that maybe I would be able to get some sleep. The flying ants had other ideas. Just as my eyes would close, one would crawl up my ankle. Then another dropped down the neck of my shirt. I brushed one out of my eye and it sunk its pincers into the soft flesh there. Suffice to say there was no sleep for me that night.

Thankfully, the others rose at dawn. We all helped sweep out the temple compound and then packed up to return to the witch doctor. This time the man followed through. He told my host things about the restaurants that he couldn't have known. He knew that he was the third owner of the land and that he had torn down the old building to make the new one. He made a cold rock become blazing hot by pointing a kris dagger at it. He communed with the guardian of one of the restaurants and said he was a nice old man.

My host came out of that room with a surprised look on his face and said, "well, he's for real."

I don't know, I didn't see it. I wish I did.

I'm still hung up on the worldly aspects of the witch doctor. When I asked the others what it takes to become a Balian (shaman) they said that anyone can become one but they have to study and meditate a lot. I instantly got a mental picture of this chain-smoking, marriage addict, sitting in the lotus position in a cave with a clove cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth and huge jets of smoke shooting out of his nostrils as he breathed deeply and opened a direct line to Allah. You can see my problem.

My host later contradicted the others. He told me that the Balian had said that he had been like this since he was 8 years old and that he had spent most of his life considering his gifts to be a curse. Now he just does what he does to help people. To his credit, he didn't charge my host a dime although he was given a nice donation.

In the car, semi-conscious, I decided that next time I'll try harder to think of a good question to ask. I'm still hoping to leave a room one day saying, "well, I didn't expect that to happen."

We got back to east Bali late and I slept like a dead man.

Hugs,
Alex

The Balian is the guy sitting next to me.
He randomly picked that moment to look fierce.

Outside Temple Alas Purwo in the morning.

The Future is later- Sun 1/18/09

Dear Y'all,

This e-mail is about near-death, thinking you are near death when you actually aren't, thinking you are near death when you actually are, and of course celebrating not dying by swimming naked. It is also about other things, like going up and down steps, but that sounds less catchy.

The other day while I was on my way out of my jungle abode and on the way up my rather steep and slippery steps, I came face to face with a beautiful, slender, bright green snake. It had a triangular head that ended in a pointy snout.

Flashing back a month to a conversation I had with my host's brother-in-law, he told me that the only really dangerous animal in Bali is a bright green snake with a pointy nose. If it bites you you experience about an hour of agonizing pain before dropping dead of respiratory paralysis and cardiac arrest. The anti-venom only works 20% of the time and that is only if you can get to medical facilities that keep it stocked.

My response was to run away like a frightened kitten yelling, "GREEN SNAKE!!!! BRIGHT FUCKING GREEN SNAKE!!!!! RIGHT THERE!!! OH CRAP! OH SHIT! OH etc. etc."

Once I found my balls (which were lodged far, far up my abdomen), I went back to see if it was still there. Mercifully it had gone off into the woods to ruin the day of some innocent marsupial and I was able to continue on my way.

This reminded me of when I was in India during college and our Yoga guru was talking to us about the nature of human understanding(or misunderstanding) of the world. He used a classic example to illustrate his point. You walk into a dimly lit room and see a cobra coiled in the corner. You become highly agitated. When the light is turned on, it reveals that what you had at first thought was a cobra was actually just some rope left in the corner. Thus, your misapprehension of the true nature of reality caused you to be quite upset. He went on to say that much of our understanding of the world is like this.

I find this quite profound. I also think that when you live in India (or apparently, Indonesia) and there is actually a good chance the rope is a cobra, it makes it a little more rational to have a fear response. I know that sidesteps the bigger lesson but there is a reason.

My destination that day was an island off the coast of Bali called Nusa Penida. A friend of a friend of my mother has hosted a group of Oberlin students there for the last two years. They stay with host families for a month and learn what they can about agriculture, culture, crafts, and a number of other topics. He suggested I come out and teach them a little about the cuisine of Bali.

After a drive to the coast and a half-hour ferry, I found myself in an undeveloped green place with nothing but little villages. Tiny, barely paved roads wind down jungle valleys and up grassy hills to ridges with epic views at all points.

The host Mark, has a beautiful but fairly modest house(by western standards) on the second highest point on the island. The view from his porch covers the entire western half of the island and the ocean, with mount Agung on Bali rising in the distance.

I spent the next few days learning about Nusa Penida with the students and teaching them some basic Balinese dishes in the evenings.

Nusa Penida has a reputation on Bali for some seriously powerful black magic. Mark told me that this is probably because they not only practice a highly animistic form of Hinduism, but also because it was used as a penal colony for the Gelgel dynasty many years ago, which gave it a bad rap.

We toured the alternative energy facilities on the island. Bali had hosted a conference on global warming last year and to prove to the world how green they were, the government had turned Nusa Penida into a haven for alternative energy. To that end, they had built 9 giant wind turbines, a $300,000 solar panel grid, a solar powered seawater purifier, a dung-methane seperator, and large waterworks to pull freshwater runoff from the cliffs back up to the villages for drinking. It was kind of an heroic effort on the part of the government. Inspirational even. The problem is that very little works.

Right after the conference, the government promptly stopped caring about their backwater little island and the machinery is slowly falling into disrepair. Only two of the wind generators work and their operation has not been authorized in Jakarta because someone forgot to grease the political wheels. The solar panels provide light for a few temple shrines, and the big solar grid is enough to provide everyone on the entire island with 7 watts of electricity. The seawater purifier seems to work, but the family that was supposed to use the methane separator has decided that rather than shovel tons of poop for a tiny amount of methane gas, they would rather just buy kerosene at the local shop.

One gets the feeling that the green revolution has come too soon to this island. It requires education and ongoing support from a government that is a little less corrupt. It is sad to see but also kind of predictable. What you end up with is a kind of defunct shrine to a potentially more sustainable future. One with adequate drinking water and energy for the poor despite drought and isolation.

On my last day, I took a hike to one of the freshwater runoff sites on the eastern side of the island. This side is all steep cliffs that plunge 400 feet or more to the sea. Most of the rain that falls on the island sinks directly through the limestone. This speedy runoff has historically produced persistent drought conditions. The water drains down until it hits denser rock and then makes its way towards the cliffs, eventually coming out in freshwater springs that eject directly into the ocean. The government found that if this water was collected and piped back to the villages, it would end all drought on the island. They built sketchy ladder/stairways down the cliffs to the runoff points and then installed pump houses and holding tanks to receive the water and bring it up to the top via massive steel pipes.

I started down the blue metal staircase. I should say that it wasn't really a staircase in the traditional sense. That is, the stairs were just 4 inch rectangular pipes welded at 2-foot intervals to the frame. It was really more of a ladder, which worked well when the stairs went nearly vertical, but not so well when they were less steep and there were huge gaps for you to slip into or through. It didn't help that everything was soaked from the recent thunderstorm. Along the whole staircase was a 12 inch round blue pipe as well as electrical cables. These acted at times like an additional handrail.

After a few minutes, the stairs opened out on a vista from which I could see up the coast and down to the water. I caught my breath. The sky was clearing. The surf crashed far below like a giant breathing. I felt that I was all alone in another world.

I continued down for a while and near the end, the metal stairs turned into wooden planks. They were sturdy...but they were wood, and they were situated in such a way that any error in engineering or even a rotten support beam would result in a 150ft death plunge onto the rocks.

Things were going alright until I reached a section that had partially collapsed. The rail was gone, there were no support beams underneath, and the whole 8ft section was tilted at a 10 degree angle towards the sea. I got weak in the knees but I could see the end, the wood felt fairly secure, and I thought perhaps that I would regret it if I didn't go all the way. Plus, I could always cling to the pipe if the stairs gave way.

I would love to say that I took out my whip, threw it around an overhanging branch, and swung to safety, but let's face facts...I didn't have a whip. Instead, I sat on the pipe with one leg on the broken stairs and shimmied across on my ass to the stronger planks at the other side. From there it was a quick trip to the waterworks and the falls at the bottom.

To celebrate my continued existence, I stripped down and swam around in the freshwater pools. I also left an offering at the shrines down there to ensure a safe return.

This brings us back to the snake. When I got back to Ubud the next day, I checked online to find more information about the deadly green serpent. As it turns out, there are deadly green snakes in Bali but mine was not one of them. Instead of the Blue Temple Viper (which is really, really bad news), what I saw was a Long-Nosed Whip Snake. The latter is a member of the cobra family but it is rear-fanged and reportedly not dangerous to humans. I guess my guru in India was right about misunderstanding but wrong about the cobra.

I'm not saying you shouldn't be careful, especially when taking risks, but why freak out? The snake might not be dangerous, the collapsing staircase might not be ready to give way yet. Things are not always what they seem.

Are any of you nodding your heads in agreement? You are so wrong.

The Blue Temple Viper could be in the next tree, the collapsing cliff-side stairs of death could easily have picked that moment to drop. The fact that we are alive at any given moment is never something to be taken lightly. I think what I'm trying to say is that (sensible or not) we are lucky and should all get naked and go swimming.

Love,
Alex

The View from Mark's Porch (Mt. Agung faintly visible)

The view from the other side of the porch

Trucking around Penida

Farmers drying seaweed

Cockfights:
Betting


Long Fight


The Cliffs!

The Stairs!

Better view of the stairway from above
(note the collapsing portion)
Sweaty dude
Meet the long-nosed whip snake...

I've got an awesome drawing board- Sat 1/10/09

Dear Foodies,

I had the best squid of my life the other night in a night market in Seminyak. This is just you average run-of-the-mill night market and there is no pedigree that would suggest great food but nevertheless, it is the best squid I've had to date in Bali and also in life.

The first reason it tasted so good is that it isn't called "squid". Here in Bali, it is called "chumi-chumi" (pronounced Choomie-choomie). Doesn't that just sound tastier than "squid"?

The second reason is that the chumi comes directly from the boat to the grill, a distance of only a couple hundred yards.

Third, it is nice and thick. For some reason, a lot of the chumi I've had in Bali has been thin. There is no need for that! The thick is better because when it is grilled over coconut husk coals, the outside gets a nice char but the inside stays juicy.

Lastly, they use the best marinade I have ever tried on seafood. It was sweet and spicy and garlicky in the perfect proportions, and is cooked right into the squid. What more could you ask for? Well, I asked for the recipe and a bag of it to go. The lady told me that there were only 5 ingredients(tomato, sweet red chili, garlic, salt, and brown sugar) but that sneaky little fox lied!

I've become accustomed to the locals "forgetting" what goes into the food they have made day in, day out for the last umpteen years. I forgive them too, since their livelihood depends on them giving something that can't be gotten elsewhere. Since I'm hip to this, I never believe anything until I not only have the exact proportions in my greedy little hands, but have tried out the recipe successfully.

To that end, I wisely brought the sample bag to the restaurant and placed it in a bowl on the counter. Then I took out a tray and arrayed the raw ingredients that I thought were in the mysterious concoction. What followed next was nothing short of inspiring.

The other cooks all gathered around, intrigued by the project, and tasted the marinade. All agreed it was very good but they could tell instantly where my ingredients were lacking. One person removed three cloves of garlic, another person demanded both shrimp paste and raw peanuts (both lacking from the woman's recipe), I could tell that there were hot chilies in there as well, but they added another to the two I put out. Lastly, they insisted I use palm sugar instead of brown sugar, and removed a chunk of tomato.

I toasted the shrimp paste, whizzed it all in the blender and then sauteed the paste in a little oil until it thickened and became fragrant. Lo and behold, it was nearly identical to the original. Actually, I thought it was a bit better. Then, as if waiting for his chance, the head chef came over, quietly took a single slice of kaffir lime and squeezed it into the mix.

It is difficult to describe what this did to the marinade. I suppose you could say that it infused it with a little raw electricity and a dash of hot sex so that when you put it into your mouth you felt excited and just a little bit guilty about feeling so good.

The difference between really good food and fucking great food is as simple and as difficult as this. Anybody can follow a recipe, so why aren't all restaurants as good as the French Laundry? How can we find that crucial thing that takes a dish to the next level, or even the level after the next level. How many times have we bitten into food and been well satisfied, when all it would have taken was that little something extra to make it mind-blowing. This is both miraculous and sickening to me, because it makes me realize how much there is to learn. I never thought there was an endpoint but still, getting humbled by a lime can be an eye-opening experience.

The end result is that I have what is to me, the best seafood marinade in the world (especially for Chumi). All it took was a taste-test, a team of Balinese chefs, their decades of experience, and a single slice of Kaffir lime.

All the best,
Alex

Here is the recipe:

Tomato Sambal/Bumbu

small tomato 1
raw peanuts(skin off) 1 Tbsp
hot chili 3
sweet red chili 4
shrimp paste 2 tsp (less if you don't fancy the rather strong but lovely fishy taste)
Palm Sugar 2 Tbsp (brown sugar is ok at substitute...but a little different)
Salt 1tsp
kaffir lime 1 nice squeeze
If you want to get really fancy you can take the kaffir lime leaves, slice incredibly thin and mix a pinch in with the cooked bumbu. Don't cook the leaves or the juice.

Directions:
-Toast trassi until it is a bit dry. Over an open flame is good, but don't burn it.
-Whiz all ingredients in blender except kaffir until pretty smooth. You may need to add a little water to aid blending.
-Saute until fragrant. Should not be wet. Cook out most of the water.
-Paint any grilling seafood or fish with the mixture a few times as it cooks. You can also marinate the seafood in it as well.

Island Paradises?- Wed 1/07/09

Dear All,

When I first came to Ubud, I started running in the rice fields to stay in shape. Rice fields, if you've never had a chance to see any, are beautiful. They are expansive and green. Poignant in the poverty and smiles of the workers. Rewarding in their isolation. When the rice is ready, the stalks ripple in the breeze. When the rice is harvested they flood the paddies and the pools of water reflect the sunlight in dramatic ways. They are really, really nice.

Just imagine how elated I was during my first run. Then, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, I came across a restaurant with a blue tarp for a roof, sitting on stilts, right there amongst the rice stalks. It sort of floated over the paddies like an alien spacecraft, selling noodles and organic vegetable dishes. Though quite beautiful, it struck me as odd. I got back to my bungalow and just gushed about the run to the Balinese grounds keeper. Then I asked him about the strange restaurant. He knew about it and said that it belonged to an Israeli guy and his Balinese wife. Then he suggested I buy some land, which also struck me as a little bit odd but I guess that owning things is what wealthy people do, and to the average Balinese, anyone with pale skin is wealthy.

Around that same time I was meeting a lot of the local expatriates. I was thrilled to bits with Ubud and my new lifestyle but they kept repeating the same things. They would say, "Oh, you should have seen Bali 10 years ago. It's ruined now." Or, "Oh, you should have seen Bali 20 years ago. It was all dirt roads and rice paddies. Now it's all over." They always get this far off look in their eyes as though thinking of a long lost love.

I have a message for all those wistful old-timers: Fuck you!

Are they blind? Most of these expats own businesses and villas along the very same roads that used to be dirt tracks through terraced rice fields. The artists and searchers that found their Shangri-la here are largely responsible for transforming this island into a tourist paradise. There are lots of islands in the world, do they think that Bali was developed by random chance? It happened because of them! Are they trying to keep Bali pure by opening up organic/holistic businesses and pricing all their merchandise in U.S. dollars? Do they love the culture so much that they erect western style eyesores on the main thoroughfares?

We are all beauty junkies over here. Searching and searching for the next hit. Each one fails to satisfy unless the mountains are steeper, the jungles are more lush, the people are smiley-er, the coastline is a more soothing shade of aqua. Eventually a place is found that represents the pinnacle of travel bliss and it is there that the lifers will settle down and stay for good. They must harbor the false hope that things will never change. That their paradise will remain unspoiled and perfect forever. This is illogical but when change strikes again, they are unprepared and end up whining about the good old days to some bright eyed newcomer in a bar.

That is part of what I appreciate about my hosts. They wouldn't deny that they are a part of the development in Bali. There would be no point. Development is not necessarily a bad thing. It, like so many other things that don't fit into a fairytale, is just a fact of life. What they do is develop nice things. Things that fit the landscape and are more or less in tune with the culture they are so intimately a part of. They love the place as much as anyone but are refreshingly unsentimental about its beauty, future, and the things they have to do to take care of their family.

The people wishing that Bali was a big cultural preserve would have no place here, no way to live. Would that make them happier? It would certainly make them less annoying. It is an interesting disconnect but then, Island culture is a weird thing. Lots of people are drawn to places like this but it seems like it is often more about what they think things should be like rather than how they actually are.

Love,
Alex

Your new to-do list- Fri 1/02/09

Dear All,

Happy new year! My own was a little disappointing. You see, I've been alternating great and miserable new year's eve parties. Two years ago was one of the worst ever. Last year was amazing. This year...

I started out the night getting minor surgery on my right middle finger. I had the hangnail from hell and when I ripped it off it sort of turned the skin along my nail inside out. Then it got infected. The doctor had time to see me new year's eve, so on the way to my party I pulled over and had a little roadside surgery. Then, with my finger swathed and with very little feeling in my hand from all the anesthetic, I rode my scooter an hour to the beach for what promised to be a truly excellent party with lots of thought provoking women. On the way there I got caught in a monsoon and found the beach entirely populated by dudes. That was around when the anesthetic wore off.

I don't mean to bring anyone down. One night means very little compared to a whole year. I'm sure you all had a good time and made a new year resolution or two. I've made a resolution of my own to provide a silver lining to the debacle. As any good plan originating here in Bali, mine makes little sense. Bear with me as I describe my method.

I am going to more fully embrace my burgeoning inner Bali-ness by living my life in accordance with the Balinese calender.

To approach this task, I figured I should turn to my local spiritual leaders for guidance. In a local tourist publication, there is a monthly posting of Gede Marayana's "List of Auspicious Days According to the Balinese Calender." As soon as I saw this, I new I had found a source of wisdom. If you are living in the land of the gods, the only thing to do is live your life in accordance with their preferences.

Guru Marayana lists a number of auspicious days for the month of December. I'll call it my Balinese to-do list and I don't think its wisdom is limited to the island, or even Southeast Asia. In fact, maybe we should all agree to follow his advice and see if we aren't living happier, more spiritually aligned lives by the end of the month. I've abbreviated the list to make room for the busy western leisure schedule.

**Firstly, you should only get your hair cut on Mondays, but the preferred day is the 26th.
**The 20th is the absolute best day to make a fish pond.
**There is something Mr. Marayana refers to as "burning the bricks." I don't know what this means exactly, but you should only do it on the 4th, 11th, or the 15th.
**The best days to "start learning" are the 10th or the 27th, which is good news for procrastinators everywhere. If you have already started learning something in previous months, then I think those are free days.
**The 24th is Siwaratri. That's the day that Shiva comes down from heaven to hang with earthlings. Be nice to everybody on this day because hey, you never know.
**The 1st, 2nd, 5th, 10th, 15th, 21st, and 31st are the best days to make a fishing rod.
**If you are going to start practicing Yoga it should be on the 1st, 2nd, or 3rd
**It is a good month for long trips but stick to the 1st, 2nd, 8th, 10th, 16th, 18th, 21st, 25th and 29th
**Cutting a big tree down is best done on the 2nd, 14th or 26th
**Planting a tree that bears fruit should be done on the 1st, 5th, 12th, 16th, 25th, or 30th
**You should only dig a well in the early half of the month. Either the 8th, 11th, or 14th. Check with the city first to avoid punching a hole through a water main.
**Castration of your animals should only occur on the 5th and/or 21st.
**Lastly, the best days for making love are the 1st(damn), 5th, 12th, 16th, 25th, and the 30th.

Later I'll let you know how my new plan is working out but I'm confident that if I stick to it this year will be the best year ever. My finger is starting to feel better already. Now I should go find some animals to castrate before Monday.


Sincerely,
Alex

This a video of another wedding I went to today. It should give you an idea of the blistering excitement that occurs during a Balinese wedding (it is rather interesting actually). Three points of interest. 1)You will see the groom get handed a cell phone during the ceremony. 2)This will go on for another 2 hours at which point the happy couple will move to the family shrine for another hour or so. 3)In this case (as is true quite often here) the couple, though in love, had to get married years before they wanted to because she got knocked up.

Who's the dork?
I love this guy!