Sacred Space

I arrived on the Indonesian island Bali Monday morning after a two and a half hour flight from Singapore. Denpasar, the capitol, is like any other city -- busy, fast, noisy, dirty. The roads are a mayhem of cars, trucks, and scooters -- legions of scooters, every where, with one to a half dozen people squeezed on each one. Driving on the left side, vehicles pretty much go where they will and form as many lanes as they can.

As we move out of the city and north towards Ubud, the roads narrow until they are a single lane. Nearing Ubud, they cut through rice paddies and suddenly dip and twist into deep river gorges and through banana plantations.

Located in the lower central highlands, Ubud is the centre of Balinese culture and religion. Traditional music and dance are performed nightly, temples abound, and spicy Balinese cuisine is served up.

My hotel is idylic. Situated 1 km from the village, it is perched on the side of a river gorge. The reception and dining areas are at street level, overlooking the river valley with the villas terraced down to the river. Mine is 91 winding steps down, thatch-roofed, high-ceilinged, with a large traditional serambi (veranda) extending out into the lush, dense vegetation. I hear the waterfall, look over a shrine, and am across from Pura (Temple) Gunung Lebah. An elaborate ceremony was taking place earlier today, the sounds of gongs, percussion instruments and priestly chants wafting across the river. Incense is rich and luxurious as it drifts on the heavy, humid air. I catch glimpses of the colourful sarongs and hear the laugther and chatter of the worshippers.

Brenda Newell, a member of St. Mark's who died a year and a half ago, inspired me to come to Bali. A few years ago when we did the series "Sacred Space" she described this Indonesian island in the Java Sea as the most saced and respectful place that she had visited.

One could always trust Brenda's judgement. I will make an offering in her honour at the Temple.