Bali - exploring Ubud

Panniers off! When Maybe Thom and Sexy Pete are unladen they feel so airy to ride.

We’re taking the bikes up a ten-mile incline (and then back down again, weeeee), to see some of the countryside and temples around Ubud. Although enjoying the new sights, sounds and smells, we are increasingly feeling uncomfortable in our tourist role, another pair of westerners unintentionally changing the face of the place we are visiting.

I liked getting free of the Ubud craziness. On the one hand we really liked the place: it is pretty and easy for us westerners with lovely places to eat and drink, arts and handicrafts everywhere, and promotion of wellness and alternative living on every corner. However, as Lilz I think mentioned in his Ubud post, it all feels a bit unreal being in vegan brunch hangouts, surrounded by digital nomads taking video-calls between bites of their organic Buddha bowls and sips of their oat milk cappuccinos. Everything seems set up to be Instagram-worthy, the polished aesthetics just begging to be photographed.

It was wonderful cycling through little villages, and being surrounded by lush greens: the vibrant acid green of the rice paddies, creeping vines, huge banana leaves and swaying palms. A high point (literally and figuratively) was pausing at the Tegallalang rice terraces, cascading down a steep narrow valley. A cafe overlooking the terraces gave us reprieve from the already brutal mid-morning sun, where we stopped for a cold drink and hoped the dripping sweat would cease. It also gave us pause to watch tourists fly their drones and take photos of their girlfriends with arms outstretched to the sky.

Tegallalang is one of five rice terrace areas with UNESCO World Heritage status due to its traditional ‘subak’ irrigation system. Rice is seen as a gift from the gods, and the subak system is part of temple culture. Water temples are the focus of cooperative management of springs, canals and weirs controlling flows of water out onto the paddy fields. Since the 11th century the temple network has managed the ecology of rice terraces for whole watersheds, providing a communal and egalitarian farming practice that has enabled the Balinese to have very high rice productivity. However, the success of the terraces as a tourist destination has led to shifting livelihoods as farmers earn more by switching from farming to tourism, while others have sold their land to investors building tourist facilities… perhaps the very cafe we are sitting in.

Onwards and upwards we reach the water temple, Pura Gunung Kawi Sebatu. One of the lesser visited temples, it has beautiful carvings, tranquil ponds, and is a sacred site for purification rituals (Melukat). We found it utterly peaceful to wander around, enjoying marvelling at the intricate shrines and lazily watching koi move in the pools.

Many locals visit to bathe in the holy springs, believed to cleanse the body and soul of negative energy. Balinese use water purification as an important step before starting something new: e.g. as spiritual cleansing before weddings, graduation, coming of age. It is an activity open to people of all faiths, and there has been a sharp rise in tourists wanting to experience this traditional Balinese ritual.

Whilst the few tourists we saw taking part in Melukat seemed respectful of the process, we have heard there are many - largely at other more visited water temples - who show total disregard, simply taking part to create social media content. Also I wasn’t sure about the ritual being marketed as a ‘spiritual experience,’ with marked up prices for foreigners. I’ve seen websites promote Melukat as “a cool and unique thing to do in Bali”. Should sacred rituals be put up for sale? The dependence on tourism for local livelihoods motivates commodification of the ritual, turning the sacred practice to profit-driven performance, often simplified to align with tourist expectations. Tourists then receive an information asymmetry: they are often unfamiliar with Melukat’s cultural and spiritual significance, and consume it as a superficial experience. By diluting the practice as a ‘tourist attraction’ I wonder if it also compromises its cultural integrity for Balinese Hindus themselves.

We cycled on under darkening skies, feeling the promise of rain build. As the first drops fell we took shelter and watched in awe as the heavens opened, lightening and thunder shaking reality. It felt like a different world when the rain finally stopped. Cooler, fresher, the humidity wall broken, and the insect sounds came to life.

Soon on the downhill return to Ubud we almost free-wheeled all the way back, happily taking in local sights as we went, before returning to Ubud’s traffic chaos.Read more