Old lady Wanasari Kelod Bali

Riding on from the temple the road came down into a valley with more sawah. The fields had been recently flooded and were in another part of the endless cycle of ploughing, planting, growing, ripening and harvesting. At the side of the road was a old Balinese lady wrapped in a sarong, tied up to prevent it dragging in the mud. She looked like a figure from a Walter Spies painting. I offered a few words in Indonesian and she responded in Balinese, probably doesn’t even speak Indonesian.

When you get out the city it becomes apparent that there are people living in Bali just as their ancestors did hundreds of years ago, with a few modern conveniences of course. Imagine traveling across Indonesia and exploring some of the 650 inhabited islands and learning about the different cultures, tribes, customs. It also becomes quickly apparent that people in these areas could not possibly relate to people in Jakarta passing dress codes, or laws affecting their arts and customs.