This
year, next year, sometime - Nyepi
But
to press on -
"I was hoping you could join us around 5 o'clock when we make,this
offering," Nyoman continued, "because then you would see
what a Balinese christening is all about."
That evening I sat sipping hot sweet tea with Nyoman in his courtyard,
under an ancient jeruk tree, its fruit swinging above us on stringy
stems like a battery of green cannonballs.
abrasive
chemicals and whirring machines, soiled linen is handwashed daily
in water from the holy spring to an accompaniment of gosip and gigles.
In bygone years it was spread along the grassy river bank to dry.
Came an excessively wet season and the management wondered whether
they could make a slight departure from custom and erect a clothesline.
The
staff were delighted. Gossip and giggles echoed downstream as altogether
too many willing hands strung a sturdy line' between two teak trees
in front of the holy spring. In no time the hotel's first-ever line
of washing was drying briskly in the breeze..' The staff smiled
happily and thought of the carefree days ahead now the problem of
wet washing was solved. '
The next morning, the new line was broken.
Puzzled, but unconcerned, the staff repaired it. Again the daily
wash flapped merrily. Gossip and giggles abounded.
Next morning, the line was again in pieces. Once more it was renewed.
For more than a week this pattern persisted, until, as in al crises,
a priest was called to solve the riddle.
For
a long time the holy man stood holding the broken ends of wire in
his hands. At last, he crossed the river and sat beneath the'. sacred
banyan tree, looking back towards the holy spring and the damaged
line. Suddenly, he arose, made a couple of brief measurements, and
returned to the anxiously waiting group.
"All
is well, my friends," he told them with a smile. "Just'
lower your line a bit and you will have trouble-free drying. At
present your clothesline is strung right across the flight path
of the' gods as they go from the banyan tree to the holy spring
to bathe' each night. They keep bumping into it and breaking it
down."
Gladly,
the hotel did as the priest advised, to the accompaniment of redoubled
giggles and gossip, and so any day you go down the river bank, you
can see a colourful line 'of washing floating gently in the breeze.
To
impede the path of progress is sometimes a wise move. To impede
the path of the gods is folly indeed.
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