There were new friends, and a path away from Ubud to the rice paddies, where the air is clean. There were newly planted rice greens, and palm trees.There was a famous sunset over the rice paddies – somewhere hidden behind the clouds. There was really bad fruit wine, and tales of unlikely career choices: horseback endurance riding through the Arabian desert, smelling out new healthcare solutions that sometimes seem like science fiction, and the choice of comfort versus chasing something that makes a heart beat faster from fear or thrill or both.

On the way back in town there were glow worms and fireflies lighting the path. As we passed their morse code of flickering lights we must have missed great secrets or serenades. Life is only as much as you can perceive and absorb – even if it is all displayed in front of you for the taking.

Live today. Tomorrow you can’t anymore.

(Sari Organik restaurant; Ubud, Bali, Indonesia; August 2015)

There was a throng of men cheering on at the temple, and I was curious. More men were hurrying up the stairs, carrying what looked like shopper baskets. Pushing past the elbows I ended up in the front row – of a cockfight. Two beautiful roosters were almost ready to fight – or rather, their owners considered them ready. As a last step, the poor birds were irritated until the verge of aggression by making their beaks touch and fluffing up their neck feathers. Let down on the dirt floor they will only see one another as an enemy to kill, and fight with metal hooks on their legs until death. The losing human owner loses his pride and losing betters sometimes even lose their farm. And one bird loses its life. Every time.

Cockfights are not really allowed on Bali and gambling not at all, but each temple is obligated to host one fight per year to appease the gods. Whatever happens after the first blood is shed is superfluous culture. The gods will not care one way or the other. And so, it is not really the cockerels that fight; it is the human (male?) ego. According to anthropology theory cockfights are a way to channel the ancient Balinese tribal warrior spirit in a less violent way in this modern world. Unfortunately, channeling the warrior spirit does not bode well for the poor roosters.

As I saw one more bird bleed to death on the dirt floor after a fight lasting perhaps a dozen seconds, I could not help but wonder: if according to Hindu belief any unnecessary death or violence increases a person’s karma, and the only way to find bliss is to shed all karma, what does such endless bloodspilling on a sacred temple floor cause?

(Ubud, Bali, Indonesia; August 2015)

According to the Balinese, two silent powers constantly struggle for control in the universe: good and evil. Equilibrium requires work, otherwise chaos gains foothold. But equilibrium also means the one cannot exist without the other. As soon as there is light there will be shadows. Good cannot exist without evil. And evil can only be kept away from human living by daily offerings to the spirits and gods.

Every morning right after dawn, the scent of flowers and incense floats around every Balinese house. Little banana leaf boxes are filled with flowers, rice, scatters of coconut shavings, and perhaps a sweetener, a cookie, or a candy. Incense sticks are lit. Each building requires offerings outside every gate, every main door, by the house shrine, and other places where protection is needed.

Sometimes bad things happen. Demons must be appeased. Unlike protective spirits who are given beautifully decorated and scented gifts, a demon offering may be rotten fruit rudely thrown to the ground. Sometimes this is enough for the demon to let go of the hold on the family.

As the incense smoke weaves through the village streets, equilibrium is restored and another good day can begin. And the pigeons and the ants get their well-blessed and tasty breakfast.

(Ubud, Bali, Indonesia; August 2015)