This morning its the kite festival again and its Iwal Fals — there's a giant photo of my neighbour, Tunas Jaya founder Madeg's son, a local politico , welcoming people to the noise -- and a hundred giant flags . The atmosphere is Ben Hur meets Joan Baez. Canoe enthusiasts paddle in the bay. All the regular hotties stay home on Sunday — its a day for the naff and the chubby. And thousands of kite enthusiasts in an hours time, in mad max outfits and attitudes.
I am still recovering from all the processions i joined yesterday — from denpasar to sanur to sayan. The highlights were pedanda istri karang and her sister in law pedanda istri splashing water from a high pavilion as 300 puspalingga filed past below-- precision filing, exquisite drop dead beauty. Next high moment was the 300 white umbrellas gaThered at the feet of the giant catur muka statue and fountain as the tampakgangsul brahmans, gold and white padmasari bier and spirited marching band headed south on a closed jalan vetran at 8 a m.
The spunk rat scavengers on sanur beach was the next high moment — they decend like vultures on celebrants wading into the waves st padanggalak, in search of bounty ( gold leaves and chinese coins)
The festival winning sayan bleganjur marching band at the ngerit cremation was the mext moment of amazement -- boy do they know how to lift the roof off a cremation ground
It took two hours of Scrabble in Sidakarya for me to settle down — oh the bliss of ceremonial Bali
Stop press: irma the bugis beauty has arrived, with her alsatian. And dear old kak from singgi on his sepeda jengki. Life returns to normal