Settling In

We are settling in nicely!  Sofia has had her first two full days of school, Friday and Monday.

We walk to school; down the mountain, across the bambu bridge, up the mountain, through the 8th grade rice growing project, past the scarecrow wearing crocs, up to her classroom.

She is making new friends, but doesn't always remember their names, and rattles on all evening about what she did during the day.  Her first grade class has 2 periods three times per week of green studies where they learn about the environment in both the macro and micro/hands on the compost.  The schedule includes music, drama, visual arts, p.e., Indonesian language, math/English/science, global awareness and community outreach (not sure about the actual content with the last two as we haven't had them yet).  I could write pages about the school and probably will as time goes on.  What a dynamic and cutting edge place, and what an honor and blessing to be a part of it, to live beside it, to be immersed in this community.

While Sofia and I were at her school (I promised her I would stay the first day), Asher had an outrageous cycling experience.  A group of 4 men and 1 woman headed out from John Hardy's house in the back of a padded, open bed truck with their bikes.  (If you don't recognize the name, John Hardy is one of the most successful contemporary jewelry designers and the founder of the Green School.  He came to Bali in the 1960s and put Balinese silversmithing on the international market.)  The truck left them off high in the mountains beside a volcano and the group proceeded to ride into and climb out of a crater, then work their way back to the Ubud area around 40 miles later.  Somewhere along the way the Asher followed John around a curve to the right and the others missed the turn.  Asher ended up back at John Hardy's house where they had lunch together.  John had his staff make Asher a full raw meal.  They talked for quite a while and John invited us to a party the next day.  Asher said every moment was magical.

Sofia's homework on Friday was to have fun during the weekend and we took the assignment seriously.  Not having many groceries or kitchen equipment yet, we went out to breakfast at one of our favorite restaurants in Ubud beside the town futbol (football, as in soccer) field where we could watch the school children in hot pink uniforms playing during gym class.  Then we went to the Ubud organic market, carrying home on our motorbike several big canvas grocery bags full of tropical fruits and vegetables, including a bunch of freshly harvested baby ferns I've been using for salads. 

At three in the afternoon we were at John Hardy's house, as requested.  He lives along the Sayan Ridge, near the Aman Dari and the Four Seasons, overlooking the Ayung River (the Green School is also beside the Ayung, down river about 10 minutes from Sayan).  The house is rustic, yet refined, rather like John's personality (he can be a bit gruff, yet is welcoming and generous), with everything facing the spectacular jungle view of the deep ravine.  We sipped healthy stevia sweetened drinks, chatted and waited for the family to assemble.  John's drivers took two carloads 45 minutes up into the hill country.  Sofia and I were in a car with John and his daughters, 14 and 10, open, vivacious, worldly girls who attend the Green School, and it was fun to listen to the banter.  

The party was a spectacle.  An American man who specializes in building fake waterfalls for casinos purchased a huge, remote property and then spent 5 years landscaping it, keeping the whole thing a secret from his wife.  The party was a surprise for her 50th birthday and had actually begun the day before when 60 of her friends from California showed up at the beach.  We walked past the heart shaped rice fields (see facebook photo) to the massive and magestic main pavilion built traditionally from bambu by John's company (he's out of the jewelry and into the bamboo business) for mixed drinks and your choice of 6 kinds of gelato while taking in the unobscured view.  We followed the stones -- there must have been thousands of them, carefully laid out -- all the way down to a clear creek, then back up again (sweating in nice clothes is socially acceptable in Bali), finding a bambu yurt and 2 joglo (traditional Sumatran) houses along the way, simply and gorgeously appointed.  A band played from the upper of two stages on the property.  At dusk the crowd moved to the lower stage for what started out as a traditional Balinese dance performance, the music a contemporary blend of Balinese gamelan and electronica.  Soon the dancers had fire in their palms.  Suddenly they wisked away their costumes, revealing little burlesque outfits underneath (I have never seen anything like this in Bali), and danced with flaming umbrellas, some with peacock fans of flames behind them.  The conclusion of the dance rolled the crowd back to the upper stage for another band and a happy birthday song.  During the huge buffet of Balinese food fireworks erupted, not from a safe American distance, but up close.  The pacing was different, too: instead of a slow build up to a grand finale it just went full force from the first moment to the last in the most spectacular and loud display I have ever seen.  I screamed with delight through the whole thing!

Back home in our Bambu Village we needed to deliver a message to one of our neighbors, a family from India who have lived in Connecticut and in Singapore before Bali.  She is a the second grade teacher at the school and he is a Green School administrator.  They invited us in, we fell into a remarkable conversation about raw food and nutrition, and they are eager to have us bring raw food to the school warung (little restaurant).  Turns out they had been dreaming of something like that, and so had we!

Sunday, after a potluck breakfast at our house getting to know all of our Bambu Village neighbors, we went river rafting with a group of 63 people from the Green School.  I have stayed at the Four Seasons and seen the view, similar to the Hardy's, from other properties in Sayan throughout the years, but I had never been on the Ayung River in a raft.  It was a completely different experience being IN the ravine; magical, gorgeous tropical views in every direction giant ferns, giant trees, waterfalls everywhere.  One long stretch of the stone wall ravine has been intricately carved with scenes from the Ramayana.  Our Balinese raft guide had a fantastic smile and gave off an air of strength and confidence.  Having worked for this outfit for 14 years, he knew how to expertly poise our raft on a rock, then wiggle the raft around knocking it off backward into the rapids to our squeals.  We stopped at a giant waterfall and got in -- one of my favorite things in life -- the water pounding hard on our helmeted heads.  

After the spectacular ride was over, John Hardy (yes, he was there again) invited us to the home of another Green School family for cocktails.  The owner, Chris, is an American married to a Japanese woman who has been running Lifespring type sessions in Asia for years.  The house was exquisite,  rustic and elegant at once.  I walked around the various pavilions in dreamlike wonder at the beauty of it all while Sofia and friends played in the infinity pool overlooking the spectacular Ayung valley.  Chris is the kind of host who can't bear to see an empty glass in your hand and immediately refreshes your drink.  He was serving very, very good vodka, so I was glad we had arrived by car with our new Lithuanian neighbors instead of traveling by motorbike.

Today, Monday, I walked Sofia to school (down, down, down then up, up, up) then joined about 25 other parents for a presentation by an author in town for the Ubud Writers and Readers Festival which begins on this week.  His name is Imran Ahmad and he did a reading from his memoir "Unimagined", a funny, heartfelt story about growing up Muslim in England.  I have (barely) started a memoir and it was encouraging to hear his tale.  I spoke to him afterwards and he discreetly slipped me a copy of his book and told me to hand it to him for signing.

It's the middle of the night, the first chance I've had to write and it's pouring (pouring) rain during the supposedly dry season.  Everything is working our beautifully.  Just when I wonder how we will get water for our dispenser -- the school has a deep well of pure water, but remember the down, down, down and the up, up, up) -- a Balinese woman from the neighboring village shows up looking for work and is happy to fill our 5 gallon jug, carrying it on her motorbike.  She is also now doing our laundry at her house, another thing I was wondering about having received an answer.  More pictures soon.  Much love to you all...