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Our
next stop after a late lunch was the most anticipated of the day -
indeed, one of the most anticipated of our entire trip to Bali.
The Mother Temple at Besakih is the most important temple in
all of Bali, and we had read about it for years, hardly imagining
that one day we would actually be standing at its entrance.
We were a little puzzled when Dewa pulled the minivan up just
short of the parking lot at Besakih, and explained to us that
we would be accosted by many people trying to separate us from
our money, and that we should be very wary, starting with the
requested "donation" at the entrance. We listened to his advice,
hoping that it couldn't be as bad as he said.
As we got out of the minivan we paid the entrance fee at
the gate. We were then beckoned into a
building where we were to pay our "donation to the
temple". As you pay, you write the amount in a "visitor's
book", and as Dewa had warned us, the people behind the desk
were altering the books as we stood there, changing "10,000 Rupiah"
into "40,000 Rupiah", and demanding 40,000 since "everyone
else was paying 40,000". They scowled at us as we made our
donations, and quickly doctored these too as we left. We
were not off to a very good start with Besakih.
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After
you leave the money booth, you approach the temple
up a long road past a series of tourist souvenir shops
selling mostly junk. Finally you arrive at the steps
leading up to the temple itself. A procession of
pilgrims had just passed by - you can see them heading
up the steps, all dressed up in white and yellow for
the temple.
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At
the top of the steps we found ourselves at the edge of
a large courtyard. A small crowd of people were sitting
at the front of the courtyard, receiving blessings and
holy water from the priests and temple attendants. Tall
stairways led to higher levels of the temple complex -
most of them barred by signs that read 'Hindus Only'.
A Balinese man came up to us and wanted to explain
what was going on. We listened politely, but when
we moved on he kept following us.
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Whereever
we went, he kept following us. This is him in the
pink shirt at the foot of the stairs.
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Besakih
is huge - there is one temple complex after another,
with large courtyards and ornately carved stone gateways
leading from one area to the next. Besakih is situated
on the slopes of the sacred mountain, the (still occasionally
active) Gunung Agung. The resulting weather is almost
always overcast, which lends an air of gloom to the place.
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We
did see a little blue sky though. This is a view from
one of the upper levels back over the temples. The
number of merus and their height show that this
is a very important place indeed.
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More
merus... We were beginning to suspect that the
'Hindus Only' signs all over the temple were not so much
to preserve the sanctity of the temple, but to preserve the
income of the unofficial "tour guides", who waved us through
these gates continuously.
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This
magnificent stairway is lined by two huge dragons
carved in stone. Our "tour guide" was still with us,
giving his explanations about the different parts of
the temple. How much of this he had simply made up
was hard to say - from our own knowledge of the history
of the temple, we knew that several things he told us
were untrue, so who knew about the rest?
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At
one of the highest terraces of the temple complex,
our "tour guide" announced that he wanted to perform
a small temple ceremony with us. From a table of
previously used offerings, he gave us flowers (also
previously used) to hold and after a short
"meditation", he sprinkled us with holy water.
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It was
nice to have (sort of) prayed at Besakih, but it was
a half-hearted ceremony, especially when he then
demanded an extortionate fee "for the temple", which
we meekly paid, upon which he demanded a similar fee
for himself. We paid again since haggling seemed
improper in such surroundings. But it certainly took much
of the enjoyment and spirituality out of our visit,
and we were saddened that such a great temple had
become home to a bunch of con artists. The simple
joy and reverence of the ceremony at Bangli seemed
so much the greater now, compared with the money grubbing
and ostentatiousness at Besakih.
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Back at the minivan, Dewa shook his head as if to say
"I told you so" when we told him about our visit. He
was sorry we had been disappointed by our time at
Besakih, and even though it was late, there was one
more place he wanted to take us.
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Photos: Astrid, Martin and Julia Randall
All content copyright (c) 2001, Astrid, Martin and Julia Randall
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