The first week turned into 11 days, spent mostly with my friends in Bugbug, the next village East from Candi Dasa.   My friend Pak Nengah Binder was very sick with what was either an enemy's black magic, or cancer, or both, or something else.   The whole extended family was involved, distraught, desperate. . .

My friend Suati and her husband Nengah were having difficulties with her second pregnancy, and money.

Suati's 22 year old sister Nengah and I spent quite a lot of time together, talking (usually at her home or at Pura Sanghyang Ambu, where she worked).   Although I'd known her family for 5 years, I had only met Nengah two years ago, and I'll never forget the time she touched my arm and caused a sensation like an electric tingling through my body.   Being aware of the differences between our cultures I had put all thoughts of romance out of my mind.   Then.

Always there were other people around -- It was a wonderful time despite the suffering that was going on.   I was lucky enough to be able to help out a little.

Of the suffering and difficulties I took no photos.  I work on TV news in Australia and am not about to go exploiting other people's grief on my own time.

I did spend some time with my friend Pak Nyoman Mariatha, including a visit to a festival at Tenganan Dauh Tukad (near Tenganan) where all the boys and girls got to promenade.

We also went to a Ngaben (cremation ceremony) at Pak Mari's desa of Pesedahan, where I shot the Pedanda (brahmana priest) and a burning ogoh-ogoh ("sarcophagus").

Mangku Komang.	Pak Gel-gel in front of the procession.	Burning Ogoh-ogoh.
Ngaben procession.	Burning Ogoh-ogoh.	The Ngaben ends at the ocean.

After a week and a half I set out for Klaten, Central Java, en route to Sumatra, to spend a few days with Mr and Mrs Joedarto and their family, and to see Candi Prambanan again.

On the bus to Gilimanuk I met Agung and his wife, and we chatted a little on the ferry, and later, in Banyuwangi, they invited me to stay at their place and then catch the morning train to Yogya.   Their home was in the kampungs of Banyuwangi, about 30 mins by train from the main station.   They fed me, gave me a place to sleep (with Agung, who explained that they couldn't leave me to sleep alone -- that would be bad manners).

The next morning I bathed at their neighbour's house, where they had prepared some warm water ( ! ) for me.   Then the whole family came to the station to see me off, including the jovial Pak Hasan.   I must say that in all the times I've been to Banyuwangi I have always been treated very well, and have never seen any of the seedy things that I have heard about.

Pak and Bu Joedarto insisted I stay for a week. . .  How could I refuse?  Among other things, we talked about the my attraction to Nengah. . .  I was unable to get her out of my head, and Bu and Pak Yud were insisting that Balinese women made excellent wives.

We did go to the Prambanan Temple complex, and to Yogya, a family gathering in Solo, sightseeing around Klaten, and Pak Andreas, an English teacher at a local high school invited me to his school where I spoke to six   classes of happy, shy students.   Later at Andreas' home (right out in the rural backblocks of Klaten) I had tea and cakes, dinner, and lots of interesting conversation with Andreas who is doing all he can for his students despite limited resources.

At the end of the week I'd decided to return to Bali and explore this new relationship.   The Joedartos gave me some krupuk emping (very special, delicious crackers made from the seeds/berries of the Melinjo tree) and some traditional medicine for Pak Binder, taken from plants in the garden and roots like kunyit (turmeric).

All were glad to see me on my return (Nengah's extended family, the folk at Taruna. . .) and Nengah's father, Wayan Tena made up the first batch of medicine for his brother straight away.   A day or so later Nengah and I gained her father's permission to see more of each other, feeling that we just might be "jodoh", right for each other.

We saw a lot of each other, just hanging around, day-tripping to Amlapura, sometimes hiring a car to go sightseeing, with friends and family or just alone.

To Besakih	Air Saneh	At Ujung
Tanah Lot	Nengah going to Pura Gumang	Bu Nengah Ribut and Jero Nengah Rai at Pura Sanghyang Ambu.
Nengah's sister Nengah going to Pura Gumang.	Nengah's sister Ketut, cousin Nengah, and friends, going to Gumang.	Suati's house, on the side of the mountain in Bugbug.
Nengah's sisters Ketut and Nyoman, with others, in front of Pak Tena's place	Independence Day Parade Amlapura.	Young ladies with offerings on parade, Amlapura.

Nengah and I spent a lot of time commuting the 3 hours by bus between Bugbug and Denpasar to organise her passport and getting the required papers and clearances for her upcoming migration to Australia.   With the help of various folk, including some nice Intel Policemen, we were able to get Nengah's passport quickly and cheaply (about Rp150,000).   I was very proud of the way she dealt with the bureaucracy at Imigrasi.

You know all those signs about wearing the correct clothing if you want to enter a government office in Indonesia?   Well on the second day that we had to deal with Imigrasi Nengah wore thongs.   We weren't allowed in.   All I could think of was to give Nengah my shoes and go out and buy her a new pair.   If we'd gone home to get hers we'd have lost a day, and this was Friday, so we only had half a day to get the papers finalised anyway!   So she went in under protest, embarassed at having to wear HUGE shoes, and I went off barefoot to find a taxi and buy some new shoes, armed with only a tiny pair of thongs as a size guide.   We laugh about it.   Now.   :)

Finally I had to return to Australia, to return five weeks later (my boss helped me to arrange some more leave).   Pak Mari and Ibu Sri had agreed to take on the difficult and stressful (as it turned out) task of arranging the ceremonies.   The auspicious date of 27 October had been chosen, with assurances that the slightly inauspicious aspects of this auspicious day could be compensated for with the right offerings.   Everything was set.   (?)

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