I'd read somewhere on the net (no idea of the scientific credentials so rationalists are probably quite right to be sceptical ) that NASA had done a study using something called the 'happiness index' and had come to the conclusion that two places on the planet supported the happiest people in the world: one was somewhere in the mountains of Peru and the other was Sidemen Valley in Bali. Well maybe I read it or dreamt it but I think if I lived in Sidemen Valley and didn't have to struggle too hard to feed my family I'd be the happiest bee in the hive.
Most of you know the beauty of the Balinese countryside; the lushness of the foliage, the fertility of the soil that's almost palpable, the sculpted landscape, the softness of the light, the earth heaving with the sounds of small living things.... the valley seemed to have all this in such a concentrated and pure form that we all fell instantly in love with it. Our digs ,courtesy of recommendations from this forum-thanks Edbob, Alanna and others-was Villa Cepik ,a two-roomed guesthouse with a lovely pool run by two ex-Gianyar -ians called Gusti and Ida. We rented one room, with an impressive picture window overlooking a very pretty valley, for $40 usd per night, and my sister rented the other set a little further back ,for $35.
No sooner had we arrived than the road(more like a country lane) beckoned as Ida told us that there was a river down there. Off we set. To the naked eye it looked like there was nobody in the landscape but we discovered how deceiving that can be when no sooner had we stopped to admire the abundant field of vegetables in front of our place than the figure of a young man began scurrying excitedly towards us . He was soon joined by several others, coming out of the field with bags of chillis and greens and emerging from the riverbed until there was a small crowd around us.Where did they come from? I thought.
A young man was telling us a story in broken English, the words we picked up -'Spanish',' passport', 'cut', 'help', 'carry' -painting a picture we couldn't yet see. I must confess to feeling a little nervous. We'd only arrived in this place and we were being asked to follow a stranger down an unknown path to help carry someone who was hurt. Before we could decide what to do along comes another group of people and trotting along in the middle of them this wholly naked, totally brown little old European man( that I swear was the spitting image of Picasso) that we soon discovered was the Spaniard in question.
The Spaniard actually spoke very good English and despite the oddness of his demeanour sounded quite rational if a little sheepish while he described to us how he'd gone to help someone fishing in the river and had lost his teeth!! His was not the only toothless grin around. All the old farmers were beaming at my sister and I who were assiduously trying not to look (children stop reading now) at the extremely well-endowed appendage before us. 'I'm sorry' said the Spaniard covering his hands over his groin in a weak attempt at modesty. This sent all the old folk into more paroxysms of giggles that went on for quite some time. As I asked more questions to try to get to the bottom of all the consternation, everyone was talking at once and the very harried young man who first approached us was making faces behind the Spaniard , the universal gestures for 'don't listen to him, he's not right in the head' kind of faces. Then with great authority he said we had to ring the Spanish embassy and proceeded to pull out his mobile to do so. As it turned out he ended up ringing the Swedish embassy because there was no Spanish embassy. I wanted to ask why the Swedes but concluded it was probably because it began with an S. Anyway, the Swedish embassy advised that we call the police who would escort the man to the 'thinking hospital' and then they, the Swedes, would make sure he had the requisite papers to get home to Spain.
As quickly as it had arrived the circus headed up the road and out of sight leaving us on a Sidemen road wondering what had really just happened and concluding that we were going to have a great stay in this place.
Ida filled us in later. The Spaniard had been living in the area for the past month-he had no money, no passport and the people he'd been staying with had kicked him out because he talked too much! The local people had provided him with clothes and food-the young man in charge of the rescue effort and his father had given him several sets of clothes-which disappeared no sooner than they were donned, and he'd been spending his nights sleeping on the riverbank.
I was struck by the genuine concern and compassion that these people who had so little displayed for some crazy little Spanish man.Perhaps there was something about propriety being crossed too?( : Ida herself had provided him with a set of Gusti's clothes but they too had disappeared. She fell short of feeding him-'I feel so sorry I cant feed him because he's mad'(Note to self: ask around about Balinese general attitudes to mental illness). Later, my friend who lived and worked in Bali for several years told me that Europeans going to Bali to commit suicide was relatively common-perhaps they were worried that that was his intention.
Other days in Sidemen Gusti drove us around the surrounding villages. We saw the Ikat weaving workshop which looked very 19th century though somehow not abject.We regularly watched people planting rice-they explained how it belonged to one family but neighbours et al came out to help and that this would be reciprocated when their turn came. I'm going to try that with the painting of our house. What do you think?
We climbed three hundred steps to a neighbouring villages' temple. It was some effort and we were duly pleased with ourselves until we saw the bags of cement the men who were doing maintenance on the temple had carried up there on their shoulders.
One afternoon I idly asked Gusti where Mick and Jerry had had their honeymoon ...ahhh Rolling Stones , he says, and within minutes we were winding our way up a very steep hill to Mick and Jerry's honeymoon guesthouse with us feeling a little embarrassed and trying to tell Gusti that we didn't really want to go there! But who can resist an opportunity to see how the other half live(d)? We were shuffled up to the top room and shown a photo album and sure enough there was Mick looking decidedly younger and on the next pages pictures of Roman Polanski and Nastassia Kinski and a few Indonesian movie stars to boot all smiling out from the verandah we were standing on.It was rather endearing that twenty years on the celebrities who had stayed here were still providing it with a selling point though they may be passed their use-by date since there wasn't a soul staying there at the time we were there.
Now let me tell you, celebrities aside, the view from this place is like no other I've ever seen. The valley does 180' around you and sweeps up to Gunung Agung. It is the singularly most exquisite place to sit and get lost in reverie I've ever stumbled across and we are determined that we'll have a couple of nights here sometime.Our fantasy is to come straight from the airport at night and wake up to it. The room was lovely too , swathed in a feeling of slightly decaying decadence which appealed to me no end, all marble floors and antique beds When we meekly asked what the tariffs were we were delighted to hear $60 usd for two ,and that includes breakfast, lunch and dinner.What a bargain. We returned home to discover that the guesthouse is in Lonely Planet so maybe it does all right for customers. It's called Patal Kikian.
There is absolutely nothing to 'do' here ,no restaurants, nightlife, tourist attractions (although you can drive fairly easily to Besakih,Tirtagganga, Candi Dasa etc.) or tours. But if youre after some peace and serenity, beautiful welcoming people, views and local walks,then if you havent done it already a few days -or months-in Sidemen could be for you.
You know when the dentist says "think of somewhere to take your mind of it" before they proceed to dig among your nerve endings? For me that place'll be Sidemen in all its vivid glory.
Final instalment : Amed