ON AGAIN: BALI SPIRIT FESTIVAL 09
go to link ON AGAIN: BALI SPIRIT FESTIVAL 09
help finding literature review articles Having attended more than my fair share of official openings in Indonesia, I really tried to come late to avoid the droning speeches. Alas, it doesnâ€™t always work. Having barely missed another modern, highly chromatic presentation of Balinese dance, I walked in as Ubudâ€™s massage guru Kt Arsana was delivering a ranting rave or raving rant, not sure which, but in any case not much point looking for any meaning in it beyond an interesting psychological profile.
He wound it all up getting the crowd to chant Om and Namo Shivaya â€“ guaranteed to give the anti-yoga Muslim faction in the greater Malay archetypelago plenty of ammo. Next up, and not much further away on the naivete scale was the Bali Governorâ€™s rep who addressed the several hundred strong international crowd of groovy, neo-hippy, somewhat dreadlocked alternative types in formal Indonesian. Fail. Not sure why Dek Goen, co-director of the festival and husband of founder Meghan Pappenheim, didnâ€™t do the speech â€“ he is at least coherent and relevant, and a damn sight more real.
But the night was no lead balloon. Once all the deadly formalities were over the audience began shutting down their laptops, then the performances started. It really proved that â€œjust do itâ€ is the way to go. First up was Kathak dancer and teacher Pooja Bhatnagar, all the way from Jakarta, who proved to be still lithe and electric, a touch of ex-pat Mother India.
Then Rocky Dawuni, African reggae performer par excellence, got the crowd all loosened up and going. Ya mon – so much so that out the back of the crowd a few Acro-Yoga enthusiasts just couldnâ€™t resist stretching; one thing led to another and before you knew it they were on top of each other. Dang, it made me feel old and stiff.
I watched a fire dancer menage-a-trois do some pretty nifty flame, then traded in a few of my Rp10,000 ticket stubs for some organic brown rice with veggies and soy tempe – and a plastic bottle of some kinda oxygenated hydrogen dioxide.
After watching some more limberness (those acroyoga freaks go on for hours!) I creaked back to the stage to catch the last act of the night: Larissa Stow and the Sakti Tribe. She somehow got the crowd to do rock bhajan in sanskrit (now there’s a trick), and soon every one was on their feet. Not necessarily my music now (you shoulda asked me in the 70â€™s), but sheâ€™s a powerhouse and what a voice!
And I am glad BSF are back again. It hasnâ€™t been an easy run for the organizers. Economic downturns and cancellations can really bring your spirit down. But not these guys. AFAIK a couple of them really put their money where their mouth is: when sponsors easily spooked by the crisis took off on them, these guys forked out their own money. Now that, in the 21st Century, is commitment.
As I gathered up my mini-tribe and headed out the door to beat the stampede, I had to reluctantly admit, despite being abducted back thru time to my hippy days, that I felt good. It beats wrestling with reluctant uploads and life shortening deadlines.
Time warp or not, the spirit is there! Go Meghan and Kadek, (and your team)! Letâ€™s give it up for them! http://balispiritfestival.com/
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