Waltzing Through the Fields of Bali

Greeted by the typical broad, infectious smile, that only the Balinese can bestow, intuitively I warmed to the village local and Hanging Gardens resort’s guide “Adi” - as I graciously accepted the bottled water.

Adi, a motivated, blithesome character, I acknowledged his age to be the same as my 29 year old son and with a humble personality just as comparable.

Our conversation instantly gelled from the time we left the hotel lobby as we chatted amicably about our beliefs, values and interests in life.

I commended Adi on his fluency in English and he confessed his decision to leave his farming village ten years prior in his willingness to further study the language.

His father had passed on, so this meant leaving his mother and moving to work as a hotel cleaner in Kuta in order to pay the equivalent of 5AUD for each of his lessons in English. 

Fortunately, this lead to his current position in his home village, working in one of the most prestigious resorts in Bali. His dedication impressive in realising the struggle and lack of opportunities these people faced in order to seek an education to secure an occupation with steady income.

Spirited and infused by the energy of the morning sun, we continued our stroll through narrow streets of longstanding villages north of Ubud. I relished in the simplicity of the serene rural existence, meek sights of amused children, scruffy dogs and scrawny chickens scurrying across the road.

Before long giggling wholeheartedly whilst gripping Adi’s hand I was clambering down a slimy, muddy hill slope where my interest turned more so toward my ability in staying vertical rather than the educational lesson on the vegetation that Adi was prattling on about.

Luckily, the descent was a rewarded effort for I was immediately absorbed in a valley of dense rain-forest enclosed in a space of opulent foliage, draped in lustrous climbers of the darkest shades of green. The silence perceived to echo so loud as I marveled at the slightest patches of curious sky peeking through the knitted vines and creepers overhead.

Adi spoke of his love for vigorous activities such as running, swimming and white water rafting. Responsively, I declared my passion for ballroom dancing, unsure whether he was familiar with what I was on about or merely showing interest out of politeness.

Fortunately, our accent on the opposite side of the valley was relatively easier and a significant sight of boundless fields of lime green rice crops a fore a misty blue backdrop of mountains came into view. Distant temples added to the celestial protectiveness and John Denver’s "Annie's Song" came to mind for my senses were truly filled.

Unexpectedly, in that moment, Adi asked if I would mind showing him how to waltz.
“What here? Now?” I responded
“Yes”, he replied, “I’ve seen it on TV and I’d love to learn”…
so without hesitation, there I was amid the rice fields in the land of the Gods teaching this delightful young Balinese man the waltz and we were both ecstatic!

Ironically, later that day during my soothing massage, the sounds of pan flutes wafted through the air to the tune of Annie’s Song and I smiled with contentment