One day during my stay in Bali I got ready for the long drive to Celuk, Ubud, and the still-active volcano in the north-west of the island. The day was filled with long stretches on the road interspersed with several interesting moments. The landscapes were remarkable and I couldn’t get enough of the Balinese images that lined the roadside: the intricate pagoda-style architecture of the rural homes; rice paddies steeped in water; fruit stalls that lined the roadways with colorful heaps of watermelon, mango, durian, lychees, oranges, jackfruit, dragon fruit, and more; the wood and stone carvings on sale all along the roadsides; figures of gods and deities everywhere; people walking holding flowers in their hands to offer at the alters in their homes, in their cars, on the roadside, and at their place of work...
The most exciting moment came my way almost serendipitously. While driving through one town I spotted a simply huge banyan tree. My eyes were focused on the hundreds of magnificent roots that cascaded down to the ground like Rapunzel’s long locks falling out from the window at the top of the tower. I excitedly asked Ketut to stop the car so that I could take a photo. It was then that I noticed the scores of school children sitting on the low stone wall built around the massive circumference of the tree trunk, and shaded by its profuse foliage. I had stumbled upon a school! I couldn’t go inside the school but did get a good look at its exterior. The structure of the main school building was again very traditional with a large ornately carved gateway in the front, guarded by a statue of what looked like Hanuman on either side, leading into an open courtyard with a statue of Ganesh in the center. There seemed to be two other buildings that were part of the school as well. Outside was a large sign displaying the name of the school and a flag post with the flag fluttering in the breeze. There were at least 200-300 boys and girls in blue and white uniforms hanging outside the school compound, freely moving in and out of the buildings. It seemed to be lunch time or some kind of break. There was a small dilapidated canteen outside the school serving snacks, cold drinks and sate dishes. The school kids were swarming all over the canteen as they got something to eat and drink, standing around, sitting on benches and at tables outside the canteen, or on the low wall around the base of the banyan tree. They were chattering, laughing and speaking in Bahasa Indonesia. I tried to ask some of them questions like the name of their school, and which classes they attended. Between sign language and spoken language they understood enough to give me some of the answers. One girl, who must be about 12-13 years old and was standing with her friends, said Class 1. But communications broke down when I asked what Class 1 was, or how many classes there were to finish school. My guess is they must have been in the beginning grades of high school. Clearly, we couldn't understand each other, and at that moment I so wished I knew Bahasa Indonesia to be able to understand more about the school life of these children I ran into that sunny afternoon in Bali...
