A Simple Affair

 6/7/2006. Candidasa, south eastern Bali.

On the edge of the dry season. Low dense cloud in shades of grey encircling the hills in a tight embrace. Cerulean blue skies peppered with luminous, puffy white clouds suspended over the ocean. A strong sea breeze carrying the seductive memory of far-flung lands leaving a salty aftertaste on my lips, rustling the leaves of the coconut palms high above my head as it passed by on its never-ending journey. A solitary charcoal-coloured cormorant on a lonely rock, its eyes never leaving the water. Hungry. Waiting for dinner to swim by. In the distance the hazy outline of Nusa Penida. Behind me, in the shade of a leafy grove of trees, half a dozen bamboo huts. One my home for a couple of days.

Simple dwellings built entirely of bamboo, split and whole, and beautifully-grained coconut wood. Almost nothing shop bought. All lovingly crafted by hand with typical Balinese flair. One thing in particular caught my eye. Not the intricately carved doorframes or the exquisite chairs chiseled from single sections of coconut palm trunks. As lovely as they were. Neither was it the tightly woven and completely waterproof grass roofs. The object of my attention was the light on my neighbour’s terrace. Despite sitting beneath it for a couple of days he hadn’t noticed it. No wonder really. It was a simple affair. Flex, a bulb and a shade. It was the inventiveness with which it was created that I found fascinating.

The terrace was wide. To one side a round table and five chairs, in the middle a wooden lounger and to the left a magnificent settle scattered with several rather plump red, black and white checkered cushions. A space that would require at least two lights if you wanted to illuminate either end. But two lights would involve more effort to install and cost more money to maintain. And besides, you would be unlikely to use both at the same time.

The Balinese solution?

A flex, maybe two and a half metres long, on one end of which you put a fitting and a bulb. The other end you wire into the cabling hidden somewhere in the carved wooden lintel above the door that opens into the hut. Because the flex is made of unsightly white plastic you cover it in lengths of bamboo tubing, cut short to retain the flexibility of the wire. For a shade you wander down to the local market early one morning and buy a shallow, woven rattan basket. You turn this basket upside down and cut a hole in the middle of the bottom for the bulb to hang through. Then comes the masterful touch. You suspend a two metre-long bamboo pole from the terrace roof from one side to the other. You secure a circle of bamboo about halfway along the flex and thread this onto the pole attached from the ceiling so that your light now hangs down at the appropriate height. A light that you can pull along the pole from over the table, to the lounger and across to the wooden settle on the other side of the terrace as needs be.

Creativity at its utmost, wonderfully simple best. Very cost-effective, eminently practical and aesthetically pleasing. And most certainly a lot more rewarding than going to a department store in Denpasar to buy a couple of wall lamps.

Illustrating so perfectly the artistic inventiveness embedded in the heart of Balinese culture.

Reminding us of how wonderful our imaginations can be when left to run free, unfettered by the limitations of the material, consumer-driven world.

© Jacqueline Le Sueur 2006