This week finds me in Ubud, Indonesia. My third trip this year, and like a good book Ubud gradually unfolds its secrets. Before I tell you this weeks trade secret, I must tell you about the celebration days in Bali. Basically almost every day has some kind of celebration attached, upon arriving the skies were full of kites, some as large small cars, diving and swooping, small children running up and down the mud paths between the paddy fields engaged in serious competition. Kite flying day in Bali.

The day after was "bless my small appliance day", which included cars and motorbikes. From early in the morning bikes and cars are been cleaned, mirrors fixed, scratches polished. Everything must be perfect for the local holy guy to do blessing and attach palm leaf decorations to your vehicle. Time to be grateful for these possessions and then ask for safety for the coming year. Or at least the next 220 days.. because they have four separate calendars here each with a list of holy and high days. Each calendar has different systems and numbers of days in a year, so you can see that some days come round more than one time (in our year).

Then on top of all this they have been taking the Euro football very serious here, even in the most remote mountain villages great silk flags float in the hot breeze denoting the country a particular household is supporting. Staying up all night to watch the footy, it's a wonder anything gets done.
But they do, this is a very industrious place. Ringo, our man in Bali had discovered an early morning market where wood carvers go to sell unfinished work to traders. Traders finish it off to the clients specifications and then pass it off as their own work. Interesting.. I wanted to see this market, and since it started at 6am (when the best deals are struck) I had to get up jolly early.
Maybe, Ringo thought, we could trade direct with artisan families.

We found the market on the edge of a small village, little more than a cattle shed, on arrival almost dark but for the morning light cutting through the holes in the roof and slanting through the rising incense. It soon brightened up and became quite busy, a regular hive of activity. I love markets of all kinds. Like a deeply furrowed field great mounds of carved wooden items were plied high, each stack with an old lady making offerings for harmony and good trade, and ready and more than able to make a hard Bali bargain.

Turns out that it is the wife's (or Grannies) job to sell the stock, while the husband sits and carves his particular speciality at home. Just about anything you can imagine is carved in about six varieties of available wood. I had to learn very quickly, the pluses and minuses of all the woods, (now I'm checking on the back story to the various types). These ladies are no push over, they know the value of the stock can make a sales pitch (with limited English) and take great pride in the workmanship of their stock. What's more they will (for a fee) finish off pieces in any finish you want; dark stain, high polish, gold filigree.

It crossed my mind at how old the traders were and if this is in away a dying profession. The younger generation, better educated want a life other than farming and carving. Supplies are sorely limited, try negotiating by offering a large quantity, and you get a sigh and open hands, "sorry we can only make 300 pieces a month, I can spare you half that". Thus prices are rising and therefore giving a little more money to these hard working artisans and that's not a bad thing.

More news next week.

Regards

David
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