季风吹过印度尼西亚

文 图| 谭 涛

01 乌鲁瓦图断崖

三毛喜欢在旅途中用心灵捕捉那瞬息万变的感觉，细微却触动读者共鸣的神经，像微风吹过胡须，真实而难以捕捉。

我把行李打点到最简单，希望成为流浪的三毛。

初次踏上印度尼西亚的土壤，我内心的第一触感，不是脚步初探的声音，也不是欢声笑语的酒吧和豪华舒适的酒店，更不是遥远蔚蓝的海洋和金色迷人的沙滩，而是无意识想起多年前读过的一本书 ——《想象的共同体》，在想象的共同体心理下生发的民族情怀，以及印尼所展现出来的异域风采。

异域，总是和心灵的迁徙、他者的观望、时间的短暂这些词汇相互勾连。

语言的“巴别塔”

从巴厘岛登巴萨到乌布，我们决定依靠缘分临时租车，不知是偶然的幸运，还是必然的如此，我们遇到了热心的司机Puja。

Puja 是一位中年大叔，中等身材，喜欢穿一身黑色短袖，肚皮微凸，皮肤黝黑，大眼睛里闪烁着平静温和，典型的乐天派风格。这种第一印象，不自觉地在我心里形成了对巴厘岛男性的符号印象——亲切热情自然地流露于害羞与朴实中。

Puja 爱笑，一路上总喜欢把语言的“洋泾浜”融入到幽默之中。在澎湃的全球化浪潮中，如今的巴厘岛，在语言上彼此妥协，形成了土著语（印尼话、巴厘岛话）、英语、汉语等相互缠绕的巴别塔。

汽车行驶在乌布狭窄的公路上，在城市的喧嚣中走走停停，向内陆山地延伸而去。乌布郊区的村落是红色的，在起伏的绿色田野中躺着，包裹在绿色的稻田里，星星点点，散落在整个世界的绿里。偶尔出现的几棵椰子树，突兀在稻田里，又将村落点缀在自然错落的空间中。

Puja用略显生疏的英语介绍着村子、梯田，又用英语为我们翻译当地人的土著话。我们明白后，又不亦乐乎地问他应该怎么发音。

我们路过一个大型超市，这个超市修建在郊区，外面的停车场停满了车辆。在我们惊讶于人流量的同时，也看到了经济驱动下的文化交流，旅游这个词把欧美、大洋洲、亚洲的距离缩短，在乌布的超市里，演绎着陌生的相逢和文化的交集。

同伴走进了超市，我与司机站在路边，我递给他一支烟，陷入了短暂的沉默。公路上穿梭的汽车呼啸而过，把氛围弄得有些尴尬，我看到一个小孩光着脚丫子，蹲在河边，看着大人钓鱼。我问Puja，那小孩多大了，他乐呵呵地笑了起来，彼此语言的障碍，通过肢体语言辅助，表达着似懂非懂的日常琐碎。

这个家伙，居然有两个家，一个在“外头”，一个在“家里”，妻子的默认态度，“纵容”了他认为的幸福生活。他说，大儿子已经工作了，自己买车，开车拉游客，养活了两个“家”。Puja 的笑声充满了“显摆”的气息，哈哈大笑的眼睛，像季风吹来的印度洋海水。

神情创造了语言的巴别塔，我们就这样，彼此在陌生人面前侃侃而谈。

02 乌布街头的手工艺品商铺

03 顶着一盘香蕉贩卖的当地居民

众神住在椰子树上

黑色的柏油马路上，没有白色的分道线，汽车游走穿梭在乌布黛绿色的山林中，热带雨林的空气，裹挟着海水的味道，贴在茂密矗立的树干上，浸润了整片原始森林。

乌布，这座城镇像八爪鱼一样，城镇的触须跟着狭长的公路，延伸到绿色的尽头，这些触须的两旁，是手工艺品的聚集地，木雕、草编、油画等店铺延长了休闲的时间和距离。

我们一行四人，闲逛着往城市中心走去，人行道是铺设的下水道盖，一块接着一块，路旁放着印度教的祭祀花盘，商铺把本身狭窄的公路挤得更加狭长。

从乌布皇宫返回酒店，是折回郊区的路线，天色已逐渐昏暗，远处的天际线泛着昏黄的蒙影，洒落一地的祥和袭人心脾，人声的鼎沸也慢慢成了身后的遥远。工艺店铺渐次熄灯，路灯强撑着这个世界的光明。这座城市的傍晚六点，没有大都市的灯火辉煌。

04 乌布街头的手工艺品

05 宗教雕塑无处不在

06 乌布街景

乌布的人生，仿佛是“日出而作，日落而息”。而宗教的信仰，让岛民活在当下，也享受当下。

圣泉寺的宗教雕塑、村落里的对称生死门、自然图腾符号和小小的神龛，都彰显着对自然神力量的敬畏——面朝大海的海神，看似调皮的猴神，还有印度教的三大天神等，几乎拟人化了整个自然界。

这座“神仙”岛，是黑格尔古典主义美学的典范，但更加的感性。无论现代性如何蚕食传统，对自然神的信仰和崇拜，让巴厘岛人的人生洋溢着别样的洒脱。

有人说从新加披到印度尼西亚，是时空的倒退，新加披的现代都市之美，随处彰显技术与金钱的魅力，让整座花园城市的天空都能闻到商务的气息。印尼，这个岛国，更像是原始生活形态下的自然而然，随遇而安。

回酒店的路上，我们在一个小商铺买菠萝馅饼，遇到了一位美国小姑娘，妈妈戴着头盔，骑着摩托车载着女儿，女儿自然地向当地小贩买小吃。

我们相遇，彼此微笑，互打招呼。她们举家迁到巴厘岛，在田野里租了一栋小别墅，妈妈是瑜伽教练，女儿在乌布上国际学校，她很热情地像当地人一样，给我们介绍哪个地方好玩，什么地方有美食。

异域的美好，是因为短暂的邂逅，邂逅的缘分，不会像候鸟一样规律。美丽的巴厘岛，是一场季风吹来的相遇，终究会流散。可能也正因如此，美，总是与短暂共生，才会刻骨铭心，哪怕只是一场走马观花的旅行。

The Monsoon Blows through Indonesia

Article ＆ Figures | Tan Tao

The writer Sanmao liked to capture the changing feelings on the journey. Her description of these subtle emotional changes often strike an emotional chord with readers, like a breeze blowing through a beard, real but difficult to capture.

I packed only the essentials, hoping to become a wanderer, like Sanmao.

When I first set foot on the soil of Indonesia, what tickled my heart was not the excitement of first footsteps, not laughing bars and luxury hotels, not distant blue oceans and golden beaches, but a book that I read years ago-Imagined Communities. Perhaps affected by this book, the nationalist sentiments grew out of my imagined communal mentality, and I got the chance to witness the exotic look of Indonesia.

Exotic lands are always associated with words like, migration of the soul, watch from the sidelines, and the brevity of time.

The “Tower of Babel” in Language

From Denpasar, Bali, to Ubud, we decided to rely on our fate to rent a car temporarily. Whether by chance or God's plan, we met Puja, an enthusiastic driver.

Puja was a middle-aged uncle of medium build who likes to wear short black sleeves with a slightly protruding belly and dark complexion. His big eyes sparkled with calm, a typical optimistic person. This first impression, unconsciously in my mind, formed a symbolic impression of Bali men-warm and cordial characters naturally revealed in shyness and simplicity.

Puja loved to laugh, and always liked to incorporate the pidgin of language into his humor along the way. In this globalized world, Bali island has become a tower of Babel where different languages made a compromise and indigenous languages (Indonesian, Bali), English, Chinese can be found.

The car was driving on the narrow Ubud road, travelling through the city's hustle and bustle, heading towards the inland mountains. The villages on the outskirts of Ubud were red, lying in rolling green fields, wrapped in green paddy fields, like dots in this green field. You could spot some coconut trees occasionally. These towering coconut trees in the paddy field surprisingly decorated the village.

Puja introduced the village and the terraces in his poor English. He also translated the native language for us. When we understood him, we asked him how to pronounce it.

We passed a large supermarket, which was built on the outskirts of the city, and the car park outside was full of cars. As we were surprised by the flow of people, we also saw the cultural exchanges brought by economic development. The word tourism has shortened the distance between Europe, America, Oceania and Asia. In the supermarket of Ubud, you could see how strangers and different cultures interacted with each other.

When my companion walked into the supermarket, I stood by the roadside with the driver and handed him a cigarette. There was a brief silence. As we watched cars pass by, we felt a little awkward. I saw a barefoot child squatting by the river, watching an adult fishing. I asked Puja how old the child was, and he laughed happily. With his body language, I got to know his life despite language barriers between us.

This guy had two families, one "outside"and one "at home". His wife's tacit attitude "allowed" his extramarital affair, which he deemed as a happy life. He said his eldest son already had a job and his own car. He made a living by driving tourists, which also supported his father's two "families". Puja's laughter was full of "showing off". His laughing eyes looked like the monsoon blowing the Indian ocean.

Our looks and body languages were like the Babel of language, allowing us to talk to each other freely before strangers.

The Gods Live on the Coconut Tree

On the black asphalt road, there was no white separation line. The car traveled through the dark green mountain forest. The air of the tropical rain forest, with the smell of sea water, was blowing through the standing tall trees and infiltrating the whole primeval forest.

Ubud town was like an octopus. Its tentacles followed long, narrow roads to the end of the green zone, flanked by handicrafts, woodcarving, straw weaving, painting and other shops, giving tourists more time to travel and enjoy the leisure.

A group of four strolled towards the center of the city. The sidewalks were covered with paved sewer covers, with Hindu sacrificial dishes on the side of the road. Shops on the roadside made the narrow highway even more crowded.

Returning to the hotel from Ubud Palace was the route back to the suburbs. It was getting dark, and the distant skyline was covered with yellow shadows, giving people a sense of peace and comfort. The human noise was getting further away from us. Craft shops turned off their lights, leaving the street lamps light the place. At six in the evening, this city was not as bright as other metropolis that were ablaze with lights.

It seemed that islanders in Ubud "get up with the sunrise and rest with the sunset". And religious belief also allowed islanders to live and enjoy the present moment.

The religious sculptures of the temple, the symmetrical gates of life and death in the village, the natural totem symbols, and the small shrines all showed awe of the forces of nature-the sea-facing sea god, the seemingly mischievous monkey god, and the three gods of Hinduism, all personified the whole of nature.

This "fairy" island is a model of Hegel's classical aesthetics, but it is more sensual. No matter how modernity is nibbling away at tradition, the belief and worship of the natural deity allow Bali people to live a worry-free and comfortable life.

07 圣泉寺

08 乌布人家

09 行走在乌布街，仿佛众神在身边起舞

Some people say that the transition from Singapore to Indonesia is a retrogression in time and space. The beauty of the modern city of Singapore shows the charm of technology and money everywhere, allowing people to capture the atmosphere of business in the whole garden city. The island nation Indonesia, however, is more like a primitive form of life, giving you a sense of ease and comfort.

On our way back to the hotel, we were shopping for pineapple pies in a small shop where we met a little American girl with her mother. The mom had a helmet on her head and drove a motorcycle carrying her daughter, who was buying snacks from a local vendor.

We met, smiled and greeted each other. The family moved to Bali and rented a cottage in the fields. Her mother was a yoga instructor and her daughter attended an international school in Ubud. She enthusiastically told us places where we could have fun and enjoy the food like a local.

The beauty of travelling to an exotic land lies in fleeting encounter experiences and the unknown destiny, which will not be as regular as migratory birds. A monsoon brings us a chance to meet in the beautiful Bali, yet we'll eventually say farewells to others. Perhaps because of this, beauty is always transient and unforgettable. Even just a casual trip will also leave us beautiful memories to cherish.