So...
I love staring my posts this way:

So... back to Nyepi and my doings, or lack of, for the day.
Woke up @ 1500 with a doosey of a head ache, having spent the better part of the evening before accomplishing Operation Inebriatus. Loitered outside the only open mini-mart in town from 2300 'till late, sitting in the street drinking tepid Bintags with a gaggle of other Western hooligans. What a bunch of morons we must have looked to any unfortunate passerby: a raucous pack of miscreants, blatantly boozing up in order to dispel any need to participate in the holy day of ceremony observed by the locals: all the locals. We eventually made it down to the beach to continue the, ahem, party - though I grew weary of their company far earlier and finally made a break for it near 0300. Ending up splashing away in my outdoor mandi doing a little laundry to put on the line for the morrow.
I awoke around 1500 find the town in absolute lockdown mode, shrouded in a veil of silence so deep, the sole sounds I could distinguish was the rustling of the leaves in nearby trees and the occassional cooing of a dove. The effect was overwhelming: for so many days and nights I had been subject to the constant rumbling of motors and brash voices: now to find a stillness not found in a community of my experience. It is a testament to the religious fervor and communal spirit of a community that such a feat could be accomplished with little to no force or pressure. So many people taking a day to spend with family, friends, or alone without the need for extravagence, clamor, or motors. I took the opportunity to sit quietly to myself, nibbling on some munchies, reading Graham Greene (The Quiet American no less), and softly chatting with my neighbors.
Come nightfall, no lights were allowed to shine, thus lending the feel of a bombing raid blackout, though without the impending sense of doom which that would entail. Sitting on the second story ledge with my neighbor Benno in blissful calm, watching the sun set over the rooftops of surrounding houses, I felt perfectly at ease. I wish that it were so every day in Bali, but such is not to be.
The rest of the evening spent alone in my room, huddled in a corner with my headlamp on ultra-low, digging greddily into a J.P. Donleavy novel, sipping on warm rum, waiting patiently for sleep to come.

I awoke the next morning before dawn and before the lifting of the silence. Five minutes to spare before the inevitable reawakening of the monsters lying dormant for a day. Right on cue at 0600, the distant coughing of a starter motor and the ensuing growl of the engine coming to life. Within minutes, the streets were crawling with the early risers and the morning surfers: the end of the affair. Luckily, many chose to start their day later, or not at all, so it was a gentle easing back into regular life.
I ambled down to the beach at 0700 after my requisite coffee to find that the surf was awesome and the beachcombers were scarce. But that is for another post.

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Until next time, dear children, when the Green Lantern imparts the Case of the Weakling Waverider, I leave you to fight ennui wherever it rears its ugly head. Engarde!