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If you hang out long enough, you will encounter Balinese celebration. I was lucky enough to run into a cremation ceremony as it began in the streets. It reminded me of the jazz funerals in New Orleans. Everyone in the village goes - they know whether you showed up and it would be bad form to skip out. It is a spectacle and a celebration, not a somber affair. The local garage band comes out to play, although they cop the universal attitude of young musicians. Everyone puts on their best clothes, except for the occasional tourist (there was an extremely tall guy wearing biking shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, but nobody seemed to care.) There is plenty of food, much of it in the form of offerings. But the Balinese are sensible people; after it is offered to the spirits you get to eat it in the end. Some delights, however, are there only for the mortals: a child gets his ice cream, a tourist his cold drink.