Explore the East of Batur

'Not many people, however, visit Trunyan. Most are discouraged by stories of touts demanding extortionate boat fares that increase halfway across the lake…'

The small boat rocked precariously as I stepped onto a rickety wooden landing stage and walked the few metres to the entrance of the tiny cemetery. Shrouded by the broad canopy and trailing branches of a towering tree, the stone steps and narrow split gate were almost hidden from sight. A pair of green-painted statues, the cemetery guardians, surveyed me silently as I entered their domain. The air was clammy, and the atmosphere heavy and eerie.

Ducking through the undergrowth, I briefly recoiled as I was greeted by a macabre collection of about fifty skulls, artfully arranged upon a moss-encrusted altar. The heartlands of Bali were to throw up more than a handful of startling surprises along the way…

I was at the mysterious village of Trunyan, which lies cut off from the world, on the eastern shore of Lake Batur. The residents of Trunyan are the Bali Aga people, descendants of the aboriginal Balinese, who inhabited the island long before the Majapahit invasion in the 14th century. The Bali Aga sought refuge from imperialistic strangers by living in isolated seclusion, fiercely safeguarding their own culture through the conviction that they are descended from the gods.

The crescent-shaped Lake Batur is set within the gigantic caldera of a dormant volcano. It is reminiscent of a huge soup bowl with a serrated lip, a floor half covered in water and a set of volcanic cones – the volatile mass of Mt Batur – budding in the centre. At 1717 metres high, Gunung Batur is by no means Bali's highest volcano, but it is Bali's second most sacred mountain after Gunung Agung, and has erupted more than twenty times during the last two centuries. Tourists flock to the locality, now collectively known as Kintamani, to enjoy an Indonesian buffet lunch in one of the many panoramic restaurants that overhang the ancient crater rim, offering spectacular views of the mountain and the lake.

Not many people, however, visit Trunyan. Most are discouraged by stories of touts demanding extortionate boat fares that increase halfway across the lake. Tour guides from Kuta claim that taking tourists to Trunyan is more trouble than it's worth, generally proving to be full of unnecessary hassle and unreasonable expense for the visitor.

Most of the villagers are fishermen and sustenance farmers, growing cabbage, onion and corn in plots near the lakeshore. Despite their exceptional conservatism and resistance to change, a proportion of the younger men have had to leave the village in order to find work. By chance, I had met such a man only a week earlier. Wayan Pulen is a Trunyanian who lives in Kuta, where he works as a tour guide, returning to his village twice a month to spend time with his wife and kids. I felt very privileged when he invited me to visit Trunyan as his guest.

When we arrived at the lakeside, Wayan's friend was waiting for us with a boat. It was a calm, sunny day and the surface of the water was like glass, reflecting the steep slopes of Mt Abang rising sheer behind the rusty corrugated iron roofs of the village. The spectacular view of this green mountain backdrop and deep blue lake with Mt Batur to the east was a treat, as few get to see Bali's most active volcano from this angle.

Arriving in the village, I was received with a mixture of grace and curiosity. Not everybody returned my smile, but as Wayan's guest I was treated with respect; nobody – apart from a group of kids – followed us on our tour of the village, and nobody asked me for money. However, I was required to pay a fee to the head of the village for sanctioning my visit.

After introducing me to his family, Wayan led me past a massive 1,100-year-old milkwood tree in the centre of the village, and showed me the imposing 'balai agung', where the council of elders make their decisions. The weatherworn 'Pura Pancering Jagat', meaning 'temple of the navel of the world', stands under another huge and ancient tree – a banyan that is said to be over 1000 years old.

Secretive and protective about the customs exclusive to their community, the people keep hidden the 4-metre-high statue of 'Ratu Gede Pusering Jagat', the powerful patron guardian of the village. This megalithic statue is fiercely guarded and attributed with magical powers, and only viewed at the time of the temple 'odalan', the anniversary ceremony that takes place in Trunyan around the October full moon.

To this day, the people of Trunyan retain a social order aligned with prehistoric traditions: cremation is not practiced here. The village actually has three cemeteries: Sema Bantas – the burial place of those who have committed suicide or died in an accident; Sema Nguda – the burial place of children or other young people who have not yet married; and Sema Wayah – the kubutan where the dead are not buried at all! This shadowy cemetery is situated about 500 metres outside of the village, and is accessible only by boat. Here, the bodies of the dead are wrapped in cloth and simply left in bamboo cages on the ground until they have decomposed. Strangely, there is no stench due to the presence of the encompassing 'Taru Menyan' tree. The tree is believed to produce a fragrant smell, while its roots, buried deep beneath the bodies, bafflingly eliminate any trace of odour. Wayan explained that the cemetery only ever accommodates a maximum of eleven bodies at one time. When a fresh body is brought in, the bones of its predecessors are kicked away and the skulls placed upon the altar.

I was relieved not to find any fresh bodies on the occasion of my visit. I didn't stay long - a strong wind had suddenly blown in from across the lake, so I hastily returned to the boat and endured a choppy voyage back to more familiar shores.