"Yes, but only for a moment," I said, sitting down in the car after a languid lunchtime.

We had spent extra time waiting for our special order of local coffee, and were now running behind schedule. The next destination awaited us far on the other side of Denpasar. However, the island of Bali always seems to reward indulgences, and we began to wonder about the opportunity our local guide, Diana, was promising.

She had a friend, who knew a friend, who was a family member of one of the most prestigious Wayang Kulit puppet makers in the region. An earlier exposure to these designs and craft works in a local bazaar created some casual questions, and suddenly Diana was eager to modify our itinerary.

The pride for her local artisans was apparent, and now our vehicle was pointed in a direction opposite of the original plan. She was taking us to a studio and performance we had never seen before, and she started to clarify:

Wayang Kulit is a beautiful form of musical theatre designed around shadow and light. These romantic tales from ancient Hindu mythology are synchronized to the rhythms of the gamelan. Puppets cast shadows on a huge screen illuminated by candle or bulb light.

After the explanation, the afternoon sun and the oppressive local humidity couldn't contain our new enthusiasm. This opportunity couldn't be missed. Even if the daylight would deny us a proper performance, a visit to a master's workshop was intriguing, and after a short ride we arrived.

Ninety minutes later it was Diana tapping her watch and motioning for us to leave, now ridiculously behind our schedule.

"Yes," I nodded, while watching the construction of a brand new Sahadeva, "but one more momentŠ"

--Matt