A path runs deep between a range of parallel mud walls, with a man slowly walking along, carrying on his shoulder a bushel of green grass. Every thirty meters or so, the eye catches the same mud gate with the same decorated lintel. Hidden behind the walls of mud, one sees the red tiles of the various pavilions, with, northward, every thirty meters again, the same thatched puppet house: the family temple. From the eerie silence of these quarters comes now and then the barking of the dog or the cry of a children. Then, by the side of the path, a big tree is seen, two slit logs hanging from one of the branches, and a couple of shrines under the shade of the tree with, nearby, a large open pavilion: this is the Bale Banjar, the meeting place of the neighborhood community or banjar. Next to which is usually located the bedogol or small banjar temple.
Rice Fields
Balinese Rice fields: When one reaches the limits of the dry land area of the village, a green and shining expanse on the horizon meets the eye; narrow grassy dikes seem to be spread out like an endless carpet. The rice fields lie in between, square after square of glistening water. On each rice field, a small shine stands on a foot: This is the sang­gah cucuk, the shrine of the visiting Goddess of Rice, Dewi Sri. Then the glistening rice fields add to other glis­tening rice fields and the dikes to other dikes, down to a line of coconut trees, on the other side of the view. In the middle, next to what looks like a path road, the eye catch­es the low walls and thatched shrines of a temple, next to a clump of bushes and trees. this is the subak temple, the temple of the association of irrigation (subak).
While the banjar unites the various households of the village dry land area and organizes the life of its inhabi­tants, the subak unites its wet land and regulates the work of its tillers. Banjar and subak, thus, run the two basic aspects of the Balinese society: neighborhood life and agri­cultural life.
A third collectivity is important: the village. By two, five or sometimes ten the banjars grouped in desa (village), which constitute the territorial unit of reference. It has as such its three main temples: the village temple or pura desa, the temple of origin, the pura puseh, and the temple of the dead, or pura dalem. All these temples, as well as the subak and banjar temples, plus the kinship temples-and others-have their anniversary or festival each Balinese calendar cycle of 210 days. The life of the village Balinese, its agricultural, family, neighborhood life, is thus rhythmic by festivals; to which are added cremations, weddings, exorcism and the like. These ceremonies have to be organized, the temples where they take place guarded, and the offerings and decorations prepared. An enormous amount of collective work is taking place.

Collective Duty
The guard duty: "Kelor, do not forget to bring your wooden stick or machete to the temple," the banjar head had said with eagerness. Kelor was well aware indeed of what had taken place in his village. The shrines had been vandalized, and the pratima effigy of the Sesuhunan God, and an untold number of Chinese coins (kepeng) had dis­appeared. So, tonight, Kelor was on on guard duty (makemit) at the village temple. Among the members of his household, it is always he who takes over this function, as his younger son, a guide in Denpasar, always comes home too late, and too tired to take the job. But Kelor, anyway, enjoys being on guard duty. He can at least catch up on the local news with his old mates, in particular with that old Pan Kompreng, who is so well-versed in the Kawi language. And they are not the only guards. With them they are the men from the banjar East of the River, who guard the middle yard of the temple, and those of banjar Babakan, who are near the shrines, in the inner yard. They all guard the "gods' effigies" (pratima). Tomorrow, the gods will wake up, and stay in residence (nyejer) for three days, the length of the festival.
In the middle of the night Kelor is half asleep on his mat, when the beam of a torchlight pierces the darkness. it is the banjar head, who comes by to check out his men. "Hey, old Kelor, aren't you too cold tonight," he says while counting the number of men. "But where is Dabdab?" he asks suddenly. "He has no one to replace him, has he?”, he adds, while writing in his note-book: Dabdab, fine: Rp.500. Then he carries on his tour, checking right and left to see that everything is alright. He disappears again into the night carrying his light.
This makemit or guard duty is one of the numerious illustration of the organization of the Balinese social and religious life. Primus inter pares, the klian enforces the decisions taken collectively during the meeting of the neighborhood association. All rights and duties are pre­cisely detailed in the "banjar constitution", the awig-awig banjar and the decisions taken apply not only at the level of the banjar, and for the sake of the banjar itself, but also, as here, for the sake of a temple congregation or other vari­ous congregations and associations.
Another important aspect of Balinese village life is the relation between magic and religion: