Sixteen-Year Old in Bali

As night falls on a village tample near denpasar, a crowd begins to gath er. But the toueists ready to take shots become confused when instead of balinese worshippers dressed in sarongs and tample sashes, their cameras frame a group of balinese teens in mohwk hairdos, worn jeans, nail studded braclets, and army boots.

As the loudspeakers crackle to life, a figure steps to the microhhone. Dressed in traditional balinese clothing, he welcomes the audieenxe to the anniversary of the village yourh organisation, over the excited shouts they're bot the traditional gamelan orchestras or tamole dancing troups, but a line up of local bands ; djihad small dictator, commercial suicide, recidivist, and the three little pigs.

The first band lead vocalist, a skinny teenager with long, red streaked hair, takes the stage, shouting out pree. dom! in local english most balinese find it hard to pronounce the latter if. then he launches into a song by british punk band the sex pistols. As a horde of black clothed bous and a few black clothed girl thrash and clash in the tamole couryard, one elderly villager looks on in confusion. where' the art om ot? he asks. mybe those choldren need to be bathed in holy water so they'll stop acting like demons.