landowners and Communists in recent years vanished from their homes, which were frequently burned, and nobody now inquires too closely about what disposition has since been made of their properties (Hanna 1972).

In spite of these sweeping events, Tabanan today reveals few signs of thoroughgoing change such as those visible in Denpasar, the Balinese provincial capital and center of tourist trade. True, there are many repair garages behind the walls of traditional Tabanan houseyards. On the site of the old children's cemetery stand Chinese shops, and across the road a power plant sporadically transmits electricity to a few bulbs in nearby offices and houses. There is even a cemetery for national heroes on old lands of the exviceraja these gravesites for veterans boast permanent tombstones which eventually wilt only mark where their occupants, exhumed and cremated, once reposed. Yet even then, in a peculiar Bah-Hindu accommodation to national militarist ideology, widows will persist in leaving offerings at these vacuous epitaphs. Such tokens of modernity, however, in themselves indicate little radical social change. In fact Tabanan in 1972 appeared less progressive than it had a decade or two earlier, since its current leader had neglected improving roads and hospitals for the sake of reconstructing and revitalizing the desa temple complexes,

Still, here and throughout Bali one senses persistent rumblings threatening more precipitous transformations of life and society, literally in the island's continued volcanic activity and possibly, too, in the rising tide of tourists that in 1972 were rapidly overspilling the confines recommended by international teams of planners