Bali-Ho

I have just returned to northern Illinois from 18+ months teaching in Seoul, South Korea. On my way home, I spent more than one month traveling around Southeast Asia. It was one of the best experiences of my life. Some of my notes and pictures from earlier in my travels are not currently in my possession, so I will storytell backwards starting with Bali, Indonesia (yet telling the week's tales themselves in chronological order). Some days are written more as letters, some are more journalistic style, others are literary in nature. I am trying to write not for anyone in particular, not even for me, but just to discipline myself to do SOMETHING, particularly related to a field in which I'd like to work.

Saturday, 3.26 Kuta Beach, Bali.

[Moleskin]
Are “fish roe” naturally an orange color? [EDIT: Wiki says “Yes.”]

Currently enjoying solo sushi after a lovely Indo sunset. I think I ordered enough for two people—grilled salmon teriaki dish and a “spider maki” roll—soft shelled crab tempura, avocado, and tobiko roll. No clue, really—the pic looked good! And a large BinTang to boot. Might finish with “kinako dofu”—a tofu-soya malt-brown sugar syrup dessert—simply because I’m intrigued! Also must remember to try Bali red rice.

Traveling alone isn’t as fun, but it will afford to opportunity to do a bit more creative photography and writing. I hope. I bought candles in hopes that I’ll be inspired to write later. If only I had wifi in my room; I simply couldn’t find a place with it today. Only the super expensive places had it. Traveling in Asia’s been good—a good way to acclimate myself out of Korean culture as well. I can get away with making small social taboos because I’m a tourist and more than that—an American.
I’m always embarrassed but try to adapt and learn quickly. I want to make my travel time count. It also helps lose some of the pride and ego to have to depend on others and to learn from them all the time. I hate the fact that I have an unearned ego…relationships and people sure teach you a hell of a lot, I guess.

[introspective rant and sentimental blah deleted]

The sunset tonight was gorgeous, despite the TRASH that is Kuta Beach. Agoda misled me and told me my Lovina Beach hotel was a short pickup from the airport, but the taxi drivers laughed in my face upon arrival in Denpasar—apparently Lovina’s a three hour drive! So I ended up at nearby Kuta: rife with mid-day drunks, slovenly Australian surfers, and persistent vendors hawking things in drastic English and grating tones. My room was difficult to find and is a hovel: the beach itself is a disaster. Surprisingly covered in trash and hawkers who WILL wake up sleeping sunbathers to ask if they need massages or bracelets or bow and arrow sets. Why yes, on second thought, perhaps I’ll take the latter. It might prove useful here.

But the sunset was calming. The cute kids and couples came out at this hour, and the elaborate kites for which Indonesia is somewhat known flew magically in the rosy haze.
Sunset beachwalking always reminds me of Becca because that’s usually the time of day when we’re at the beach together. She always works so late (although now that I’ve worked at POLY my relative time viewpoint has changed) and by the time we fight traffic to the coast it’s so late. One of my starkest California memories is the night we went to the Ivy in Hollywood. We splashed in the waves at the Santa Monica beach, then sandy and hot we got dried and changed in her car on the way to our reservation. It was a fine evening: we had lobster and various delicacies; I drank Perrier, she had a mojito. Looking back, we were both so young—so young to be doing such sophisticated and expensive and exciting things. When we went home and stopped halfway up her mountain at the lookout to see the city at night: lit up and sprawling, low to the ground and calming. But this is why I like Becca: she is exciting and challenging, and I think everyone needs a Becca in his/her life. Honestly. Directly and indirectly, she has taught me many things about life and taking advantage of it. I’ll miss traveling with her.

But I digress.

Compliments to the chef—this dinner is wonderful. Exactly what I needed and, shamefully, it looks like I’ll finish it all. Ryoshi Japanese –the place is empty but it shouldn’t be. I’m sorry to see the meal coming to a close.
“Your ass brings nothing negative to mind/I’m glad we’ve come together again…” …hahaha really? The only thing Ryoshi should change is its music selection.


Sunday, 3.27 Kuta Beach, Bali

Dear S.,

MiniMart makes the best pub. Free wifi, friendly people on the porch, a cooler full of beer and icecream, shelves full of snacks. There’s a bottle opener embedded in the tree outside, and 4 heavy wooden picnic tables are full of rollicking comers and goers.
Got up this morning and was too tired to run on the beach, so I decided some pick-me-up was in order. I found a café a flew blocks away with decently priced coffee and free wifi. It seems nothing is cheap here because it’s OVERRUN with Australian (mainly) tourists, so of course it’s lots of Western-focused food, crap, and salespeople. UGH.

But a pleasant hour and a half later, I hit the street to book a trip north where it’s quieter. I had a friendly chat with the two girls probably around my age who were running the bureau, and we ended up making a deal so I could go horseback riding today and do an all day stopping tour up through the island where it’d drop me off at Lovina Beach on the north coast (where my original hotel was booked) for $80 total. A bit pricey, but I bargained as hard as I could, and it seemed fair for the tours, and tomorrow’s includes food/drink. I made sure the tours had booked other passengers as well, because I didn’t want to end up solo.

I wandered around a bit more, bought a book and chatted with the booknook vendor. With only an hour left til pickup for the horseback riding, I took a shower (the buday has so much more pressure that I’m using it…never thought I’d see the day! Thanks for leaving me with the toiletries, too). I settled in my porch chair to read “The Reluctant Fundamentalist” and plowed through about fifty pages til I met my ride.

5 Aussies were supposed to join the group and we drove across town to pick them up. On arrival, however, the driver glanced them over and handed them a card stating that passengers weighing more than 95 kg woulnd’t be allowed to ride. It wasn’t his fault, it was the agency’s, but the Aussies were pissed because of their group of 5, 4 were overweight (none could have been much taller than 5’6” btw, either) except the boy, who looked like he was about 10. So they called the company to complain and get a refund, and I said I wouldn’t go if I had to go by myself, but the company promised that 20 others had signed up, and it wasn’t raining on the coast. So the driver, who was friendly but barely spoke/understood English, drove me over an hour while I alternately watched the scenery, attempted to chat and laugh with him, and read my book.

Even so, I ended up riding solo with my guide. His name was Kisnawan, and he used to be a jockey in Java. He was super tiny, super friendly, and spoke great English, so we got along very well for the 2.5 hour tour. While riding along the black sand beach, he told me all kinds of things and pointed out interesting sites. We went to a creepy bat cave FILLED with fruit bats to a disgusting measure, saw a temple, rode through a small village, and he taught me Indonesian phrases to say to the villagers. It was an afternoon of smiles and just what I needed. One thing I have learned during this stint in Southeast Asia is that there are few things more wonderful than a face breaking into a smile. Simply a smile, yet so rare on busy streets of Seoul or New York or even Chicago, especially in the winter. Here, smiles come as many as you give, and then some.
Being on a horse after so long was good, too. We didn’t canter, only trotted and walked, but we were on the beach so it was ok. And we forded some pretty big streams which was so trippy! Riding a horse while the tide comes in/goes out, and then while fording a monstrous stream nearly to my waist (while riding!) was cool.
The temples here are myriad: large, dark, dooming—like Asian Gothics. All of them have mossy statues of the five main Hindu gods, and most have pillars or ledges where daily offerings are placed. More than once, I observed cats and chickens making efficient use of the rice, crackers, and flowers—I wondered what they do with the incense and cigarettes. Some of the temples actually had the inverted swastika; the Buddhist symbol of love, but Kisnawan told me that those symbols were merely decorative and didn’t indicate that the temples were Buddhist. Kisnawan also told me that around Bali, as in the village we bypassed, generations live together in multiple small buildings surrounded by a walled courtyard and including the family’s own temple, thus the myriad amount, and their private, almost ominous presence.
I got back and showered, then set out in search of food. Kuta is dirty, noisy, and simply OBNOXIOUS: filled with arrogant Australian tourists and millions of annoying vendors calling out, “Transport? Transport?” and “Buy something, darling?” One funny guy with huge dreds stopped me as I walked by and I chatted with him and his travel agent friend for several minutes until I said I had to go, and they offered me two tubes supposedly of meth and coke. Even though I didn’t necessarily believe them, I said no and immediately left, ignoring their pleas to stay. Good thing I did: a block later I ran into some polisi, and later found out that drug users face DEATH penalty in Indonesia. Can you believe it?

I found some fantastic street food: "babi guling" ("suckling pig") and the lady who served it as well as the couple crouched next to me on the small plastic stools were impressed that I enjoyed the spice. I devoured the entire plate, then spent an hour trying to use shitty wifi at the Mini Mart while it rained.

Now “Land Down Under” blares from the speakers of the undoubtedly Australian hippies beneath me in this steamy guesthouse. I’m engrossed in this afternoon’s book purchase, so much so that I will probably finish it tonight (it’s an easy and not-too-long read anyway: "The Relunctant Fundamentalist." Quotations to follow.

Love, peace, etc.
--R.