At Long Last (Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this site, go here.

Bali at last. Upon arrival at the airport in Denpasar I immediately hopped a taxi to Ubud, supposedly the cultural hub of the island. Jet lag is fun. After arriving at my lodging I had intended to take a small nap and soldier on until nightfall. Nuh-uh. I crashed like a speed freak after a weekend in Vegas. It is 2 am and I am wide awake. Stellar.

A few observations. The group of tourists I arrived with at the airport was not at all what I expected. I guess I envisioned the twenty-something live free or die demographic. Instead I was presented with what I can only describe as the Eastern European version of white trash. Terrible I am.

No judgment as to character, only presentation. There was the woman in front of me with the tight-ass jean shorts (complete with little hunks of ass protruding from within) and a tank top. I had all I could do to contain my inner sexual beast. There were numerous males at varying stages of mullethood and females with hair that I’m fairly certain was never ever in style. Gold chains, wily chest hair, and manboobs all made an appearance. It’s like the whole trailer park won an all-inclusive vacation to Bali.

Eddie & Indo (Slideshow a la Indonesia)

Massage and Mackeral (Ubud, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this site, go here.

Today, I received a foot massage from a Balinese man named Wayan. My second hotel (Kebun Indah, still in Ubud) has a shop that sells various types of crafts and offers massages, reflexology, and what have you. It was raining and I had nothing better to do so when the woman working in the shop asked if it was a good time for a foot massage I thought, Is it ever a bad time for a foot massage? I guess I thought she would be doing the honors but it was her male coworker’s (Wayan) turn. It wasn’t bad but a foot massage is kind of like a tease for the rest of the body. I thought about explaining this to my new friend but I seriously doubt he would have appreciated the nuances of my humor.

Unfortunately, I did manage to get a full massage later that day. Now for those of you thinking shady massage parlor this is not necessarily the case. Health and wellness-type establishments area as common as souvenir shops in Ubud. From what I’ve read you can seriously pamper the hell out of yourself here. So far I wouldn’t know. When a gentleman outside one of these places said I could get a massage for roughly six dollars I thought, I’d be an asshole not to. What I did not realize was that I was about to be vigorously caressed by another man for the second time in one day, two times too many I should think. Perhaps, there is a societal taboo here against massaging members of the opposite sex (Author’s Note: Nope. Guess I was just lucky). 

So there I am lying on a table practically naked (except for some rather flattering paper tissue bikini underwear) getting oiled up by Indonesian male massage guy (I did not catch his name). Talk about relaxing. All I could think was, This needs to end NOW!! But it kept going, mostly because I rarely have the courage to hit the eject button in situations where misunderstandings might lead to hurt feelings. Basically, I did not want to insult the guy and felt the language barrier would prevent me from explaining myself effectively. I would be lying if I said he did not come dangerously close to the kids and I have to believe that the occasional brush of his elbow against my konker was completely inadvertent.  Please let that be true. Please.

No homophobia here. Gay As You Wanna Be! That’s my motto. However, a woman’s touch is just so much more relaxing. It’s like black licorice. I hate it. The very smell makes me want to vomit. Can’t do anything about it. It is part of my psyche. And so it is with receiving a massage. Nothing like a woman’s touch.

I am writing this from the Pundi Pundi restaurant. I ordered the garlic mackerel. It smells like smashed asshole. Yum.

My Balinese ‘Hog’ (Ubud, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this site, go here.

January 17^th, 2009 - I decided to rent a motorbike. This was not a decision taken lightly as riding through the streets of Ubud on one of these ‘hogs’ is akin to running across a four way intersection blindfolded. I believe in the existence of a twenty minute window of death. If you can get through the first twenty minutes on one of these bad boys without serious bodily injury you will probably be okay . . . . . probably. 

As I mentioned before adherence to traffic laws is not a Balinese pastime and it’s nothing for fellow motorbike enthusiasts to be driving down the wrong way of a one way street. (Author’s Note: It turns out that the ‘One Way’ designation only applies to larger vehicles, not motorbikes. Why would it?). It seems ludicrous until you start doing it yourself. Yesterday, I was getting passed by nine year old girls. Today, I was pushing Mach 1 (40 mph).

Leaving aside the learning curve it is actually a great way to get around Ubud. For the past day and a half I’ve been cruising all over and getting lost in the countryside. I met a kid on the side of the road who happened to be a guide. He took me for a short jaunt through rice fields down near a river and to his village. And yes, I thought it perfectly reasonable to go tramping through the countryside with a kid I met on the side of the road. Never mind the fact that I visited the ATM and had three million rupiahs in my pocket (roughly $300 US at the time). He did show me a large Banyan tree (one of the biggest trees in the world according to my new friend). It looks like a small forest of individual trees but is actually one organism connected by single root system. Many of the roots hang like vines from the branches and take hold once they reach the ground, so on and so forth until you have what appears to be many individual trees. Of course, he probably made that up to screw with me. I’d have taken a picture but like a doof I forgot my Nikon. Dumb.

Monkey Forest (Ubud, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this site, go here.

January 18th, 2009 - I went to Mandala Wisata Wanara Wana (or Sacred Money Forest Sanctuary to the layman) today. It is right in Ubud and is a bit of a tourist trap but it does have monkeys. Everyone wins with monkeys, especially when they are aggressive nasty banana/fruit hoarding little bastards. Inside the forest is Pura Dalem Agung (Temple of the Dead). Unfortunately, I did not happen to see any dead people walking around which is a real shame as I have a lot of questions. Maybe next time.

I refrained from feeding the monkeys as it is clear doing so turns them into raging assholes. However, if I was going to feed the little heathens I would sure as hell buy only the ‘official’ Monkey Forest bananas. Frankly, they are the only bananas I trust and, more importantly, the only ones the monkeys trust. Do yourself a favor. Do the monkeys a favor. Buy the official fucking bananas.

Bali Belly and o-BAMA! (Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this site, go here.

January 21^st, 2009 – Yesterday I was sicky-poo. Nothing too serious, just a slight feverish delirium punctuated with nightmares and bizzaro dreams. A little bit of weakness and a fair amount of diarrhea completed the circle. Better now but still a little weak. I have managed to avoid crapping in my pants, a significant achievement.

I went rafting (actually it was quasi- kayaking ) the day before last. No adrenaline rush there. Borderline Class II on a windy day. It was still an enjoyable trip down the river through the jungle. And there were the Russians, a raft with four of them cruising along in my general vicinity. At one point it turned into some sort of contest. In the end my two man kayak was too quick for their bulky raft but they did best me in a splash fight. Damn commies. One of the more comical moments involved my guide screaming, “U-S-A! U-S-A!” only to earn the reply, “RUS-SIA! RUS-SIA!” from the opposing guide. It then turned political when my guide started to scream, “O-BAM-A! O-BAM-A!’ which, of course, drew “PU-TIN! PUT-IN!” in response. The cold war is back. Brrrrrr…….

Speaking of Obama they love him here, as much if not more than in the US. He attended grade school in Jakarta so many Indonesians feel a fairly significant connection to the US Pres. I suspect he may even be more popular than their own president, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono (SBY).  Perhaps, his popularity diminishes somewhat outside Bali. I really wish I’d thought to bring an ‘Obama Rocks!’ t-shirt. I probably could have traded it for a vehicle or maybe even a pig.

I was eating breakfast on the veranda outside my room (at Alam Indah, my third hotel) the other morning when an audacious, if not insolent, macaque monkey emerged ninja-like out of nowhere, nonchalantly strolled up to my table, and removed a piece of fruit from the bowl sitting there. My screams of,”Heeey!! Get outta here!!” followed by a slew of threatening gestures did absolutely nothing to deter my little friend. It only served to make him fumble with the fruit a second longer than necessary and grimace with annoyance. He then went on his merry way as if he and I had established this routine long ago. Maybe if I had it to do over again I would tackle the fruit pilfering miscreant just to get his attention, although I probably would have found myself on the losing end of that wrestling bout. 

Gunung Kawi, Me, & Enri (Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this site, go here.

January 22^nd, 2009 - So I spent the day with a French dude. We had a lovely time. Encountering another solo traveler is not so common here. Lots of couples, families, and groups but loners such as myself have been few and far between thus far. I visited a few holy sites today to include Goa Gajah (Elephant Cave), Yeh Pulu, and Gunung Kawi. I ran into Enri (actually his name is Emorie but Enri just feels right) at Gunung Kawi.

I could bore you with inane details but let’s just say these sights are fairly ancient and that no one is quite sure what the hell they really are. At Yeh Pulu I had an old woman smile at me, compliment my sarong (I did look rather fetching), bless me with holy water, ask me for a donation, and then dismiss me as if there was nowhere else for our relationship to go. I felt used and dirty.  

A word about fees. At these sites they pretty much charge you for everything. I paid to park, paid an entrance fee, and paid to piss. One guy was charging people to fondle his python (reptile that is). I declined. Now all of these fees combined were less than a dollar but it really turns into a minor hassle as small denominations are sometimes hard to come by. Life’s a bitch.

I had a rather involved political discussion with a guide about the Palestinian-Israeli situation, not the first one I might add. The Balinese really like to stay current. I also had another ‘How-awesome-is-Obama-on-a-scale-of-one-to-ten’ conversation. If I get myself into trouble I need only scream ‘OBAMA FOREVER!” and I believe all will be well. I am so glad he was elected. He increased the ease of Americans travelling abroad by a factor of five zalliion (roughly). GOBAMA!!

A Peek at Mt. Batur (Bali, Inodnesia)

For an updated version of this site, go here.

January 23rd, 2009 - Yesterday, I went for a spin north on the motorbike to Gunung Batur. This is one of the numerous volcanoes on the island. Although I do plan to climb it at some point this was more of a scouting mission. I just felt like riding. On the way a local woman stopped me at an intersection in order to bequeath the requisite blessing and extort the requisite 10,000 rupiah. 

Afterwards, a gentleman on the side of the road informed me that I got screwed. Normally, blessings run 1,000 rupiah. Maybe I needed the more potent version. After all, my soul is ablaze with countless indiscretions.

It is the wet season which means of course that the tip of the volcano is frequently obscured. I did get a picture but it is not so crisp. You will also see the one of me on my hog. Born to ride. Born to raise hell (hence the necessity for the deluxe blessing).

I took a detour on occasion down roads that few tourist appear to venture and received the well-recognized ‘What-the-hell-are-you-doing-around-here?’ glances. Some rather cute little girls beguiled me out of a few rupiahs. Diabolical.  It was worth it as one of them graciously allowed me to snap a photo. Generally speaking, it is a terrible idea to hand out cash to anyone as it sets a bad precedent but they melted me like butter. I handed over less than a dollar but they were extremely appreciative. What can you do?

The whole area around the volcano is covered in lava rock. There have been numerous eruptions over the years, although I believe it has been some time since a major one.

Absolut Petrol (Southern Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this site, go here.

January 26^th, 2009 - Drove all over the south of Bali today. I would like to reiterate that driving a motorbike here is just a tad nerve racking. I am flabbergasted about the conspicuous lack of mass casualties on the roadways. Pleased, but flabbergasted. I think they start riding before they start walking. Imagine stacking your entire family (father, mother, two kids) on a moped and going out for a casual spin.

And you know you are good when you can negotiate traffic at 40mph while chatting on the cell phone or with four mattresses somehow rolled and strapped to the back. Or how about chickens, a food stand, or ten to twelve crates? Ain’t no thang.

How can driving the wrong way down the highway seem like a good choice? Are they intentionally playing chicken with whitey (i.e. me) or is it normal to come as close as you can to a head on collision before swerving? Dunno, but it sure gets the heart pumping. What do you do when there no actual gas stations nearby? Sell gas out of Absolut Vodka bottles, silly.

Balinese Tallywacker (Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this site, go here.

January 28^th, 2009 - Saw a Balinese man’s tallywacker today. Didn’t mean to. As I rounded a corner on my motorbike I encountered a man standing basically in the road going wee wee. It just so happened that as I came around my eyes rested squarely upon his junk. Awesome. Sorry, no pictures. I seriously wish I could erase the one in my head. Blaaaaahck!

Mt. Agung (Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this post, go here.

Jan 29th, 2009 – No trip to Indonesia would be complete without climbing a volcano. That’d be like going to Vegas and not dressing like a preacher before getting stupid drunk and gambling like an asshole. I lost my ‘Ring of Fire’ virginity on Mt. Agung, a still active stratovolcano located in east Bali. It is the holiest mountain on the island and, not surprisingly, the location of the most important temple (Pura Besakih). 

In fact, I was told that there was an important ceremony today at that very temple. It is constantly jamming and, if you can believe Wikipedia (I do implicitly making me an unapologetic wikiot), holds at least seventy festivals per year (a year being 210 days on the Balinese calendar). Mt. Agung is believed to be a replica of Mt. Meru, the central axis of the universe. In other words, Don’t F**K with Agung!

There are two routes up the mountain: the long arduous way beginning at Pura Besakih leading to the highest point or the lite version starting farther up the hill at another temple on the east side, Pura Pasar Agung. I was much more interested in the ‘pain-in-the-ass’ route but I was informed that it was closed as a result of the ceremony. Hindsight being that bastion of illumination I have come to know and love, I suspect I may have been told this in order to save a guide the trouble of going the hard way.

So the guide picks me up at 2 am. That’s right 2 am. The idea is to reach the top in time to watch the sunrise. Yes, the sunrise would be super but considering it is the wet season the likelihood is not so great. And everyone gets picked up at 2 am regardless of ability. I was thinking that since I am alone the going would be a bit faster and we could leave a bit later but who am I to protest? Nobody. One thing you will discover here is that catching the sunrise is of fucking paramount importance. Not attempting to do so makes you a douchbag….even during the wet season….when your chances are smack dab in the middle of slim and nuh-uh.

Mt. Batur - Part One (Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this post, go here.

Another day, another volcano. This time it is Mt. Batur, an active volcano on the northeast corner of the island. The current volcano is actually at the center of two much larger, older concentric calderas. From the air (i.e. aerial shot) it is possible to appreciate just how massive the older volcanoes actually were. The lake of the same name is located within the boundary of the biggest. In comparison Mt. Batur is just a little guy (or girl if you wish). I cannot fathom the type of geological event that gave birth to its ancestors. Welcome to Indonesia and its portion of the Pacific Ring of Fire.

A government organization controls all guided trekking on the mountain. If you hire a guide he/she must be a member of this organization. From what I have read some of its members can become a little ‘old school Sicilian’ with those wishing to make the hike sans guide. Apparently, they can show up at your hotel, wait by the trail to see if you are guideless, or even threaten people who refuse to hire a guide. I am not sure what they threaten you with as causing bodily injury would ensure no need for their services.

Mt. Batur Part Deux (Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this post, go here.

January 31^st, 2009 - I woke up this morning, took a look outside, saw the mountain was free of cloud cover and decided to give the volcano another shot, this time solo. I was a little concerned that I might encounter an angry mob of Balinese guides with torches and pitchforks demanding I hire one of them but it did not come to pass, thankfully.  Although I encountered two groups coming down as I was going up neither of the guides said a word.

Nyoman suggested a place away from the guide office to start the trek and that I should tell any discontents that I had already paid for a volcano tour the previous morning. Luckily, I had no problem. This was a great decision on my part and one of the best mornings I’ve had in a long time. As it turned out I had the volcano to myself. There was a woman near the top selling drinks and small snacks but besides her it was just I (unless you count the local monkey troop and the adorable doggy). And the views were excellent as the pictures will attest. I did have a minor standoff with Curious George and his crew but after a few threatening waves of a stick and some harsh language the tension dissipated.

I See Dead People (Trunyan - Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this post, go here.

The second half of the day was an altogether different experience. At the risk of sounding melodramatic I have to provide a warning about these next photos. Some of you may find them rather disturbing. 
On the previous afternoon Nymoan spoke to me about the people across the lake (insert eerie music here) who reside in the village of Trunyan.

The residents are reputed to be descendants of the Bali Aga, the original inhabitants of the island that predate the arrival of Hinduism. They are well-known for, among other things, their unique ‘burial’ methods, which is to say no methods at all. Bodies of the recently deceased are merely placed on the ground in the ‘cemetery’ to decompose naturally. The dearly departed are first laid within a bamboo enclosure and allowed to decay slowly.

When the process reaches a certain stage or if more space is required (I was told there is room for eleven bodies at a time in separate bamboo pens) the bones are placed in a pile adjacent to the enclosures until most of the flesh has rotted away and the bones are relatively dry. When all the flesh has dissolved they stack the bones in the designated area, lining up the skulls in a nice neat row.

The Russians (Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this post, go here.

Feb 1^st, 2009 - The Russians are following me. You may remember the quartet (two guys and two girls) from my rafting trip. I have run into them randomly on two more occasions since that outing. I am currently in central Bali (Lake Bratan to be exact) and last night they showed up at my hotel. I think they’re KGB. One of the females is trying to beguile me with her smile, lure me in, and kill me in my sleep. I’m sure of it. But I’m onto them. Maybe I’ll sleep under my bed just in case.

Danau Bratan & Pucak Mengu (Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this post, go here.

Feb 2^nd, 2009 – Spent the night near Bedugul and awoke early this morning to see Pura Ulun Danu Bratan, located on the shore of Lake Bratan. It is a famous temple dedicated to Dewi Danu, the Balinese water goddess. Pilgrimages and ceremonies are held here to ensure a steady supply of water for farmers all over Bali.  The temple is one of the most photographed structures on the island. I went early to avoid the onslaught of tourists. It was pleasant but it would have been nice to have a sunrise to go along with it. Damn the wet season. I blame Dewi.

Later, I went for what I thought would be a fairly easy climb up a small mountain (Mengu) running eastward alongside Lake Bratan. It turned out to be quite grueling and I doubt many people have been up that path in some time. Of course it rained and everything was wet and slippery but I did enjoy it none the less. At the top was a small temple, Pura Puncak Mengu. As I saw no one on the way up or on top it was actually pretty rewarding. The temple was covered in a light mist which when combined with the rain was a bit ethereal. Going solo made all the difference.

I am not the only occupant in my room. I left some food on the counter and when I returned some of it had been moved and some of it was missing. They took the pastry and left the peanuts. I am guessing rats, rats with discriminating tastes.

Tomorrow back to Ubud. No sign of the Russians.

Rainy Rain Rain (Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this post, go here.

Feb 4^th, 2009 - Today it rained . . .again. That combined with the general vibe permeating Ubud and vicinity is like having a constant flow of tranquilizers pumped into your bloodstream (Author’s Note: Doesn’t help that I was slightly anemic at the time). Naps are involuntary. I am attempting to work out my visa situation as I currently possess a 30 day visa on arrival. I could keep extending month by month here but that is a bit of a hassle and technically illegal. Looks like I will fly to Singapore and obtain a two month social-cultural visa from the embassy there. That is extendable for up to four months inside Indonesia. I should have obtained this visa from the embassy in DC but I did not know if I would be here for that long. I spent today trying to arrange this. Still working……

Tonight I went to a traditional Balinese dance performance known as the Kecak Fire Dance. It was interesting but like an idiot I forgot my camera. I will probably go again tomorrow. My schedule is fluid. 

Pura Sebatu & Kecak (Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this post, go here.

Feb 5^th, 2009 - Today I met up with Ketut again (see Jan 27th). He had offered to take me to a cremation ceremony and although I was hesitant at first my Bali Aga Death Extravaganza pushed me over the hump. I doubt this could be more morbid. Well, it didn’t happen. Apparently, there was a scheduling conflict with another ceremony so the cremation was postponed until Feb 14th. I am not sure I really understand that. Where is the recently deceased being stored?

Under a Banyan tree? How does someone not foresee the conflict? “Sorry, Wayan is just going to have to wait. The Harvest Spirit is pissed and we need to appease that ornery prick, pronto. We’ll torch your brother next week. Is the 14th good for you? Put him over there under the tree. And burn some incense, would ya?”

So instead I spent half the day hanging with Ketut. We drank coffee, ate a bit of lunch, and then he took me to a nearby temple for a look around. I am not templed out yet but I imagine I will get there. This happened to be a particular beautiful one so it was well worth my time. This particular temple was ‘functional’ as well. It has a badminton court.  Badminton is huge in Southeast Asia…..real huge.

Airport Journey (Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this post, go here.

Feb 6th, 2009 - Today was nerve-racking, to put it mildly. I drove to the airport on my motorbike so I could buy a ticket to Singapore (need a new visa). I suppose I could have bought a ticket in town (Ubud) from an agent but I decided to skip the middle man. Online you say? I could not access the website. Anyway, have I mentioned the traffic? The road to the airport runs through Denpasar, the capital of Bali. Let’s just say traffic is a tad dense. Perhaps sparing myself the stress would have been worth a few extra bucks. However, I will treasure the experience (not really).

Every time I ride that bike I see something that confounds me. As I was headed back to Ubud a young guy actually drove up alongside me and tried to convince me to go somewhere or purchase something. I wasn’t really paying attention as I was trying to avoid serious bodily injury and/or death. I’ve had people chase me down before but not while I was doing 30 mph. I contemplated pulling off to the side and asking him what the hell he was doing but concluded my consternation would fly right over his head. Certain truths I believe to be self-evident, truths that cross all cultural boundaries. One of these truths is the dangerous nature of trying to hold negotiations while driving 30 mph on a motorcycle through traffic. Then again, what the f**k do I know....really?

Eat, Pray, & Love Ketut Liyer (Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this post, go here.

Feb 9th, 2009 - Not all that much too report over the last few days. I have been basically planning my next move while flirting heavily with a possible motorcycle purchase. I came close to buying one but after doing research on the internet have decided against that particular bike. Apparently, there are reliability and safety issues. Sooo…no thanks. I may still opt for a brand new Honda Tiger. Grrrrrrrrrrr!! This is a popular Indonesian model. It is only 200cc so my pants will most certainly not catch on fire. However, that is about all the power you need here. Anything more is a waste.

Today had an interesting turn. I met a fellow by the name of Ketut Liyer. He is a Balinese medicine man, painter, woodcarver, and fortune teller (among other things). If any of you have read Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert then you’ve been introduced to him before. In the Bali phase of her ‘one woman search for everything’ she spent a great deal of time with this gentleman and wrote about him in her book. She did a rather impeccable job of describing him, most notably in her comparison to Yoda. His resemblance to the little green sage is eerie, both physically and in regards to his mannerisms. The only thing lacking is the signature reversal of sentence order indicative of the Jedi master.

When I arrived at his family compound (traditional Balinese setup) he was busy with some other clients. While I waited I looked over some of the paintings and carvings on display. I was a bit hesitant to just drop in. From what Elizabeth wrote in her book and what I was told by some locals and fellow travelers he is a famous healer in Bali. People come from all over to seek his counsel. So here I am showing up unannounced in hopes of an ad-hoc palm reading. A woman staying at my hotel told me that when she went it was set up by a friend and that she wore a sarong, brought a traditional offering, and even purchased one of his paintings. I guess I hoped that just the mere presence the Exalted Goofy One (that would be me) would be sufficient. Thankfully, I was not expelled. By this time he had achieved a degree of fame due to the book so apparently he was accustomed to folks dropping by randomly.