Bali, Again

NOTE: This is somewhat of a repeat post. I forgot I had already written a post about Bali and didn't realize it until after this was done. Enjoy the similarities and differences, or ignore it altogether. It's the same thing, written a month later.


My first impressions of Indonesia were that it's not as crowded with people as I was expecting. From the plane I could see the roads and there was barely a car or motorbike on them. Even the airport was calm and quiet-a big difference from the throngs of taxi drivers, porters, tour operators, hotel owners and scam artists that congregate in airports in other parts of the world. In contrast though, real estate is at a premium and buildings, shrines, houses and Hindu temples all run into one another. Even the sidewalks are too narrow to comfortably pass someone. On the way to Ubud it never seemed like we left town and entered another. Hoses, shrines and concrete companies making Hindu statues lined the road the entire way. There were only a handful of rice paddies that gave a glimpse of open space beyond the street.

Bali isn't as pretty as I was expecting either. Maybe I'm in another jaded backpacker's mood where I can't see the sun setting past the penis-shaped bottle openers or the T-shirts plastered with profane slogans in storefronts. I think I'm a little sad about still being injured too. That's the main reason I came to Ubud. I suppose Kuta would be okay if you were to spend your days at the beach, but I couldn't get in the water let alone lay on the sand. So if I'm not going to enjoy the beach, I may as well stay away from it. At least until I heal up.

Indonesia is cheap! That's wonderful news considering my current financial position. I've acclimated well and now have trouble justifying a $5 steak dinner. Yesterday I even turned down a $4 massage, then spent the rest of the afternoon wondering why! I believe when my arm heals up I'll get a massage. That will be my reward.

Hindu shrines are everywhere in Bali. They are in the streets, in department stores, small shops, homes, beaches, in the rice fields-as I write this, one hangs above me on the wall in the internet cafe. People place neatly arranged sacrifices throughout the day in little bowls made of woven palm leaves. They usually have rice, flowers, incense and a sweet, like a couple crackers or a piece of candy inside them. People put them on the shrines, in holes in walls, on the beach, on the sidewalk and on vehicles too. It makes me wonder how much time is spent making, preparing and giving these offerings. That's what I thought of Gunung Kawi too, how much time was spent carving it?

Gunung Kawi is a temple carved out of the sides of a small river valley north of Ubud. I rented a motorbike and went to see what I could see, the temple was my goal but anything would be better than stepping over dogs and turning down offers of "Transport?" every thirty seconds around town. Once out of town, houses don't grow so closely together and gaps between them offer views of beautiful green terraced rice fields. This is what I came to see!

After a few missed turns and wrong directions I arrived, paid for parking, bought the obligatory sarong and made the obligatory donations and made my way down the stairs into the valley. A series of statues and rooms are carved out of each side of the valley. I walked around, took a few pictures and made my way back up the stairs declining offers of cold drinks from the vendors lining the stairway until I was sweating and breathing so hard I couldn't refuse.

Soon I was off to another location where I'd heard was a pretty lake. I never got there because it started raining. I sought refuge in a little street kitchen and waited out the rain over some chicken and noodles. After nearly an hour, two more travelers came in from the rain. I was desperate for company and welcomed them in as if it were my own store. Olivier is from France and Handa is from Sumatra. They both live in Bali now, Handa teaching and Olivier "looking for a job." We talked for hours in that place about everything from blond jokes to international politics. The rain never stopped so we eventually had to go out in it. They both stayed with me that night in Ubud since it was too dark and rainy to continue to Denpasar. When they heard it was my birthday the following Saturday, they insisted to arrange everything and take me out for the weekend!

The next morning Olivier and Handa rode off to Denpasar and I went to my Indonesian language lesson. I had paid for three private lessons on consecutive days. The first day was inspiring, I felt like I could master the basics of the language within my short time in Indonesia and I thought of all the doors that would open up. The following day my sponge of a brain had absorbed all it could and I didn't have time to study before my last class the next morning. My teacher patiently went over the concepts we hadn't learned yet and told me to study them later. This led me to revive a thought I've fought with and milled over in my mind during the last few years; If making friends, learning languages and experiencing culture-host country culture-is what I want to do, then maybe I should whittle down my itinerary to the fewest locations possible and become part of a community by studying the language intensely and studying another aspect too like dance, martial arts or find a job or volunteer position. Then spend one to three months in those few locations instead of a week here and a few days there.

I can see great benefits from doing something like that and I think it would be insanely rewarding but another part of me wants to fill up that passport, wants to see everything and do everything. As bad as I am at saying goodbye, maybe I shouldn't stay too long anywhere, but what would Costa Rica, Equatorial Guinea and Rockhampton be to me if I'd only stayed there a week? Decisions, decisions, and what will become of them? I feel like my life is a "Choose Your Own Adventure" book and I'm torn between turning to the next chapter, going straight to page 253 or putting the book down altogether. Somehow though, I doubt any of my readers will feel sorry for me!

Bali, Indonesia

Bali was not what I expected. I was expecting it to be loud, dirty, overcrowded with traffic but also stunningly beautiful. When I got off the plane the airport was nearly empty, outside the street was quiet. I was expecting throngs of taxi drivers, porters and hotel owners bidding for my patronage. Instead I got a nice quiet bench beside a neatly manicured garden to sit down at. This might not be too bad! Then I went to Kuta.

The popular beach town of Kuta is loud, dirty, overcrowded with traffic and stunning, but not necessarily with beauty. Vendors constantly call out their promises of a good price, a morning price or a good-luck price if you would just take a look at their wares or buy a massage. To call them persistent would be an understatement. Several times they would grab my hand or my arm to pull me into their shop. This is where the motorcycle accident paid off as I would feign immense pain as I clutched my arm and showed my bandages. Apologetically they would let go and leave me alone, embarrassed they had hurt me. Smitten that I'd avoided one hard sell, I would perform the act all over again several times within each block. Crossing the street is not to be taken lightly here as taxis quickly jam together and motorbike drivers weave in and out of the cars. I stayed at a hotel right beside the Bali bomb memorial. I believe it was in 2004 when Muslims from nearby Java planted a bomb in a popular nightclub here killing several people from all over the world.

The Balinese are predominantly Hindu. You can't throw a rock in any direction without it going over at least one shrine or temple. They are everywhere! Next to houses, businesses, rice fields, inside homes and businesses, even taxis and buses! Daily offerings are placed on the shrines usually consisting of rice, flowers, fruit and sometimes money or candy. Incense is also very common. The smell permeates the streets and shops.

There isn't much to do in Kuta other than shop, party and play on the beach. I'm not much of a shopper and I didn't feel like cleaning sand out of my cuts everyday so I decided to leave town and head to the "cultural" town of Ubud. Maybe I'm not up to date on Balinese culture but Ubud is a tourist town. It's nice, there are several art galleries, boutiques, restaurants and who'd have guessed... temples. It's quieter than Kuta and seems to draw a more relaxed, if not older, crowd of tourists.

I stayed a week in Ubud studying the Indonesian language and exploring the area. One day, I rented a motorbike to go visit a temple recommended in my guidebook. Gunung Kawi Tampaksiring is a temple carved out of the sides of a small stream valley. On the way there I passed a valley of terraced rice paddies. It really is a sight to see! After visiting and taking a few pictures I headed north to see what I could see but it started raining! I pulled into a small roadside food stall and tried to wait it out over some mie goreng, noodles with vegetables.
Not long after I finished two other people came in out of the rain. When they drove by I'd hoped they'd stop and that they also spoke English. Success! They stopped and came in to have something to eat and wait out the rain. Olivier is from France and Handa is from Sumatra. They are friends and they are living in Bali now. We had a great time talking about everything from blond jokes to United States politics and whey they heard it was my birthday soon they insisted that they arrange everything and I come to Kuta for the party. Wonderful! They stayed with me in Ubud that night since the rain never stopped and it was getting dark, and left early the next morning.


One of the main sights in Ubud is the Monkey Sanctuary. Being a fan of monkeys I decided to go visit and see the little guys... I no longer like monkeys! I've never seen something so little strike fear into the hearts of more men than I did that day! There are hundreds of monkeys in the forest and many times I found myself surrounded by them. Pretty cool huh? Yeah, until they start fighting and screaming and demanding you give them whatever is in your hands with their fangs showing! I decided to enjoy them from a distance, and watch non-suspecting tourists go through the range of emotions from excitement, nervousness and then fear as the monkeys approached, climbed on them and then started pulling at bags, purses and water bottles. That was a much better way of enjoying the sanctuary!