Sunday, June 30, 2013

Oh, what a night!

Another month has slipped by, although June was Cinta Bahasa month with every day concerned with language learning. We received our certificates, deserved or not, on Friday and will be maintaining contact with Winda on Facebook where she will communicate solely in Bahasa Indonesia. We have also vowed to continue practising whenever and wherever we can, including catching up at Mingle and attempting to converse with Alison's tolerant staff.

At the end of each month, our host usually puts on a buffet for his guests. It's a generous gesture that gives us a chance to chat with others who are staying here long term or short. So it was no surprise when the invitation was issued to be there last evening. It was a surprise, however, that it was being held a little earlier than usual (could we be there between 5.30 and 6) and was the dining area a little more beautifully decorated than usual?

Before I reveal more, I will say that a site that I like to visit from time to time is 1000 Awesome Things, a celebration of the little things that delight us but that we don't often even recognise until they are pointed out to us. The driver who acknowledges thanks for letting them in, peeling an orange in one go - that sort of thing. Now I can add: being unexpectedly part of a stranger's birthday party.

For the last couple of weeks we had observed quite a large Australian group here who seem particularly close to our host. He's an exceedingly friendly fellow, but there was something more going on here as before they came he mentioned that 'family' would be here soon.

Last night's feast, for it was a feast, was a celebration of a birthday. The woman concerned had known our host and his Balinese family since he was a small boy, and is still very close to his mother. What a night, as much a surprise to her as it was to everyone lucky enough be there.

Before the food was served, we became aware of a clicking and clacking in the distance, increasing in volume, and then about 50 dancers made a dramatic entrance and proceeded to perform a kecak dance. By now it was growing dark, and the singers and dancers were illuminated by burning torches set strategically on the lawn. As the story (part of the Ramayana) unfolded many other dancers from beautiful women to a white monkey, an elaborate garuda and a cackling, evil king had their moment.

The evil king turned out to be Made, one of Eddie's regular morning walk companions. We had become aware of his artistic inclinations only recently, but the visit to his Wayang Kulit performance last week will have to be the subject of another post. Wonderful stuff, and we thought that was all. But soon after we had indulged ourselves in free flowing mojitos, babi guling, smoked duck, delicious salads and about a dozen other dishes, Made announced that his son would then present a fire dance.

More drama. Swirling and twirling fire, bursts of flame from the mouth, and by this time it was inky dark, so all the more impressive. Happy birthday, Australian and Indonesian style, was sung, a few heartfelt speeches heard and a couple of extraordinary cakes consumed before a special celebration came to an end. The birthday girl was thrilled and we were delighted and felt utterly privileged to have been included. Quite a party. The 1001st awesome thing.






Saturday, June 29, 2013

Lempad of Bali

What are you going to do for six months? I've said this before, but this was the refrain from many people when we first revealed our Ubud plans. Well, there is no shortage of stimulating events to keep us more than busy. In the past week we have had something on every night. Last night, Friday, there was a choice of three events we could have happily attended. We have been attending the Flyday night quiz each week, and the table has been doing pretty well, but last week we flagged our absence as there was a one-off screening coming up of a 1980 documentary that sounded fascinating.

 Then, conflict. On Thursday night at the Bar Luna UWRF Festival preview night we discovered that a locally-based author would be talking about his book, and it is on a subject that interests us enormously, but so did the film's subject matter. With both on at the same time, a reluctant decision needed to be made. We might not get a chance to see the film again, but we could always read the book. Betel Nut and Lempad of Bali it was.

 The late John Darling was an Australian film maker and Bali aficionado who lived for many years in Ubud. When he died a couple of years ago, it was to the sound of the Balinese music he had come to love. In the 1970s he became very close to Lempad, a revered Balinese artist and architect who was producing amazing work even as a centenarian. Just do a Google image search to see some his unbelievable output. When Lempad died in 1978, he was 116 years old.

Asked by the family to film their patriarch's cremation, a huge affair given the status of the artist, John Darling quickly realised that the story needed to honour the man and his achievements in the context of Balinese history over his lifetime. The result was the film we were privileged to watch last night. We learned so much, particularly about the resistance to both the Dutch and Japanese conquerors of the island. We learned about the buildings in Ubud we walk past every day that were designed by Lempad, particularly the Palace, which the Prince of the time built to better rivals in other regencies. And we saw the art, which will be honoured in a special exhibition at Puri Lukisan next year. There is also a Lempad section in the Neka Museum.

If you love Balinese culture, or are interested in learning more, do seek out this wonderful film.

And what did we miss at Bar Luna? A talk by Richard Lewis about his book Bones of the Dark Moon, which explores the events of 1965 and 1966; the years of massacre. Until very recently nobody has been talking much about this terrible era, but writers are starting to tell the story. Another is Cameron Forbes, whose book Under the Volcano, looks at a broader bloody history of the island.

We were so sorry to have missed Richard's talk but will definitely be reading his book. So much more to tell about the week past, but it will have to wait.

So the question really should be asking if we have plans for a rest any time soon. We're not complaining.

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Bargain Hunt, part 2

Today was Sukawati market day. It's a bustling market about half an hour's drive out of Ubud and for quite a while this afternoon we didn't see any other western tourists.

Winda handed us Rp20000 each and we went in search of something to buy. Fortunately we stuck together and were able to help each other out as we tried to quickly translate and convert amounts in our heads. Foolishly, as it turns out, I didn't carry much extra spending money with me. Rather fancied a black lace blouse that the vendor wanted more than I had with me, and I couldn't bring her down. However, Winda is planning to return to the market on Saturday and with the money I have given her will try and do me a local deal. If not, tidak apa apa*.

Very pleased with my successful purchases though. The beads and fan are courtesy of    Cinta Bahasa's donation, and the pashmina cost a little more at Rp50000. The green beads cost another Rp10000, so all up that represents an outlay of about $8.50. Couldn't resist these beads - the green is perfect to go with several tops I am wearing up here.

We needed a tissue box for our room, so Eddie spent his money on that, having successfully reduced the price from Rp50000. Alison also bought some lovely beads, plus spent a little more on a fun painting for her cafe.

A good time was had by all, concluding with some delicious es kelapa** and Indonesian sweets from a stall.

* It doesn't matter
**Fresh young coconut drink
 

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Bola, bola, bola

On Sunday we wandered up to town to see if my football game was being shown anywhere. Watching sport in Ubud is a hit-and-miss affair, as it seems to depend on whatever the Australia Network chooses to screen. Sometimes I get to see my team, mostly not. I love my footy but follow a team that until recently warranted a mumbled name and a sideways glance of almost-apology. But we are doing pretty well this season and it's good to watch them play. The stigma lingers though. Recently we were talking footy with a guest here and when I disclosed my affiliation, she actually snorted! It was all I could do to refrain from asking if she had seen the ladder lately, where her (not greatly loved by anybody except their supporters) team is several places lower than us.

 If we really need to see a game on television we head to the coast where there is a greater variety of services. Sanur has several multi-screen sports bars and we usually go to Jimmy's which is comfortable with good prices. This is where we will go on Wednesday night so that Eddie can watch the second State of Origin game. But last Sunday there was nothing of interest on the screens of Ubud.

We wandered down Monkey Forest Road to Alison's other cafe, Maha. We didn't expect her to be in, but she was and kept me updated of the score via her laptop as we enjoyed a cool drink. Another win, putting us third on the ladder. Good result.

The football field in Ubud is a landmark; a prime piece of real estate that must remain immune from the development frenzy as its community worth is beyond rupiah. It is bordered by Monkey Forest Road and Jl Dewi Sita on the west and north sides, and a strip of cafes, community groups and the banjar on the east and south. It's rarely out of use, whether there are primary-aged boys training, informal activities or, as on Sunday, a major game.

The pitch is pretty rugged and often underwater, but when it is dry it is grassed, but stony and uneven. Players certainly put their skin on the line when playing there. As we walked back up from Maya we could hear loud music and saw that the street had been cordoned off with flimsy lengths of cord tied to the legs of desks spaced a fair way apart. Parking here is a bit like Paris - anywhere goes - but the temporary barriers had been respected. The entire field was surrounded with spectators, all having a great time. The loudspeakers were blaring catchy Indonesian tunes, including a soccer anthem that seemed to have the words 'bola, bola, bola. In.Do.Nes.I.A'. as the chorus.

It seems that we had hit half-time as both teams were in an informal huddle and the food vendors were doing a brisk trade. This was obviously quite a big deal.We were going to get a football game on Sunday, even if it was not the code we came for. With a great vantage point at Deli Cat cafe, some snacks and a bottle of bir Bintang, our afternoon turned out to be very entertaining.

We have no idea who the teams were, but tuned our ear into the loudspeaker to identify which numbered players were being substituted, and at the end we heard the score was kosong-tiga, so the home team did not score at all and the other team's goals were in the first half that we had missed. Was red or green the winner? Maybe next time we will know who to support. All very good natured, skilful and enjoyable. At the end the pitch was taken over by youngsters with remarkably good skills.

You can see why it is the world game, and I don't think that there will be any shortage of screens in Ubud showing the World Cup when it happens next year. Down the road from us there is a small futsal area with regular indoor games and we would really love to find a game of sepak takraw to watch one day. Amazing.

 Sport, like music, is a universal language.

 Bola. Bola. Bola. Indonesia.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Bargain Hunt

As we head towards the end of our first two months here, we wonder where the time has gone. But then we realise that we have been fairly restricted in the past few weeks. With our Bahasa Indonesia class beginning at 12.30 every day, there is only a small window before and after the lesson; time just to have a walk and a swim or go down to the Bintang Supermarket and pick up a few supplies, but not venture too far. I am also helping out a bit at the Festival office in the mornings. By the time we have done our homework after class  it's just about time for the evening meal and another day has passed. Then there's the social life three or four nights a week, but that's a whole other story.

Some of what we are learning is sticking but the real-world test happens on Thursday when we head for the Sukawati market clutching a Rp 20,000 note to see what we can buy with our new-found Bahasa Indonesia haggling skills. Or not. Not so long ago you could have said that the note would be equivalent to $2 but the falling dollar has chopped about 10% off our purchasing power. Eddie is after a ukulele (he'll be lucky!) and I wouldn't mind another sarong, so we'll see. Our teacher, Winda, will be coming along and hopefully she will bail us out of any predicament. Usually the classes go to the Ubud market, but the revamped pasar is so disappointingly dull that, as there are only three of us and Winda, we will venture a bit further afield.

One more week of classes and we are out on our own. Winda has given us a good foundation to build on and the rest is up to us. If we practise we should get there. Not fluent, but we will get by.

There is still so much to do and see in our remaining four months, some right here in Ubud. We still need to do a cooking class, see the white herons come home to roost at Petulu and visit the Gianyar night market. Further afield, Yogjakarta beckons as do the Gili Islands. And to see a komodo dragon would be amazing.

We are beginning to think that having our own transport would give us a bit of freedom. I am not brave enough for a scooter but maybe we will hire a car for a day or two to get a feel for driving conditions here.

And as if to tease me for even suggesting that things need shaking up, as I write this I do believe that we have just had an earthquake. A baby one, but a shaking and a rumbling nevertheless. Love this place. You certainly know you are alive.

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Recycling

Hurrah for Kue Bakery in Penestanan for this simple, clever answer to the ubiquitous plastic bag. Looks great, too.


I will write more about the pollution problem another time. Meanwhile, this is brilliant, OHS wouldn't allow it in Australia though. You can't even get fish'n'chips in newspaper any more.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Sometimes ...

Sometimes you just have to wonder. Whenever we are walking, local people never fail to smile, greet, and of course some will hope that you will need their taxi, eat in their restaurant or to buy something from their shop. Return greetings and even polite refusals are accepted, often accompanied by a joke. The Balinese appear to have a great sense of humour and we have been told by many that they like Australians because we laugh at the same things. But most (many, by no means all) of the Westerners we encounter in passing stare ahead grim-faced or lower their gaze, failing to acknowledge that we are sharing the same narrow, pathway or pavement. City or countryside, it's the same. No smile, nod or greeting in return for our pagi or siang. You have to wonder why they are here, as they don't seem to be enjoying themselves.

And how difficult is it to acknowledge someone who invites you to try their food, or stop for a drink? It's salutory to be sitting in a cafe close to the pavement as the young Balinese staff greet each passer by. They might as well be invisible. No acknowledgment nearly every time. It must be demoralising to be constantly ignored. It's not hard to smile, shake your head, say no in a pleasant way, give some indication that you understand that they are trying to make a living even if on this occasion you can't contribute to it. Yes, it is tiring to be asked every few minutes, but a little pleasantness seems to go a long way.

Fortunately Ubud is not Kuta so we are spared some of the uglier aspects of Western behavour including public drunkenness and the wearing of offensive T-shirts. Kuta has grown as it has in response to demand, pure and simple. A certain type of visitor demands this rubbish and you can't really blame anyone who wants to profit from it. But it has certainly degraded life on some parts of the coast.

Life is quieter here, but even so we have witnessed disrespect on a number of occasions: the singlet-clad young males who lounged all over a cremation pyre laughing and joking as they waited for the ceremony to begin; the motorcyclist who ignored the angry protestations of the pecalang* as he wove his way through another funeral procession when all traffic at both ends had stopped in respect; and memorably, the road rage of yet another motorcyclist who, in frustration at being stuck behind a small bus in traffic, spat at the bus in full view of passengers, veered onto the pavement and almost knocked over an elderly Balinese woman carrying offerings on her head as he sped off. The traffic here can be horrendous but it is negotiated by a language of horns and delicate weaving that seems to be intuitively understood. Road rage? Not a chance of it starting with a Balinese person. We bring our anger and lack of respect with us to the (usually) polite bemusement of those who live here. It is impossible to know the nationalities of people like these, but we are all diminished by their actions.

Sometimes you just have to wonder.

*There is an interesting article about the role of pecalang, seen in the photo above, here.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Walk on by. Not.

Things have been a little quiet on the blog front, if not in the real world. Having now taken on some voluntary work for Ubud Writers and Readers Festival*, along with the language study, the hours are flying past. And of course the social life continues to expand. To all those people who asked 'What are you going to do for six months?'. Answer: 'Plenty'.

Most nights we eat out, sometimes with other people, sometimes just us. We have a budget and it is not hard to eat (and drink) extremely well within our purse strings. Which leads me to Murni's.

I could not tell you how many times we have walked past Murni's Warung over the years. Oh, we knew about Murni - she is one of the original Ubud business women**, opening her warung twenty years before Janet de Neefe transformed the Ubud restaurant scene with Casa Luna.*** So why had we never eaten at Murni's before? Probably a combination of factors, including the ridiculous notion that 'if it's famous, it can't be any good.' So we have walked past many times, always headed elsewhere. Then, we thought. Why not? So we did.

Stop reading now if you have known and loved it for all the years we have been in denial, because as well as a delicious meal, we also ate humble pie. Murni's is located on the Ubud side of the Campuan Bridge. On the other side is the famous Bridges Bali and above is the new restaurant belonging to the Blanco Museum. So it is in distinguished company****. From the road, it is appears to be an attractive enough space, but gives no hint of the delights to come. Being located on the river, there is also a gorge. There is a glimpse from the entrance, but it tells nothing of the three, yes three, levels below. The room to request is on the bottom floor where you eat to the sound of rushing water surrounded by such lushness of vegetation that the Bali cliche of 'paradise' no longer seems a cliche. With an extensive menu, good prices, charming staff and this setting, what fools we had been to walk past. If you don't need to eat, the bar is situated on the road level, and it would be a great place to catch up with friends. Ah well, we know all this now and fortunately it's not too late.

Murni is a remarkable woman. As well as running her successful restaurant, she has travelled the world collecting antiquities, many of museum quality. Some are on display in the beautifully appointed spaces. You can read more about her and her guidebook to Ubud here. Don't be as foolish as were were and walk right past her warung.

As far as the language study goes, are we making headway? Maybe. We are trying our baby talk out on people and they remain polite. I think that the effort is appreciated. Friday's lesson was horrendous. All about numbers, which are my nemeses at the best of times. Trying to think out loud and say things like

Tiga ratus tiga puluh tiga juta tiga ratus tiga puluh tiga ribu tiga ratus tiga puluh tiga (I think). Meh, maths on Friday afternoon.

But really, it's no worse than saying 333,333,333 out loud and the grammar is easier.

* Early bird tickets are now available. Check the website.
**Another is Ibu Rai
***We were there on opening night. Such a long time ago.
**** On reflection, it is these restaurants that are in Murni's distinguished company.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Transporrrt?

It hasn't rained for a few days. Everyone was commenting on the length of this year's rainy season, predicting that it would go on until the end of June. For most of our time here we have had some rain every day. Never for long, not always torrential, and usually predictable. Mornings have started fine and sunny but by about noon banks of clouds started to gather with the downpour at about 2pm. Then, it's all over quickly, with the resultant humidity and running drains the only evidence.

But not lately, so maybe we are moving into a drier, cooler spell. At night now we even need a cover, which seems a bit odd in the tropics. June, July and August are the tourist months, because of the marginally cooler days, lack of rain and the northern hemisphere summer. The transport drivers can't wait. Each vehicle we take anywhere has a tale of woe, and we are always the 'only customers' for that day, no matter what the time. The tourists will be here in June they tell us. And the signs are that they are on their way. Unfortunately for the drivers, however, many are Chinese tour groups* and they come in buses. Big buses. Buses that barely fit in Ubud's narrow streets, and buses that take their occupants where they need to go. Transporrrt? Not for these tourists, which is a pity for the clusters of young men who are desperate for a few dollars. And a pity for Ubud. There is no place here for big buses.

*The Chinese provide the second largest number of tourists to Bali these days. After, of course, the Australians.

Monday, June 10, 2013

Climb every mountain

Eddie has gone to climb a mountain. This gives me a bit of time to update before we head off to class later in the day (and to do some study after a busy weekend). Or me to go to class, if he is not back. He and our host have driven for about 45 minutes into the countryside and will spend a couple of hours climbing to 1000 metres and coming back down again. Think it's one of the mountains we can see from our window, but certainly not Mt Agung, the sacred volcano. That is best done from 2am so that climbers are rewarded with the sunrise. Agung last erupted in 1963, and although there have been rumblings since, the gods appear to be fairly happy at the moment. The most recent trouble has been pretty serious wildfires last year.

When our commitment to classes in June finishes, Eddie and our host plan to walk back to Ubud from Kintamani (Mt Batur), a stroll of about seven hours. No shortage of walks for the dedicated. You can see the Batur caldera in the pic above, thanks to Wikitravel.

In the tradition of spontaneity that has become our social life, Saturday's quiz at Mingle (fun but no prize for us) led to an invitation to Sunday lunch at Villa Kitty. I have spoken before of the work that Elizabeth and her staff do to care for the abandoned kittens and cats, not just of Ubud, but from anywhere on the island. The work is pretty overwhelming and help is always needed. Help of the sit-and-cuddle-and-socialise-the-cats kind, or financial help. Professional local staff take care of medical needs, and at the moment the quarantine section is full as cat flu has taken hold. Current tally is 113 cats, plus a few dogs. If you are a cat lover who is coming to Bali and would like to bring supplies, get in touch with Elizabeth via the website and she will let you know what they require at any particular time. We are both animal lovers in general, but I do wear my catty heart on my sleeve. We can't adopt, but we will do what we can to help out while we are here. Not just at VK, we will look at other volunteering possibilities once we have finished language classes. The important tenet is that no Western volunteer should take a paid position away from a local person, so help can be as simple as cuddling a kitten, and that's not hard.

When we first arrived the rice plants in the sawah (fields) behind were green. Now they have turned yellow and harvesting and threshing have commenced. Genetic modification has increased yield for the farmers, but it has also changed the ecology. With insects no longer interested, the frogs are diminishing; when the frogs go so do the ducks. That means artificial fertiliser rather than duck poo. Four plantings a year, no rotation any more, higher yield, but how high is the real price? We read in Ibu Cat's book Bali Daze that experimental plantings of heritage rice strains are providing bountiful yields (much to the surprise of the sceptics) and the taste is infinitely better. White rice is ubiquitous, black rice is delicious, but at yesterday's lunch we had red rice for the first time, and that was amazing. So we will look out for the non-GM variety, pay a little more and hope that it catches on. I had no idea that the taste of white rice can be as varied as tea, coffee or for that matter, wine - depending on the strain. Learning every day.


Saturday, June 8, 2013

Study, study, study

It's been a week consumed with study and we have now completed a quarter of our 40 intensive lessons in Bahasa Indonesia. Can't say it's easy, although on Friday something seemed to click and the time flew faster than it had done. Reading and writing are a bit easier than speaking of course as there is time to flip through vocabulary lists and consider word order. But we have been practising our halting baby talk with everyone we meet and they are remarkably tolerant. The staff here have been very encouraging to the extent that we ordered breakfast yesterday entirely in BI. Eddie got exactly what he wanted, me nearly so. I slipped up on the eggs, but they were fine. Just not cooked the way I thought I had asked for so now I know. We've hit the weekend, but no letup. Homework and a couple of children's books to read, which fortunately are in three languages - English Basa Bali and BI. I doubt that we will ever be fluent, but we should get by. We are probably the oldest students that Cinta has had. It'll do for an excuse, anyway.

You know that you are fitting in when you run into people you know at the supermarket. It's happened a few times now and usually ends with an invitation to go somewhere else where you can meet even more people. We have found nothing cliquey about the expat community - warm welcomes everywhere. But it does mean more goodbyes than in the real world that is home. People are always jetting off somewhere else, but they do return. Last night we said a temporary goodbye to a woman who lives within cooee of our friends Jim and Khara in Colorado; we  have seen people off to New Mexico, Switzerland and Spain. All will return but maybe not while we are still here. We have learned about airlines that don't normally cross our minds. Who knew that Korean Air is so good - well, lots of people, just not us, as it's the airline of choice for many North Americans.

And the fun Friday nights continue. Flyday quiz night is now a calendar fixture. It's competitive, but funny, very good natured and the others on our team are great company. Tonight it's off to another quiz night at Alison's (our BI classmate) lovely cafe, Mingles. She has been convincing us all week of the merits of the espresso martini - alcohol and coffee in one hit. I'm there.

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Imigrasi

As we head towards the end of our fourth week here, it's time to start planning for visa renewals. The Indonesian visa system is complex, and quite possibly fluid. Rules seem to change without much notice. Holidaymakers from certain countries, including Australia, come for relatively short periods, so are able to queue at the visa desk and purchase a Visa on Arrival for USD25 cash. Apparently this visa is renewable for another 30 days but we have never tried to do this. Garuda Airlines carries immigration officers on some flights so that all the paperwork is handled on board, and passengers can proceed to the immigration desk without the queues, which can be extensive if several planes have landed in a short space of time. Nice service.

Last year we travelled on a 60 day visa, purchased at the Indonesian Consulate in Perth for AUD120. Again, no queues, but no renewal either. And it's 60 strict days from the date of arrival, not two months. If your flight lands at five minutes to midnight, tough. You've lost one of those days.

This time we have come on what is colloquially called a SosBud, or Social, Cultural visa that is valid for 180 days. When I say valid, the authorities are not about to miss out on revenue, so the first 60 days are covered, but this visa must then be renewed every month for up to four renewals. Renewing is a bit of a hassle, so we will use a Dutch visa agent who has been recommended to us to take care of everything. That will be another $80 a renewal each, but it's cheaper than flying out to Perth, Singapore, KL or Bangkok and organising another 60-day visa. A lot of people do, however, and enjoy a break between visas.

The SosBud requires a sponsor who is willing to take responsibility for you should you get into strife. We hope we don't let our friend down as he agreed to write the appropriate letter that we presented to the consulate to obtain our visas. That was a bit of a drama earlier in the year, as we handed in our passports but could not wait the four days to collect them. When we opened the registered package and looked at the visas the consulate had put them in the wrong passports. We didn't think Imigrasi would be too impressed with Eddie's visa in my passport, so it meant another trip up to the city* to sort it out. Eddie's was fine. They seemed to steam them off and reapply them. Mine, however was a mess. All previous visas bled into the paper, while the visa I needed was unreadable and had to be cancelled. So my passport now bears a cancelled visa that received considerable scrutiny from the young Papuan immigration officer.

You can get an overview of the Indonesian visa system here, but don't take it as gospel. As I say the system can change.

As an addendum to all this, there was another drama when we arrived. Facebook friends have heard this but it's worth repeating. We usually only travel with carry-on luggage, as we leave a suitcase up here. This time, however, we brought luggage that I packed and locked myself. It had briefly crossed my mind at the other end to shrink wrap the bag, but nah, what could possibly go wrong with a strong lock? When the bag came onto the carousel, I was horrified to see that the lock had snapped, the zipper was no more and the bag was secured only by a belt that someone had put around it. Our contents were clearly visible. There was a Schapelle moment of horror. Fortunately an official saw my distress and escorted us through customs. Nothing missing, nothing added that I could see, and the bag now disposed of.

Travellers beware.

* A five-hour drive


Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Selamat siang, or is it sore?

No, not sore, as in hurting, but pronounced 'soray. Both mean Good afternoon, but which one you use depends on the earliness or lateness of the day. Thus has begun our journey into the confusion that is Bahasa Indonesia. Get your kelapa mixed up with your kepala and you will have a coconut for a head.

So we have hauled our ancient legs up the steps to Cinta Bahasa (means Love Language, we'll see about that) and engaged our ancient brains.

The class is small, just three of us, with our teacher Winta, impossibly young. Our classmate, Alison, is already proving to be an excellent accomplice as we all bumble along together in this early stage. I suspect that she will sprint ahead as she actually lives here but I think we will have some fun along the way.

Armed with a workbook, flashcards, a computer program and Winta, surely we can do this?

Two hours down, 38 to go. I'll report our progress, or not, as we go along.



Monday, June 3, 2013

Not less, but differently gifted


As we walked down Monkey Forest Road on Saturday, a smiling boy pressed an attractive leaflet into our hand. Sekitar Gunung Berapi (Around the Volcano) was being performed by the children of Sjaki-Tari-Us over the next three nights. The leaflet, in Bahasa Indonesia and English explained that the performance was an amalgam of a contemporary Balinese fairytale and a well-known story from the 'sober west'. Given our newly busy social life, Sunday night had to be it. And so it was.


The tourist prism through which we have viewed Balinese people in all past trips has never included intellectual disability. Last night we witnessed a joyous performance by many such children and teenagers as they told the story of Ibu, her seven children, the giants in the volcano and the ravenous wolves.

Sjari-Tari-Us is a Dutch charity working with these children and their families with the motto 'not less, but differently gifted'. University students from the Netherlands spend short placements offering physical and, in this case, artistic training. It was a wonderful night, with a performance opportunity for everyone from the littlest to the oldest. Sjari-Tari-Us is not only for families, it clearly was a family.

When you know to look, it's hard to miss the space at the eastern end of the football field (past the Pondok Pekak Library) with its colourful signage and yellow exterior. A shop and a warung serving cheap and yummy food help fund the work, as do performances such as this. Take the time to support them if you are passing.

As we sat enjoying our nasi goreng and babi kecap, some of the children walked past high-fiving us, so pleased that their performance had been a success. And of course, Eddie found a friend. As he always does. One of those memorable nights.

 Bukan kurang, tetapi istimewa
Not less, but differently gifted.


Saturday, June 1, 2013

Selamat pagi

It's really disgraceful that, after so many visits to this beautiful island, we still don't have a handle on the language. Oh, a few phrases here and there, but pre-kindergarten at best. By language, I mean Bahasa Indonesia, the official language that unites this diverse Republic. The Balinese language, Basa Bali is based on an ancient Indian language with an altogether different script. No way in the world will we ever master that. To hear Balinese people speak, their tongues seem to curl as rapidly and as dexterously as the script itself.

We have read in a local publication that teaching Basa Bali in schools will cease next month. What can I say? Everyone here is fluent in both languages as well as the languages of tourism*. It will now be up to the family group to keep their language alive**.

So on Monday we start an intensive four week course in Bahasa Indonesia. The Cinta Bahasa Language School is just a few doors away and for two hours a day, for five days a week, for four weeks, plus homework, we will be immersed. Previous half-hearted attempts have failed so we hope that this longish term commitment will be more successful. I have terrible trouble remembering Indonesian vocabulary - words seem to fall into a brain-hole the size of the gaps in the Ubud pavements. So we'll see.

Basa Bali


*Including a growing presence of tourists requiring Russian. It's not uncommon to see menus in Russian these days.
**A related story about dying languages: when were in the west of Ireland earlier in the year we heard Irish spoken extensively. Again, fluency in both English and the native tongue. However at one stage we asked for directions from an affable looking chap, and as clear as you like replied that he didn't (might as well have said won't) speak English. A powerful political statement. Let's hope the Balinese won't have to fight for their mother tongue.