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.

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.

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.

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.

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.