Turning Balinese, Part 1
We arrived in Bali a couple of days ago, though I think maybe I arrived here (at least in my mind) a few years ago. Soon after I moved to Hawaii in 2008, I began wondering about this strange Bali place after my roommate mentioned it was a prime surfing destination. Now, I had never picked up a surfboard in my life (and still haven't, shockingly enough) and had not an inkling where Bali even was on the map. Indonesia, you say? No clue. I just knew that it was somewhere far, far away. But Bali was forever imprinted on my mental map way back when. I had no idea how or why I would eventually go, I just knew that it would happen when the time was right.
Now, two years later, I am here in that place that once seemed so far away. My first glimpse of this island nation is from the airplane. I was awakened from a fairly sound sleep by an imaginary tapping on my shoulder. Melina, our tour orchestrater, had arranged for me to have a window seat (of course she did), knowing that I had wanted to come here for some time. I groggily check out the scene below, and a huge smile washes over my face. There you are, Bali. And you look beautiful from 20,000 feet.
On the way to our resort in Ubud, I make my first observation about Bali: it is an assault on the senses. Driving through lush tropical jungle surroundings, there is nothing but shades of green as far as the eyes can see. The air is scented with a heady mixture of incense, campfire and jungle funk. And then there are the streets, which are crowded similarly to Bangkok with that moped/auto mishmash, but without the anything-goes mentality. It is ordered chaos instead of complete insanity. We stop occasionally on the way to our final destination, and each time people crowd around our van trying to sell us whatever they can. Newspapers, wood carvings, flowers, food. Anything. We settle on some puffy sesame seed-covered pastries which are still warm, and which harbor a little cheeseball surprise inside. Strange, these little morsels, but I could probably eat them every day for the rest of my life.
Now a word about the money here. It is called rupiah, and basically 10,000 of these things equals $1. I immediatly wonder (and am still wondering) why the heck there are so many zeroes in this currency? So even though taking 1 million rupiah out of the ATM makes me feel like I'm the king of the world, the crown falls off my head when I do the math and remember that it is really only $100. And walking around town here reveals how difficult it may be to hang on to this zero-laden rupiah. The same beggars/salespeople who ambushed our tour bus happen to be everywhere, selling their wares for ever-descending prices. I learn quickly not to make eye contact with them which enables me to stride through rivers of these cat-callers, sort of akin to Moses parting the Red Sea.
Yes, people all over this island are eager to sell you whatever they can. But as we pass endless storefronts full of freshly-carved wooden trinkets, stone statues, and gorgeous furniture, I begin to see why so many artists are drawn here. These people are creative to the core. It is encouraged here at a young age, if the number of waist-high artisans at work on this day are any indication. It seems to be in their blood.
What else? Well, there are lots of places to get a massage here. I stop to get my fifth(5th?!) massage of this vacation (which by the way is barely 10 days old) while strolling along the main road in Ubud. I don't really feel like I need one, but hey, it is only 65,000 rupiah for one hour. That is about $6.50 or so. Count me in. I start to realize that I am becoming a bit of a massage glutton, mostly because, well...I can be. It is so cheap, and I have not had a bad one yet. It reminds me of when I was a teenager working at McDonald's. Our location would have "Cheeseburger Thursdays", and those delectable little hockey pucks would be on sale for 49 cents each. When customers would hear that they were so dirt cheap, their hunger would suddenly increase at an alarming rate. Example:
Customer: I'd like a cheeseburger.
Me: Sure, By the way, did you know they were only 49 cents each?
Customer: Really?! I will take ten!
And so it is with massages in this part of the world. Now, I am always ready and willing to be massaged. I have often joked that I would pay someone to follow me around and rub me on command if I had enough cash to throw away on such a luxury. All it takes is some spare time and the mere suggestion of a massage to convince me that yes, I should be up on that table once again. And when one session is less expensive than an average meal back in the states, well.....that is all I need to know. Boom, there you have it. Massage gluttony. It's like an all-you-can-eat buffet of relaxation.
Last but certainly not least, I take notice of the Balinese people themselves. Our first-day tour leader, Yeoman, has a smile at least a mile wide, and a twinkle in his big brown eyes. He is ready and willing to make our stay here as enjoyable and comfortable as he can. He speaks enough English to get by, and often repeats things that we say with laughter ("haha, massage gluttony, haha!") Milling around this charming town, I see the same gracious smiles everywhere, and yes, this even includes many of the beggars/salespeople. There is a gentleness here. Maybe it is partly a result of living in such incredibly beautiful surroundings. People just seem to be at peace with life in Bali. And that creativity is on full display everywhere, from the ornately carved statues to the sublime Balinese dancers we saw on our first night here. This place pulses (ever so gently) with life. I cannot wait to see more. And I still have four more days.
Get ready, senses.
Now, two years later, I am here in that place that once seemed so far away. My first glimpse of this island nation is from the airplane. I was awakened from a fairly sound sleep by an imaginary tapping on my shoulder. Melina, our tour orchestrater, had arranged for me to have a window seat (of course she did), knowing that I had wanted to come here for some time. I groggily check out the scene below, and a huge smile washes over my face. There you are, Bali. And you look beautiful from 20,000 feet.
On the way to our resort in Ubud, I make my first observation about Bali: it is an assault on the senses. Driving through lush tropical jungle surroundings, there is nothing but shades of green as far as the eyes can see. The air is scented with a heady mixture of incense, campfire and jungle funk. And then there are the streets, which are crowded similarly to Bangkok with that moped/auto mishmash, but without the anything-goes mentality. It is ordered chaos instead of complete insanity. We stop occasionally on the way to our final destination, and each time people crowd around our van trying to sell us whatever they can. Newspapers, wood carvings, flowers, food. Anything. We settle on some puffy sesame seed-covered pastries which are still warm, and which harbor a little cheeseball surprise inside. Strange, these little morsels, but I could probably eat them every day for the rest of my life.
Now a word about the money here. It is called rupiah, and basically 10,000 of these things equals $1. I immediatly wonder (and am still wondering) why the heck there are so many zeroes in this currency? So even though taking 1 million rupiah out of the ATM makes me feel like I'm the king of the world, the crown falls off my head when I do the math and remember that it is really only $100. And walking around town here reveals how difficult it may be to hang on to this zero-laden rupiah. The same beggars/salespeople who ambushed our tour bus happen to be everywhere, selling their wares for ever-descending prices. I learn quickly not to make eye contact with them which enables me to stride through rivers of these cat-callers, sort of akin to Moses parting the Red Sea.
Yes, people all over this island are eager to sell you whatever they can. But as we pass endless storefronts full of freshly-carved wooden trinkets, stone statues, and gorgeous furniture, I begin to see why so many artists are drawn here. These people are creative to the core. It is encouraged here at a young age, if the number of waist-high artisans at work on this day are any indication. It seems to be in their blood.
What else? Well, there are lots of places to get a massage here. I stop to get my fifth(5th?!) massage of this vacation (which by the way is barely 10 days old) while strolling along the main road in Ubud. I don't really feel like I need one, but hey, it is only 65,000 rupiah for one hour. That is about $6.50 or so. Count me in. I start to realize that I am becoming a bit of a massage glutton, mostly because, well...I can be. It is so cheap, and I have not had a bad one yet. It reminds me of when I was a teenager working at McDonald's. Our location would have "Cheeseburger Thursdays", and those delectable little hockey pucks would be on sale for 49 cents each. When customers would hear that they were so dirt cheap, their hunger would suddenly increase at an alarming rate. Example:
Customer: I'd like a cheeseburger.
Me: Sure, By the way, did you know they were only 49 cents each?
Customer: Really?! I will take ten!
And so it is with massages in this part of the world. Now, I am always ready and willing to be massaged. I have often joked that I would pay someone to follow me around and rub me on command if I had enough cash to throw away on such a luxury. All it takes is some spare time and the mere suggestion of a massage to convince me that yes, I should be up on that table once again. And when one session is less expensive than an average meal back in the states, well.....that is all I need to know. Boom, there you have it. Massage gluttony. It's like an all-you-can-eat buffet of relaxation.
Last but certainly not least, I take notice of the Balinese people themselves. Our first-day tour leader, Yeoman, has a smile at least a mile wide, and a twinkle in his big brown eyes. He is ready and willing to make our stay here as enjoyable and comfortable as he can. He speaks enough English to get by, and often repeats things that we say with laughter ("haha, massage gluttony, haha!") Milling around this charming town, I see the same gracious smiles everywhere, and yes, this even includes many of the beggars/salespeople. There is a gentleness here. Maybe it is partly a result of living in such incredibly beautiful surroundings. People just seem to be at peace with life in Bali. And that creativity is on full display everywhere, from the ornately carved statues to the sublime Balinese dancers we saw on our first night here. This place pulses (ever so gently) with life. I cannot wait to see more. And I still have four more days.
Get ready, senses.
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