The Last Days of Bali, Singapore Stopover, and Homeward Bound!

I'm in the United lounge in Singapore, sitting in one of those crazy massage chairs while I try to type. Our plane boards in five minutes. A quick summary of the last few days:
 
We returned from the Gilis to Ubud, where we checked into our luxury villa at Tega Sari. We'd been desperately seeking a room a few weeks prior and stumbled upon this little paradise - two newly constructed private oases (is that the plural of oasis, or what?!). We had it all, for two days - our own private pool, open air living space with wifi (yes, we still care about that), 24 hr butler service (ok, room service, but they were FAST), and a car at our disposal. We spent the whole first afternoon just loafing by the pool. And all for only $150, split three ways, a night! What a bargain. Our last days in Bali were fabulous - we attended a local temple opening ceremony (actually, we stood outside in the overflow crowd but it was great), our best massage, and a six course meal at Mozaic, a restaurant wiht a French trained head chef. It was like The French Laundry, but for about a quarter of the price. What a fantastic last day!
 
Yesterday was a whirlwid for Lisa and I in Singapore... we met up with our friends Terence and Serene, visited their family house (they lived with his parents, four dogs, 1 cat, and about a dozen giant koi in an inside-outside pond). Then they took us to a famous little restaurant that specializes in a unique cuisine found only here, which is a blend of Malaysian and Chinese cuisine. We ended it all at the local grocery store, buying packets and packets of curry mixes, and then a driving tour of the city. Only one day here really wasn't enough, given the hospitality of our friends and all the amazing cuisine we didn't get to sample. Photos to come - Terence is an amazing photographer and we got some really nice shots with the dogs. Seriously. :)
 
Well, off to the plane... homeward bound!!!

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The Gilis - The island getaway. From the island getaway (Lombok). From the first island getaway (Bali). Huh?!!

So, assume you've left home on a long vacation to "get away from it all" in Bali, and you thought Bali was too frenetic. And then maybe you ventured out to Lombok to really get lost. Smaller, less developed, no Polo store, fewer ATM's. Etc.
 
Then assume that THAT was too much for you too! Wow - now you really need a break. Cars are just plain annoying, and hot running water? NO THANK YOU - I've had it.
 
So, then you might end up on one of the smaller two of the three Gili Islands. Gili T is the biggest - with a stadium-full of 20-something mushroom-droppin' backpackers who do karaoke, spend $3 on a hostel bed and pound Bintangs all night like it's going out of style. Bad news! At least that's what we heard. (In fact, Lisa spent a couple of nights there solo while I remained in Bali and confirmed it was a no-go for our little threesome - little Gilis, here we come :))
 
So we bid a fond farewell to the Puri Amis in Lombok (or whatever it's called...see how lazy I've gotten?!) and our boat picked us up seaside for the 1 hr slow outrigger motorized canoe ride. On the way, we snorkled in the most crystalline, bluest of blue water, chasing pretty little fish and sea turtles until something else even more beautiful, but slightly more sinister entered our path: JELLYFISH. So, as you can imagine, it was right back into the boat, no need to ask us twice there...
 
(Aside: See photos for this plus a few from a few days earlier when we rented the non-motorized version of this boat for an "evening sail". We thought it was a regular sailboat, and didn't realize we'd be straddling the boat, all in a row, no chance to talk, and that there is no wind at all in the evenings.)
 
We spent a frustrating hour or so back and forth between Gili Air and Gili Meno. Where to stay? What does our personal version of island paradise look like, anyway? We finally settled on a very rustic bungalow with tiny beds, a bucket for a sink, and (thank god) fresh cold water, not salty cold water. The island is about 1-1/2 km all around (I should know, I walked it :)), and has about 6 or 7 little "resorts". All told, maybe there are about 50 or 60 people sleeping on the island at any given time. Seriously. And the locals all know who you are within about 1 hr of your arrival.
 
All told, we spent two full days and nights frolicking in the waves, dodging phantom jellyfish, "no thanks"ing jewelry vendors, cutting our feet on bleached coral en route to the frolicking, and ordering custom-made vodka drinks, mixed by our hotel guys. We had them buy the vodka somewhere else, as they don't normally serve cocktails. Unless you ask them to, then they just send a guy to buy the vodka. It's really weird. And on the last night, we had a nice conversation about visiting Papau New Guinea with a Balinese guy in an Aussie cowboy hat, who'd just visited. "Amazing! You just go talk to the chief, let them know you're there, and they do a whole fire dance just to welcome you," he told us. Or rather, he sold us. Turns out, he says, that he is the grandson of the Balinese King (they don't really operate as a monarchy anymore so this is entirely possible, I suppose). He wanted us to STAY LONGER, but we had to go, man. No more island time here. Things to do, temples to see, villas to lounge in, massages and yoga to be had, antiques to buy... You know.

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In case you were thinking...

...or, rather, JUDGING, we did do something cultural in Lombok. Look - it's a market! If you know my friend Gretchen, you know she is a designer, and you know she loves photographing food. And markets. And local people. And little plastic bags sold by little people in markets, which contain food. And so do I!
 
So we rented a car and driver and hit this little market. The food was exciting and scary, though the only thing we actually purchased was some sticky rice in banana leaves (see photo of the man chopping it). Gretchen bought that, and it sat in the car all day and she had a little bite and then we threw the rest away. But still - check the box: street food purchased!
 
On Lombok, they drive horse carts with small ponies to move around the island. And we also went to the other side of the island (can you believe that like Bali, they have a famed Kuta beach and it attracts lots of 20 year old Aussie surfers too?!) What are the odds? What does Kuta even mean in Indonesian? You know at the beginning of the trip, and maybe even all the way through Thailand, I might even have looked that up. But I'm too lazy. Oh no!  Guess what else I'm not doing much of these days?!
 
Reading the guidebook.
 
Heh.
 
 
 
I guess that's really all I have to say here. Just check out the market shots.

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Lombok - Thumbs up to Bali's funny little country cousin

Hey, guess what? We went to Lombok and it was so relaxing I couldn't even think about downloading photos, uploading to the blog, or even what day of the week it was. Really, I still have no idea. Saturday?!  Aah, I love this winding down from the winding down. It's so relaxing.
 
Lombok is an island right next to Bali (slightly smaller, less developed, and totally different). You get there via slow boat (4-1/2 hrs) or fast boat (1-1/2 hrs), and guess which one we picked? Yep - the fast one. It's very schleppy, somewhat confusing, but in the end, you are away from the crowds and in a whole new kind of island paradise. Lombok is still pretty populous (almost 2 M people), less lush and green but equally serene, and happens to be the inverse of Bali in terms of religion - mostly Muslim, just a little bit 'o Balinese Hindu. So in addition to the roosters and the lapping waves, you get the call to prayer. If I had to vote, I'd choose the Lombok version over the Egyptian and Turkish ones. It's recorded, there's only one loudspeaker going at a time, and they definitely picked someone with a nice voice.
 
Ok, all that said, I'm a NYTimes junkie, and I'd read about the Quinci Villas and Resort. For about $100 a night, all told, you get boutique, modern design hotel with impeccable service and oceanfront luxury. Seriously. When I tried to book directly, they said they were full. When I went through Agoda (my favorite online booking site for international hotels), I was able to get a triple. Amazing! They bring breakfast to your room, and you can walk two properties down the beach from where we were staying (the resort) to the even more exclusive, even more luxurious villas pool. But they're both nice. And we should know - we tried both.
 
After three nights at The Quinci, they practically had to pry our claws off the loungechairs. No way we could extend. But luckily, just down the beach was an equally relaxing, equally wonderful choice - the Ami Puris. For just $75 a night plus the extra bed charge, we were in a Balinese paradise. And they, too, have two properties. The other is a 2 minute taxi ride away. The owner, a professional dance instructor and international ballroom dance champion, has created his own version of tropical paradise in a secluded little valley. The property is his home, plus his personal zoo (birds, monkeys, laughing deer, exotic Irian Jaya big, big birds, and a bunch of other animals I can't even remember, seriously, there were so many). Oh - and there are three villas for rent there, which had been commandeered while we were there by three 60+ Aussie couples who were having the time of their life at their private estate! Guests can move from beach to valley hideout as they wish. Why pay for one hotel and one poolside paradise when you can have two?!!  We spent an afternoon here, and I think Lisa got her fix of monkeys, laughing deer, and we all got massages. Mine was open-air in the garden. Nice.
 
Town is small here... we had a few dinners, but there really wasn't much reason to leave except the antique shopping. We all bought a lot, and it took HOURS. The shop owner never stopped smiling, as his extended family drifted in and out. At the end he reminded me what a deal really is, (something we spent thousands of dollars and hours and hours trying to get to at eBay, if I recall :)). "You're happy, I'm happy. That's a deal." And now I've got a set of bone medicine holders with faces, a wood sculpture of a primitive man and a Lombokese calendar. And a little something (no peeking!) for my Dad. So there you go - a great deal.
 
 

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As Real As It Gets

Just when I think the real Bali is hard to find...

 

A few days after we met them, Martin and Annette (the Norwegians) suggested we check out of our hotel and join them at Sania’s Bungalows, a “homestay”, here in Bali. This place is a beehive of activity – about 12 guestrooms within a large family compound. All told, I think about 20 +family members live on the property, and they pop up all over throughout the day, going about their daily business.

 

Here in Bali, approximately 25 family compounds make up a “community”, and you can tell exactly who belongs where by the hand-written government address card outside each one. And within each “community”, people really pull together – they say you know your neighbor’s business faster than you know your own. They’re like family.

 

 So we really got to see the family and the community in action a few days ago, here at Sania’s bungalows when one man woke up, stepped outside, got disoriented, and fell off the balcony to his death. He may have been epileptic, but it was definitely an accident - when you see the construction here, it's no surprise.

 

The man was 42, and a son, husband, brother, cousin, uncle, nephew, father and grandson to the people he lived with everyday. We returned to our room a few hours after the accident, and the grieving was raw and intense. We didn’t see the body at that point, but it was clear that something terrible had happened.

 

Within six hours, it felt like the entire town of Ubud was assembled within the compound. They closed the street. Motorbikes were everywhere. Balinese men in black sarongs and white head scarfs lined the street in front of the Sania compound, the front entrance, and the temple area within. The widow and daughter were completely surrounded by women in the heart of the compound, wearing yellow sashes to distinguish themselves. The grandmother fell asleep on a mat next to them, not leaving their sides even to go to bed. Every time someone new arrived on motorbike or on foot, they unloaded a pot of food, which the women were efficiently serving to everyone in the open-air kitchen. It felt like a vigil, as they stayed late into the night and returned the next morning.

 

The Balinese spend a relative fortune on elaborate cremation ceremonies for their dead, and these take place every six months or so. When people die, they are temporarily buried, to allow proper time for planning and for the village religious leader to choose the most auspicious date for the cremation. The body is placed on a sort of gurney-platform, elaborately decorated (of course). While carrying the body to the cemetery, the pallbearers do all kinds of elaborate things to disorient the spirit and ensure that it doesn’t know how to return home.

 

So at Sania’s house, just two days after the accident, over two hundred people arrived to attend the ceremony at the family temple, say goodbye to the dead man, and escort the body to the the cemetery for its temporary interment.  We arrived back at Sania's just as people were paying their last respects and the ceremony was happening inside.

 

I only took one picture of the whole thing… outside the walls of the compound, where the men gathered just before the ceremony and walk to the cemetery started. It was really beautiful, and really unbelievable.

 

Martin, Annette and I gave a donation of about $30 US to the widow for the cremation. Everyone was subdued, sad, and their eyes were really glassy. Nothing they said made a whole lot of sense, especially when they were trying to help us plan day trips. (We asked them not to bother.) And when I moved into my new room the day after the accident, I decided it didn't really matter if the lights worked in the bathroom. Whenever I saw someone watering the plants on top of the roof, it made me cringe. But I just kept thinking about how intense, but healthy, it must be for the family to be in such close quarters, at the scene of the accident, and life inevitably goes on.

 

Photos here are of the family compound from my third floor perch, the guys gathered outside, and various shots around town shopping with M&A. We bought some textiles. We ate some lunch, etc. And the shot of fish eating feet? Don't adjust the monitor - it's a beauty treatment! Annette went to "Fish", a health spa, and got a 15 minute fish-eating-the-dead-skin-on-your-feet session. It was REALLY weird. :)

 

 
 
 

 

 

 

 

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A Tale of Two Rituals - Cockfighting and a Marriage

The Balinese are always celebrating something. So many temples, so many gods, so many ceremonies.
 
Today, we took an "eco-adventure bike tour", which was the perfect blend of riding downhill on a mountainbike through beautiful rice paddies and tropical forests, meeting animals and children along the way, great food and a big volcano. The volcano erupted 50 years ago and killed 1,000 people. Apparently, the village feels they must not have paid the correct respects to one of the bad demons. I'm just wondering how you would feel if you were the village priest who decides when the prayers happen. Whoops!  (Recall?)
 
Anyway, on the way down, we stumbled upon both a wedding ceremony and a cock fight. The photos should indicate which is which. Lisa was unable to watch the cock fighting, as it's pretty barbaric. They put razor blades on the birds, who have been training for just this occasion... out in the sun all day, practice fighting with other roosters, muscle massages, etc. Whomever's rooster kills the other one wins, and they get to take the losing bird home to make soup or stock. (This whole thing started because it was part of temple rituals to appease the mean gods while the community was trying to celebrate with the good gods. Now, sometimes, they just gamble. Which apparently, is technically illegal.)
 
The wedding was a bit less bloody. The bride and groom invited us in, and we met grandma, the groom's father, and got the full tour of the family compound. THe "Honeymoon" happens in one night, in the grandparents' quarters. Then, it's back to usual, and the new couple moves into their new digs within the family compound. The couple was so great - they invited us in, and we took photos of the grandma, the little cousins, father of the groom, etc. It was fabulous.
 
 
 
 

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Ubud - 15 Years Later

Bali and I haven't seen each other in 15 years, and it's pretty clear things have changed between us. We've both changed, but Ubud especially....
 
The same - temples, offerings, morning buys, sarongs and sashes, stray dogs, dangerous open sewer sidewalks, and garbage-burning
 
Totally different - ATM's EVERYWHERE, ten times (at least) as many shopping streets, transportation hawks every where you turn, and about eighty thousand spas and yoga studios. Luxury hotels. Visa extension lounges. Cell phones. Jazz clubs with lame happy hours and bad drinks. Salsa dancing. Internet cafes. Wait - the internet and email at all!
 
Now, Ubud is as tourist-friendly as Wailea, honestly, and as easy to get around. Everyone speaks English. The food is familiar. Not a single squat toilet so far, and not a single comment about my left-handedness. (They have an expression here "Pardon my left hand" which I find particularly offensive. But no one even NOTICES when I eat with my left hand these days.) But the magic is still here; you just have to try a little harder to find it. It's certainly not in the Ralph Lauren store. (I definitely prefer the magic to salmon-colored polos and seersucker trousers.)
 
We're fast friends now with Martin and Annette, a Norwegian couple from Oslo. She's an immigration lawyer for the gov't, he does genetic research on twins at a hospital. (I was hoping he had cracked the eternal mysteries like "Do they feel each other's pain and can they read each other's minds?", but apparently, that is going to have to remain a mystery to me. His research is mostly it's about predisposition to genetic disorders in twins.)  We met them last night at Blues night at the Jazz Club, and they joined us on a shopping/temple day. (That's not something you hear at home :))  Shopping was disappointing - see photos of the crap that passes for handicrafts here. Sigh. I think I just like folk art and antiques and guess what is WAY more expensive than this stuff?! Yep. I didn't get a photo of the wood sculptures of fornicating couples, but you get the picture...  
 
The temple was amazing, though. Of course, Indonesia is the fifth most populous nation in the world, and I am pretty sure, by default, that makes it the biggest Muslim nation. Every island except Bali is Muslim. But Bali has this really magical Hindu tradition that involves a lot of spirits, good and bad, and a lot of appeasements. Twice a day, everyday, you have to make offerings to these guys. Each temple gets a big to-do every six months. And since every town has many, many temples, and every home has one too, well... people are busy.  And it turns out that cock-fighting isn't just a PETA nightmare. It's all about the ritual sacrifice of one rooster and its blood. (So we heard from Wayan, our guide today.) That happens at the temple too.
 
And today, we stumbled upon a very special day at a very special temple. Offerings, bathing rituals, loading and unloading of gamelan orchestra equipment, families picnicking, etc.  All of the Muslim visitors (head scarf and all) from the rest of Indonesia were clamoring to get a photo with Annette, because she is seriously about six feet tall. And we got to wear temple sarongs and sashes. And we saw a pig head on a platter. Good fun!

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PETA could spend less time worrying about house flies...

...and more about the poor roosters of Indonesia, is all I'm saying. 
 
Yep, cock fighting. I completely forgot they do that here. Tonight, I almost went to watch (cultural immersion and all), but then I decided the little spurs digging into the feathers might be too much for me. The funny part is that, just like the gambling, it's all happening at the temple!
 
The ceremony we attended last night actually lasts THREE DAYS, and our driver mentioned that the cock fights start at 4 pm. We saw the crowds, mostly men, as you can imagine. We bought our very own locals-type sarongs so we can better infiltrate the pack at the temples... Just kidding. It's impossible, especially with my big camera that I like to shove in people's faces.
 
In other news, we spent the greater part of the morning schlepping around to find another hotel. We found one, and a really amazing villa type place for the tail end (Gretch - we're all set, you'll love it :) Turns out that many places are booked because it's school holidays in Indonesia. So everyone descends on Ubud. Which is why we should have planned ahead, but honestly, it's been low season everywhere else, so what are you going to do?!
 
We are devastated to leave this place, though. If you are ever in Ubud, you MUST stay at the Alam Indah. Accept no substitutes!  It is like being a guest in someone's lush tropical garden villa, with brand new bathrooms, views of rice paddies and pleasant enough Europeans sprinkled all over the premises like little faeries. Italians, Dutch, Swedes, you name it. The Germans just ordered beer. (Shocker.) Oh, and did I mention the Alam Indah is only about $70 a night?
 
Tonight, we are going to Tibetan Bowl Meditation at the Yoga Barn. Then yoga tomorrow morning. In a couple of days, it will be hard to know if we're lazy, relaxed or enlightened. I'm hoping for #3, of course.
 
 
 

Well, hello there, Bali!!!

Yes, we're in paradise.
 
En route from Chiang Mai, we stayed at a little airport hotel I like called the Grand Inn Come Hotel, and except for a Peeping Tom incident, smooth sailing all the way to Bali. (Re: Peeping Tom... Lisa made the mistake of looking out the window and someone else who was alone forgot to shut their curtains...ick.) And such a different world.
 
Lisa and I are here on Bali for 9 days, then my fabulous friend Gretchen will join us to head on over to Lombok. We are here for two nights at a beautiful place called Alam Indus, which is just outside of town through the Monkey Forest. Unfortunately, it's high season, so we have to move tomorrow. But where?!! Send your best vibes our way to find something equally wonderful. We really LOVE it here. Beautiful tropical grounds, wonderful staff who lend us sarongs and make offerings during their downtime, a beautiful pool, charming villa rooms with modern bathrooms, oh.. and Lisa just stepped off of the pavilion on the way to our room and said, "Hey - there are fish in here!" (She's looking at a pond wiht a moss covered stone statue of frogs, auspicious amphibians that they are here on Bali :))
 
Last night, instead of cruising the oh-so-touristy Monkey Forest Road or seeing a scheduled music or dance performance, we dropped in on the big festival that happened to be happening just down the road at the Monkey Forest temple. You can't enter a temple without a sarong and sufficiently covered shoulders, so we borrowed from the hotel and what an event! It was about 99% locals - all decked out and having a blast. All of the men were outside gambling 500, 1,000 rupiah notes to bet on what seemed a lot like Balinesian roulette. One guy throws two dice with animals on them, and whichever betters have put their money down on the corresponding animals win. The funny part was that a) no girls, no women b) pretty much all the men, and most of the boys were playing. An Aussie guy next to me was outraged "Gambling? The children too?", but I was more impressed that EVERYONE was there. It was like going to the Cinedome the night the new Terminator movie comes out... it reminded me of Bhutanese festivals, actually. Except with gambling, of course :)
 
The main event was actually INSIDE the temple itself... rituals and dances, with entire families watching, rapt. When the performance ended, everyone made their way even further inside to the inner sanctum. (We weren't allowed. It said CLOSED, in English, so I figured that meant us All of the women had delivered huge offering baskets to the altar, and everyone (women and the gambling men) were gathering post song-and-dance to pay respects to a very respected lama/guru type.
 
A great first night.

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Cooking on the Farm

Another reason to love Chiang Mai?!! I learned how to cook a red curry.
 
I joined nine other enthusiastic students at Thai Farm cooking school, which is basically an organic farm about 10 miles outside of the city. Run by "Nice" (a pretty, young, ironically somewhat not-so-warm-and-fuzzy but totally capable type), we took a really fun trip to the market, where Nice showed us all of the ingredients we'd be cooking with. Interesting was the coconut milk extrusion machine, the whole cooked chickens, legs and all, and the crazy mop-like fans that whirled over all of the food to keep the flies away.
 
After market, we got right to the cooking. My co-chefs were a nice blend of young European med students (3 women studying in the UK, one Dutch, two English), a Singaporean couple, a couple of Aussies (of course) and a wild card - a Bermudan (sp). Yep, born and raised in Bermuda!!! Oh, and me and Amy Skeeter-Behren's friend Clinton. (Amy works at eBay...we rode the bus together. She's very cool :)) Clinton lives in Noe Valley and I've already invited him to our Slideshow Party in August. I love new friends!!!
 
So, we each made a variation on the following, which is my menu:  Red Curry with Chicken, Coconut Milk Soup with Chicken, Pad Thai, Spring Rolls, Chicken Basil. All were FANTASTIC, and really, I'm over the intimidation factor. I could make them on my own, seriously!
 
It was a really, really great day. :)
 
 

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