The reason I haven't blogged the past few days is because I've just been to sad to sit down and write. My darling Grandma Earlene died early Wednesday morning after a painful battle with lung cancer. She had come to live with my parents in Edmond after her diagnosis in October, and because Labdon and I had just sold our house in preparation for a residency move, we had the blessing of being my Grammy's 'roomies' for the past few months. We had so much fun with her and spent many happy hours talking, reminiscing, playing with dogs and loving the sweetest moments with each other. Her short term menory had been quite affected by vascular dementia, but her long-term memory waa seamless and stories from her past flowed from her like a river. She gradually got sicker over the past few months, and I worried to my mom that I shouldn't go to Asia because of it. My mom looked at me as if I was insane and told me I was utterly crazy, and that I know my Gram well enough that I knew she wanted so badly for me to do my rotation in India and travel. She had been quite the traveler in her younger years just like me, and loved the thrill of setting off for a new place with new people to meet. I knew my mom was right, but it was still so hard for me to go, and to be in India, getting updates by phone on her health and happiness, both of which varied by the hour. She lived her life with joy and so much enjoyment of the most special things until just a few days before her death, planting flowers with my mom and a lake trip with my parents and Landon to Arkansas, to see my other grandma who was her dear friend from their days in Kansas, raising my parents who were sandbox buddies before they fell in love as adults.
I had been talking to my mom a lot as Grammy Earlene got sicker, and my mom had a feeling on Tuesday night that Grammy would probably leave us very soon. When Landon hugged me so hard when we got back to our hotel after the ziplining tour, I knew even before he spoke that my sweet Grammy had left for heaven already. I wanted to go home immeadiately to be with my family, but my mom reminded me that wasn't the plan, that I was doing exactly what Grammy wanted me to do, living life.
So I've been finishing the final days of the trip I planned, seeing the beauty of the amazing wonders I told Grammy about before I left. Though she couldn't remember exactly where or why I was going, her excitement matched mine. She lived for her family, and if her first grandchild was going on an adventure, she'd be right there with me.
Her service will be on Sarurday in her hometown of Saffordville, Kansas, just miles from the farmhouse I grew up visiting and loving her in, making soany memories. My flight gets home just more than 24 hours after the service, so I will be there through something I wrote to remember just a small part of the incredible, loving person that was my Grandma Earlene.
This is what I wrote for her:
My Grammy Earlene was an incredible woman. She was one of the strongest women I've ever met. Raising three girls on her own required a kind of courage that in today's time is remarkable, but for a woman in the 1960's was truly incredible. As a little girl staying out at the farm, I marveled at her fearlessness in living all by herself out in the country. Sleeping upstairs in her house, I would be scared of the shadows the tall trees outside the windows would make, their branches looking like monster's claws in the glow of the big streetlight in the backyard. I'd crawl into bed with her and immeadiately fall asleep under her protection. She was a successful but compassionate businesswoman, her efficiency and skill in running the nursing home matched only by the love and kindness she showed to all her patients. She knew each of their stories by heart, and I loved watching their faces light up when she'd talk with them about a special memory from their past. It seemed like everywhere we'd go in Chase County, somebody would know my Grammy and have a reason to come up and thank her, tell her a story or give her a hug. She was an honorable, highly-respected woman that taught me at an early age about integrity and the satisfaction of doing your job proudly and well. Grammy lost so many people that she loved early on in her life, but she shared her love so freely and openly with all of us. She was a survivor which can make people hardened to love from suffering so much loss, but her love as my grandmother was unhindered and unconditional.
My Grammy was also one of the most fun people I've ever known. We have had so many good times together in which we couldn't do anything but laugh. Some of my best memories are the times I spent alone with her in the summers at her house. I'd go into work with her, usually with Jenny, and we'd go talk to the people in the nursing home. We'd periodically stop by Gram's office to check in with her, and she'd always have a suggestion on who we should talk to next, who seemed lonely and could use a walk in the garden. After work we'd go out to eat, get ice cream, watch a movie, or I'd practice driving her blue Cadillac on the back-country roads by her house. Though I was an underage, terrible driver, she sat relaxed in the passenger seat, giving encouraging smiles and tips. I loved to play the piano and sing with her at the nursing home, at her house and at my mom's house most recently. She could still remember the notes well and we loved to sing together, especially hymns and popular songs from her younger years. Of course music brings to my mind one of her other favorite things: dancing. We'd put on CD's and dance on the wooden floors of her living room for hours. I loved watching her dance with Ben and Brian at my wedding, and most recently she'd laugh at my goofy dancing to her favorite records at Mom's house when I'd try to make her laugh. Even a few weeks ago I'd pull her up to sway with me and she loved it. We both shared the love of travel, and it was fun to talk about our favorite trips together and hear her experience of seeing the volcanoes in Hawaii after Landon and I went there for our honeymoon. She loved to shop and took me so many times for school and just for fun. Her eye for beautiful things was endearing to me, and I still love to touch all of her lovely jewelry, fancy hats and glassware that she had collected for so many years. Her closets upstairs held so many treasures that she always let us rifle through. Playing dress-up at Grammy's house was the best, and nothing made me happier than seeing her smile as Jenny, Hannah and I came prancing down the stairs in fancy dresses from her past. She let her grandchildren set up roller-skating rinks in the basement, dabble in her nicest make-up and perfumes and took us for long walks to Taddy-Pole Crick. She loved the outdoors and shared that love so strongly with us, and I have fallen in love with the beautiful Flint Hills that she adored so much. Some of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever seen were with Grandma, standing facing west at the edge of the pastures by her house.
The health problems that burdened Grandma in the last few years of her life brought her to see me more often and gave me opportunities to return just a small bit of the infinite love and care she had given me as a child. I am thankful for the times I got to take her to her cardiologist. We'd hop in my car, blasting Frank Sinatra the whole way there, dancing in our seats. She'd flirt in her gracious manner with every member of the office staff, both male and female, and charm everyone in the office. She'd often tell Dr. Prasad that her granddaughter was going to be a doctor like him, and her pride was so touching to me. Grammy always made it evident how proud she was of me and her other amazing children and grandchildren in the way she attended every school program, ball game and graduation of ours. After her appointment we'd usually go to Kaiser's, a restored soda fountain in downtown OKC that had a live piano player on most days. We'd eat humongous milk shakes together and people watch. Grandma knew so well the pure goodness of talking and relating to another person, and she'd often wander over to chat with the people at the next table, especially if they had little children. Almost as much as people, my Grammy loved animals. She passed onto us her love of all things great and small, from the beautiful monarch butterfly she preserved in her glass china cabinet to the multitude of cats that ruled the roost at her home over the years. I think that people who truly love and appreciate animals are unique and gentle spirits, and my Grammy was tireless in the way she cared for so many of them. I treasured the way she treated my dogs, Max and Lucy, giving them the most tender caresses and words at all times of the day. She could watch them wrestle each other for hours, and I knew when she scolded them it was just for show. Her mischevious streak we all knew so well loved watching those two roughouse. She also welcomed Landon like he was born her grandson, and in the way she loved him, he was. Her face was beaming when she saw me wearing her wedding pearls on my wedding day, and her presence with me on that day, like every other special day of my life, was a blessing and a memory I will always treasure.
When I left for my rotation in India, I knew it might be the last time I'd ever hug my sweet Grammy. We'd gone to breakfast as a family that morning, and afterwards we stood in the sunshine together and I told her goodbye and hugged her as tightly as I could. I told her that she was the best grandma in the entire world, and that I loved her so, so very much. She asked where I was going, and Mom told her that her grandaughter was adventurous just like her and was going on a trip.
"How wonderful!" She said brightly, and she hugged me so close and so tight it felt like she knew it might be our last hug too. I am now missing her like crazy, hardly believing this world can go on without my Grammy. My mind and soul are full of memories of her, the sound of her laugh, the twinkle in her eyes, and the way her hands would rub mine or stroke my hair when we would sit together. I wish that I could be home with everyone right now to give hugs and words of comfort, but I know Grammy is glad I took this trip, and she is on one too. I only wish we could share our stories about it like we always did, but I know she is happy and enjoying it beyond our human understanding, loving us in her special and perfect way like she always did. Landon said something the other day that made me realize that Grammy was at peace and ready to say goodbye to her beloved family. He reminded me about how lately she had kept saying,
"Well, I guess it's time for me to go home.", with an excited, joyful tone in her voice. Landon said she was likely talking about an entirely different home than we thought, and that is such a beautiful way to describe my Grammy feeling ready to leave this world and head back to the arms of her precious Lord.
Dolly Earlene Grace Cleeton Lind, my Grammy, I miss you and love you so much. Your life will always be remembered by your family that loves you so incredibly much. Welcome home.
I decided to keep blogging because she would want me to keep recording this adventure I'm on. I feel her so strongly with me here that I find myself whispering something to her often, knowing that she'd love a certain sunset or a stray cat on the corner. I miss her so much and it feels like the pain will never be healed, but my memories of her are a calming, reassuring presence and I know now that she is free, eternally joyful and on her own adventure.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
A day in Kuala Lumpur and Our Arrival in Thailand
We had a fabulous evening in Kuala Lumpur. We dined on the bamboo patio at the very hip Bijan, enjoying cold Tiger beer and typical Malaysian cuisine like mango leaf salad, chicken curry and fresh fish. The spice was excellent and just enough when combined with the other exotic flavors. After dinner we walked the city for several hours, passing by busy Times Square and thousands of people out enjoying the evening, as many as if it was the middle of the day. Kuala Lumpur has the dressings of a typical booming modern city, but also with a funky Southeast-Asian flair that is all its own. Curtains of electric blue light strands hung from the many towering trees in the city, draping in places over the above-ground metro that was a silver snake slithering past massive electronic billboards and skyscrapers of all shapes and brightly lit colors. There were several remarkable buildings ablaze against the skyline, but the most impressive by far was the Petronas towers.
Completed in 1998, the twin towers stand 1, 483 feet tall. They were considered the tallest structure in the world until 2004 when their incredible height was surpassed by Taipei 101, but they still remain the tallest twin buildings in the world. They are built on the deepest foundations of any building in the world, an astounding 120 meters. Eighty-eight stories tall, the towers are connected by the highest two-storey skybridge in the world on floors forty-one and forty-two, 558 feet above the ground and 190 feet long. I was surprised to learn that the bridge itself is not attached to the main structure, but designed to slide in and out of the towers to prevent it from breaking during high winds. The bridge was also the setting of the climax of 'Entrapment' when Catherine Zeta-Jones scaled across it. Even though the numbers and measures above used to describe its proportions are incredible, they are no comparison to the splendor of setting one's own eyes upon it. We saw the tips of the sparkling white towers peeking above the skyline numerous times as we walked toward them, but it wasn't until we were directly at their base that you could truly appreciate their fantastic construction and beauty. The circular, rounded part of the tower reminded me of a stack of intricately-painted bangle bracelets, the windows and metals of the towers reflecting like blue precious stones and gold. The rounded part then joined with the alternating square and triangular shapes that ran from the ground to the lofty spire at the top. It was a modern creation of contrasting geometric mastery that flowed together in impossible beauty. The entire thing was luminescent, radiating a pure white light that made the twin giants appear ethereal against the night sky. We all laid on the concrete for a long time gazing up at the Petronas tours, listening to Landon marvel at the engineering it must have taken to build them and then just laying their in captivated silence. Seeing the towers was the finale of the night, and we caught a cab back to the guest house and went to bed.
The morning we woke to was bright and sunny, and we made toast and coffee in the guest house kitchen and packed up our bags. We took a cab to the central train station where we stored our bags and hopped on a train that would carry us to the Batu Caves. Julie was especially excited and visiting the caves was her idea after she met someone during interview season who had been to them and highly recommended seeing them while in Kuala Lumpur. They were only a thirty minute ride from the city centre, and even from the train windows the height of the cliffs into which the caves were carved were impressive. The Batu Caves are a holy place for Hindus, and the world's largest statue of Lord Murugan, standing 140 feet tall, guards the bottom of the flight of steps that lead up to the cave entrance. Along the way to the steps stands another statue of impressive height, a 50 foot statue of Hanuman, the noble monkey and helper of the god Rama. His pastel green figure I had often seen in Indian temples. He greeted me like an old friend as we stepped off the train and immeadiately began sweating in the blazing sun. The golden statue of Murugan was indeed impressive, as were the 272 steps that led up to the entrance of the cave at the top of the cliffs. We started up them, stopping intermittently to take photos of Kuala Lumpur below us and to catch our breath. The view of the city when we reached the top was stunning, and we stood a moment to gaze upon the urban landscape before going into the cave entrance. The caves were enormous, and several separate caverns connected to form a tunnel several stories wide with stalagtites pointing their gnarled fingers into its vast interior. There were altars and temples in everywhere inside the cave, smiling Ganeshas and Vishnus peering out from every recess and cranny, recreiving offerings and prayers made by the worshipers who knelt before them. The light from the flames burning outside one temple cast a warm glow over the cool interior of the cave as we climbed yet more steps to reach the main temple which was guarded by hordes of monkeys. As monkeys go, these were the cute but mischevious ones who like to steal your stuff, and we watched in fascination as one grabbed a bottle of juice from another tourist and scurried up the rock, stopping to unscrew it then tilt it back for a drink.
Descending the same 272 steps we reached the bottom and got back on the train to head back to the centre station. Julie and Cristine were taking a later flight to Bangkok, so we hugged them goodbye and took the KLIA Express train to the airport. We had wonderful views of the city and its surroundings of dense tropical forests as the train sped to the airport. After arriving in Bangkok, Landon and I had some time to kill in the airport before our flight to Chiang Mai, so we sat in Starbucks awhile to sit and read. I couldn't help but think of sitting in a Starbucks with him two months ago back in the U. S., planning the very trip we are on now. We had our first Thailand meal at the airport, which was actually quite excellent and spicy. I am hoping to up my threshold for Thai chili and spiciness while I'm here! We met up with a sweaty Jules and Cristine who had ran all the way from immigration after their flight was delayed. Back together again we boarded the Bangkok Airways flight to Chiang Mai and touched down around 10 PM. Landon had arranged an airport pick-up by our hotel, the San Pee Seua, and we were warmly greeted and transported to our hotel in a beat-up pickup truck by our welcoming and grinning driver. The hotel is incredible! Located on the outskirts of Chiang Mai along the Maeping River, it has beautiful gardens and a green lawn that slopes to the river. We stood on the wood floor of the open back porch, gazing out past the colorful hanging lanterns of the trees that swayed in the breeze coming off the river right below. Our accomadations are a gorgeous two-bedroom apartment with beautiful wooden floors and ornate dark-wood furniture. There's a balcony overlooking the river, and I know the view from it in the morning will be lovely. So excited to be in Thailand for the next six days!
Completed in 1998, the twin towers stand 1, 483 feet tall. They were considered the tallest structure in the world until 2004 when their incredible height was surpassed by Taipei 101, but they still remain the tallest twin buildings in the world. They are built on the deepest foundations of any building in the world, an astounding 120 meters. Eighty-eight stories tall, the towers are connected by the highest two-storey skybridge in the world on floors forty-one and forty-two, 558 feet above the ground and 190 feet long. I was surprised to learn that the bridge itself is not attached to the main structure, but designed to slide in and out of the towers to prevent it from breaking during high winds. The bridge was also the setting of the climax of 'Entrapment' when Catherine Zeta-Jones scaled across it. Even though the numbers and measures above used to describe its proportions are incredible, they are no comparison to the splendor of setting one's own eyes upon it. We saw the tips of the sparkling white towers peeking above the skyline numerous times as we walked toward them, but it wasn't until we were directly at their base that you could truly appreciate their fantastic construction and beauty. The circular, rounded part of the tower reminded me of a stack of intricately-painted bangle bracelets, the windows and metals of the towers reflecting like blue precious stones and gold. The rounded part then joined with the alternating square and triangular shapes that ran from the ground to the lofty spire at the top. It was a modern creation of contrasting geometric mastery that flowed together in impossible beauty. The entire thing was luminescent, radiating a pure white light that made the twin giants appear ethereal against the night sky. We all laid on the concrete for a long time gazing up at the Petronas tours, listening to Landon marvel at the engineering it must have taken to build them and then just laying their in captivated silence. Seeing the towers was the finale of the night, and we caught a cab back to the guest house and went to bed.
The morning we woke to was bright and sunny, and we made toast and coffee in the guest house kitchen and packed up our bags. We took a cab to the central train station where we stored our bags and hopped on a train that would carry us to the Batu Caves. Julie was especially excited and visiting the caves was her idea after she met someone during interview season who had been to them and highly recommended seeing them while in Kuala Lumpur. They were only a thirty minute ride from the city centre, and even from the train windows the height of the cliffs into which the caves were carved were impressive. The Batu Caves are a holy place for Hindus, and the world's largest statue of Lord Murugan, standing 140 feet tall, guards the bottom of the flight of steps that lead up to the cave entrance. Along the way to the steps stands another statue of impressive height, a 50 foot statue of Hanuman, the noble monkey and helper of the god Rama. His pastel green figure I had often seen in Indian temples. He greeted me like an old friend as we stepped off the train and immeadiately began sweating in the blazing sun. The golden statue of Murugan was indeed impressive, as were the 272 steps that led up to the entrance of the cave at the top of the cliffs. We started up them, stopping intermittently to take photos of Kuala Lumpur below us and to catch our breath. The view of the city when we reached the top was stunning, and we stood a moment to gaze upon the urban landscape before going into the cave entrance. The caves were enormous, and several separate caverns connected to form a tunnel several stories wide with stalagtites pointing their gnarled fingers into its vast interior. There were altars and temples in everywhere inside the cave, smiling Ganeshas and Vishnus peering out from every recess and cranny, recreiving offerings and prayers made by the worshipers who knelt before them. The light from the flames burning outside one temple cast a warm glow over the cool interior of the cave as we climbed yet more steps to reach the main temple which was guarded by hordes of monkeys. As monkeys go, these were the cute but mischevious ones who like to steal your stuff, and we watched in fascination as one grabbed a bottle of juice from another tourist and scurried up the rock, stopping to unscrew it then tilt it back for a drink.
Descending the same 272 steps we reached the bottom and got back on the train to head back to the centre station. Julie and Cristine were taking a later flight to Bangkok, so we hugged them goodbye and took the KLIA Express train to the airport. We had wonderful views of the city and its surroundings of dense tropical forests as the train sped to the airport. After arriving in Bangkok, Landon and I had some time to kill in the airport before our flight to Chiang Mai, so we sat in Starbucks awhile to sit and read. I couldn't help but think of sitting in a Starbucks with him two months ago back in the U. S., planning the very trip we are on now. We had our first Thailand meal at the airport, which was actually quite excellent and spicy. I am hoping to up my threshold for Thai chili and spiciness while I'm here! We met up with a sweaty Jules and Cristine who had ran all the way from immigration after their flight was delayed. Back together again we boarded the Bangkok Airways flight to Chiang Mai and touched down around 10 PM. Landon had arranged an airport pick-up by our hotel, the San Pee Seua, and we were warmly greeted and transported to our hotel in a beat-up pickup truck by our welcoming and grinning driver. The hotel is incredible! Located on the outskirts of Chiang Mai along the Maeping River, it has beautiful gardens and a green lawn that slopes to the river. We stood on the wood floor of the open back porch, gazing out past the colorful hanging lanterns of the trees that swayed in the breeze coming off the river right below. Our accomadations are a gorgeous two-bedroom apartment with beautiful wooden floors and ornate dark-wood furniture. There's a balcony overlooking the river, and I know the view from it in the morning will be lovely. So excited to be in Thailand for the next six days!
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Crazy Kuta, Back Together in Singapore, and the Road to Kuala Lumpur
We spent our last hours in Indonesia in Kuta, the beating heart of Bali's lively tourism industry. We picked up a few gifts for family and friends, and had lunch at an Indian restaurant. I honestly wasn't expecting it to be very good or authentic, but as I savored the first bite of naan and mixed vegetable curry, nostalgia washed over me and I felt an ache for the wonderful country I'd left last week. The food was delicious, and I vowed once again to learn to cook Indian food well when I return.
We spent the rest of the day walking along the populated beach, enjoying the refreshing breeze that swept across the water. There was much preparation along the beach walk for the evening's celebration of the Hindu new year, and the whole crowd had an anticipatory excitement about it. Landon and I visited the memorial to the victims of the Kuta bombing at the Sari Club. Seeing their individual names and nationalities, etched into the stone, made the horror and sadness of the senseless act very real. The site was in the absolute center of the blocks of bars, nightclubs and major tourism strike. I had wondered why they chose to target a place so certainly occupied by foreign tourists, but it's clearly apparent why. They not only aimed to take innocent lives, but to destroy the spirit of joy that makes Bali such a desired place to visit for people from all nations and walks of life.
Landon I walked the streets of Kuta for several hours, taking in the frenzy of activity that was in preparation for the parade of ogoh-ogoh's to chase away the bad spirits and welcome in the good for the Balinese/Hindu New Year that began the next day. We had seen a lot of these fierce and fantastical ogoh-ogoh's being constructed throughout the week, and we now saw them in action. When carried on bamboo-rod platforms by groups of twenty young boys and men, these constructions of all faces, shapes and colors stood at least twenty feet high and were quite fearsome. We watched parades of many-headed demons, fierce warriors carrying swords that were ready to impale vicious monsters and also creatures that have no definition in terms of species or form. We sat on the edge of fountain in the main park of Tuban for some time by the pre-parade ogoh-ogoh staging area. We watched families gather together in the merriment of the day, greatly enjoying the Indonesian people celebrate such a lively and entertaining part of their culture. After getting some ice cream, it was time to head to the airport. Thankfully we made it there before all the roads were closed due to the parade and in preparation for the upcoming Nyepi Day, or the Day of Silence. The next day the entire island of Bali would be on complete lockdown. The people of Bali would spend the day in quiet reflection, not-speaking, fasting and not engaging in any sort of activity, really. I was sad to leave Bali, but glad that we wouldn't suffer the fate of the tourists left in Bali on Nyepi. They had to remain in their hotels and couldn't leave the grounds. Because the hotel staff was also observing the day of silence, there was only a skeleton crew to deliver limited food and service to the guests. When I talked to a Norweigan couple who had visited Bali seven times and twice during the Balinese New Year, they said that the hotels even turned off the pool pumps so people who wanted to swim had to do so in filthy water. It seems a little extreme, but Landon pointed out what a meaningful day it must be if you were Balinese and I had to agree in the beautiful simplicty of it all and the peace that spending a day in silence in the company of your loved ones would bring.
We arrived in Singapore around midnight, and went straight out to a nightclub to meet up with Julie and Cristine! As soon as we set eyes on each other we rushed forward and hugged each other in tight embrances. It was good to be back with my traveling crew, sadly minus Michael but happily plus one Landon Grace. The girls were out with Julie's college friend Elise, who had recently moved to Singapore for her husband's job along with their 14-month-old little girl. I could tell that living in a foreign city with a young child was difficult, but Elise was so sweet and charming and I told her I knew she'd find her niche in time. Their posting is for two years after which they'll likely return to Dallas. We ended the night at a bar in Clarke Quay, telling our stories from our week apart over overpriced beers. The girls had had such fun in Rajasthan, and I laughed at their stories of a camel they named "Zenk" due his unfortunate possession of a Zenker's diverticulum (or so they thought), their dancing with the locals at a traditional Rajasthani restaurant and their beautiful camel ride through the sand dunes in the Thar desert. We all lamented leaving India, going back over our beautiful time there, a trend that will continue even after we get back to the United States. They had quite the adventures in Bali as well, and I admired their bravery at renting a moped in Ubud! I was so happy to be back with them, knowing our foursome was going to have fabulous adventures together in the week ahead.
We dragged ourselves out of bed at 9 AM after only going to bed around 5:30 AM, and headed to catch our bus to Kuala Lumpur. Now, after our experiences on the lovely India buses, I wasn't expecting much out of the "luxury bus" that Landon had booked. Man was I pleasantly surprised! Our five-hour journey to Kuala Lumpur was in an air-conditioned and clean charter bus supplied with personal TV's, Wi-Fi, a delicious Malaysian meal and seats that reclined. Fantastic! I watched "Marley and Me" when I wasn't gazing out the window at the gorgeous scenary of the Malay Peninsula as we traveled north from Singapore. The geography was quite different than Singapore. As the blue of the water receeded from view, the landscape was overtaken by what I can best describe as a true jungle. Palm tree forests grew rampantly and wildly in every direction, and the hills rolled along with our rapidly moving bus. Arriving in Kuala Lumpur I was shocked by the sprawling, modern city, resplendant with green gardens, fountains and gleaming skyscrapers. Though it began to pour rain immeadiately upon disembarking the bus, we could still see much of the skyline and excitedly pointed out the imposing and majestic outline of the Petronas Towers whose twin figures we were famliar with from pop-culture (the movie "Entrapment", a highly entertaining flick with Sean Connery and Catherine Zeta-Jones. Watch it, you'll love it.) Landon arranged for us to stay at the Sahabat Guesthouse, a charming blue-painted villa near the city centre. It is clean and quaint, with white-washed walls, quirky art decorations and each room is named after a spice. Cristine and Julie are in Lemongrass, and Landon and I are in Lime. How lovely. Tonight we plan to experience some of the incredible Malaysian cuisine of Kuala Lumpur and then enjoy the nightlife of this thriving city. Tomorrow we go to the Batu Caves and its famous temples, and after a day of exploration head to the airport to catch our flight to Thailand.
Enjoying every moment, always thinking and missing my loved ones back home, and grateful for the ones here with me.
We spent the rest of the day walking along the populated beach, enjoying the refreshing breeze that swept across the water. There was much preparation along the beach walk for the evening's celebration of the Hindu new year, and the whole crowd had an anticipatory excitement about it. Landon and I visited the memorial to the victims of the Kuta bombing at the Sari Club. Seeing their individual names and nationalities, etched into the stone, made the horror and sadness of the senseless act very real. The site was in the absolute center of the blocks of bars, nightclubs and major tourism strike. I had wondered why they chose to target a place so certainly occupied by foreign tourists, but it's clearly apparent why. They not only aimed to take innocent lives, but to destroy the spirit of joy that makes Bali such a desired place to visit for people from all nations and walks of life.
Landon I walked the streets of Kuta for several hours, taking in the frenzy of activity that was in preparation for the parade of ogoh-ogoh's to chase away the bad spirits and welcome in the good for the Balinese/Hindu New Year that began the next day. We had seen a lot of these fierce and fantastical ogoh-ogoh's being constructed throughout the week, and we now saw them in action. When carried on bamboo-rod platforms by groups of twenty young boys and men, these constructions of all faces, shapes and colors stood at least twenty feet high and were quite fearsome. We watched parades of many-headed demons, fierce warriors carrying swords that were ready to impale vicious monsters and also creatures that have no definition in terms of species or form. We sat on the edge of fountain in the main park of Tuban for some time by the pre-parade ogoh-ogoh staging area. We watched families gather together in the merriment of the day, greatly enjoying the Indonesian people celebrate such a lively and entertaining part of their culture. After getting some ice cream, it was time to head to the airport. Thankfully we made it there before all the roads were closed due to the parade and in preparation for the upcoming Nyepi Day, or the Day of Silence. The next day the entire island of Bali would be on complete lockdown. The people of Bali would spend the day in quiet reflection, not-speaking, fasting and not engaging in any sort of activity, really. I was sad to leave Bali, but glad that we wouldn't suffer the fate of the tourists left in Bali on Nyepi. They had to remain in their hotels and couldn't leave the grounds. Because the hotel staff was also observing the day of silence, there was only a skeleton crew to deliver limited food and service to the guests. When I talked to a Norweigan couple who had visited Bali seven times and twice during the Balinese New Year, they said that the hotels even turned off the pool pumps so people who wanted to swim had to do so in filthy water. It seems a little extreme, but Landon pointed out what a meaningful day it must be if you were Balinese and I had to agree in the beautiful simplicty of it all and the peace that spending a day in silence in the company of your loved ones would bring.
We arrived in Singapore around midnight, and went straight out to a nightclub to meet up with Julie and Cristine! As soon as we set eyes on each other we rushed forward and hugged each other in tight embrances. It was good to be back with my traveling crew, sadly minus Michael but happily plus one Landon Grace. The girls were out with Julie's college friend Elise, who had recently moved to Singapore for her husband's job along with their 14-month-old little girl. I could tell that living in a foreign city with a young child was difficult, but Elise was so sweet and charming and I told her I knew she'd find her niche in time. Their posting is for two years after which they'll likely return to Dallas. We ended the night at a bar in Clarke Quay, telling our stories from our week apart over overpriced beers. The girls had had such fun in Rajasthan, and I laughed at their stories of a camel they named "Zenk" due his unfortunate possession of a Zenker's diverticulum (or so they thought), their dancing with the locals at a traditional Rajasthani restaurant and their beautiful camel ride through the sand dunes in the Thar desert. We all lamented leaving India, going back over our beautiful time there, a trend that will continue even after we get back to the United States. They had quite the adventures in Bali as well, and I admired their bravery at renting a moped in Ubud! I was so happy to be back with them, knowing our foursome was going to have fabulous adventures together in the week ahead.
We dragged ourselves out of bed at 9 AM after only going to bed around 5:30 AM, and headed to catch our bus to Kuala Lumpur. Now, after our experiences on the lovely India buses, I wasn't expecting much out of the "luxury bus" that Landon had booked. Man was I pleasantly surprised! Our five-hour journey to Kuala Lumpur was in an air-conditioned and clean charter bus supplied with personal TV's, Wi-Fi, a delicious Malaysian meal and seats that reclined. Fantastic! I watched "Marley and Me" when I wasn't gazing out the window at the gorgeous scenary of the Malay Peninsula as we traveled north from Singapore. The geography was quite different than Singapore. As the blue of the water receeded from view, the landscape was overtaken by what I can best describe as a true jungle. Palm tree forests grew rampantly and wildly in every direction, and the hills rolled along with our rapidly moving bus. Arriving in Kuala Lumpur I was shocked by the sprawling, modern city, resplendant with green gardens, fountains and gleaming skyscrapers. Though it began to pour rain immeadiately upon disembarking the bus, we could still see much of the skyline and excitedly pointed out the imposing and majestic outline of the Petronas Towers whose twin figures we were famliar with from pop-culture (the movie "Entrapment", a highly entertaining flick with Sean Connery and Catherine Zeta-Jones. Watch it, you'll love it.) Landon arranged for us to stay at the Sahabat Guesthouse, a charming blue-painted villa near the city centre. It is clean and quaint, with white-washed walls, quirky art decorations and each room is named after a spice. Cristine and Julie are in Lemongrass, and Landon and I are in Lime. How lovely. Tonight we plan to experience some of the incredible Malaysian cuisine of Kuala Lumpur and then enjoy the nightlife of this thriving city. Tomorrow we go to the Batu Caves and its famous temples, and after a day of exploration head to the airport to catch our flight to Thailand.
Enjoying every moment, always thinking and missing my loved ones back home, and grateful for the ones here with me.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
The Gili Islands and Then Onto Our Next Journey
Spending our last full day in Indonesia on the Gili islands was a beautiful end to a wonderful time in this incredible country. We went into town around 9 AM to try on our snorkel gear, and then walked a few feet from the snorkel shop to climb into the boat that would take us to the Gilis. It was a boat typical to the kind we have seen so frequently in Indonesia. Essentially it's a giant canoe, but the sides are straight rather than curved. There is a roof covering part of it, an outboard motor in the back and two long skids that run almost the entire length of the boat. The skids are wide, wooden poles that are attached to the bout first by a short pole that juts out perpindicular to the boat, then parallel to the boat so that the skids rest in the water. At first I wondered at this creation that makes the boats look like giant grasshoppers or something of the sort, but as I rode in one yesterday, I realize it's definitely for stability! I think the thin boat would certainly capsize otherwise.
The ride to the Gili islands was about an hour, and during that time we both had our eyes trained on Lombok as our view from the water gave us unlimited views of its natural beauty in totality. We could see to the very top of the cloud-covered mountains, the lush green valleys, and then to the gentle turquoise waters that were carved in places by jagged cliffs and ornate rock formations. I almost fell out of the boat trying to capture Lombok's wild beauty with my camera, but no photo will ever do it justice. As we moved further from Lombok and closer to the Gili Islands, their size and contour became more apparent. Gili Trawangan, the largest one, has the most topopgraphical variety, with a small hill in its center that gently slopes down to meet the water. Gili Meno and Gili Air, the two smaller ones, almost identical in size, are flatter but also covered in thick trees and vegetation. As we neared them, I realized how close together they actually were. Even a mildly-determined swimmer could swim from one to the other, barring strong currents and tides. As we slowly motored into Gili Trawangan, I marveled at the incredible clarity of the water. From my perch on the boat, I could see far below into the coral reefs and the schools of fish surrounding them. I couldn't wait to snorkel, and Landon kindly let me have the first turn when we were dropped off on the beach and he waited with our stuff and arranged the pick-up time with the captain.
I put on my gear and waded into the water, starting out with a few strong strokes to get me out to where the reef lay. I was stopped short by some curious creatures, small jellyfish the size of a tangerine that were completely clear other than four tiny orange circles near their tails. I tried to swim around them, but as I looked underwater, they stretched in a thick line in both directions. I was hoping these weren't some lethal kind of sea creature that would paralyze me on the spot with one sting, and though they did sting when they touched their skin, I realized no harm would come of them and continued to swim through and dive beneath them. I soon arrived at the coral reef, and stopped still in the water, stunned by the activity and life all around me. What I had seen from above the water was but a hint of the busy underwater city that lay before me. Giant coral rose like city buildings and skyscrapers in every direction, and its colorful citizens of fish of every size, shape and color created busy haphazard traffic that ran in all directions and planes. It was truly miraculous. I had never seen so many different kinds of fish, there must have been hundreds of different species that I saw in the first ten minutes. I snorkeled until I was dizzy from the activity, then tagged Landon for his turn to visit the underwater city.
While sunbathing and reading as I waited for Landon while he snorkeled, I was approached by a friendly young Indonesian man who wanted to practice his English and see if I might be interested in his business.
"Well what kind of business are you in?" I asked.
"The press." He said.
"Oh, like the newspaper? Magazines?" I asked.
"No madame. Press. You want me to press you?" He asked.
Now I was really confused.
"Press me?" I asked, bewildered. This was a little weird.
"Yes. I press you. Press your body."
"Ohhhh, you're a masseuse. I see. Um, no thank you, I don't need pressing today sir." I said with a hidden smile, which I had to contain even more when Landon came back and he was also offered the opportunity for "a press". He kindly declined, and we went off in search of lunch on Gili Trawangan.
Though the islands are certainly seeing more tourism in the last couple of years, they are still relatively unscathed by the crowds and developments that mark so many other beautiful islands around the world. Other than a few small, local hotels and eateries, the island is still mostly green forest, white sandy beach, and serene turquoise waters. We chose lunch at a Thai restaurant (gearing up for next week!), then met back up with our trusty captain so we could go snorkel at Gili Meno, the best snorkeling in the Gilis according to the captain. Instead of pulling up to the beach as we had done on Gili Trawangan, he plopped us off in the middle of the water between Trawangan and Meno, right above the largest section of coral reef. From there we spent over an hour-and-a-half, combing the endless expanse of reef below us, larger than several football fields. We saw even more fish, and Landon made the accidental discovery that by flipping a fin close to the reef, it sent a gush of water of the coral that caused the tiny anenomes and other plants on it to snap shut like a Venus-flytrap. I had to do it at least two more times, and laughed through my snorkel. We swam as far as we could, to where the reef ended and then the ocean floor steeply dropped to its depths. Wrinkled and exhilirated, we climbed back into the boat at the captain's urging, because rain was coming from every direction. We almost beat the storm, but it caught us as we pulled along Lombok's coast. By the time we arrived back at our hotel beach, we were soaked through and through. Rain water indistinguishable from salt water as the sideways rain had only been rivaled by the waves that crashed over the side of the boat. Hannah and Mom would have gotten so seasick!
We laid by the pool awhile, reading and enjoying the last hour of daylight. I love swimming in the infinity pool here, because if you are at eye level with the water, the end of the pool and the beginning of the ocean are indistinguishable. One deep blue flows into another, meeting at the point of the horizon which marked the setting sun. Our last dinner on the oceanfront terrace was wonderful, and we toasted the delicious Indonesian food before us, but most of all our fabulous and special time together, with some cold Bintang's (the pride of Indonesia, a slightly bitter but good Pilsner).
This morning we woke up to a cool tropical shower, and dragged ourselves out of bed to meet our last day in Indonesia. We fly to Bali, then will spend a few hours driving around in order to see the fantastic new year's celebration with the ogoh-ogoh's. Our flight leaves to Singapore around 9 PM, where we will be reunited with Cristine and Julie! I am so excited to see my darling friends again, and to continue our travels together. Though they are two of my closest and dearest friends at home already, traveling and working with them in India for the past month has made me realize even more what a blessing it is to have them in my life. They are extraordinary women. I have come to know that traveling strengthens the bonds of relationships in an accelerated fashion, pushing you beyond your limits and challenging you in many ways. When you go through it with people, your relationship emerges solidified and changed, for the better I think. I am really looking forward to traveling all together with Julie, Cristine and Landon. We will take a bus up the Malay Peninsula to Kuala Lumpur on Saturday, spend a day there, then fly to Thailand to begin a week of adventures there. I can't wait! I am already missing India very much, but being with my loved ones here and the constant excitement of each new day of travel brings even more joy than the one before it. I feel very, very blessed.
The ride to the Gili islands was about an hour, and during that time we both had our eyes trained on Lombok as our view from the water gave us unlimited views of its natural beauty in totality. We could see to the very top of the cloud-covered mountains, the lush green valleys, and then to the gentle turquoise waters that were carved in places by jagged cliffs and ornate rock formations. I almost fell out of the boat trying to capture Lombok's wild beauty with my camera, but no photo will ever do it justice. As we moved further from Lombok and closer to the Gili Islands, their size and contour became more apparent. Gili Trawangan, the largest one, has the most topopgraphical variety, with a small hill in its center that gently slopes down to meet the water. Gili Meno and Gili Air, the two smaller ones, almost identical in size, are flatter but also covered in thick trees and vegetation. As we neared them, I realized how close together they actually were. Even a mildly-determined swimmer could swim from one to the other, barring strong currents and tides. As we slowly motored into Gili Trawangan, I marveled at the incredible clarity of the water. From my perch on the boat, I could see far below into the coral reefs and the schools of fish surrounding them. I couldn't wait to snorkel, and Landon kindly let me have the first turn when we were dropped off on the beach and he waited with our stuff and arranged the pick-up time with the captain.
I put on my gear and waded into the water, starting out with a few strong strokes to get me out to where the reef lay. I was stopped short by some curious creatures, small jellyfish the size of a tangerine that were completely clear other than four tiny orange circles near their tails. I tried to swim around them, but as I looked underwater, they stretched in a thick line in both directions. I was hoping these weren't some lethal kind of sea creature that would paralyze me on the spot with one sting, and though they did sting when they touched their skin, I realized no harm would come of them and continued to swim through and dive beneath them. I soon arrived at the coral reef, and stopped still in the water, stunned by the activity and life all around me. What I had seen from above the water was but a hint of the busy underwater city that lay before me. Giant coral rose like city buildings and skyscrapers in every direction, and its colorful citizens of fish of every size, shape and color created busy haphazard traffic that ran in all directions and planes. It was truly miraculous. I had never seen so many different kinds of fish, there must have been hundreds of different species that I saw in the first ten minutes. I snorkeled until I was dizzy from the activity, then tagged Landon for his turn to visit the underwater city.
While sunbathing and reading as I waited for Landon while he snorkeled, I was approached by a friendly young Indonesian man who wanted to practice his English and see if I might be interested in his business.
"Well what kind of business are you in?" I asked.
"The press." He said.
"Oh, like the newspaper? Magazines?" I asked.
"No madame. Press. You want me to press you?" He asked.
Now I was really confused.
"Press me?" I asked, bewildered. This was a little weird.
"Yes. I press you. Press your body."
"Ohhhh, you're a masseuse. I see. Um, no thank you, I don't need pressing today sir." I said with a hidden smile, which I had to contain even more when Landon came back and he was also offered the opportunity for "a press". He kindly declined, and we went off in search of lunch on Gili Trawangan.
Though the islands are certainly seeing more tourism in the last couple of years, they are still relatively unscathed by the crowds and developments that mark so many other beautiful islands around the world. Other than a few small, local hotels and eateries, the island is still mostly green forest, white sandy beach, and serene turquoise waters. We chose lunch at a Thai restaurant (gearing up for next week!), then met back up with our trusty captain so we could go snorkel at Gili Meno, the best snorkeling in the Gilis according to the captain. Instead of pulling up to the beach as we had done on Gili Trawangan, he plopped us off in the middle of the water between Trawangan and Meno, right above the largest section of coral reef. From there we spent over an hour-and-a-half, combing the endless expanse of reef below us, larger than several football fields. We saw even more fish, and Landon made the accidental discovery that by flipping a fin close to the reef, it sent a gush of water of the coral that caused the tiny anenomes and other plants on it to snap shut like a Venus-flytrap. I had to do it at least two more times, and laughed through my snorkel. We swam as far as we could, to where the reef ended and then the ocean floor steeply dropped to its depths. Wrinkled and exhilirated, we climbed back into the boat at the captain's urging, because rain was coming from every direction. We almost beat the storm, but it caught us as we pulled along Lombok's coast. By the time we arrived back at our hotel beach, we were soaked through and through. Rain water indistinguishable from salt water as the sideways rain had only been rivaled by the waves that crashed over the side of the boat. Hannah and Mom would have gotten so seasick!
We laid by the pool awhile, reading and enjoying the last hour of daylight. I love swimming in the infinity pool here, because if you are at eye level with the water, the end of the pool and the beginning of the ocean are indistinguishable. One deep blue flows into another, meeting at the point of the horizon which marked the setting sun. Our last dinner on the oceanfront terrace was wonderful, and we toasted the delicious Indonesian food before us, but most of all our fabulous and special time together, with some cold Bintang's (the pride of Indonesia, a slightly bitter but good Pilsner).
This morning we woke up to a cool tropical shower, and dragged ourselves out of bed to meet our last day in Indonesia. We fly to Bali, then will spend a few hours driving around in order to see the fantastic new year's celebration with the ogoh-ogoh's. Our flight leaves to Singapore around 9 PM, where we will be reunited with Cristine and Julie! I am so excited to see my darling friends again, and to continue our travels together. Though they are two of my closest and dearest friends at home already, traveling and working with them in India for the past month has made me realize even more what a blessing it is to have them in my life. They are extraordinary women. I have come to know that traveling strengthens the bonds of relationships in an accelerated fashion, pushing you beyond your limits and challenging you in many ways. When you go through it with people, your relationship emerges solidified and changed, for the better I think. I am really looking forward to traveling all together with Julie, Cristine and Landon. We will take a bus up the Malay Peninsula to Kuala Lumpur on Saturday, spend a day there, then fly to Thailand to begin a week of adventures there. I can't wait! I am already missing India very much, but being with my loved ones here and the constant excitement of each new day of travel brings even more joy than the one before it. I feel very, very blessed.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Loving Lombok
I feel like Landon is past his jet-lag because we slept in until nine this morning! We had luxurious showers on our outdoor bathroom patio, which I just can't get over. It's simply the best. I told Landon that we have to build an outdoor bathroom when we move to Miami. Please don't picture a "port-o-potty" kind of outdoor bathroom, because that's the exact opposite. This is like a genuine, luxurious master bathroom you'd find in a home...only there is no roof and you have an unhindered view of the sky and the beautiful pink flowers hanging overhead as you start the day with a hot shower...ahhhh yes). We had breakfast on the beachfront terrace, the sounds of the crashing ocean filling our ears and fresh fruit filling our bellies. We then met our driver, Mr. Mamine, who was to drive us to the northern side of Lombok to hike on Mount Rinjani and visit the beautiful waterfalls. Gunung Rinjani is the highest mountain in Lombok and the second highest in Indonesia at 3,726 meters. It is an active volcano with a recent eruption in 1994, and its huge rater contains a large crescent lake that is 6 km at its widest point.
I couldn't believe how beautiful the island was as we wound along the coast, in and out of palm tree forests and across rivers. The scenery was constantly changing. We wound up high cliffs that offered expansive views of the turqouise inlets that flowed into beaches and then the tall green mountains behind them. The sand was so pristine-white that it assumed the deep blues and greens of the water as it sloped off the beach. There was such stark topographical contrast between the towering mountains and the ocean, and endless wonder that stretched in between nature's great monuments. We passed enormous fields of rice paddies in all stages of growth and harvest. When the rice is very young and tender, it forms willowy wisps of close-packed green strands. As it matures, it takes on a stronger, reed-like appearance and stands straight and tall in the reflective brown water of the field. And at harvest, the water recedes and the plant takes on a yellowish-brown hue, ready to be taken for preparation into the form that finds itself onto our plates. The terraced rice paddies were so visually-astounding, and even more impressive was the ingenious irrigation system that gave sustenance to it all. As I marveled at the ingenuity of the engineering of it all, little did I know I'd experience it right at the source later that day.
It took almost two hours to reach Mount Rinjani, and as the incline grew so did my excitement as we climbed towards the cloud-covered peaks ahead. Mr. Mamine helped us find a hiking guide, and we set off with a thin but sturdy-looking Indoesian man in his young twenties. I was wearing my sturdy and trusty Chaco sandals, Landon was in tennis shoes, and our guide was in flimsy flip-flops that looked like they were from the sale bin at WalMart. I was amazed that he could hike in them along the steep path and slippery stones when we crossed the river, but he was a fearless leader as we made our way to the first waterfall. Landon and I were stunned by the seventy-five meter wall of white water that pounded into the pool below with enough force to kill anyone beneath it. It freely fell from a giant rock ledge covered in an array of greenery so varied that I could hardly count the number of different plants. The mist surrounding the waterfall was enough to soak us in seconds, and I closed my eyes to take in the fresh scent and feel the coolness on my sweaty skin. I smiled at a mother bathing her child in a calm area of the stream. Her naked daughter was gleefully splashing around as she tried to shampoo her hair.
The hike to the second waterfall was about twenty-five minutes from the first, and we had to cross the strong, swiftly-flowing water several times to continue on our way. All the while I had been noticing that the water rushing downhill was being carefully directed by man-made stone gutters and tunnels. It was really quite amazing how carefully placed and extensive the system was, and we crossed a neatly-placed bridge over one particularly rapid-flowing portion. We reached the second and greatest waterfall, and stood in awe at its massive power and beauty. This one stood even higher than the first, violently throwing infinite gallons of water into the deep blue pool below it. Landon and I had both worn our swimsuits and we took long, cool dips into the pool, losing our breath instantly in the clean cold. I will tell you that being in a bikini on a primarily Islamic island (Lombok is about 90% Islam, 10% Hindu, quite the opposite of Bali), makes one quite popular, and I was asked to pose in the photos of four teenage boys that were also visiting the waterfall. Landon thought it was hilarious and jumped in all the pictures as well, and I only wish that we had captured the moment with our camera too.
After several more swims in the pool and many minutes of quiet reflection on its beauty, we began our hike back continuing along the same path until we crossed the bridge and came upon one of the tunnels I had seen earlier.
"Want to go in?" Our guide asked, motioning toward the gaping black hole of the tunnel.
"In there?" I squeaked. Surely he was joking.
"Yeah! We go back through irrigation tunnel."
And we did. Though I was scared, I felt like it was an exciting adventure so we climbed down into the gutter and stepped into the unkown blackness of the tunnels. The water was to the middle of my thighs and flowing very fast and strong. If I lifted my feet up for too long it would carry me away. Every few meters were small openings to let in a little daylight, but it really only provided enough light for me to see the occasional bat swopping by my face. We made our way through the tunnels for what seemed like an eternity, Landon touching my back when it was pitch black to make sure I was still there, and I in turn reaching out for the certainty of our guide's cotton shirt. We finally emerged in the sunshine, and climbed out of the gutter and back onto the path.
"Special tour." Our guide grinned, and he was right.
We had lunch at a restaurant that hung off the side of the mountain, still able to enjoy the wild beauty around us while sipping traditional Lombok coffee and eating chicken with spicy chili sauce. From our table you could see the first waterfall behind us, the other side of the green valley across us, and the terraced rice paddies ahead of us. As views go, it really doesn't get any better.
We finished our time on Mount Rinjani with a visit to a Sasak Village, the traditional way of living for the people of northern Lombok. It was a well-organized tiny city of huts whose walls were composed of intricately-woven bamboo and roofs were made of palm fronds. They stored their rice and grain in smaller huts elevated several feet off the ground, under which goats and roosters rooted the ground for food. Handwoven baskets hung all around, useful for many purposes from swinging a crying baby to catching a wiley chicken. This way of living was quite different than the Balinese compound we'd seen the day earlier, and I was glad to get yet another view of a culture so different than my own. Cacao, mango and cashew trees lined the village, and from its edges there were magnificent views of the mountains and valleys surrounding it. I wished we'd had more time to do a trek up Mount Rinjani, but it takes about 2-3 days and we wanted to see more of Lombok and the Gilli Islands. Guess we'll just have to come back. :)
On the drive down the mountain, we stopped at Taman Wisata Tetebatu, or the Monkey Forest, to feed the monkeys that had made the mountainside their home. We had passed several on our way up, standing like dedicated sentries along rails and stumps lining the road. With our bag of peanuts we approached a few of them, which soon turned into a massive crowd of hopping, chattering beasts! One particularly aggressive fellow as intent on having all the peanuts for himself. While Landon held a few in his hand while taking a picture of me, the greedy fellow climbed up his leg and latched onto his wrist in an attempt to get at the peanuts. Landon would have none of it and shook him off, but this didn't deter him much as the cheeky monkey later gave me a good slap across the calves when I ran out of peanuts. I tell you, my view of monkeys has changed drastically since coming to Asia. Don't get me wrong, I still adore them, but I have become well-accquainted with their selfish and greedy behaviors!
We dined by candelight on the ocean terrace again, talking about our incredibly fun day and planning our trip to the Gilli Islands by boat tomorrow. We plan on snorkeling and hopping between the three islands that are rumored to be so incredibly lovely and exotic.
I couldn't believe how beautiful the island was as we wound along the coast, in and out of palm tree forests and across rivers. The scenery was constantly changing. We wound up high cliffs that offered expansive views of the turqouise inlets that flowed into beaches and then the tall green mountains behind them. The sand was so pristine-white that it assumed the deep blues and greens of the water as it sloped off the beach. There was such stark topographical contrast between the towering mountains and the ocean, and endless wonder that stretched in between nature's great monuments. We passed enormous fields of rice paddies in all stages of growth and harvest. When the rice is very young and tender, it forms willowy wisps of close-packed green strands. As it matures, it takes on a stronger, reed-like appearance and stands straight and tall in the reflective brown water of the field. And at harvest, the water recedes and the plant takes on a yellowish-brown hue, ready to be taken for preparation into the form that finds itself onto our plates. The terraced rice paddies were so visually-astounding, and even more impressive was the ingenious irrigation system that gave sustenance to it all. As I marveled at the ingenuity of the engineering of it all, little did I know I'd experience it right at the source later that day.
It took almost two hours to reach Mount Rinjani, and as the incline grew so did my excitement as we climbed towards the cloud-covered peaks ahead. Mr. Mamine helped us find a hiking guide, and we set off with a thin but sturdy-looking Indoesian man in his young twenties. I was wearing my sturdy and trusty Chaco sandals, Landon was in tennis shoes, and our guide was in flimsy flip-flops that looked like they were from the sale bin at WalMart. I was amazed that he could hike in them along the steep path and slippery stones when we crossed the river, but he was a fearless leader as we made our way to the first waterfall. Landon and I were stunned by the seventy-five meter wall of white water that pounded into the pool below with enough force to kill anyone beneath it. It freely fell from a giant rock ledge covered in an array of greenery so varied that I could hardly count the number of different plants. The mist surrounding the waterfall was enough to soak us in seconds, and I closed my eyes to take in the fresh scent and feel the coolness on my sweaty skin. I smiled at a mother bathing her child in a calm area of the stream. Her naked daughter was gleefully splashing around as she tried to shampoo her hair.
The hike to the second waterfall was about twenty-five minutes from the first, and we had to cross the strong, swiftly-flowing water several times to continue on our way. All the while I had been noticing that the water rushing downhill was being carefully directed by man-made stone gutters and tunnels. It was really quite amazing how carefully placed and extensive the system was, and we crossed a neatly-placed bridge over one particularly rapid-flowing portion. We reached the second and greatest waterfall, and stood in awe at its massive power and beauty. This one stood even higher than the first, violently throwing infinite gallons of water into the deep blue pool below it. Landon and I had both worn our swimsuits and we took long, cool dips into the pool, losing our breath instantly in the clean cold. I will tell you that being in a bikini on a primarily Islamic island (Lombok is about 90% Islam, 10% Hindu, quite the opposite of Bali), makes one quite popular, and I was asked to pose in the photos of four teenage boys that were also visiting the waterfall. Landon thought it was hilarious and jumped in all the pictures as well, and I only wish that we had captured the moment with our camera too.
After several more swims in the pool and many minutes of quiet reflection on its beauty, we began our hike back continuing along the same path until we crossed the bridge and came upon one of the tunnels I had seen earlier.
"Want to go in?" Our guide asked, motioning toward the gaping black hole of the tunnel.
"In there?" I squeaked. Surely he was joking.
"Yeah! We go back through irrigation tunnel."
And we did. Though I was scared, I felt like it was an exciting adventure so we climbed down into the gutter and stepped into the unkown blackness of the tunnels. The water was to the middle of my thighs and flowing very fast and strong. If I lifted my feet up for too long it would carry me away. Every few meters were small openings to let in a little daylight, but it really only provided enough light for me to see the occasional bat swopping by my face. We made our way through the tunnels for what seemed like an eternity, Landon touching my back when it was pitch black to make sure I was still there, and I in turn reaching out for the certainty of our guide's cotton shirt. We finally emerged in the sunshine, and climbed out of the gutter and back onto the path.
"Special tour." Our guide grinned, and he was right.
We had lunch at a restaurant that hung off the side of the mountain, still able to enjoy the wild beauty around us while sipping traditional Lombok coffee and eating chicken with spicy chili sauce. From our table you could see the first waterfall behind us, the other side of the green valley across us, and the terraced rice paddies ahead of us. As views go, it really doesn't get any better.
We finished our time on Mount Rinjani with a visit to a Sasak Village, the traditional way of living for the people of northern Lombok. It was a well-organized tiny city of huts whose walls were composed of intricately-woven bamboo and roofs were made of palm fronds. They stored their rice and grain in smaller huts elevated several feet off the ground, under which goats and roosters rooted the ground for food. Handwoven baskets hung all around, useful for many purposes from swinging a crying baby to catching a wiley chicken. This way of living was quite different than the Balinese compound we'd seen the day earlier, and I was glad to get yet another view of a culture so different than my own. Cacao, mango and cashew trees lined the village, and from its edges there were magnificent views of the mountains and valleys surrounding it. I wished we'd had more time to do a trek up Mount Rinjani, but it takes about 2-3 days and we wanted to see more of Lombok and the Gilli Islands. Guess we'll just have to come back. :)
On the drive down the mountain, we stopped at Taman Wisata Tetebatu, or the Monkey Forest, to feed the monkeys that had made the mountainside their home. We had passed several on our way up, standing like dedicated sentries along rails and stumps lining the road. With our bag of peanuts we approached a few of them, which soon turned into a massive crowd of hopping, chattering beasts! One particularly aggressive fellow as intent on having all the peanuts for himself. While Landon held a few in his hand while taking a picture of me, the greedy fellow climbed up his leg and latched onto his wrist in an attempt to get at the peanuts. Landon would have none of it and shook him off, but this didn't deter him much as the cheeky monkey later gave me a good slap across the calves when I ran out of peanuts. I tell you, my view of monkeys has changed drastically since coming to Asia. Don't get me wrong, I still adore them, but I have become well-accquainted with their selfish and greedy behaviors!
We dined by candelight on the ocean terrace again, talking about our incredibly fun day and planning our trip to the Gilli Islands by boat tomorrow. We plan on snorkeling and hopping between the three islands that are rumored to be so incredibly lovely and exotic.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Bliss in Bali
We awoke to the sound of tropical showers outside our window Sunday morning. Because Landon was still on Oklahoma time he was quite alert while I could barely rouse myself out of bed at the ghastly hour of 8 AM. He excitedly pointed out the gecko climbing our wall, and told me our breakfast would soon be served on the porch outside our room. Still groggy I emerged as one of the charming young Indonesian men that worked at the hotel placed trays on the low table laden with hot coffee, fresh fruit and juice, toast with jam and the typical Indonesian breakfast dish of vegetable fried rice topped with a fried egg. We contentedly sat on the porch for an hour, watching the rain fall on the canopy of green before us, listening to its gentle stacatto on the roof and leaves, enjoying each other's company and our first morning in Bali. The rain let up with the same quick flourish in which it had begun, and we were off to explore Sanur. We walked down the main road and marveled at the happenings of daily life around us. The area in which we stayed had little in the way of tourism, so the scene was quite local as we walked by the warungs (roadside eateries) selling savory satays, children scampering around in the dirt and people hard at work in the surrounding fields.
As intended, our walk led us to to the volcanic black sand beach. I hadn't been to a black sand beach since our visit to the Canary Islands when we studied abroad in Europe, and was reminded of how strikingly beautiful they are, their ebony expanse pulled back and forth by the aquamarine fingers of the tides. From the beach we could see a great expanse of coastline to our right, tall mountains to our left, and straight ahead, a peppering of tiny islands in a haphazard row, as if someone had carelessly tossed them like marbles into the ocean. We walked along the edge of the water for some time, observing the locals performing religious ceremonies in which they placed flowers, food and other items into tiny rafts woven of palm fronds and sent them into the waves. I later saw these offerings everwhere we went in Bali, and learned that they are signs of respect for the gods, ancestors, spirits and demons that are believed to live in Bali. These deities and spiritual beings are all presented with these offerings throughout the day to show respect and gratitude, and in some cases to bribe a particularly mischevious demon. I had read a bit about Indonesian religion before coming, and was surprised by the hodgepodge of belief systems in the archipelago nation. Hinduism was the predominant religion in Indonesia until the great Hindu kingdom, the Majapahit, moved to Bali, thus carrying with them their religion and its rituals. The Balinese, in their characteristic warm and accepting manner, incorporated the Hindu beliefs into their pre-existing animistic religion, and the peculiar Balinese interpretation of Hinduism was born. The Balinese worship the trinity of Brahma, Shiva and Vishnu (as the traditional Hindu religion does), and they also have a supreme god, Sanghyag Widi. Islam is a minority religion on Bali, with many followers on Lombok, the island we were headed to next. There is also the motley assortment of Christian and Jewish practioners in Bali as well.
Along with the number of people performing these religious offerings were many fisherman, floating their boats out to sea in hopes of a successful fishing day. Our walk took us to the main beach strip, where we passed many beachfront restaurants, warungs and shops where everyone urged us to come look at their excellent merchandise for "special prices". We walked around for bit along the strip and in the main town, then settled down on some reclining lounge chairs near the water for the bargain price of 100,000 Rupiah (10,000 Rupiah equal 1 US Dollar...quite the exchange rate here). No sooner had we sat down when I felt two strong hands rubbing my shoulers.
"You want nice Balinese massage? Very cheap. I give you good scrub too. Very cheap. Very nice."
I turned to see a tiny but stout Balinese woman in jean shorts and a tank top, her hands working vigorously to loosen the tension in my shoulders. My Aunt Nettie had told me about the fabulous massages she had received in Bali, and she wasn't joking. For about 10 bucks I had the best massage of my life, right on the beach for an entire hour. This woman had the strongest hands I had every felt, and used them to attack every muscle in my body. She massaged oil everywhere, even into my hair! She tried to give one to Landon, but her magic didn't work on him and I heard her calling out to others as she walked off,
"Nice massage! Very cheap!"
We were soon approached by another Balinese businessperson, this time a man named Made (pronounced "Mod-e" with a long "e" at the end. He wanted us to give us his very special tour of Bali, all for the bargain price of 600,000 Rupiah. He was quite astonished when I used the bargaining skills I had accquired in India and got him down to 250,000.
"Wow! I've never known an American that can bargain like her!" He said to Landon.
He was honestly very sweet and funny, and we agreed to have him pick us up at 4 PM at our hotel to take us to Pura Luhur Ulu Watu for the evening to see the sacred temple and to watch the traditional Balinese Kecak dance on the cliffs at sunset. On our walk back home, we made yet another friend. A jolly gentleman in his sixties who loved Americans because he could practice his English with them. He walked the whole 1.5 miles home with us, chattering all the way about the Monica Lewinsky scandal, his love of custom-tailored suits and how much he loved President Obama. I was a little sad to see him part ways with us, and I smiled at all the new friends we seemed to meet everywhere we went in Indonesia.
Made was exactly on time as promised and was a sensational conversationalist as he drove us the 1.5 hours to Ulu Watu. He told us many fascinating things about Indonesia and Bali, one of which was that the celebration of Balinese New Year that began on March 4th with the parade of Ogoh-Ogoh's around the island before the day of silence (Nyepi Day) on March 5th. The Balinese build these giant, paper-mache monsters (the Ogoh-Ogoh's), and parade them around the entire island in a racuous manner to chase away the bad and evil spirits from Bali in preparation for Nyepi Day to welcome in the Balinese new year. Landon and I were thrilled that we didn't leave until late evening on the 4th, so we'd be able to see the Ogoh-Ogoh's marching down the streets of Bali.
Made walked us from the car to the base of the temple, first helping us buy the sarong and sash that was required of all people in accordance with the laws of the sacred temple. I noticed that he had a limp, and asked him what happened. He told me that he'd had polio as a young child, and as a result, had partial loss of function of his left leg. I told him that I was terribly sorry that he had suffered from the terrible disease, and he said to me,
"But why? I am happy? This is my blessing to be alive."
And once again I saw the humble and graceful spirit that I had met so many times in India. What may seem like misfortune to so many is but a reminder of the gift of life to others. It's all relative to where you're coming from, I suppose.
Made warned us to take off every speck of jewelry, watches and sunglasses, because the hordes of monkeys around the temple were trained to steal people's stuff by the peanut vendors around the temple. To get your stuff back, you had to pay outrageous prices to the sellers to get some peanuts in order to make a trade with these badly-behaved furry fellows. He was certainly right, and I watched as a girl had a flip-flop stolen right off her foot. I saw another monkey perched on top of the wall, thoughtfully chewing a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses. Nonetheless we enjoyed walking through the temple, built to honor the spirits of the sea along the south coast of Bali. The temple is perched precipitously on the cliffs of the southwestern peninsula, and below it is a sheer drop to the raging surf. The temple was quite beautiful with many archways and stone carvings, and the small inner temple is still an active and private place for Hindu worship. The best part of it all, however, was the enchanting view from atop the cliffs. We had unhindered glances down both sides of the coast, and witnessed an incredible and brilliant sunset as we leaned against the temple walls.
The dance ceremony began right around sundown, and we sat on stone benches and watched a fascinating story from the Ramayana (one of the great Hindu holy books) of Prince Rama trying to rescue his beautiful wife Princess Sita when she is stolen from him through a serious of unfortunate events by the evil Rahwana. The dancing was beautiful, and the whole thing was quite entertaining because not only was the entire dance accompanied by a choir of thirty-five loudly chanting bare-chested men, but there was scene in which Hanuman, the white-monkey god, jumped through a wall of flame then kicked burning piles of grass into the audience in his attack on Rahwana. Landon and I were quite impressed by the pyrotechnics as well as the traditional Balinese dance, and agreed that it was an excellent suggestion by Made and we told him so as we got back in the car and he drove us to dinner in Jimbaran.
We told Made that we wanted fresh seafood for dinner, and again he delivered on his promise by taking us to a restaurant where you dined on the beach and picked out your seafood as they swam in the large tanks you passed when you walked in the restaurant! I felt a little guilty as I eyed the fish I would be eating for dinner, but the red snapper and jumbo prawns were so good any remorse I had was washed away with a gulp of fresh banana juice. We bade Made goodnight with many thanks and a generous tip, thankful for such a fun, cultural and exciting day in Bali.
The next morning Landon had arranged for Banyan Tree Bike Tours to pick us up at our hotel at 7:00 AM to take us into the mountains for a day of touring by bicycle. Our enthusiastic tour guides picked us up promptly at 7 AM and after picking up Petra and Rhiannon, a lovely Australian couple that was staying in touristy and frenetic Kuta beach, we made the 1.5 hour drive to Pacung, a town in the mountains. We stopped for breakfast at a restaurant with open views of the valley and terraced rice paddies below. The air was cool and blew in the rain from the mountains, and I felt so rejuvenated as we drank coffee, ate banana pancakes and gazed in wonder at the beauty below. Our biking guides found out by way of conversation that Rhiannon was in the coffee business at home, so we made a special stop at a coffee plantation so that we could all try Kopi Luwak, one of the world's finest, most-expensive and most curious coffees. Why the curiousity, you ask? Because it is made from the beans of coffee berries which have been eaten by the Civet cat, passed through its digestive tract and then excreted, the coffee beans keeping their shape. The beans are gathered, washed, dried, roasted and brewed, supposedly yielding an aromatic coffee that is smooth and delicious. Supposedly the proteolytic enzymes in the Civet's stomach seep into the beans, digesting the peptides into shorter amino acids and enhancing the flavor. Kopi Luwak is produced mainly on the islands of Bali, Sumatra, Java, Sulawesi and also in the Phillipines, and sells for over $500/kilogram. I of course had to try this world-renowned "sh*t" coffee as Petra called it, and I will admit while very good, I was more fond of another Balinese I sampled whose coffee beans had had a less eventful life course than those in the Kopi Luwak. The plantation grew many other produce, and Landon and I tried the snakeskin fruit for the first time, which was tart, tangy, sweet and delicious, almost the consistency of an unripe pear.
We began our bike tour shortly after the coffee break, and I immeadiately realized that this was the absolute best way to see Bali. Our guides took us on the tiny back roads that wound through villages, past streams, over rivers and on narrow paths directly through the endless fields of rice paddies. In several villages we saw the construction of the Ogoh-Ogoh's under way, and I stopped to take pictures and give my approval to the people hard at work on them. We stopped outside one village at a beautiful temple to Shiva, built at the base of a 200-year-old Banyan tree. I have never seen such a behemoth of a tree! It's trunk was as big as a house, and there were so many roots and individual intertwined branches it was impossible to track them as they spiraled into the massive emerald canopy above us, completing drowning out the sun. Our guide took this opportunity to pick up a spider as big as my hand and let it run up his hands, onto his face and even in and out of his mouth. He thought my squeamishness was hilarious, and passed it to Landon who took equal glee in letting it spin a web between his outstretched fingertips.
We pedaled for several hours in the strong sun, but the breeze was cool and refreshing and I hardly noticed the work because I was constantly transfixed by the sights around me. Around every turn was a beautiful mountain, a flowering tree or a field of startling green, and that's not to mention the parade of local life in the form of hardworking farmers, women washing their clothes and children playing who all stopped to wave at us and smile. We even stopped at a typical Balinese home so we could learn about their traditional way of living. The Balinese live in compounds, with typically three families living within the compound. The compound is surrounded by a high wall, and analagous to the human body, there's a head (the family temple with its ancestral shrine), arms (the sleeping and living areas) legs and feet (the kitchen, storage buildings and gardens). There is one head family whose job is to be in the compound at all times, tending to its daily needs, and the rest of the family can work outside the home to support themselves and the head family. It has been very interesting to see how family units live and function outside the United States, and an underlying theme both in India and Indonesia is a strong sense of community and dependence on one another in daily living, much more so than in the United States.
We ended the day of glorious biking in the home of Bhayan, the owner of Banyan Bike Tours. It was very touching that the tour concluded with a meal of home-booked Indonesian food eaten on his porch while his children played with their puppies in the grass. We ate delicious and spicy Indonesian food while talking with him about everything from world politics to religion to his favorite Indonesian deserts. He spoke at length about the sadness and loss he felt from the October 2002 bombings in Kuta, and said that many Balinese, including himself, are still searching for understanding of the terrorist act and continuing to deal with its ramifications. In an act that killed over 200 people and injured over 300, the peaceful and friendly image of Bali was destroyed in one second along with precious life. Beyond the loss of human life, the bombings were disastrous to the economy and tourism is still recovering, according to Bhayan. He spoke with worry about the terrorist groups that come to Indonesia to recruit impressionalbe young men, saying that any acts of terrorism and hate go against the Indonesian virutes of love and respect for all forms of life. He was a lovely man, and I enjoyed spending the afternoon sitting with everyone on his porch, participating in the discussions but also just listening.
Landon and I were dropped off in Ubud, the cultural center of Bali, after the tour and spent some time perusing the markets and strolling the vibrant streets. We bought a painting of farmers working in the rice paddies to always remind us of the bike ride when we return home, and caught a ride back to Sanur where we lounged by the pool and had an exquisite meal cooked by Braman, Michael's partner and the other owner of The Tropical Bali Hotel.
We were sad to say goodbye to Michael, Braman and the lovely paradise we'd found in Sanur, but excited as we boarded the small plane that would take us to the island of Lombok, just twenty minutes by air from Bali. As we flew to Lombok, I could see the entire expanse of Bali to the right and Java to my left as we crossed the water. As we came in for a landing on Lombok, I could already see that it was a less-traveled, less touristy place. Exactly what we were wanting. We walked through the tiny airport and to the car waiting for us, and I enjoyed the car ride to the hotel, the coast a constant presence through my windows on the left. We arrived at our hotel, which honestly, is the most beautiful and fantastic place I have ever stayed in. We have our own private villa with a curtained bed, outdoor enclosed stone shower and a lovely sitting porch where we were immeadiately served fruity drinks out of an entire pineapple. The grounds of the resort are a tropical paradise that lead directly to an expansive terrace that overlooks the ocean and beach directly below. This truly is paradise, and I am in constant wonder of Landon's skills as a travel planner. Perhaps he should pick it up as a side job.
We watched a magnificent sunset for almost an hour, lingering long after the sun had actually disappeared because the sky kept surprising us with encores of magenta, flourescent pinks and finally deep purples. You could perfectly make out the looming, dark peaks of Bali's volcanoes across the water, and the setting sun provided perfect retro-illumination to the majestic mountains. We dined to the sound of waves crashing agains the sea wall below the restaurant, and are ready to turn in for the night, resting beneath the wispy white cloth of our canopy bed. Ready to start tomorrow anew with a trip around Lombok. Life is good.
As intended, our walk led us to to the volcanic black sand beach. I hadn't been to a black sand beach since our visit to the Canary Islands when we studied abroad in Europe, and was reminded of how strikingly beautiful they are, their ebony expanse pulled back and forth by the aquamarine fingers of the tides. From the beach we could see a great expanse of coastline to our right, tall mountains to our left, and straight ahead, a peppering of tiny islands in a haphazard row, as if someone had carelessly tossed them like marbles into the ocean. We walked along the edge of the water for some time, observing the locals performing religious ceremonies in which they placed flowers, food and other items into tiny rafts woven of palm fronds and sent them into the waves. I later saw these offerings everwhere we went in Bali, and learned that they are signs of respect for the gods, ancestors, spirits and demons that are believed to live in Bali. These deities and spiritual beings are all presented with these offerings throughout the day to show respect and gratitude, and in some cases to bribe a particularly mischevious demon. I had read a bit about Indonesian religion before coming, and was surprised by the hodgepodge of belief systems in the archipelago nation. Hinduism was the predominant religion in Indonesia until the great Hindu kingdom, the Majapahit, moved to Bali, thus carrying with them their religion and its rituals. The Balinese, in their characteristic warm and accepting manner, incorporated the Hindu beliefs into their pre-existing animistic religion, and the peculiar Balinese interpretation of Hinduism was born. The Balinese worship the trinity of Brahma, Shiva and Vishnu (as the traditional Hindu religion does), and they also have a supreme god, Sanghyag Widi. Islam is a minority religion on Bali, with many followers on Lombok, the island we were headed to next. There is also the motley assortment of Christian and Jewish practioners in Bali as well.
Along with the number of people performing these religious offerings were many fisherman, floating their boats out to sea in hopes of a successful fishing day. Our walk took us to the main beach strip, where we passed many beachfront restaurants, warungs and shops where everyone urged us to come look at their excellent merchandise for "special prices". We walked around for bit along the strip and in the main town, then settled down on some reclining lounge chairs near the water for the bargain price of 100,000 Rupiah (10,000 Rupiah equal 1 US Dollar...quite the exchange rate here). No sooner had we sat down when I felt two strong hands rubbing my shoulers.
"You want nice Balinese massage? Very cheap. I give you good scrub too. Very cheap. Very nice."
I turned to see a tiny but stout Balinese woman in jean shorts and a tank top, her hands working vigorously to loosen the tension in my shoulders. My Aunt Nettie had told me about the fabulous massages she had received in Bali, and she wasn't joking. For about 10 bucks I had the best massage of my life, right on the beach for an entire hour. This woman had the strongest hands I had every felt, and used them to attack every muscle in my body. She massaged oil everywhere, even into my hair! She tried to give one to Landon, but her magic didn't work on him and I heard her calling out to others as she walked off,
"Nice massage! Very cheap!"
We were soon approached by another Balinese businessperson, this time a man named Made (pronounced "Mod-e" with a long "e" at the end. He wanted us to give us his very special tour of Bali, all for the bargain price of 600,000 Rupiah. He was quite astonished when I used the bargaining skills I had accquired in India and got him down to 250,000.
"Wow! I've never known an American that can bargain like her!" He said to Landon.
He was honestly very sweet and funny, and we agreed to have him pick us up at 4 PM at our hotel to take us to Pura Luhur Ulu Watu for the evening to see the sacred temple and to watch the traditional Balinese Kecak dance on the cliffs at sunset. On our walk back home, we made yet another friend. A jolly gentleman in his sixties who loved Americans because he could practice his English with them. He walked the whole 1.5 miles home with us, chattering all the way about the Monica Lewinsky scandal, his love of custom-tailored suits and how much he loved President Obama. I was a little sad to see him part ways with us, and I smiled at all the new friends we seemed to meet everywhere we went in Indonesia.
Made was exactly on time as promised and was a sensational conversationalist as he drove us the 1.5 hours to Ulu Watu. He told us many fascinating things about Indonesia and Bali, one of which was that the celebration of Balinese New Year that began on March 4th with the parade of Ogoh-Ogoh's around the island before the day of silence (Nyepi Day) on March 5th. The Balinese build these giant, paper-mache monsters (the Ogoh-Ogoh's), and parade them around the entire island in a racuous manner to chase away the bad and evil spirits from Bali in preparation for Nyepi Day to welcome in the Balinese new year. Landon and I were thrilled that we didn't leave until late evening on the 4th, so we'd be able to see the Ogoh-Ogoh's marching down the streets of Bali.
Made walked us from the car to the base of the temple, first helping us buy the sarong and sash that was required of all people in accordance with the laws of the sacred temple. I noticed that he had a limp, and asked him what happened. He told me that he'd had polio as a young child, and as a result, had partial loss of function of his left leg. I told him that I was terribly sorry that he had suffered from the terrible disease, and he said to me,
"But why? I am happy? This is my blessing to be alive."
And once again I saw the humble and graceful spirit that I had met so many times in India. What may seem like misfortune to so many is but a reminder of the gift of life to others. It's all relative to where you're coming from, I suppose.
Made warned us to take off every speck of jewelry, watches and sunglasses, because the hordes of monkeys around the temple were trained to steal people's stuff by the peanut vendors around the temple. To get your stuff back, you had to pay outrageous prices to the sellers to get some peanuts in order to make a trade with these badly-behaved furry fellows. He was certainly right, and I watched as a girl had a flip-flop stolen right off her foot. I saw another monkey perched on top of the wall, thoughtfully chewing a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses. Nonetheless we enjoyed walking through the temple, built to honor the spirits of the sea along the south coast of Bali. The temple is perched precipitously on the cliffs of the southwestern peninsula, and below it is a sheer drop to the raging surf. The temple was quite beautiful with many archways and stone carvings, and the small inner temple is still an active and private place for Hindu worship. The best part of it all, however, was the enchanting view from atop the cliffs. We had unhindered glances down both sides of the coast, and witnessed an incredible and brilliant sunset as we leaned against the temple walls.
The dance ceremony began right around sundown, and we sat on stone benches and watched a fascinating story from the Ramayana (one of the great Hindu holy books) of Prince Rama trying to rescue his beautiful wife Princess Sita when she is stolen from him through a serious of unfortunate events by the evil Rahwana. The dancing was beautiful, and the whole thing was quite entertaining because not only was the entire dance accompanied by a choir of thirty-five loudly chanting bare-chested men, but there was scene in which Hanuman, the white-monkey god, jumped through a wall of flame then kicked burning piles of grass into the audience in his attack on Rahwana. Landon and I were quite impressed by the pyrotechnics as well as the traditional Balinese dance, and agreed that it was an excellent suggestion by Made and we told him so as we got back in the car and he drove us to dinner in Jimbaran.
We told Made that we wanted fresh seafood for dinner, and again he delivered on his promise by taking us to a restaurant where you dined on the beach and picked out your seafood as they swam in the large tanks you passed when you walked in the restaurant! I felt a little guilty as I eyed the fish I would be eating for dinner, but the red snapper and jumbo prawns were so good any remorse I had was washed away with a gulp of fresh banana juice. We bade Made goodnight with many thanks and a generous tip, thankful for such a fun, cultural and exciting day in Bali.
The next morning Landon had arranged for Banyan Tree Bike Tours to pick us up at our hotel at 7:00 AM to take us into the mountains for a day of touring by bicycle. Our enthusiastic tour guides picked us up promptly at 7 AM and after picking up Petra and Rhiannon, a lovely Australian couple that was staying in touristy and frenetic Kuta beach, we made the 1.5 hour drive to Pacung, a town in the mountains. We stopped for breakfast at a restaurant with open views of the valley and terraced rice paddies below. The air was cool and blew in the rain from the mountains, and I felt so rejuvenated as we drank coffee, ate banana pancakes and gazed in wonder at the beauty below. Our biking guides found out by way of conversation that Rhiannon was in the coffee business at home, so we made a special stop at a coffee plantation so that we could all try Kopi Luwak, one of the world's finest, most-expensive and most curious coffees. Why the curiousity, you ask? Because it is made from the beans of coffee berries which have been eaten by the Civet cat, passed through its digestive tract and then excreted, the coffee beans keeping their shape. The beans are gathered, washed, dried, roasted and brewed, supposedly yielding an aromatic coffee that is smooth and delicious. Supposedly the proteolytic enzymes in the Civet's stomach seep into the beans, digesting the peptides into shorter amino acids and enhancing the flavor. Kopi Luwak is produced mainly on the islands of Bali, Sumatra, Java, Sulawesi and also in the Phillipines, and sells for over $500/kilogram. I of course had to try this world-renowned "sh*t" coffee as Petra called it, and I will admit while very good, I was more fond of another Balinese I sampled whose coffee beans had had a less eventful life course than those in the Kopi Luwak. The plantation grew many other produce, and Landon and I tried the snakeskin fruit for the first time, which was tart, tangy, sweet and delicious, almost the consistency of an unripe pear.
We began our bike tour shortly after the coffee break, and I immeadiately realized that this was the absolute best way to see Bali. Our guides took us on the tiny back roads that wound through villages, past streams, over rivers and on narrow paths directly through the endless fields of rice paddies. In several villages we saw the construction of the Ogoh-Ogoh's under way, and I stopped to take pictures and give my approval to the people hard at work on them. We stopped outside one village at a beautiful temple to Shiva, built at the base of a 200-year-old Banyan tree. I have never seen such a behemoth of a tree! It's trunk was as big as a house, and there were so many roots and individual intertwined branches it was impossible to track them as they spiraled into the massive emerald canopy above us, completing drowning out the sun. Our guide took this opportunity to pick up a spider as big as my hand and let it run up his hands, onto his face and even in and out of his mouth. He thought my squeamishness was hilarious, and passed it to Landon who took equal glee in letting it spin a web between his outstretched fingertips.
We pedaled for several hours in the strong sun, but the breeze was cool and refreshing and I hardly noticed the work because I was constantly transfixed by the sights around me. Around every turn was a beautiful mountain, a flowering tree or a field of startling green, and that's not to mention the parade of local life in the form of hardworking farmers, women washing their clothes and children playing who all stopped to wave at us and smile. We even stopped at a typical Balinese home so we could learn about their traditional way of living. The Balinese live in compounds, with typically three families living within the compound. The compound is surrounded by a high wall, and analagous to the human body, there's a head (the family temple with its ancestral shrine), arms (the sleeping and living areas) legs and feet (the kitchen, storage buildings and gardens). There is one head family whose job is to be in the compound at all times, tending to its daily needs, and the rest of the family can work outside the home to support themselves and the head family. It has been very interesting to see how family units live and function outside the United States, and an underlying theme both in India and Indonesia is a strong sense of community and dependence on one another in daily living, much more so than in the United States.
We ended the day of glorious biking in the home of Bhayan, the owner of Banyan Bike Tours. It was very touching that the tour concluded with a meal of home-booked Indonesian food eaten on his porch while his children played with their puppies in the grass. We ate delicious and spicy Indonesian food while talking with him about everything from world politics to religion to his favorite Indonesian deserts. He spoke at length about the sadness and loss he felt from the October 2002 bombings in Kuta, and said that many Balinese, including himself, are still searching for understanding of the terrorist act and continuing to deal with its ramifications. In an act that killed over 200 people and injured over 300, the peaceful and friendly image of Bali was destroyed in one second along with precious life. Beyond the loss of human life, the bombings were disastrous to the economy and tourism is still recovering, according to Bhayan. He spoke with worry about the terrorist groups that come to Indonesia to recruit impressionalbe young men, saying that any acts of terrorism and hate go against the Indonesian virutes of love and respect for all forms of life. He was a lovely man, and I enjoyed spending the afternoon sitting with everyone on his porch, participating in the discussions but also just listening.
Landon and I were dropped off in Ubud, the cultural center of Bali, after the tour and spent some time perusing the markets and strolling the vibrant streets. We bought a painting of farmers working in the rice paddies to always remind us of the bike ride when we return home, and caught a ride back to Sanur where we lounged by the pool and had an exquisite meal cooked by Braman, Michael's partner and the other owner of The Tropical Bali Hotel.
We were sad to say goodbye to Michael, Braman and the lovely paradise we'd found in Sanur, but excited as we boarded the small plane that would take us to the island of Lombok, just twenty minutes by air from Bali. As we flew to Lombok, I could see the entire expanse of Bali to the right and Java to my left as we crossed the water. As we came in for a landing on Lombok, I could already see that it was a less-traveled, less touristy place. Exactly what we were wanting. We walked through the tiny airport and to the car waiting for us, and I enjoyed the car ride to the hotel, the coast a constant presence through my windows on the left. We arrived at our hotel, which honestly, is the most beautiful and fantastic place I have ever stayed in. We have our own private villa with a curtained bed, outdoor enclosed stone shower and a lovely sitting porch where we were immeadiately served fruity drinks out of an entire pineapple. The grounds of the resort are a tropical paradise that lead directly to an expansive terrace that overlooks the ocean and beach directly below. This truly is paradise, and I am in constant wonder of Landon's skills as a travel planner. Perhaps he should pick it up as a side job.
We watched a magnificent sunset for almost an hour, lingering long after the sun had actually disappeared because the sky kept surprising us with encores of magenta, flourescent pinks and finally deep purples. You could perfectly make out the looming, dark peaks of Bali's volcanoes across the water, and the setting sun provided perfect retro-illumination to the majestic mountains. We dined to the sound of waves crashing agains the sea wall below the restaurant, and are ready to turn in for the night, resting beneath the wispy white cloth of our canopy bed. Ready to start tomorrow anew with a trip around Lombok. Life is good.
Beyond India: A reunion in Singapore then off to Bali
With sadness I watched India fall away as my plane climbed into the sky, however I knew that it meant Landon was getting that much closer! The flight from Chennai to Singapore was a little over three hours, and by the time it arrived I could hardly contain my excitement in seeing Landon. I rushed through immigration as quickly as possible (though noting that on my stamped immigration card was posted: "Bringing drugs into Singapore is punishable by death.". Wow. They sure take that seriously.), and when I emerged in the baggage claim area I could make out a lone dark-haired figure behind the glass, watching the crowds. Not sure, I waved, and when the figure waved back I knew it was him, and further confirmed it when I got closer and saw his smiling face. I could barely contain myself as I waited for what seemed like millenia to get my bag and go through customs, then finally I rushed into his arms and took a deep breath of his special scent that I'd missed for the past month.
"Hi.". Was all I could manage.
"Hi. I missed you.". He said simply.
"Thanks for coming." I said, which he found quite funny as we headed off to the metro. He groaned as he picked up my backpacking backpack which continues to weigh more the longer I am around shopping opportunities.
Landon had figured out the Singapore metro system when he had arrived several hours earlier and had already checked into our hotel, so I enjoyed being led back to the Hotel Ibis on Bencoolen Road, and chattered his ear off about India, traveling and everything we had to catch up on. He was very keen on my henna tatooes, and was surprised at how orange the stain was since I'd only sent him pictures of the designs in black when they had first been applied. I was quite happy to arrive at the hotel and rest a bit, enjoying the A/C, cable TV, Western toilet with toilet paper and a hot shower. It was late and Landon was jet-lagged, so we ate in the hotel and had Singapore Slings along with barbecued stingray, shrimp tempura and crab straight out of the claw. It felt wonderful to fall asleep next to Landon, and I woke up several times to reach out and touch him, making sure he was really there.
Our flight to Bali was to leave Singapire around 5:30 PM, so we had a relaxing breakfast of fresh fruit and other delicious items then went to see the city. Singapore is an amazing, modern and lovely city! It's very progressive, with the tall necks of building cranes poking their heads up everywhere like elegant swans along the city skyline. The streets and sidewalks are incredibly clean and well-kept parks and gardens are found on every city block. The city's population is an intruiging potpurri of Asian nations-Japanese, Chinese, Phillipino, Vietnamese-that combine to make one super hip and trendy Singapore population. Riding the metro, it seemed that everyone had an electronic device in their hand. A tiny, shriveled old man texting on his iPhone sat next to a teenage boy playing on a game pad that I haven't even seen before.
Our first stop was Fort Canning Park, the most historic part of Singapore. Malay and Chinese historical records show that the hill on which the park and fort stand was the center of the Malysian kingdom, called Temasek, that arose around 1300 A.D. The site was chosen for settlement by Sri Tri Buana, ruler of Temasek and the one reputed to have been the fabled lion for which he named the island 'Singapura', or Lion City. Because of its geographical location, Singapore was a valuable port city and highly sought after by many ancient Asian civilizations like the Siamese, Javanese and Majapahit. We saw its bloody and violent history depicted on several stone carvings along the walls of the fort. Beleaguered by attacks, the last known ruler of Temasek fled around the early 1500's and except for minimal portside activity, the island of Singapore essentially disappeared until it was re-discovered by the British. From about 1860-1970, the beautiful hill was used as a military base, first by the British, then by the Japanese in WWII and lastly by the Republic's armed forces. Now this forbidden city turned far East command center of the British empire turned city park is a lovely place where people can enjoy a stroll, listen to concerts or attend art performances. Landon and I walked through the spice garden and archaeological dig site, and then just sat on a wooden bench for awhile, enjoying the way the tall green trees framed the towering skyscrapers in the background.
We later walked along the river then through Singapore's booming financial district. The most impressive building was a set of three neighboring skyscrapers that had what looked like an enormous cruise ship that stretched across the three of them. We took a half-hour ride on the Singapore Flyer, the world's largest observation wheel, and were rewarded with incredible views of the city and its surrounding turquoise waters dotted with islands. We ate 'hot plate' on the campus of SingaporeManagement University, then headed back to our hotel to pick up our bags and catch the metro to the airport. We were both very excited to board our plane to Bali, and it was funny to track our progress on the electronic map on the screens of the airplane seatbacks. Flying from home to Bali would take nearly thirty hours, but it was just a short trip from Singapore, not even enough time to watch an in-flight movie. I love being in this part of the world! All the traveling possibilities...
Upon arrival in Denpasar, Bali's capitol city, we purchased our Indonesian visas for $25 a piece, went through immigration and were greeted by our driver from the Tropical Bali hotel. He skillfully wove through Indonesian traffic, a flavor entirely different than India's. It was a little slower-paced and people respected the lane space slightly more, but there were many times more people on motorbikes, weaving in and out of our car's headlights, their helmets reflecting the light. I was relieved to see that they actually wear helmets here, and you don't see the typical helmetless mother, father and two children on one bike combo as frequently (though there are still plenty of helmetless children on them, riding with their parents). Apparently helmet-wearing is strictly enforced, according to Landon, who keeps surprising me with delightful tidbits of information that he has picked up from his frequent reading. It's so much fun to not only travel with my fabulous husband, but someone who is as curious as I am about every aspect of the land and culture we are in. He loves talking to the locals, and easily makes friends here. We passed by areas that were quite modern, like shopping malls and McDonald's, but it soon faded away as we left Denpasar in pursuit of Sanur, a more quiet small town on the coast. We turned off the main road onto a thin, rocky path lined by green cornfields on one side, then into the small driveway of the Tropical Bali hotel. Though it was dark, I could immeadiately tell what a charming place Landon had found for us. We were quickly greeted by one of the owners, Michael, an ex-patriate from Sweden with a gentle and friendly manner that matched his small frame and kind eyes. He showed us to our room for the first night, just off the red-tiled front room that had a couch and an enormous filled bookcase, and was open on two-sides: one to a wooden staircase and the other to the beautiful garden. He took our breakfast orders for the next morning and wished us goodnight, and we both read for a bit before falling asleep to the sounds of the wild inhabitants of the Balinese night outside our open windows.
"Hi.". Was all I could manage.
"Hi. I missed you.". He said simply.
"Thanks for coming." I said, which he found quite funny as we headed off to the metro. He groaned as he picked up my backpacking backpack which continues to weigh more the longer I am around shopping opportunities.
Landon had figured out the Singapore metro system when he had arrived several hours earlier and had already checked into our hotel, so I enjoyed being led back to the Hotel Ibis on Bencoolen Road, and chattered his ear off about India, traveling and everything we had to catch up on. He was very keen on my henna tatooes, and was surprised at how orange the stain was since I'd only sent him pictures of the designs in black when they had first been applied. I was quite happy to arrive at the hotel and rest a bit, enjoying the A/C, cable TV, Western toilet with toilet paper and a hot shower. It was late and Landon was jet-lagged, so we ate in the hotel and had Singapore Slings along with barbecued stingray, shrimp tempura and crab straight out of the claw. It felt wonderful to fall asleep next to Landon, and I woke up several times to reach out and touch him, making sure he was really there.
Our flight to Bali was to leave Singapire around 5:30 PM, so we had a relaxing breakfast of fresh fruit and other delicious items then went to see the city. Singapore is an amazing, modern and lovely city! It's very progressive, with the tall necks of building cranes poking their heads up everywhere like elegant swans along the city skyline. The streets and sidewalks are incredibly clean and well-kept parks and gardens are found on every city block. The city's population is an intruiging potpurri of Asian nations-Japanese, Chinese, Phillipino, Vietnamese-that combine to make one super hip and trendy Singapore population. Riding the metro, it seemed that everyone had an electronic device in their hand. A tiny, shriveled old man texting on his iPhone sat next to a teenage boy playing on a game pad that I haven't even seen before.
Our first stop was Fort Canning Park, the most historic part of Singapore. Malay and Chinese historical records show that the hill on which the park and fort stand was the center of the Malysian kingdom, called Temasek, that arose around 1300 A.D. The site was chosen for settlement by Sri Tri Buana, ruler of Temasek and the one reputed to have been the fabled lion for which he named the island 'Singapura', or Lion City. Because of its geographical location, Singapore was a valuable port city and highly sought after by many ancient Asian civilizations like the Siamese, Javanese and Majapahit. We saw its bloody and violent history depicted on several stone carvings along the walls of the fort. Beleaguered by attacks, the last known ruler of Temasek fled around the early 1500's and except for minimal portside activity, the island of Singapore essentially disappeared until it was re-discovered by the British. From about 1860-1970, the beautiful hill was used as a military base, first by the British, then by the Japanese in WWII and lastly by the Republic's armed forces. Now this forbidden city turned far East command center of the British empire turned city park is a lovely place where people can enjoy a stroll, listen to concerts or attend art performances. Landon and I walked through the spice garden and archaeological dig site, and then just sat on a wooden bench for awhile, enjoying the way the tall green trees framed the towering skyscrapers in the background.
We later walked along the river then through Singapore's booming financial district. The most impressive building was a set of three neighboring skyscrapers that had what looked like an enormous cruise ship that stretched across the three of them. We took a half-hour ride on the Singapore Flyer, the world's largest observation wheel, and were rewarded with incredible views of the city and its surrounding turquoise waters dotted with islands. We ate 'hot plate' on the campus of SingaporeManagement University, then headed back to our hotel to pick up our bags and catch the metro to the airport. We were both very excited to board our plane to Bali, and it was funny to track our progress on the electronic map on the screens of the airplane seatbacks. Flying from home to Bali would take nearly thirty hours, but it was just a short trip from Singapore, not even enough time to watch an in-flight movie. I love being in this part of the world! All the traveling possibilities...
Upon arrival in Denpasar, Bali's capitol city, we purchased our Indonesian visas for $25 a piece, went through immigration and were greeted by our driver from the Tropical Bali hotel. He skillfully wove through Indonesian traffic, a flavor entirely different than India's. It was a little slower-paced and people respected the lane space slightly more, but there were many times more people on motorbikes, weaving in and out of our car's headlights, their helmets reflecting the light. I was relieved to see that they actually wear helmets here, and you don't see the typical helmetless mother, father and two children on one bike combo as frequently (though there are still plenty of helmetless children on them, riding with their parents). Apparently helmet-wearing is strictly enforced, according to Landon, who keeps surprising me with delightful tidbits of information that he has picked up from his frequent reading. It's so much fun to not only travel with my fabulous husband, but someone who is as curious as I am about every aspect of the land and culture we are in. He loves talking to the locals, and easily makes friends here. We passed by areas that were quite modern, like shopping malls and McDonald's, but it soon faded away as we left Denpasar in pursuit of Sanur, a more quiet small town on the coast. We turned off the main road onto a thin, rocky path lined by green cornfields on one side, then into the small driveway of the Tropical Bali hotel. Though it was dark, I could immeadiately tell what a charming place Landon had found for us. We were quickly greeted by one of the owners, Michael, an ex-patriate from Sweden with a gentle and friendly manner that matched his small frame and kind eyes. He showed us to our room for the first night, just off the red-tiled front room that had a couch and an enormous filled bookcase, and was open on two-sides: one to a wooden staircase and the other to the beautiful garden. He took our breakfast orders for the next morning and wished us goodnight, and we both read for a bit before falling asleep to the sounds of the wild inhabitants of the Balinese night outside our open windows.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)