Thursday, February 28, 2013

High Up in Senaru - A photo blog this time

The view from our hotel in Senaru - see the waterfall in the middle and  mist in the valley
Mt. Rinjani in the background.
On the way to Senaru -a view into the mountains - I think
that is Mt. Rinjani in the background
The beautiful, lushly landscaped mountain place we stayed -
very cool and rainy there.
We hiked to the same waterfall that is pictured above
Visited the local indigenous village of Sasak people.
They still live the same way they have for hundreds of years.

The animals live in close proximity
Sasak family
Sasak  family
Chief's house - he has a way nicer house than the others.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Loving it in Lombok


Tetabatu, Lombok, Indonesia

Left Ubud early this morning in a van with 6 people on the Intrepid tour of Lombok. It’s me and 5 other guys and Sukio, our Javanese tour guide. It is a companionable group of insatiable travelers – a  jolly pair of partners Ernie and Clintus from Chicago who are  a lot of fun, Steven, a very laid-back pharmacist from Ladysmith on Vancouver Island, Richard, a retired financier from Sheffield, England who had just returned from hiking the mountains of Borneo, and Alan, a chubby mostly deaf guy from Melbourne, Australia whose English is barely intelligible because of deafness and lack of teeth. Four of them have already spent a week together touring Bali on another Intrepid tour that backs up to this one and arrived at the hotel yesterday with a much larger group that was predominantly young backpackers.

An hour and a half through beautiful and exotic Balinese countryside brought us to the standard third world ferry dock where throngs of people waited in unintelligible order to board for unknown parts.
Five hour ferry ride – rough in the middle – no seasickness for me (pre-trip Dramamine did the trick)  lots of long limbed young backpackers- So rough they closed the ferries after ours and no one could leave Lombok. Our travel lunch of local Balinese food was packed in a banana leaf "lunch box" - the other passengers were very jealous.

 
Followed big trucks with noxious fumes off ferry into parking lot looking for our van and instead there waited a big 24 person luxury air-conditioned bus for just the 7 of us and the two drivers. Odd but easy to get used to – luggage stored safely inside, everyone can stretch out in comfort and get a good seat. Not the usual Intrepid tour way; everyone is surprised.Went inland, away from tourist areas through lots of traffic and then finally into smaller villages and up to higher altitudes to beautiful Tetebatu where we stopped for the night at the Green Orry Inn, a quiet resort hotel with a view of pastoral green rice paddies and a conference of Indonesian agents from all different island there to discuss rural economic development!
90% of the people are Muslim here, but it is very mixed with Asian culture. There are mosques everywhere, and calls to prayer blast out of loudspeakers several times a day, starting at 4:30 am. Women wear headscarves, cover shoulders, most local people wear sarongs, very similar in many ways to Polynesia. But very very friendly – EVERYONE is happy to see us everywhere – we feel like rock stars or the queen in our fancy bus.
All exhausted from 8 hour day of travel – dinner at the hotel and bed. Being the only woman, I always get my own room and nice double bed.

Next morning we hiked through rice paddies, walking on dikes and narrow muddy paths, learning about first and second class rice, wandering through local yards, stopping for local Lombok coffee and vanilla drink and then hiking on up and up, not a flat walk at all. Was worried about my back but it was all fine, a three hour walk, as long as I have snacks I am fine – in fact my back hasn’t felt so good in months – I can even sit cross-legged now.
After the walk we went to another small village where everybody does pottery – all the women, that is. 


Our guide was a teacher at the high school and brought his students along to practice their English. It was a great cultural exchange. Then we went to a village that specialized in weaving, where we had a traditional lunch of all Sasak specialties  and then visited various women weavers throughout the village. Sasak are the indigenous people of Lombok. They live in very densely populated villages, most are very poor but still you will see satellite dishes on houses and many, many of them have cell phones.

Late in the day, we were lucky enough to catch a Muslim wedding parade going right past our hotel (we saw several wedding parades coming from the ferry to Tetebatu). The bride is always very sad and serious (as well she should be!) and sometimes the groom is too. But the wedding guests are always very joyous, dancing and reveling to loud music as they move through the streets.

Loving Lombok…

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Kacek


Last night I went to another traditional Balinese performance, this one called Kacek, a fire  dance. It was moved "indoors" because of possible rain and I was led down the street by an old woman to an alleyway that I had not previously noticed that led to a huge beautiful open temple pavilion. Maybe 30-40 people watched a show by at least that many.Barechested men of all ages wearing the traditional black and white check sarong, sat crosslegged on the noise doing an amazing a cappella accompaniment of noises and singing, sometimes body swaying and gestures and then a story was performed by a group of traditional dancers which ended in a mound of coconut husks being lit and then a man riding through it on a horse prop and stepping and kicking on the fire. Then the burning coals are swept up and he rides through it again, scattering them across the floor and this is repeated until they are all gone. Hard to photograph in the darkness but here is. A Clip from a Kacek dance on Youtube
It reminded me a lot of Polynesian culture - I forget how close this place is to the South Pacific in the grand scheme of things.

Monkey See, Monkey Bite

Okay, gotta get this out of the way. It seems unthinkable and improbable, however apparently not that uncommon. Went to the Monkey Forest today to see the cute and interesting monkeys that live there and that are completely unintimidated by humans and are in fact quite aggressive and after an hour of walking around and taking their pictures and watching them jump on other people, a pack of youthful monkeys jumped on me and one bit my hand, just a single tooth mark but drawing blood. I was sent immediately to the Monkey Forest First Aid clinic (obviously this happens on a somewhat regular basis) where they cleaned it and put iodine on it and told me that the monkeys did not have rabies and showed me a certificate proving so. 
So yeah, I am freaked out, especially after reading some bad stories online, but trying not to worry - it is really small and very clean - and I do have a scratch on my face from the one who jumped on my head - and now when I look at the pictures I took they seem like kind of wild and crazy creatures and make me a little sick to my stomach. 
(Okay - addendum here - Next day, I walked to a private clinic this morning and the doctor there convinced me to get rabies shots. One in each arm, small shots that didn't hurt, but I have to get another next weekend when I return to Bali from Lombok and then 2 weeks later before I leave Thailand. What a pain in the butt. I am more annoyed than worried. Although I didn't expect it hurt more today than yesterday and it does.)


Of course drinking warm white wine can make you a little sick to your stomach also, but since I have no refrigerator, I am getting used to it, kind of like drink warm Red Stripe in Jamaica back in the day. 
I did actually have a Bintang beer with dinner, first beer I've drunk in years, but it was such a hot hot day. I thought I wanted it to be sunny here, but rainy is actually preferable since it cools things down considerably. Most of the clothes I have brought are inappropriate for this heat, clearly I have forgotten what true tropical weather feels like.The skimpiest rayon shirt or dress is really all that is appropriate. Tomorrow I move down the street to a place that has a pool and maybe even air-conditioning and  I am looking forward to that if this keeps up.
Sounds of Ubud - none of my photos can convey the variety of noises that come with this package. Right now I realize I am hearing the bass line of the reggae bar that is probably a good half mile away, (clearly the influence of a long influx of Western hippies) - it is one of the four bars they tell  me are in this town and that all of them close by 11 or 12 at night. Most of the time there is Balinese gamelin music, a sort of toneless and exotic music. But mostly there are animal and bird sounds, strange chatterings and clickings and cheepings that go constantly all day and night, the sounds of the jungle in the backyard. Amazingly I can only occasionally hear the roar of the constant stream of motorcycles that fill the streets.
 I also hear everything that goes on on either side of these woven bamboo walls. The really young British girl on my right calls her parents on her cell phone maybe twice a day and sometimes cries about her cramps and ongoing diarrhea. I know everything about the plan for the rest of her trip, what she ate for dinner, etc., and I don't even know her name. Mostly people are respectful and quiet but an enthusiastic group of youthful American girls showed up today and make me realize how old I am. 
Late in the day  I go to Kafe, which is a cozy and relaxed restaurant frequented by single travelers with a strangely diverse fusion menu which I have noticed many places, serving everything from Indian vegan lentils to several Mexican dishes. I am not sure I have had much truly Indonesian food, although the strong black Java tea is among the best I have ever had and has enough of a jolt that coffee may become nonessential. There are these comfy, opium den cushioned platforms where you can throw yourself down and chill for however long you want and no one even insists you order or leave when you are done and it is easy to strike up conversations with other patrons. 
There is a huge phenomenon of what I call the "serious women" who come alone, sometimes with their yoga mats, always with their journals and write and almost never smile; obviously this life quest stuff is not  to be taken lightly. It makes my inner Oscar Wilde feel entirely renegade ("life is too short to be taken seriously") and easily sociable with the backpacking men who come equipped with their Kindles and ipads and Macbooks.
My skin is sticky and clammy and I wish I had the youthful energy to go over to the reggae bar, but I don't. There are plenty of older travelers here, but I do still feel over the backpacking  hill much of the time.


Thursday, February 21, 2013

This Ubud's for U

February 20th & 21st - Ubud, Bali, Indonesia

So what's up with Ubud? Can't quite figure out the vibe of this place. For starters there are more single foreign women here than even in San Miguel de Allende. It must be all the yoga retreats and other spiritual , which I have not walked head -on into yet. There are more amazing organic restaurants than I have ever encountered anywhere with extreme fusion food; it is hard to tell what is actually real Indonesian food if you don't already know. Tempeh - I know tempeh is Indonesian. But many places serves choices from Mexican to Indian to American health food. We'll see what Jati Homestay serves for breakfast.

From WikiTravel: (This is a good explanation of what I am seeing in Ubud).
The EPL Phenomenon
Blame Elizabeth Gilbert. Those of you who managed to make it through the turgid best-selling novel Eat, Pray, Love, might have an inkling of what is coming up. Ubud features quite heavily in our heroine's search for fulfilment, and the knock-on effect in the town has been huge. Acolytes have swarmed to Ubud looking for (and sometimes finding) places and people referenced in the book. The actual characters mentioned are surely sick and tired of rather desperate looking thirty-something single women turning up on their doorsteps. The economic benefits of the novel to the area ratcheted up a whole other notch in mid-2009, when the eponymously named movie was shot in and around Ubud, Julia Roberts and all. Just be aware though that Ubud cannotnecessarily guarantee a remedy for every mid-life crisis





It has been raining most of the time since I got here - it stopped last night for a few hours and I was able to wander the streets a bit. 








There are temples and offerings everywhere - the offerings show up in doorways and along paths and streets, on shelves and tables. In fact there is one right in front of my doorway, no one else's. I have to step over it to go inside - I don't dare move it. I don't know if this means I have good juju or if I need the bad spirits chased away. Every place you go, women are constantly putting together these offerings, making little bowls of palms leaves filled with colorful flower blossoms and smoking incense.  


Amazing amazing birds here - from my second floor veranda overlooking the rice paddy I am even with the trees and have a "bird's eye view" of dozens of colorful species. 


So Jati Homestay - you walk in off the most busy bustling street, where your life is at stake everytime you cross it, and go down a long paved pathway between two properties and into a compound of family houses were several generations live and work,  descend some stone steps and there, along a waterway, amid gardens and a jungle of greenery is the two-story guesthouse with woven wicker walls and bamboo furniture and elegant Balinese woodworking. So quiet, so lovely and restful - one can usually hear strains of Balinese music always across the rice paddy - gamelins? drums? - but it is a miracle in the midst of the noisy, trafficky city - there is no urban noise at all. It so wonderful to duck out of the overstimulating street and rest the senses. And, it is, of course, perfect for sleeping. Apparently no one can make noise after 10:30 in Ubud. I may blow off Sanur and just come back here after Lombok. Then I could leave some of my stuff as well.

This morning I went to the market and bought a few incredibly cheap things and bargained my brains out after reading somewhere that they absolutely expected you to do so. It feels ruthless but so right - when they said 100, I said 50 and learned the art of walking away to get the price I wanted. Every time I bought something, the vendor would take the money I gave them and touch things all around the stall with it, "for good luck" because I was the first sale of the morning (it was not early) and in fact several times I was told I was getting "good luck morning price." 

There is so much I don't understand about this Balinese culture. Everything is so ancient - the buildings look old because they have been standing for 400 years. Dewa, one of the family members, who picked me up at the airport, talked to me at length on the way here, explaining the various Hindu gods and the 4 kinds of temples - family, functional, Brahmin (I think) and some other kind and how everyone in Ubud does art for relaxation and that at least 10 generations of his family have lived in this compound and worshiped at their family temple, which is private and guests cannot enter. 
Many restaurants here have these wonderful opium-den style cushioned seats, where you can stretch out on cushions next to a low table and settle in for endless hours. No one will ever give you your bill unless you ask for it. I have literally seen people take naps in these comfy alcoves.













The end of this very wet tropical day was at Balinese dance performance. Accompanied by a gamelin orchestra, the performance style was totally unique - not dance as we know it, but storytelling in elaborate costumes, with expressive hand gestures, facial expressions and body postures. In the last piece, there was even interaction with the audience - the monkey came over to me and made me kiss him and then accept the offering of one of the pantomimed fleas that he had groomed off of himself. Alternating between endless and incomprehensible and fascinating and dazzling, it was all excellent entertainment.



Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Planes, Planes and More Planes


February 18th – or is it February 19th???  
Somewhere over the Pacific between Los Angeles and Tokyo, Japan...

The sun never sets and the flight never ends. Every time someone on the south side of the plane opens a window shade, everyone on the plane cringes and shields their eyes, like vampires caught in the light of dawn. By the time on my watch the sun would have set by now, but halfway through this flight there is still another 5 hours and 40 minutes to go and I know now that the sun will actually never set on this trip across the endless Pacific and that it feels like more of a curse than a blessing.
When I flew across the US it was just the opposite; if you fly west at dusk the night goes on forever, the darkness extending for hours beyond the length of time it should actually last, like midwinter in northern Scandinavia or midsummer in Antarctica. So really it is all a matter of being in the right place at the right time, or more like leaving the right place at the right time. Fucking profound, isn’t it.
So far - 7 hours, 2 movies,2 crosswords, 2 Kindle chapters, 1 meal, 2 snacks, 2 trips to the bathroom and one mondo glass of wine. But who’s counting. I seem constantly saddled by with seat mates who have no need to pee. Or stand or stretch or move. On the way from Boston to L.A., one of them spent 5 hours working nonstop on a powerpoint presentation about dengue fever in the Solomon Islands. I stood for a while on this plane looking over the cabin which was completely dark at what was really 4 in the afternoon in relation to when we got on. Most people were asleep, the rest were glued to their TV screens, no one seemed to be doing anything interactive or productive, and almost no one stood up. The majority of passengers are Japanese, many of whom are wearing protective face masks, but all of whom seem fine to sit quietly and well-behaved for hours on end, making the restless blonde woman with the bad tailbone stand out even more.
Here in my protective cocoon at seat 46A I am cushioned on all sides by inflatables – behind my back, under my feet against the window wall. Even under my seat, in the event of a water landing (pull the tabs or inflate by mouth through the red tubes). If not for the ongoing ache in my lowest vertebrae I would be fairly comfortable.
And what about that day of my life I have lost in crossing the international date line? What parallel universe did that chunk of time fall into? And will I ever get it back?
Flying over the Aleutian Islands now, hurling through the atmosphere at 565 miles per hour and 32,000 feet. I think I will lift my window shade half an inch and let a shaft of blinding sunlight pierce the hearts of my vampire travelling companions.

February 20th - Changi Airport, Singapore
How can it be another day already - I still haven't gotten to my destination yet! 
The Singapore airport is all about passengers in transit - it is an elegant Disney-esque experience, sometimes with a highly refined sense of design - look at this ladies room I happened to wander into:



And of course the Snooze Lounge where anybody can sleep for free as long as they can find a open chair. 

All very modern and very accommodating. 

There are dozens of computers everywhere for people to just get online with and use. There is even a butterfly garden and a pool on the roof.

Switched from Delta to Garuda Airlines here for the final leg to Indonesia, and even though there is no share agreement between the two, they told me not to go through immigration, just leave my checked bag at the luggage carousel and in the morning Garuda would pick it up and make sure it got to Bali with me. When I asked if they were sure this would work, I was told this was standard proceedure in Singapore.

So...12 hours to Tokyo, 8 hours to Singapore, 6 hours in the airport, 2 & 1/2 more to Bali and then another hour or more  in a car to Jati Homestay in Ubud...

Saturday, February 16, 2013


Happy Chinese New Year from Los Angeles!

A sunny spotlight in Union Station
Having a great time in the city of angels with my daughter Genevieve and my old Franconia College friend, Mary Farina. Lots of rain and cool weather has transformed LA into a place of greenery and awesome beauty, at least in the eyes of a girl from the snowy mountains of New Hampshire.

This blogging thing is new to me, so bear with me!

Yesterday we did downtown LA, visiting Union Station


and the Mexican markets on Olvera Street,








 


and then went out to see the Pacific Design Center where Genevieve is interning and





ended by catching the sunset over the city at the Griffith Observatory.



Today we reveled in the Chinese New Year parade through Chinatown, just across the 101 from Mary's house and enjoyed dinner at Katsuya, a Japanese restaurant in the Americana mall in Glendale - the ultimate SoCal experience.

 Tomorrow we head out to Venice Beach...and the next day, I am on to Asia.