Boy in the Village

To view all Lombok Photography - click here!

To view all snapshots from Lombok - click here!

Happy New Year! My travels continue in 2007! Every year for the Christmas Holiday my sister and her family go somewhere in Southeast Asia for a week, lay on the beach and relax before the kids have to go back to school. I decided that I would go with them and continue my travel adventures with them for a week. After all – I’ve traveled alone, traveled with friends, so why not try traveling with a family! This year they chose Lombok, Indonesia – an island east of Bali. We stayed at a swank family villa near Senggigi with our own infinity pool, open air dining room, and complete with a ‘butler’. I must admit – I was a bit confused at first what we were supposed to do with a butler – but I quickly got used to it when he asked me if he could bring me a drink…I love the Indonesian exchange rate! I quickly came to realize that Lombok is very similar to Bali in economics, and landscape, however it is a little gem of an island that hasn’t really been discovered by tourism yet. In fact- this was probably as non-touristy/remote as I’ve been in my travels to date. There is only a small part of the island that is really geared towards tourists with hotels, shopping, tours, and restaurants – and the choices were miniscule compared to Bali. The rest of the island is just typical village life – with virtually no contact with tourists or western visitors. In addition, the people here were mainly Muslim as opposed to Bali where the majority was Hindu. I thought it was strange that two islands that are so so close together, so similar in size, can be so different religiously. This meant that I was back to getting woken up at 5AM by the call to prayers at the mosque. However the loud, large geckos (I mean large…like the size of your ARM!) on the roof weren’t too quiet either.

When we arrived at our house the girls went for a swim and then we had dinner. Our nighttime butler, Adi, took care of our every need. At dinner Lindsey surprisingly announced, “This is the best day of my life!” I was a little stunned as there aren’t too many moments in your life where you can be a part of someone’s ‘best day’ – I guess I felt pretty honored. I asked “Why?” She said, “Because I’m with my family and we have our own pool.” You have to love the life and mind of a 7 year old!

Photo: Woman selling banans at the market
The next day we decided that we would hire a chef for the day since we had this great big house and our own kitchen – and it was dirt-cheap. The chef came but didn’t speak any English so our daytime butler, Vicky, had to translate for us. Cyndi and I tried to pick out a traditional Indonesian meal. In addition to the chef cooking for us, we were also able to accompany him to the market to get all of the necessary items, and then watch him prepare it. All 6 of us plus Vicky and the chef got in a little Bemo (open air taxi/truck of sorts) and went into town to experience the big wet market.

Wet markets are open air markets that sell meat, poultry, and produce. They warned us before we got to the market that it would be muddy as there was a great deal of rain the other night and the market was outdoor…ok – no problem, a little mud wont hurt anyone…however the smell and the various goods for sale…well – that’s another story. We went to the market at about noon…this was considered really late for the locals, in fact many of the little shops and the fish market had already sold out or closed shop. For the locals, their days start by a trip to the market at 4AM. Then they typically take their purchases back to their village on some other part of the island and sell it at their village. Wholesaling was alive and well in Lombok.

I always love trips to markets…they never cease to amaze me. It’s so different than going to Fairway on the Upper West Side (which certainly has it’s own challenges). First off – you can’t have a weak stomach, and you can’t really be a vegetarian (you can – but you will be pretty unhappy). You have to be ok with seeing every type of animal part imaginable…with flies all over it. And the smell…all I can say is that you eventually get used to it – but it’s certainly not appetizing. You have to get out of your world of sterile health standards.
Finally, you always have to be prepared to see something that you never expected existed before – something that baffles your westernized eye. On this trip – it was colored chicks. They were selling little baby chicks – however the chicks were painted in bright colors. Pink, green, yellow, blue – they looked like someone tried to dye the Easter egg, but it leaked through and dyed the chick instead. It was a rainbow of tons of little chicks for sale on a bike cart. From what I could figure out, people bought the chicken to raise at their village. They would pick out a color so that they could tell them apart from one another. The Smiths had the blue chicks, the Johnsons had the pink chicks, the Andersons had the green chicks…you get my drift. Kind of like branding a cow I suppose. As the chicks grow into chickens – there still remains some of the bright color on the feathers, therefore you can also tell them apart as adults. At least this is the best explanation I could come up with….maybe they just thought the colors were pretty…who knows.

I think many of the people working in the market were as fascinated by us with our light colored skin, as much as I was fascinated by the colored chicks with their brightly colored feathers. We were quite entertaining for the locals. My nieces were troopers – they did a great job as they were surrounded by animal parts teaming with flies, with that foul odor of a butcher in warm weather, and the thick mud that we had to walk through. When I was 7 to 13 years old – I would have run out of that market screaming in tears!

Photo: Woman carrying rocks
The next day the ocean was too rough to go snorkeling so we hired a driver and guide to take us to see the waterfalls near the volcano on the island. Our guide’s name was Bahram, he lived in the village near our villa. We were driving for about an hour when we went through a small village and the road was closed down to one lane. There were hundreds of people all over the street and there was a man stopping traffic and taking donations. As our driver threw some spare change in a bucket, Bahram said that the village was building a new Mosque and taking donations. We drove by change collector and saw how the whole village came together to construct this mosque. It was like a barn raising in Amish country. Everyone was involved, men, women, kids, young, old. We immediately asked if we could stop and take pictures. Frank and I got out of the car armed with our cameras.
Yet I mostly stood there in awe of their ‘old fashioned’ production line. Women were carrying big buckets of rocks on their head to a group of young boys that were mixing them with water. On the other side of the street they were mixing the rocks with some cement like substance. They would dip a pail into the cement/rock like substance and one by one pass the bucket up the ladders to the people at the top to be poured into the frames made of bamboo. It reminded me of ants on an anthill just working away in a massive ant trail…it was amazing. Of course we stood out again like a white chick amongst neon colored chicks. Everyone stopped and either waved at us or simply looked at us like we had just dropped out of the sky with our white skin and strange cameras.

Our next stop was to feed the monkeys. Of course my nieces were excited about this – however I was less then thrilled to come face to face with a monkey again after my monkey assault in Bali a month ago! Bahram assured me that these were nice monkeys (I doubt there really is such a thing), he said that they would not jump on me or steal things like glasses or earrings. I was persuaded to come out of the car …if my 13-year-old niece can do it – so can I. After the monkey feeding we moved on to a stop in the rice fields to watch them harvest the rice. The women were busy gathering bunches of rice and tying them up. They would give them to the young men who would then proceed with pounding them against a wooden slab that was positioned over a large tarp.
The pounding action of the rice bundles would make the rice fall out of their grass encasements and fall onto the tarp. Once they were done harvesting, the rice on the tarp would be gathered up and taken to various homes to dry in the sun. When we stopped at rice field to take pictures, this older woman, about 50 years old, came up to the road and stared at us. Bethany went over to her and said hello. The woman proceeded to stare and touch Bethany’s arm. She would stroke Bethany’s arm because this was one of the few Caucasian people she had ever seen. She wanted to feel if our white skin was any different. I knew at this moment just how remote the island of Lombok was.

Next we arrived at the volcano site where we were to do a small trek to a couple of waterfalls. We had a new young guide named Adi that took us to the waterfalls. The trek to the first waterfall was pretty standard, down a bunch of steps, over a groomed trail, and to the base of the waterfall. We then went on to the second waterfall – which was definitely a more challenging walk. It felt as if we were working our way deep into the jungle, and we followed this elaborate system of waterway canals that would handle the large amounts of water during the rainy season and provide drinking water to the villages. The trail abruptly ended – but no waterfall was in site. Adi then told us to take off our shoes and follow him. We followed him over the rocks of the river snaking across from bank to bank along the shallow parts and all of a sudden it opened up onto a great waterfall! The travel by water was a bit treacherous, but we were able to get through it with only one scraped knee and a few tears. Adi told us that he would take us back on a different trail through more water if we were up for it. We were all in agreement, however when we got to the new trail – we realized that it wasn’t really a trail at all – but it was a tunnel with the water flowing through it. He assured us that it would only come up to our knees and that it was safe to walk through. I was a bit skeptical – but I figured that it must be a short cave - and you only live once. We entered the tunnel and Adi told us to keep our hands up on the ceiling to feel for protruding rocks so that we (the adults) didn’t hit our head. We entered the tunnel and quickly realized that it was pitch dark. I couldn’t see Cyndi who was only 2 feet in front of me – you just had to feel around on the tunnel walls to figure out where to go. Finally we saw some light – I thought that signaled the end of the tunnel – however I realized that it was only a little opening in the tunnel to let light in, but the tunnel continued to go on and on and on! At one point I was taking pictures of the pitch darkness with my flash on and when the flash would go off we realized that it ‘woke up’ the sleeping bats and they started to fly around us. I was petrified! I honestly didn’t want to know what else was in the tunnel with us…spiders, bats, and lord knows what was in the water flowing around my knees! The girls were troopers once again – yet I decided not to publicize the bat epiphany…what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. After 10 minutes of feeling our way through the dark tunnel and lots of laughter and screaming – we made it to the opening on the other side! We all agreed that we were happy to be out of the tunnel – however it was by far the highlight of our trek! This is what I love about travel – you have no idea where it will lead you – you just have to roll with it and laugh a lot along the way!

On our way home I talked to Bahram and peppered him with questions about his family and life on Lombok. He lived in a village not far from our villa with his whole family living around him. He was married at the age of 15 and now had 2 little girls. My favorite fact is that he learned English on the beach…no formal training…I was impressed. He seemed to dabble in everything - snorkeling tours, fishing, surfing, trekking, and livestock! This leads me to the title of this post…cows…well - specifically cowbells.
Photo: Bahram and his cow…and bell!
During this year of travel – I am not able to do much shopping as I really don’t have room to haul beautiful pottery around the world with me…and shipping home each little thing is expensive (plus Miles doesn’t have a large enough apartment to house it all until I get back!). However – since I’m at my sister’s house in Singpaore for a while – I’m able to do some shopping and store it at her place to be shipped home when I leave the Singapore area in April. Finally – I get to take advantage of some of these amazing bargains that I’m bombarded by…saying ‘buy me, buy me’! Ok - back to teh cows…Everyone in Lombok had a cow or two, the cows just roam around the village along with the goats and stray dogs. The cows have these great old cowbells – I was intrigued with the bells and wanted one of my own as apartment décor. I asked Bahram if he had a cow and he said that he had two of them. I then asked if they had a bell…”yes, of course” I asked if I would be able to buy a bell at the market.
He said “Do you have a cow”
…uh…”no – but I have a cat.”
At this point my sister turned around and looked at me like I was crazy - yet we both chuckled about the picture of me having a cow in NYC…grazing in Central Park. I said, “Maybe I could put the bell on the cat. Yet I think it may weigh her down a bit.” I think I lost Bahram. The concept of having a cow bell without a cow is completely foreign to him. The concept of having a cow bell for decoration – well - I’m sure he thinks that I’m crazy. After this humorous interchange he still actually invited us to visit him and his family the next day in his village. Of course I loved this idea and wasn’t going to pass it up a chance to see the every day life in Lombok!

The next morning the girls donated a few of their pens and tablets as gifts for our visit and we headed off to Bahram’s village to see what real life on Lombok was like. When we arrived we were greeted by a number of people. They really rolled out the red carpet for us…well – it was actually a woven mat made of palm leaves – but it felt like we were movie stars! They had us sit down in a little hut and brought us trays of fruit, and fried rice chips and tea.
Photo: Twin boys at the village
It was an outpouring of hospitality that I really didn’t expect. The village was sparse as I had imagined it to be. The homes were made of concrete – but it was basically one room that everyone slept in, ate in, and lived in. They had a well outside of the house where they could get water. There were chickens, pigeons, cows, and goats roaming everywhere. However the main commodity was kids…tons of kids running around - mesmerized by us – this family of white people who have come to visit bearing gel pens, American candy, and paper! This was my chance to get some great photos of the locals and it provided endless entertainment for the kids.
As soon as I would take a picture of them staring intently into the camera, I would show them the image and the whole group of them would erupt in laughter and wonder. We took tons of pictures and then my nieces showed them how to play catch with a beach ball – the kids were full of laughter and smiles – it was quite touching.

The remainder of our time in Lombok was filled with swimming, shopping , beach time, and great food. The girls spent every moment they could in the pool and teaching the various butlers how to do a ‘high five’. We came home from shopping one day and the butler, Ade, met us at the door and gave my sister and I a ‘high five’ to welcome us…I think this meant that it was about time for us to leave this island. Our work here was done - we had successfully corrupted the butlers. However – by the end of the week I decided that I knew the real reason the butlers were assigned to the villa…to catch bugs for sissy little foreigners like us! We were in the middle of tropical jungle…bugs everywhere. Big ones, gross ones, flying ones, hairy ones…thank god for the butlers. Now I just have to figure out how take one of the butlers along with me to Thailand and Vietnam to kill the bugs! Overall – traveling with family was very fun…and a bit more ‘luxury’ than backpacking by myself! However my favorite times were seeing my nieces embrace travel and the unusual world around us. The times in the market, in the village, in the tunnel – the times that were unexpected, and very real. They will grow up into great world travelers!

Photos: My nieces…Megan, Lindsey, Bethany

To see Sherry’s Bali Photography - click here!

For all snapshots of Bali - click here!

Photo: Sunset over Seminyak
Ahhh - Bali - peace, quiet, simplicity, cultural, relaxation, great food - and the home of the $8 massage….perfect. Bali was going to offer me some new culture again which I was really excited to see. It was also going to offer me some time with my favorite Belgian - no, not a waffle - my girlfriend Veronique! Veronique and I met a few years back through a mutual friend (Angie) while traveling through France (that was a mouthful) and we have remained travel buddies ever since! It’s always great to have a well traveled Belgian who can speak multiple languages to travel with! She’s the only one crazy enough to fly for 20 hrs for a week vacation. Veronique currently lives in Geneva (a stop in my future Europe travels) - so I guess she’s a Swiss Belgian now - but any way you put it - she’s wonderful. We planned all of our Bali activities off the cuff - which made the process even more fun. We agreed to meet in the town of Ubud (the spiritual center of Bali) and figure out the rest from there, we were able to travel around the island from Ubud and then for the remainder of the week we headed to the beach in Seminyak. We had a wonderful time in Bali - and it left us both hungry for more - a good sign that you will visit that country again one day. There are so many things to share about this country and our experiences - every day we would come up with some new ideas around travel slogans for Bali that described our experiences. I’ve used some of them to group together some of our key experiences for the week - enjoy!

Bali - Who wants to be a millionaire?!
When I arrived in Bali I found an ATM in the airport - I did the standard withdrawal choice and my choices were to withdraw $100,000, $500,000 and $1,000,000! I did a double take and looked around for the conversion rates posted somewhere. The conversion rate was 8900 Rupiah to $1 USD. I quickly did the math in my head and decided to withdraw $1,000,000 Rupiah…I was a millionaire!!! I took my wade of 50,000 dollar bills and took a car to our hotel in Ubud - the Oka Wati Hotel - I felt like Donald Trump…yet my car was a beat up old Toyota with a seat belt that didn’t work and was in desparate need of an alignment. I was staying in the Oka Wati hotel in Ubud - it wasn’t Trump Plaza…but it was this adorable little place with an amazing garden, overlooking a rice paddy and a little pool, and some of the most charming employees that I’ve met so far in my travels.

As I awaited Veronique’s arrival the next day - I walked around Ubud and decided to treat myself to a spa treatment there. I had to see if these spa prices were for real. The brochures described 2 hours of various spa treatments for $15…how could I pass this up? For $15 I received one of the most relaxing, spa experiences of my life - massage, exfoliation, yogurt bath, and a big aromatherapy bath filled with fresh flowers. During the massage when I was supposed to be relaxing I kept on doing the math again in my head wondering if I had divided wrong and if this was really costing me $150 instead of $15 - after all - I’m not an expert at currency conversion yet and Bali was the land of multiple zeros. I paid my $115,000 for my 2 hours of bliss and marveled at the fact that for $115,000 in Australia - I could have only gotten one martini. I loved Bali immediately. Throughout the week we bought car service for $350,000, haggled over water prices for $2000, and enjoyed wine for $10,000 a glass. The only hazard to vacationing in the land of millionaires was that we kept on mixing up our bills. Have you ever quickly tried to tell the difference between $10,000 and $100,000 - it’s not easy! A few thousand dollars of wine and soon the zeros all start blending together! Everything about Bali was a bargain…I continued to have more spa appointments during the week for next to nothing. For a mere $850,000 I had 3 one hour long massages, 1 exfoliation/bath treatment, a facial, mani/pedi, and a head massage. I’m sure you have all thought that you could never get tired of massages…however - I have to say…I was on massage overload after a week of pampering!

Bali - Become one with the Ditties!
Bali was simple…it was about family, faith, and tourism. Our lovely hotel in Ubud was not a typical 100 room hotel, this was a 20 room lodge, with no frills but it was oozing with Bali art and culture. The Oka Wati room came with breakfast served on your little personal veranda each morning which included fruit, yogurt, eggs, and the thickest, best coffee I’ve had so far in my travels. The smell of Gusti bringing it to my veranda in the morning woke me up! Gusti was one of the guys who worked at the hotel and the favorite part of my day was to see him bringing me coffee every morning. He was the happiest person in the morning and would show up on my veranda with a big smile and a pot of thick sludge they called Balinese coffee. He would wish me a good morning and ask what I wanted for breakfast, then a few minutes later he would come back with the best breakfast I had ever tasted, full of spices and garlic and freshness. He made these amazing pancakes that were green from some leaf that Gusti brought from his compound. He showed us how he crushed it and added water to get the flavor and color that was added to the pancakes. He would sit on the veranda and I would pepper him with questions about Bali, the culture, Hinduism, traditions, marriage, family, food, and dance. It was my favorite part of my day - just sitting and talking to him in such a relaxing environment. The Oka Wati had a little marketing brochure that Veronique and I picked up one day. The front read “Welcome to Bali. The magical island paradise blessed with superb natural beauty and a dynamic culture dedicated to the ditties” We both scratched our heads in confusion as to what this word ditties meant. It was like a game to try to make sense of it. Eventually we realized that they were trying to translate the word deities - which somehow turned into ditties…priceless. The rest of our trip we were in constant search of the ditties.

Come visit Bali - Enter at your own Risk!
Ubud has a variety of traditional Balinese dances going on every night at various palaces and temples in the village. The costumes are ornate, the music is delicate and the stories are as complicated and confusing as opera.

I gave up on trying to understand the story of who was who, who wronged who, and who was good and who was evil - and simply watched the dancing. The Balinese dance with their hands, fingers, toes, and eyes…all choreographed together to form this beautiful show. We went to a number of dance performances - The Legong and Barong (classic dance of good and evil) performance was mesmerizing. The hand movements were so intricate and well choreographed. The costumes were ornate and the dedication was unbelievable. These talented performers were performing in order to raise money for their various temples - not for fame or fortune. We also went to the Kecak Fire and Trance Dance. It consisted of about 50 men all chanting this tune with no accompaniment while the story of the dancers played out in front of us. At the end they lit a big pile of coconut husks on fire and let them burn high like a bon fire.

They burned out and a couple of men with big brooms came out and started to sweep at the hot coals…I personally was ready for them to pass out marshmallows. Another man came out decorated in a horse outfit and proceeded to walk/run/skip through the coals. The story goes that the man is put in a trance by the 50 men choir of chanting. He then can walk through burning coals. It was quite a site to see - I thought he would just do it once and be done. But he actually continued to walk through the coals for about 10 minutes. At times he kicked the burning coals into the audience ( I guess he had no sense of direction while in a trance!) and you would hear the screams of the audience members as hot coals landed on them. The little men with the brooms would quickly try to come over and sweep it away and back into the pile. Veronique is a lawyer - and commented that in Bali they must have no fear of lawsuit! Maybe this is why the ticket only cost $5 - it should have read enter at your own risk! The fire walker/kicker actually got tripped up once in his own horse outfit and fell down in the coals…the audience now switched from screams of terror of hot coals flying at them to a concerned hush. However, no firemen had to hose him off - he seemed to be fine and continued on his coal walk of terror…that was some trance!

Bali - it’s like Easter every day!
In the Balinese religion it is customary for women to make daily spiritual offerings in front of every entrance (I believe it somehow wards off evil spirits - I could have used this in front of my office door in NY!). The spiritual offering normally consisted of some type of flowers, incense and holy water. These three items form the trinity and represent the 3 manifestations of their supreme God. I’m not really sure why this was a woman’s job…but suffice it to say - the Balinese women seemed to spend most of their days dropping off offerings.

Photo: Offering of Chocolate Cake
Every morning we would wake up and go out on our veranda and there would be a new little offering made out of palm leaves containing rice, incense, and some flowers in front of our door. It was like the Easter Bunny left a little basket for us - yet there were no jelly beans. The little offerings/blessings were left everywhere on the sidewalks in front of stores and homes. It was impossible to not step on them! Plus - I think they fed the local stray dog population! They would leave anything in the little leaf offering baskets. My favorite offerings were the ones that contained loads of fruit and I saw one that even had a large piece of chocolate cake with sprinkles! The really great thing is that we were in Bali during one of their biggest ceremonies - Galungan. Galungan was on November 29th and on this day the Balinese Hindu people make large offerings and bring them to the temple in the morning. They also decorate their house-gate with a penjor as a symbol of victory against the evil spirits. A Penjor is also a symbol of thankfulness for the grace of God. The men are in charge of making the Penjor which is a tall bamboo tree of sorts (think of it like a Christmas Tree that everyone puts up and decorates in their house in December - the men cut it down and the women decorate it).

The Penjor starts with a long 30 ft. bamboo stick that the men transport on their mopeds…quite a site to see a man on a moped carrying a 30 foot pole speeding down the street and trying to turn corners. Once the men decorate the base of the Penjor, the women are in charge of adding the intricate design details and the alter of offerings. I kept wondering if putting up the Penjor was as stress filled as my family putting up the Christmas tree when I was a kid. Did the Balinese families get into huge family arguments about putting up the Penjor just perfectly - was it straight, did all of the lights work? We were lucky to be there during this special holiday - we simply walked around Ubud and watched the hundreds of mopeds pass by with a families on it. They were dressed in their formal ceremony garments and the women were toting a large baskets filled with various offerings (probably lots of chocolate cake with sprinkles!). Little groups of young boys would walk around the village conducting a Barong Ngelawang. This was a dance and song to ward off the evil spirits and get more customers in the future! This was a wonderful holiday demonstrating how important Balinese religion, and family are - they are the cornerstones of their culture.

Bali - where everyone knows your name!
I met at least 5 Wayans, and 4 Made’s in Bali. This seemed a bit odd to me at first - and then I learned that kids are named for their birth order - they aren’t really given a unique name like we in the US are used to. The birth order and names go in order of oldest to youngest:
Wayan (pronounced Why-an), Made (pronounced Mad-dee), Nyoman (pronounced Neoman), and Ketut.
If a family has more than 4 children - then they start over and the 5 child is called Wayan 2. At first I was a bit disturbed by this as it seemed like it removed any individuality from a name - but after a bit - I got used to it. As a benefit - it was super easy to remember everyones name!

Bali - Relax at our Beaches and Temples and Get That Monkey off Your Back
I lived in NYC for 3 1/2 years and never once felt concerned for my safety or concerned about violence or theft. Ok - there was the first time I ran in Central Park when it got dark out…I was a little concerned then - but that was the first week I was living there and I still had a vision that NY was a dangerous place. There was also the time when someone was smoking crack on the subway next to me…but I never was threatened by him…we just did our thing - he on his crack pipe and me on my crackberry - and commuted in peace. Back on subject…I was in Bali for 1 week and I was mugged by a monkey. No joke - the monkey stole my earring. Let me back up - Veronique and I had decided to get up really early one day and get a driver to take us to Pura Luhur Ulu Watu - a temple on the southern tip of the island. We had heard that it was great to get there before the crowds and get pictures with the morning sun. We woke up at 5:30 and took off with our driver - Wayan - at 6AM. Sure enough - we got there before any crowds…in fact - it was deserted. Before we got out of the car, Wayan told us to make sure to be careful of the monkeys as they would take sunglasses and bags - basically anything that wasn’t secure. It seemed rather weird - but I took off my sunglasses and put my camera across my body and took off ready to get some great photos.

Photo: Look closely for the monkees on the fence!
When we walked closer to the temple we notice there were tons of monkeys hanging out on the path - it was more than you see in a zoo…there were about 25 of them hanging out. Little did I know that they were casing us. Veronique and I were a little freaked out by the monkeys - they were large and we weren’t too thrilled that they outnumbered us. We tried to mind our own business and take pictures wandering around the temple. However there was a path that we wanted to go on to get some pictures from a distance. We looked at the path and it was guarded by the monkeys…so we had to stop and re-group a bit. Veronique took off her glasses and put them in her pocket and we took off through the monkey gang. We were a bit freaked out about it - but I sent her first as she couldn’t see anyway without her glasses! We had just about got through the gaggle of monkeys and I relaxed a bit and turned around to look at them and all of a sudden I felt something on my back. At first I though it was Veronique tapping me on the shoulder - but then I quickly realized that a large monkey the size of a medium sized dog had just jumped on my back!! It jumped off as fast as it had jumped on - but it completely freaked me out! I yelled at Veronique and told her that I had just been jumped by a monkey. She of course didn’t see a thing - but couldn’t believe it. We quickly moved out of the monkey gang and I did a little inventory of what I had with me…camera - check, camera case - check, swing pack - check. Yet I still felt like something was missing - sure enough - I did an inventory of my jewelry and discovered that one of my silver earrings was gone…ripped right from my ear. I guess it looked like a shiny, tinfoil wrapped chocolate or something. I took off the remaining earring and left it on a rock - I admitted defeat. After all - the monkeys should be accessorized well.

Bali - Where Safety is First!
Veronique and I stayed at a lovely beach resort for next to nothing in Seminyak for the remainder of our week. After haggling with the staff to get the ‘best price’ - we decided to stay in the hotel cottages as no one could really tell us the difference between the hotel rooms and the hotel cottages except that the cottages were cheaper and across the street from the main hotel. Little did we know that the cottages came with our own personal crossing guard. Since we had to cross the road to get there (this was a very small, very docile road), they had a little security guard there at the cross walk 24/7. We would come out of our cottage room and the little guard would perk up and come out of his hut, blow his whistle, and use his electronic crossing wand (that flashed green or red) and would help us across the crosswalk. Seriously…there was little to no traffic - but damn did we feel safe! Even though the Balinese were extremely safe when it came to crossing the street, they were the other extreme when it came to personal transportation. I bet you never would have guessed that a family of 4 could all fit on a moped/motorcycle…well - they can.

It normally went something like this, Dad drove with a child in front of him hanging on to the handles, the Mom was on the back holding on to the Dad around the waist and the youngest child was sandwiched between the Mom and Dad like a sardine. Normally at least 3 of them would have helmets…the smallest child was too small for a helmet. I was taken back to the times when my family (of five) would go on family trips in our little Honda Civic hatchback car. We would pack in garbage bags because they were more ‘mold-able’ and could we could fit more in the hatchback that way. It was always fun carrying our paper bag/suitcase into hotels…very classy. However - as much as my sister, brother, and I hated sharing a very small space in the back seat…it now seemed like paradise compared to the average Balinese family of four all crammed onto a little motorcycle! I honestly have never seen so many motorcycles in my life…not even in Rome. Everyone had a motorcycle and the day after Galungan everyone on the island was on them traveling somewhere…the traffic was crazy! Luckily Made, our driver, was well versed in dodging motorcycles!

Bali - The Land of 20 Questions
I was a bit disarmed when I got to Ubud and everyone I met would immediately ask “Where are you staying?” followed by “Where are you from?” followed by “How long are you in Bali?” followed by “What is your name?” followed by “Where did you go for dinner?”…this personal interrogation would go on endlessly if you would let it.

At first this line of questioning was way too intrusive for me. A stranger coming up and asking me where I’m staying normally sets off my ‘warning signal’. I put on my New Yorker face and gave them the best brush off I could. It felt as if they were robots taking a survey and reporting their findings back to a Balinese Supreme Being…maybe a ditty…who liked chocolate cake, and rode a motorcycle. However I came to learn that this was their way of practicing English. In addition - this line of questioning seemed completely normal to them - this is how they learned about others, and as a side benefit they determined what the popular hotels were too! By day 3 I was freely giving up all of this information to anyone that would ask. I would then start to follow it up with a few questions of my own such as - “Have you ever been to America?” followed by “If you could go anywhere in the world - where would you go?” followed by “What’s your favorite music” followed by “What’s your favorite thing to eat for breakfast” followed by “Who’s your favorite actor?”. This actually spawned into a new idea for my website…interview the locals…which is exactly what I started doing so check out my new Interview posts on the site!

Bali - Come and Live an Ulcer-free Lifestyle!
Veronique and I had a wonderful time exploring this enchanting island. I think we ended the week lighter than we started the week. Between the excessive sweating and the hours of spa exfoliation treatments that we underwent - we must have lost weight! We both basked in the peacefulness of Bali. The people were so patient and kind. Nothing really wound them up. It was true tranquility. In fact - upon interviewing one woman for my new web posts - I asked her if her job was ever stressful. She looked at me with a confused look on her face and said “stressful?”. She didn’t even know what the word meant. I quickly moved on to the next question as I wasn’t going to be the one to burst her bubble and describe what stressful meant! On the last night there, we laid in our big king size bed in our cottage and laughed about how we had spent millions of dollars on our spa treatments and this was the smoothest our skin had ever been…unfortunately I was laying next to my Belgian girlfriend - poor planning on our parts! The men of Bali didn’t know what they were missing! However - they were probably just as happy sitting around their home with their families eating chocolate cake.

Photo: Veronique and I living our luxurious ulcer-free lifestyle…I don’t even remember what stress is…