At 11:30 Monte came by, and we walked to his home, less than 5 minutes from the hotel. He has accumulated a retinue of “boys,” young men, some with families, who rely on him for a great deal of their income. So he has a cook and a couple of odd job folk. And then there are the friends and relatives who generally show up at meal times expecting to be fed. His workers are mostly from the nearby island of Lombok and are Muslims, like most of Indonesia but unlike the Balinese who practice their own style of Hinduism. The Muslims from other parts of Indonesia serve as the “foreign” workers for a lot of the low-level jobs in Bali and are often treated as such.
After lunch Helen went off, via motorcycle, to a massage appointment scheduled before she left the U.S.
After her driver returned, Monte and I went off on a tour of the beach towns along the southern coast – via motorcycles, driven by the boys. It’s the best way to get around; it’s too far to walk, and cars would be stuck in traffic for hours. But I was terrified! I am not into speed or danger (understatement). We didn’t go all that fast, although at times it seemed exceedingly quick, but the roads are bumpy and overcrowded with a lot of weaving in and out of traffic. I tried to relax, trusting the driver, and taking in the sights and succeeded to a degree.
By the time I got off at the hotel, however, my butt had gone to sleep and I walked bow-legged, like I’d been riding a horse!
We travelled through the beach towns of Kuta, Legian, and Seminyak, along the southwest coast, the closest beach area to the airport at Denpasar. Kuta is the tackiest, a typical tourist beach town with shop after shop selling the same cheap t-shirts, etc. The areas and shops get increasingly upscale as one heads northward although they are still appealing to tourists coming for a beach holiday. Bali is booming because the Australian economy is good, and that is the primary source of both capital and tourists.
We stopped partway through the trip(my butt and legs taking a grateful rest) at the memorial to those who were killed in the Bali bombings of 2002.
Monte said that the rest of Indonesia finds the memorial a bit of a joke because the names of the foreigners and the Balinese killed are listed, but no one bothered to find out who the Indonesian low-level workers were who died. They just never returned to their home islands.
Returned to the hotel about 3:30, napped for an hour, and then met Helen and Monte for a sunset walk on the beach. Unfortunately, because it is still the rainy season, there were clouds and no sunset. Still it was pleasant walking; the humidity was lower, and there was a nice breeze. Lots of people out enjoying the beach including several vigorous games of beach soccer played by young men who Monte said worked all day at hard, construction, jobs and then ran around playing soccer for several hours after work. While they are probably in their twenties, they look like teenagers.
The beach had a lot of garbage on it that seemed to have come in with the tide. The Balinese blame the trash on Java, the large island just to the west. However, Monte says that it is garbage disposed of by the Balinese who throw their trash into gullies around the country. When the rainy season comes, it is all washed down the gullies and makes its way into the sea, only to be returned with the incoming tide. This is another example of the Balinese seeing themselves as not a part of Indonesia.
The beach at dusk -- still active
When it seemed that it might rain, we left the beach to find a restaurant for dinner. When the rains came, we stopped for a drink and then continued walking to the restaurant when the shower stopped. A good dinner of a small (right-sized) steak.
Took a taxi home and got to bed at 10:30. I was so tired that I couldn't even finish the last 8 pages of a book I was reading.
Looks great, you look good on motor cycle!
ReplyDelete