Bali and Korea -- March 22, 2012

Ferdinando, the same driver who took us to Ubud, picked me up at 9 a.m. for my trip to Amed on the east coast. We had some interesting conversation along the way. Ferdi is from the island of Floris, reared as a Catholic and graduated from a Catholic High School. With that high level of education, there were few opportunities for him on Floris so he went first to Java and then Bali. He is quite the entrepreneur working hard on developing his tourist business. Monte has aided him, both with business and with advice. He struggles with the traditions of his upbringing and the world in which he now lives. He and his “wife” are not legally married because his erstwhile father-in-law requires the traditional in-person contact before agreeing to the marriage, and Ferdi cannot afford the long trip back to Floris. This situation conflicts with his desire as a Catholic to be married in the church. I sensed that his wife does not feel as strongly as he does about the traditional ways, but for the moment he’s in a quandary, complicated by his baby daughter whom he loves dearly. This caused me to do some thinking about the benefits and drawbacks to tradition as an important part of life; it is a mixed bag, and the conflict in Indonesia is particularly fearsome.

We made several stops along the way to see the local sights. I elected not to visit Pura Goa Lawah which is a flying fox (bat) cave temple with the walls of the cave literally vibrating with thousands of bats and several small shrines at the entrance covered with smelly bat droppings. No thanks. . . . There was a brief stop at a beach with black, volcanic, sand. I have never seen the volcanic beaches in Hawaii, but this seemed coarser, rockier, than I’ve been led to believe is the case in Hawaii. But it is black in color.

Also visible from the beach was an array of cell phone towers. It seems that everyone in Bali has a “hand phone,” but I hadn’t seen any towers until today. Undoubtedly they were there; I just didn’t notice.

We did stop at Pura Candi Dasa, a 12^th century complex built on several levels. We were clothed in sarongs and sashes and headed up 76 steps to the temple for Hariti, originally a child-eating ogress who converted to Buddhism and became a protector of children. Here is Ferdi partway down.

Then I went to the central, main, altar where women were preparing andpresenting flower and food offerings and praying.

Across the road from the temple was a lotus lagoon, man-made but lovely.

At many of the villages through which we drove, we had seen groups of men and boys working on, or just gathered around, the ogoh-ogoh figures, being constructed (most for ritual demise) to celebrate Pengerupuk, the day before Nyepi (more on that tomorrow), which celebrates the purification of bad evil to become good spirits. I tried to take some pictures from the van but finally asked Ferdi to stop so I could get some better photos. The first figure I saw was an old friend – Haman, the white monkey, from the Kecak dance.

The finishing touches were being put on the largest, two-figure, statue.

There were many impressive ogoh-ogoh lined up on the street across from the temple which will be paraded around.

Get a load of that tongue! Female does not equal beautiful.

Several of the ogoh-ogoh statues even had battery-operated lights for the after-dark parade.

It is likely that Monte and Helen will participate in one of the parades in the Kuta area, following the figures down the street with great revelry and noise, ending at the beach for a ceremonial destruction. Either the whole figure or at least the head will be destroyed showing victory over the evil spirits. Because of my being in the hinterlands, without transportation, I will not have the opportunity for participation in this Tawur Agung Kesanga ceremony.

We arrived about noon at Taman Tirtagangga, the royal palace and water gardens created by the last Rajah/King of Karangasen in 1948 and modeled after Versailles Palace. Decided to tour first and then eat lunch at the Tirta Ayu Hotel and Restaurant which was originally part of the palace. The grounds are beautiful. The central feature is a fountain with water pouring down the sides of an 11-tiered pagoda.

One could have walked the steppingstone path through the one pool; I didn’t.

I did, however, cross this bridge.

One can, for a fee, swim in one of the pools. It is spring-fed water and so quite cold. However, according to the brochure: “Island healers have praised the waters of the holy spring at Tirtagangga, for their health and youth giving powers. It is said that if one bathes in the waters of Tirtagangga on the full moon, one is blessed with lasting youth and all illnesses will be healed.” Perhaps that’s worth being a little chilly. My guess is that this young man was there for sport, not healing.

There were many stone animals, some spouting water

and some not.

There were some real animals, however.

Most of the dogs and cats seen in Bali are very sad. Although many are attached to a family, even they run wild and seem to have to scrounge for their own food as this dog is doing on the palace grounds, eating from the offerings to the gods which are left everywhere. And many dogs and cats are completely wild with no links to a family. I was told that, because of the prevalence of rabies, many dogs and cats in eastern Bali have recently been killed by the government. As a pet owner and lover, it was difficult to see these frequently emaciated and often ill-looking dogs and cats; despite missing Katy and Jackson, I did not approach any of these animals.. I’ll wait for my pet “fix” until I arrive in urban Korea where dogs, in particular, are as cosseted as those in the U.S.

The last stop before arrival at Amed was to see and photograph the rice fields. The smaller very dark green patch on the bottom picture is of seedlings about ready to transplant – back-breaking hand work.

We reached the Baliku Boutique Hotel about 2:30 p.m. It has only five rooms, four of which had guests for tonight and tomorrow.

The room is elegant

with a wonderful outdoor verandah (for lying and sitting)

that has great views out to sea and back to the hills.

The dining area overlooks the road and out to the sea.

The only downside to the Baliku is no WiFi and a hard-wired computer connection (probably dial-up) that didn’t work. I pressed the staff into letting me use the hotel computer so I could let Monte know I’d arrived and not to expect further communication or blogs from this location.

I had come to this area particularly because I wanted to snorkel. We’d been told via e-mail that I could do so even though one is not supposed to do that sort of thing on Nyepi. I threw a hissy-fit and finally it seemed as if the manager said it would be okay to snorkel tomorrow. But that made me nervous so I decided I’d better do so this afternoon – just to make sure.

From the Galapagos trip I own a snorkel mask (prescription so I can see) and breathing apparatus. Rented a pair of fins for the sum of 25 cents and made arrangements to keep them overnight to use tomorrow. (I’m not sure the fellow doing the renting understood most of what I said, but he seemed okay when I walked off with the flippers an hour later.) The snorkeling was very nice – some beautiful fish and interesting rock and coral formations. I had a bit of trouble with the mask leaking somewhat and getting water (salt & burning) into my throat requiring several returns to shore to clear things out. But I still thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Getting in and out of the water was a bit of a challenge because the beach is rocky – very tough on my poor, tender, feet.

Returned to the room after ordering a glass of wine to be delivered and planned on a long bath in my huge tub. The best laid plans. . . . The wine turned out to be very sweet (sherry, perhaps) and completely undrinkable, and there was no hot water. So I took a tepid shower and cleaned up for dinner, arriving at the dining area about 6:30. Bought a whole bottle of wine (an extravagance at about $28), the remains of which I put in the fridge in my room for tomorrow.

Watched a little TV (news programs from various countries, in English of course) and read a bit. At 9 p.m. I was unable to keep my eyes open – the result, I think, of a combination of factors: the incredibly dim light in the room (thank goodness for my book light), the drive on hilly, curvy, roads, and the hour’s worth of snorkeling. In any event I stopped reading at 9 and was sound asleep at 9:01!