Bali R&D Trip Nov. 2008

Upon arriving at Denpasar’s airport I immediately picked up on many familiar impressions. The first was the heat. The last time here we’d been in tropical Asia for a couple months and there was not adjustment necessary. But coming from cold, overcast November Seattle was more of a shock. We later learned that Bali experiences a few short weeks each year when the temperature spikes from their well-advertised year round 85 degrees. Turns out one of those brief periods falls in Nov., just before the rains set in. So for our first week we experienced temps in the high 90s.

A much more pleasant reminder was the temple right in the airport. Bali boasts thousands of temples so one sees them virtually everywhere. The familiar “split gate” entrance and pagoda-like meru were welcome sights and took me right back. The second pleasant reminder was how friendly the Balinese people are. Everyone smiles all the time. One is always pleasantly and genuinely greeted – from the passport control, visa issue, and baggage check to the currency exchange and taxi line-up. Everyone was engaging and ready to help.

We passed up the official taxi line and bargained with a driver hanging about for a fare. We bargained good-naturedly and knocked off close to 50% from the “official” fare. Our driver was pleasant with his limited English. He told me which mobile phone company would best suit our needs and pointed out a place to buy the appropriate chip near our hotel. Once away from the airport we were assaulted with the distinctive smells of Bali: tropical flowers, roasting meat with eastern spices and clove cigarettes (not so nice but distinctive and memorable).

Familiar sights greeted us as well. We saw the traditional red pants and hats among most of the taxi drivers at the airport. We were immediately reminded that the Thais drive on the opposite side of the street form us. Signs for Bintang beer reminded us of our favorite chilled beverage – soon to be tasted. We passed many vendors selling the colorful fabrics of Bali along with the usual tourist fare: T-shirts, swim suits, sun block, and souvenir trinkets. New sights included Starbucks, McDonalds, and KFC (in Kuta).

We checked into the hotel we’d booked. It was a high-end budget place with simple, AC rooms, basic but private bath, and a pool for Maia. Quite a step up from our budget days. I love how the Balinese take so much pride in their architecture. Even this budget hotel had traditional architectural appointments: carved doors, decorative masks, and stone statuary throughout a central garden. I tripped going up the stairs to our room, reminding myself that regular, even stairs are a western phenomenon.

After checking in we went out to explore the neighborhood. The tourist economy is obvious as the streets were lined with warungs and restaurants, Losmen and Hotels, Circle K (convenience) stores, travel agents, clothing stores, and market stalls selling every souvenir imaginable. Right away we encountered the ubiquitous practice of tiny offerings being places in front of shops, homes, hotels, and temples at all times of the day. Keeping the gods happy is a full-time pursuit in Bali. Even though Bali has been greatly developed over the years, one is quickly reminded to watch your step for broken pavements and the various flotsam of a rural culture gone urban.

Our first days were spent looking for hotels and restaurants to use for the tour. Some of our fondest recollections of Bali were the family compound style accommodation we’d enjoyed. So naturally we sought hotels with that same kind of authentic character. As we visited many locations I was reminded of how commonly volcanic materials are used in construction here. Tufa-like bricks are very common for their ease in production and carving. Flowers are a common motif, hardly surprising in the tropics. With the exception of Kuta, the rest of Bali seems committed to keeping their traditional culture alive in their architecture. So pleasant. Then there are the modern adaptations that don’t quite make the grade (in my opinion). I’m thinking of the plastic aquarium I found mounted over a urinal in the airport. I have to give points for creativity and uniqueness.

As we traveled around the island I was struck by the Balinese love for ostentatious, public art. In most towns of size there is at least one monumental statue, usually some Hindu deity, at a major intersection or entrance. I’m starting to understand that there is, at best, only a blurred line between art for life and life as art here. Balinese culture is so enveloped in ceremony, performance, sacrifice, and devotion. In a way that I’ve never experienced anywhere else, these elements seem to be a part of every day and every person’s life – not just dusted off for big festival days. There are statues everywhere – from the huge ones mentioned above to smaller, private garden versions. They are venerated, dressed, and adorned with flowers all the time. The creation and giving of votive offerings is truly a constant, daily activity for all.

We ventured out to Amed on the east coast of the island. It is much less developed than other beach areas. The beaches are not golden sand like Sanur, Kuta, or even Lovina and Candidasa. Instead they are pebble beaches. But the lack of commercial tourist crush is refreshing and the scalloped coast is striking. Multiple inlet beaches are lined with colorful outrigger canoes with eyes painted on their prows. Between the half dozen villages the landscape is dominated by palm trees. The drive from Selang (southeastern-most village) to Ujung was very windy and slow but allowed a glimpse of what remains of authentic Balinese village life and many stunning vistas. We saw many children working or going to school and women shucking corn or doing other tasks. Everyone was friendly and eager to have their picture taken.

The drive from Amed back west across the slopes of Gunung Agung afforded repeated views of emerald rice terraces glinting in the sun. As the guidebooks say, it defies ones ability to find new words for description (verdant, lush, vernal, luxuriant). Mt Batur was shrouded in mist but nonetheless dramatic as we arrived at the lip of the caldera. We could pick out glimpses of the silver lake below and occasional clearing of the clouds allowed the lava dome to briefly appear. We were ever so pleased with the Lakeview hotel perched on the caldera rim. It provides a comfortable venue for the group to enjoy the sunset/sunrise. The brisk mountain air was a welcome change.

Having accomplished our goals for Batur we headed south to Ubud. More remarkable rice terrace views and several wood carving villages made the drive interesting. We settled into our hotel room at Nick’s Guesthouse as the day’s light was failing. Ubud has grown tremendously in the last 15 years but seems to have retained its essential character. A comment I can add for Bali in general. There are many, many more hotels, restaurants, and shops but one can easily slip away from the bustle by leaving the main roads on any alley – soon you are wandering through rice fields of climbing down steep, secluded feeling river valleys. It is quite remarkable really.

Ubud was full of memories: finding hot tea in a vacuum pot on your porch each morning, banana pancakes and fresh fruit for breakfast, misspelled signs like “taksi”, and the sounds of performances every night. Lots of great, creative restaurant options, the well-organized tourist information office, and plenty of activities to engage in. At the Circle K I found Birdy canned coffee, a delight I discovered in Thailand last year. In a country where coffee is less than stellar, this was a welcome find. We had nasi goring and mie goring in the market like old times and roasted suckling pig at a famous warung near the main temple. Maia and Julie attended a performance of Barong/Legong and reported it is still as visually stunning and authentic as we remembered. Ubud is just high enough for it to be cooler than the coasts: still hot during the day but pleasant evenings. Maia and Julie shopped in the market while I nursed a sore back one day and we all spent lots of time in the pool. I also indulged in a massage 3 of the 4 days here. It cost about $8 and the girl came to the hotel and worked by the pool – heavenly!

We met with Dewa, a transport contact from Intrepid who turned out to be a great resource. He took me around to hotels and restaurants and introduced me to local guides. When I turned up lame (back) the second day he volunteered to take me to a traditional healer. I went willingly. I had quite the experience. The man’s name was Kokrai and thereafter, when I told any locals of my experience they all knew of him. Dewa arranged everything, which included driving me 15 minutes or so to another village and arranging an offering (which contained about $10). Kokrai was very old, maybe late 70s. He examined me more by touch than by question, using his hands and fingers. He had me lie on my back and he pinched my little toe with a stick – it really hurt and I squeaked more than once. He than had me twist my torso while he poked the heal of my other foot with his stick. Then back to the toe (ouch!). Then he had me sit up and stretch forward. While I sat he kneaded my neck, back, and shoulders. Then he asked me if I wished him to make me some medicine. He spoke English but also pantomimed how the medicine would be applied (although I didn’t understand at the time). I said yes so he made up the medicine. He chopped up several different herbs on a little chopping block on a table, put them in his mouth and chewed them up for a while, and then spewed them out on my lower back. The rest of the herbs he added to some oil and told me to apply it to my back each morning. I thanked him and we returned to Ubud. It was a fascinating experience and I must admit my back loosened up considerably as the day wore on and I recovered, day by day, much quicker than usual.

As was the case on our first visit 15 years ago, one of the most pleasant aspects of Bali is its people. They seem to be irrepressibly smiling, engaging, and friendly. At our first hotel in Kuta we met a family of wife, husband, and young daughter who was enamored of Maia. They spoke little English but were still able to communicate their genuine interest in us, our reason for being in Bali, and their wishes for us to enjoy their island. And once the “conversation” turned to newly elected President Obama, they beamed with pride and expressed their excitement and optimism for all or our futures. Mr. Obama is held to be one of theirs in Indonesia, having lived in Jakarta in his youth. We found the name Obama to be the ultimate language barrier buster as its mere utterance elicited handshakes, smiles, and enthusiastic thumbs-ups. It is quite clear that the new president holds near messiah status here. We were already happy about his election but the special enthusiasm we encountered on Bali added to our excitement and expectation of a promising future. The globe is truly shrinking.

We concluded our R&D excursion excited about the prospects of introducing groups of our American clients to the wonders and beauty of this tropical paradise.

Maia' Bali Impressions

I thought Bali was very interesting because there were lots of different foods to try. My favorite was chicken satay. I kept having it every day and it was so good but never quite as tasty as the satay we had in Chinatown in Bangkok Thailand. Even though I wasn’t very excited about the sights they were amazing and interesting in their own way. On the way out of Tanah Lot we came across two old women selling sticky rice things. I didn’t know what they were but of course my dad made my try them. My parents liked them but I really didn’t that much. Another food I enjoyed was roasted corn on the cob from Mt Batur. It was roasted over coals, buttered and salted. It was the best corn I’d ever had.

There were a few sights I did like. Like Ulu Watu. It was very interesting because there were wild monkeys everywhere. You had to be very careful because the monkeys would steal anything that caught their eye. The temple on the cliff was beautiful. Tanah Lot was another fun temple because I had fun floating flowers down the stream while my parents looked at the sights. One of the other highlights for me was Tirtagangga, a water temple that had pools, fountains, and lakes. Part of the time I was skipping along stepping stones in one of the pools. The rest of the time I was swimming in the freezing cold pools that had lots of fish.

Shopping was great. I had a lot of fun picking out dresses. There were so many exotic dresses there that I could look at and beg my mother to buy for me. I really had a great time, except the fact that it was very hot.

One of my favorite parts to the trip was that almost every hotel we stayed in had a swimming pool. I got to swim in them almost every day. I liked them all but my favorite was in a small hotel in Jogjakarta where there was a long, rectangular pool that I got to swim in in the rain. Normally in Seattle it would be far to cold to swim in the rain. But in Bali it was always hot enough. On the last day in Jogja, before we went to the airport, my father and I went to an arcade with lots of video games. I had a great time there. I’d never actually been to an arcade before. We went to the bird market and I really didn’t enjoy it because there seemed to be so many animals that seemed to be suffering. They were all in small little cages. It smelled bad and it was so hot so I recommend that if you like animals you should not go to the bird market.

One of the places that I went with my family was Waterbom Park. It was a water park with slides. My favorite ride was the Macaroni Tube. You climbed a tower to a waterslide, got on an inner tube, and go down the slide. At first you were in the open but suddenly you went into a tunnel. It was very scary the first time I went but after it became my favorite. At the end you’d splash into a pool. A couple days later we went to Treetops Adventure park – a ropes course. I got in a harness that had pulleys and hooks. Then I walked over to the practice area and slid down a mini zip line, landing on a net at the end. When I was done practicing I went on the real course, starting with level two. It was very scary at the beginning with long zip lines and walking very high up in the trees. But I was always attached with my harness. I made it to level four, the highest I was allowed. Then we left and went to a little shop to have lunch. I felt something sticky and gooey on my leg. I pulled up my skirt and looked to see what it was. At first I thought it was a slug. But when I tried to pull it off it stuck there. It was biting my leg, it was a leech. It was small and harmless but still disgusting.

On the way home at the airport I was looking at my dad’s backpack and suddenly something green moved. I realized it was a gecko that had hitched a ride on the pack. I told my dad and he shook it off gently. I scared him into a corner so he wouldn’t get stepped on and then he scurried up the wall to safety. Apparently, he wanted to go to America!

Maia Coen (age 10)

First Jogja Visit 1993

Aug. 2 – Prambanan

We easily caught a bus headed for Solo since they leave about every 10-15 minutes. Within ½ hour we were gazing upon the tall spires in the distance. Getting inside the complex was a more confusing task. Nothing was marked well so once permitted to enter an outer gate we strolled through the souvenir stalls and right in the exit with hardly a word of resistance. The Japanese and French tourist groups dispersed enough for some “all alone at the sight” looking photos. We climbed up into a few of the temples dedicated to Shiva, Vishnu, and Brahma. Much of the complex had collapsed by the last century and was only reconstructed partially starting 1937. Blocks of the former splendor lie all around the reconstructed temples some day to be reassembled if the puzzle can be re-imagined.

Aug. 3 – Borobodur

We decided sunset was a better time for Borobodur so we walked to the bus stop and squeezed on a crowded bus. We arrived at a good time in the late afternoon and wondered the monument without many crowds. The structure itself is magnificent. Six levels rise up to the three bell-shaped stupa rows. Like a giant intricately decorated wedding cake the temple rises out of the palms with the mountain range behind. The sun was filtered through a large cloud cover giving dramatic highlights to the background range. Circumambulating the lower tiers I was able to have a more solitary experience, appreciating the headless Buddhas, fragments of relief illustrations of Buddhist teachings, and the setting sun. Above I hadn’t noticed that the stupas contained anything until I saw two which had the top removed to reveal a sitting Buddha figure. I then peered through the latticed stone to see that they all had a Buddha figure. Most of them were headless but the head was no longer within the stupa. When, how had they been removed? The tourist groups thinned out and we enjoyed the view of the entire monument from down below on the lawn just as the sun beamed out to highlight the stone . . . just beautiful.

First Bali Trip 1993

Excerpts from Julie’s journal:

Sunday Aug. 8 - Lake Bratan and Mt Batur

“It was a pretty drive back along the coast and cutting inland up the hill we passed a waterfall and continued to gain altitude and lose temperature. The air became quite cool. We stopped to watch the families of monkeys frolicking and grooming on the roadside with a peak through the trees at the lake below. This was a smaller body of water that we passed by to arrive at Lake Bratan and its Pura Ulun Danu temple (of the dead). Also marked by its souvenir row of kitsch we stayed away down on the shore and got some beautiful shots of the pagoda-like structures floating in the aqua-shaded water. The clouds had come in strong in the background and the sun filtered through the front for some beautifully dramatic lighting. For mid-day we couldn’t have asked for more. The short cut road from Bratan to Mt Batur was a rugged, rural lane taking us through areas we never would have found on our own. Past rice paddy fields, small villages, more temples up steep, curvy inclines and through banana palm groves we dodged the potholes and aggravated our driver by wanting to stop for photos. I loved driving along the ridge way above the deep-cut lush valleys. We could see the settlements beyond us as the ridge climbed to become the volcanic rim overlooking Lake Batur and the volcanic cone of Mt Batur. We drove down a side road toward the recommended hotel with reluctance from our driver again. We settled on a guesthouse in the small community of Kintamani without another tourist in sight, just us and the many cowardly barking dogs and the betel-stained blackened teeth of the locals who smiled at us with their remaining molars. We walked along the rim to take in the awe inspiring panorama of Lake Batur below us next to the volcanic Mt Batur. Peaks popped out of the clouds as sunset cleared away the last swirls of overcast to reveal Mt Abang and the towering Mt Agung in the background. We had stopped to visit the Pura Ulun Danu temple on the rim. It was also photographically inspiring with its numerous pagoda-style shrines as foreground. We donned the sarongs and temple sashes amidst a crowd of postcard sales girls who all told me I was beautiful so that I’d give them my lipstick and buy their tattered cards. We avoided them once inside and strode along the back of the walled complex taking in the small, neglected temples below, the winding paths into the valley and a binocular view of the lake villages beyond our reach. We had a bite to eat at a little “restauran” on the rim’s edge, again with a magnificent view nearly all to ourselves since the locals had long since taken their environment for granted.

Aug. 9 – Ubud

Ubud itself came up gradually from the east starting with some temples on the outskirts in rice paddy land. The road onward was dotted with art galleries then more densely with shops and restaurants. Very quaint and artistically oriented the streets were much smaller than I’d expected and charming side lanes led to Losmen tucked behind big Balinese archways into pretty landscaped gardens with bungalow-like rooms with inviting patios to relax and have tea in. We settled on the second guesthouse we saw and headed out for lunch. After a pleasant lunch of gado-gado, nasi goreng, and fruit juice Reid retreated to our bungalow to rest [a touch of Bali belly] and I explored the town. I got to know the town with my cameras and shopping encounters. The best spot I lingered in was a garden next to the Lotus Café with a huge lotus-flower/lily-pad pool in front of a temple complex. I waited patiently for the view to clear of other photographing tourists and just relaxed sitting on the pavilion floor. A flute-playing traveler walked up excusing himself to sit on the corner. I enjoyed the serenade while the sun popped out of and then back into the clouds again. I finally found my price on cotton sarongs here in the big market. They moaned about making no profit but agreed always when I’d walk away. Back at the room Reid had awoken still not feeling too well but we went toward getting transportation to Pejang for the temple ceremony at 6PM. With incomplete info I assumed we could hop in a Bemo pretty easily but this was not the case. We learned from another transport office that finding a way back would be difficult since most local transportation does not run after dark. We decided it would be better to stay in Ubud and go to the Legong dance performance at the palace. We had a good dinner by lantern light [electricity out for a while] at a small Warung on our side lane. We walked to the palace just before show time. The gamelan music had already begun and the palace was packed. Literally there wasn’t a seat in the house. We stood on the side and watched a very well executed variety of traditional dances we’d seen individually performed at Lovina Beach. The pieces are lengthy but it familiarized us better with the styles. The costumes are stunning with the elaborate gold chest and head pieces decorated with plumeria. Visions of Halloween costumes danced in my head.

Aug. 10 – Ubud

The roosters band together forming a chorus at daybreak. The Balinese like all Indonesian we’ve experienced rise early and the boy was already sprucing up the grounds and bringing us fresh hot water for tea before we emerged from our mosquito canopy. The mosquitoes aren’t too voracious here but it’s a nice security blanket to be tucked inside the net. Today we wanted to see some of the sights in the area so we set off walking down Monkey Forest Rd. True to its name, the forest contained many monkeys frolicking among the banyan trees. A moss-covered temple hid beside the stream and another neglected looking one crowned the hill. We joined the road which took us through Pengosekan a small artist community and went a few more kilometers past shops, rice paddy fields and traffic galore to the Goa Gajah (or Elephant Cave) which was discovered in 1925 and is believed to e a Buddhist hermitage but which now houses Hindu deities. In the square outside the cave’s entrance is a sunken bathing place with female shaped fountains which weren’t unearthed until the 1950’s. We went beyond up the road and down again to Yeh Pulu, a relief sculpture on a long wall of a hillside which was discovered around 1925 as well. The worn sculptural work wasn’t as interesting as the lovely walkway steps alongside a landscaped brook but what did it cost? $.50? Back on the main road we caught a Bemo north to Gunung Kawi, a group of burial towers carved out of a cliff among rice patties. We knew we were at one of Bali’s “best sights” because the souvenir stands lined the pathway down. Once passed the gauntlet the area was beautiful and quiet and we felt as if we were in a paradise meandering along the narrow paddy paths looking out at the palms, waterfalls, and large boulders in the stream. If paradise is a garden this would be a good candidate. The sheer size of the towers niched into the cliff was awesome – like a backdrop for an adventure film.

Aug. 12 – Ubud (eastern Bali)

On down the coast we turned our motorcycle inland a few kilometers to Tenganan, reputed to be the island’s oldest village. It is on display within the town walls. For a small donation one mey enter and stroll the long strip of land bordered with walled houses with long work pavilions down the center. Each of the houses now has their beautifully woven ikat cloth for sale, a tradition existing only in few remaining villages. The quality is exquisite. Ikat cloth is woven with threads pre-dyed to a pattern which is determined before it is woven. Double ikat is simply twice as complicated – the warp and the weft are both dyed in the predetermined pattern. We journeyed on past Amlapura, an attractive little town, to Ujung water palace. It was so quiet and peaceful as men painted dugouts, tended the fields, and stared at us with great curiosity. The abandoned water palace of the Raja of Karangasems was impressive. One could imagine the grandeur of the 1920’s complex with majestic stairways leading up to a crumbling pavilion overlook. Leaving the coast we headed uphill to our temple destination of Besakih. On the way we passed Tirtagangga, another better-kept water palace of terraced pools, fountains, and statues. We continued to climb heading back west toward Besakih. Between Selat, Muncan, and Rendang lay the day’s best scenery. As we climbed you could still see the water below and the rolling green hills. The cool mountain air reached us as we motored through more lush, green rice terraces and past panoramic view spots. We arrived at Besakih, the mother temple, at the end of the afternoon. The temple crowns a hilltop and is in good condition compared with many places of worship on the island. The grande4st, highest, largest Mt Agung revealed itself behind the temple as the cloud cover parted for few minutes as we were leaving. We rode down and back to Ubud as the sun set behind some more clouds on the horizon.

Aug. 14 – Kuta (Ulu Watu)

One more adventure tour with a rented motorcycle. After escaping the traffic of Kuta and the airport we headed down a small potholed road into the Bukit Penninsula. We passed through small villages and out to the temple of Ulu Watu. Perched atop a cliff jutting out above the ocean, it was one of the most beautiful complexes we’ve seen. The coastline is so much more dramatic at this southern tip of Bali. The morning overcast cleared and the deep blue waves crashed below as I balanced on a cliff’s edge to photograph the temple in the distance.

Aug. 16 – Cremation

Musicians led the parade followed by several paper mache temple decorations hoisted high, the cremation bull and the throne carrying the body inside. We followed along and climbed up the hill crowding and positioning with the rest for a good vantage point. The wrapped body was lowered into the bull’s cavity and anointed with holy water and many other offerings. From the glance I got at the head, this was the body of an elderly woman. Several other elders gathered on a mat below the cremation pyre for a series of prayers then larger offerings of elaborate paper decorations were placed beneath the bull and secured with large palm trunks. When they needed more wood they just cut down another small palm near the clearing . . . and the gamelan music played on. The sales didn’t stop during the preparatory rituals either. Cold drinks, bananas and table clothes still made the rounds. Women chanted below us as Reid moved so I could record the event. Two large gas torches were brought in and the bull and its passenger went up quickly in flames. I think I was more moved than anyone else. Reid even mentioned that the natives seem to have an acceptance for death as a logical end to life – cremation is just a necessary step to send the spirit onward. The bull was turned around several times by its corners in the procession to confuse the soul. The funeral tower containing the body is bounced, shaken, and spun as well as run all the way from the deceased’s home to the field. If the soul has not been sufficiently confused it might find its way back home. Since a funeral is an expensive affair the bodies are often buried for months or even years until the cremation can be afforded. Funerals are supposed to be fun in Bali with the animist influenced Hinduism are very colorful as well. However it seems to get a rather casual treatment from its own participants – confusing for our western way of thinking.

Tanah Lot

Once past the tourist stalls of souvenirs we gazed out at the dramatic cliffs and saw why the spot is renowned as the most spectacular. It really is stunning and as we walked down the headland a ways we saw Ulu Watu in the far disctance.