Bali in December...

Before Christmas, we spent a week in Bali.  We have been holding Cooper's diving equipment hostage in Jakarta, so when he came home to a place he'd never been before, we figured the least we could do was give him a chance to use it.  

[reminder- clicking on pictures will enlarge most of them]

The Jakarta airport has, in addition to the interior signage, these lovely gate numbers outside...

and the terminal is on these grounds, which is such a nice change from the usual steel and asphalt.

That's our gate, under the red roof.  We walked down a long hallway to the right, with views on both sides of the grounds and plantings.

This was the first time we've gotten to use the domestic terminal, and it was such a happy surprise, I snapped photos to share.  :-)

Once we arrived in Bali we stayed at the Tandjung Sari hotel on the south side of the island, away from the crowds and madness further west. 

There is a tradition in Indonesia that guests are 'gonged' when they arrive.  One of our favorite restaurants here in Jakarta gongs us in, most nights.   

This is the gong at the Tandjung Sari, and we were shuffled over to it when we first got there to be properly gonged.

This is the hotel driveway, and from the open air front desk we were taken to our bungalow which contained this...   

   

...which was quickly dubbed "The Princess Bed" and was one of the most comfortable beds we've ever slept in. 

We also had a giant tub which we never used (Coop rinsed his diving gear in it), because we had an outdoor shower in a little courtyard off the back of our bungalow. 

This little carved door led from our outdoor shower to the yard outside the bungalow,

which contained this outdoor relaxing thingie...

...that we were glad to use for relaxing.  (that's my scale model showing you how to use it)

The hotel beachfront contained not only a bar-

but also a dining room, decorative gate, beach chairs and umbrellas, and a larger outdoor relaxing thingie in which we sat all afternoon one rainy day and read books while seated on giant padded furniture as the rain pattered on palm leaves and people with big umbrellas brought drinks with little umbrellas from the bar. 

One of our favorite things...

...the hotel gate (the whole property was open to the beach twenty feet to the right, but the gate was such a nice touch, we used it sometimes anyway). 

The hotel from the beach looking back:

The flowers that were everywhere you went in the hotel...

and my scale model, demonstrating proper use of beach equipment while auditioning for a Corona commercial...

On our last night there, it was clearing after a mostly rainy day and the nearby volcano on an island just off shore popped out of the mist...

and then the small islands to the right were silhouetted by the dying light... (this was the area we were snorkeling when Coop saw the manta rays).

It was just as cool as it looks. 

BUT, since we had never been to Bali before we felt obligated to pry our butts off the hotel's many comfy chairs and do a little exploring.  So while Coop went off to dive without us we headed into the center of the island in search of new and interesting things. 

This particular day was a holiday on Bali, and we got to see lots of people in their best clothes headed to family celebrations or off to the temples to give special offerings. 

In Ubud, there were lots of traditional coco palm "lanterns" on the streets...

and detail of one...

Plus, from the vantage point of our really good rooftop terrace restaurant, we were able to see a family's backyard shrine...

all dressed up for the holiday.

We also spent time snorkeling while Coop dove.  On one of the days, we rode to the east side of the island where there is a WWII ship sunk in shallow waters just off the coast so it can be snorkeled and scuba-ed.  This is the view from the ocean back at the shore- black sand beaches and lots of volcanic rock smoothed by time.

Nearby in this area we saw some of the ubiquitous offerings...

We learned during our stay in Bali that the offerings left on the sidewalks or ground are for the demons and it's okay if they get kicked accidentally- the offering is considered complete as soon as it is placed, so dogs eating the crackers they contain, or clumsy tourists tripping over them doesn't change the effect.  Whatever that effect might be. 

Offerings for the good spirits are placed higher, on shrines and things, and remain undisturbed usually.  There were fresh ones every day in the places we passed.

In a different place, on another day, Cooper dove an underwater wall while we snorkeled above, and I got this shot of him before he disappeared into the depths...

and then we moved to an area called Manta Point where, if you are lucky, Manta Rays come to be cleaned by fish that apparently like to do that sort of thing, and snorkelers have a chance to glimpse them from above.

Unfortunately, the day was kind of stormy, and the sea at Manta Point was too choppy for snorkeling, so while Coop went under to the calm waters, we stayed with the boat and took pictures...

Not too shabby for scenery.  And Coop got to see two Manta Rays with six foot wingspans, so he was happy too. 

Different day, new dry land trip.

We wanted to see the famous rice paddies of interior Bali ("we" being Ted and I but we made Cooper come anyway), and we wanted to visit a temple ("we" being all three of us, so rice paddy grumbling was kept to a minimum), and we headed up the center of the island again, just west of Ubud to a place called Jatiluwih. 

It's not the normal growing season for rice, so there is very little planted right now, but the terraces are always there.

You get the idea.  

And here's a shot of one of the few planted paddies, just so you know what it looks like growing...

Meanwhile, it's easy to get a volcano in any picture on Bali, so of course we did...

...and that's a cloud, not steam.  Just so you don't worry.  

Our temple for the day was Pura Luhur Batukau just north and a little west of Jatiluwih, and WAY off the beaten path, so there were almost no other people there, and most of the other people were actually worshipers and not tourists, so yay us!

We had a guide, which was really good, because in addition to explaining the temple itself to us, he was also able to help us not be dimwitted tourists and do rude/forbidden things while exploring.  We all wore sarongs as skirts and I swore I took a picture of the guys because they looked hot, but alas- it's not on my camera.  :-( 

Anyway, the temple.  There were rules posted in the slightly off kilter translation that we've come to love in countries all over the world.  Here is today's:

Our language skills are not good enough yet to get help from our guide regarding number 3.  We can't believe that a woman is prohibited from entering if she has a child under age 5, but losing that first tooth stumps us.

And we thought maybe number 6 was just a harsh translation of a different sentiment, but the bahasa original on the Indonesian side of the sign said "6. Orang gila", which means 'crazy person', so I guess it's right on target.  Although crazy people aren't too good about self selecting, so they probably rely on family members to out them which opens a whole new can of worms.  At least it would in my family. 

This temple has a lake with a miniature replica of the temple on an island in the center.  There are stepping stones from the shore to the island (Priests only please!), so it looks like the person heading out to the island is walking on water which we thought was a nice touch.  But no one was headed out while we were there, so we all have to just imagine it.

This area is used to assemble offerings.

Tons of fish in this lake.  You can see one between the fourth and fifth stone.

Temples always have an odd number of roof tiers.

I don't know where this door leads.  But it was such a beautiful door, I wanted to share.  

And this is the bell tower.  At the very top, under the fringed canopy, is where the bell ringer stands.  The bell itself is wooden. 

And lest you think we were getting too much culture and refinement from all this I'll add a picture of our favorite statue on the grounds.  

How can you not love this chubby guy with an overbite?

We crammed a lot into our week in Bali, especially for us.  But we only scratched the surface of the island, so it's a good thing that it's less than two hours by astonishingly inexpensive plane so we can return a lot and explore while getting in some serious sloth...uh...meditation time.  

We were charmed by the many traditions and rituals of Balinese people.  It is really interesting to leave a predominately Muslim part of Indonesia for a predominately Hindu part of Indonesia and have the routines and culture stay mostly the same with an entirely different slant on life.  We heard the occasional Muezzin call as we traveled, but Bali is mostly Hindu, very quiet and peaceful, and completely without high rises or freeways.  

We look forward to lots of future deep thinking opportunities while prone on a beach with our eyes closed so we can concentrate. 

And to more statues.  

This one is from the hotel grounds.  We've given him a back story, but you'll have to make up your own.  

New Year's Fish!

Happy New Year!  Welcome to 2011, and fair warning- if you have a hangover, you might want to save this blog for later...

Our family outing for the first part of New Year's Eve was to head out to our local Fish Spa Therapy center.

That's right- Fish Spa.

Tiny little fish from the Carp family lie in wait in pools of clear water until you stick your legs in the water and then they attack you from all sides and begin exfoliating your skin.  

Like this...

It tickles at first.  Then it starts to feel like you have your feet in a carbonated beverage that won't stop bubbling.  When you lift your feet out, they all just swim to new feet.  And you lift your feet out a lot, since it feels really strange and they won't stop swimming between your toes and it's hard to stop laughing.



Here's Ted, with his arm sticker telling how long we get to stay...

We got 20 minutes for about $17 for the three of us.


It was worth twice that.

First they washed our feet and calves, then we were given cushions to put on the bench in a private pool just for the three of us and fun began. 













This was the view from our poolside seats...














and it was everything the brochure promised.

"Natural exfoliation...micro masssage from the little masseurs...release stress and tension...perpetual laughter."

Then the guy came and asked us if we wanted the "bigger fish" and I was the only one who said yes!

So while my big strong men stayed with the little fish and giggled, I moved about four feet away and stuck my legs in the new pond full of Woman Eating Fish (technically true, although they only eat a micro dot at a time- theoretically I could have been gobbled up completely given enough time).

I was alone in the new pond and this is what happened...

Ignoring my renewed giggles of excrutiation, Coop relaxed with the original attack fish.

You can see how concerned he was for my safety.

We all agreed that Fish Spa Therapy is going to become a regular beauty routine.

Anything this funny that's good for you is a no brainer.


And now the best part- we might go for broke next New Year's.

They will give you a full body fish attack for under $30 bucks, and we have a full year to screw up our courage.

Selamat Natal Dan Tahun Baru

And now you know how to say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year in Bahasa Indonesia.

Well, actually you know how to say Congratulations Christmas and New Year.

But the sentiment is the same.

As you may or may not know, Indonesia is a country with a Muslim majority.

That does NOT mean it's a Muslim country- there is a difference.

The people here are not defined by their religion, but by who they are and how they live.  In fact, Indonesians are very proud of the way their country welcomes people of many denominations and faiths.

Among the holidays celebrated here are Idul Fitre (the end of Ramadan), Chinese New Year, Islamic New Year, Hindu New Year, Buddha's birthday, Christmas, and a couple of completely secular celebrations.  These are all "close down the post office, stay home from work" holidays.  And a great chance to find out things you never knew.

But currently, as in America, Jakarta is given over to Christmas.  There is money to be made, so the department stores have Trim a Tree shops and the loudspeakers play holiday tunes (although to be sure, they tend more to Jingle Bells than O Holy Night).

Many of the malls have odd center court decorations - Pacific Place has a really creepy giant plastic ball (I'm talking 30 feet high) with a Santa's Workshop tableau inside.  I have no idea who thought that up or what the reasoning behind it is, but mostly it just makes me think of suffocating elves.

And there are not, understandably, lines of children waiting to speak to Santa and have their picture taken.

In fact, there are no Santas.  At least no place we go.

Until yesterday.

Then we saw this guy at Plaza Senayan.

Let me make sure you know what you are looking at.  This is a manufactured rice paddy in the middle of the first floor of a seven floor mall.  There is a live band singing Christmas carols under the roof of the building. There are giant cloth butterflies, there is a rickshaw with someone in some kind of costume inside, and there is an elf working the sound board for the band.

Santa's job is to wander the board walk, ringing a hand bell (because someone told them that Santa in America rings a hand bell), and be available for anyone brave enough to come up to him to say Hi.  We saw exactly one person with that particular need.

You go Santa!

Poor St. Nick was bored out of his skull, in a country full of spectacularly boring jobs.  He chatted with the rickshaw person, and dinged his bell and very obviously wished he had kept his day job watching paint dry.

But when we went into Sogo's Trim a Tree shop in a fruitless attempt to find a Christmas ornament that didn't come from the United States, we were treated to the best worst Christmas tree ever...

Yes it's red.

Of course it's red!

Red is one of the main Christmas colors!

And it's exactly the red you see.  Not a cherry red, or a fire engine red, but the cheap, faded, pinkish red of a Vegas show girl on the back side of over the hill.

An "in your face, I dare you to buy me" red.

I have seen garish trees in the U.S.- sparkly trees, silver trees, you name it.  But for whatever reason, this red tree is a first for me and it is even worse in person.

So if they have these where you live too, and you think it's swell- I'm sorry.  I would never intentionally hurt your feelings.

But oy!  You might want to re-think your choice, or come here where people would nod and smile and congratulate you on your cutting edge Christmas taste.

And you can make fun of me if you want, because our Christmas tree came in a box from Hobby Lobby and it's six feet tall and two feet wide with pre-strung white lights and no decorations except one Earth ball.

But no matter what your tree looks like, and for many of our friends it would look like a heathen Solstice Bush, or actually be a Menorah, enjoy your holidays and know that we wish you all Selamat Natal!

A Trip to the Beach(ish).

Jakarta is a coastal city.  We are on the north coast of the island of Java, and the city runs in all directions from the ocean about 25 miles.  

Our house is about 15 miles directly south of the coast, and last weekend we finally had our lives in order enough to do something for no good reason, so we decided to explore the beach area.  

Unfortunately, the bad news is that like the people of Ghana, the people of Jakarta do not consider their beaches to be prime real estate.  

The mess, litter and runoff of the entire city run to the sea here, so the water is polluted with that and other questionable ingredients, and rafts of trash float into the breakwaters and collect in the corners of the sea walls.  

There is a chunk of the beachfront area reclaimed from the industrial works and slums and turned into an amusement park/marina/city park area and it attracts many people on the weekends.  

There is even a section of water cordoned off for swimming, but after looking at the water you would, in my opinion, have to have a need to become ill in two or three ways at once to brave it.  Suffice to say I don't swim in water the color of used dishwater on roast beef night, especially when it has stuff floating in and on it.  

But on to cheerier things!  

We love official signs translated wrong.  They always make us smile, and remind us that no matter how bad our Indonesian is, all will be forgiven.  

So here's today's Good Sign:

Since we know for a fact that we ask people stupid things like "Us soon drinks?" we feel solidarity across the language barrier. 


Dilarang is a word you see often- dilarang parking, dilarang enter, dilarang dumping.  And if you pronounce that 'c' as 'ch', you will sound like a native. 

[dee-lah-rahng meh-mahn-cheeng] 

Go ahead and practice, no one will hear you. 


To the right of that sign and the marina behind it, are the grounds of the beach front park. 

People just bring their families and hang out.  You can rent little shade cloths that are set up under the trees and put your beach blanket in them and just chill. 




In the tropics. :-)


The sidewalks along the sea wall are fun...

The red thing coming towards the camera is the ice cream man.  He even plays ice cream man music. 


















Views to the water from the red brick road...

The roofs are little fish cleaning/shade huts.

Combination of humid air/water vapor and pollution.

These boats sell rides.  If we ever do this, I'll take you with.

Our Ship Comes In...

Finally!  

Our ship came in on schedule and our shipment actually got through customs a little faster than expected, so on Wednesday October 27th, our things were delivered to us by a crew of 15 Asian Tiger employees (10 at the house, 5 at the dock).  

Where have I been since then?  Buried under a mountain of boxes, paper, books, dishes, clothes, and furniture scattered around willy nilly. 


Every time we move, I say "no more!" - then in a few years I say "Okay!".  This is house number 15, move number 14 in our 32 years of marriage, so I guess we are unregenerate.

We can, however, see the end of our moving days coming down the pike because we are not as limber or tough as we used to be. A day of bending, lifting, shoving, and reaching leaves us with a wicked set of aches and pains, and sends us to bed at night exhausted and hopped up on Motrin. 
 

Anyway.  Here are some pictures of the arrival of the first lift truck (our street is too narrow for the container, so it was offloaded into 4 lift trucks [10 crates]).  

Watching the lift truck squeeze onto our street...

10 minutes into a 20 minute squeeze. This first pass was a challenge.

Finally in.

The ten guys who worked at the house were ready and waiting, and when the crates were opened Ted and their supervisor stood on the porch and checked off inventory on duplicate lists, while I stood in the foyer and directed each box to its proper room.  

Every room had been labeled with little taped papers, and the bedrooms had been labeled in Indonesian number words.  

I kept having to count on my fingers to remember the correct word for the room I needed- while ten guys backed up and waited for Nyonya Collier to get with the program.  


And of course, about 25% of the time I was putting things in the wrong room anyway and they had to be moved later when I discovered my mistake.  



It was hectic, often hilarious, and we all got short breathers as the empty truck left and was replaced by a full one. 

After lunch everyone came inside and the flurry of unpacking began.  Usually we take delivery and toss everyone out, but unlike U.S. movers, the Asian Tigers are very willing to do unpacking and we really didn't have much space for the detritus of moving, so we pointed out the things we wanted unpacked and assembled and the boxes we wanted unpacked (some boxes just shouldn't be unpacked by strangers, for example, our dainties) and we circulated around the house responding to the occasional chorus of "Ooh....!" which meant something had come out of a box or wrapping in a condition not assumed to be good.  

That is the peril of moving, under the column "Things to be expected."

There were times, however, when I would enter a room and someone would be proudly pointing to an item clearly marked FOR STORAGE.  In fact, this happened an alarming number of times.  

I would like to enter the following into evidence... 

 
And just to put too fine a point on it, here's a closeup of that sticker.

 Now I realize this is blurry, but I am pretty sure that all of you, on a different continent, with a bad picture, can read that.  





STORAGE. 


Would have been funny once.  Might have been amusing twice.  But we have a pantload of things here with us in Indonesia that had no business being shipped.  Books we've read, furniture we can't use, about half a dozen 110v. small appliances, and incredibly, our Toy Story movie poster, which had been rolled up in a cardboard tube and put in a room that was 100% storage.  Some packer went shopping for a tube sized item to fill a box and voila! it's here with us. 



That is the peril of moving, under the column "Things that Should Not Happen".  

And of course, the B side of our unexpected (and unwanted) booty is the unfortunate counterpart- things that were sea shipment that got put in storage.  

For instance a brand new room sized rug, Ted's noise canceling headphones, and things we haven't missed yet, but will, which will start a new frenzy of bad language and pointless stomping around the house wishing ill on our packers.

We'll get over it.  But it's still annoying.  So I whine to you.  



There is a third column, "Things I Didn't Know Could Happen".  



I figured cast iron was pretty safe, movingwise.  Ha!  Nope.  Check it:

Cast iron candle holder.  Cracked and bent at the solder.  So technically the cast iron didn't get damaged, but still...

I can use this one when I want my melted wax to be offloaded onto the floor automatically.  

Oh wait, I probably don't want that.  Ever.

Again, small problem in a world with lots of actual problems.  

A little bending, a little solder, and it's good as new.  But the Asian Tigers all gathered around this one when it came out and made all kinds of fussy noises.  This was a first for them too.  







At one point, the Basket o' Dog Things was unveiled, and Elliot was ready to check his squeaky toys for damage...

He was relieved to find, after exhausting tests, there was no damage and all toys were  in squeaking order.  



As you can see, Dead Frog and Soft Box with Balls won the "I Missed You Most!" Sweepstakes.


So once these... 

 






                                                   

and these...

Became more like this...











...we reached a moment of truth.  


I have never had the movers unpack my kitchen, because I rarely know how things are going to be stuffed into my cupboards.

I usually end up arranging and re-arranging in an endless loop of "close to the dishwasher for unloading" vs. "close to the island for cooking" indecision.  


But our Asian Tigers were present, willing, and our small kitchen was, well, too small for all those boxes. 

Tidy, for sure, but not really accessible.  So my agreement to let them unpack the kitchen was met with bright smiles and an immediate flurry of activity in the kitchen.  

 There were actually five guys in there at one point... one of them sitting on the floor carefully arranging as many things as he could in the bottom cupboards since all the upper ones were full, and we still ended up with the back third of the kitchen floor full of dishes, glasses and pans.  



But all my boxes and paper were gone, and that was the ultimate goal, so yay.  

By 3 o'clock all our stuff was in the house, and a very major chunk of it was released from its cardboard bondage. 

Everyone disappeared in a pile on one of the lift trucks, waving and shouting goodbye, but by that time my camera was hopelessly lost in the mess so you'll just have to use your imagination. 

In the succeeding days in an attempt to keep my blood pressure at unnacceptably high levels, I found some choice items to remind me that moving is just hard on your stuff. 

And in the end it's just stuff.

But here's your parting shot in case you are tempted to move anytime soon and want to be talked down off that particular ledge...