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Oh eat the salad, what the hell, who gives a shit?
Could these be famous last words as I contemplate whether or not it's safe to eat the salad over here?
Anyway -
I made it to Bali !!! Stopped in for a couple of large "Bintangs" (beer) for 10,000 rupiah each - an unbeliavable bargin at maybe 80 or 90p, and a Nasi Gurang at 'Made's Warung', which turned out to be chicken satay sticks with special fried rice and a scrambled egg on top. Sorry, I know it doesn't sound very Balianese to start with, but the local dishes are mostly veggie. I promise to be more adventurous when I havn't such an appetite.
As soon as I got through the airport I made my way down here to the madness of Kuta. This alone was a feat of amazing skill, since the roads here are crazy; take all the Parisian drivers and put them in Amsterdam at rush hour, throw in a few thousand lawless motorbikes and you'll have a vague idea what I mean. Checked in to my swanky hotel and am now sitting chatting to two Japanese girls who have a tube of this amazing green stuff that they're adding
Offerings
These are found all along the pavement in front of most shops, homes and temples. Who could have guessed Krishna had a taste in Ritz crackers?! to their meals. It's like rocket-hot lemon grass mixed with a slight hint of wasabi. Yum. I can't tell exactly...lost in translation.
...
We were soon joined at the table by 3 local looking lads who seemed friendly enough and it wasn't long before we were all chatting away, well, in broken English anyway.
Despite having 3 hours sleep, being on 2 flights and travelling thousands of miles it
was Saturday night and I quite fancied a few more of the rather tasty Bintangs, so suggested it to the guys.
Within minutes I was riding pillion on one of the guy's suicide-bikes through dark alleys, dodging cars and thinking it wasn't long before I was robbed to death and dumped in the middle of nowhere.
Turns out I was worrying for no reason and I ended up spending the next 3 hours at Jimy's house with his brother Abdin (22), and his mates Paul (32), Ian (24) and Ian's wife and child, drinking coffee and chatting about world politics, religion, Bali, neighbouring Sumartra (where it turned out they were all from), and global satellite signal interception.
?
Yes, Jimmy, Ian and Paul were
me and the Sumartran lads
Paul, Jimy, Ian's wife and baby, Ian, Abin, and me! computer nerds! Ha Ha! I was laughing inside as they eplained how with the help of some illegal electronics and the huge 1.8m 'parabola' (sat. dish) on the side or their house, they were able to hack into loads of encrypted transmissions and intercept global communications! It was all a bit of an eye opener. 3 of them slept in one room and yet they had more technical knock-how than most of the computer-geeks I know.
Abdin, Jimy's younger brother, talked with me for nearly an hour about his Fine Arts course in Ubud University, showing me his amazing portfolio and talking about his dreams to exhibit in England, France, Spain...worldwide. Not only this, he was teaching himself to play the drums using a pirated DVD of Dream Theatre to copy the moves and beats. He didn't even own a drum kit, just some drum sticks that he'd ordered over the internet.
It was then that it struck me: these people had such an incredible passion and pride for life and learning that it made me feel quite ashamed. They thought nothing of inviting a complete stranger back to their house in order to learn about that stranger's
life, country and to practive a foreign languge. Incredible.
Ok, stop the background rousing orchestral piece. There was another, less magnanimous reason that crept a few times into the conversation...they wanted to know how to get the seemingly fabled 'Aussie Girl' into bed.
Ah, erm, yes. Yet again I felt that I wasn't quite coming up to scratch. I tried my best at explaining why foreign girls mght be a bit cautious of locals since most locals that they meet want to sell them tat or deal them drugs or possible rob them....they seemed to understand and instantly came up with a cunning plan: I would chatt to the girls, then introduce Jimy and pals.
Joy, I'd now turned into Cila Black.
Anyway, we went clubbing at MBarGo and I had a bit of a dance and come 2:30 I was so shattered I made my excuses, took Jimy's phone number and bailed. Lovely day, and good start I think - Bali Rocks.
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