Ubud, and Slowing Down (Indonesia Part Two)

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....I wake up, the morning of the 9th, feeling melancholy. It feels very, very foreign...like sadness doesn't belong in a place like this. I decide to do my best not to look too far ahead my own footsteps. I am still, afterall, in paradise...

We all wake up and have breakfast, Adam packing his things and hitting the "road" (slash slow boat to Lombok, then Bali) before the rest of us. I take one more stroll down the strip, running into the dozens of friends I have somehow managed to make in the short time I have been here. They say when you live in a small town you know everybody. I always attach a time frame to that, like say "I grew up in a small town and I know everybody" or "I've lived in this town for years, and I know every gawl dang person in it"....not, "yeah I got here a couple of days ago, and man am I going to miss....everybody.

There was a group of English students from Lombok there to practice, for the first time, their English on REAL English speakers. Turns out I may have been one of the only receptive tourists that day...mainly because I was sitting alone on the beach catching some early morning rays and, you know, soaking it all in. Nonetheless, they were delightful, and I had many interesting chats with the kids, some leading to Indonesian lessons, which worked nicely for me.

Then it was time to go.

Katie apprehensively turned to me on the boat and said "should I take a Gravol? How bad is the boat ride?" Being the seasick prone one, I assured here she had nothing to worry about.....um, whoops. While I was passed out cold, sprawling obnoxiously over my whole seat, Katie was coiled in a fetal position on the floor at my feet, wishing for death. Note: do not heed my advice, on pretty much anything....

As we docked and got all of our things off, I went about haggling with one of the many drivers on the dock for a decent price to Ubud. Meanwhile, Allie and Jon were being whisked off to a separate shuttle bus to Kuta, and then into the sunset, never to be seen again (until, hopefully, Stampede). Oh yeah, goodbyes. Katie started to come unglued, followed shortly after by me, as the drivers paused mid-price debate to assure us that friendship is important, and to take our time to say our goodbyes (but that nothing is ever goodbye...not to worry). Have I mentioned that Indonesian people are the most amazingly and genuinely kind folk on the planet? I'm sure, before this is over, I will mention it again.

Then we were in an air conditioned van, winding slowly through the jungle whilst lush green rice fields occasionally peeked through the leaves, sporting long trailing kite-like "scarecrows" (tall poles with colored flags, reminiscent of clothing drying in a cool summer breeze). Katie and I got sentimental, examining the details of one of the most overwhelming weeks of our lives, and taking things as far back as Korea (though worlds away), touching briefly on the fact that things were ending, and changing....

...but what better way to begin change than rocking into Monkey Forest Road on a sunny afternoon?

We soon found a place at "Pramesti Bungalows"...two little "cottages" (Katie got the nice one in the back of the gardens, and Adam and I the basement of the one at the front door, complete with a lovely on-garden patio with...you guessed it ....high ceilings. The woman who owns the compound goes by the name of Made, along with hundreds of others on the island (if you have read Eat Pray Love...and let's face it , if you are female, chances are good...you would be aware of that fact that all people on Bali are given one of four names coinciding with their birth order in the family. Made (pronounced Ma-day) is the name given to the second born, male or female). She turns out to be one of the most important people I will meet on my trip, and a natural "mother on the island" (self-proclaimed, and rightly so).

Katie and I wander a little, go next door for little spinach and feta parcels to accompany, quite literally, the most delicious beverage ever to cross my lips (again, feels great to say that guilt free). It is a vanilla blueberry shake, and it is probably one of the first things I would recommend to anyone going to Ubud. GO to Wareong...have a blueberry shake.

Then we nap, which is interrupted by Adam's voice at the desk out my window stating he is looking for his Canadian girlfriend (side note: I don't know why I am always the "Canadian" girlfriend...just because I'm not American. I am a PERSON to...not just a Canadian person......😉 ) Turns out it wasn't so bad after all to take the long, long slow boat journey, or at least that's the story Adam went with.

So the three of us have some pizza and hit the hay, ready to explore the next morning. And off on foot, and camera clad we went, through the sketchy streets (no, I don't mean people...again, amazingly friendly. I mean the actual sidewalk. The tiles are precariouusly balanced over gaping holes beneath, and walking them is frightfully reminiscent of a funhouse floor, never knowing which stone is going to drop) of town, stopping for lunch at a garden restaurant for homemade ice cream and a delectable platter of local cuisine, and up a random road into the rice fields. We walk along this amazing path (after hopping the wall into someone's private temple) that winds through the terraces, as occasional motorbikes and men carrying long sheaths of rice stalks pass by. Adam buys a painting from a little old man on the side of the path, and we stake out our soon to be abodes out in the Eden that is Ubud (yes, there are actually little 'homes' for sale out in the middle of nowhere). Adam "saves my life" from a falling coconut, and we find ourselves in a little cafe that serves food right out of the organic garden you have to walk through to get onto the patio. We sip orange carrot ginger juice and pineapple wine and write and read and look, chatting with three other travelers having lunch, two of which turn out to be from Calgary (yep, all the way out here).

Later that night we take a little journey to a nearby village with Made and her husband to see the Kecak dance (the very same from the most amazing scene in "Baraka"...WATCH it if you haven't yet, or watch it again) where men form a circle around a central fire and sing a kind of monkey chant ("ke-chak-a-chak-a-chak") while dancers act out the story or Rama and Hanoman. Awesome....enough said.

The next day we began it bright and early by partaking in a little cooking class at Bumbu Bali. The chef took us through the food market to explain the different ingredients used in Balinese food, and the herbs to look for at home. Then, cinnamon in my hair, we returned to the restaurant to watch him cook, to learn, and to eat like I've never eaten before. Then we rolled outta there, and into the MOnkey Forest. Adam got cocky with a monkey, who made faces at him (which he thought were cute until he realized they were mocking him), and then tried to bite his entire face off. Later, after running to tell me the story, he returned to said monkey for round two. Boys will be boys. Eish.

Then Adam rents a motorbike, which I am at first apprehensive about. But, eager to spend as much QT with him as possible, I agree to hop on the back for the afternoon, leaving Katie to the spa. We motor through the streets out of town. I try to keep track of where we are and what direction we have gone, but lost that game miserably. Soon enough we are on a back road that leads up to a beautiful temple edged with giant banyan trees and swallows swooping in and out of the branches. We hop off and talk to the guy at the door, who after donation lets us go in without sarongs and traditional wear. However, before we have stepped two feet in, Adam casually mentioned he heard about a priest cremation today, and the guide jumps all over it. "Yes! It's right near here! My friend will take you!" So off we were, following said friend through the little hamlet streets to a field full of locals, hazed in sillouette by the billowing smoke that was only beginning to build from the fire in the center of it all. For the ceremony, they parade the body of the priest (or person, whoever it may be) through the streets on a large structure in a white bull statue (in the case of a priest), which they then burn later in a giant fiesta like setting. It was amazing, and Adam and I bought sarongs ans scarves so we were properly attired for the event.

Later, after our "guide" took us to his private home to show us his collection of paintings, we were back at Pura Samuan Tiga (the temple), completely alone in the quiet save for the guide, and three women at the top of the temple performing a ritual blessing ceremony involving flowers that are used to pray with and then put behind the ear, and holy water that is 'flicked' and poured in several direction with flasks and lemongrass stalks, and with burning incense. The ceremony was incredibly beautiful, and Adam and I stood silently on the steps behind them, watching in amazement. After, I stood stunned for a long time and how it is possible to serendipitously stumble across so much overwhelming beauty, and no one else is there to see it. It's almost as if it were a dream....

Later that night Made, who is a performer in the local Women's gamelan band, takes us to watch the performance in the middle of a thunderstorm in the indoor theater at the water palace. The dances and the music blow me away. We end up just barely getting into a restaurant for dinner (the restaurants, and almost everything else, close at 11...leaving the streets pretty quiet at night. Great place to catch up on sleep, which i will find out soon enough) and having an awesome "last meal" with Adam. I quietly try to hold myself together, but that is another story.

In the morning, Adam and I once again take off for a few hours on the bike to use our last few hours together, and his in the country, to explore. We end up getting lost on a road god knows where, that leads to a little lotus pond next to a big shed like structure with big locked double doors. A man who is cutting the grass comes over to tell us to wait, and that he will bring the key. "The key?"....A different m,an returns in his place, with a giant smile, and opens up the mystery doors to reveal.....an exhibition hall of masks! Masks from all around the world. He takes us, in his broken English and kind demeanor, on a tour of it all, which leads to another building that is full of puppets. Again, a beautiful and serendipitous few hours.

Then, after plane ticket panic, Adam departs. Then, as you do, Katie and I went for a lot of chocolate, and wine, and a massage. Pathetic I know, but it was nice......

But my tooth was really bothering me, as it had for the past few days. I resolved to get it looked at, if I could, the next day.

Later that night Katie and I decide, now that we are alone, it may be time to find the expats and travelers that are, most certainly, hiding out somewhere in Ubud (there was currently a Spirit Festival that Katie and I originally had a great deal of intent on attending, and later let those desires wane a little, though the idea was still there- but there had to be a whole lot of hippies, new age yogis, and the like, we had yet to really encounter in large masses). So we went out for pizza, and then to Flava lounge where rumour had it there was to be some live music. And who doesn't like live music, really.

We managed to arrive early enough to get the best seat in the house...the big bed like table at the back of the room with pillows and seating for at least six. People began filing in, and Katie and I looked on, intrigued by the fact that it seemed as if everyone already knew eachother. Some carried guitars, some their young children. Then a strange individual, dark skin, leering eyes, a white banded hat and a smirk walked behind the bar to light the shisha that sat on the counter (moments before I made a comment to Katie that it would be awesome if someone would spark it up and sit down to smoke it with us). So, soon enough, the suspicious character shook both our hands and joined us in the booth, offering up the delicious hookah to us. His name was Mark, as was a "noted" (self proclaimed) writer in the area (I think EVERYONE in Ubud that is not of local origin is a writer of some kind, or poet, or painter...etc). He had a lot to say, a lot of "advice" to give about life, and a lot of passes to make. We made friends with some other characters in the bar that had attended the spirit fest for the past few days, most clad in whtie yoga pants and a dazed smile of some variation. All very kind and interesting. All seemingly impressed by Mark.

BY the end of the night, I was not. On the contrary, it was evident that, heavy in his own regrets and bitterness, dealt by jugdeing strangers around him by making grandiose and rather insulting assumptions and comments. In the end, I left the bar early. A revealing night...and the music was great.

I woke up the next morning with one hell of a toothache. The words of my dentist were running in a constant stream in my head "Make sure you get those wisdom teeth out or byt he time you're 25 they are going to start reeking havoc on that mouth of yours". I thought 25 was a rough estimate. Apparently not.

So Made took me to the local dentist (doktor gigi). At the foot of the stairs of the office was a shower, and inside a girl was reciting her English lines for the day "Why do you like Fanta? Because Fanta is very sweet." The dentist, after checking me out and assuring me he couldn't pull any teeth that night even if he wanted to (thank god), told me I had a severe tooth infection, and gave me pills that were to last three days. Katie, later that night, wikipedia's the names of the medication I was unknowingly ingesting, and found that one was used for chemo patients and dog's with severe rabies (or something along those lines). Good.

The next day I had a renewed sense of adventure, determined to ignore the tooth pain, and with Adam gone it was time to take things into my own hands. So I resolved to take a motorbike myself and go exploring, hopefully making it to the beach. As Made's brother pulled out the maps and explained the area surrounding Ubud, and how to get to the beach, apprehensive Katie got a lesson on how to actually drive the bike. Cocky as I was from all the experience I have (riding my friend Adam's scooter a decade ago, and riding on the back of many...confidently....) I decide I dont' need a lesson, and make like an expert with a solid confident face, ready to face the road.

My gut was trying to tell me something. When I signed the paper, and the man renting us the bikes told us for the 3RD time that the bikes were expensive, and we should really go slow and be verty careful, it kept grumbling and churning. Stubbornly I shushed it, and hopped on, only to be faced with my own karmic repercussions.

About 45 seconds from Pramesti, at the main intersection in Ubud, I ate it into the temple wall.

Actually, it was a palace wall...and I did hit the standing lamp first and shattered the glass, which no doubt slowed me down a little, in all fairness. I wouldn't want to dramatize anything more than need be.

But if it weren't for that helmet, I would be eating through a straw, and probably contolling my wheelchair with one for the rest of my life.

Long story short, about 30 locals surrounded me after picking me up and putting me on the ground. I immediately discovered, upon putting my hand to the aching in my face, that my head above my left eye had swollen to the size of a very large grapefruit, and by the look in Katie's eyes, it wasn't the head trauma exaggerating my senses. Though my breathing was steady and I felt decently calm and under control, my mind was starting to imagine the worst, and I was scared.

Somehow, Made's father (the sweetest old man alive) found me, and came with me in the back of a pick up truck to the hospital, where they cleaned and poked at me for a little while, while Katie held it impresssively under control (god bless her). Someone even found my ipod in the street and tracked me all the way down to the hospital to give it back (god bless him too). Then Made arrived, to sort everything out (including lying behind my back to the police that I take care of her family when she comes to Canada so I wouldn't have to pay them off for not having a driver's license.

I hit soft tissue, which is why it was so inflamed. If I wasn't feeling nauseous (which I didn't think I was), then my skull might not be cracked and my brain not injured. I could go, but at the first sign of dizziness I was to return.

Yet again, I thanked my lucky stars for my somehow unimaginably blessed life.

Made made me lunch, and then dinner, and made an offering outside my doors to rid evil spirits, while Katie and I watched "Stranger Than Fiction" in bed on my ipod. She even went to the computer in the pouring rain to send an email to Adam to let him know what happened, and came back with ice cream and Pringles. Now if that isn't friendship, I don't know what is.

The next days kind of meld together, all involving carefully getting out of bed (I shredded most of the skin off my left thigh, and did a number on my knee and tow as well), avoiding looking in the mirror at the foot of the bed. Eating breakfast slowly. Eventually venturing out, sunglasses on, for lunch outside the room. Much time was spent playing Nintendo DS (I knew that would come in handy), reading, and listening to music. Breathing slowly. Doing everything....slow.

Strangely enough, my tooth didnt' seem like a big problem anymore. Best of all, the medication probably helped prevent infection elsewhere in my body.

....and then the healing......

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