Field Report 5:
Indonesia - January 10, 1999

By Jeff Bell
 

One of the things that seems to be falling out of this trip is a realization that there is great joy in enjoying special moments that are there in every day. Unfortunately, stress and other mental preoccupations can block appreciating those moments. Even traveling, where the only preoccupation is planning your day, moments get lost. Sometimes they get recaptured when you get a moment to reflect at the end of the day.

For example, getting down to the surfing beach at Uluwatu, the final 20 feet drops into a narrow cave-like grotto with beautiful sand at the bottom. The first 10 feet of descent there are cement steps built into the rock, but the last 10 feet is open air and a fixed bamboo ladder takes care of that last drop. Uluwatu is out in the country and there is general minimal use of concrete out there, which makes for a good moment contemplating what forces joined together to put these steps and ladder in place.

Coming out of the water that day, a lady selling T-shirts insisted on carrying my board for me. She balanced it on her head and hiked up the ladder and steps with ease. All the women carry things on their head here, and they're very skilled and can carry what appears to be very heavy loads, perfectly calmly balanced on their heads. No hands. It actually makes a lot of sense for their lifestyle.

I just spent a night and two days on Lombok, a nearby island about half the size of Bali. It was noticeably poorer than Bali, and for whatever reason, I noticed that angry or unsettled looks flash across the faces of the people there which you just don't see on Bali. Bali is Hindu, while the rest of Indonesia is Muslim, and I was in Lombok during Ramadan, during which time the religious folks don't eat during the day (for a month!) and in general, the whole place felt a little spooky at times, a bit unsafe, perhaps just because I couldn't get a fix on the more dodgy (an Aussie-adopted English phrase) folks there. By contrast, we had heard stories about parts of Java where people have been killed for 1000 rp (15 cents, the cost of a bowl of rice). Lombok isn't anywhere near that bad, but by extending the contrast between Bali and Lombok, you could imagine places as desperate as some of those places on Java.

My Lombok plan was to go to a remote beach where there was basically only a couple places to stay, but once I got out there, loaded down with my expensive camera, money, etc. etc., I had a look at the minimalist places I was thinking of staying at for a couple of nights and thought better and got over to the tourist side of the island. My driver told me that there had been and "incident" at that beach 3 days before and that maybe "security" wasn't so good.

Sengigi, the tourist area, was interesting, on the road to becoming a big deal, but not exactly my favorite. But while I was there, I met a couple of guys, one from Scotland, another from Holland, who had found the spot and for them, this was the place for them. A place to just stay for awhile and each had been there for a few months and knew everyone in town. It was interesting to see, curious to know if I'll run into a place like that for me somewhere down the line. Sengigi on Lombok wasn't it for me.

The next day I got a driver to take me to the tip of the island to Bangko-Bangko, where there is often good surf. The road went from two lane paved, to one lane paved, to dirt, to mud and sand two tire lane tracks. It took about 3 hours to get there, and our van got stuck a couple of times (and then wouldn't start without pushing it and popping the clutch), but we made it.

Bangko-Bangko it turns out is about half dozen huts on the beach and that's it. At one point when I walked ahead as our driver was scouting the proper turnoff alternatives, I spent about 30 minutes in a hut with a family. The hut was on stilts about 3 feet off the ground and open air on 2 sides, with just a pillow and a naked kid asleep on the floor. When he woke up to see me looking at him, he howled and was frightened for about 10 minutes while the rest of us had a laugh about that. The family didn't speak English, but we had fun just checking each other out. At one point I noticed there was a basket hanging on one wall with a hen sitting quietly inside with just it's head looking over. It looked like they were growing about a football field worth of corn. The men were rail thin, but strong, and the woman did most of the conversing, seeming to alternate between directing them and kidding around. The little boy eventually calmed down and spent the rest of the time staring at me. I forked over a mango I had and showed them my digital camera with the display that can be turned to face them so that they could see themselves and the frozen picture. This by the way was a sure-fire hit, even the men would get a kick out of it.

The beach at Bangko-Bangko was unbelieveably beautiful, with a mix of white sand, rocks, tidepools, shells and bits of coral. There was only one other person it sight, a fisherman who was hiding behind a rock with a fishing line in a little eddy pool where there was a big parrot fish swimming around. I've heard they are good eating.

Back in town on Lombok, my driver offered to have my stay over at his house, but after seeing the accommodations, I rather awkwardly had to get out of there. The house was a small concrete compound surrounded by barbed wire. The place was clean I noticed, but the concrete had that dirty look that reminded me of Mexico. I probably missed out on a very interesting experience, but I opted for Western creature comforts instead. I'm afraid he couldn't help but have his feelings hurt, it was not a great moment for me.

A couple more days here on Bali and it's back to SF. I've managed to catch a cold, probably from the shock of a single night in an air conditioned room. I wonder what it's going to be like to not be sweating from heat and humidity and something other than shorts and short sleeved shirt!

Bye!
Jeff
 

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