Southeast Asia 2011

Simon met with Yande the following day to scope out Yande's capabilities and get to know him. That day was pretty relaxing while Kate and I wandered around the small shops, trying on unique clothing and went yet again for another stroll to the countryside; It was hard to resist being right close outside town. It was mostly the same small countryside roads we had taken before, but it never got old. It was so nice to take an hour or so at most and cruise out to the rice fields and rolling hills. We also were on the search for a good place to practice Yoga and had seen a glimpse of a small sign right off the side of one of the country roads that looked appealing some trip before. We spent a while searching remembering it was close by, but couldn't find it for the life of us. A few wrong turns and then some back tracking brought us right back to where we started. It was a small sign right under some branches that was hard to see if you weren't really paying close attention. We pulled in to a gravel parking lot with a large rottwieler in a metal barred cage. It was an Ashram that we had found, or a religious retreat site. A beautiful statue with glimmering colors stood high among an archway. It was very quiet and we proceeded down a small stairway path not knowing if anyone was around. Large rice fields were directly to our left, and small beautiful waterways with greenery all around was to our right. We came to a very small gift shop just outside the temple where a couple locals were hanging out. We asked about the yoga courses and if we could take a look at where they took place. We took off our shoes as one does always before entering an ashram and walked under an small archway into the small courtyard.
This was the first ashram I had ever been too. Statues of serpents stood in small man made pools near stairs that lead up to the temple. Ahead of us was a large tiled building with no walls but supported by columns. It looked just like a place for meditation, or yoga classes and indeed that's exactly what it was for. Below us, a short walk away was another building quite similar but with a wood floor. It reminded me of something out of the movie "The Karate Kid", where old Chinese martial arts masters would teach their students, and the setting nearly matched perfectly. We walked down the stone stairs and over a small bridge that arched over a calm creek. A big stone carved alligator sat half submerged in the pool. It was green everywhere with old brick walls with inlets for small religious statues. I felt like we should have been wearing gi's or karate uniforms to be walking around the area, and especially standing on the giant square wooden floor. That or some kind of religious robes would have fit perfectly. We checked out the time schedules and planned to come back for a beginner course in yoga the following day at 5:00 pm.
I was excited to get back and see what had been done to Simon. Maybe Yande had already started on his tattoo, or maybe Simon may have decided that he was not the right person for the job. We met back up at the hotel and not many words were exchanged before Simon raised his shirt showing us the progress of his pursuit. A giant old fashioned pirate ship was roughly outlined over his left side of his torso covering nearly his whole rib cage. It was a rough sketch but you could easily tell the guy knew what he was doing. Kate and I were in shock, but impressed as well. It was massive but it looked liked it would flow perfectly into his other tattoo that wraps his shoulder and back. Simon was more than thrilled, and just as Kate, he felt confident in the person he had found. The rest of the day was spent relaxing and hanging around the hotel. Kate spent some quality time with her beloved Ipad as usual, and then headed up the street to watch some live music to top off the night.
The sun was shining bright through the glass wall of the dining patio as Kate and I sat and ate breakfast and drank our tea. Simon was getting ready, and as usual, we would often beat him to the outside world anyways. Monkeys were as lively as ever, pacing back and forth on the first story ledge right on the other side of the glass wall. Our whole hotel and courtyard sat on top of previous build buildings. It was almost a rooftop hotel per say and the dining area's one wall was a glass barrier, where you could look right down to the street. They would often go around the glass, hop to one of the pillars and tip over the small garbage can, just feet from us until one of the young hotel staff would chase them off. But the monkeys had an advantage. They could sit right behind the glass wall, on a ledge that we people would normally not wander. Not because we weren't as skilled in acrobatics or were unable to, but it would be too dangerous, and way to much of a hassle just to chase something you couldn't catch. Sometimes the staff would lean over with a sling shot aiming right down the ledge, which left the monkey fleeing while making quite the scene. It would only be a matter of minutes when the monkey would return, but this time it wasn't just to raid the garbage can. Kate and I notice the monkey leaping to the column base which held up the roof, and eyeing some nearby guys that were having breakfast as well. The monkey was maybe ten feet from us, and only three or so from their table. Without warning the monkey leaped to their table grabbing fruit, and tipping things over. It jumped around the table like a table dancer until a staff member ran over quickly wanting to toss the nuisance off the edge. It frightened the diners, but we laughed hysterically. They soon found it funny, but it obviously took a little more time. The staff member shot at it with his man made slingshot chasing it down the ledge, but it just sat there at the end, still just on the other side of the glass and that's where both the monkey and the staff member were able to let one another know their frustration. The guy walked over and leaned down, slapping the glass right in front of the monkey; it didn't take long for the monkey to have enough. The hairy little creature took lunged towards the glass with both arms up and mouth open as trying to bite the guy but instead it sat there making loud noises and laying a long big wet one on the glass instead. The took turns hitting the glass, and eyeing each other down. If the glass hadn't been there, they would be at each other's necks. We foreigners find it funny because it's so rare for us to even see monkeys that it becomes so entertaining, but for the locals, it's annoying. They merely are the pests of the jungle. They spend their time harassing people and their belonging, and causing more work for the people that they already have. I completely understand the people's frustration, but it's still hard not to laugh at such a site.
Simon had told me about Yandes house and I quickly found out this was where he was going to be getting tattooed. I figured it was going to be done in a shop but it wasn't. He had told me of how crazy it was and how it was like he was going to be tattooed "on some guys patio, with pigs and chickens running around". It sounded pretty awesome to me; I mean if the work is sterile and safe and he is happy with the artwork, which he obviously was, then it couldn't be better being tattooed somewhere like that! His first session was in the early afternoon and not only did he, but I wanted to come check out the location and meet Yande. We cruised on our motorbike just out of town where all these small communities of houses sat together in groups on each side of the street. Two monkeys swung chained to a small tree just outside his house. This was not a place I would have expected to get tattooed, but it was so amazing. Chickens roamed a small dirt area and pigs lied around in their pens off in a pasture. Clothes were hanging on lines to dry and a few children played kicking around a ball yelling and laughing. Yande came out to greet us smiling shaking Simon's hand and then mine introducing himself in broken English. He had tattoos scattered on his legs, arms, neck, and even face but they weren't overdone. He even had a small tattoo right next to one eye and wore a rasta hat to hold up his long hear. He wore board shorts and a tee-shirt, and was never wearing shoes. His house was quite nice really; extremely clean tiled floors with a large living area and smaller rooms. He had a nice computer with large speakers that always played soothing local music or reggae and a bongo drum sitting next to a couch. The area where Simon was to be tattooed was on the patio just outside, which was basically his living area extended outside, though covered. He offered us tea and coffee and his wife brought it over smiling from a small shack which served as their kitchen. He was so nice and relaxed smoking a cigarette with Simon and we all sat, speaking gently about Simon's soon-to-be tattoo. We helped Yande pull his tattooing bed from his room where he stored all his equipment out to the patio, and he slowly got his equipment ready. He was in no rush, and made it quite clear that we all "work slowly", taking a few more cigarette an tea breaks before even starting. He made a few more lines on Simon's chest and then it was time to start. For anyone who doesn't know, getting tattooed on your side of your chest is one of the most painful areas. The skin is thin and bone is all over directly underneath. The needles were taken out of brand new packages and it seemed the whole process seemed quite safe and sterile to me. The buzzing started and the needle was put to the skin. Simon took it remarkably well, and I watched while drinking a beer close by in which his wife went to go get for Simon and I both from the "store". They were amazing people, so friendly and hospitable. I stayed there for a few hours, becoming tired from the repeating buzzing sound and nearly no talking, but fortunately many breaks were taken often, which rejuvenated myself, Simon, and I am sure Yande!
I parted with Simon and Yande knowing that Simon wouldn't be able to join Kate and I for Yoga. His session was going to last beyond 5:00 pm but he was fine with it. Kate and I got ready for our yoga and headed out of town. We had trouble finding it again which actually caused us to be late but it all worked out. The instructor was this middle aged lady who was fit and very pretty. She had some kind of a foreign, western accent, and obviously wasn't a native. It was the perfect place for yoga - so calm and quiet. We learned all kinds of stretches and exercises and it took no time at all for me to be dripping sweat. Kate informed me that this was no "beginner" yoga class. It was actually fairly tough putting weight and stretching both arms and legs for extended periods of time. My arms started shacking and I let up from time to time to take a break. Some people simply gave up. We sat cross legged and did "ohm chanting". This was by far my favorite part. Everyone's calm humming in sync became a loud but soothing roar that almost echoed from within the room and back out the open walled room to the jungle-like countryside. One loud extended chant ended, and then we stopped just briefly before starting another chant quietly all together, gradually getting louder. Everyone's eyes were closed and it just felt right. The sound made one drift away, and start wobbling subtly as if getting tired. We did more stretches and exercises and then as it became dark we ended yet again with more ohm chanting and then we lied on our backs with our eyes closed for a while, just breathing the air, and relaxing.
It was a great experience - something I had never experienced before. I am sure I will be buying meditation music and ohm chanting discs when I return home. It actually brought me back to my days of martial arts. It had me leaving wishing I would have continued with them and insisting I get back into it. I dreamed of being a monk highly trained in martial arts; someone so in tuned with spirituality and their body and soul who lives such a simple, calm but highly disciplined life . As we left the sun was setting quickly, casting a beautiful array of colors throughout the sky and over the watery rice fields just outside the ashram. Sweaty, tired, and refreshed, we headed back to town and the air had never felt so good...

We pulled into the parking lot of "Coco Mart", an extremely clean and modern grocery/apparel store right in the middle of Ubud and unloaded from our passenger van. The skies were gray and it felt slightly cooler which I was grateful for by all means. Kate, Simon and I strolled around for a bit trying to find a place to stay, but unfortunately the first couple were not appealing at all. With our bags over our shoulders, we decided the best idea would be to rent a scooter, or two, and have Kate relax somewhere and watch the bags while Simon and I went on the hostel hunt. We found a fairly nice place to stay which was seated right next to the Monkey Forest, only about a thirty second walk or so. To get there was extremely easy once you have dodged the small furry human-like animals in and around the roads. From the outside it looked quite nice, and the inside was not too bad at all. A decently kept courtyard sat between the rooms and dining patio and a nice pool which was quite appealing was just outside the rooms' doors. Monkeys roamed the rooftops, and even invaded the dining area at times. The little rascals would just walk the telephone lines from across the street literally connecting the monkey forest to our hostel.
The first day was spent cruising around on our motorbikes. It didn't take long to realize how small and beautiful Ubud was. The small town sat right at the edge of the countryside and took only minutes to go from the small streets with petite, tourist shops and cafes to rice fields and giant trees amidst rolling hills. It was bliss, and it showed the true Balinese culture. It was the evening and the sun was starting to go down but we just kept going straight, getting more and more into the countryside. We didn't really know where we were going, but it didn't matter, we were seeing so much, so easily and all on our own. We all instantly fell in love with Ubud. We got to know the streets quite well considering that the main area consisted of an oval formation that took roughly ten minutes or so to complete. It was easy to navigate and so welcoming. That evening was spent exploring a few bars. It was pretty laid back, and we really just wanted to see what was close by around our hostel. We had a few drinks, listened to live music and checked out the scene. It was nothing like Kuta, but it was laid back fun, with many small pubs with live bands performing, and even though it was the off season, some places had quite a few people in them. It was perfect really. Kate was quite interested in massage school, learning the ropes of the Balinese massage, and other styles; in fact it nearly was her main reason coming to Bali. While out and about in the countryside just outside Ubud, we were fortunate to find someone that Kate believed would be the perfect person. A beautiful mid aged Asian lady, who spoke very sincerely, deeply, and informatively. Kate felt that she found exactly what she was looking for and she planned to have a first session the following day,
The next day was a big day for Ubud. It was the last cremation ceremony of the year. It is a public event, marching the bodies inside giant animals that looked like large pinatas (pronounced Pin Ya Tas, you know, the things you bash at parties for candy), and then after arriving to the final destination words are spoken and oils and gifts are given, they are set ablaze in front of anyone wishing to witness it. I had to take Kate up to her massage session and was going to meet Simon back for the ceremony. Everything was going perfectly fine until I was rushing on my way back to meet with Simon, realizing the ceremony had already begun. I was late, and (not knowing it mattered) I wasn't wearing a helmet either. Lots of people weren't wearing helmets, but apparently I stood out. I came out of the countryside and to the first main intersection, right where the police sit at a corner and watch for either foreigners who look like they have no idea what they are doing or where they are going, or people simply breaking the law. I was doing both. I was a bit nervous because of the scooters flying everywhere, and despite the easy navigation, it was still my second time or so going through this intersection. That's not the only thing that got me though, I looked a bit confused with my bright white Electric glasses and tank top, white skin, and well, no helmet. I turned left, right where I needed to go, and got nowhere. I was instantly whistled down by an officer. I was alone and nervous. Kate was getting a message and Simon was waiting for me, or perhaps witnessing something that shouldn't be missed. He had me park my motorbike and stand aside, instantly asking where abouts I was from, in harsh English. His expressions were absent in every way. I explained I was unaware that you needed to wear a helmet, and pointed out many people, even other obvious travelers who were cruising around without one. It didn't just stop there though. An international drivers license must also be obtained and carried when driving. Well this was just shitty now. I didn't even know if I was going to be able to drive anymore, and we were going to have our scooters for quite some time. He simply said wait here, as he used his radio. Now my heart was racing. Who was I going to call? HOW was I going to call? My phone for emergencies was in my backpack, back at our hostel. I didn't know what was going on, but my acting stupid and innocent didn't make his straight change even the slightest degree. I was ordered to step inside the small square booth, something almost identical to an over sized phone booth, and there I was to speak with another officer. He acted to same way, and it started to irritate me. There was no sympathy whatsoever, and it was then I was faced with two options. "Pay now, all clear, or justice" the officer stated. I had to ask again how much it was and confirm that if I pay now, everything is good to go. Obviously I wasn't taking the"justice" option. What a pain in the ass, and such a joke. I payed the 150,000 Rupiah, and off I was, just hoping that everything was clear, and that when I would be leaving the country, someone wouldn't be after my ass for debts or services I didn't owe.
I soon later found out by a local that they ripped me off, and that you have to "bargain with them". He told me that I needed to wear a helmet, but also "James Bond" the streets, avoiding any police, because they are just out for money, not really law enforcement. What a corrupt society. I have to say I am fortunate to live somewhere where that isn't a problem, and it's unfortunate that societies like that are almost forced to act like that, to live, perhaps to give them even the slightest chance to live half as descent as a western person. I darted around the streets heading back to to hotel to find Simon. Streets were closed off and police were everywhere. I took a detour to get back on the street I needed to and there was Simon standing with his Surong around his waist on the corner, waiting for the cremation parade. I couldn't just pull over and park here, and another officer made it quite clear. Not only that, I couldn't really explain, or say much whatsoever to Simon as I was ordered to keep moving. I yelled that I would be back in just a bit after I dropped my motorbike off. I wasn't wanting to drive anywhere or anytime soon by this point. The police were after my ass, and it felt like every second I was driving they were watching me. I returned to the hotel and walked quickly passed the Monkey Forest and up the hill to one of the main streets. People of all types flooded the streets; it was completely packed. I couldn't find Simon anywhere. He wasn't at the place I last saw him, and wasn't in sight either. I could hear the music coming from up the street. Loud chants and cymbals and drums filled the distant air. It was the cremation parade. Obviously this was just as big as it was made up to be. Everyone in the town must had been attending this. I stood and watched as multiple local men carried the bodies in their "tombs" on a large criss-crossed bamboo platforms. It must have taken forty men or so to carry each tomb. They were in shapes of dragons and other animals and would stop and set down the tomb while loud bells, and drums from the people directly behind would play loudly. They then would yell some words, pick up the giant platform, and start running down the street, but just for a short ways, and would put it down again. I remember one tomb having a picture of a young girl on the back of it. It was a small black and white picture, and could have been either the younger girl, or possibly the mother as it was a family that died for whatever reason. Atop one tomb a high priest sat, I presume it was possible the one that gave words and drizzled oils and other ingredients over the bodies before they burned, but unfortunately I missed that part. The ceremony carried on down the street but it was time for me to return and pick up Kate. They were heading towards the monkey forest and actually ascended up a hill into the actual grounds of the forest. I later would realize what all happened up on that hill, but for the time being, I needed to go get Kate. I was late yet again, trying to get a glimpse as much as I could of the ceremony, but I was sure by this time Kate was sitting, waiting. I was also nervous to get back on the scooter, but I had no idea where Simon was and had to get Kate, so I threw on my helmet and snuck through a side street the local told me about to avoid the police, quite possibly the same police because I was going to have to pass through the same exact intersection.
Kate was just finishing up, which was great. Her and Amy (Her massage instructor) talked about spirituality, massaging and meditation for a while, which just so happened to fill in the time I was late, but by accident, in my favor! I told her what happened, and still not having a clue where Simon was, just decided to head back to the hotel and wait patiently for him to arrive. He told us that he actually witnessed the burning atop the Monkey Forest hill. I was a bit jealous I wasn't able to see it, but thankfully he got plenty of pictures. I was wondering what they were doing marching to the forest hill, and now I knew. This was the first time I also actually found out they did in fact burn the bodies in what seemed to be a giant bon fire. I only saw the pictures, but from Simon's explanation it sounded quite thrilling, and not really sad at all to the locals. I wish I could have witnessed it first hand but at least I saw the parade.
That evening we decided to explore the monkey forest; a monkey haven seated within a lush jungle park. It was directly across from our hotel, and we were dodging monkeys just getting to the entrance. The scenery was beautiful. Monkeys were everywhere, grabbing peoples belongings and picking bugs from one another. There were walkways and arched bridges covered in light moss over small canyons that looked ancient with vines and giant leaves abundant in every direction. Serpent heads welcomed and dismissed each person who passed through the bridges. It was something out of Indiana Jones; a place that looked like it was just recently discovered and now well kept, but still holding on to it's beautiful ambiance of an aged magical place. In reality, we all agreed it wasn't too old, but it sure looked old. Some monkeys ignored us while others we ignored hoping to relieve the uneasy feeling of the little guys staring at us, more than likely ready to take something of ours, and if we were to reject, they would climb up ones arm. It didn't happen to us, but it easily could have. I believe they may have tried to something of Kate's or Simons' but they made a pretty lousy attempt, giving up quickly. Others were less fortunate being constantly harassed... On our way out we walked through the area that the ceremony ended at. The exact site that Simon watched bodies inside I presume paper mache dragon heads burn to the ground. Smoke was still pouring from the piles of ash; remnants of offerings and tombs that had been carefully crafted , just to be burned to the ground. There were also small headstones, and tombs on the ground, and across the walkway was a gathering of locals with all kinds of offerings. It was quite intriguing, and really gave me an insight as to how other cultures deal with the deceased and how they perceive death and afterlife.
The evening ended again at the pubs. Kate was tired but Simon and I headed back up the street to a small pub we had found the previous evening. Just as Kate was on a mission to learn about massaging, Simon was on the lookout for good local tattoo artists. We had become friendly with the locals that worked at the bar and the bartender knew a guy, a local artist who he thought could do the work Simon was after. His name was Yande, and he lived just outside the main town of Ubud, on the way to the countryside. He was a friend of the bartender and others working there, and we saw some of the work he had done which was on display. A live reggae band was playing and we decided to get the drink of the night; eight shots that when poured from one mixer becomes an array of colors that blend together like a rainbow. It was ridiculously cheap for eight shots, but we soon found out they weren't all that strong. In fact, speaking for myself, I was barely buzzed after the last one, and we didn't waste a whole lot of time putting them down. The bartender told Simon to come back mid day the next day, and he would have Yande show up, and that he would likely take Simon to his place, where he does his tattooing. It was a deal and in the next couple days, Simon would soon find himself laying outside Yandes house on a bed being tattooed by one of the better artists me and him both have ever seen...

Seminyak was a place with absolutely gorgeous beaches with very nice restaurants and cafes bordering the sand and they were much fancier and higher class than we had seen thus far. Many of them also sat amongst extremely green grass that almost seemed a bit out of place but it was so nice to see well kept, green grass, especially right on the beach. It soon appeared to us that this was probably the best thing about that particular town, and aside from that, there really wasn't much. We decided to spend a little more on what we first thought, after our first impression was damn near a mansion style hotel, and we felt quite special. I still think it was quite a nice place, but we all had our opinions about it...
We arrived in the afternoon and after finding our rooms, and getting comfortable we pulled out our laundry which was nicely folded and smelled amazing, but of course we were all missing pieces. Shirts here, shorts there, underwear, bras, it just didn't matter, each of us were missing at least one or two pieces and for me, one of my pieces were my favorite shorts and what I had been wearing most the trip! We made a call to see if they had our cloths and sure enough they did, but they certainly weren't able to bring them to us. We all decided who was going to go get our fresh, clean clothes and Jen and Simon were off back to where we came from, roughly a 45 minute scooter ride. Kate and I lounged in the pool, drinking a beer or two, and enjoying the sun. We decided to go small bar rather close to our hotel that evening which hosted live music and looked quite nice. We drank beers and "Arak Attacks" which is a drink made with Bali's favorite liquor/whine style alcohol "Arak". Simon and Jen danced the night away, and Kate and I hung back at the table, though I had a few moments of dancing myself. It was kind of a typical night out, but was a blast by all means.
The next day was a lounge day, and Simon and I were more than content with the matter because we were going well over our accommodation budget choosing this hotel in the first place. We figured we could live like kings for a couple night, I mean why not? And plus, we weren't going to be with these ladies for too much longer anyway, or so we thought.... The day was spent swimming, laying in the sun and playing pool as the girls went to go get manicures and pedicures since the first couple attempts were mere failures. Simon and I also spend a while cruising back on our motorbike to Kuta, where we knew we could find an easy place to book a rafting tour which we had decided on doing. We all met back up in the evening and Simon and I told the girls what the plan was regarding rafting. We were catch the bus which would pick us up at our hotel the next morning at 8:30 am for nearly a full day adventure on the rapids. We still had one more night to make the best of in Seminyak though and wanted to go out on a limb with this one. It was to the "ladyboy" district we were to go for this nice outing, but before that, Simon and I received a lovely makeup makeover from Kate leaving me with dark, long eyelashes and Simon with bold, striking eyes. I never have minded the times when I have had mascara put on me for whatever reason; it usually just makes girls even more jealous of my eyelashes which are already ridiculously long! After being all done-up by the lovely ladies, we grabbed a taxi and cruised over to the "gay" district. Simon and I got quite the attention and were getting talked to by many of the locals, especially the guys that worked at the clubs. The first bar / club we were at we sat drinking our drinks and being spectators to a drag show which was quite interesting, but fun as well. Drag queens "sang" their hearts out to familiar songs and danced upon tables and small stages. One particular guy who worked there, with styled hair that is something you see in a magazine sure took the liking to me, and flirted with me throughout the short time we stayed there. On the way out we said goodbye, and he begged me to give him a kiss on the cheek, and I was quite hesitant, but after a few drinks, and knowing it was in good fun, I gave in, telling him that it's a quick peck! He turned at the last second, just barely touching I lips. I don't really know what to say about what happened, but it was all in good fun, and we laughed and went on our way. I am comfortable with my sexuality enough to know it didn't matter, and I am sure it made his night, so whatever! We then wandered over to another place that seemed more lively, with an outside area as well. It was still fairly early, so nothing was too extremely busy, but we figured we would have yet some more drinks and see how things turned out at the new place. Soon dancers took to an outside stage, just a little ways from the couch we were enjoying. We all sat and watched the dancers, and then one of them stood off the stage and started walking towards the outside crowd, towards us. It seemed as if the dressed up person with the microphone was headed towards our table, and more specifically, towards me. His eyes were right on me, and sure enough, he straddled me on the couch in front of everyone and sang the night away, while I was laughing my ass off, beer in-hand. I still wonder if this was something Simon or one of the girls planned out, but I am not positive. We didn't stay too long, venturing around to find another place, but nothing looked all that appealing. We decided it was time to call it a night, all of us slightly flustered due to some issues and we went back home. It was an interesting night, and ended sort of poorly, but it was still fun.
The next morning we packed our stuff quickly noting that we were quite late for our bus. We were also checking out that same day, planning to leave our bags at the hotel and come pick them up after our rafting adventure was over. To our surprise, we weren't the only people taking this bus, and there stood irritated looking Asians with their arms crossed wandering around outside the bus as if quite distressed. We scurried around rushing to get checked out and boarded the bus, however we really weren't that late anyways, so we didn't feel all that bad. Along with being late for the bus, we hadn't taken into account that we were all hungry, and the bus was not going to stop for us late white people to have breakfast somewhere along the way either. Fortunately, we were able to stop at a small convenient store, where sour cream 'n onion Pringles, and small packaged bread buns filled with random interesting fillings were our breakfast. I must not forget to mention the peanut m&m's that also helped feed our morning hunger. After a decently lengthy bus ride through the city and out in the country, we descended down the hills to a beautiful area filled with giant jungle trees and giant grassy fields. We were obviously in a canyon amidst the jungle, and had arrived at the start point of our adventure. More small groups of people came down the hills and we all waited patiently in an open walled building where we suited up in our giant red life jackets and helmets and put our valuables in waterproof bags. We met our guide and us four and himself took a short walk through the grass fields and down to the water. After a brief safety meeting and instructional demonstration, and a few pictures, we started down the river. It was a fairly small river, nothing compared to the few rapids I had personally rafted before, but it was beautiful. We took turns bumping into other raft boats and splashing fellow rafters with water. It was a rough ride at times, bumping into walls and hitting rocks, but it wasn't because of our guide, or us, but rather it was a strategic way the common way of navigating the waters. On many occasions we had to lean far back, dodging low hanging branches, as if playing limbo. Locals were scattered about along the banks of the water, near small huts which they lived. Many were fetching water, or burning brush, or doing some sort of work. These were people that lived alone, and as far as it looked, they were remote village people. It reminded me of the tribes people in South America, living in their own world, something that most westerners only experience in magazine articles or photos online.
There were waterfalls everywhere. Large ones, and also small ones that acted more of an extremely condensed heavy rainfall, which we floated directly under, and following more often than not, into the rock walls where the water poured from. Halfway along our journey we took a small break. A small stand stood on the bank where beer and water was available, and a waterfall was close by. This was also the guides smoke break station, along with the other guides and any other people who wished to have a cigarette. After a few more pictures and a small cloud of smoke dissipating into the air it was back on the boat. Of course this was done with minor problems. Jen, who had been the frantic one of the trip being quite nervous but excited about this "white water rafting" adventure, lost control of her bright white sandal while getting back into the raft and it quickly started to drift away. Luckily I was downstream from the raft and quickly lunged for it, saving her beautiful flip flop, which I am sure would have been a big problem! The last third or so of our trip was calm and quiet. We drifted fairly slowly through open fields surrounded by jungle walls, and it was nice not having to hang on constantly, playing pinball off the rock walls. We closed in to the docking station where locals took care of our gear and next was a hike back up the hill. It was a steep and narrow old rock stairway leading up the jungle cliffs we had just rafted through. My first thought was just how exhausting it was going to be, but I quickly tried to change my pessimistic views as we watched the locals deflate our rafts and pack our gear along with the wet heavy rafts themselves atop their head and on their shoulders right behind us up the same steep old stairs we were walking empty handed.
At the top we were able to shower and were treated to an all-you-can-eat Asian buffet at a lookout that edged over the steep green hills. The food wasn't amazing, but the beauty of the area more than made up for it. It was relaxing, and so nice. After our meal we hopped back on the bus and headed back to our hotel to grab our bags and depart with Jen and Kate, or maybe just Jen, and only temporarily... Jen started a six day program in the next couple of days and had to go her own way. Simon and I wanted to head to Ubud, the cultural center and heart of Bali, and Kate just didn't really have any specific plans. Kate asked if we would mind her if she kept traveling with us, and we obviously had no problem with it whatsoever. They had been so much fun and so amazing to travel with, and we didn't want to just make Kate go her own way. After all, Ubud was in her mind as well, so it just made since; the puzzle pieces fit. We sadly said goodbye to Jen while she flagged down a taxi, giving our hugs, not realizing that we would meet right back up and quite soon...
Kate, Simon and I flagged down a taxi of our own, heading back to Kuta just for that night to get us a bit closer to Ubud and to find a much cheaper hostel. We found it alright, and it just so happened to be right across the street from our very first place we stayed. Cheaper wasn't really the word; we found nearly a shit hole, and it was the first real cheap place Kate had stayed thus far. I am sure the cockroaches welcomed Kate warmly to our world. Simon and I didn't mind too much. We had just spent way too much staying in our last place to care really and this is more of what we envisioned our accommodations to be like for the majority of our trip anyways. I have to be honest though, it was also the worst place we had stayed so far on the trip as well but we needed to get use to is anyways. It could still be worse though, much worse, and I am sure it just may get there some time along the beaten path. We were now budget travelers, well that's what we thought...

The next morning we packed our bags, and all four of us ventured to the most southern tip of Bali to a small quiet village called Uluwatu. Realistically, it wasn't even a village, but had a few very nice bungalows to stay at, and small open walled bars that were hoisted by stilts in the sand directly on the beach. This was finally a place to relax and just enjoy the scenery. Our bungalow was a small beautiful wooden cabin like hut that almost had the feel of a very fancy, large tree house. There were about eight of them surrounded by lush green grass and an infinity pool. It was quite nice and we felt right at home. I had noticed myself started to get a dry cough that morning, along with a slight difficulty in breathing. We were all so sweaty from the bike ride the night before, and I remembered the drastic change in temperature on the ride home in the air conditioned van and wondered if maybe that was what caused my cough. Simon figured that may have been the problem and strived to stay away from the AC whenever possible, but it was so hard for me considering the buckets of sweat that would constantly be pouring out of my body.
After settling in to our new home, we walked down the dry desolate rocky hill passing large livestock within arms reach on our way down to the beach. It was so calm and quiet compared to Kuta with not even that many people around. The beach was beautiful but unfortunately we realized that the sand only ran so far until it was pure coral and rocks and unless it was high tide, real high tide, if you were in water, you were also in coral which didn't feel so great on the feet. We played cards, sat by the pool and relaxed. We absolutely loved our place, and aside from going to the beach, there really wasn't much to do other than hanging out at the bungalow, which was quite fine with almost all of us. My cough started to get worse and my breathing became even more constricted. This wasn't the first time I had felt like this in my life, but it did seem slightly different, and slightly worse than normal. That night was hell. I slept maybe one hour, coughing, wheezing, and sweating my ass off. I could only lay on my back or I would start wheezing, but I couldn't fall asleep on my back. There was no good way around it, and I layed there waiting for the sun to come up, just waiting to get the hell out of bed despite wanting to sleep so extremely bad.
That next day we all lounged around and Simon had enough of it. He was determined to go surfing and went by himself as we lounged and I coughed and hacked junk up from my lungs. I was pretty much out of commission at this point running out of breath from simply walking through the grass lawn from the pool to our little hut. That day was quite boring, but relaxing at the same time and I needed it. That night Kate gave me some sleep meds that knocked my ass out, but also got me quite loopy. I didn't even remember the conversation I had with her as she came down, worried about me as I was coughing like crazy and struggling for air in the middle of the night. I thought I had slept well, and felt like I had also, but apparently they heard me coughing all night. The girls had a plan for me, and that was to take me to the hospital. Up to this point I had been quite stubborn but I had finally realized the condition in which I was in, and knew inside that I wanted, and needed anything that would help me to breath better. We arranged for a taxi to run us back to Kuta where I would get fixed up at a hospital chosen by the ladies. They weren't however going to make this trip a waste of their day so they picked a place that also had beauty services that catered to woman so that the time would be well spent. Simon however was just along for the ride. It was a nice hospital. Clean, cool, big, and very professional. I filled out my paperwork with Jen over my shoulder and off to the "emergency"room I went. Jen and Kate would barely let me speak a word, making damn sure the doctor knew of my condition, and not the sugar coated explanation I would give them. This was serious biz, and I was going to get fixed. I soon was hooked up to oxygen, and I could instantly breath again. I laid alone on the hospital bed as they monitored my oxygen level. It rose quickly, nearly instantly after the oxygen tubes were placed around my head and into my nostrils. The girls and Simon waited outside until they had a good idea of my time in the hospital and what was going on, before rushing off to get facials and other work done.
It was now time for x rays in order to see if I had any kind of respiratory infection. The nurses hooked up my oxygen "mask" to a portable tank and at first I thought I was going to have to actually walk around with this thing like a ninety year old man but I lucked out. I was instead WHEELED out on the bed the the tank strapped to the side. Out I came and here the audience was, Kate, Jen, and Simon, and JUST out of site of the rest of the waiting patients. "Well hey old man" Simon said as I was laughing in slight embarrassment getting strolled to the dark room. This started to feel a little too much, but I knew it would be worth it. The oxygen alone was worth it, allowing me to actually breath for once. The X rays came back and it was explained to Jen, Kate and I that I had no infection. I was ordered to stay, now hooked up to a nebulizer for an hour or so as they determined if I would have to stay over night, depending on my oxygen levels. Kate and Jen realized this was the time to go have fun since I was destined to a hospital bed for a while. There was no way I was staying over night in the hospital though, and I didn't care how nice it was or how amazing the cool air felt, I wasn't doing it. Simon came in and talked to me for a while, but after I was told that I couldn't talk, Simon got bored of telling me jokes and wandered back out to the waiting room.
It felt so good being able to breath, but I was anxious to hear the judgement. I would constantly look back hoping to see 95 or 97 on the screen and not 89 or 90, showing that my levels were rising, but they fluctuated quite a lot. The nurse would come in and check on me time to time noting my levels and as soon as I would see the curtain move i would look back just hoping to god it would be at a high point. "Still kind of low" she murmered, and I quickly assured her that it was just at 96 a few seconds ago! She was just coming it at the wrong time damnit, it wasn't fair! An hour passed quite slowly and the doctor had me get up and walk two flights of stairs so see how I was feeling. I felt much better but also realized that oxygen and a nebulizer were temporary fixes, relief systems really. He prescribed me three kinds of medications and after a two hundred and twenty something dollar bill, which was so extremely low for the care I received and things I had done, we were out the door, and back into the heat. Jen and Kate were constantly asking how I was doing, it was quite sweet. They had been so concerned for me the whole time. I started my medication right away and started to feel the effect that night.
I woke up feeling much better, but Jen ordered me to lay low for the day yet again. We hadn't planned much for the day anyways so it wasn't a big deal, and I was content on relaxing by the pool. The next day was bliss. I felt amazingly better being able to actually breath, and starting to cough up all the junk that had taken over my inner torso the last few days. I was so happy and Jen and Kate were more than relieved. We wanted to do something, and I convinced them that I was fine now, walking around, feeling great. We figured we wanted to go a little into the small town just up the hills to explore and rented scooters. It was Kate and I and Simon and Jen. Of course it was hard finding scooters being at such a small secluded area with not many scooters, and everyone wanting them in order to go anywhere, and they were nearly running on fumes when we got them as usual. Luckily just right down the street a small old lady and a few ruffed up animals sat under the shade advertising "Petrol" which always came in Absolute Vodka bottles which I am sure had been drank, and then refilled with gasoline. This is how you buy gas here when there is no gas station close by, which is VERY often. Absolute bottles mean gasoline here, and they sit stacked aside one another all over the streets and little carts with a funnel for the "attendant" to transfer the fuel to the scooter. I still wonder where all the Absolute vodka goes though because I haven't seen any actual vodka by that brand anywhere, not even at restaurants or clubs but there sure are tons of the half gallon bottles full of fuel!
We cruised around the small streets up and down the hills and explored the peninsula eating amazing Thai food at a small, nice cafe along the way. We decided to go see a temple that sat atop giant cliffs high above the water. We were ordered to wear Surongs (big dress like things that cover your bottom half), and were given a guide, not by choice in which we eventually found out we didn't need one, and would have been better off without.... It wasn't the most excited temple I had seen before by any means, and I have to say the best part of it was seeing a monkey hang by a limb miles above the ocean. He must have been a monkey of great braveness, perhaps a leader monkey. After attempting to harass some walking tourists just a few feet from us, the guide swatted at him with a bamboo stick, which angered the monkey even more. A quick strike back at the tour guide just as an act back, and over the edge he leaped. I had thought for sure the monkey just wanted to get the last laugh before committing suicide. Perhaps the suicide mission was planned, and one last harass attack at the annoying tourists walking through his home, and a strike at the guide he had to see everyday was the last planned enjoyment before he would leap to his death. We all looked over the edge to find the furry brown human-like animal hanging on a small thin limb, and quite comfortably it looked. Far below waves crashed against rocks and white tides washed over the sandy cove. I couldn't believe my eyes. I knew how well monkeys were able to leap from trees, and scale even the gnarliest obstacles, but it was the notion of fear! Where was the fear in this animal? It was nerve racking just looking over the edge, and here this small critter was hanging like it was nothing, probably laughing at us. It was quite incredible to know that these animals must have throughout the years of their existence, shedded the fear of heights in even the most extreme conditions. If I could be any animal, I just may choose to be a monkey. Perhaps if reincarnation is true, maybe I will be fortunate enough to be one of their kind in the future. Even if they are picking bugs from one anothers fur, they always seem to be having so much fun!
After telling our guide we were not paying as much as requested for the "tour", and after a quick snarl, we were back on the road. It was now time for me to get my first massage. Everyone else had received massages somewhere along the way of our trip, and wanted to get another, and I was more than ready for one by this point. We stopped at a small shop on our way back home right on the side on the street and all four of us gave it the go. Kate and Jen in one room, and Simon and I in another. Simon and I were given each a small thin plastic bag the size and durability of a small fold-over sandwich baggie containing speedo-like nearly see through black mesh style "underwear". Boy was this interesting. An hour later I had felt like I had been touched and rubbed all over and nearly beaten up. I have to say though, it was quite nice, and relaxing as well and afterward, we were treated to extremely hot, mind tea which was very nice, despite being a bit too hot.
Our last nights stay in Uluwatu was a night i'll never forget. We packed our blankets, Simon's small speakers, our mp3 player, some beers and some liquor and headed down to the beach. Us four spent the night listening to reggae and mellow acoustic music and layed on the sand, looking at the stars. We talked, and waded out to the water and even were accompanied by a cute stray dog for a while which found it's comfort zone right in the middle of us on the blanket, laying beside Simon. It was one of the first times we all sat together and became close, getting to know each other well. It was now time to move on yet again, saying goodbye to our much loved accommodation "Flowerbud Bungalows" and on our way out we picked up our laundry that we had left the day prior and headed off. Next stop, Seminyak, Bali.

Kuta quickly became quite tiring as cars and scooters raced around the small streets and drunk Australians hoarded the sidewalks arm in arm. I realized that this place was a place to party, but not much else. It lacked the true Balinese culture a bit and seemed to be simply the touristy area. We ended up staying five nights or so but really just hung around on the beaches, walked the busy streets, and sat at pubs and restaurants. I spent much time in the pool, trying to escape some of the heat and humidity that I was struggling with a bit as I was attempting to adjust to a constant flow of sweat running down my face every minute of the day. Despite the harsh annoyance of me being the one who sweats buckets once I step outside, I started to actually not care much. I was going to be dripping sweat for nine weeks every single day and that was that.
There was one very memorable night in good ol' Kuta that was nothing short of a blast and that started out on the beach, Simon and I, watching the sunset, drinking beers, and swimming in the Indian Ocean. It was that Saturday evening, and after eating dinner at "our spot", we bought some beers and wanted to sit on the beach and hang out a bit before hitting the club. We talked about all sorts of things, took pictures, did handstands in the sunset, and watched the stars appear. It was something I will never forget, swimming as the sun faded out to sea, and sitting, listening to mellow music and talking about how far away we were from home. We were world travelers, and we had just started. It started to get quite dark and the beach slowly became vacant. We packed our stuff and waked down the popular busy street to find our dancing destination. We stumbled upon a bar that hosted one of the best live bands either of us have ever seen. A female violinist, a big bongo player, a keyboardist , a drummer, a bassist, and a guitarist took the stage by storm showing true musical talent. They were an instrumental group, and lacked absolutely nothing. Each member was ridiculously good and the show was stunning. We left that place in awe and disbelief of what we just had witnessed when the group had finished their two sets. We could have stayed there all night, but I suppose maybe they wanted to party a bit as well....
The night progressed as we danced at a giant club, with who knows how many levels and stories, and myself becoming tired and worn out. Smoke permeated the air so heavily and lights flashed everywhere, with music blaring as usual. It was fun but I was tired at this point. I was running on fumes by now and decided to head back to the hotel, parting ways with Simon as he insisted on staying and dancing the night away. I walked outside to a street FULL of people and more cigarette smoke. I flagged down a "transport" and hopped board on back of a spree, half drunk, back to the hotel. I don't know when Simon arrived but luckily I was passed out. I found out later he had to jump a fence by the pool to get back in, and he told me of where we wandered, and people he talked to on the way. I don't really know how he made it back without a ride, but he apparently figured it out somehow.
This was Kuta, and to be honest, aside from the few very fun moments I had, it's nothing to write home about once you have been there for much time. Everyone says Kuta "isn't Bali", and after seeing other places, I couldn't agree more. We did have our fun though, cramming us two on the back of a scooter (with a driver) and cruising the streets, and going out and seeing a skinny tall white guy with one of the Chinese cone hats, nerdy big square bold glasses, and a black and white checkered speedo dancing atop a platform at another club with a fishbowl of alcohol in the palm of one hand, and his genitals in his other swinging it all around for the world to see. Aside from a pet monkey a local displayed on the streets doing funny acts, this was also quite a site to see... I would be scared to see this tall nerdy guy on drugs, but then again, I wouldn't doubt he was...

The second day into our stay in Kuta, I had e-mailed a lady by the name of Kate in which I had met just briefly before boarding my flight to South Korea from L.A.. She had overheard Ken and I talking right after I had met him, and being the only three white people boarding an Asian packed aircraft, she eve dropped into the conversation. She had a two day layover in Soeul, South Korea, in which we were flying straight to Bali, but she left me with her card in order to possibly e-mail her so we could meet up somewhere along the way during her month stay in Bali. After much e-mailing and tough communication, Simon and I were headed to her hotel, in thoughts of just meeting Kate and going out, or whatever seemed appropriate. After searching for her hotel by foot and finally locking down our destination, I phoned her from the reception desk, and to my surprise, not only did we finally reach her, but Simon and I now had plans, big plans. Communication was hazy, and her being the only one with a mobile communication device (Ipad), it was much easier for her to communicate than I, in which had to constantly run to internet cafes. She had booked a tour for four, including her other friend she met right before flying to Bali after her two day layover. She knew we were meeting up, and didn't want to leave us out. It was a downhill bicycle ride, and the bus left in an hour. Simon and I had flip flops on, no cash with us, and completely unprepared, and not all the enthusiastic about it either as a tour didn't even cross our little minds for that day. We were thinking beach, relax, meet Kate, and wander the town, but boy am I glad we concurred, and Simon and I ran off to get our shoes and anything else we needed.
Here we were, in a van and off to pick up Kate's other acquaintance Jen, from Canada on the way to our tour destination. Both girls were quite easy to get along with and Simon and I quickly enjoyed their company. Jen was a 30 year old from Canada who looked 23, and was an outgoing, explosively loud and funny gal. She had traveled quite a bit in her days, even living in Thailand for a year. Kate, to mine and Simon's surprise was 40, and even after days we still didn't believe her. I thought she was in her late twenties, maybe early thirties when I first met her, and Simon thought she was around my age. She was a message therapist from San Diego, had been in the Navy, and had traveled a fair amount herself as well. We all quickly came to know each other well during our two hour bus ride. Jen was in the same boat as Simon and I; she thought this was going to be an hour bike ride around town, right outside her front steps and was jokingly complaining about it going to rain, and her concern for her beautiful bright yellow Nikes. Apparently Kate booked this thing with not much input from either side, but I didn't blame her, it was tough to communicate, and she just wanted to include us all.
We started to make our way far out of town, and into the hills. It quickly became remote and a whole new world. This was the Bali I wanted to see. Small streets surrounded by little temples, huts, and giant jungle leaves. We were the only white people around passing no one but locals. The rains came and it most certainly poured, but just briefly, and Jen was relieved. We were all laughing in the van by this time, giving each other shit, and acknowledging the lousy scheduling and the fact that it had been almost two hours and we hadn't even started our journey yet; quite a different story than what Jen had in mind. The first stop was a drink sampling event. We walked through a small "garden" in the jungle where all kinds of herbs and spices were grown, and arrived at a small lookout over the jungle where we sat and got served sample platters of coffees and teas, and even Balinese hot cocoa. The famous coffee to try was a coffee made from beans that a certain kind of animal poops out. The animal was even on display, huddling in a cage and we got to see the process of them roasting the beans and creating coffee out of it. The pooping process was left out of the small tour, but everything else was explained. I could smell the turd pellets being roasted and it smelled like anything one would expect from REALLY good coffee. This had me insisting to try it, and Simon was right with me on this one. I am not even a coffee drinker unless it's a triple caramel, iced or blended mocha, but just the idea behind this, well, I just couldn't pass it up. I was more than willing to pay 50,000 Indonesian Rupiah (about six USD) even if it was just to make the poor little animal feel appreciated for yielding it's feces. We drank amazing coffee, tea, and other delicious beverages and making our newly introduced tour guide laugh all along the way. His name was Senior, and he most certainly appreciated our loud, joking expressions, even stating that we were the most fun group, despite us being just four. I have to say though, we were loud, and with Jen in the group, we were REAL loud, and REAL funny, and he loved it.
We walked through the path back to our van and before reaching the gravel driveway I could see little children kicking a ball around our van. It took not one second for the kids to notice us coming out from the bushes and they instantly dropped the ball and all ran to the fence to grab each individual's little package of things to try to sell us. It was clockwork and quite funny. It was as if someone had brought the kids there while we were away, just waiting for us to return so they could swarm our white skin shoving little trinkets and candy in our face to try to buy. Selling us white people stuff was noticeably more important even in the little kids' eyes than doing what kids should do. We hopped back into the van for a few minutes and headed to where we would start our descent down the hills. This is where the fun started, and where I for the first time of the trip felt that feeling of being so far away, and appreciating other cultures. It was nearly all downhill, through tiny remote villages where people carried fruit on their head and walked with no shoes. It was an old paved road and smoke from nearby fires would sometimes fill the air. People were cutting brush and doing work labor in all directions. Nearly everyone who saw us yelled "Halo!" and waved. The children playing ball in the dirt would all run over and wave and smile. This is something that so many people don't see, and it's quite emotional. There were families and children and people on the side of the streets and they did anything and everything to acknowledge us and sometimes try to give us a high five. We were celebrities in the remote villages, getting yelled at by every single person we passed, and sometimes even by large groups as if it was a giant chant. It was as if a Hollywood star rode their bike through town at home. Even some of the youngest, smallest kids would wave and try to say hello. I noticed two small kids watching us approach and as we got closer they started to run in the same direction with us. A beautiful little girl and a little boy ran and ran to the side of us laughing and smiling, just as if it was the highlight of their life. I gave them a high five as they got tired and slowed down. I personally love this stuff, and it's almost even hard to write about. It's a whole different world, and to know most of these people will never do anything like I have been able to do, it's tough.
There were beautiful trees and huge rice fields that looked like giant terraces (not steep, just wide and long) that had perfectly aligned rice plants like individual blades of grass. They shimmered in the sunset as the thin layer of water covered each terrace. We walked the rice fields a little and Senior told us about the harvest, and the such hard work the people do time after time, planting, nurturing and gathering the rice from the wide open fields. It was quiet, and I imagined working somewhere like that. The sun was going down and the last stop was a traditional dinner and Senior's small village, where the tours end. We were hot and sweaty by this time, and were greeting with ice cold moist cloths that had an aroma of a local flower in which smelled absolutely amazing and so fresh. Incense was burning in the open walled dining room, and water streamed through a small canal. It was a beautiful setting and the young cooks prepared the food maybe only ten feet away. A couple quick power outages and food was served. To this day, it was the best meal I have had yet, and the best chicken (fried and grilled) I have had ever. The soup was oh so good, and Simon's personal favorite. Not only was this food of extraordinaire quality, but it was for the first time, a pretty good sized meal. Us four sat with Senior and ate and drank a couple beers. We talked about much, and even getting a little personal with Senior talking about status, money, politics, and country vs country. It was actually a bit sad. Senior who was only a few years older than me told us about status, and that he is pretty much destined to be a worker. He explained with such honesty and truth that he was "the lowest" and without really a sense of humility at all. He told us that you have to respect your destiny, and that only certain things are for the higher class. Senior also explained that even locals themselves view dark skin as dirty, even being dark themselves. White skin is beautiful, and that is that. By the end of the night I wanted to bring Senior back to the states. He was such an honest, good guy, and had so much fun with us.
We grabbed a beer for the road and our van driver drove us back, dropping Senior off at his little house. I snapped a picture with him, and back to town we headed, all tired and worn out for out last night before all heading south to a more beautiful, remote, quiet beach that Jen had in mind. I was more than ready to book it out of Kuta, and even though we hadn't been there much at all that whole day, we were all wanting something different, and not just for a day tour, but to stay. It was time time visit other parts of Bali.