Jalan Jalan

Photos: Passport & Plate - Housemate's Chicken Soup

tracie — Mon, 3 Feb 2014 19:23:00 GMT

How to prepare this recipe: Do yourself a favour. Scrape the remnants of celery (leaves and all), chili, shallots, broccolini and carrot – whatever you can find from the fridge and chop them up in to little pieces – Dexter style. None of this Julienne stuff. Hack hack hack! Chop up some garlic and ginger or steal some from your housemate’s shelf in the cupboard. You can get away with this because who counts garlic cloves or ginger knobs? I know – housemates do! I take that back. Just use your mouldy pieces that you keep pushing towards the back and be quick about it before they sprout limbs and before you know it you have a ginger garlic replica of Jesus and it is more than likely that your housemates believe in not one but many gods and they will win against you in any kind of vegetable-god shadow puppet play that occurs in the kitchen while you wait for your egg to boil in a separate pot of water. Or two eggs if you like. Then hack up some chicken breast in to large pieces. (Hack hack hack!). Heat garlic and ginger in pot, add a bit of oil and salt – I use pink Himalayan salt – and the chicken. If you have Kecap Manis dress your combination in this while it cooks. If you don’t, sprinkle brown sugar on top, then add soy sauce. Add boiling water and more salt. Add more salt (can you tell I’m avoiding using stock cubes?) and add more chili or in my case I had run out of chili so I added tabasco. Prepare glass rice noodles in boiling hot water and portion some in a bowl. Peel your egg. In the case of it still being runny, squeeze it on top of your glass rice noodles. Allow time for retrieving dropped egg shell from bowl. Place a couple of cherry toms on your glass noodles and spoon mixture on top of it all in your bowl. Eat with wooden chopsticks and plastic spoon you stole from Noodle King the other day when you bought that bag of prawn chips and ate it all to yourself. Add more salt. The story behind this recipe: I was really poor after having lived in Indonesia for one year working as a volunteer in the AYAD program (Australian Youth Ambassador for Development program) and just moved back to Australia. I had just gone back to teaching at the time and after a short stint living with a friend and her mum, I found refuge in a share house. There was a Slovakian family living downstairs, Gabby, Ian and Vivien and a Nepalese guy named Will and a Thai guy named Nur living upstairs. We all became very close during our dinner times, having a few beers and sharing food from all over the world as well as co-tutoring Vivienne the daughter in the Slovakian family. We heard amazing stories from Ian about his escape from Chekoslovakia, we drank cheap beer and played scrabble or watched Australia's Got Talent on a normal evening. I created this soup one night out of leftovers in the fridge and we all loved it so much, I wrote about it on my blog: http://theliterarygangster.com/2013/05/31/housemates-chicken-soup-asian-style/. It was very important to me coming back from living overseas, to keep the multicultural wave rolling. I had moved to a semi-rural town in NSW and was worried about feeling isolated during my return to OZ. Nevertheless, all was fine with the crew.

Lucu!

tracie — Thu, 21 Jun 2012 17:52:00 GMT

I really am a big fan of Indonesian humour from "Eat, Pay, Leave" to this beauty below! This was taken at El Kabron at Padang Padang, South Bali.

In contrast with this photo below, it really is worth a visit!

Trek to Tampak Sering

tracie — Fri, 15 Jun 2012 21:16:00 GMT

I took a walk to Tempak Sering on Wednesday and on the way I saw this snake which had been run over. It amazes me! It actually looks 3D! How uncanny!

My favourite ‘not so secret’ locations in Bali

tracie — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 16:01:00 GMT

White Sand Beaches

The White Sand Beaches lie just north of Candidasa on the East coast of Bali. I usually take a relaxing motorbike ride from Ubud through Gianyar and then up the Australian Government funded seaside road. Usually there are no hassles with macet unless of course the winds are high and the trucks can’t make it on the boats so they are lined up on the side of the road for tens of kilometres. The White Sand Beaches are a popular tourist destination for the area however there is a way to enjoy it in a non-tourist way. After a particular afternoon frolicking in the water and at the beach, my friends and I decided to camp on the banana chairs there. The family said we could stay for a very reasonable price for the night. They left us with fresh fruit and water for the night before explaining that they would usually stay with the guests but couldn’t this time as there was a ceremony on. What more could you want; the beach under the moonlight, the phosphorous lights sparkling against our skin in the water and the serenity, oh the serenity. The next morning I literally woke up, sat up in my banana chair, took my dress off and jumped in the refreshing salty waves. Beats coffee and a smoke as a wake up strategy. That day we went fishing and snorkelling. My friends caught a few fish; I was happy enough to feel a few bites. Oh the serenity.

Pantai Indah

Pantai Indah is a small section of beach tucked away amongst the fancy five star hotels along Sanur beach. To get there from Jalan Danau Tamblingan requires walking down a dirt track through a very peaceful cow paddock. For the vegetarians out there the warung at Pantai Indah makes a delicious potato curry and for those non-vegetarians out there, go the chicken sate. The sate ayam comes served on a mini barbeque rack with mini coals burning inside so they stay nice and warm and an added bonus of minimising the risk of salmonella too I suppose. At high tide, I like to enjoy a fresh coconut and a bintang (detox and retox at the same time - why waste time?) and a swim amongst the seaweed. Just don’t look down. If you are visiting at night time you may be exposed the some interesting music like a reggae version of ‘Ob La Di Ob La Da’ which may confuse you as it did me. But other times a small group of local guys may make their way to your table with guitars and bongo drums asking you for a request. It could be so romantic…

Hot Springs

The hot springs are a popular domestic tourist as well as international tourist destination. The warm water that gushes from the intricately carved rock in the side of a mountain is located near Singaraja and Lovina. The first time I visited I’m not sure if it was because I was still young or if the minerals in the water were detoxing my skin but I broke out in pimples! Now I find nothing more relaxing, after a gorgeous drive over the mountains through the middle of Bali, than to lay back under the water fountain and let the water pressure massage my skin. It is very cleansing and revitalising. Plus you meet some interesting people from all over Indonesia whilst you bathe in the natural mineral waters.

4am Nasi Kuning in Ubud

At about 4am after a big night out on the town indulging in arak and live music with the locals, there is nothing better than a good dose of freshly cooked Nasi Kuning to satisfy the post party pain! At a secret location somewhere on Jalan Monkey Forest you can access the cook’s delicious feast via a small gang or alley which leads right in to the Ibu’s kitchen. Usually my friends and I will sit on an old wooden table which lies sideways at night on the side of the street, to devour the yummy goodness. Selamat makan!

Longstick

And last but not least is the location that is even harder for YOU to enjoy. This is because it is nothing more than my veranda that fringes my small two bedroom apartment/house/kos in Katiklantang (Longstick). I like to kick back with a cup of tea or coffee, maybe my guitar in hand and a clove smoke to really take in the view. From my veranda in Katiklantang you can see Mount Agung in the distance with a lovely view of the rice paddies laying before her. I am truly attched to Gunung Agung as she is visible to us humans on the land, to the birds and Hindu Gods above the clouds, and her feet are always dug deep in the earth, visible to the Hindu Gods that lay under the ground.

Panas Sekali!

tracie — Tue, 17 Apr 2012 17:39:00 GMT

It was so panas (hot!) the other day that even the ants were in to the coconuts.
I took this not even 5 minutes after receiving my coconut!
Good one Bali!

I couldn't help myself. i had to take a photo; they were so lumut!
(Blame the weather for my lameness...)

Borabadur Pics

tracie — Thu, 12 Apr 2012 15:45:00 GMT

We all feel a little small at times and Borobudur is certainly one of those amazing places that makes you feel tiny.

Minuscule in fact.

My favourite part about visiting Borobudur is staying at the hotel on the massive temple's grounds, and viewing it at night time.

At about 10pm, walk to the foot of the temple, wait and watch. Its kind of eerie yet beautiful in the way that the bright blue lights illuminate the temple from behind so that you can see the silhouette against the black sky.

It makes you feel even smaller.

But with a little perspective, we can always make our selves feel larger.

Pak and his Anjing

tracie — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 17:07:00 GMT

Just a quick post today so I can share one of my favourite pics from my Bali life.

Most of the time, I don't notice what us Westerners would call the 'unorganised' and 'disorderly' ways of Bali anymore. For example, the traffic is just some microcosm of the Bali Mandela where everything just flows and near misses on the road are accepted as part of the journey.

Even the smells, I don't notice too much anymore.

But every now and then when the urge to sit on a toilet that flushes, eat a meal without chili or kickback and play Playstation overcomes me;

I just look at this picture and smile.

How does this picture make you feel?

Nyepi 2012

tracie — Fri, 30 Mar 2012 17:51:00 GMT

In a recent post, I described the various interesting, pleasing and annoying sounds of Indonesia. Today however the only sound that can be heard is the soft exhale of the wind as she caresses the rice paddies, making the rice stalks rustle and hustle.

There are no motorbikes whizzing past, no people gossiping on the side of the road and no men walking down the street screaming ‘luuummpiaaahhh’ (that ones for you Hannah, Pras and Gopar!).

It is very peaceful as I sit on my veranda in awe of the kehijauan of my local village of Katiklantang (or ‘Longstick’ as the locals call it. It is a popular naughty joke amongst my Balinese friends because I live in ‘Longstick’…).

Today, everywhere in Bali, people are required to stay in their homes, not allowed to use listrik, nor make any noise as part of the holiday called Nyepi. I could act like an encyclopedia here and go in to some sort of detailed description as to what Nyepi is; or, I could put it in the words of my Balinese friends. I will choose the latter.

Today everyone must stay home and stay quiet so that ‘the bad spirits don’t get you’.

After last nights celebrations, I expected today to have an eerie children of the corn – or rice - or that matter, feel to it. But right now is very peaceful.

For the past few weeks, or for some villages, only for the last two days, the Balinese people have been constructing Ogoh Ogohs in preparation for Nyepi.

Ogoh Ogohs come in all different shapes and sizes, from massive bores bearing large, white foam teeth at the front and a large pink penis at the back, to small angry-looking monsters riding on top of a Tek Kotak packet. Some of my favourites are the large breasted Amazon woman and the dreadlocked wild surfer man.

At about 5pm yesterday, tourists and locals gathered on the side of the streets all around Bali in anticipation for the Nyepi precession. I situated myself on Jalan Hanoman in Ubud and it wasn’t until about 6pm that the excitement began. First came the clanging of the gamelan instruments which were played by the Balinese as they paraded down the street. The musicians were followed by hundreds of people shouting and screaming in excitement. Groups of young kids carried the Ogoh Ogoh structures down Jalan Hanoman, with what looked like to me, much ease. There were men working on the street corners directing traffic out of the way. They used walky talkies to communicate with other traffic directors in the other villages so that they knew when the precession would begin. I’m sure if they all just started playing the gamelan in each village at the same time they may not have needed the walky talkies.

Amidst the precession were a couple of men pulling what I would call carts which were similar to the kaki lima food cart, but without the soto ayam cabinet. One cart cradled a small sound system and the other, a set of spotlights.

The precession stopped at one end of Jalan Hanoman and filled almost the entire street with oversized monsters. A voice filled the street, filtered through the crackly speakers of the kaki sound system; ‘Selamat Hari Raya Nyepi!’ The sun slowly gave way to the moon creating a blue twilight atmosphere and the kaki light cart flashed a large red spotlight, highlighting the eerie Ogoh Ogohs and the crazy costumes and face make up that the Balinese had so decoratively worn.

The kids were painting each other’s faces in the nooks and crannies of the closed shop fronts on the side of the street. Teenagers spotted colourful spikey hair styles and face make up that would make Halloween seem like a cute, non-rabid puppy and one teen even wore the famous scream mask!

The lights flashed faster, the voiceover rattled with more intense excitement and the people screamed and clapped as the Ogoh Ogohs were paraded around in circles to release the bad spirits.

And the bad spirits were released that night.

I joined my friends on Jalan Bisma for a drinking party on the temple stairs. The nights bad spirit of choice - arak, poured from a plastic water bottle and shotted from a plastic cup.

Despite the bad spirits making their way on the streets there was no bad spirit-influenced dancing because the nights party was a silent party aka. no live music.

After a deliciously satisfying Irish Coffee with the other two of Chalies Angels (how ironic, being called angels on Nyepi eve!) at Napi Orti, we went home to our other loungeroom CP Lounge to continue the partying in silence.

The usual family members were there and then some. We all sat in the dark together (some tried to play pool in the dark) and indulged in some more bad spirits before shutting down early so that everyone had enough time to pulang before the 6am curfew. There was a lot of talk about what people were planning to do for the day of silence. Most people, including myself said that we wanted to do it properly and stay home in the dark, not use any technology, maybe write or read or catch up on sleep or meditate. After being asked so many times what my Nyepi plans were I decided to cut the conversation short and say that I was going to stay home, get drunk and high and watch porn all day. Ha!

I returned home in the early hours of the morning and slept through most of the day. At 1pm I was awoken by Mawar from downstairs and handed a smorgasboard of Indian food, a coffee, salad and sandwich to devour before sleeping again through the afternoon.

I was awoken surprised at approximately 5:30pm, by the sound of about sixty children walking down the streets of Longstick. They appeared from all different directions at the same time and continued through the muddy path that divides the rice paddies towards the river.

Maybe the children are off limits to the bad spirits or maybe after being inside the house for so long the parents were like ‘whatever, the bad spirits can have them!’

At about 6pm, Mawar appeared on my veranda again bearing a plate of delicious nasi goreng and she reminded me that I couldn’t turn the lights on.

Before Nyepi, I asked my friend Brick what people do all day on Nyepi? His reply was that lots of couples stay home and have sex all day. On that note, I wonder what the percentage of Capricorns is in Bali in comparison to other star signs…

So at this stage it does feel a little bit eerie. There is a man walking down the street with a flash-light and my paranoid and imaginative mind replays that scene in ‘Ghost’ when the bad guy dies and all those little black monster things scurry across the road to take his soul.

Ah well, not to worry. I’ve still got my sandwich sitting on the table in case I need to sacrifice it as an offering. I hope the bad spirits aren’t allergic to egg.

Mokos Mojo!

tracie — Tue, 20 Mar 2012 19:13:00 GMT

There’s nothing like hanging out at my fave (use the whole word! How much time do you think you’re saving!!!) spot, Moko’s in Ubud. It is an intimate environment to watch the band play, drink arak mojitos by the jug and dance on the table as though it is your own living room.

Last night we saw local gig-meisters Aboe, Keydux, Dadok, Dewa and awesome ‘semangat-power voice’- Hannah take the floor. You can’t help but dance when the crew play their more than toe-tapping tunes.

But the brilliant thing about these guys is not just Dadok’s funky bassface and grooving style, or Aboe’s gorgeous smile – as bright and wide as the sunset on the horizon, or Keydux’s mantap guitar playing and the funny schoolboy tricks he plays on Dadok, or Dewa’s funny expressions as he hammers the cajon (watch Hannah’s face when he does this!), or Hannas’s powerful voice that pulls at your soulstrings;

but it is also that they always leave the microphone open to random hijackers.

The first celebrity swinger was Olaf. Olaf stepped up to the microphone, guitar in hand and blew our minds with three original songs. I had to pick my jaw up off the floor so I didn’t dance on it.

Kum, local artist and famous for his song ‘Take Me Home’, written in under a week for a fundraiser for the Bali dogs, was passed the guitar by Aboe during a song. It is this mutual understanding of the love for songs that I love too.

The highlight of the evening was Mr Khan, or Chuggekhan from India. I was lucky to see him hijack the band with his castanets last week but last night’s jam was extra special because he sang as well! The band improvised an Indian influenced rock song with ease and once again I had to try to keep my jaw off the floor. Kum and Mr Khan brought the house down with their interactive, intercultural improvised lyrics while the band had their backs 100%.

If you are visiting Ubud, make sure you check out Mokos. They don’t mind if you rock up in a green wig and steal the dance floor; they don’t mind if you dance on the tables; they don’t mind if you want to run random trivia nights there and stride the bar wearing fake moustaches.

But they do mind if you don’t join the family!

So don’t forget to get down with keluarga Mokos; it’s where the locals go.

Semangat!

Nyepi!

tracie — Mon, 19 Mar 2012 17:59:00 GMT

Nyepi: Coming to a Bali near you!

http://www.smartraveller.gov.au/zw-cgi/view/travelbulletins/Balinese_New_Year_23_March_2012

Watch this space for a what will be most likely a very 'Tracie-esque' experience of Nyepi.

I mean, how will I stay quiet for a whole day??

Lost In Translation

tracie — Sun, 18 Mar 2012 22:06:00 GMT

So there are times when we think we know that the other person has understood what we have said but they haven’t, even when we are speaking the same language let alone when we are speaking in different languages.

SMSing in mixed languages can be very entertaining.

For example, the temple can often be misunderstood for a tampon. God/the universe/Elvis what ever you believe in knows that praying in a tampon can be somewhat uncomfortable.

Dinner that you have just bought for two didn’t actually include you but included the person you bought it for and their friend.

Sometimes ‘a little bit’ means that the person saying ‘a little bit’ results in them actually declaring themselves, ‘a little bitch’.

‘St. Patricks Day’ becomes ‘St Party’s Day’ which makes sense when you get the day mixed up in the first place.

Sitting and waiting for a friend for over half an hour may not be due to jam karet or rubber time in Indonesia but actually due to the fact that there you misheard or misread the name of the warung.

And it doesn’t just stop at verbal language but body language too.

If you happen to be seen with a person of the opposite sex maybe once twice or three times, you are now their pacar (boyfriend/girlfriend) or could even be considered their spouse.

I joined my English teacher Made Suwana on Thursday night, in an English class at the local banjar, Negeri. Seriously, Made has taught me more about English than Mrs Palagy ever did. It could also have been half mine and Hayley’s fault too considering that we nicknamed Long John Silver, Long Shlong Silver, after the casual teacher who happened to be teaching us at the time. Yup, that’s how I remember studying Treasure Island…

Made introduced me to the class, introduced the question words in English and then handed the class over to me.

And I thought I was just there for the food…

Made S had to remind me after speaking to the class for a couple of minutes that although we could understand each other at the speed we talk to each other, the students couldn’t.

It confirmed my realisation that communicating can be so fragile.

The class were really shy and even scared to talk to the crazy bule who had just hijacked their class. The thing is, I remember being that shy whilst learning Indonesian. I remember being too scared that I would make a mistake.

It really makes me think that whatever I wrote back in one of the first couple of blogs about the man with the bad Indonesian accent, was really awful. I can’t believe that I had a go about him speaking bad Indonesian. I know nothing about him. Just like you may know nothing about me right now while you are reading this blog. Ah well, nasi sudah menjadi bubur.

There’s that old saying, don’t judge a book by its cover. We can be too quick to judge people sometimes. And maybe both people are at fault. Maybe one person didn’t communicate himself or herself clearly and maybe the other didn’t listen properly.

In Bali, people are always asking questions about you so that they can place you in the status rank. Some example questions are: What is you name? Where are you from? Where are you staying? Are you married? How many children do you have? What religion are you?

Sometimes my friends and I just make up silly questions to ask people when we meet them so that we don’t have to ask or answer these questions AGAIN!

Some example questions are; what is your favourite colour? What do you think about having a coconut as the next president of America? Why do birds suddenly appear anytime you are near? Why did the chicken cross the road? What is the average velocity of an African Swallow….? Hahaha!

One expectation of bules in Indonesia is that we are all rich. I have discovered that money is a very sensitive topic. Now, that is true if you consider the differences in the average wage between a person working in Australia and a person working in Bali that bules are more well of. I won’t even get in to the fact that we have health care, centrelink and a university loan repayment scheme. However I do know people working, volunteering and/or studying in Bali, whos wage is the same or less than the average Balinese wage.

When my funds get low at the end (hahahah-okay the beginning) of the month and Pak asks me why I chose to eat the nasi campur that I just bought from the lady carrying the basket of food on her head instead of at the fancy restaurant over the road I don’t say because I don’t have enough money. I say that it is lebih enak, or tastes nicer. Which it is. I made this mistake once when an Ibu asked me if I wanted to but some manggis, the price was Rp. 13.000 for a kilo. I told her that I didn’t have enough uang and she laughed at me. It would seem ridiculous that I didn’t have enough money. I would never tell them that I’ve been selling all of my books at the local bookshop so that I would have enough money to eat all week!

But that’s just the way it is.

I was reading Siddartha a few months back and one of my favourite parts was when Siddartha went to the river and learned how to read it. All he did was listen and observe. He learned the ways of the river and earned much respect from the people crossing the river.

I like to remind myself now just to listen and observe and take things in rather than think that I know what I’m doing, take over the situation and exit the situation feeling empty.

Whilst learning how to teach language at uni, I heard a story about a person who lived next to a Japanese family and they had a four-year-old girl. Everyday this person would speak English to the little girl but would not get a response from her-in any language. Then one day after about three months the little girl started speaking English.

If we immerse ourselves in anything long enough we will learn it. Isn’t that how advertising works? Ooh I could go for McDonalds cheeseburger right now…

Its like if you listen to a song a few times and then randomly start singing it one day realising that you know the words.

I suppose it works the other way too; if we are exposed to something negative for a long time then it will have an effect on us too.

I realised the other day that for the last few months, I have not had anyone raise their voice towards me me and I have not raised my voice at anyone else (and I mean in anger not in the ‘yahoooo go Mokos band yeeeeewwww!’ way). So I haven’t been exposed to any angry vibes. This is the first time in my life that this has ever happened. And I realised that I haven’t had a need to be angry. Yes I’ve been frustrated at times, but not angry.

Anyway, I spent this night with Made S listening to the banjar meeting in Indonesian/Balinese and I realised that since coming to work in animal welfare I have learned to understand a lot of animal welfare-related vocabulary. It made me feel not so lost in translation for a moment.

Anyway, I do realise that as my brain soaks up Bahasa Indonesia, my Bahasa Inggris is deteriorating faster than you can ay antidisestablishmentarianism.

I saw Blacky The Dog (coolest dog in Ubud) the other day and someone had hang a gold chain around his neck. I immediately messaged Kum to ask who pimped Blacky?

Try explaining what ‘pimped’ means in Bashasa. Kum understood what I meant as I tried to menyampaikan via SMS, the image in my head of Minime singing ‘It’s a hard knock life, for me…’ with his large, gold clock swinging around his neck.

But I was successful; so stick that in ya pipe and smoke it.

Peace out

Oh Bali!

tracie — Wed, 14 Mar 2012 18:53:00 GMT

Oh Bali how you tease;

Your lanterns are comfort

For the lonely heart,

Your mountains caress my mind,

Your rainy tears

Devour the sunshine

And the sun warms my soul

More than the moon

Moves me

And I want to sing and dance

In your streets,

The way you make my heart beat

To the rhythm

Of your harmonious tide.

Berjalan-jalan

tracie — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 14:37:00 GMT

For those of you who know me in Australia you will know that I’ve always lived on the crazy side of life and like Cyclone Tracey I tear a path through anywhere I go mixing it up; why? Because life is boring otherwise. It helps to have a short attention span and lack of patience if you want to have fun. I will never forget the photograph I saw in the Museum in Darwin which was of a beat up, old Torana nestled amongst the debris of Cyclone Tracey’s war path. Someone had painted on the back of it ‘Tracey, you bitch’. I love that; bring it on!

For those of you who know me in Indonesia you will know that I often get called Traciegila, because gila means crazy, Tracie rhymes with crazy and it suits my personality.

So how do we measure craziness? And what do we mean by craziness?

I’ve always been inspired by the crazy’s. I always say; if you’re contemplating regret; don’t, discuss it with a friend, justify it and move on! I’ve been lucky enough to have friends who I can be myself around - go freedom for self expression!! - Semangat!! For example, Hayley and the Richards family, Carmel, Monica, Sue and of course my sister Karen. I won’t list you all but you know who you are. So my point is that when I say I’m going to do something crazy like walk from Ubud to Sanur just because I want to you would know that this is a normal Tracie thing. So what if the hundred or so people I spoke to on the way thought that I was a crazy bule who had just escaped an institution for the insane! I could blame the cuaca panas, the chili, the arak I suppose…but I think its just that I was programmed this way.

The thing is, that I’m naturally a rebel. And I don’t mean the bandanna-wearing type nor the beret-wearing type; but, I have to question everything all of the time.

If someone tells me, ‘don’t eat cheese before noon’, goddamit I will eat cheese before noon! Why? Why not? Everything is just an experience.

So I will tell you about my Forest Gump moment. First of all let me tell you that I didn’t grow a beard by the end of it but it doesn’t matter because thanks to Hana, after the other night’s Trivia extravaganza, I now have a gorgeous set of stick on eyebrows and mustache. Phew!

So the original plan was to get up at 4am, chuck my backpack and cool walking sandals (courtesy of Sue) put one foot in front of the other and hike it to Sanur. But when the alarm beeped at me and I looked outside, it was rainy and dark so I went back to sleep. As you do.

I eventually got up a few hours later and found myself trekking down the road at 8:30 in the morning. The idea was that I couldn’t, listen to music, smoke, read a book when I stopped or use my phone and I could only drink water and eat fruit along the way. So if you want to get all DnM about it, the idea of this stroll was to let everything go, supaya (yes! Finally get to use that word in context!) I could let everything go – consider it a cleansing of the soul, heart and brain if you like. Or maybe I really do just like Forest Gump that much. Who knows? Semangat!

I followed the flat and winding road; it wasn’t too hot as it was overcast so it was quite pleasant. Well that was a boring sentence wasn’t it?

Anyway I’ll skip to the important parts. (I always imagined reading Jayne Eyre without the descriptive paragraphs and thinking it would only take 5 minutes).

I ran in to Wi from work and he was surprised to see me. He asked me; ‘Tracie where is your bike? Do you have a flat tyre? Do you need a ride?’

‘No thanks Wi, I’m going for a jalan kaki to Sanur’

His daughter on the back of his bike smiled at me and another smaller version of her, popped out from in between him and her taking me by surprise. It's funny how many Indonesian people can fit on a motorbike or in a bemo...

‘Noo Tracie, why? Why do you want to walk to Sanur? For olahraga?’

‘I don’t know, maybe for sport but also just to talk to the people along the way and have a think’.

He left and wished me a hati-hati (atau mati!) and a selamat jalan.

I stopped at the markets in Singapadu and bought some manggis. Yes that is your fault Ben because now I’m addicted to manggis. I spoke to the lady’s in the market and they laughed when I said that I had walked from Ubud.

Crazy Bule. Ha!

On I walked singing to myself ‘pagi, pagi jalan jalan (jalan jalan), siang, siang jalan jalan (jalan jalan)…’

I thought about some stuff for a while, then after these thoughts had whirled around in my head long enough I let them fly off and now I don’t even need to think about them anymore. And I don’t mean thoughts like, what should I have for dinner? Or should I buy that dress? I mean serious stuff that has been eating away at me for a long time. I once heard that to come to terms with your past you must slowly digest it. The way I see it was that in the last few years, my past was providing me with a nice dose of indigestion because…(wait for it!)…things just kept coming up! Ha! How’s that for a good pun?!

I stopped at a small shop in a village just before Batubulan and met a lovely girl called Indah and her little sister Novi. I ate pineapple and watermelon and had a chat about the weather. It was still overcast but the badai had berlalu’ed (wrap that around your tongue!). Talking about the weather in Indonesian is much more interesting. You don't even need to say that you found a fifty thousand rupiah note at the end.

Then I kicked on towards Batubulan. I was surprised that I wasn’t feeling too sore or tired so I just kept on walking and looking at things. For example, there was a wedding precession stopping traffic, twelve year old children riding motor bikes home from school and anjings making love in the street (thank god for the spay/neuter program!). It didn’t feel like I had just walked 15 or so km’s but rather it felt like I was taking a light stroll on the beach watching the waves crash against the sand bar or in Indonesia’s case, watching tango wrappers wash up against the black sand beaches.

As I walked through Batubulan I heard another voice call out my name ‘Traaacie!’

It was none other than Komang; Mokos Master of Blues!

We had a chat on the side of the road and I explained that I was walking to Sanur. He was so happy and surprised to see me walking there. He also asked me where my bike was. At home of course, I answered. He offered to drive me with all seriousness but I explained that I needed to complete my mission. It was good to see a familiar face but at the same time it felt like all of the people who I stopped and talked to or who rode beside me on their bikes talking to me were familiar anyway.

Now the next part is my favourite part. As I walked along the footpath through Batubulan, a mob of school kids just leaving school for the day, crossed to my side of the road.

The kids were cheeky! They skipped along side me and asked me in their best English what my name was and where I’m from. h you’re an Indonesian teacher ‘hey hey, dia bisa bicara Bahasa Indonesia!!” So now I had my own precession going for me! Some of the boys explained why they were carrying a long sword. They had been practicing traditional dance at school. The students drizzled off after a bit, making their way home for lunch after a hard days study. They jumped on the back of motorbikes with the rest of their family or skipped down the small gangs towards their homes. I walked on smiling to myself.

It wasn’t too long after that a couple of the girls and their father pulled up next to me on their bike.

‘We have barong masks, ayo ke rumahmu!’

So I followed the family down to their house and was introduced to the Ibu and the bapak. The little girl explained that their family made barong masks and she took me on a full tour of the barong shed. I then shared my manggis and watermelon with the family, before heading off gain. One foot in front of the other; pelan pelan, adeng adeng, alon alon.

The traffic started becoming more gila as I approached the outskirts of Denpasar. I was getting low on funds but decided to stop at a small warung to do my bit for animal welfare. This particular warung had a cage full of puppies out the front up for sale. I greeted the family and asked for a bottle of water and a small container. The puppies were so thirsty and they lapped up the water I gave them quite quickly. I didn’t tie myself to their cage and demand their freedom but I explained that the puppies needed water and to be let out of the cage for a run. So together we exercised the pups, gave them a hug and a kiss and I threw in a bit of information about getting the pups vaccinated.

And then it was back to me again. Walking. Just walking. I crossed the bypass and wondered for a moment how I would be able to stand the tedious bypass. It started to sprinkle a little hujan so after another couple of kms I stopped in at a small roadside warung and chatted with the bapak there.

“Apa kabar Pak?’

‘Biasa saja.’

‘Why only okay?’

He then spoke Balinese and we played charades and I worked out that he was in a motor bike accident.

‘Kasihan Pak’.

I bought a kopi from him, had a Little Sit Down (LSD) and then said my goodbyes before taking on the bypass again.

We’re nearly there!

The bypass wasn’t so tedious for a few reasons. One of them was the random Balinese men selling gorilla masks at the traffic lights.

‘Mau ini?’

‘Sudah!’

Yes that’s right I already have a gorilla mask.

The hujan started getting a bit heavier but I just gave in to it and let it fall.

At one point I jokingly hid in a small tin shed with a corn lady (lady selling corn) and that was funny. You probably had to be there.

Then all of a sudden I was in Sanur. Jalan Tamblingan.

I stopped at a circle k and sat down on the bench seat out the front. I looked down at my feet and noticed that I had a couple of nasty blisters. I then realised that my legs hurt! I decided to finish off the 30km or so walk with a swim in the rain at Pantai Indah as well as a coconut to rehydrate and a warm soto ayam for my belly.

I lay down on the beach and had a nap in the rain and was later woken by two small dogs licking my face.

I slept well that night at Erin and Clare’s house; despite Kucing, the stray cat, leaving Clare, Erin, Laura and I a lovely little dead-rat surprise during dinner.

Well that’s the end of my walking adventure. I think that I will do it again sometime. Thanks Corinne for the idea. And for now, let me just say that most people I know think that I’m crazy; crazy by name and crazy by nature. But without the crazy, the gila, the ‘look this is me in a nutshell’ moments; we would all be going nuts anyway…out of boredom. So don’t measure the craziness. Don’t question the craziness. Just justify it with a friend…or in a blog post. Semangat! Semangat!

Baliology

tracie — Mon, 5 Mar 2012 18:13:00 GMT

I would like to invite you to my other blog site which has been running for nearly a year now. 'Baliology...a term yet to be defined' will take you on a vicarious experience through all things Bali. Experience Bali through my eyes (you may need to straighten your goggles a little after reading) and feel free to share your experiences too at http://traciepascoe.blog.com/

Photos: Indonesia

tracie — Mon, 5 Mar 2012 17:00:00 GMT

Berjalan2 di Bali!

My Scholarship entry - Understanding a Culture through Food

tracie — Mon, 5 Mar 2012 16:41:50 GMT

So you could say I came to Bali for the food.
Nasi Goreng, served with an egg on top and a couple of sate chicken kebabs on the side is perfect for when you find yourself or 'on the nasi' or low on money.
I do love a good Beef Rendang; spicy, coconut curry beef cooked for hours. Although, please be wary that if you decide to order the Beef Rending in Bali; don’t, unless you have a good couple of hours to chew it of course! This leaves either pork or chicken as the predominant meats on the menu which is the reason that the ‘S’ word is now banned in my presence. If a person should such as mention the ‘S’ word it would be a big misteak and I will hit you. Well if I had enough iron in the system to have the energy to hit you, I would.
I am disappointed as I am yet to find a traditional bakso (Indonesian soup with meatballs made from chicken or that red looking meat I wont mention) that isn't processed. How is it that you could visit a country and order a traditional meal only to find that the meat balls are processed like a McDonalds patty? This is in a country where the Ibu’s spend hours grinding herbs and spices for cooking. A country where the Pak’s climb banana trees right in front of you just to collect banana leaves for cooking with.
It’s amazing how some restaurants and warungs will charge up to Rp. 58.000 for a plate of Nasi Goreng whilst other smaller warungs will only charge Rp. 3.000 and the meal comes with delicious side dishes and a plate of fresh fruit for dessert.
The secret is; find a warung with a really nice, old Ibu. The place will have plastic chairs, ugly table cloths covering intricately carved wooden tables and the bathroom will have a squat toilet. Half way through cooking your meal the Ibu will send a family member on a sepeda motor to ask a neighbour a block away for a pinch of ginger, but while you wait she will serve you nutty krupuks and tea in a tall, ugly glass. However, it will be the most delicious meal you will ever eat.