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!
