Bali Day 5: Other Peoples' Sweat

Today, I am happy to report that there are no dead bats on the chairs. There are no dudes with machetes behind the villa. There will be sweat, however. And worse, most of it won't be ours.
Ayu arrived just a little early today to make breakfast. We've decided that Balinese time is the opposite of African time. In Bali, rather than being late, everyone is early. So, we had breakfast early. And it was lovely.

Mei Goreng inside a delicate duck egg nest.

And it appears that I took a few more pictures of the villa:

This is the ouside of the villa. The wall on the right is our bedroom wall. The small building in the center is called a Kubu. It's a shack where rice farmers can rest and eat when they are planting rice crops. They also sit in them from sunup until sundown to scare birds away when the rice is almost ready to harvest.

The ceiling of the villa is an amazing hand-carved mahogany treasure. It's all recycled wood. This is at least 30' x 15'. It's massive and gorgeous.

No. I wasn't kidding, unfortunately.

Ayu quizzed me on my Balinese and unleashed a few more tasty phrases on me. I"m trying very hard to learn as much as I can. I'm finding it hard to keep the Balinese separate from the Bahasa, though it seems that they are used pretty interchangeably here.
We were supposed to go to Ubud Center with Kadek today, but he's picking his mother up at the hospital, where she was being treated for Beri Beri, which is a disease I sort of mentally lump with leprosy, Dengue Fever, and Smallpox. Yes, of course they're real, but they're so far removed from my life generally, that that may as well be fictional.
Only they aren't.
And I should probably be drinking more bug spray here.
So, I gargled some DEET before another driver came to collect us. His name was Ari. But Everyone called him Dego. But, of course, his real name was Kadek. He explained that he was called Dego because when he was a baby, he was always on the go.
Kadek + go = Dego. The math checks out.
He was a smiling guy with a sporty little car and a big smile.
The drive to Ubud center was the usual thrilling mix of traffic, broken roads, motor bikes and complete gridlock.
There were no mysteriouos piles of laundry blocking the road and we didn't see the ancient topless lady who has been wandering around on one stretch of road for the past few trips. On the last trip, she was joined by a man, who, while topless, was also bottomless, because he was taking a bath in one of the deep drainage ditches that line nearly every road in Bail. 
Maybe it was his laundry?
Honestly, I didn't care to ask. I wouldn't have known where to look as he bobbed in the filthy water running in the ditch.
No. I don't have any photos, you freak.
Ubud is billed as the cultural center of Bali, which I translate as One of the Few Cities to Have a Starbucks. Which is not a point in its favor. Ubud was packed. Ari/Dego/Kadek 2.0 parked in a parking lot that was 50% puddles and 50% trash. He walked us up to the center of the city. Our plan was to see The Royal Palace, the Royal Water Temple, and The Ubud Art Market, where, it is alleged, you can find great art from local artisans. Dego pointed out the palace, the temple, and the art market and told us he'd meet us back at the car.
Ubud Center was alive with preparations for a cremation ceremony. As I explained earlier, people in small villages in Bali bury their dead and then dig them up to cremate them every few years. Dego explained that because the royal family was so wealthy, they can burn their dead ones "directly".
I love the small language oddities that I'm hearing from people. The other day, Kadek told us that while locals enjoy durian fruit, non-locals found the flavor "too narrow". I wonder now if he meant "sharp". The sharp edge of a blade is narrow. I don't know, but I love the phrases and they all do a much better job with English than I am doing with Bahasa or Balinese.
So, off we went to explore the Royal Palace.

---

There was a sign describing preparations for the cremation. I didn't read it, so I'm just going to make everything up for the rest of this photo gallery.

This is really, honestly being made on top of a truck. My hope, of course, is that the body is slid down that slide into a huge flaming cauldron.

Spirit gates in the Royal Palace.

There were loads of artisans working on giant Styrofoam and paper props.

I assume that there will be a huge puppet show as part of the cremation.

And that it will all end in a fiery "Whoomph!"

A paper maché dragon. Or seahorse. Or microscopic organism.

A real treehouse temple in the Royal Palace. THIS is the kind of royalty I can get behind.

More puppets being built for the puppet show I'm imagining.

Smearing epoxy on the puppets so they'll burn "reeeeeallll nice."

Artisans were really doing everything, including cutting out paper lace by hand. It was really amazing to see.

An open air throne in the palace*. Royalty not included, I guess.

Probably where they'll hold the post-cremation BBQ.

More amazing stone work, but with slightly confusing subtext.

A barong to protect the area.

How can you not love these?

Back outside, something amazing and flammable is taking shape. I have no idea what it is. Because I didn't read the sign.

I'm still sort of in awe of how carefree the Balinese people are about things like personal safety. I know that, as an American, we are a bit coddled by our society. Signs warn us that our coffee may be hot and that clothes should not be ironed when you are wearing them, but the people in Bali swing the pendulum hard in the other direction.
Most of the workers we saw creating these elaborate displays were wearing sarongs and flip flops - maybe a shirt, bit rarely anything else. They all smoked as they teetered precariously on homemade bamboo ladders, dangling over busy city streets, cut wood with a power saw in one hand and a board in the other, squatted carelessly 3" from traffic whizzing by as they painted decoration, no doubt using lead paint.
It was sort of refreshing, really.
Our next stop was the Royal Water Temple, just a block or two away. When we tired of watching other people work, we headed off to see the temple, described as an oasis in the bustling streets of Ubud. And possibly it was. The problem was finding it. The gates were huge and clearly visible over the tops of the low buildings (no buildings can be higher than the coconut trees in Bali - true fact!), but try as we did, they seemed to elude us. The streets naturally wanted us to wander down a pedestrian alleyway that was lined with vendors selling cheap Chinese crap. We could not escape their gravity and were sucked in.
"Madam? Sundress?"
"Mister, you need a hat?"
"Madam, you like these huge penis can openers?"
"Mister, do you? I have a 5 pack. Only 50,000."
We wandered down the alleyway, unable to break free of it's thrumming pull. And then we realized that it wasn't actually a pedestrian alleyway. Dozens of motorbikes whizzed by. They were followed by a car that drove through with about 2 inches of clearance on either side. I can't imagine the conversation if the car hit a vendor stall and got all scratched up.
"I'm sorry... a what?"
"It was a 12" wooden penis. It scratched my paint."
"I'm sorry... a what?"
"A wooden penis 12 inches long. Maybe 13."
"I'm going to connect you to my manager, sir."
"Is there a penis deductible on my policy?"
*click*

And, what the hell? A Circle K? Come on, Bali. Get your shit together. You don't need this crap.

As we wandered down the endless alley of vendors, i found a tiny street leading off to the left. It was quiet and tree-lined and, most importantly, totally free form vendors. I dipped in and started walking into what was pretty clearly not a public space.
I went through a small doorway that opened into a beautiful garden. There was a lady making an offering at a temple. When she saw me, she smiled. I smiled and waved and greeted her in Balinese. She smiled more. I pointed to the ground and to myself. "Okay here?"
She nodded. "Yes."
Then she just walked away. There are a lot of things I don't understand about Bali at all, but the people have all been absolutely delightful. I was just losing myself in that reverie when I realized Kerri was nowhere to be seen. Fearing that she was being harangued into buying a 25 pack of penis bottle openers, I raced back to where I had seen her last. She was standing in the shade, enjoying a respite from the brutal sun, and opening 25 bottles with her 25 brand new penis bottle openers.
That is not true.
"You shouldn't be in there," she said. "It looks like someone's yard."
"Yeah. It is," I agreed, "But it's cool. We can go in."
"Who said that?" she asked, peering past me into the decidedly empty garden.
"Some lady," I said.
"What lady?"
"That lady that isn't here any more. Duh."
That was good enough for Kerri. We strolled through the lovely, private garden from which, somehow, against all the laws of physics, not a bit of the nearby traffic could be heard at all. It was a tiny moment of silence in the middle of wooden penis chaos.
We did, after many arduous miles of hiking through a gauntlet of vendors, find the Royal Water Temple. The temple is a sacred place for the royal family and, as such , it is a place of solemn, respectful reverence.
And you get 10% off at the on-site restaurant with the purchase of a ticket!
Who could resist? We bought our tickets and were just putting on our sarongs when a ticket seller informed us that we had to wear THEIR sarongs. in fact, we had to wear an entire outfit. But don't worry, it's all included in the ticket price. AND 10% off at the restaurant!!
Here's the thing...
Bali is a very, very hot country. It's also very humid. As a result, everyone gets sweaty. Very, very sweaty.
And when you are visiting a popular temple and you have to wear the sarong, coat, and headware that they make every visitor wear, if you are not the first person to wear it, you are in for an unpleasant experience involving the sweat of many, many other people. Putting on a coat in that heat is decidedly unpleasant. Putting on a coat that 17 other people have sweated in is even less pleasant.
But there is 10% off at the restaurant to look forward to!

Darn it. I wanted to do some Jazzercise in the 101 degree heat while wearing this sweaty coat.

We look totally local. You have no idea how damp we were in these.

Damp and smelly.

The temple itself was very pretty, but the area where visitors were allowed was quite small.

At a slow, leisurely pace, it took us about 10 minutes to see everything.

And I spent 9 of those 10 minutes checking this awesome thing out. I don't know what it is, but I want one.

Did I mention how hot and sweaty and smelly we were? But, dang, we look great in these!

The temple was almost worth the $3 admission fee and may have been if we had taken advantage of the 10% off coupon.
We peeled off our jackets and hung them back up for the next suckers. A small puddle of sweat pooled under the rack where they hung.
We were stupendously brave (or, possibly stupid) and risked lunch at a small cafe on a side street.

We are still covered in other people's sweat. It is unpleasant. But the food was good!

And they DID have WiFi.

After lunch, we headed to the Ubud Art Market. Something we had both been looking forward to since we started planning this trip. It is a place where artisans from all over Bali sell their traditional wares. We were really excited.
For about 2 minutes.

vaguely I'm not going to dwell on this, but the Ubud Art Market was just another version of the street vendors that are everywhere in Bali. Rather than selling handmade crafts, they were selling the exact same cheap plastic crap that was for sale everywhere else. It was rows and rows and aisles and aisles of cramped stalls. Vendors were sort of like carnival automatons. When we passed by, they popped to life.
"You want umbrella, madam?"
"Hey, Boss. Bintang t-shirt? Cheap!"
It must be a brutal, soul-sucking way to make a living. It was really sort of heart-breaking to see how many vendors had young children with them, spending all day, every day trying to sell trinkets.

Slightly disappointed, we headed back to the car. On the way there, I saw a small sign for a library that pointed down a dark alley.
I ask you, WHO COULD RESIST??
Not me, baby.
It was a library AND guesthouse! How cool is that?
It was at the end of a long, winding alley, but the library itself was a delightful open-air place with lots of books and a big space for events. When we wandered through, there was one lady being given a lesson in traditional Balinese dancing. We stood and watched just long enough to make her uncomfortable and then we headed back to the parking lot where Ari/Dego/Kadek 2.0 was waiting.

Back at the villa after a very long day, we had a few cocktails and practiced snorkeling in the pool; a totally classic combination. Drinks and diving. We've gone native with regard to safety. Ayu made us a delicious dinner of tofu curry with egg, gado gado, chicken sausages steamed in banana leaves, pork, rice, and sambal. It was delicious.
There was a gorgeous sunset and great view of Mt. Agung over the rice fields across the street.

After dinner, I went for a walk down the road. It was the first time I'd walked down the street where the villa was located. There were far more houses along the road than I realized, including several that were being built. The new homes were villas for tourists and the construction workers were mostly migrant workers from Java. They live in the houses as they're building them.
Once again, I was treated to delighted smiles and friendly greetings by everyone I passed. Except for the tiny calf that was wandering on the side of the road. He didn't say hello, but he mooed in a friendly way. It wasn't the sort of moo that would make me run off and abandon my laundry in the middle of the road.
But I may have solved that mystery.
On my walk, I kept hearing a voice talking very loudly in the distance. At first, I thought it may be someone having a fight in a house. Raised voices are VERY rude in Bali, so that didn't seem too likely. Then I thought it was some loud, obnoxious radio show, like the Balinese equivalent of Rush Limbaugh or something. Even more unlikely.
The noise grew louder and louder. I eventually realized it was a van with a huge Blues Brothers-style speaker attached to the top with a rubber band and some old gum or something.
The driver was barking into the microphone about...
The cheap plastic crap that his van was full of.
The vendors are mobile.
Abandon your laundry and RUN!