Our First Year: Everywhere

Use What Comes Naturally

About two months ago, at the entrance to a side street in Ubud, a truck delivered two large piles of bright orange bricks. Residents of the neighborhood stacked them neatly and tightly together in two tall, rectangular piles.

A few days later, a group of teenage boys came with power tools and chisels. Slowly, the two stacks of bricks became two beautiful statues - one of a goddess and the other of a mythical warrior. Emily and I have watched the statues develop each time we worked at Tutmak, the cafe directly across the street. The bright orange figures now guard the entrance to the neighborhood.

It was just a pile of bricks made of vibrant orange clay. The Balinese use these on temples, palaces and nowadays on the homes of those who can afford it. After all, the goal is to eventually make your family compound look like a temple.

Everyday, Emily and I see ordinary looking objects turn into art. We live next to a stone carving village and we can hear the guys across the road constantly working on their statues. We see the large blocks of stone arrive and eventually become the Ganeshas, vases and spiritual guardian statues that sit along the roadside.

Bali is all about seeing the art in the stone.

Diana and Jacob took a cooking class earlier this week and came back raving about all that they learned. Their teacher emphasized that the mortars and pestles the Balinese use are always made of volcanic rock. No other material will do.

Our house has stone tiled bathrooms, ceramic floors, a stone covered facade, and wood interior doors. The entire house sits on a natural stone slab foundation. The compound has cut stone walls, wood and thatch gazebos and magnificent gardens with stone walkways. The furniture is mostly pure teak.

The Balinese make extensive use of the natural materials of their island. It affects every aspect of life from how they crush their garlic to the facade of their homes.

Although it's not news to me now, it took me some time after I started living here in 2004 to figure out just what it was about my house in Bali that I loved so much better than the gorgeous condo in which my friends/colleagues and I lived and worked in Singapore.

We rented a four bedroom, three bath, two story, 2100 square foot penthouse condo with high ceilings, spiral staircase, hardwood and tile floors, granite counters and incredible plush furniture. It had every amenity one could want. We were living the Singaporean dream.

But I couldn't sleep well and it never felt like home. It was somehow, despite having every trapping one could desire, not a place I wanted to live in long-term. In fact, when the lease was up and we had downsized the business, I moved into a smaller two bedroom, two bath condo in a slightly more central area of town. Again, it was a fantastic place and easily the nicest apartment in which I've ever lived. And again, I always found that I never rested as well as I did in Bali.

My house in Bali had an all-wood upstairs and my bedroom was cool, dark and made entirely of teak - with a thatched roof. I slept like a baby there. Of course every time I left for the airport to fly back to Singapore, I wondered what I was doing. I had an active business that was very exciting - but I never enjoyed leaving Bali and the house I considered my home.

Something about natural materials and a natural environment changes the way I feel. Many of my friends and visitors who came to both places noticed the same thing.

Over time, I've come to notice and appreciate just how much our environment affects us - right down to the materials from which our walls and floors are made. I'm sure there are architects, interior designers and ecologists who will read these words and offer a well educated, "Duh...."

The crazy part is that I don't think the average American without an education in building materials, an interest in art or a personal drive toward zen ever give this much thought.

To the Balinese, nature is second nature...if not first. They use what they have and it turns out to be beautiful, natural and grounding. Jacob kept commenting how much the Balinese are "one with the Earth." That's because they're living in it - in their walls, decorations, plates, bowls and spice grinders.

In America, we build large tracts of houses and tall condo blocks of stucco, sheet rock, cement, linoleum, pergo, carpet, plaster, asbestos, aluminum siding, and steel. That's not to say that we don't have some wood, bricks and stone mixed in - and of course some people have a lot of the natural stuff than others.

However, natural materials, let alone natural environment just aren't our emphasis. Given costs in America, it would be hard to change that. Between the materials, transportation and labor costs, building a house of stone and wood would cost a fortune - and in California it wouldn't be up to earthquake code. Let's face it, our houses are expensive enough with the materials we have.

Still, it's hard for me not to wonder if we've somehow gotten off track. We have become removed from the Earth. Something in us longs for it. It's why we love beaches, mountains, gardens, rivers, skies, rocks and even house plants. How many people look at a crystal clear lake or the sparkling blue of the Mediterranean and go, "Yuck" ?

Whether by design or default, the Balinese have figured out something important. It's one of the elements of the magic of Bali.

Natural materials and surroundings subtly resonate within us. Something about them is calming, grounding and healthy. Even when they're in the form of a guardian goddess made from a pile of red clay bricks.

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Mavens, Kingdoms And Appreciation

"Which kingdom are we in?" Jacob asked.

We were headed down one of my favorite roads in Bali that runs through the gorgeous rice-scaped village of Kemenuh, across a giant river glen and into the larger village of Sukawati. We were just entering Sukawati at the time which is about halfway to the beach town of Sanur.

"I'm not sure.... I think we're still in Gianyar. But we're close to Denpasar. We haven't passed through any kingdom gates, so I think we're still in Gianyar...." I said in much the same way as someone discusses how many miles to the next gas station.

"I love that you pass through gates!" Jacob said.

Sometimes I forget just how special that is. You always know where you are because you pass through stone and brick gates for every kingdom, district and village. Kingdom gates are always the biggest and many are the times I have been happy to see the gates of Gianyar - our kingdom.

We were on the way to the Bukit Peninsula and the Uluwatu Temple so that Diana and Jacob could have a daytime view of the gorgeous cliffside wonder before going to the nearby airport. Their visit lasted just over a week - a very brief time for Bali. The time flew by.

Diana and Jacob made the most of it. They saw almost every sight and attraction of worth on the island and did many cool activities. They saw four of the island's most important temples, both north and south shores, took a cooking class, had a morning of water sports, enjoyed many massages and spa treatments and saw two Balinese dance performances.

Jacob - a professional cellist and music teacher - took a two hour gamelan lesson. I think for him, that was one of the most special and powerful experiences he had. The gamelan is a unique and instrument so few westerners ever touch, let alone learn how to play. It didn't take much for Jacob's talented, genius brain to begin wrapping itself around the strangely melodic percussive instrument.

When we watched a show featuring several styles of Balinese dances last night at the Lotus Temple in Ubud, it was clear that Jacob had a new eye and ear for the mystical instrument. He pointed out how the ladies of the gamelan orchestra played perfectly without sheet music or a conductor. Jacob had a deep appreciation of them.

That was perhaps the most wonderful aspect of Jacob and Diana's stay - their appreciation for Bali and the Balinese people. As so many people are when they explore Bali - Diana and Jacob were amazed by the art, culture and approach to life.

However, I think they took it a step further and really considered all the details and little things that are part of the Bali experience - right down to the pervasive use of double flush toilets and way the Balinese use only volcanic rock mortars and pestles in their cooking.

There's nothing so wonderful as people who have appreciation and gratitude for those who don't in any way demand or require it.

Over our last dinner, we all discussed how important it is to take the opportunities we're afforded when we can. Just like this year came together for Emily and I because a combination of factors and circumstances lining up just perfectly, Diana and Jacob recognized that the opportunity to come to Bali when Emily and I were here was one they didn't want to pass up.

Being two self employed people, it's very difficult for them to set aside a large block of time and to give up income to travel. We're grateful to them for doing it because it was so fun and enjoyable for us. We take it as a gift.

We all discussed how life offers no promises of tomorrow. We can't assume that there will be another moment, another opportunity to chase after a dream. Although I believe life has no shortage of possibilities and opportunities, certain ones have shelf-lives. You can't always do what you think you will later in life. Our finances, relationships, circumstances and bodies change. We like to think they're all constants or at least somewhat within our control - but they're not.

Diana and Jacob bravely seized an opportunity and in so doing created treasures - memories for themselves, and a memory we will all have to share among ourselves forever. That's wealth.

After some time staring out at the Indian Ocean from the cliffs of Uluwatu, a lunch of traditional Balinese food, and heartfelt, warm goodbyes at the airport departure curb, I headed "home" to my beautiful wife to resume our "normal" life without guests.

Just as I passed through the gates of Gianyar, I noticed that the car ahead of me was a Mitsubishi Maven. It was like an act of the divine. After three weeks of driving two sets of our beloved guests around the tight, curvy, crazy roads of Bali, I realized everyone in Bali needs a driving maven. Oy.

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The Life Of A Child

In 90 degree weather with about 90 percent humidity, a woman walked down the main street of Ubud and crossed the road with her adorable baby boy in arms. He was dressed in a one piece, hooded, furry tiger outfit and caught the adoration of just about everyone on that block.

Then the logical question immediately followed. How is that kid not baking in that furry tiger outfit?! Oddly, he seemed as cool as cucumber and his mom appeared to be very together and competent. It's one of those moments when you chalk it up to Balinese magic and move on.

What made it so easy is that the kid was clearly well care for and loved.

In the course of our journey which has taken us three quarters of the way around the world, we think and talk a lot about children. In many ways, Emily and I evaluate a society largely on how children are cared for and treated. It's sort of a moral bottom-line. You can screw with the environment, pay poor wages, have religious strife and political instability - but there's really nothing more important than the treatment of children.

Today on my way home from town, I saw an adorable six year-old boy with his arms wrapped in full embrace around his father's back as they headed down the bumpy road to the village next to our house on their motorcycle. Both the kid and his dad were smiling and happy.

Although my mother who campaigned for child seatbelt and car seat laws in California when I was a little kid would plotz if she saw a six year old on a motorcycle - without a helmet no less.... I wasn't bothered. Yeah, I wish he had a helmet - they have kids' helmets. I also wish there weren't kids on motorcycles. It's dangerous. My mother would be 100 percent right in her shock and concern.

Only for most Balinese, a low-powered motorcycle is as much personal transportation as they can afford. It's the family car and they often manage to fit two parents and three little kids on one bike. But I can't fault them for it - it's their best option given their resources. I also haven't seen any frightened kids. Usually, they seem smiling, happy and generally more comfortable on a motorcycle than any adult from home who has ever visited me.

In fact, I would say that overall, Balinese kids - and adults - seem pretty happy.

Emily learned a few weeks back that Balinese kids go to school Monday through Saturday from 8:00 until 1:00. She asked what the kids do after school - ready to hear that they go home and work or do chores for their families.

"They play, of course," said the Balinese man with whom she was talking. The Balinese believe that kids should have a large part of their days free to play and be kids.

It's hard to argue with this.

Maybe they have this view because children don't remain children for very long. People become parents as young as 16 - although I'd venture to guess than 18-20 is more standard these days. Often, I see families where the parents look far too young to know how to be parents. Then I remind myself that I see things through my cultural prism. Besides, people usually live in family compounds where grandparents, aunts and uncles are all part of raising every child. At village ceremonies, I have often seen grandparents holding and walking with little kids while parents participate in the day's events.

Not all Balinese kids live a charmed life. Public school here requires families to pay tuition at a rate generally considered reasonable and affordable - 40,000 rupiah per month or $4.60. Unfortunately, not every family - especially families with a lot of kids - can afford this. That's why our housekeeper, Nengah only went to school for one year of his life and his younger cousin, Ketut who used to work as the gardner in our compound, never went to school at all. Despite it, their families took on the task of teaching them to read and write. Amazingly, poverty did not result in illiteracy.

Still, in the spectrum of what's out there, I would give the Balinese a very high rating on how they treat children. Kids are loved and given ample opportunity to have fun, happy lives.

Sure, their lives aren't as enriched as the kids of middle-class America who get shuttled around to sports, music lessons and scout meetings. Then again, kids here learn music and art as taught to them by their elders and through their religion.

Unfortunately, not every child gets to read, write, play or go to school, let alone learn music and art. India and Nepal can break your heart - especially as children are concerned. In Mumbai - a city with tremendous modernization, upward mobility and wealth - we were constantly bothered by the homelessness. The strange part was that there were far fewer homeless than either of us expected. They didn't have the level of mass destitution and squalor we saw in Delhi - and assumed we would find in Mumbai.

It was the children that made it so heart wrenching. Los Angeles and every major city in America has its homeless, destitute and poor. We can't claim to be an enlightened society that has figured out how to cure some of the worst social ills. But we rescue children. I have never in my life seen a child or infant on the streets, hungry and poor. Our police are obligated to help children on the streets and we have government services to help children. Perhaps our foster care system and orphanages aren't as good as they should be - but children are not destitute and hungry.

In India, people walk past the children of the untouchables.

In different parts of India and Nepal, Emily and I struggled with the issues of child labor, begging and exploitation. We agonized over whether giving money to children helped them, or contributed to their exploitation. Just like "Slumdog Millionaire," there are kids maimed and sent out to beg as part of begging rings. It's the most horrible thing.
This isn't to say that Indians treat their children poorly. There are families at all economic strata that treasure their children. There are families who pay whatever they must to send their children to good schools and universities - even if it means parents go without any comforts or luxuries. We saw many Indian families who treated their children like precious gems.

It's easy to look past the wonderful when the bad is so horrific.

If I had to pick a place where children are treated the best - at least for this trip - it's Greece. Greek families love their children. Being naturally warm people, Greeks give lots of affection and celebrate the little ones most of all.

Nicholas, our studio-owner in Patmos was the proud father of a six year-old girl. Nicholas and his wife were almost done raising two sons when they had an unexpected late in life pregnancy. Anastasia might as well be their grandchild the way they dote on her and shower her with attention and affection. Anastasia began kindergarten this year and every day, Nicholas takes her to school, drives back to check on her at lunch time and then picks her up only a couple of hours later.

While Nicholas and his wife might be extreme examples, we saw families around town and at community events on four different islands, showering their children with love and attention. At a concert on Patmos, I sat near one family where a young uncle was clearly the kids' favorite. He spent the entire concert entertaining them so that his brother and pregnant sister-in-law could enjoy the show. It was clear he didn't mind it one bit.

In the end, there's no right way to raise kids and not that many wrong ways - but perhaps some universally wrong and bad things people do to them.

Emily and I try not to be judgmental. We try to see cultures within their context - which means trying to understand them first. As we do - and as we play the inevitable and unavoidable game we love so much of comparing and contrasting the things we've seen in our travels - we come back to children time and time again.

When I see a kid wedged between her parents on the family scooter heading down a bumpy road or a family bathing naked in a Balinese aqueduct stream - or the backwaters of Kerala for that matter - I wonder how much I'll ever really understand the lives of those children. I wonder if they're better off than the average American child or not. I wonder what the definition of a good childhood is. And I hope they are having one.

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Nine Months

Yesterday marked two important milestones - our nine month anniversary and our trip being 75 percent complete. I chose to focus on the anniversary because it's more romantic and fun. The idea of being down to only three months left of the trip made us both a little sad.

It shouldn't, though. We have been very blessed with the gift of time passing slowly. To our great amazement, we have felt every part of this experience. It hasn't rushed by us. It hasn't been a blur. Although sometimes the days seem to go by quickly, when we look back, it doesn't feel like time has slipped through our fingers.

Thailand, for example, seems so very long ago even though we were there last month. Nepal feels so distant, although we were there in November and the beginning of our trip in Alanya, Turkey feels like a lifetime ago.

We have savored every moment and everything we've done.

This journey is a gift we have given ourselves - along with the special help of our families, friends and especially the friends who have taken in our dogs - and we have made the most of it.

Each place, each experience and each moment has added to our lives. We have spent these past nine months creating memories we'll enjoy for the rest of our lives.

Just as fantastically, Emily and I have learned so much - individually and as a couple. We tend not to emphasize it, but it takes some skill to make careers and jobs on the road work. We have to budget our time and adapt to technological challenges and differences in each place we travel. There are always little problems and glitches to solve.

At first, they were stressful - particularly to Emily who doesn't have much patience for technological problems and who was very anxious about it at first. Then it was particularly stressful to me because I become particularly stressed and anxious when Emily becomes particularly stressed and anxious.

At the beginning, it was on my shoulders to be the technical problem solver. Over time, Emily has become more adept and relaxed and we have systems and methods for managing the inevitable problems.

Emily has become masterful at working abroad and on the move. She has incredible organizational skills and multitasks so well that she gets amazing reviews from students - sometimes in the 99th percentile, well above her faculty peers. No one knows she's trying to answer their questions and grade their papers as quickly as possible so she can get out to the beach, a massage or a flight from Istanbul to Delhi.

We have both learned to be flexible. Sometimes things take longer than we'd like. Sometimes it's not easy to get our work done on the timeline we had imagined. We work early, at night or on the weekend to make up from unavoidable changes to our schedules. We have become highly adaptable and much more resourceful than we started.

Environment matters. We face this lesson again and again. Here in Bali despite the occasional technical glitch, we're relaxed. We get up early, we work happily and our lives sail along with the smoothness of the Balinese breeze. In the relative scheme of things, Bali is developed - at least sufficiently for our needs. We want for nothing except the people we love.

On the dark, cold nights of Kathmandu when power outages and communications systems failures were as plentiful as trash on the ground - things were hard. We were edgy and tense. Life was hard for us, but much harder on Nepalis.

Similarly, the cold, gray mornings of Istanbul in October made it hard to get out of bed and we were in no hurry to get out the hotel door. Yet we enjoyed Istanbul completely and technologically, it was one of our best stops.

I know already that Singapore, our next destination, will not be as relaxed and nurturing as Bali. In fact, I expect to be mourning Bali. At the same time, I believe we will do well in Singapore. With its mind boggling social and political construction and its fantastic infrastructure and resources - it's the kind of environment in which we do well. If Singapore is anything, it's easy.

More than the tricks of working, traveling and discovering how places affect us, Emily and I continue to discover each other. Sometimes issues arise. There are many times we have to stop and listen to one another. There are moments we come to learn what the other really needs and what isn't important. Not only do we deal with the typical issues that married couples face as they tackle life together, but we are with each other constantly - in a way very few people ever are.

We try to maintain ourselves and each being independent, healthy individuals - and at the same time, we invest a lot into being a strong team.

If the past nine months have taught me anything, it's that Emily and I really are able to work together through whatever life brings. We have an unwavering commitment to making decisions and taking actions that work for both of us. Sometimes it's difficult to figure out what those actions and choices are - but we're each only happy when we're both happy. That's why we never lose sight of our goal.

The skill that has taken the most developing is learning to help each other see things differently. We're both intelligent, headstrong, opinionated people. This makes us challenging. We're also people who like to learn and hate the idea of being obtuse or shortsighted, especially when it comes to how we impact others. This is where we find opportunities to succeed. Throughout this trip, we have had to learn how to change each other's perceptions - how to enlighten one another and how to break through the paradigms and viewpoints that don't always work to our advantages. We each have our tricks to helping the other take a new view. But the key is that we help the other. We try to build each other up, push each other forward and make one another aware. It's not always easy - but I believe we are successful.

We know that we always have each other's interests at heart. We can always trust one another. We're on the same team. Most importantly, we don't hate each other. On a long trip, that's really important.

I can't say why, but marriage is different than living together. A year of travel is definitely different than living together.

In three months, we'll have to take all the things we've learned, about ourselves and each other, and apply them to the world from whence we came. It's the hero's journey - and it's one we've each made on our own before. Now we're doing it together.

In some ways, this trip has been a huge boon for our marriage. We have every opportunity to focus on each other and go through situation after situation in which we learn how to work together and make each other happy.

When we get home, we'll have to learn to do the same thing in the face of our friends, family, dogs, schedules, more intense work lives, errands and the demands of Los Angeles life.

I venture to say we've built the skills to do it with ease. After all, if you can talk your way into one of the few hotels in Kathmandu with a generator and 1Mbps Internet connection, make friends with most of the vendors in your neighborhood in Bangkok, navigate the roads of Bali and successfully visit and leave a cult ashram in India - then you have most of the skills you need to survive in Los Angeles.

Of course, we have three more months and even more countries in which we can learn a few new tricks. I know we'll savor every moment - abroad, with each other and for the rest of our lives.

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Tanah Lot And Eat A Lot - A Balinese Sunday

After two days in Bali, Diana observed that at home, people decorate with paintings and photos of distant beautiful places like Hawaii and Paris. In Bali, all the artwork is of Bali.

"I guess you don't need pictures of other places when you're already in Paradise!" she said.

However, the Balinese aren't content with the natural beauty of their island. They like to create beauty offset by Bali's beauty. The 15th century priest Danghyang Nirartha decided to use some of Bali's most striking places to form the backdrops of the great temples he designed.

He positioned his two masterpieces, Tanah Lot and Uluwatu on the cliffs of Bali's southern shores so that muslim sailors passing by would see the grand temples and know Bali was a Hindu island.

Niratha was one of the brilliant, artistic minds the Majaphit royalty took with them from Java. As Islam took hold of Java and the Hindu rulers were forced out, they fled to neighboring Bali bringing their culture of music and art with them. The Majaphits and Niratha transformed Bali into a Hindu island filled with architectural treasures.

On a lazy Sunday after a fantastic organic brunch in the middle of Ubud's rice fields along the Tjampuhan River, Jacob, Diana, Emily and I set out for Tanah Lot, located in the Kingdom of Tabanan on Bali's southwest coast.

The drive from Ubud to Tanah Lot is unassuming. We passed along small roads through a series of indescript villages. However, the closer we got to Tanah Lot, the better the scenery as eventually the small road runs is completely surrounded by unending rice terraces cascading all the way down to the sea. Many of them were being harvested and Jacob and Diana were able to see the browner stages of rice farming as well as the hard labor that goes into scything the fields and separating the grains from the stalks.

Entering the Tanah Lot complex is like arriving at Disneyland. Cars and buses pull up to multiple lanes of toll booths where they pay entrance and parking fees before finding their spots in any one of sections A through L.

Throughout the parking lot and pathways leading down to the temple entrance are rows upon rows of shops and food stands. With people walking the streets eating freshly roasted ears of corn and sipping fresh juice drinks, it felt very much like an amusement park - until we entered the temple gates.

Tanah Lot is a huge complex with several small temples along the sea cliffs. The largest and holiest of them is on a large rock cut off from the mainland by the tide. Worshipers and priests can either cross by foot at low tide or take a small boat at their peril.

While the temple structure itself isn't as ornate or large as Uluwatu on Bali's southern tip or even Ulun Danu at the volcanic lake in Bedugul, the way the temple meshes with the incredible giant trees and the rock itself is breathtaking. Niratha had staircases, steps and a place to dock boats carved right into the rock.

With the roaring, crashing waves and unending sea sea behind it, Tanah Lot puts on a show 24 hours a day. It is one of Bali's great sites and a phenomenal piece of Balinese cultural achievement.

While admiring the temple, both couples walked hand in hand, admired the views, the incredibly manicured grounds and felt the magic and wonder of Balinese culture.

The one point of sadness was a sign at the entrance of the temple acknowledging and thanking the government of Japan for it's generous aid in preserving Tanah Lot by establishing defenses against large waves. It was a sadly ironic moment and a reminder of how linked we all are.

After a great Sunday brunch and an architectural and spiritual wonder, the next step was obvious - get massages. We all headed back to Ubud where we got various spa treatments to see just how far four people in Bali can unwind on a Sunday.

And then we did what we all do best - eat. My favorite meal in Bali, too - Cafe Wayan's Sunday night buffet of traditional Balinese festival foods. It also happens to be Jacob's most memorable meal from his previous visit here and so good that it also got its very own blog entry. So, we'll leave it at that.

Except to say that at the end of a busy, fun and relaxing weekend in Bali, we're still having fun. We continue to catch up, learn about each other, enjoy each other's company and laugh. And that's the real paradise.

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Bottom To Top In 24 Hours

The two best phrases of the last 24 hours have been "Congratulations on paying off your car, we'll be mailing your title to you in 10 days." and "It smells like sweet diarrhea!"

The first phrase means my Saab is all mine (or ours now, since I made a vow that everything I have or ever will have is Emily's - but she can't drive a stick, so it's still really mine). The second is Diana's shockingly accurate description of the smell of durian left from a passing durian truck.

Both were music to my ears. I've been waiting a long time for both the title to my car and a way to succinctly describe durian. Triumph!

These choice phrases, have been part of a tremendously busy time. In the course of 24 hours we've seen Bali top to bottom. From a Fire and Kecak Dance at the Uluwatu temple on the island's southernmost tip to the black shores of north Bali it has been gorgeous place after gorgeous place.

A Fire and Kecak dance is one of Bali's most unique art forms. Instead of using the traditional gamelan orchestra and drums, a chorus of men provide rhythmic dance music with their voices. Some are timekeepers with their constant, brief "ooh, ooh, ooh," while others make the fast repetitive "ke...chak...a chak a chak a chak."

An incredible Balinese dance with intricate costumes takes place around a specially designed pillar of flames, inside the circle formed by the vocal orchestra. A story from the Ramayana depicting Laksamana and Rama's rescue of Sita unfolds as the characters occasionally interact with the vocal orchestra.

The dance itself is unique enough, but the backdrop of sun setting over the ocean as seen from the high cliffs of the Uluwatu Temple makes it spectacular. It's impossible to decide which spectacle is more worth of your attention - the dance or the dazzling sunset.

After dusk arrived and the dance ended, we took Jacob and Diana to the beach at Jimbaran Bay where fisherman bring their fresh seafood daily and a long row of restaurants with tables on the beach barbecue it nightly. Jimbaran not only offers the pleasure of dining on the beach with a view of all of southwestern Bali, but it's a fantastic deal. For a mere $24, Emily and I enjoyed a platter of barbecued mixed seafood, side dishes, two beers and fruit for dessert.

After a long day of beach-going, swimming and snacking at Ku De Ta, an incredible sunset dance and seafood on the beach, we were spent. When we arrived home after the hour drive home, everyone was ready to collapse, knowing we had a big day ahead of us. Diana and Jacob in particular had sustained sunburns and needed the rest.

Today, after breakfast and some work time for Emily, we headed out to do "the loop" - the highlights of central and northern Bali all packed into one day.

Up to the magnificent Tamun Ayun temple - once the family temple for the kings of Mengwi - on to the Ulun Danu Temple on holy Bratan Lake, situated below a volcano. Jacob had loved Ulun Danu when he visited in 2005 and he told Diana how he had always wanted to share it with her. They had a romantic tour around one of Bali's prettiest temples while a ceremony took place in the inner sanctuary.

Ulun Danu actually goes into the lake itself and is accented by incredibly sculpted manicured grounds. It's hard to imagine that people could build and design things so ornate in the early 1600s. The temple is among Bali's seven greatest.

In the cool air of the volcanic mountains, we continued up the road to Banyuatis and my favorite coffee plantation. We enjoyed lunch, laughter and what besides Emily is the most breathtaking view in Bali. From our table, we could see the coffee plantations filling the hills below with sculpted rice terraces and spice growing regions below them, rolling out to Bali's black sand north shore.

After lunch and the obligatory coffee making tour, everyone piled into the car and braced themselves to enjoy the gorgeous ride down the hill to the ocean while I navigated the car through the constant dangers of narrow, bumpy Balinese roads. The one that leads down the hill from Banyuatis is extra narrow and managed to have Diana gasping most of the way down.

Unfortunately, down on the north shore we realized we were running out of daylight. We had taken our time at each stop and started a bit later than would have been ideal. So, we stopped in at the Banjar Holy Hot Springs only for a quick peak before heading to Singaraja and then back into the mountains for the long, windy ride home.

As dark fell in the mountains, the only difficult part of the journey began. Dark, windy, low light roads with crazy Balinese driving makes for a hard night ride. My passengers were a bit nervous and stressed as I stayed focused and made frequent use of my second gear and horn. Honking is often the only way to alert people you're turning a blind curve.

The harrowing drive was successful and dinner and drinks at favorite Ubud restaurant Three Monkeys was the perfect way to de-stress.

Although today's sights were new only for Diana, they remain - I think to Emily, Jacob and me - just as enjoyable each time. Bali's center and north are the island's quiet, gorgeous heart.

With a lot of driving, snacking and perseverance, our group managed to see Bali from both ends and the center of Bali in a day. Emily and I continue to proudly deliver our crash course in Baliology.

More importantly, the time along the way was filled with fun, laughter, music and the occasional whiff of sweet diarrhea.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Balinese Breeze

As the 10 foot waves form a perfect curl on their way to the southern Bali shore, I realize the season has changed. March through May is my favorite time of year in Bali - the breezy season.

It came a little late. Our previous guests still saw some heavy gray and serious rains. But sometime last weekend, there was a shift. The days became sunnier for longer. We had our first day without any rain. Since then, it rains 20 minutes a day at most with glorious sunshine most of the time.

Today, sitting at Ku De Ta with Jacob and Diana, enjoying fine food, great music, comfortable lounge chairs and the splendor of the Seminyak beach, I am also enjoying a distinctly Balinese breeze (great name for a cocktail if anyone wants to steal that one).

Balinese breezes are gentle. They come in and caress you. They move the air to break up the heat and dissipate the humidity. Best of all, they lift Balinese kites high into the sky.

Of all the various arts and crafts in Bali, kites are perhaps the most practical. Beautiful, large winged birds of many bright colors soar in the sky. As the winds pick up and the rains subside, kites fill Balinese airspace because they help with rice farming - they're scarecrows.

Birds fear the large "birds of prey" above and leave the sprouting rice grains alone. When the harvesting squads work the ripened fields, the beautiful, ornate, multicolored kites give them relief. They have less clapping and yelling to keep their precious harvest safe.

While it's hard to imagine Bali being more colorful than it is normally, the kites fill the skies with new levels of brightness. They are like flags, raised to announce and celebrate the season.

So it is that in this most glorious time of the Balinese year, with our fun and enjoyable guests, we're celebrating a breezy Balinese Friday with lunch and lounging at my favorite restaurant and lifestyle experience in Bali - followed by a sunset Kecak and Fire dance at the Ulu Watu temple and a seafood dinner on the beach of Jimbaran Bay.

Balinese weeks are grueling. Our lives are hard. We have to do something to live it up....

Besides, a Balinese breeze is not something to be wasted. I have to go take a dip in the pool now....

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White Duck, Brown Field

There was one white duck among them. As I rode along my favorite narrow, windy road into town - the one that goes through small villages and even more gorgeous rice fields than the average, I noticed the flock - all Balinese brown except the one. Although I find ducks to often look a little confused, the white duck looked a little more confused than the others.

I didn't have any time for an in-depth observation or sociological interview with the ducks, but it appeared the Balinese brown ducks were fine with their white friend who joined them in the business of field cleaning.

One of my very favorite aspects of Balinese culture is the ducks in the fields. After the Balinese harvest rice fields, they use ducks to clean out the loose stalks, bugs and lost rice grain. Because they're ducks, they never figure out that their happy little jobs is just preparation for their final role as bebek betutu - Balinese smoked duck.

So it was that when I observed the unknowingly condemned working their field today, I thought how much that flock represents life in Bali.

Of all the places we've been - and all the places I have ever been aside from home - only Bali has people coming from the other side of the world wanting a piece of what the much poorer locals have. There are a lot of white people here somewhat confusedly chasing the tails of a brown flock.

"Man, the Balinese - they've got it down!" Jacob said last night as we explored the two beautiful private bungalows behind the Gaya gallery and restaurant where we had dinner.

Gaya is a building one could only find in Bali. The giant, two story stone and wood building houses a large, beautiful, contemporary art gallery downstairs and an incredibly beautiful, elegant but relaxed restaurant upstairs with an amazing view of a river glen below. The menu's elegant description of the meals includes the world gustatory several times - and deservedly so.

The art, furnishings, landscape, view and design of the Gaya bungalows exemplified everything right with the Balinese approach to esthetics. Nothing was too expensive. It wasn't the American and European tendency to create a sense of awe through extravagance and grandeur. It was artistic style - pure and simple - employing the many beautiful local materials including stone and teak.

In that moment, Jacob wanted - as so many westerners have including me - a piece of the magic of Bali.

Bali is a beautiful island. Its gentle air with wafts of enchanting fragrances are captivating. But it's still just a beautiful tropical island. It's magic is in its unusual and very talented people. While so many island and tropical cultures in general are content to live off the land and take it easy, the Balinese have a strangely industrious aspect to them.

For more than a thousand years, they have built giant, ornate temples complete with immaculate landscaping. Balinese homes are large compounds with several buildings and ornate, large family temples in the center. Often, behind shabby looking stores and businesses lie incredibly detailed, beautiful family compounds. They don't care how their little restaurant, laundry or grocery store looks - it's the family compound that matters.

They pursue every form of art under the sun including dance, music, wood carving, stone carving, painting, ceramics, and fabric art.

After a week in Bali and more than one day sightseeing with a driver, Emily's mom, Susan asked the driver, "Is there anyone in Bali who's not an artist?"

"No, everyone's an artist. I'm an artist too. I paint."

It seems almost gimmicky to a skeptic. But a few weeks ago, Emily and I saw first hand how true that is. Before the Nyepi, the Balinese New Year every village made their ogoh-ogohs - giant paper mache demons - to parade and burn in a ritual ceremony. We watched as in a week to 10 days, every village erected at least two and sometimes up to six, 20 to 30 foot tall ogoh-ogohs.

And they were each and everyone splendid works of art. In every single village. We watched as groups of villagers worked on them and in the villages with several ogoh-ogohs under construction, they had teams assigned to each detailed and vivid demon. There's no famous ogoh-ogoh artist or maker who they contract to do them. People - especially teenage boys - just volunteer to be on the ogoh-ogoh committee. From concept to execution, they take about two weeks.

Indeed, they all are artists.

Just as interestingly, the Balinese don't seem to adopt the Western emphasis on material wealth and achievement. Again, I haven't done extensive sociological interviews, but in my years here and my many encounters, interchanges and observations, I have come to conclude that there are a lot of happy Balinese who are very happy with what they have.

There is no shame in working a rice field. There is no shame in being a waitress or a bell hop - in fact, they are often regarded as good jobs. There doesn't seem to be a jealously for the large houses expats have here. I'm not sure they see them as better than their family compounds. I haven't met many young Balinese who would even think of moving out of the family compound and buying their own home. It would break the traditions and togetherness. Ours is not a lifestyle that is necessarily desirable to them.

That's not to say Balinese don't like nice cell phones, televisions and cars. Financially successful Balinese have iPhones. There are a few Mercedes and BMWs floating around the island. I'd be shocked if the owner of our compound doesn't have some very big flat-screen TVs on his walls.

The difference is that it doesn't seem to be the goal. Having the car and the TV isn't necessarily living "the dream". It's just enjoying luxuries. In places like India, China, Nepal and even Taiwan, I met people who want my life. They want to be American. They want my opportunities and access to a better life and lifestyle. They want to get to the promised land.

Often, they want to befriend me to see if there's some way I can help them. In Nepal, it was rare to meet a Nepali who didn't ask if there was some way we could get them a visa to America.

I have never met a Balinese who asked me for anything more than my agreement to buy their goods or services. No one has ever heard I'm American and said something like "Oh, very rich country" like most of the Indians did, or "I have always wanted to go to America!" like Nepalis and many Thais. I have never heard, "Can you help me get a job in America?" or "How can I get to America?" like the friends and family of my Filipino nurse recruits did in Singapore.

As anyone who has ever dated knows, there's something very attractive about self-confidence and an absence of neediness. Mix that with Balinese passion and knack for art and the beauty of the island - at least the north and central parts - and it's practically a love potion for foreign visitors. So many end up wanting a piece of such an attractive way of life.

When white ducks want in on the rice field, the brown ducks don't seem surprised. They're also not extremely interested either.

Sometimes, when I look at Balinese villages and their complete lack of interest - positive or negative - in foreigners, I can see why it must have been difficult for the Dutch to colonize Bali. I can imagine the first Dutch explorers landing, asking to see the King of Singaraja, being brought to him, only to have his first words be,

"Hello. Where do you come from? Where is that? Okay, we have a ceremony now. So maybe you can put on a sarong here and wait for a few minutes while we go to the temple. Later, you can join us for rice, sate and vegetables. Okay? Thank you."

The Balinese are neither in favor nor against change and development. They are strangely aware of the world, but somewhat uninterested in it, as it doesn't offer them much that they don't have aside from money from visitors and exporters. Today I saw a window sticker on a car that said "Steve Mc Queen". I guess he offers them something.

Aside from admiring old action stars and iPhones, the Balinese seem to continue to live Balinese lives rooted in Balinese culture - even when they make good money and even when they have new luxuries and conveniences. They integrate the bounties of modernity with a life they love.

At least for now - and I hope forever.

As for the white ducks, I'm not sure what happens to them. They always remain a little outside the flock, but included in the field. I guess in the end it doesn't matter. White ducks probably taste just as good either crispy or slow roasted.

 

 

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Back In The 'bud

"I'm sorry breakfast is so rushed! It's not normally this way. We usually luxuriate over breakfast...." Emily said to Jacob and Diana as she shoved a piece of avocado camembert omelet in her mouth.

Our guests' first morning in Bali unfortunately coincided with Emily's live lecture. One of her schools requires a one-hour live audio lecture twice a week. Although the Internet at our house is perfectly adequate for 95 percent of our work, it doesn't sustain audio and video very well. Calls typically drop every 10 to 20 minutes and there are occasional lapses in audio quality.

We can't take chances with Emily's lectures, so we head to Ubud where Emily lectures in the one Internet cafe with a special, enterprise grade connection. We had to leave the house by 8:00.

In the mix of Nengah running a few minutes late making breakfast and Emily's strong value on punctuality, Jacob and Diana were a little more on the clock than we would like our guests to experience during any compound breakfast, let alone their first. I guess having just come from LA and not yet having unwound helped. They're still used to living by the clock and eating on the run.

I always enjoy taking guests into Ubud for the first time. Diana had never been and the whole drive was filled with oohs and awes. There's nothing quite like parking half a block down from a palace and a lotus temple and saying, "Welcome to Ubud!"

While Emily blah blahed about cultural differences and gender norms with people in Missouri, Ohio, California and Oklahoma, I walked a few blocks of Ubud with Jacob and Diana.

Jacob amazed me with his highly detailed memory. He immediately knew where he was and how to get around town despite the six year gap since he was last here. Most impressively, he was immediately able to point out the spa where we went for massages.

Not surprisingly, while Emily and I worked at Casa Luna, - one of our favorite Ubud restaurants - Jacob and Diana got a treatment known as a mandi lurlur. It starts with a one hour massage, after which comes a body scrub of yogurt and local spices (largely turmeric) used to exfoliate the entire body. The treatment culminates with a rose petal filled bath during which the freshly exfoliated enjoy ginger tea and cookies.

Jacob and Diana have made a day of wandering Ubud and enjoying its delights as Diana excitedly seeks to capture its every angle and aspect with her camera.

While Jacob and Diana dated 2.5 times longer than Emily and I did, and have been married a year longer than us, somehow we feel like the old married couple. While Jacob and Diana walk around town enjoying the honeymoon they never took, Emily and I sat at Casa Luna and discussed Internet speed, curriculum and my excitement about getting done with my articles early.

However, what's exciting to us is figuring out what to do with our guests during their somewhat brief stay. Jacob and Diana have only nine days here. In many places, that would be a nice amount of time. And they'll get a lot out of that time. But for some inexplicable reason, there's really never enough time in Bali.

So, we're going to help them extract the essence of Bali in nine days or less. This isn't for the faint of heart or the inexperienced. I like to think I'm neither of those things. More importantly, I feel if there was ever real money and a promising career in being a Bali tour guide, it would be my calling. I love to show people Bali and take immense pleasure in doing so.

I started with escorting them to the Ubud Palace, the adjacent royal temple and the subsequent Lotus Temple before pulling into Casa Luna to work. Jacob very smartly kept the ball rolling with his choice in spa treatment - in one fell swoop they got both Balinese massage and ancient Javanese beauty and bathing rituals done. Excellent experiential efficiency.

Last I checked they were headed down the street to the Monkey Forest. You really haven't fully experienced Ubud until you've had a monkey mildly annoyed at you for not bringing bananas. Jacob and Diana are on the program.

Our guests have also managed to break up our otherwise snoozy workday by coming back to Casa Luna for a lunch that was as long, leisurely and fun enough to make up for the horrifically rushed breakfast.

For Emily and me, it's been fantastic to be reunited with people we love so much and to connect again with home - this time with peers.

I don't know if it's because of the blog or the fact that time never feels like it's passed when I see the people closest to me - but I had sort of forgotten that we had catching up to do. Emily and I have had so many experiences since we last saw them.

Discussing some of the places we've been, our impressions and even comparing and contrasting concepts from other places with Bali has made for interesting discussion. For example, although both India and Bali have very low per capita incomes - there's a phenomenal difference in the way people live and their standards of living. Much of this - as I've discussed previously - has to do with Balinese ownership of family land and homes. The Balinese can be cash poor, but they're almost never destitute.

Emily and I have had endless hours and opportunities to discuss ideas and perceptions amongst ourselves. It's so fun and refreshing to discuss them with friends - especially such engaging ones.

"So, you guys talk....all the time....about nothing that important.... Why? What is that to you?" my friend Alex asked Jacob and I on the flight from Singapore to Bali in 2005. Jacob and I simultaneously paused and responded in almost the same words and tone, "That's what we do - we talk about stuff...."

And we still do.

Sure, we're not going to solve the problems of Indian street children or figure out why Balinese dogs won't get out of the road over coconut milk curries and fried tempeh, but somewhere in the mix, we accomplish what matters most - connection. At our lunch table there was enough warmth and love to feed all of India.

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The Sepupus Are Here!

The last few minutes were the most difficult of all. Jacob and Diana were among the last of their flight to make it through the slow baggage claim and customs line of the Denpasar airport.

We stood outside excitedly waiting - not just 40 minutes after arriving at the airport, but 12 months after begging them to come visit us somewhere on our travels. Their arrival was the culmination of both our bugging and reminding them and their hard work, saving and planning.

Although I'm always proud that Jacob is family, I've always counted him among my friends. Jacob and Diana are the first friends we've had visit us since Autumn and Sharon met up with us in Hania, Crete in August. We couldn't be more excited.

While we were filled with energy and excitement, poor Diana was tanking low after 24 hours of travel from Los Angeles to Bali with a three hour stopover in Taipei. There's no quick way to get to Bali.

After greetings, hugs, standing around chatting incessantly and a quick trip to the ATM, we all hopped in the car, but Jacob and Diana stepped into another world - the magical world of Bali.

It was fun to hear Diana's amazement at the giant sculptures of Shiva defeating the Naga at several of Bali's major intersections. She had never seen anything like this environment.

Jacob on the other hand, was here visiting me when I lived here in 2005. He knew exactly what he was in for, and couldn't wait to get out of southern Bali and up to the beautiful, rice field covered lands to the north.

Given we're four chatty people who haven't seen each other in nine months, the car had enough energy to power half the island. Topics bounced all over the place. We're people who see each other frequently at home. We didn't know where to begin catching up - it was all so fun and exciting.

Of course, Emily and I are not people to allow our guests to go hungry and unfueled. So, on the hour drive home, we bought fried sesame ball snacks from a vendor who sells at a major traffic signals and then we stopped at a place with several street stands to by some freshly fried bananas and cold waters. This was Diana's first exposure to street food. Because the minimum order was 20 pieces of fried bananas - each half a banana - her first exposure was a major one.

Jacob was anxious to get back to the house - knowing the beauty in store for Diana. On a March night much like this one, Jacob arrived in the compound at night, looking around with wide eyes, saying, "You live here?!"

There's no way to really convey what the compound gardens look like or how impressive they are in person. There's nothing that prepares you for the feel for the rice terraces, the landscape and the beautiful smelling air. So, despite Jacob's tales of his time in Bali, Diana seems expectedly surprised and impressed.

So far, no one has stopped talking. No one. Except me while I pause to write this blog. It's just so much fun to have our good friends and family back in our lives.

The only difficult part of their arrival was explaining it to Nengah, our housekeeper. After Emily's mom and aunt left only a few days ago, I knew it would perplex Nengah that more Americans were coming to the compound.

So, much like I explained to him about Emily's mom (Ibu) and aunt (Bibi) would be coming, I had to explain that my Sepupu and his wife (Istri Sepupu) would be here for nine days. I tried in vain to help him jar his memory of Jacob. It was too long ago. But he was very gracious and even excited about my Sepupu returning after so many years. He thought that was cool.

I do too.

As Jacob said outside the airport, "Can you believe it? We're back here together - you and me - and with both of our WIVES?! Who would have thought?!"

It's true. Our lives have changed dramatically since March, 2005. Only our friendship and mutual admiration haven't.

And not surprising for my masterful cello playing Sepupu, that's the perfect note on which to begin an exciting week and a half together in Bali.

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