BACK FROM BALI SYNDROME (BFB)
Increasing incidences of this newly identified Syndrome have been received at various Hospitals in Australia. Patients are presenting with bizarre symptoms, the only link being the fact that they have recently returned from Bali.
Mild symptoms.
Frantic searching of bottle-shops for Bintang.
Flitting, repeatedly, around Travel Agents, taking any Bali brochure on offer.
Running up to each Golden-skinned person, anywhere, asking ‘Are you Ketut?'
Boring all and sundry with Bali Photos; ‘Here's me with Madday'.
Using Sambal on corn-flakes, Soya Sauce on spuds.
Befriending only fellow Bali fanatics.
Saying ‘Terryma Kazzy' to the Public Bar Barmaid, much to her confusion.
Asking for Lollies (Sweets) at the checkout, in place of small coins.
Swanning around the front yard in a Sarung.
Asking the taxi driver for ‘morrrrrneeeenk praieeeese'.
Severe symptoms.
Licking out the rubbish bins at Indonesian Restaurants.
Collapsing in a quivering heap at the scent of Sate, wafting from a restaurant
Frequently being ejected from the Departure area, at Bali departure times, where your constant loitering has become an issue.
The scent of Kretek mixed with petrol fumes, causes intense migraine leading to collapse.
Sniffing the cork of the last empty Arak bottle, causes alcoholic Dementia, speaking in tongues and other reality-avoidance fits.
Constant inebriation on Vodka and Raspberry Cordial.
Mild symptoms may be treated by counselling, usually leading to the emphasis on ‘how many sleeps' before next Bali indulgence. The Banks are also known to offer a service for the extension of credit, known as Plastic Bali Drastic.
Severe symptoms, on the other hand, are very difficult to treat. If the Plastic has been finally maxed out and the last Lottery ticket has been unsuccessful, there only remains Hospitalisation in the Bali Bonkers Institute, last rest of the over-Balinated obsessives.
N.B. My heartfelt thanks to Nyoman who, luckily for me, works in the lock-up ward and was willing to smuggle this letter out.
ROTARIAN EXPERIENCE
A student of mine, 20 years ago, was visiting a good quality hotel near Lovina, on the North coast, when he noticed a Rotary emblem behind the Reception Desk. Enquiries revealed that the Manager was top Rotarian of the district, who promptly invited him to the monthly meeting that night.
He was surprised to be seated alongside the Manager, at the bottom of the table and felt quite miffed as over-seas visitors are seated at the top beside the President in Oz. The manager/President explained patiently that the seating, in Bali, had to be arranged by caste; the top of the table being occupied by Brahmins, next came the Satria Caste, the Wesia and lowest of all the Sudra who formed the bulk of the population and to whom the Manager belonged. My student asked how he himself would be classified, only to be informed that he had no caste at all and had to be seated below the Sudra! Different strokes indeed. It is said that in more modern times, these class/caste distinctions are not adhered to in the strictest form and that Social Democracy is more to the fore as Bali enters the modern era.
TRANSPORT
Nowadays, 2011/12, taxis are freely available, with meters; mostly the BLUE ones are honest, other types are frequently to be found with ‘tickled' meters, so stick to the Blue, ‘Bali Taxi' who have a surcharge when called to the Hotel, but that is soon eaten up, if you are going any distance. If in Denpasar, in the area of the thousand ars....es, don't be caught by the White ones which are almost all fiddly. If, for instance, you are at a Mall, where the Whites have it tied up, walk up the sidewalk, contra-traffic about 100 metres and hail a Blue one; no wuffers.
From Airport to Hotel, you can only use an Airport Taxi, fixed price about 20% extra and there is no way out of that, unless you have very light hand luggage only and are willing to walk out of the Airport, about 1k from the International, closer from the Domestic.
BEMO
The word is made up as ‘Becak Bermotor', a Becak with a motor and these emerged in the 50's /60's when the Becaks were converted. A ‘becak', still to be found in country areas and other parts of Indonesia and consists of a passenger seat for two passengers over two wheels and the driver/pedal operator sits behind and above over a third wheel, which he steers. These were an idea of the Japanese during the War, who said it was demeaning for a man to be pulling a rickshaw, like an animal: good for them.
Years later, when mini-vans became available, the name lived on and these sit at certain 'stands' or cruise for fares. Unless you know the driver already, the rate is highly negotiable. Latest info' suggests that RP450,000 for a full day is the going rate and parts of a day accordingly, but this all depends on the negotiating hard or soft headedness of the prospective hirer. They all have business cards ( Kartu Nama) and Mobile phones, so you can recall a good one on another day
OJEK
Another form of transport is the Ojek, where one hires a motor-bike and driver for about RP1,000- or more depending upon distance and the nerve of the passenger; not for me, but I'm told of adventures that will grow hair on a billiard ball, so perhaps I should try one for tonsorial results! The Ojek is usually to be found at a recognized ‘stand' and nowadays probably has a mobile phone, once you know him, for calling him casually, as required.
MOBILE PHONES
Widely in use by traders of all types, including ‘Beggars' who work from a group.'Sucker in red t-shirt coming your way, get your pin ready to stick in the baby as he passes, looking at your bare boob, get your saddest face on your dial'.
These babies are hired to the Beggars, from the village, by the mother, for about RP30,000 per day so that the beggar always has a baby to bring tears to the eyes of the passing ‘Turis'. Early mornings, about 06.30 you can see a truck from the combine drop off these professionals at their booked spots, often outside money-changers or Kodak shops.
BEACH TRADERS.
These people all have a ‘HANPON'( Mobile Phone, translates as Hand-Phone, thus Hanpon) used in the same way, to alert their co-conspirators down the beach of the approach of an apparent sucker, including the price he paid, degree of hard-headedness and any other relevant info'. CIA has nothing on these people in the matter of sharing info'!
It is said that there are straight-up beach traders but, in my
experience, they stay well hidden.
STRANGE SIGHTS & HAPPENINGS
A Granny delivering eggs; cycling on a 1930's type of a tall bike, probably 2 gross or more of cackle-berries perched upon her head of tightly coiffed silver as she wobbled from place to place with aplomb, ignoring traffic of all sorts, which seemed to split before her as if by magic. Rude tourists were hoping for a large omelette to eventuate, but this never happened as this skinny old bird wended her way from place to place.
Mattresses being delivered from the store by motor-bike. Two or more mattresses balanced upon the heads of the driver and pillion rider, heading for the hills, a much cheaper form of transport than hiring a Kol, which is how a ute (Colt) is referred to locally. This form of transport has a built-in rest break, when the riders are tired, pulling to a grassy verge and testing the quality of the mattresses, on behalf of the owners' to be, for an hour or two.
On the way to Dalung one day, we encountered a sight very seldom seen. A cow had just given birth to a wobbly-legged calf and was still in the process of licking it all over. A lady, presumably the owner, was performing a dance of prayer as she welcomed the calf to the world, simultaneously thanking Dewa-Dewi Bali (Local Gods) for the safe delivery, which meant increased prosperity to her family. Although in normal dress the lady had burst into spontaneous Prayer-Dance mode, complete with gracious arm and body movements, displaying her thanks and happiness, in the manner she knew best.
One Sunday evening, yours truly was sitting whilst quaffing Mr. Bintang's best, in front of Loji's store on Padma Utara, at the time when most Balinese like to see and be seen, dressed up in their best, showing off their family to all and sundry. The motor-bike all polished up gave me reason to curse my camera, which had decided to stay in the A.C. for its own comfort. In front of proud Dad, sat two young girls on the handle bars, astride the petrol tank were two more kids followed by Mom on the pillion while on her back in a Selendang, (shawl) carrying a little baby happily treating all and sundry to a gummy smile. Seven-Up for sure, but my sadness at missing this photo-op was assuaged by a sight recently viewed on a programme on TV portraying Thailand in similar fashion except the Thai family had take things a step further by hanging a bucket-shaped bamboo basket on each side of the petrol tank, showing a happy pair of baby heads smiling at all; just as well I hadn't claimed a Guinness Book of Records prize for multi-bikery because here, before my eyes was a Nine-Up. Still on the look-out for a ten-up!