Wednesday, July 11, 2012

UBUD, the first morning in Bali

The guide Wayan was coming at about 9 this morning, so we got up and showered and went up for breakfast in the dining area at the top of the hotel. This is the view from our table. We were not used to the lushness of the jungle yet. But the early morning mist was still over the distant hills. You can see the swimming pool below us. The early morning was very quiet except for a few birds whistling in the trees. There was almost no wind but it was cool before the sun got high in the sky. It is very green in the jungle except for the bright red or white flowers that appear now and then. I could tell that, in the olden days, people from one valley would NEVER come into contact with villagers from the next valley. The hills are too steep and the jungle too dense. Maybe you can see the smoke of another fire if you climb a high tree, but to travel there, I would think, is impossible. We didn't know anything about jungles but now, in the morning of our first day in Bali, we loved the colors, the trees, the quiet, the birds' singing, the coolness, the distance of the next hills, the feeling of "a different world."
We went back to our room to collect our backpacks and brush our teeth. We took a couple of moments just to enjoy Villa 103 before we set off for the day tour. This is the front door raised entrance patio with a couch and table and double chair. You can see the roof of Villa 102 at the left side. You were supposed to leave your shoes outside the door when you entered and put on flip-flops inside. There were even two sarongs rolled up waiting for us to wear inside.
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Wayan and the driver picked us up at nine and we were off for the first day of touring. This was call the "Cultural Tour" with visits to Tohpati, "known for its batik", Celuk, the "center of exquisite silver works", and Mas "for fine woodcarvings. The day would be topped off with a visit to the Agung Rai Museum of Art which "has an extensive collection of paintings by Balinese and Indonesian artists in classical Balinese and contemporary styles." The real way to interpret this list is to say, "this is the day we take you to places where we get a commission for bringing tourists and get a cut of the proceeds." They even promise a visit to Puri Saren Agung whose royal family ruled Ubud and where "you can test your bargaining skills" at the Art Market.

Luckily, we were fresh and eager and stopped first at the silver workshop where we saw women making the jewelry and then spent one hour and a half browsing quietly with a saleslady for earrings for our daughters-in-law Rikki and Rie (and for Judy of course). The work is very delicate. They use a glue to hold tiny flower petals on a silver ball. The shop itself was huge. When the time to pay came around, the price was RPH 110,000 ($11) for all three earrings. And, guess what, we ended up paying RPH 90,000 ($9.00)
 This is the saleslady at the silver shop. Behind her you can see two women sitting at a table where they make the jewelry. Everything is very professional but with a sweet personal touch. We were beginning to learn about the Buddhist character of the people. Since Indonesia is the largest archipelago and has the largest Moslim population, Bali stands out as being 90% Buddhist. It has retained a special, quiet, personal touch, even with the horrific bombing of a tourist club by Moslim extremists some years ago. There is heavy security at all hotels and shops and schools, but on Bali you hardly notice any of it. At the Pita Maha hotel in Ubud, there were two security guards at the entrance, but they merely nodded to the van driver. In Yokyokarta, on the other hand, on Surabaya Island, the van was stopped, and the back was opened and mirrors were put under the chassis EVERY time we entered the driveway. Bali, therefore, has a much more relaxed feeling about it.

From the silver "trap" shop, we drove to a wood-working shop where we saw men sitting on their haunches carving statues.
It is always fascinating to see traditional handwork, especially with simple tools. These men are Master Carvers and get to put their names on the finished work. There are also Carvers who follow the patterns, but cannot put their names on the statues. Finally, there are young boys who do the polishing and waxing or buffing and clean up. They are not allowed to carve anything. Unfortunately, the finished items are so very specific to Hinduism or Balinese culture, that we couldn't find anything we liked well enough to buy. Furthermore, the shop was FILLED with hundreds of statues and carvings from table top items to huge garden statues. It was simply too much. They began to look like each other and we decided not to buy anything. Too bad for the guide, but on to the next stop.

We drove to another village (now this is funny, because we had no idea where we were going, and because there are NO street names or signs on the island, so all we could do is say, "Didn't we pass that house an hour ago?"). It was time to see the famous Balinese paintings. Okay, when you see one painting of elephants or gardens with princes it is very interesting. The style of the painting is very well known, you can recognize it anywhere. But, when you see a thousand paintings, large, small, in frames, out of frames, hung on the wall, leaning against the wall, they begin to look alike. Even when Judy found one she really liked, the painting salesman said, "Oh, you have a good eye. This is by the Master Dasarata, probably one of the most famous of all Balinese painters. He died a few years ago, but there are his students continuing his work. This painting shows the struggle of Prince Rama with the Demon King Rahwana. It is quite lovely. What do you think?" Judy thought it was "quite lovely" but much too large to carry on the plane. "We can mail it to you, of course. Where do you live?" "We live in Miami, USA." "No problem." I walked over to see what was going on and Judy said, "What do you think of this?" I told that it was very pretty. "How much is it?" The price tag said about $500, which was $495 too much for us. We agreed that we didn't like it that much, in fact, we were sort of sick of the paintings. Like the wood carving, this was overkill. Back to Wayan, "Let's go. We've seen enough, thank you."

And, so off to the final (we hoped ) shop. Batik. Wayan brought us to a very large store, a sort of warehouse where products made in Batik were sold. First, they showed us batik being made and we were amazed at the tedious process using hot wax to make the design. Then, we went into the store: Sari Amerta, address: Batubulan, Gianyar-Bali. See, no street name, just a village and a neighborhood. We bought several things there after spending almost one hour looking around. We bought lovely batik address books, and a tablecloth and shirts for Michael and Peter.
This is the shirt we bought for Peter. It is amazing that this must be done by the lost wax system, very time consuming. But, ALL the men in Bali wear these shirts (really, all of them) and many with a sarong instead of pants. It is definitely not the sort of shirts that Michael and Peter wear on a normal basis, but it is well made and has an interesting pattern. And, of course, it is absolutely typical of men's fashions in Bali.

How is Batik made? For the shirts, a system of Printed Batik is used. Basic lines are printed with wax on both sides. The parts that must remain white are covered. The basic colors are painted on. As each color is added, the other parts are covered, one after the other. The wax is washed off from each of the parts as it is needed to be painted. Finally, the last color is painted on. When all the colors and patterns are finished, the cloth is boiled to remove all the remaining wax. This is a time consuming and labor intensive operation, but quite a bit simpler than the batik that is completely done by hand for individual pieces.

When I went to pay, the price was RPH 184,000 ($18) and I said, "154,000". The cashier said, "No bargaining here." Wayan said, "No bargaining here." I laughed and said, "154,000". They both laughed and said, "NO." I handed my credit card to the girl, but didn't let go of it and said, "154,000". Now everyone laughed. "No bargaining," she said again. I asked, "How much is it?" And she said, "184000" and I said, "Oh, I didn't hear you, I thought you said 154,000." She laughed and said, "184,000." "Good," I said, "So you mean 154,000, right?" Again, laughs everywhere. This went on back and forth a couple of times, and of course, in high humor, laughs everywhere, I paid 184,000. The Balinese people have such a relaxed, good sense of humor.

The shopping was over. Thank god it was not the high tourist season, so we were basically the only ones in the stores. Judy asked a man from New Zealand if she could try one of the shirts on  him to see if the size was right. Remember, the people on Bali are much smaller than Europeans.  So, we knew that the shirts would fit our sons.

After this, Wayan took us to a real Indonesian roadside restaurant for lunch. It was obviously a tourist place, since there were several busses parked there and many vans with people like us on tours. We got a table right overlooking the rice field. It was a buffet (like Mirasa in the Hague) and we got 3 kinds of sate (chicken, shrimp and beef), a large beer for me, tchap tchoy, white rice and two small loempias. It wasn't the best Indonesian food we had ever eaten, since it was prepared early in the morning for the rush of tourists, it was kind of bland and overcooked, but, anyway, the view was great and it was Indonesian food, which we love.

We finished lunch and had to stop at an ATM machine for cash. We took out 2 Million Rupiah, which is $200, laughing that we were millionaires. We returned to the hotel at 3:15 and immediately changed into swim suits for a dip in the pool. Wayan was returning at 5:30 to take us to the theater, so we needed time to take a nap also. The pool was already in the afternoon shadows and the water was cool, so only I jumped in for a fast dip. Then, back to Villa 103 for a shower and a nap. We zonked out from 4:30 to 5:30 and got up just in time to stagger to the reception area to meet Wayan, who was, of course, early.

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