Monkey Business

I have scientific proof that primates are the ancestors of humans...

Back to Killer Kuta

I'm back in Kuta now because I have to sort out my visa situation and figure out how to stay in the country longer than my alotted 30 days. Eventhough the visa's good until June 10th, I am going to another Indonesian island soon and I need to get everything squared first.

Last night at a club, I ran into two guys I did "Dirty Bangkok" with about six weeks ago. One is from Cali, Clint, and the other is from Sweden, Johan. We had so much fun in Bangkok together and hung out with these three Israeli girls fresh from the military. I absolutely loved these dudes. When we bumped into eachother last night, we jumped into the biggest bro hug a straight man can give, and the entire surrounding area stopped and gave us the weirdest looks. Maybe it was because I was hugging two guys that were wearing nothing but pink boxer briefs and a tie around their heads. I couldn't have been happier to see them.

When I was three weeks into my trip way back in the north of Thailand, I was in a small hippie town called Pai. I was walking by a small outdoor bar when two Brits, John and Garreth, invited me to have a drink with them. They were very nice guys, and one of them, John, mentioned something very interesting... he spoke about how he had a certain perception about a certain thing, which made him act a certain way. And one of the main goals for his trip was to change that perception. I found it to be a very inspiring idea, and myself, sharing the exact same feeling about that certain thing, thought it would be nice if I could do the same, although I didn't find it to be too realistic. The two Brits and I went our seperate ways a few days later before we could say our goodbyes and exchange info, and as the weeks went on I began to transform my original feelings about that certain thing, and its definitely changed me for the better. And for the last couple months I wish I could have been able to tell John that he inspired me in a big way.

I was walking into a travel agent this afternoon in Kuta when, of course out of no where, I crossed paths with Garreth, the other Brit! I was equally as happy to see him as well. We spoke for a long while, its been more than three months since we've seen or spoken to eachother. Anyway, to make a long story short... now I have a way to thank John.

Lovina

Movin' along and doin' my thang, I arrived in Lovina, a sleepy town on a black sand beach in the northern, central coast of Bali. The almost broken down bus took only a few hours, so it wasn't terrible. People mostly hire private transport to places around Bali, but I really enjoy using public transportation. Back in Thailand, I made a decision to use the same transportation the locals do, and I learned a lot about the culture that way. It's great to sit on an old smelly bus with torn up seats, just watching everyone else do their thing. Some women are carrying with them fruits from the market, some little boys are going to school, some old men seem to just be sitting doing whatever. It's fascinating, really... small pleasures.

Lovina is nothing special. The black sand, due to the volcano, is cool to see but the water is kind of nasty and the beach itself isn't great. The town is very quiet with not alot of people, either. But Lovina is in a great spot in Bali, so close to beautiful scenery and small villages. The motor biking has been unbelievable, going through mountains and miles upon miles of rice paddies. The shades of green are amazing.

I saw cock fighting yesterday. It was intense and brutal. The rules here are a lot different from the fights I saw in the Dominican Republic. They follow more of a boxing set up with a ten count to see if the injured chicken can stand up. Here, the cocks have these huge three inch blades attached to their talons, where as in the Dominican there were short blunt spikes attached. Therefore, the fights were quick... these chickens caught one good slash, and it was lights out. There was no pulling a Rocky Balboa and fighting one more round, hurt and beat up. I won't post the video in case there are some PETA Playaz reading, but it was a scene to be watched. Half the fun was watching the Balinese surrounding the ring, betting, cheering, and just making noise.

Below is a picture of a great stretch of rice fields and a farmer just happy being a farmer.

The Volcano

I took a bus from Ubud into the central, mountainous region of Bali. There are two active volcanoes in Bali, and I went to the smaller one, Gunung Batur, set in a beautiful valley surrounding a lake. There are great treks that go to the top of Gunung Batur, and because the clouds begin to obscure views before noon, the most popular trek leaves at 4 a.m. to see the sunrise from the top then walk around the craters and blackened lava sediments.

My guidebook says that many travellers report being able to climb the mountain without a guide, as the path is well defined and easy to follow. However, there is somewhat of a trek mafia here in town, and its just bad news for people attempting to climb without a guide, as threats of violence and intimidation are some of the problems linked with not using a guide. Welllllllllll... my ass wasn't taking a guide, so I had to tread very softly, not ask too many questions, make it seem like I was going to wait a couple days. Listen, I didn't choose not to take a guide just to be a pain in the ass. My book said it was an easy climb do to alone, although not recommended in the dark. I was looking to test myself in a way I haven't before, and because of that, it was very important that I made it to the top on my own. It was important not so I could get to the top and stick my tongue out to the people who used guides, but because I thought it would be a real challenge to be able to navigate my way all alone, as I've never done anything remotely like this ever before.

There would be obstacles...
- the access road that leads to the trail is just across the street from the trekking office, which is always on patrol
- the barking dogs drawing attention to me
- getting to the access road without crossing the trekking office

I woke up at 2:40, put all my necessary items in my day pack, and quietly left my hostel. I was about a half mile from the access road, and needed to avoid the main road so that I could go unnoticed. There were three hotels, two restaurants, and some houses separating me from the access road. Here's how it went down... (written in present tense).

I tip toe out of my room and run to the wall. I can't use my head lamp, it will wake the stray dogs. I trip in a ditch. I get to the wall, scale it, and jump over. Four dogs start barking, so I run faster to the next wall, which separates all these compounds. I feel very covert and James Bondish. Climbing, crawling, making haste, slowing down... its an intense, blind few minutes. Now the hard part. I'm across the street from the trekking office and a guy is standing outside. I have to be out in the open for about thiry yards before the nearest barrier can hide me. I wait for him to turn around, and as if there are NFL teams clocking my 40, I bolt to a parked car, successfully hiding me from view. Dogs barking loudly and some lamps giving me little visibility, I make the last dash to the access road unnoticed, sprinting into the hills... hard part's over, right?

There are a bunch of paths... too many, actually. So many, I have to turn back around a bunch of times. A farmer that was walking around is nice enough to point me the way, and off I go. With my headphones blaring, my I-Pod fully charged, I'm amped, excited, and ready to eat this mother fucking volcano for a late night snack. The path is very narrow, and at times hard to define, but my headlamp is showing me the way. I'm climbing, sliding, maneuvering, and progressing my way up. A steady hour ahead of every other trekker, I'm excited to get to the top on my own.

I'm up, pretty far up, and I'm losing my path. It seems less trodden and more wilderness. Crazy Murray from New Zealand, remember him? He taught me how to read trails while on our hike, so I have an idea of what to look for. There are spots where if I step two feet to the right I could fall fifty feet. But the trail is still somewhat here, and I keep at it. But now its getting to the point where I feel astray, so I climb back down to a spot where the trail is thicker and look for new dirt. My 46 year old I-Pod quits on the way back down, so I have nothing but nature to listen to, which isn't all that bad, but it was more fun rapping "I'm a beast, I'm a dawg, I'm a mother fuckin' problem", while climbing up a mountain, ya know?

I find a new path, one I didn't notice earlier, and take it. I even find garbage along the way, so I know I'm good at this point. But the higher I get, the less it looks like a way to the top. My head lamp is dimming a bit, and I get lost for a few minutes trying to find a new trail. I get nervous for a moment, but know I must keep my head... nothing good ever happens to the guy freaking out on a mountain by himself in the middle of the night! I decide to wait by a rock until I see some flashlights, signs of other trekkers. I wait... but no one. Its nearly five, and surly people should be half way up by now. After debating what to do, I descent 2/3's of the way back down. Clearly off target, I find a new trail and shoot one more time. But after 15 minutes I get really lost, and even though I am on low ground, it isn't a clear place. I eventually find my route, and decide to throw in the towel. Dejected, dirty, and defeated, I gaze to the top of the mountain and see cameras flashing... an extra hard slap in the face.

(Back to reporting in past tense) The following morning I retraced my steps from the beginning just to see where I went wrong. As it turned out, I went wrong at step one. At the very end of the access road there is a temple and next to the temple there are two paths: one that hugs the side of the temple, leading to a beautifully laid out, wide trail to the very top, and another trail that leads away from the temple, up a small trail that zig zags up rocks, around trees, through brush, and is used by farmers to chop wood... guess which one I took.

I couldn't stand waiting a whole 'nother day to do it again, so I left town. It's alright, though, Bali is small and I can easily get back in two hours from anywhere on the island... I can't let one little 'night lost in the woods' get me down!

Ubud

After a great week of shaving a few years off my life in Kuta, I ventured an hour and a half north to Ubud, the cultural epi-center of Bali. In Ubud, I have been experiencing the real Bali, walking through streets filled with centuries old temples, beautiful Balinese architecture, and traditioanl dance. Ubud is a collection of small villages, surrounded by amazing stretches of rice paddies and greenery. Yesterday I took a motor bike and went to some of Bali's oldest temple ruins and cruised through some of the smaller villages. The scenery is epic and the people are so wonderful.

Although tourism and development somewhat takes over a town, Ubud has done a fine job of keeping its traditional roots. The guest houses, called homestays here, are built into beautful verandas and gardens, and just sitting on the terrace reading my book is an experience. It's nice getting away from the busy life back in Kuta and just taking it easy here in Ubud, breathing in the culture and learning about Bali.

Below is one of Bali's oldest and reknown temple ruins, Gunung Kawi, which dates back to mid 900.

The Ceremony

Ubud is the place in Bali to experience Balinese dance, which is a very colorful, ornate and traditional show. They involve telling stories through dance, usually about good vs. evil and monsters and black magic, spirits and demons. It's very cool. The costumes are beautiful and decorative, and its certainly something that is central to Balinese culture. The shows are performed in the town center at various locations, however, for the true investigator, one can witness an authentic Balinese dance performance at a temple during a ceremony, seen by and performed only for locals. The shows in the town center are great, but it is geared for tourists. I was in search of a show where I would be the only foreigner in the crowd. Only then would I feel that I saw some real Balinese dance.

I started talking to locals, who are extremely friendly and generous, and learned that there was a ceremony going on all week long, day and night, at a huge temple complex a few miles outside of town. The ceremony falls for one week only once a year on the full moon, so it truly was a special time. And it is there that I can see authentic Balinese dance. I took a ride on a motorbike with a local to the temple, but first he had to dress me properly. I couldn't walk into a Hindu temple wearing a t-shirt and shorts. I had to dress in a sarong with a scarf wrapped around my waist and a head dress.

The scene at the temple was amazing. There had to have been 2,000 people at this temple, and ALL were Balinese. I was at the temple for four hours, and I saw only three foreigners, which made me feel good. I met a really nice local boy named Wyann and he showed me around. He then led me into a large praying ground, pictured below. I said to him, "But what do I say, I don't know what to do?" And in his broken English he said to me, "It no matter. You speak through heart." And that was that. I got holy water dropped on my head, I held the flowers in my palms, I breathed in the insence. I did what the Hindus did. It was far and away the most authentically cultural experience of my trip.

Below is me dressed in the temple, a scene from the performance where the demon casts a spell on the villagers, forcing them to turn on themselves, and the praying ground where I sat with Wyann and "spoke through heart."

Right.

An asshole dancing like an asshole...