Well, 62 hours of traveling, one broken board (thanks a lot, American Airlines), one gnarly scar from hitting the reef on my second day, and about 100 Bintangs later I’m right back in good old Sussex County and ready for basketball season.
I had to cut what was supposed to be a month long trip a little short and take the red-eye to Taiwan after my debit card got eaten by an Indonesian ATM and I ran out of Rupiah, which I never thought would happen, considering I started with millions (although I probably should have gotten some currency perspective when my cab ride to Balangan from the Denpasar airport cost me 40,000 — about $40, American).
But even two weeks halfway around the world taught me a few things about Indonesia, travel and about myself, and I’m back to tell the tale.
1. My ornithophobia is very real.
Anyone who knows me can tell you that I’m scared of birds. Not just scared — absolutely petrified. I always have been. Put me in a room full of poisonous snakes, or spiders, or mice and I’ll be fine. Put me in a room with even one bird, regardless of what kind, and you’ll find me more terrified than that girl from “The Blair Witch Project” in that scene where she’s running for her life through the woods and for some reason taking the 1999 equivalent of a selfie while doing it.
I don’t think a bird is going to murder me or anything, I just don’t want one to touch me. You can never tell what they’re thinking. I’ve always thought of my self-diagnosed ornithophobia as irrational, and probably pretty easy to overcome — but in Bali, I found out that it is indeed very, very real.
The most of terrifying of all the birds for me, is the chicken (geese and ostriches are a close second and third). What I failed to register in my anticipation of staying in a potential island paradise is that Indonesia is a third-world country. And like most third-world countries, there are roosters and chickens... everywhere. And when I say everywhere, I mean everywhere — in the streets, kept outside of stores as pets, etc. It got to the point where I was checking under my bed for feathers before going to sleep.
I discovered the fact that Bali is a hen haven on my first morning while somewhat ironically eating a dish called Nasi goreng (a traditional dish with fried rice, chicken and a fried egg). As I sliced open the egg and let the yoke run down and mix with the chicken and rice, I looked over to see a few cages lined up in the dirt a few feet away from the tables. In them were roosters and chickens, which immediately started crowing when I noticed them (obviously they sensed my fear). I immediately put my fork and knife down and left without taking another bite. God knows what those chickens were plotting against me, but I wasn’t staying to find out.
After dodging the street chickens by swerving into oncoming traffic on my moped for a few days, I got my biggest scare while trying to find a beach called Bingin. I had gotten directions from one of the locals but decided to try and find a shortcut on my own. Big mistake. I took off down a narrow dirt road through some farm lands heading east. The next thing I knew I was headed right for the biggest, ugliest rooster I’ve ever seen. This thing might as well have been Foghorn Leghorn. It was enormous. I would have rather seen Michael Myers standing in the middle of the road. Or Gary Busey. Or even my ex-girlfriend’s mother.
As I sped towards it, it motioned to the side of the road like it was going to get out of the way before it instead opted to fly out right in front of me at the last second, letting out an ear-piercing “BOCCCCCKKKK!!!!” as I barely swerved out of the way and regained my balance on the moped. Shaking in terror I quickly spun around, kicking up a cloud of dirt and cringing as I whizzed by again and sped home. I took the long way to Bingin the next day.
2. The Indian Ocean is a fish tank.
Paddling out into the lineup at a new break is always a little bit nerve wracking. But when you can clearly see everything going on around in the reef below you, it is even more so.
On my first day in Uluwatu, I paddled out to the line up and started looking down for any of Septima’s relatives. I didn’t see any sharks but I was a little caught off guard to see a big red fish that looked like a snapper casually swim right under my feet. After awhile I eased up and started to enjoy the fish tank that is the Indian Ocean.
3. You can haggle for pretty much anything.
I kind of already knew that everything for sale in Bali was negotiable but it didn’t really sink in until I needed a cab ride to Kuta one day.
I was walking past a few taxi drivers who always tried to stop me and ask “Taxi? Taxi?” one day after lunch on the cliffs at Uluwatu. I asked one of them how much and he said 40 (40,000 rupiah). I countered with 15, telling him that someone at the hotel told me that they’d drive me there for that (even though they didn’t). He was skeptical and asked me who told me that, but I was vague about it and kept walking. A few seconds later he chased me up the hill and told me that he’d drive me there for 20. Deal.
It was the same way for surf photos, hotel rooms, clothing they’d try and sell you on the streets, and pretty much anything else. The only exception was restaurants really.
When I got back to the states, my cab ride from Salisbury to Fenwick cost me $70. I tried to talk the driver down but apparently he wasn’t aware of the Balinese way of life, even if I was his first fare in three days. Home sweet home.
4. There are no open container laws.
We’ve all been there. A beautiful day on the beach trying to fool the lifeguards by drinking out of solo cups if we want to enjoy a beer while we relax. No need for that in Bali. On the beach in Padang Padang they’ll walk by and offer you a nice refreshing Bintang for a buck. They’ll even recycle the bottle for you when you’re done.
5. Bali is kind of trashy.
Not trashy in the Ed Hardy kind of way. More so in the way where there’s pretty much no sanitation of any kind. It’s actually a real problem. People throw trash all over the place and it litters the streets. It’s not uncommon to see piles of trash burning on the side of the road. I saw a few signs for Project Clean Uluwatu around but it didn’t seem to be making much of an impact.
6. The scene in “127 Hours” when James Franco cuts off his own arm isn’t so bad.
If you haven’t seen “127 Hours,” I’m sure you’ve at least heard about the scene when the main character has to cut off his own arm with a dull, knock-off Swiss Army knife. That’s what I was thinking about when I hit the reef on my second day surfing Uluwatu and had to squeeze a lime into the cut and violently scrub out the coral particles with my tooth brush to avoid an infection. There was blood everywhere and I had to get a new toothbrush. I wasn’t acting but I still think I deserve an Oscar for the performance.
7. Hindus are pretty cool.
I met a few Muslims here and there but where I stayed in Uluwatu was mostly Hindu. I got blessed by the Hindu god Devi one morning while drinking a Bali coffee and checking the surf. Every morning the Hindus will put out a bunch of little woven baskets with flowers and incense and other offerings to appease the gods. They don’t collect the baskets, they just let monkeys pick at what’s in there and the ocean wash away the rest (I should probably email Project Clean Uluwatu about this now that I mention it).
I’m really into their tradition of shutting everything down for an entire day in the spring to give the earth and themselves a day of rest. No one goes to work, or drives cars or goes out to do anything else. They even shut off the cable and don’t use the electricity. I said it would never fly in America, but I still think it’s a good idea.
8. Everyone is way more laid back.
Nothing’s a big deal, which is funny because it’s ridiculously humid all of the time. To the point where you’d think everyone would be ready to snap. But they’re not. When you check into a hotel they hand you a room key and tell you that you can pay when you leave without giving it another thought. The mini bar is on the honor system.
I remember one summer I worked at the Fenwick Bike Shop and we started renting scooters. It was an ordeal. You needed your driver’s license, a credit card, a bunch of waivers and paperwork, and a helmet before your instructional tutorial. When I rented my scooter in Bali they tossed me the keys and told me it was the blue one (they were all blue).
9. There’s free booze on international flights.
I had no idea.
10. Talk to strangers.
I ate lunch at a place called OmBurger on my first day. I was the only one there aside from a Canadian girl sitting by herself. They ended up messing up her order so I offered her some fries while she waited. She turned out to be really nice and had been traveling Bali for a few weeks. After lunch she showed me a couple cool places to go and gave me some tips about the culture.
After a few days of similar encounters I couldn’t walk down the street without recognizing someone. Even getting cash out of the ATM (the one that eventually ate my debit card), people I had only met one time would stop their moped in the middle of the street to say hi. When I went to check the surf in the morning the Indonesian girl who served me coffee a few times would pop her head out of window of the restaurant overlooking the surf and yell “Treeeep!” “Where are you going Treep?” She couldn’t say Tripp, but even so, it made me feel a little more at home.
Speaking of home, I remember talking to a cab driver about how everything back home was brown and grey since it was winter and how I was glad to be in Bali where everything was bright and green and beautiful. On my flight from Philly to Salisbury I remember looking down and seeing the brown fields and farmlands of Sussex County. “Now that’s real beauty,” I thought. I was glad to be back.