WIRED2THEWORLD.COM
WIRED2THEWORLD.COM
Kristina and David's Round-The-World
Journal:
INDONESIA:
Bali
US$1=7800Rupiah
Kristina's
Journal:
October 17, 1998
Yesterday was a very long day. Up early and out of the
hostel, walked around Cairns all day in the heat, and then a long evening
of fights to Bali. We flew Cairns to Gove (stopped to pick up passengers)
and then to Darwin where we had the pleasure of almost a three hour wait there
for the next flight to Denpassar.
While there, we changed more money to Rupiah and discovered
that the dollar is falling. Although most people say never to change money
in the airport in this case I think we got a better deal. Thomas Cook only
charged us a flat A$3 fee to change both our leftover A$50 dollar bill and
NZ$20 bill. The money changers here in Bali take 4-7% commission, but are
notoriously untrustworthy, with calculators that have false rates programmed
in, and give back short change. Many also offer less than the airport rate.
The dollar has fallen almost 1000 rp since we changed money 10 days
ago in Sydney and was as high as 15,000 rp to the dollar last June. However,
most prices aren't set here and seem to adjust accordingly. Even menu prices
are written in pencil.
After arriving at the airport at 12:30 AM Bali time,
we were much relieved that we had someone there to pick us up and take us
to our hotel. The area around the airport, Kuta, is not a very attractive
place, and downright intimidating in the middle of the night. By the time
we got to the hotel, we were shell shocked.
We're staying at the Garden View Cottages in an
area called Legian right next to Kuta. The hotel is actually quite nice with
the rooms set along a winding garden courtyard complete with incense burning
shrines and flowering trees. It reminds me of a temple garden. The Lonely
Planet lists it in it's mid range hotels and says the rooms look a little
like concrete boxes but they're really not that bad. Tile floors, decent
bed with a real mattress, hot water, fridge, bathroom and air conditioning,
what more could you want? I'm sure we paid much more that we should have,
but the peace of mind was worth it. The downside, the hotel is a haven for
mid price package tourists from Australia and their children. Air conditioning
is a must here, the heat and humidity is worse than Cairns. It is blessed
relief to return on a hot day to a cool room.
As I may have said before, everything looks better in
the daylight, and it did. We had breakfast in the hotel ( 9000 rp. each) before
venturing out to be accosted by all the street hawkers. When you fly into
Bali, your ticket will say Denpassar, but the airport is really closer to
Kuta and this is where most people seem to gravitate. It is an ugly, congested,
touristy, beach town. Everyone told us to avoid it, but we couldn't for the
first day.
So, out we went in the thick of it to check out the beach.
Good surf at one of the only breaks on the island. David wanted to rent a
board, but by the time we got back later in the day, the swell had gone out
with the tide. We had read that the beach hawkers had been toned down there,
but it didn't seem so. Every five feet we walked there was someone there
trying to sell us a watch or a hat. There are also women sitting selling
fresh pineapples, clothing, sarongs, massage, and henna tattoos. You can
rent an umbrella and chairs for the whole day for 35,000 rp. or less. We
just walked, checked out the scene and ate a pineapple.
We decided to have lunch at a restaurant right there on
the beach and of course, paid for the privilege of doing so with inflated
prices. Still two large beers and one plate of noodles cost us less than
$US6.50 and we did have a beautiful view of the beach.
We decided that we wanted to go up to the mountain town
of Ubud tomorrow. When we asked at our hotel, they said it would cost R60,000
each. This sounded high, so we checked around and discovered that there are
numerous companies running tourist shuttles there for 13,000-15,000 rp. each.
This is not door to door (though they will pick you up at your hotel here),
takes a bit longer (more stops), and is not air conditioned, but is significantly
less expensive. We decided to go with one and booked it for tomorrow.
On a more cultural note, there is something really nice and interesting going on here. Even in a heavily touristed area such as this, filled with shops and hordes of people, the locals still put out offerings to the gods on a daily basis. These are small parcels made up of banana leaves, filled with rice, fruit, flowers, crackers, and incense. They are then placed on small shrines, statues and right on the sidewalk in front of the shops. This is something that is not done for the benefit of the tourists and some of these offerings can be quite beautiful in their color and composition.
We had a good dinner at Legion Snack restaurant
right down the road from the hotel. More fried noodles for me, (mie goreng
special ,"special" here means that it has beef, chicken, and shrimp,
along with the noodles and vegetables), fried rice (nasi goreng special)
for David, beer, big bottle of water, and fried banana fritters and ice cream
for dessert. All for R28,500 (under US$4).
Tip: when eating in a restaurant that is open to the street,
don't sit in the tables bordering the sidewalk unless you really want to
do some shopping. Street hawkers will not come into the restaurant, but will
stand on the sidewalk flashing their wares and will harass those sitting
up front. We watched a couple of Australian families buy imitation Nike baseball
hats, surfer logoed wallets, and kids toys in a frenzy at their table.
David's
Diary:
October 17, 1998
I experience severe culture shock for the first time
I am truly saddened by our departure from Cairns. I have never experienced the kind of freedom and oneness with nature as I felt while SCUBA diving on the great barrier reef. It was a feeling like no other. I closed my eyes on the airplane, and could transport myself back to the balmy warm Pacific with no trouble at all. I am descending from the surface to the ocean floor, not too quickly, as I am perfectly weighted, slowly blowing bubbles as I go deeper and deeper into the big blue. I am weightless, free from all the burdens of the surface world. Corals wave this way and that, beckoning with millions of fingers, big colorful fish are everywhere... until WHAM! The seatbelt sign has come back on, the plane is dropping out of the sky through heavy tropical turbulence into Indonesian airspace above the legendary surf spot, Uluwatu, onto the ground in Denpassar, Bali. Actually, we are not in Denpassar at all, but a nearby suburb called Kuta. I could think of a few other names for Kuta, and some them even rhyme.
We emerge from the airport customs terminal and are
struck instantly by hot, humid air that would offend even the good people
of South Texas. The scene around me is more than foreign, it is downright
alien, like I have stepped off a time capsule right into the movie Blade
Runner. The only difference is that I lack the cool composure that
Harrison Ford kept throughout that film. I am sure that this is hell,
and we have gotten off at the wrong stop. I look behind me, but there
is no going back. Help!
To her credit, Kristina is calm and together- which
is good, because one of us always needs to be- as we search out the driver/
representative from the hotel we booked while still in Cairns. Eventually,
we find him, he finds us, I am still in a daze. It is 1:00 in the morning,
and we have been traveling all day long.
As we wind through the narrow streets of Kuta, which snake
left and right with no apparent logic or method to their layout, I begin
to feel my heart beating. It is not a comfortable feeling at all.
I realize that for the first time in a lifetime of traveling, I am experiencing
culture shock, and not the mild garden variety either, this is full-blown,
ice-cold, in your face culture shock. The Blade Runner image has not
left me, as the world around me is consistently chaotic and loud, overcrowded
and hot, and so humid that my bandana is a useless, wet, sticky rag
in my hand. The movement of vehicles, including the one in which we
are captive, is hysterical. There are cars and minibuses flying all
over the thin strip of windy road, coming within inches of hitting one another,
but some combination of dumb luck, expert driving, and a horn activated force
shield seem to keep us in one piece. The motor bikes are like flies,
buzzing around on all sides. We beep, and pass a slow bike, as a faster
bike beeps twice and squeezes between us and the oncoming volley of motorized
obstacles. I am at once terrified and fascinated.
I look to Kristina for some consolation, "I am not having
fun", I say, with just enough acridity so that she knows just how unpleasantly
freaked out I am. "It will all look better in the daylight, honey" she says
back, "it'll be ok tomorrow." I am not convinced.
By morning, I am on the road to recovery, adjusting to
my new surroundings, albeit slowly. One step outside the boundary of
our hotel and we become victims of the new commercialism in Bali. "You
want buy watch? Yes?"
-"No, thank you."
"Yes, Yes! I make very cheap price for you, yes?"
-No.
Cheap cheap price, what kind watch you want?
-I don't want a watch.
You want Nike watch, G-shock
No! no watch.
And it goes on like this every step of the way from the hotel to the beach,
with the only difference being the product for sale. "Transport, you need
transport?", holding their hands up as if to motion 'steering wheel'
but I am surely not alone in noticing that these kids offering rides don't
have cars at all, only their souped up little scooters. 'You think
I'm going to get on the back of that thing, and pay you to ride me somewhere?'
No wonder the economy is in ruins here, I think to myself, unrealistic
expectations of the foreign market. Kuta is a pit, a non-stop assault
af hats, watches, and rides to wherever you might be going. The only
redeeming factor is that it appears to be reasonably cheap, and once we sit
down for some good Balinese food, and Indonesian beer, I find that I am beginning
to relax. Our plan is to get the hell out of the surreal sci-fi nightmare
of Kuta- Legian, and head for Ubud, which is supposedly an artistic Mecca,
and much more like Bali "should be".
Kristina's
Journal:
October 18, 1998 Ubud
I think the sound I will always associate with Bali is not that of the gamelan but that of the crowing rooster. It is a myth that the rooster crows only in the morning. Here, it is day in, day out. Everywhere.
We arrived in Ubud this morning after a very interesting
2 hour shuttle bus ride. We were the first ones picked up and in went our
luggage onto the first row of seats. Then we went on the "scenic" tour of
Kuta through it's back alleys, no wider than the mini van itself. I swear
he almost took the handlebars of a bicycle. We then picked up a German
couple and in went their bags. Next stop, an Australian couple with three
surfboards which were stowed in the area usually reserved for walking. They
sat in the front with the driver. All full, right? Wrong. We picked up one
more passenger, a guy from San Francisco named Dominic, who we managed to
squeeze in. After that it wasn't a bad ride, though every time the van stopped
at a light or going up a hill, it stalled and took a while to get started
again. There was a time we thought we'd have to get out and walk.
When we arrived, we had no idea where we were in relation
to the town of Ubud. 
Turns out we are in a area to the southeast called Padangtegal. As soon as
we got off the bus we were besieged with touts wanting to show us accommodation.
We went to look at one, and although it was nice, he wanted an exorbitant
amount for it, so we walked on. Finally, partly out of heat exhaustion, we
settled on a guesthouse called Jaya 2 bungalows. For 50,000 a night we got
a big upstairs room with a big bed, small fan, bathroom, and super high ceiling
made of tied straw and bamboo. It definitely has character. I like it, David
hates the fan because it's virtually useless and it's humid and hot as hell
here.
We walked around for a while checking out the shops, relishing
the lack of hard sell we encountered in Kuta (with the exception of the room
touts and offers of transport). In search of lunch, we ran into Dominic,
and had lunch with him.
At night we went to a cultural dance performance of
the Kecak and Fire Dance. This is a 
classical Balinese dance performed by over 100 dancers. There are no musical
instruments used, only voice and hand clapping. It is a myth dramatizing
the conflict between good and evil. The performers were mostly men, dressed
in the traditional ceremonial black and white checked sarong. They chanted
and sang in unison as a few others, dressed in elaborate costume acted out
the drama. At the end, a small bonfire was lit of coconut shells and a male
dancer in a horse costume danced through the fire sending up showers of sparks.
October 19, 1998 The Monkey Forest and Bliss
This morning we set out for the monkey forest. It's
only a short walk down the road from where we are staying. The forest is made
up of large banyan trees and is thankfully very cool and quiet inside.
At the entrance you pay 1100 rp. per person. Although there are signs saying
"Do not feed the Monkeys", there is a person at the entrance selling bananas.
We did not buy any, because we had heard they can get quite fierce
when they know you have food. Also, remove sunglasses or hats because they
will steal them and hold them for ransom. It took one guy we saw an entire
bunch of bananas to get his glasses back.
Almost as soon as you enter you see the monkeys. There
are now over 200 gray long tailed Macaaqua Monkeys in residence and
they are everywhere, in the trees, on the ground, climbing the 
vines. They are surprisingly tame and used to being fed by hand by the tourists
and the keepers that work in the forest. The forest is comprised not only
of the monkey sanctuary, but of a holy temple, Pura Dalem Agung, a
mortality temple and cremation graveyard, and a bathing temple. Although the
monkeys have the run of the entire place, these temples are still used for
ceremonies. The main temple was closed to visitors, though we did get pictures
from the outside. The Bathing temple was very interesting and had a beautiful
stone carved bridge and steps leading down to it that looked like serpents.
After we left we walked up Monkey Forest Road, had lunch,
and perused the central market. David bought a nice blue and white cotton
robe for 70,000 rp. and I bought a black, gold and burgundy dress for 40,000
rp.
There is so much we'd like to buy, baskets, wood carved
boxes, statues, furniture, it's overwhelming. We investigated shipping, but
the cheapest by sea was a minimum cubic meter box for US$210. This would
be ok if we wanted to sell some of the stuff when we got home, or if we'd
be home much sooner, but right now it's not really in the budget. So, we
may just buy some small things and carry them until we get to KL and send
it from there.
There are many salons here in Ubud that specialize in
beauty treatments and Balinese massage. We stopped in at one that is on the
same street as our cottage, Nur Salon (28 Hanoman St.) which was also recommended
in the Lonely Planet. We made reservations for later in the afternoon
for massage and bath.
When we went to leave our room the sky opened up and began
to dump rain like I have never seen before. We barely made it to the bottom
of the stairs and had to take refuge on the porch of the room below. We thought
we'd wait it out. Well, after 15 minutes there was 3 inches of water on the
ground and no end in site. David went and got our "emergency rain ponchos"
and we made a run for it across the rivers that had formed down the street.
By the time we reached the salon, we were soaked to the knees.
Ah, but it was worth it. Although we both had had professional
massages before in the states, we did not know what to expect here. For 65,000r.
each we got an hour an a half of bliss. For those that wonder, women are
massaged by women, and men by men.
First they bring you to an open air massage room with
thatched roof, massage table, and mosaic tile bath. Then they ask you to
disrobe completely and lay on the table. Unlike the states, you are not covered
up in strategic places by a towel, you are buck naked for an hour and a half.
It was a little unnerving at first, but I had to quickly shed my inhibitions
and tell myself that this woman massaging me probably sees dozens of naked
bodies of all shapes and sizes every week.
The massage begins with "special oils and Balinese herbs
and spices." The massage style seems to be a mix of acupressure and Swedish.
Next came the exfoliating scrub made up of curry paste and herbs. After that
gets scrubbed off comes the coating of the entire body in yogurt and a rinse.
Wrap me in a chapati and I could be lunch! Next, into a steaming
bath filled with flower petals and a bit of time to relax. Finally, you get
out of the tub and stand there while the massage person soaps you up
and then rinses you off. I was impressed with her professionalism throughout
the experience. It was bliss.
For dinner we went to a restaurant that is a long time
Ubud institution called Casa Luna (I have not
looked at this link, but it was on their business card). This is a large
place owned by an Australian woman, serving contemporary international cuisine
and traditional Balinese food. It is expensive by local standards (we spent
US12.50) but worth it for a good dining experience. The service was excellent
(something rarely encountered here) and the food was really good. We had
a nice avocado salad and some garlic foccacia, David had a great pizza with
goat cheese, sundried tomato, pesto, and eggplant, and I had nasi campur
which was a mixed plate of local dishes including satay, corn
fritter, rice, vegetables cooked in coconut milk, and something wrapped
and cooked in a banana leaf. Casa Luna also runs the Honeymoon
Bakery, a guest house, and a cooking school which we will be attending.
David's Diary:
October 19, 1998
Darwin was right, I think.
If ever I had any doubts about the theory of evolution,
they have all dissolved in the mist of the Ubud monkey forest. These
little creatures are, for lack of a better description, almost human, and
in ways that are undeniably linked to our present incarnation. There
is an intelligent look in their eyes when they look at you. The way
their little hands and thumbs move when they grab some food and eat it is
frighteningly like my own when I come in, hungry, and raid the pantry for
cookies and cheese. The way the mothers and newborns interact, and
the way the entire family gets together for a collective grooming after a
meal, all seem to confirm their social and familiar nature, as well as their
role as our historic predecessors on the great chain of life.
Nestled deep within the monkey forest, in a small ravine,
is the bathing temple. What a beautiful place this was. One must
descend a flight of thin stone steps, then cross the deep river gorge over
an arched stone bridge, with carved serpents as its railings, with fierce
dragon heads on either side. I was impressed.
On the far side of the bridge, the bathing pool is sunken deep into the ground,
receiving a constant stream of water from the mouths of three animal figures.
Behind the pool, an ornate, but not oversized temple structure pays homage
to the gods, and protects the pool from evil spirits. The pool was
at one time fed by the force of the river, no doubt, but my curiosity led
me to follow a small dirt path to the rear of the temple, where I discovered
a small electric pump humming away with a PVC feeder tub stretching further
down the gorge and into the water below. I imagine that the old plumbing
is too difficult to keep clean, and progress is, after all, progress.
I just wish I hadn't seen the pump.
From the monkey forest, we forge ahead. It is time
to seek out our own slice of zen at Nur spa. What an experience that
was! Kristina outlined the massage process, so I will spare these details,
but I must comment on my personal feelings during this bizarre, but ultimately
relaxing experience. I have always believed myself to be open minded,
and was raised with a great deal of social and political awareness by well
educated and enlightened people.
But was I ready to put any vestige of homophobia that
I might still be harboring to the true test: a full body deep tissue massage,
and cleansing, by a young boy! 'Just breathe deep and relax' I tell
myself, lying buck naked- no little modesty towel- on the massage table,
while this kid begins to oil up my shoulders and back. I keep saying
to myself, he's a professional- but he can't be more than 20. In all
honesty, it a bit getting used to, especially when was working on my thighs,
but I conquered my phobia, and enjoyed the massage to the fullest.
I have to admit that at one point, I felt quite regal,
much like Louis IX must have felt as his suitors bathed him, dressed him,
and wiped his royal ass for him after the royal defecation, never lifting
a finger of his own. I just stood as I was rinsed with a coconut shell
ladle from a cask of warm water, soaped, scrubbed with curry to exfoliate,
then with youghurt, to moisturize, rinsed again, and finally, served
a cup of ginger tea in a hot rose petal bath after the whole event. Very
cool, very relaxing. I dried myself with the towel after the bath,
because I simply had to draw the line somewhere.
I have completely detached from my first two days in Indonesia,
and I am liking Bali more and more by the hour. Ubud is virtually Hawker
free, with the exception of offers for transport, which is manageable, and
brimming with arts, crafts, and good food. It is unbearably hot, and
the fan in our traditional style Bamboo thatched hut still couldn't blow
a feather off the table, but I have become accustomed to sweating profusely,
all day long, and most of the night, soaking on average two shirts
a day completely through.
Kristina's
Journal:
October 20, 1998
Today we woke up late, lazed about, read and talked
a bit with our new neighbor in the guesthouse, another San Franciscan. We
had our morning breakfast of jaffle filled with banana and some
fruit on the side. A jaffle is a toasted sandwich that had been cooked/pressed
in a grill machine like a toastmaster. They are actually quite good and can
be found on virtually all restaurant menus with various fillings such as
cheese, meat, eggs, or fruit.
We were going to change some traveler's checks, but
while walking came across one of the only ATM's in Ubud. The maximum withdrawal
allowed was 600,000 rp (less than $100) and it is given to you in 20,000
notes. The nice thing about ATMs is that there is no commission (unless your
bank charges a fee), no risk of being conned, and they probably have the
best exchange rate. One thing we noticed with the money changers here is
that the larger the bill or traveler's check, the better the rate.
On the way back, we stopped and bought a shadow puppet,
beautifully painted, and made of leather (80,000 rp.) It is the representation
of the Monkey King, Anoman. Tonight we are going to see a Wayang Kulit
(shadow play), performed by a Dalang (puppetmaster) who performs
in the Ubud Palace and at a place on Monkey Forest Road..
David's
Diary:
October 20, 1998
Master of Puppets...
The Balinese shadow puppet play Wayang Kulit
is reported to be one of the special forms of Balinese art, entertainment,
and religious education. The presentations that are held for the benefit
of tourists, like myself and my wife, are, most happily, abbreviated from
their traditional duration of six to twelve hours long! 
The puppet show is performed from behind a white semi-translucent screen
that looked almost like a small movie projection screen, stretched out between
the two front vertical supports which form the raised, square gazebo-like
stage area.
Behind the screen, located in the forward central portion
of the raised platform is a large flame torch, with a hood to control the
amount of light it casts. The use of flame for light is not only
a matter of tradition, but of style and quality as well. Although electricity
is fairly new to the Ubud region, only arriving as a standard source of power
within the last decade, and still outrageously expensive, even by Western
standards. The flame is best for shadow puppetry because it is alive, and
it dances! It brings a living quality to show that electric light could not
possibly reproduce. The flame burns with erratic rhythm and flickers
to and fro. The puppets take on just enough of this life and unpredictibily
to add considerable energy and vitality to the show. I have done some
shadow puppetry in my 1-2 grade classroom in Los Angeles and have always
used a bed sheet and electric light, but it does not produce even close to
the same results.
The show is essentially performed by a single Dalang,
or puppet master, but with the assistance of several musicians and one
puppet-boy. There were four musicians, playing a variety of gongs and
xylophones, both metal and bamboo, who sat facing each other behind the torch,
out of sight of the audience. The puppet-boy's only job was to hand
the Dalang the puppets he needed from the rack 
of thirty or fourty different puppets, and to put them back when he was done
with them. The actual motion of the puppets and the accompanying dialogue
was all performed by the one person. At one point during the show,
there were seven puppets being used, although only two would move at a time,
and each one was given a distinctive voice and character. The puppets
which were 'onstage' but not speaking, and thus, not moving, were anchored
at the base of the stage by a thin bamboo stick- the spine and handle of
the puppet. Traditionally, men watch the show from behind the screen, although
not on the platform, and the women and children watch from the front.
The stories which are told through this form of theatre
are all of a religous nature. They are mostly retellings and enectments
of Hindu Mythology and tell very basic stories. They all carry some
sort of message or moral, which is not too difficult to interpret, even for
those whose Indonesian is extremely poor (or non-existent). We were
given the benefit of an english language synopsis of the story of the night,
and a breakdown of the characters, by silhouette, including the religous
signifigance of each one.
Every so often, for the benefit of the tourists, who were
the entire audience here, the Dalang would repeat a scene in english, or
do side by side translation while performing. I was truly impressed
with the skill of the performer, especially in his ability to synchronize
the movements of the intricate puppet's mouth with his speech. These
puppets are ornately cut out leather, with many articulations, all connected
with little brass fasteners, like brads, but more permanent. The ones
used in the performance had anywhere from three to five conrols, including
mouth, hands, legs, etc. Not an easy feat to manipulate two puppet's
mouths and arms (often thrown up in expressions of exaggerated emotion) while
speaking for both, and switching between puppets. My hat is off to
this guy, and those of his profession.
I found it especially amusing, I must add as an afterthought,
that during this show, we were given the relief of several little comic interludes.
Only one or two minutes in length, each, the Dalang treated us to a little
Madonna, a bit of Michael Jackson, and then, the piece de resitance:
Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinski! I was a bit shocked, thinking at first
that the interludes might be for the children, of which there were many in
the audience, but I soon left that notion behind. The little
skit involved Bill picking up on Monica, in a very rudimentary english, and
with the use of two interesting puppets (not resembling either person, but
actually characters from the Wayang Kulit!). The end of the skit had the
two puppets connected most dubiously, along with noises that were reminiscent
of some of Ross Perot's old rhetoric...All in all, a most interesting experience.
Kristina's
Journal:
October 21, 1998 Cooking Class
I awoke this morning, on one hand excited about
the cooking class we were about to attend, and on the other hand, feeling
not quite right. Uh oh, here it comes I thought, punishment for my
previous day's smug remark about not having been sick yet after almost two
months of travel. By the time the class was underway, I had a full blown
case of the intestinal nasties, also known as bali belly. Needless
to say, this made the class a bit difficult as even the smell of the ingredients
made me run for the toilet. Oh well, now I guess I get to join the ranks
of the well seasoned traveler. I must say though, that some of the traditional
remedies for sick tummy, like ginger tea, do work wonders. Unfortunately,
this did postpone our departure from Ubud by a day.
To her credit, Janet de Neefe, the owner of Casa Luna,
gave a wonderful cooking class. It was 
held in the garden of her spacious Balinese home, with the help of many assistants.
She has been living in Bali on and off for the last 20 years and is married
to a Balinese man. They have four children, a restaurant, bakery, guesthouse,
homewares shop, and are about to open an even more upscale restaurant up the
hill from Ubud. She is a busy lady, but still takes two days a week, Mondays
and Wednesdays right now, to do these four hour classes.
The classes begin with a refreshing glass of hibiscus tea
from flowers in the garden, and introductions around of all the "students".
There were about 15 people in all, quite a few couples, and a healthy mix
of Australians, Germans, and Americans (3 of whom currently live in Costa
Rica). There were people who liked to cook for fun, some people who worked
in restaurants or catering, and an Australian couple who lived and worked
as rangers on an isolated "station" in the Northern territory and had to
cook for themselves.
She began the class with about an hour's introduction to
all the basic ingredients, from spices to vegetables, of Indonesian food.
Each of these we got to smell, touch, taste. These were broken down by fragrant
seeds and nuts such as candlenut (like a macadamia) and coriander seeds, 
rhizomes and roots like ginger and turmeric, the sour flavors
(kaffir lime), the sweet and salty flavors (fish paste and palm sugar),
the hottest flavor (chiles), the coconut and its' multitude
of uses, cooking oil, the basics ( garlic, fried onion) , and herbs
and leaves.
After a short break, we were shown how to assemble these
ingredients. First rujak, which is a sweet and sour sauce used as
a dressing, and a dip for fruit. it combines all the flavors of sweet, sour,
spicy and salty. I'm sure it was good, but this was one of those points where
the smell alone was enough to drive me from the table in my illness. Dave
assures me it was good.
Next came the curries, which all begin as a mixture of
various spices and chilies, ground by hand with a mortar and pestle into
a paste. Everyone got a chance to try. These "curries" are not a thick
sauce like the Indian curries that most westerners are used to. They are,
in reality, a spice mixture that can be turned into a sauce, or simply used
as in ingredient. After all the food was cooked, everyone sat down to eat
the feast.
For a look at some of the recipes from the first class, click here...
October 27, 1998 Playing Catch-up...
We're sitting here in the Denpassar, Bali airport, waiting
for our flight to KL which has been delayed almost 2 hours. Add to that the
fact that we got to the airport almost 4 hours early, means that we have
quite a long wait ahead. As usual, I scout about looking for a free electrical
outlet to sit next to so I can plug in the computer. Took a bit of time,
but I found one, so here we are. US airports are good good for this, but
outside the country is always a bit more difficult. I sit here with the computer
in my lap, a object of curiousity for all passers by. David had found
his International Herald Tribune here, so he's happy.
The past few days we haven't found the time to write but
I'll try now to bring is up to date. After the cooking class we spent another
day in Ubud, mostly resting my stomach. Then we took a bus over
to the north side of the island and spend two days in the beach town of Lovina.
In Lovina we got off the bus and walked toward the beach.
We were quite shocked at the prices of the first few hotels we checked. They
quoted prices in US dollars which is always a bad sign to start. The first
one wanted US$40 which is a bit difficult to accept after only spending US$7
a night. So we walked on and found the Puri Bali Resort (listed in Lonely
Planet) which was 80,000 rp a night in a large fan cooled room with balcony
and four poster bed with mosquito net. David looked at the room and declared
it ok so we accepted it. Turns out it only had cold water (not really bad
given the temperature outside) but the sink drained right on to the floor
of the bathroom! The fan was also useless underneath the mosquito net so
I spent the entire night sweating and not sleeping.
The next morning we got up at 5:30 AM to do the one tourist
thing in Lovina. This is to go out and see the dolphins that come in to feed
in the early morning. Cool, I thought, I finally get to see my dolphins!
So we walk down to the beach and get into this tiny outrigger
canoe with a lawnmower motor on the back. We spend the next hour and
forty minutes crisscrossing the bay in search of the elusive dolphins
along with about thirty other boats. Finally we see them, about five of them
arch through the surface of the water and all boats head toward them. We
chase them and they swim away. All in all, I didn't find it a particularly
rewarding experience. We got sunburned and sea sick chasing dolphins that
didn't want to be near us. Others we talked to said that they saw more in
less time so I guess it's just a hit or miss thing.
I decided I couldn't go 48 hours without sleep, so we
moved to an air-conditioned room (160,000 rp.), well worth it for a good
night's sleep. We spent most of the rest of our time there out at the pool
talking with other travelers, all moaning about the decline of the dollar
to the Rupiah. Since we've been here it has declined almost 2000 to the dollar.
It's always the case of "you should have been here 3 months ago".
We had a few days left in Bali, so we decided to go back
to Ubud, and stay at the Honeymoon Guesthouse and attend another cooking
class. This was great and we're so glad we did it. The guesthouse is quite
nice with Balinese antiques in the rooms, mosquito nets, fans, etc. and a
great big breakfast. Guests get 10% discount on cooking classes.
In the early morning, before the class we went to the
local central market. During the day, this 
market teems with tourists shopping for souviniers, clothing, wood carvings,
art, and baskets. It is near impossible to walk more than five feet without
being offered something to buy.
In the early morning however, it is filled with locals
doing their daily food and home shopping and has a completely different atmosphere.
We walked around a bit, marveling at the colorful flowers for use in the
daily offerings, the women with baskets filled with all manner of food and
fruit, and the vendors hawking their wares. It was not an uncommom thing
to see women carrying their daily purchases, or items for sale, in large
baskets on their heads.David bought himself a blue and white cotton batik
robe.
Monday's cooking class was much smaller, only
six people, and focused on fish, in two different 
preparations, different curries and sambal sauces, and coconut black rice
pudding. We covered all the same ingredients as the first class, but this
time I was able to taste and smell them without wanting to hurl. One of the
most interesting ingredients was palm sugar, which looks like brown sugar,
but is made from the berries on a specific type of palm tree. It is less
sweet than cane sugar, tastes like caramel/coffee, and is perfect for use
in cooking. Once the meal was cooked, it tasted even better than I thought
it would. I can't wait to try cooking it for myself.
For a look at some of the recipes from the second class, click here...
After the class, we had errands to run, and the day turned into one of those where nothing will go right. All the ATMs stopped working in Ubud, a fact which we did not discover until we walked all over town to try them all. Then we tried to mail a package home with just a few of the souvenirs we purchased and some clothes. For only 3 kilos, it would have cost us over US$50 to mail it sea post which could take months. We are carrying it to Malaysia.
That night we had the pleasure of dining at the new
restaurant owned by Casa Luna. It is not open yet, but they were doing a
trial run for family and friends. The restaurant will be called Indus and
it is on the road north of Ubud, overlooking a river and a valley. It is
a beautiful restaurant, large and in the Balinese style, but it would fit
right in at any Four Seasons resort (which is the market they are aiming for).
We sat and had dinner with the other guests of the guesthouse,
Mick and Sarah Bleith, brother and sister from Australia, and Sarah's daughter
Ella. The food began quite promisingly, prawns wrapped in rice paper and
fried with a spicy dipping sauce, and smoked salmon dolmades with
tatziki, for the table to share. Both were excellent. The next course took
45 minutes to get to the table, and not all came at the same time. My avocado
and prawn salad was very good as was David's thai coconut soup. Our main
courses took an hour and a half to come, and again came to the table one
by one. I had a seafood crepe that had some sort of wasabi sauce inside that
was completely overpowering. David had a steak that was overcooked. However,
our dessert, a chocolate mocha torte with espresso ice cream was wonderful
and completely decadent. I think the restaurant will do fine, given the success
of Casa Luna once they iron out a few problems that occur naturally during
opening.
|
|
|
|
|