bali backlog

i lined up with everyone else in the "visa upon arrival" line. i wasn't sure if that's where i was supposed to be or not, but almost every other person was so i figured i couldn't be that off. the line didn't seem to move; i waited for quite awhile in the mass of people. when it was almost my turn, i suqeezed my way up to the counter. there was a woman in front of me, who seemed to be being taken here and there trying to figure out how much she needed to pay, and to whom and some guy appeared to be "translating," though she spoke english. i'm not sure what the confusion was - the clerk spoke english and if you handed over US$25 and your passport, they stamped a visa in your passport, gave you a receipt of sorts and sent you on your way. oddly enough, this american didn't have any US money. with 3000yen, i was on my way. i collected my bag and wandered out into the arrival lobby. scanning the crowd, i didn't see him. and then, suddenly, i spotted him, waving his hand in the air and jumping over the crowd. i dropped my bag and got a great welcome hug. he's totally not japanese. and yet, he is.

meet Will, my friend who works at the conrad hotel in bali, as the japanese guest relations captain.

Will lives in a complex of houses all enclosed by a wall, with courtyards and walkways winding between houses and multi-unit buildings.
it's the kind of place you could imagine a whole extended family living, with siblings and cousins playing in the courtyard while parents, siblings, and grandparents sat on the porches of the surrounding houses, chatting and watching the kids. each day we inevitably crossed paths with a neighbor and exchanged hellos. in the small yard in front of Will's place were trees that he hung his laundry on,
and more in the middle of the courtyard were flowers drying in handwoven trays.

the first night, he took me on his motorbike to the hotel and the beach for night tour. i sunk my toes in the sand, inhaling the ocean air. this is vacation.

the smell reminded me of summers spent in north carolina with my family. we went every summer for two weeks from the time i was a tiny baby until...well, my parents still go. once i went to college, i stopped being home, or have time off from part time jobs, and haven't been to "the beach" in years.

but, bali gave me beach. and give generously it did!







some mornings we lounged around and watched movies on Will's computer or sat around on his porch chatting with his neighbor. one morning we were to the beach before 10am (and got sunburned, consequently) and one morning we slept until 11am.

twice we had breakfast at the conrad. hello five star hotel breakfast!!




and another two days we ate at a nearby warung (street side restaurant).

in the afternoons and evenings we headed into "town" for shopping and window shopping, photo taking, sunset watching, drinks or karaoke(!) with Will's friends, or to get stood up and end up heading home after a martini at a rooftop restuarant.

whatever happened, we went with the flow and didn't do anything we didn't feel like doing. Will took 3 days off too, so he had five straight days to "do nothing" with me. :)

near the end of the trip, we spent a day at the beach, wave diving in some serious waves, playing beach football, taking photos jumping off big rocks into the sand, and just being big kids. it was a fabulous day, but the next day i could hardly move. my back was a mess. am i really getting old? by that evening, i was feeling sick (headache, heavy achy body, and slightly fever-ish) on top of my back pain. we headed home after a quick food court dinner and i practically fell asleep on the back of Will's bike. i tried to find the most comfortable position, and settled with my arms wrapped around his stomach and my head resting on his shoulder. part way home, my hands must have lessened their grip because he put his hand on them. "what's wrong?" i asked. "i was just worried..." and held onto my hands the rest of the way home. such a sweetheart.

my last two days, Will had to work 4pm-1am. so on my second to last day, i entertained myself by the pool and then started packing my stuff. we ate dinner on his break and when he finally got off work (early) at midnight, we stayed up until nearly 4am talking. i was leaving on the 11:55pm flight on my last day, so while Will was working, i got a one day tour of bali. one of Will's friends in a travel agent (and also like a host dad to Will). he drove while another guy explained all kinds of things about balinese history, religion, culture, customs, and other tidbits.
i saw a balinese dance,
a traditional house (all seperate buildings, most open air, with animals and fruit trees), silver making, the largest mountain in bali (mt agung), a temple,
a tropical fruit "forest" where i ate snake-skin fruit, guava and passion fruit,
the town of Ubud (drove through), batik making, and amazing rice paddy terraces. unfortunately my camera battery was dying and i had to sparingly turn it on, take a quick photo and then turn it off again. i wanted to take a hundred photo of the terraces; they were beautiful.

in fact, looking back at my photos, there are so many "missing." there are photos that i've constructed in my head but they never materialize. and maybe it's because i was too busy having fun (in which case, bring on the fun!) but sometimes i'm conflicted by the photographer in me that wants *that perfect* photo. the one i've built and can see in my head. the problem with becoming that photographer is that you actively must be inactive. that's not to say that photographers don't move and work and "make" photos happen, but you can't go wave diving or football playing or dancing on the dance floor or let yourself get enthralled in the sunset. you must be an observer. and sometimes, ignore cultural mores and just take the photo for the sake of getting *that photo*. i haven't quite figured out how to do that. even still, i did manage to get a couple shots that border on being something i hoped for:









there is still another (more introspective) post or two coming...