Bali Belly

I think I have a case of Bali belly coming on. I don't need to explain, I guess everyone can guess what it involves. Maybe my healing session today will help. I have an appointment at noon for an esoteric healing. Here is what the brochure says (no corrections made)

Shamballa Multi Dimensional
Healing on Massage
(1 hour) Rp. 150.000

Our Esoteric Treatment Healing your body, mind and spirit.
The process of healing:
1. Beaming and Scanning
Beaming creates a unique healing proces by opening and treating the whole energy field at once. Beaming energy the whole aura field, opens the field and increas the amont of energy received by the person.
2. Intuitif massage with Balinese style helping from negatif energy bloked.
3. Transfer the energy of Shamballa and psychic surgery (if need it)
4. Closing.

I'm excited, especially at the prospect of psychic surgery. I remember seeing pictures of it from the Phillipines with healers taking their hands out of a patients body all covered in blood while there were no signs of any cuts on the patient's body (maybe it was all fake and what I will get today will be nothing like that, but still... the thought it exciting).

Last night after leaving Epi and the internet cafe, I walked down the road a bit to look for a restaurant I found recommended on some website (maybe trip advisor). I get these mysterious e-mails recommending things about Ubud. Somehow, people know I am here. It was in a village called Pengosekan, which is just past the internet cafe and the Dirty Duck Diner. I guess villages here are not that big. It seems that a 15 minute walk and I am out of Ubud into another village.

Anyway, I never found it, but on the way I passed two fairly new looking places that were very grand, open and airy. They both looked out onto a rice field which was brilliant green and made even brighter by the sun which was making its way down to the horizon. As I walked past, a guy standing outside in sarong and head scarf told me to join them for happy hour - 10% off drinks. I thanked him and went on, but when it was clear I was not going to find the place I was looking for, I walked back, starting to get hungry. This place, called, the Pond, looked really inviting.

I like that I can eat at any time here. It doesn't seem to matter. In Spain if I went into a restaurant at 5 p.m., they would tell me the kitchen was closed, or the restaurant might not even be open. Even though it seems some people (tourists) eat late, there seems to be a lot of flexibility among the Balinese regarding eating times.

I was given a royal welcome at the Pond. I chose a seat overlooking the rice field with a little shade. It was a beautiful view and the restaurant was fairly empty.

I asked the waiter for his recommendation from the Balinese dishes and he recommended Bebek Betutu - duck that is rubbed with spices and cooked slowly in a banana leaf. It came with a pyramid of rice that had vegetables chopped up in it, and a side of green beans mixed with herbs and spices. It was really yummy. I started eating with a fork and knife, but I wanted to get every bit, so eventually I went cannibal and started just gnawing at it while licking my fingers. No one seemed to mind.

It was such a beautiful and relaxing place and the service was so attentive, non-obtrusive, and friendly.

Then they came in.

I called them Thelma and Louise (in my mind). First Louise came and sat down. She was dressed appropriately, I thought. She had a stylish little straw hat, a pink blouse and I didn't notice what she was wearing down below, but judging from her upper body, I guess it was respectful and proper. She seemed very nice, low-key and fit in with the overall vibe of the place.

And then she was joined by Louise. When I first saw her I almost choked on a duck bone. She was an older woman, late 50's, wearing cut off shorts and a halter top. I thought outfits like that went out in the 80's. Not only was she dressed like the owner of a bordello, she didn't have the body to pull it off.

I don't get it. Women have so many more choices than men do when it comes to cool, comfortable clothing. She could have worn a nice, light, flowing skirt and a blouse without sleeves, but here she was, in this beautiful restaurant, with these gentle, very modest Balinese, dressed like she was going to an aging hookers convention! To top it off, she had a big head of curly blond hair with sunglasses perched on top of her head and of course, was smoking a cigarette and spoke loudly. The Balinese seemed unfazed by her, but I couldn't stop staring. I wondered if she was here because of Eat, Pray, Love and was searching for her own Felipe.

They were Australians. But it doesn't really matter, because I saw a gaggle of older French women dressed similarly earlier in the day. Their old skin hanging and sagging and way too much exposed. It was not a pretty sight and the make-up and hair-dos they had only accentuated their odd costumes.

I mean, I am not going native or anything, but I do try to dress respectfully while still being comfortable. I guess Louise thought she looked hot. She had obviously taken some time to get dressed because she was also wearing several gold necklaces and bracelets, had her nails done and was wearing make-up. She thought this was an appropriate outfit to wear to a nice restaurant. Maybe it's just me, but I was embarrassed for her.

After dinner I got my check and it was 104.759 rp. Seems like a lot. It is just over $10.00! There was a 5% service included but there was a line on the credit card slip for a tip. I was trying to calculate how much I should leave. I was going to leave 3,000 rupiah, which is what I had in my wallet as small bills, but when I saw that 5% was 4,535 rp., I decided to double that, and I left 5,000 rupiah. Later I realized it was 50 cents! So much for my big tip! I am having a hard time figuring out what is an appropriate amount here.

I rushed back to my hotel to pick up my ticket for the evening dance performance. On the way I passed a couple I met at lunch time. I was sitting in the Warung I have been going to for lunch and they walked up. Well, first the guy walked up. He asked me, "How is it?" and I told him, "delicious", very enthusiastically. He said to his companion (wife?) who was Chinese, "this guy says it's good and it looks like they have a nice nasi campur". So they came up onto the little platform that separates the warung from the street and sat down. I felt proud of myself for drawing in customers to this sweet little place.

So as I was walking home and spotted them in another restaurant, I asked them how lunch was. They said they really enjoyed it, and also enjoyed the massage (I had recommended that after lunch they get a massage at Nur Salon, which was right next to the warung). Turns out they are from Berkeley, but currently living in China! Small world.

I picked up my ticket and headed towards Ubud Palace to the Legong Performance. It was supposed to be not at Ubud Palace, where it normally is, but next to it. I arrived and there was some ceremony going on. A lot of men wearing white shirts and white sashes around their heads and fancy sarongs (all the same) and a buzz of them riding around on motorbikes. I thought maybe once this ceremony was over, the dance performance would begin, but just to be sure, I showed a guy my ticket and asked him if it was there. He directed me next door to Ubud Palace.

I went to Ubud Palace which was dark and nearly deserted. Clearly nothing was happening there. So I crossed the street to where people were selling tickets to the performance and asked where it was. I was told I had to walk 300 meters down the road and it was on the right.

I had no idea how far 300 meters was, so I walked.

I came across another temple with people entering. I stopped and asked, showing my ticket. I was told to go to Ubud Palace. No, I told them, not tonight, and showed them the map on the back and said "Number 2" since I couldn't read in the dark without my glasses. I can now see it is called Dalem Temple, but I referred to it as Number 2, since that is the number it had on the map.

They said, "oh, up the road, 200 meters on the right."

Okay, I was getting closer.

Again, I stopped at a temple where something was going on. "Dance performance?" they asked me. Yes, I said, and showed them my ticket. "Oh, Ubud Palace", they said. "No, not tonight" I said and showed them my map saying, "Number 2".

"Ah, that way, 100 meters on the right".

I was getting closer.

Next I asked a security guard outside a hotel. I showed him the map and said, "where is number 2?"

"That way", he said, pointing in the same direction - "1 kilometer" (!)

Ok, I don't know metric conversions, but I do know that 1 kilometer is more than 100 meters. There was no way the distance suddenly expanded on me. I kept walking and eventually saw red flashing lights signaling for people where to enter.

The temple seemed miles outside of Ubud, but actually it wasn't that far. I was drenched in sweat from all of the running back and forth and also a little stressed that I would arrive and have to sit in the back. I was trying to get there early to get a good seat in the front, since the Legong dance involves those little darts of the eyes back and forth and I wanted to be able to observe it up close.

I was able to get a seat in front left of center.

There was a fair-sized gamelan orchestra that came out first and played one number, then they were followed by different dancers, mostly women, dressed in brightly colored sarongs who did interesting things with their feet, fingers, hands, shoulders, heads and eyes. I wouldn't say it was beautiful, and it was not as moving as the kecak dance the night before, but it was good to see. After a while I did get tired of the gamelan music which was harsh and a little loud due to it being amplified on a bad quality speaker. I was glad when it was over.

Early on in the performance there was a large commotion which was actually hard to hear with the loudness of the gamelan, but it seemed there was some chattering going on behind me. I guessed people were lost and arriving late, but couldn't they do it quietly? The guys in the orchestra who seemed to be playing music that they had played for centuries looked to see what was going on, though it didn't affect their playing. They did not look happy.

Several times during the performance, a ruckus would rise from behind me, mostly male voices chattering. I couldn't make out what language they were speaking. I thought maybe they were Indonesians and maybe it was acceptable behavior, but from the faces of the guys in the orchestra, I guessed it was not cool. Finally, I made out some Japanese.

Wow, my image of Japanese as good travelers had been shattered. Compared to the Germans, and Russians, and French, and all of the other Westerners (and even Chinese) I saw in Europe, the Japanese all seemed so well prepared, so well behaved and so respectful. How could they be making so much noise at an obviously inappropriate time and not notice the stares they were getting.

When the performance was over, I could not wait to get up and turn around and see who these rude Japanese were. There was a large group of old Japanese men, some with bad comb-overs, looking a bit lost as they tried to negotiate their way to the exit (all they had to do was turn around).

I walked back, down Ubud Main Road to the junction of Monkey Forest Road and then down a little east/west road that I like. Ubud Main Road and Monkey Forest Road seem to be the center of Ubud. There were lots of fancy restuarants, spas, and of course lots of men saying "taxi? transpor?" and making funny steering wheel gestures as well as women and young girls begging.

When I got to Jalan Hanoman I was only asked "Taxi?" once and then had a nice walk down a quiet and nearly deserted street. My room welcomed me with its coolness and I had a good night sleep.

It was only after breakfast today that I realized I might have Bali belly. I think I am going to see if I can find some ginger tea if I don't end up getting psychic surgery.