Tanah Lot

I like to tan a lot.

Haha ok, this is true, but it's almost my attempt at a silly pun. Tanah Lot, two hours by moped to the northwest of where we were staying in Nusa Dua, was in my opinion the most beautiful site in Bali. It is a holy rock island temple, built ages ago and still sacred to the local priests who worship at the island today.

Ocha and I only stayed by the shore. You could cross over, it was low tide, but I don't know that we would have been allowed inside and around the small but cliff-faced island. We took a lot of pictures, the scenery was absolutely stunning. The water was so clear, and it glided up into the flat, intertidal areas with each incoming wave. There were shallow crevasses all over, as well as perfectly circular isolated pools. These pools were not yet subjected to the coming tides, so their clear waters were perfectly still, the sand nicely settled at the bottom. It was fun to just hop in these pools, or walk along inside the crevasses. You had to be wary of crabs though! They were everywhere. Luckily, the water was so clear I could always see them before coming too close.

We walked along the coast awhile. There was a steep cliff separating us from higher ground, and for some reason we were some of the only tourists who wandered from nearby the temple. There was a nice cushion of sand close to the cliff, and a ledge just at my fingertips if I also stood on a separate boulder. I wanted so bad to climb it! The problem- beneath the ledge the rock quickly curved back. I first tried climbing from upside down. Nope. I tried pull ups. Nope, that didn't work either. I tried jumping. Definitely a nope. Haha anyone who knows me, knows that jumping was surely a fail. I eventually walked way down the beach to climb up on a not so challenging part, and sat on a ledge that didn't protrude out so far. I later took back my camera from Ocha to find a long series of photos outlining my humorous struggles.

We walked further to some higher cliffs that we could walk out on and over the ocean. The strong waves burst upon the rocks, sending up a thrilling spray of salty sea water. It is a powerful, inspirational lookout point. I would have liked to just sit there until the sun set.

We instead walked back and to the opposite side of the temple. There was another cove area, where the rock cliff made a natural bride to another, smaller temple sitting high atop the stone. It was a beautiful sight, one that belongs on a post card. Funny thing is, that is actually how I found out about this place. I first bought its postcard. Far away in Kuta beach, I held up the card, saying to Ocha excitedly, "wow, can we go there?"

I could have spent all day at Tanah Lot.

Bali Under the Waves

Down Where It's wetter...

The last activity on my schedule in Bali: SCUBA diving! You can't go to Bali without experiencing the underwater world. I had heard Indonesia is one of the best places to dive, and I had been looking forward to this since my arrival here.

Back at the University of Georgia, I had completed the first part of my SCUBA certification - the part that has to be done in the pool. I then needed my open water certification, which I was able to schedule to finish in Tulamben, Bali.

I needed to be at the dive center at 7:30am. We had ridden by it the day before on accident when we were lost, when I pointed it out to Ocha. She would drive me there, but she didn't have part of her certification done and couldn't come with. I set my alarm for 5:30, plenty of time to be ready to leave at 6:30. I was going to give us plenty of time to ride there too, in the likely event that we would get lost again. Ocha woke up a little after I did, and her arm was in a lot of pain, so she said she couldn't drive me. I was packing my stuff up for the two-day trip, when she rolled over and mumbled, "what time do you have to be there, 9?" I said no... 7:30, leave at 6:30. She indifferently said, "It is 7 now," and rolled back over. And then I kinda panicked. I had waited months for this day. I didn't have a ride. I was already going to be late. And it had to take me until the fourth day in Bali to find out the time changed!?! (It was actually 6:40, she rounds up). She said I could call a taxi. That would take too long, I tried to explain to her. And for them to find her uncle's house would have been chaos. So then she said I could ride with her uncle. "By motor?" (meaning moped) I asked. She said no. So I went downstairs to see a bunch of school boys standing around a car with it's hood up. Uh oh. I yelled up at Ocha trying to clarify who and what I was riding, because her uncle was no where around. And she replied something inaudible, so I ran back upstairs. Ah, I was supposed to ride with her uncle's son (not cousin? I was confused) by moped. So I went back down, and he was one of the school boys I eventually figured out. No one knew where the place was, after I showed them them the address. I explained to them that it was on a main road going to Sanur, but no one would leave not knowing exactly where. I kept calling the dive center, but with no answer. We went back upstairs to Ocha laying in her bed and they kept talking about how we didn't know where it was. I finally used Ocha's computer to show them google maps. But they just ignored it, apparently no one uses maps. In the end, I went by motorcycle with one of the construction guys that is working on the uncle's guest house. We stopped along the road a couple of times to ask for directions. A little after 8am, I happily arrived at Atlantis Dive Center.

I was so happy that they had waited for me, and so excited for the adventures to come! We had a 2.5 hour drive ahead of us, so I quickly paid and loaded up my SCUBA gear. Surprise to me: Atlantis, the PADI-certified dive company I chose, is French. All of the instructors, and most of their customers, are French speakers. I immediately thought of the famous Jacques Cousteau. They could speak English, and with such suave accents. Everyone was so nice and welcoming. The diving community always seems to be such a friendly, great group of people.

The other tourists in the van were two guys from Iran and an American woman from Atlanta. I got my own, personal instructor named Christoph. We were dropped off at a dive resort in Tulamben while the others kept going. I checked into my single bungalow room and went to meet Christoph by the water. What a beautiful place! The resort was right at the water's edge, a straight rock wall going up to where you could dine or lounge. This part of the island is not a place for tourists, only divers come here, a fact I thoroughly preferred and found quite relaxing. I was the only American at the place, but the French people and one German lady working on her Master Diver certification were really fun to be around.

I got to do two dives that first day. Each time we reviewed some skills... and then we got to explore. Oh was it beautiful! Such clear water and so many colors! The first dive was in the coral garden, and the second was on a shipwreck. I felt so fortunate to just be in Bali SCUBA diving, and then to be able to see a wreck! I don't think I ever stopped smiling, even with that clunky regulator shoved in my mouth. It was a beautiful, enchanting world. Among the many beautiful and unique fish I don't know the names of, I got to see a moray eel, a stingray, a barracuda, and a field of meter-long eels that looked like skinny brown plants flowing in the current.

...You know its better, Under the Sea...

Am I Russian, Maybe French?

There are a ton of tourists in Bali. And after not seeing any white people for six weeks, they seemed so out of place. I was a tourist too, I suppose, but I kept thinking to myself that I somehow had more "rights" to be there. I felt more connected to the Indonesians than these Westerners, or at least I didn't want to be associated with the tourists. A vast majority of them were overweight, especially compared to the Indonesians I have been surrounded by the last month and a half. They appeared arrogant, strutting about in their expensive clothing and sunglasses. I was reminded though, that like it or not, I am also a foreigner. People would stare at me whenever we stopped at a red light, walking down the street, or laying on the beach. They always want to take pictures with me too. When I was laying out on the beach, I would notice people pointing cameras in my direction. Or do they think I don't notice when someone is posing for a picture a few meters from me, the opposite direction from the ocean? It gets annoying, I have to say.

Actually, people never thought I was American, which I found surprising. Mars, the surfer dude, when he first came up to me:

—You are Russian?
—Me? No.
—Yes, I think you are Russian. You speak Russian?
—Nyet.
—You speak Russian!
—Nyet. I am from the USA.

Haha I think I confused him, but it was rather funny.

Another time, a native thought I was French. He asked me if I was from France, and said that I looked French.

One afternoon in Bali was spent at Benoa beach, the prime location for all sorts of water sports. Ocha and I did the flying fish and banana boat. Both are inflatables pulled by a speedboat. Launching off a wave on the flying fish, we were sent high into the sky and glided for a time. It was thrilling and very fun. The banana boat was a tube that Ocha and I and 2 natives sat on. We purposefully fell off twice, which was also a lot of fun.

Temples and Too Many Ants

Unlike Java Island, Bali is not primarily Muslim. It is more a mix of Hinduism and traditional religion. There are temples absolutely everywhere, nestled within the houses, along the streets, or out in the open depending on size. Little banana leaf baskets filled with flowers are brought to the many shrines, daily it seems, and prayers / recitations are offered. The people are also very superstitious. On the way over in the travel car there was a man, his wife, and their toddler daughter. The driver said these innocent people were using magic. The car apparently couldn't go fast enough while they were inside, but once we dropped them off we were able to zip around. Hmm, I have a hard time believing that. Maybe the driver just wanted an excuse for dropping us off late.

Tuesday afternoon we visited one of the largest temples. Massive stone rectangles rose into the sky around a central courtyard, mysteriously and impressively cut into the earth. At the head of the courtyard was a massive stone sculpture of a bird-like god, and even father up was the stone recreation of one of the Balinese princes. It was a beautiful view of the island from the heights of the temple.

There are also statues everywhere of warriors, uniformed soldiers, or sea-oriented gods, like the one driving the chariot shown here. We got lost so much, so I saw this particular statue much more than what would have been necessary. Traffic in Bali is also absolutely terrible, so we often went by moped. Weaving in and out of the cars, you can get around a lot faster. Since we were staying at Ocha's uncle's house, he was kind enough to lend us one for the week.

The showers this week: barrel and scoop. And by no means was the water warm.

I don't think I have talked about the ants yet. In Malang, they are everywhere. In Bali, they are everywhere. They are in the bed, on the toilet seat, and around my stuff that sits out on the counter. I don't eat food in the room for that reason, but I am sure I have swallowed or eaten my fair share of the little critters. In Bali, all the ants were tiny, and there were swarms of them. In the bathroom, there were two solid lines of ants crawling from floor to ceiling. On Tuesday I took a swig from my water bottle. And then there was a sharp prick and burning sensation on my tongue. Ant. Ew. The little sucker was soon crushed and promptly rolled out of my desecrated mouth.

Bali

After graduation on Sunday, I went to the AIESEC closing ceremony. They had some traditional songs and dances in a really neat, historic restaurant. After this, Ocha and I headed out for the beautiful tropical island of BALI.

14 hours by travel car--what we would consider a large van, with six other people--was not so bad. We drove through the night, from 7pm until 9am, and I tried to sleep most of the way. At one point I opened my eyes just briefly to see the silhouettes of palm trees and the rolling waves behind. I drifted back off to sleep in pure happiness.

The first day in Bali, on Monday, we went to Kuta beach. Many local and foreign tourists crowd this popular beach, ideal for beginning surfers, sunbathers, or wading into the forceful waves. The locals are constantly trying to sell you things. Mats, hats, bracelets, hair braiding, henna tattoos, etc. Some walk back and forth down the beach, but most hang out in the shade to catch the foreigners just as they are entering the beach. It is rather funny actually--westerners want to be in the sun as much as possible, to get that coveted golden brown tan. But the Indonesians...they stay under the trees, to be as white as possible. It makes you think; why are we always trying to change our skin color? Is it really that important? Anyway... I was sprawled out on my towel, peacefully reading a book (Ocha was, naturally, back in the shade), when this surfer dude comes and just plops himself down next to me. His name was Mars, and he stayed right where he was until Ocha and I left the beach. He spoke English pretty well, after only living in Bali for two years and learning English on his own. He wasn't super pushy either like most of the locals, but he was trying to get me to rent a surfboard and take a lesson from him.

On Tuesday, we went to Sanur beach. In my opinion, this beach was wayyy better than Kuta. There were not as many people because huge resorts lined this part of the coast. (And one great thing about being an American tourist here...they think you belong on private beaches! Hehe). The water here was crystal clear. I could see my toes and the white sand in water up to my neck. This is what I had been waiting for, what I had dreamed of Bali being like.

We walked along the beach for awhile. It was beautifully lined by the fancy resorts and cobblestone pathways. Palm trees and other tropical plants were cleanly arranged around the restaurants and lawn chairs. We stopped at one place to eat a much needed lunch. I only ordered a smoothie though- I hadn't seen prices so high since the states! I have had the pleasure of cheap Indonesian food for the past six weeks: With Ocha, two full meals and two drinks is only about $2.50. After this, we didn't eat at any more fancy looking places. Roadside warungs for us.

Graduation

They had told me I had to do an American song or dance for graduation. But this all changed a few days before...when they told me I would need to give a speech instead. And this speech would be in Indonesian! I had Ocha help me out with the translation, so three days before appearing before the families of 85 children, I started memorizing. Memorizing a speech in your own language can be hard, but it is even more so when you don't know what any of the words mean! And to pronounce them! I practiced all the time, and I had all the words down. Of course my accent was terrible, and there was one word in particular- mengajar. Mba Ikha, one of the sisters, was trying to help me with the pronunciation. She was apparently saying two words, but I couldn't tell the difference. If I said mengajar one way, I was saying "to teach." But most of the time I ended up saying the other, which meant "to chase after someone." So yes, I messed it up in the speech. I said I was glad to be chasing after the kids. I also completely forgot part of the speech once I got up on stage, had to take out my scribbled notes. I hope I at least brought some smiles to their faces. I am sure I sounded pretty bad. The rest of the ceremony went well. All the kids came in their cute Indonesian attire- elaborate costumes with gold and shiny fabric, a ton of make up, fancy headdresses, and decorated hair. Everyone was served the white box with cakes like all other formal occasions. Afterwards, the teachers all had lunch together. They are a great group and I will miss working with them.

End of the School Year

We are winding down the last week of school here at the Global Ednovation kindergarten. Graduation will be this Sunday morning, and we have been practicing for it for the last week and a half. Different classes and groups of kids sing and dance. I just sit on the floor and try to keep the kids who aren't on stage from running around and completely tackling each other. Some of the girls really enjoy climbing over me or sitting in my lap. One girl, Calista, gets especially excited about me. She says I look like Barbie. Ive learned to brush my hair well before going to school, she likes to twirl it around, pet it, or tie it into a nest of knots. If I sit with my knees up, she will crawl under them like a tunnel, or climb on top and slide down my shins. It doesn't really matter, though, how I am sitting. She will push and pull on my legs to position them how she wants- to sit in my lap or crawl under my knees. Apparently my arm hairs are also incredibly fascinating. She likes to pet my arms and pull on the hairs. Oww. Last week I also went through English testing with the kids. Each student took between 10 and 40 minutes to complete the whole thing. I would first ask them simple questions: what is your name, where do you live, what is your favorite color. They then had to identify which word on a list said mother, and which said father. I went through about 30 flashcards with them. Knife proved to be the challenger, very few kids knew it. They then had to read a list of days, shapes, and nature. The final, and most challenging task, was to write down the letters and numbers I said. We often ended up with Indonesian letters, backwards letters and numbers, or completely random numbers. Oh, and remember how I found a fish in the sink while brushing my teeth one night? Well a few days ago, there were about 25 in the tank with the big fish. This morning...there were three. So yes, these 3 inch long fish are mere appetizers. Yesterday afternoon, Ocha and I went to a hair salon for a hair spa. I've never even done this in the states, but they put a bunch of cream on my hair and then gave a wonderful head and shoulder massage. After the steamer, they dried my hair and straightened it. It felt great. We went to the mall to buy something for Ocha's friend's birthday. We stopped at a photography place and took some pictures too. I never really know what we are doing until it actually happens. I either don't understand Ocha's translation, or I can't decipher the accent. Keeps things surprising though!