| BALI STORY 2000 - Day 10. |
| Sunday 24 September 2000. Day 10 Would you like to guess how we started the day? Wayan found some very sore spots this morning. I�ve not been doing my exercises, I�ve been sitting too long and walking too much. Now I�m paying for my sins of omission and commission. Despite my groans she keeps on returning to the left buttock and both calves, working her thumbs in deep with the aid of something that smells worse than Goanna Salve. When I think I�ve got to say enough, she soothes it all again by rubbing with the flat of her hands in the opposite direction. When it�s all eventually over she helps me up with a smile! I�m not going to say that I felt better (except that it was better when she stopped) but I am consoled when I find later that I have continued to get about for another day without agony. My notes say that I have just stopped for a couple of those orange coloured, tennis-ball size Passion Fruit. I can now see the evidence in the purple stain of their skin juice on the page, just like the banana oil yesterday. I spent half an hour exercising in the pool afterwards. Letting the warmth of the water soak in and letting the Bintang sweat out, watching the frangipanni flowers fall from the trees and listening to the slap of the waves on the beach which covered the background chatter of other guests at breakfast. Tough life this. We decide that this is the day to go to the Bali Street Dog Rescue Foundation. We see from Pamela�s �Thank You� card that it has now been re-named the Bali Street Animal Fund because they, and the volunteer vets from Oz, treat anything that villagers bring them or that they find on their street sweeps. This has included an elephant recently, and as she says, it�s not too many trained or trainee vets who have a chance to work on an elephant. We phone to get some clearer directions and she suggests that we get an orange cab because she regularly uses them to retrieve injured animals and they know where she is. We accept the suggestion and the hotel phones for an orange cab which are evidently centred in Sanur. Half an hour later we are still waiting and the desk clerk rings again only to be told that they have no cabs in the Tuban area at the time. We abandon the wait (foolishly as it turns out) and take a blue cab. We showed him the address and we are off, getting to Sidakarya Street in a surprisingly short time. The village, or suburb, of Sidakarya is a bit over halfway between Tuban and Sanur. Number 2 is at the start of the street but we can not find 2B, or anything that looks like a dogs home. When we ask a man sitting in a drive he waves further down the street but all we can find, no matter how far we go, are higher numbers. We drive up and down the street four times, with the driver asking everyone he sees and they all wave in the direction of the street where it ends at the T junction where the numbers are in the 60�s 70�s and 80�s. Eventually a man, back by No2, fabricating what appears to be aluminium display shelves for shops agrees to come with us and show the driver the right place. Although Sidakarya street seems to end in a T junction it actually continues around the right hand corner and the Foundation is in a cluster of houses on the right, not far around this corner and down a little lane. We would never have found it. Pamela is an enthusiast, and it should come as no surprise when you think of what she has dedicated herself to. She is American, a negro, and has the biggest eyes I can ever recall seeing. Her white hair is in the tightest, scalp hugging curls imaginable. She and Max, with his Astrakhan-like coat of grey (Ooops, sorry, SILVER) twists, would make a great double act. Having said that she is American do I need to note that she can talk? The house is traditional Balinese with separated building/rooms linked by covered bales (areas of raised floors) and breezeways. There is a little cultivated garden but mainly neatly trimmed lawns (read �grass�). The dogs, of normal Bali size and small, including a few pups, behave as you would expect dogs to do at home, perhaps with a bit more restraint � except for Stuart Little who is a little bucket of over active mischief. One of the more recent arrivals sort of hides for much of the time under a long-legged double bed in one of the breezeways while we all sit there sippin� soda and nibbling corn chip crackers with chilli dip. One of the not so recent arrivals climbs onto the lounge with us and innocently, surreptitiously, but persistently, adjusts his position of repose in such a way that �he� is forever getting just a little bit closer to those corn chips. He absolutely oozes across the covers. It seems that under all that repulsive stuff that surrounds them, if you can ignore it, Bali dogs are really just normal dogs in an abnormal state. This is one of the thrusts of the rescue effort. Although a number of dogs are put down if there are not the resources to save them from further suffering, those that can be rehabilitated are, with the aim that they should be returned to the Balinese people, either families or individuals, as pets. The concept of a dog as a cuddlesome pet is not part of the local culture and if the children can be given a feeling for pups or dogs a great step forward in the care of animals, and importantly in the control of animals, will be taken. There are signs that the tactic is working albeit in a small way. Individuals in powerful political positions who offer all sorts of exotic forest animals do not help the work though. If you�ve got a new shopping centre to open they can hire or sell you such attractions as tiger cubs, orang-outangs, baby chimps, birds and snakes, all at a couple of days notice. Where they come from and what happens to them afterwards seems of little concern. [LATER INSERT. A few days later I found out that, while I was writing this, Stuart Little died in his sleep. He had evidently been ill for only a short time but the medicine that he required was simply not available.] The web site, http://www.balistreetdogs.org.au, see the link below) is an Australian support organisation and gives a more varied account of the work being done, including the story of �Lucky�. You�ve probably guessed that we support their efforts. Back to the Matahari for the caps to take to the Forum Bar on Legian Beach. On the way we manage to do a little shopping at Mayang Bali, an apparently high quality (and high price) jewellery shop on the corner between Matahari and the Kuta markets. It�s not all high priced and Claire gets some more small elephant pendants for about A$15. I find it interesting to watch the little group of jewellers who work in a corner just inside the main door. The place really looks like a million dollars, and I�d be surprised if you couldn�t spend that much in there, but there are still some bargains amongst all those sparkles. From the Mayang to the Matahari we have to pass through the Kuta markets (Please don�t ask me to explain, in a geographic sense, how it is necessary to go south west in order to get north east. Just accept that, in a shopping sense, it is so.) to pick up an item or two. In relative terms this is a quick trip but I find it wise to buy another hat to keep the sun off my head for the period. I surprise myself by buying it cheaper than Claire has bought one for a friend. I�m surprised also to find that I can buy a watch for Rp30,000 from Arifa at shop #22, while we have been paying a �good customer special price� of Rp40,000 at our normal suppliers. It is a sign of the present times I think, and we are only mildly surprised when, later in our stay, Claire is offered two watches for Rp25,000 in Melasti street. Eventually we manage to get to Matahari�s and pick up the caps, and a few other things as well of course. Back at the Inn we have lunch around the pool, with a libation or two, shower and change for Sammi and Sussi�s Bali Travel Forum Bar on the beach at Legian, just up the coast a bit. Chris and I have been looking forward to this ever since first finding out about it on the Forum ages ago. It is really a simple thing. A Balinese couple, Sammi and Sussi, fill up a red esky with beer and ice each afternoon and take it to the beach by the lifeguards tower at about 5 pm. They have stools to sit on and from all parts of the world Forumites gather for refreshments and to put faces to names they have �met� on line. This goes on until sundown. There is a tropical and romantic aura to all of this, and a history as well. The story of the �advertising� umbrella that almost required the presence of the Indonesian army to restore order will surely be written into the history of the country. Some with no soul will say that it is all a ruse to get a group of tourists to sit down in one place while they are bombarded with the wares of the local sellers. We were disappointed because we expected too much perhaps, or perhaps because it was just a quiet night. It was good though to meet the only Forumites�, Bob and Ann (Melb)� who talked football to Phil for ages. There were others there who were not Forumites, friends of �Bob and Ann (Melb)� who had accompanied them on their trip to Thailand and an American who traded in gems which he had set in Bali. His stories of passing through customs, which he does regularly, were, to say the least, entertaining. The best was of the time he was asked to pay greatly more than usual and, after protracted negotiations only partly succeeded in reducing the amount, produced a US$1,000,000 note to pay the duty and asked for change. He described the circus act that followed, and the inevitable accusation that the note was a fake. To this he retorted that the gems were too, and his description of the laughter which followed all through the Customs room was especially poignant to those who had been recently caught with an excess of the demon drink in their cases. Their feelings were not eased by his tales of buying confiscated wines through an un-named supplier. Recently on the net �Bob and Ann (Melb)� reported that Sammi and Sussi were still wearing their embroidered caps and that they were now a badge of identification on the beach. Come sundown and we were off to Mama Luccias for dinner. Italian of course, with a bit of other cuisine thrown in for non-followers of the Orthodox faith. It is another of those reliable eateries like Kori�s that are a feature of the Kuta area. (I almost said �a feature of Bali� but I had visions of �not the real Bali� reflected in my glasses and just caught myself in time.) We went armed with champagne and a cask of good South Oz riesling to celebrate �daughter and son-in-law�s 25th wedding anniversary�. That meant Phil and Nell. I thought it was a much better thing to celebrate than my equally fictional 70th birthday that Nell had dreamed up at the Kin Khao a few nights ago. This is strictly an excuse to drink our own wines after having a few of their beers take the edge off our thirst. At least Papa got the chance to make the speech tonight, which the staff politely applauded at its conclusion. Mamas is not cheap. 20,000 for a Singapore Sling, 12,000 for a large Anker beer. Bruschetta was 9,900 but not up to the size or quality of Kori�s. Grilled Chicken was 18,900. I had a pizza for 30,000. It was the folded over type, like an Aussie or Cornish vegetable pasty in shape, but with great, empty, dry ends, and no tomato sauce to fill them with. The bit in the middle was tasty though. But for A$6.45 what should I have expected? In Bali, more than this! Bucatini Ala Amatriciana (Rp40,900) was more than Nell could handle but Phil is not one to be beaten and cleaned it up after declaring his Spag Bog. (35.900) partially satisfying. It is a noisy place and I find the atmosphere sterile and cold. By the way, it is interesting that the two good drinkers of the party have investigated Huey�s this afternoon and given it the big thumbs down, despite the freebie that comes after a couple and the great reviews given on the Forum. If you�re under 30 maybe, is their verdict. The too rare practise of including, in Forum reports, a profile of the writer and the social norms of the party clearly have value for others trying to assess the information and translating it into their own realms of personal relevance. What suits the kids (and I�m certainly not knocking their turn-on) is not always fodder for the goose and gander. To each his own. One man�s meat is another�s poison. Live and let live. Its all been said before in many ways but its easily and too often forgotten. Also by the by, there is a new section at Matahari�s, we think it�s new, offering bulk and packaged spices of all sorts, icecreams in familiar brands and Oz and NZ cheeses. Recent postings on the Forum indicate that all taxi fares have gone up recently so you may no longer get from Kuta to Nusa Dua for Rp15,000. We walk to the end of the street and catch Taxis back to the Inn, via ENI�s Tailors. This is to arrange for fittings in the cool of our hotel rooms tomorrow morning. It is not nice trying to fit fitting clothes onto a body that is hot and sticky from the walk down the street. I write up my notes while the others wind down (or up?) at O�Brien�s Bar under the Inn lobby. A nice shower and off to the land of nod. 16.10.00 - and the links are down there. |
| LINKS - Home Page. Back to Day 9. On to Day 11. Scot arrives today - to much excitement. I find the Bali Rock Crystal Natural Deodorant - I think. Fast Eddy and the Tuban markets. Dinner at the Pantai as the sun goes down. The Bali Street Dogs and Animal Rescue pages. Check out the large photos again. |
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