Hong Kong airport is impressive – a major hub for transportation in Asia. It was decorated for Chinese New Year. But the real attraction was finding gate 34 and meeting up with Idiot Daughter the Youngest who was joining them on vacation from her job in Shenzhen, China, for a week in Bali.
We’ve all had the “we’re not in Kansas anymore!” experience. The mind can’t fully integrate the input from one’s senses. The light, colors and shapes don’t match the visual templates our brains form through repetition. The smells and tastes are unidentifiable. The sounds don’t merge into familiar patterns.
The Idiots have had exotic experiences closer to home – they are reminded of a memorable midnight visit to a Walmart in Arkansas – but Bali has proven to be the most strikingly exotic destination in all their travels.
Even the airport provided “things that make you go hmmm.” In the restrooms… dishes of marigold blossoms – clearly replaced frequently… and complex instructions for proper toilet use. Not throwing refuse in the bowl seems fairly common sense, but standing on the seat and washing feet… those indicate a wider range of cultural diversity.
Architectural spaces work differently in tropical areas. In Bali there are only two seasons – rainy and dry – and they are both hot. Much living takes place in outdoor spaces. Even in a modern construction like the airport terminal, the outdoors and indoors flow into each other. Walking through the terminal, the Idiots were assailed by bright colors and hot, humid air.
It was reassuring to find Lopi in the chaos of drivers and touts at the terminal doors, waiting to drive them an hour or so from the busy economic, governmental and tourist areas of the south to peaceful Ubud in central Bali. Still within the airport grounds, the Idiots saw their first Balinese gate and were excited to grab photographs from the van. Lopi was somewhat bemused. The Idiots were not aware that they would see something like a million more gates, most of them much more interesting than this airport relic.
This gate does show all the basic elements of Balinese entries. There are stairs leading to the entrance. On either side of the stairs there are typically statues of protector gods. To the right of these stairs there is a monkey god statue. The statues often are dressed with fabric – in this case the black and white checks represent the dualities of life… good and bad, life and death… yin/yang kind of thing. Since this is a very large public entrance, the stairs are also flanked by plants and the pots are also “dressed” in black and white.
It was a couple of days later that the Idiots learned from their guide Sanny the reason for the shape of the side columns. By this time they had become accustomed to thanking people with the word “suksma” (prounounced SOOK-sue-mah, sort of…) and placing their hands together like “praying hands” only with fingers curved, and nodding the hands while bowing slightly. Sanny pointed out that the gate columns are like those praying hands.
Many entrances are “guarded” by fierce looking gods or animals. The idea is, of course, to prevent bad stuff from following you through. Even at the toll gates the Idiots were snapping photos out the van windows…
The main road has a number of impressive gigantic modern sculptures with religious/mythological themes.
The journey passes a seemingly endless series of buildings that inspire more exploration. They often have impressive entries, tile roofs ornamented with crowns and other decorations, shrines – in this case, on the second story… always more than one can take in without careful examination.
Another of the immense road art installations…
More sculpture… and just a taste of the motorbike culture that dominates transportation on Bali.
With only a few exceptions, the roads are narrow and winding. As Balinese people adapted to modern transportation, motorbikes dominated the roadways. By the time cars became common, it was too late to plan a road network compatible with larger vehicles. The result is a chaotic blend of traffic, made even worse by the introduction of increasing numbers of tourists. A village will center around a narrow, active road with buildings and carts pushing out to the very edge of traffic… then there will be cars going both ways, sharing the spaces with weaving motorbikes and various kinds of vehicles transporting commercial goods – and then the occasional giant tour buses bringing loads of tourists. Traffic is either busy – or creeping – or at a dead stop.
But here is the amazing part. Balinese people are the calmest people the Idiots have ever met. Driving situations that would prompt obscene gestures and road rage in most countries don’t even reach the level of “huh? on Bali. When traffic stops, drivers stop. When it flows, honking is common – but it is friendly honking, warning on blind curves, indicating pulling in, and so on. Balinese tend to live on “Bali time”. There are many places the Idiots visit that observe very flexible “island time”, but they have never been in a place where that easy sense of “what will be will be” extended so thoroughly into driving and traffic. T
he Idiots road for many hours in the back seats of vans with no seatbelts. In spite of the craziness of narrow roads and heavy mixed traffic, they felt extremely safe with their experienced drivers.
Roadside impressions…
The drive was exciting, but after more than 35 hours traveling, the Idiots were pleased to find their little slice of peaceful paradise in the village of Nyuh Kuning, just outside Ubud. The king size bed called… as did the on-site restaurant, spa, and swimming pool.
