My Love Affair with Bali
Posted by sideshowjudy on April 22, 2009
Removed from the dusty streets of Timor, I arrive in Bali, where holiday-making is everything art, science and pure decadence. No more complaints about mosquitoes, or failed air conditioning. Taxis throng the streets, long-stay foreigners meld into the Balinese landscape, zooming around on their scooters, most with some form of protective headgear on. There is fashion, art, culture, haute-couture food. Chilean wines, Italian dessert wines, British lagers…German bratwursts and French bistros.
I roll with decadence. Against the better side of me, I book myself into a 1 bedroom villa, with a private pool. Just me and moo moo, enjoying time alone and contemplating what happens when I go back to the realities of living with the parentals. Yikes! At the reception, I employ the best of Negotiation 101 and get myself upgraded to a 2 bedroom villa, with an even larger private pool. Not bad for a jobless schlep, huh?
My own private pool...sweet!
It’s hard not to love Bali. Ironically, I never used to like it. I have been here as a hungry backpacker, packed into unattractive accommodation in the sleaze of Kuta beach. Life is therefore minging, although warung chow is something to behold indeed. But today, sitting out on the beach, watching the waves and feeling the clean sand certainly has a magical feel to it. Love is found in the form of decadent villa-living now, with gentle water features that pour trickles of liquid into the pool; open-plan living, large-sized tubs with open showers. Love is found in the sun-beds that have thick bedded cushions and not crappy wooden platforms. Love is found in the multitude of fashion designers, hand-crafted ornaments and tasteful, modern furniture.
Me and Moo Moo enjoy our King-sized bed
I find myself having breakfast at The Tuck Shop, a canteen-like setting whose clean outlooks and modern lines remind me of Dean and Deluca in New York. Breakfast is a goat’s cheese crostini, with vinaigrette salad. The coffee is excellent, strong in taste and large in size. My idea of love.
I get into a deep discussion with Sabine, a beautiful Dutch model-turned-designer, whose love affair with Bali began several years ago after she ditched her European life and decided to end up in Asia on a one-way ticket. She says, “Everyone has a story with this island.” She is right. We are all here for one reason or another. I tell her that I am here to heal, she laughs and recommends me a couple of books and movies to watch. She gives me a kiss and says, “You will be strong. We all are. The men cannot be pressured. They cannot know that we know their flaws. We have to pretend silence. We go on with our life and they will come around.” Really? Sabine is right, that is why we all have to learn to let go. Because nobody really wants to know their flaws. People wish to have inklings about it, but not be confronted with a headmaster’s dressing down on their imperfections. She tells me that her boyfriend and her have broken up seven times over the last nine years. “He always comes back. Because I am strong for him. Because I wait for him. I could be with anyone, but nobody is as attractive to me as he is.” Wow, dedication. With that, she recommends a good dose of yoga, which releases the mind of pressures and the heart of want. I suppose, we all have our own ways of owning our life and taking things within stride. Some involve alcohol, others involve back-breaking triathlons, some employ moving on and meeting someone new, while others simply just choose to block the bad stuff out. Some just do all of the above and more. Whatever flies your kite, mate.
We banter about life in Bali, about her design work, the frustrations of communicating with the artisans here. Sabine is upset. “They always say they can do it. And the pink purse comes out green. Why?!” J Another one of those things that make this island a place that reminds us, we do have to work for some things. Not everything is that easy like ready air-conditioning.
It’s a place where one makes friends in an easy fashion. Where it is possible to spend hours exchanging life stories, sharing commonalities and enjoying fresh lime and pomelo juice. All this set against cotton shirts, straw fedoras and light-colored scarves.
The good duck...with the crispiest skin and yellow rice...almost like Confit!
Being in Bali is like being somewhere in a fantasy but with a reality backdropped into it. People are free to be whoever they want to be here. Bankers turn surfers, European families running away for the summer, models, artists, musicians, designers…everyone comes here because they were someone else in another world. Perhaps, that is the attraction for me, that I am spoilt for choice about where I can be, what I want to do and how I would like to play. But life can be good, with a good book (DH Lawrence – The first woman in love accompanies me), with good friends/ pets (moo moo on standby), a comfortable bed, wireless internet and a good music playlist.
where tourists are a whole different breed of people
No better time than to start tackling the tough issues of life’s bigger purpose. But first, I eat more.
Mee Goreng...yeah yeah! and Keropok! Yeah!
