Up to this point my contact with any actual Balinese has been fairly minimal. When I was in Kerobokan for the first two days of my visit I was with LA ex-pats who, while incredibly kind, generous, and all around awesome, had not so much as explored a traditional Balinese diner. Thus, on day three, otherwise known as Ride of Terror/Liberation Day I had my first Balinese meal. It was delicious.
Now that I have been in Medewi for a few days the locals are starting to recognize me to an extent and start conversations. Rudimentary, broken conversations. There is a language gap and egotistical traveller that I am, I had not bothered to get a phrasebook. Americans. Really!
I ever so briefly walked through a fishing village just by the G’de before starting to feel self conscious, notching right and heading for the main road. I walked through town for a bit. That is if town is what you would call it. It’s mostly just a string of houses along the roadway with tiny convenience stores run out of the front here and there. There is a school which was in session on Saturday and a Mosque under construction. The nearest post office is at least 7km away. There is no sign marking the entrance to town so I have no idea what the population or elevation is. The roads are unmarked and frequently have more than one name anyway.
On my way back toward the G’de I was flagged down by the lady who runs the massage tent next door, Ul. She ushered me into her house to meet her daughter and grandbabies. It was very sweet and a bit awkward as her daughter was in fact nursing her newest grandbaby at the time. She told me about her daughters cesarian, her 7 brothers and sisters, and other little family tidbits. She insisted on making me tea and I only just managed to get her to not make me breakfast. When her brother-in-law came over we had a bit more awkward conversation before I managed to politely extricate myself but not without promising to come to the BBQ by the warung tonight.
Over lunch there was more of the same awkward conversation with Urna, her mom, and her dad. They took turns coming and sitting down with me chatting and seeing if there was any way I might like to spend my money. Massage? No thanks. Sarong? Not today. Fishing boat tomorrow, two hours? Nope. But thanks for asking. Eventually they drift off and I head back to my room for a shower and a nap.
And so, at 7pm I walked back out to the common area, took up a place on a bench and watched the surfers come in with an old Balinese man who very generously kept offering me Bintang and cigarettes.
Photos are not uploading well today, so until next time...
P.S. Mother, it's never going to happen. Though I appreciate your interest. xoxo
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