Invited to Dinner

After many days of spending my free time with my friend Putu, he asked me if I would kindly join his wife Nyoman, his son Gede, and himself for dinner. I jumped at the chance to eat with a real Balinese family and thanked him for the wonderful offer.

Now right off the bat, Putu told me that he and his family had very little. I took this as a kind of heads up for what was in store. I got the impression that he almost felt ashamed of what he had before I had even gotten there. I firmly believe that no one should be ashamed of what they have in life and should be proud of who they are.

At times, it’s tough to relay this message to people. I usually try to compliment them as much as possible on what they have and thank them profusely for what little they have offered me. I always do this with a smile on my face because a lot can be lost in the translation. I also graciously accept anything that one offers me. Unfortunately this has gotten me sick twice, but it’s still no consolation to the pride they feel when they are able to offer me a gift, as small as it may be.

Another thing I try to be cautious of is how they feel about having photos taken of themselves, their possessions and their surroundings while I’m there. In this case, I knew right away that Putu would rather I leave my camera at home and just come and enjoy celebrating with his family. He gave me fair warning of his meager living conditions and I took this to mean that he would like it if I didn’t capture it on film. That is the impression I got, so I obliged to his unspoken wishes and left the camera at home.

We had arranged a time of 5:00 pm to meet at my bungalow. I was really excited to meet the family I had heard so much about. Putu was a very tough, proud man who was well respected by everyone. But as soon as you would mention his eleven-year-old son Gede, he would melt and get a great big smile on his face. I could really tell he was proud of him.

Putu picked me up at a quarter to five. He was early, which never happens, so I knew he was just as excited as I was for the big event. Our first stop was down the road a block or two; to where a woman was selling freshly caught tuna fish. I asked for six fish and she proceeded to cut and gut the fish with a rusty old blade. She then washed them in a bucket of blood stained water. This was the first indication that my belly may hurt in the morning. I smiled and thanked her for the wonderful catch that was going to feed us tonight. Grinning from ear to ear with one lone tooth revealed she nodded in approval.

So with fish in hand, we hopped on Putu’s motorbike and headed off to the village. After ten to fifteen minutes of passing through windy dirt roads, we motored up a steep hill and arrived at Putu’s home. Nyoman was standing outside ready to greet us while Gede was playing football (soccer) with the neighbor boys.

Nyoman spoke very little English so we both said hello, which is also how the Indonesians greet people, with a smile and I tried to communicate how beautiful her home was and that I was very grateful for the dinner invitation.

Five minutes after I got there, some of Putu’s friends who lived nearby came over to say hello and help with the food preparation. I think that they just wanted to meet this strange white person Putu had been spending so much time with.

They started the cooking process by breaking up coconut shells and spreading them evenly on the ground and then lighting them on fire. Soon there were some nice red coals onto which they placed a metal grate. The fish were thrown on that and the cooking began.

Our meal consisted of various fruits and vegetables, rice and fish. It was a delicious feast.

Here are a couple of things I found different. The men did not eat with the women. The men ate and the women ate after we were finished. We also didn’t use utensils and we ate the whole fish from head to tail. It tasted better than I thought so that was good. I’m used to eating fish that have been cleaned and filleted. It was quite the experience and something I’ll never forget.

After dinner, we all sat around and talked. Both Ari (Putu’s good friend) and Putu worked in the tourism industry so they spoke good English. They translated the numerous questions the other friends had for me. It made for some good laughs, a lot of new things learned about on another and a good bonding of two very different cultures. The night ended with many smiles and fond farewells. It was everything I was hoping for and more.

Rafting the Ayung River

I had been toying with the notion of going whitewater rafting for some time now. I had done it with my family once before and remember I enjoyed every second of it.

After talking with some people, I was informed that since it was low season in Bali prices for rafting were fifty percent off. This brought the grand total to thirty dollars. With these thirty dollars, I received guest house pickup, two hours on the river and lunch after we were done. It seemed like the perfect deal so I took it. I was booked to go the following morning.

I awoke early since the driver was picking me at 8:00 am. I figured I would be hauled along the hour-long trip to the river in a shuttle bus. The driver came and we left the guesthouse to what I presumed to be our transportation. I looked around and saw nothing sitting outside. Many things popped into my head. The two that seemed most logical were his vehicle was either parked up the street or he had a motorbike and I had been hosed by the company that sold me the ticket.

Thankfully it wasn’t the latter and to my surprise it wasn’t a shuttle bus either. It was a brand new top of the line SUV. And best of all, I had my own personal air-conditioning. I was in control of it. What a beautiful feeling it was. The driver even opened the door for me… I felt like royalty.

The drive up to the whitewater rafting company was very peaceful. The driver spoke only a tiny bit of English and once again, unfortunately, I wasn’t fluent in my Bahasa Indonesia. I enjoyed my quiet journey by marveling at the countryside. It was nice riding in luxury and watching the people, places and things as they slowly passed by.

We arrived at the rafting company at a little after 9:00 am. I was immediately greeted by the owner of the company who welcomed me and told me a little bit about the day. I could tell this was a well-run operation, easing mind that I hadn’t been suckered into a scam, something that had troubled me the night before. You never can be too sure because people will promise you the world to get at your money.

After the owner was done with me, I met my rafting partners. There was going to be four of us in the raft plus one experienced guide.

Scott and Rachel got married the week before and were here on their honeymoon. They were from Santa Monica, California. Scott is in Commercial Real Estate and Rachel works for a Non-Profit Environmental Agency that works with climate change. Pam was from Calgary, Canada and she worked as an accountant with a large International Firm. She was here on vacation like me. Our guides name was Nici. He was a likeable character with a good sense of humor.

Our team got geared up, armed with a faded red helmet that looked pink, a life jacket and a paddle. Nici went over some basic safety tips with us and explained that in the unlikely event that one of us fell in, we were to lie on our back, don’t panic, and wait for someone to rescue us. It sounded simple enough. The other instructions were to paddle forward, paddle backward and ‘boom’ which meant to hold on.

We pushed our raft into the Ayung River, hopped in and set off down the river for our two-hour journey. It was all getting pretty exciting. What I didn’t pickup on was that two hours was a long time to be riding the rapids. Most trips get done well before that.

As we moved along the Ayung River, I soon realized why it took two hours. The river didn’t move very fast. Not like the rapids we are used to in the States. Needless to say, there was a lot of paddling.

The pamphlet I received from the company described the trip as this: “Sobek’s two hour, visually spectacular rafting trip down the Ayung River is a mix of excitement, breath taking views and informative and educational sightseeing. Carving through some of Bali’s most fantastic landscape, the Ayung River provides a thrill the moment you push off from the riverbank. Class II & III rapids wind through deep valleys, cascading waterfalls, dense tropical rainforest and towering cliffs.”

The description was pretty spot on except for the wildness of the river. Everything else was great about the trip. We saw magnificent landscape, went under many waterfalls, and were taught some educational things by Nici. I definitely didn’t have any complaints about the experience.

At one point, there were maybe 40 workers that were carving into the rock on the side of the cliffs. After a few years, moss covers these carvings making them appear to be ancient, as we saw further down the river. It was amazing the talent these skilled workers had. I could have been fooled by the carvings authenticity and I’m sure many others will in the years to come.

We would stop every now and again to hop in the water or take some photos. I think the breaks were mainly for Nici to get his nicotine fix. He was always happy when it was break time. I didn’t mind because it gave me time to take in my surroundings. I guess it was a win-win situation.

Our raft journey ended after much conversation, many beautiful scenes and a few rapids that required Nici to yell ‘boom.’

We departed our raft and headed up the long stone path towards the top of the towering cliffs. We were once again greeted upon our arrival and handed towels for showering. After cleaning up a bit, we sat down for a wonderful meal they had prepared for us.

The four of us, Scott, Rachel, Pam and I, sat together and had a nice lunch full of conversation. I had a great day and it’s something I’m glad I did. I met some wonderful people and saw some amazing things. It was well worth the thirty dollars and it definitely exceeded my expectations.