yummy yummy yummy i've got coconut in my tummy

Have I told you about the food yet???  Ooooooooh the FOOD!  It’s like.... everyday is a new food adventure.... most of the time I have no idea what I am eating, but that’s ok because it tastes so GOOD!

Now, I will admit that last week I got a burger and fries because some days you get so SICK of rice (btw the meat was a strange texture and the spices were all wrong! But it was still yummy yummy... and the fries were PERFECT) Everything comes with rice... fried rice, steamed rice, black rice, rice rice rice.  I think I am getting used to the copious amounts of rice... no.  I am beginning to hate rice (don’t listen to me, I’m hung over today so I hate everything.  All the time. Except for food.  Gotta love food.  Even rice (see just give me two seconds and my hate turns to love)) 

Dinner is divine... my most eaten dish is the nasi goreng... fried rice with veggies, chicken, and prawns served with a fried egg on top, and these crackers... shrimp I think.  There is also mie goreng... same thing but with fried noodles instead.  gado gado is ever interesting... I am not sure what some of the things on my plate are... but there is tofu, and veggies, and peanut sauce...  FOOD ON A STICK!!  Oh so much food on a stick... satays, and this interesting shredded chicken that packed on the end in this yummy sauce... coconut milk in sauces!!! SUCH a good idea! I have decided that coconut should be with everything all of the time.  Cap Cay (pronounced chap chay... all c’s make a “ch” sound, oh, and all g’s make a hard “g” sound like in “goofy” never like the g in “large” even if it’s a word that looks like it should, like Legian (the city I’m in) is pronounced with the “goofy” g (sounds like lee-G-yen)) is steamed veggies with a broth served with steamed rice (which is great when your tired of fried rice and need more veggies in your diet).  

Mie Goreng

Cap Cay

Gado Gado

I don’t think there is a difference in lunch... at least in the restaurants I eat at there is just an “Asian” or “Indonesian” or “Balinese” section... So I don’t know if any are more “lunch” or “dinner” dishes... hmmm maybe I’ll ask someone...

Breakfast... it is very easy to find an “American” breakfast... greasy bacon, greasy sausage, eggs, and toast (with pineapple jam and orchid butter hahha) but it’s really not right... just not right...  “Indonesian” breakfast (as it says on many menus) is nasi goreng or mie goreng with no meat.  So, there you have it... same thing for breakfast, lunch, and dinner... no, you don’t HAVE to eat the same thing for every meal (but you can! And it’s totally acceptable, which is nice cuz once I lived off rice pudding for a few weeks and I got a lot of guff for eating so much of the same thing) oh oh oh!!!  The OTHER thing I see for breakfast.... mmmmm..... there are BANANA PANCAKES!!  And they are GREEN!!! Hehehehe.  GREEN BANANA PANCAKES!!  WITH SHAVED COCONUT AND COCONUT SYRUP!   For breakfast mmmmmm.... with a fruit plate and Bali coffee... mmmmm.... or, jaffles!  Which is a grilled sandwich with no crust (? Maybe just at the place I was eating.. no, bread doesn't seem to have crusts on it... and sometimes it's green!) served with banana, or tomato and egg, or probably other things but that's all I’ve had...   

Banana Pancake

Dessert.... Pancakes (and I LOVE  how those are breakfast AND dessert) mmmmm black rice pudding with coconut milk and cane sugar (party in mouth... which is ALSO considered a breakfast in some restaurants)... FRIED BANANAS!!!  Mmmmmmmmm like... bananas coated in something and deep fried....  but.... by far... the best... thing.... I have ever eaten.... in my life.... bananas coated in rice flower, fried, and served with shaved coconut and cane syrup.....  I can’t even.... it’s just so... better than... uuuuggggggmmmmmmmm *drools*  

Banana Coconut Yummyness

I have decided that coconut should be a part of every meal.  In some way... little chunks... shaved pieces... coconut milk... coconut syrup...  it’s your choice.  But it should be there.

Some yummy coconut, beef, and Balinese spices dish

Drinks... Bali coffee.... its like... powdered coffee... so there is always some coffee sludge in the bottom of your glass, and I am getting used to having it with just sugar no cream (I’m lactose intolerant and non-dairy creamer does not seem to exist here) I am really beginning to love it... like, I don’t even miss that OTHER coffee I used to drink... well I had an iced Americano a couple of days ago and I got so wound up I felt like I was on drugs (not that I would know what that is like.....) so perhaps Bali coffee is less in the caffeine department.... oh! Ginseng coffee!!!  Uuuuuugggghhhhhhmmmmmm I can’t even describe the yummyness that is that.... really, no words.  Just uuuuuuugggggghhhhhhmmmmmm.  Arak.  It’s made from rice wine.  It’s the only booze I can afford (you can find it for as low as 25.000idr ($3ish) for a cocktail, which is half the price of most booze (except for beer, Bintang is the beer here and it can be found for cheap)) They make some yummy cocktails... Arak Attack (hehhe... love the name... hate the taste) ... oh, Bali Moon.. it’s a brand of flavoured liqueurs... and there are some super yummy sugar filled cocktails... AND you can get 2 for 1 during happy hour (which makes Heather so happy) oh! And booze in the corner store!!! Yaaaay! AND you don’t get fined for buying the 20.000idr cooler and walking down the street drinking it (yes, that is exactly what I was doing last night).  And where has fanta been all my life???  It’s like crush (the soda pop) but BETTER.  I think that's an Australian thing maybe?  It’s make by coke or something (one of the big ones).  And the sizes!!  You can get these cute little coca-colas ...  they are like, half the size of the 250 (ml?) ones that are popular... and I never see the big 2ltrs... there is a smaller one instead...  juice... so many juices!  Papaya, Mango, Watermelon, Coconut, Banana,  mmm.... there are TONNES in the corner store, and if you order juice in a restaurant its blended and sooooo yummy in the heat!! (provided that it's made with mineral water... always ask.  Always)

Munchies!!!!  I always go to the store and buy new and exciting munchies... it’s super exciting cuz I cant read the labels some of the time... so I have no idea what to expect... AND since this is such a tourist destination there are munchies from ALL OVER THE WORLD so I have no idea what country whatever I am trying came from....  There is this stuff that is like cornflakes and has a sweet and spicy coating on it (mmmm), and tick tack snack... little balls of crunchy that comes in different flavours, and cha cha’s!!!!  They are like peanut m&m’s but faaaar superior, and these chocolate wafer things, and lemon pies (very disappointing), and coconut cookies (exactly the yummynesss I expected), rice cracker wafer things that come like chips, egg covered peanuts, and sooooo much more that I need to try!!  And the flavours!!  So different than what I am used too.... one of the most common seems to be chicken and garlic flavoured (such a good idea) and a lot of shrimp flavoured, and seaweed flavoured.   And the fanta... but I already told you about the fanta.

Assorted Candy

So, as you would expect... I have definitely lost absolutely no weight.  That whole “its hot so my appetite will be suppressed” idea was crap.  I’m a glutton.  I love food.  All food.  So yummy.  My tummy protrudes....  But I walk a lot... so it will be ok... and Thailand will have spicy food right? Then I will eat less... cuz spicy + hot climate has got to = weight loss. 

Or maybe I’ll just drink the water.  That’ll make me loose a few pounds.

why i'm awesome

Let me take a moment to inform you that I, Heather Riopel, after three weeks of travel in Bali, am actually... (wait for it)... on budget!!!!  (seriously... I’m not kidding).  Shocking... I know!  Let me tell you, I am the first one to check the math twice on this...

How on earth did I manage that you ask? Well, it was simple. 

I tricked myself.

hahahahah.  Yep, I’m that bad with money.  Really, I absolutely, positively possess zero (zip, natta) self restraint when it comes to buying things.  (yay! Things!!!  Pretty things! Shiny things!).  I’m sure you are wondering now how I managed to save up the money to embark on this adventure... perhaps if I have a clear and exciting goal in mind I can squash my shopping bug... heheh... save money?  What? Me? ...  No.  I sold everything I owned (*sigh* all that pretty stuff).  Actually... hehehe... I was too heartbroken to think about living in Canada WITHOUT all of my pretty stuff, I didn’t sell anything really... because I wanted to keep it all until the last possible moment before I left, and selling it would have meant that I would have had to advertise it, and if someone happened to give me money for something, I would have to part with it... (which coincidentally means I also did not prepare at all to leave until my departure was imminent...  and a big thanks goes out to my loving parents and darling brother who helped me out of THAT lack of foresight)  So I sold my most expensive possessions (the ones that lived in the driveway) and gave everything else away (I hope your all enjoying my wonderful stuff *tear*).

Wow, I’m really good at losing my train of thought aren’t I! What was I prattling about??  Oh yeah...  How did I trick myself into staying on budget?

I told myself, and everyone else, that I was on a $30 a day budget... 15 for accommodation, 15 for food.  I try (oh, how hard I try... wait... is that a cute shirt?) to stick to that budget... and I have been stressing about how far I must be blowing it already (in case you didn’t know, I don’t have much of a financial “bumper” for this three month trip and living in Thailand thing... like... I don’t have any extra money.  at all.  Daddy... I swear, if I ask for money... I DIDN'T blow it all on clothes *bats her eyelashes*).   I swear, I have been REALLY good at staying at crappy hotels... like.. you should see some of the resorts I’m missing out on, and instead I get to stay in bedbug inn’s (there is a new cluster of bites on my left knee... but we are in denial about that for the moment.  It’s just one cluster, seven bites... they look more like mosquito bites anyway... it could be anything....) and I NEVER pay more than $5 for a meal (unless of course I decide to splurge on an alcoholic drink... then that easily doubles)

Anyway, back to how I’m NOT asking my parents for money (yet).  So, I pretend that I am on a $30 a day budget, and stress out each time I get a fruit juice, or new dress, or dessert, or a massage, or a piece of jewellery, or a lounge chair on the beach... or, well, basically anything that is not basic food or shelter.  So, tonight I decide to check my bank account and do the math (don don don) since I am nearing the end of the first month, and I feel like I am withdrawing money every other day... and I discover (to my elation) that although I SAY I have a $30 a day budget, I ACTUALLY allotted myself enough money to spend on average $60 a day!!!

Of course, my first thought is how smart I am to know myself well enough to know that I have to trick myself and say that I have half the money I am able to spend to ensure that I don’t spend more than I am able to (actually, my first thought was “darn I should have bought that cute $30 Roxy shirt I was looking at this afternoon”).  But... lets not get TOO excited...  remember, that number also includes plane tickets, taxis, ferry’s, shuttles, and all modes of transportation (which adds up).  And that was the reason that I initially decided (and conveniently forgot) that I would try to live off of half of my available funds.

So, my plan now is to somehow forget (again) that my daily budget is twice the amount that I have been thinking... because if I am consciously aware of my new twice-the-fun budget, I will surely blow it before I enter into month number two.

Did anyone follow that?

Doesn’t matter... moral of the story... I’m awesome. 

unexpected differences

There are a few things that came completely unexpected for me: vast amounts of second hand smoke, the sheer volume of insects, clean is actually a relative word, and garbage does not magically disappear.

Everybody smokes.  Really... everyone.  For starters there is the fact that people can smoke anywhere: temples, restaurants, inside stores, and in hotel lobbies (hahah, I can’t think of anywhere else I go!).  This has been making me appreciate the smoking bylaws where I am from... getting a chunk of cigarette ash blown into your food during your nice beachside dining is enough to ruin one’s appetite (at least for this ex smoker).  Now, I don’t think that it is just because people are allowed to smoke everywhere... I think there really is far more smokers.  Basically every single local man I have seen has one hanging out of his mouth... and every tourist I have spoken to smokes (and seems surprised that I don’t) and everyone I seem to pass by is smoking... even pregnant women (not that I am judging her choices, it is just a sight that I have rarely seen in public).  It’s funny... a large part of the reason I quit two years ago was because I felt like such a social outcast when I smoked... now it seems I am the odd one because I choose not to....

In addition to the copious amount of second hand smoke I am ingesting, I am quite surprised by the vast amount of insects.  If you look at any spot (any spot, in any location) for a length of time you realize that it is not still as you had originally thought, but instead it is a thriving population of some type of insect (most commonly ants).  So, there you are lounging by the pool working on your tan (putting some time in at the office as Caitrin likes to say) and you lazily look up to watch the clouds slowly roll by... at first you don’t even see the power line above you, and as you focus on it you realize that it seems almost alive... and then you realize that an ant superhighway is busily going on only feet from where you are laying....  That’s ok... they are pretty far above me (ok, so there are also some crawling on me... but only a few) but I am just tanning I can handle it.  Then you go out for dinner at one of those cool restaurants with really low tables and pillows to sit on, and you choose this cozy looking table that’s in a gazebo beside a pond with lush rainforest vegetation surrounding it... it’s so different from anywhere you have ever eaten... so exotic... so exciting... so cheap!  And as you sit there enjoying your ethnic meal, you stare blankly at the ground (as I like to do) and the longer you stare, the more you realize that it’s alive... with ants!  Big ants (freaking huge things) tiny ants, black ants, brown ants, ants whose middle seems transparent...  Do you have any idea how many meals I have gotten with a lone ant crawling on my plate?  I have decided that if a little bugger gets in my food, its just extra protein.  Right?

It’s not just the smoke residue and bugs that make me want to bathe more often (ugh and the sticky heat) but nothing is ever... clean.  Like, Canada clean (that’s my new term... it means clean like I used to expect... smelling like fresh laundry, not sticky at all, no smudges or fingerprints, no soap residue or black marks,  no bedbug stains, toilet seats I would sit on, mirrors you can see your face clearly in... ) Not only do things rarely present as Canada clean, but they are also run down.  Paint bubbles and falls off walls, bathroom ceilings sag, tables always seem to be wobbly, and there is this smell everywhere... mold and mildew maybe?

Finally, the thing that most surprises me (and in retrospect it really shouldn’t, but I was very naive) is the GARBAGE.  I say this shouldn’t surprise me because I know very well that I am from a very privileged country where everything seems to be provided  (for a charge of course).  Like dumpsters and garbage removal.  I am unsure of how the garbage removal systems works here, all I know is there is far more garbage than I am used to seeing.  There is always garbage on the streets and sidewalks... food wrappers, juice containers, cigarette butts, yesterdays offerings... some of it has been pounded into the ground by hundreds of feet. On the beach (ah, the beautiful beach) there are cigarette butts everywhere, and when a breeze comes up a piece of discarded paper will fly right onto your body.  And as your walking down the street, or through the market, you can turn the wrong corner and there is just a huge pile of garbage sitting there.  Sometimes it is half hidden by a removable fence, sometimes it is just right there, out in the open.  At first I thought the garbage all over the streets was from the tourists (and I went through a time where I was disgusted by the way we have exploited this beautiful island... but that’s a story for another time) but I think that it is caused by the fact there is not a garbage removal system like there is in Western world.  At least garbage is not contained the same (like in dumpsters) so it seems to be spilling out everywhere....

I think I will make this the last of my “culture shock” blogs....  hhaha, I seem to be neglecting to write about all of the amazing things I am experiencing (like, I got to eat at this amazing little restaurant where I sat on a pillow in a gazebo beside a pond, and I paid less than $5!) and instead I am writing about my misadventures (I thought about changing the name of the blog to “Heathers misadventures in Southeast Asia” since I seem to be stumbling into mess after mess!)  I did not intend to focus on the negatives...

I swear, next blog... sunshine and lollypops! 

fuzzy wuzzy was my hair

Ok, I am starting to feel like Bali is kicking my ass.  Seriously, if we were in a fight I’d be one punch away from being KO’d.

I know, I know... I’m in a beautiful place with cheap food and hotels, beautiful beaches and scenery, and interesting and unique culture.  Bla bla bla.  But, there is a part of traveling that many people seem to leave out when they tell their story’s.... for me, it is summed up by the condition of my hair.

I had a friend tell me once that my hair is like a gauge of my mood... the fuzzier it is, the bitchier I seem to be.  Perhaps the correlation is caused by the fact that I care less about the appearance of my hair as I become more tired and/or stressed out.

My hair, as you could probably imagine, is a mass of unruly, frizzy, jumbled curls.  This is in part because of the insane humidity in this climate, and in part because I simply stopped caring about what my hair looks like (that happened around the bed bug incident).

Now, my terrible hair is only a part of my marred appearance... In addition to the (partially healing) bed bug bites all over my body, I seem to have developed a rash on my face and neck.  Just my face and neck.  No, no...not somewhere that could be covered even a little bit... aaaaall over my right check and neck.  No idea what it is... but I commend it for choosing a body part that is so visible (it’s like its screaming at me... LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME!  DEAL WITH THIS NOW! .... but alas, I know not what it is and so am incapable of getting rid of it... at least nothing I have tried has worked so far). If I were in Canada and such a thing sprung up, I would simply use makeup to minimize it... oh, don’t even think about trying to use makeup in the climate.  A little bit of eye liner and mascara is all I can manage.  Anything else would melt off your face the instant you applied it.  I am constantly soaking the sweat of my face with my bandana... it’s like a waterfall all day long.

Yes, I can (and am) deal with the fact that my appearance is not quite up to the standard that I am accustomed to.  But add that with the bugs (no, I wont go into detail about THAT incident... you can read back to “when bedbugs attack”) and then the fact that I burnt my butt and feet today at the beach (also my back, back of my upper arms, and the back of my thighs... but the but and feet are most painful since my shoes constantly rub and my feet and I am sitting on my butt!) and then my smartest move yet... today I discovered that I lost my bank card.

What?  Who could be so stupid and absent minded as to lose one’s only means of purchasing little comforts such as food and shelter??  Hahahhhah... Really though.  It’s gone.  No idea where it is.  I can only assume I left it in a bank machine in Kuta (which makes me laugh because its so utterly stupid).

*sigh* Caitrin says it has to go up from here... really the only thing that's left to happen is for my backpack to get stolen (knock on wood) ...

I would engage in my favorite coping strategy and get drunk... except for the fact that even though hotels can be found for $20, meals cost $3-$5, and clothes can be bought for $3-$10... for some reason alcohol is $5 a drink!!!!  I’ll leave the drinking for Thailand... I am told its dirt cheap to get drunk there...

Don’t get me wrong, I’m having a blast... although Bali has decided to kick my ass, she is being kind enough to soothe me with luxuries I could not afford on the other side of the world, like $3 dinner on the beach, long days tanning in a lounge chair, late mornings sleeping until I feel like rolling out of bed, and my only responsibility is to figure out where to go next....

beachside dining

If you wanna have a cheap yummy dinner on the beach, go to Sanur.

Wait... Let's back up. Where am I and how did I get here.

We learned one very important lesson during our move from Kuta to Sanur... Know the name of the specific street you want to be dropped off on.

We thought our request was straightforward... We wanted the main street in Sanur... we were dropped off on a street that the driver said was the main street..... It was not.

After what seemed like hours walking in ridiculous heat beside a raging highway (ok, maybe not hours, but that insane backpack I brought will make a walk down the block feel like hell) we finally found the street we wanted. (remember, this was no walk in Canada... the sidewalks are atrocious so every few steps you almost walk into something that will break your leg, motorbikes are parked all over so you have to go out onto the highway to pass them, and sweat drips from every part of your body) suffice to say I felt like kicking puppies.

To make our moods worse, once we finally got to the place we thought we wanted to be, the two hotels we had written down turned out to be crap (thanks wiki travel) but luckily we asked around and were sent to a cute little place with a bathroom/kitchen that was practically outside! I know it sounds strange, but it was pretty cute.

Wow. What a difference a shower and that weight (literally) lifted off my shoulders made!!! I felt like a new person... You know, one that likes other people.  Or maybe it was the $6 hour long full body massage that made me human again....

Lesson learned: no winging it... Know exactly where you are going.

Anyway... Back to me having dinner on the beach....

If this place had a beach I'd swim from (this ones nice to look at, but I wouldn't let the sand or water touch my body... It just looks infested with something and there are drainage pipes that go into the ocean everywhere... I am afraid to ask what they are draining) this would be my favourite place in the world.

It's quiet here in a way that's calming. Kuta was so busy, so loud, so intoxicating (if you stood close enough to an Australian you would probably get drunk off his breath). Sanur is Kutas lazy sister. Rich European families lazing around, good shopping with less pressure, and countless beachside restaurants. There is this walkway that goes on forever with a plethora of shops and food (my two favourite things!). And decent hotels with pools for less than $30!! (bedbug free I hope.... Seriously, I have spent so much time and money trying to debug my life it would be depressing to get them again!)

If I were to get married I would totally honeymoon here... But I'd pay for the swanky hotels. Oh yeah, that reminds me of another lesson we learned yesterday. If you are a traveller on a budget: Never ever, under any circumstance, for any reason whatsoever, go into a swanky hotel and ask to see a room. Trust me. It's best you leave it to your imagination, because you can't even imagine what your missing out on.

It's ok. I don't need those places... I'm content to stay in hotels with toilets I won't sit on and showers that have never been cleaned. Clean sheets are overrated and bedbugs make me feel loved and needed.

I know, I'm sitting on the beach in Bali sipping a cup of tea and watching the sunset. Clearly you should be feeling sorry for me.

an ode to the abandoned clothing

I would like to take a moment of silence for the clothing that has been left behind.

Yes mother. It took me less then a week...

1 pair of black lulu lemons (seriously, try wearing that material in this heat... I dare ya)
1 pair of black yoga shorts (see above)
2 sweaters, 1 black 1 gray (an absurd choice to bring)
1 green shirt (sigh... This I loved, but I bought something new that looks similar)
1 purple shirt (if you don't wear it at home, don't bring it)
1 pair of beige knee length shorts (see above)
1 blue sports bra (didn't even wear it... 4 bras is overkill)
2 travel towels, 1 large 1 small (I brought three. Three! I kept the medium sized one and will use a sarong to dry off)
1 white scarf (covered in bedbug stains... bad memories)

1 blue tshirt (just making space)

1 brown tank top (see above)

Happily this has been replaced with many dresses and other new clothes. So, nope... My backpack is not any lighter, I just had to make room for the new stuff. Clearly this list of abandoned belongings must grow.  My backpack is bigger than me!! This can't be good...

I suppose I will have to leave a trail of abandoned Canadian clothing and luxuries from Bali to Bangkok...

Tidak Terima Kasih

If you ever stay in Kuta, you have to learn to say no.

Everyone is trying to sell you something. EVERYONE. Clothing, trinkets, glasses, wallets, purses, messages, hotels, surf lessons, tours, manicures, rides, food... Anything you can think of, a Balinese person is shoving down your throat.  It's so overwhelming, my first few days I could barely think.  Due the pressure, excitement and the heat, I made some purchases I regret (a stupid ugly purple dress, and a ridiculously expensive tour.... Ugh don't get me started on the tour... )

So, there are different ways you can say no, and they seem to elicit different responses. It has taken a few days, but I think I understand which one to use, and when.

If you are walking down the street and even glance into a store the merchant will immediately start with “I give you good price!” “Just come look!” You can politely say “no thank you” and at times it will work... but for some merchants that just tells them that you speak English, and that combined with the color of your skin (if you happen to be Caucasian as I am) just puts a big MONEY sign on your head.  Some will actually start following you down the street, practically begging you to come into their store.  Don’t be silly and give in... once you’re in there, its next to impossible to leave without buying something.  They start telling you that their grandma is sick, or a sad looking women will look towards her child and say she needs money to go to the market... (it tugs at your heartstrings....) At this point, the only thing that saves you from spending unnecessary money is bringing out the Indonesian.

Tidak Terima Kasih.

Once you demonstrate that you have attempted to say “no thank you” in Indonesian, it seems to show them that you mean business.  Maybe because you actually made an attempt to learn the language they respect you more (it seems that most tourists in Kuta don’t bother), or maybe hearing “no” in their own language makes them realize that you actually mean no... whatever the reason, it seems to get even the pushiest merchant to lay off at least a bit.

In addition to avoiding the merchants, walking down the street can be aggravating when your trying to have a conversation and every few feet a man asks you “transport?” .. you say ”no thank you”..  then the man sitting right beside him asks you again, “transport?” again, you shake your head to indicate “no” ... then the man sitting DIRECTLY beside him, “transport?” ... then you answer “tidak terima kasih” ... and of course the man sitting next in line, who clearly saw you decline a ride from the previous people says “transport?” at that point I usually give up with the pleasantries and give a short “tidak.”  After that, I figure it’s not rude anymore to simply ignore the offers...  But then, you walk a few for feet and a new group of men are sitting by the sidewalk and it starts all over again...

I think that it is easiest to say no at the beach.  You are laying there, enjoying the sound of the waves, soaking up the sun, and watching all the surfers... then a woman comes by and offers you sarongs... at the beach I go straight to “tidak terima kasih” (I just want to tan, and I don’t even have money on me!) but they continue to come...  a man comes by and offers ice cream, then a women offering messages and manicures, then a man offering head chair/pillow things, then a young man wants to teach you to surf...  The best way to ensure that they all just stay away is to lay on your stomach and undue your bikini top... this says “leave me alone, I’m here for the sun.  Look, I couldn’t even sit up anyway.”

It is next to impossible to stay in Kuta without spending more money than you intended... there is just too much pressure all around you... but trust me, it’s worth it to at least attempt to say no in the local language, if nothing else it makes you feel all worldly and smart!!

when bedbugs attack

It took me three days of traveling to get bedbugs.  Three.  3.  Tiga. !!! A Balinese man told me I have “sweet blood” and that’s why they like me.  yeah. right.  A Balinese man will tell you anything... but I shall leave that for another post.

So, first two nights in Bali and we stay in this dive of a hotel... like, we didn’t even ease into this... just straight to the $12 hotel, no toilet paper, towels, or bedding... clearly it has never been cleaned.  I couldn’t imagine how one could possibly get clean in a bathroom so dirty... but... it had a shower (well, a shower head in the middle of the bathroom that soaked the toilet when it was turned on) it was in a good location, and the beds were very comfy!   I woke up the first morning with tiny little fast moving unidentified bugs.  No big deal.  I’m in Indonesia, or course there are bugs.

After the second night we would have stayed longer, except that two Australian girls moved in next door and we couldn’t imagine trying to get through another night of them drunkenly coming back and trying to get into our room, banging around, and having loud sex (don’t let me get started about the Aussys around here... not to over generalize... but ... wow).  So we decided to move up.

After shopping around a bit we found this beautiful hotel: two pools, ac, fridge, tv, beautiful bathroom, nice sitting area, breakfast provided, even a picture on the wall!  It was $30 which is just at the top of our price range, but still doable.  (we could have paid $20 for a non ac room, but the ac one had a fridge and that’s sooo worth it!)

We paid for two nights and excitedly moved into our new home.  We naively put our belongings in the shelves and drawers, laid our sarongs and bedsheets on the beds, and patted ourselves on the back for finding such a nice place.

I slept well that night knowing that I was in a higher quality accommodation, and feeling as though this was a life I could live.

In the morning I woke up slowly.  I opened my eyes and stared at the wall for a while (as I like to do) and watched little bugs crawl around.  Little blackish circular bugs.  I saw a few, crawling up the wall, and over the sheets.   I saw some that were big and some that were small, and even some tiny little red ones.  I thought... “hmmm these look like bedbugs” (when I worked at streetlink I had the opportunity to become very familiar with them) but then I thought... “no no.  It’s daylight.  Bedbugs wouldn’t be out at this time.  But, if there was a particularly bad infestation....” (and I recalled the man bringing me a dead bedbug that was running across the hallway in the evening, the shelter was so infested that they could be seen in daylight...)  but no, no.  They can’t be bedbugs.  I must be mistaken, it has been a year since I have seen one.

We paid for two more nights.

I brought my netbook to breakfast to do a little research.  After looking at pictures and reading about them, I became more fearful of the little harmless friends that I awoke to.   Caitrin logically stated that we have no bites, so they probably aren’t bedbugs.  Surly bedbugs would have bitten us.  We pushed aside our anxiety and went about our day.

That evening we arrived home late (fyi everywhere I stay is home, since I am technically homeless now).  I sat on the bed and we thought about the bedbug possibility again.  We went over all of the information and observations we had... little circular brownish bugs crawling around (the same shape, size and color as a bedbug), shells of bugs in the bed (as they mature bedbugs shed their skin), tiny red bugs (similar to baby bedbugs), brownish blackish smears on the sheets (feces of a bedbug)  ... there was one crawling up the wall... there was one crawling over my pillow!!  Caitrin wanted to look for more evidence.... I, however, had decided that ignorance was bliss and I would not deal with it.  (silly Heather)

Caitrin (oh, what would I do without her!!) ignored my childish plan to ignore the problem and caught the two that where on the wall.  We had decided that there was too much evidence towards bedbugs, and were certain that’s what it was.  And since they were so blatantly walking about the room with the lights on... it was bad.  Very bad.  We (really just she) brought the captives to the front desk to complain.  We told them that these bugs were all over our beds and in our pillows, and what we thought they were.

The clerk did not react in a manner that would suggest he was surprised.  He immediately offered to switch us rooms, and told us to leave our contaminated belongings in the old room for the night and they could be washed in the morning.  He suggested that we take good showers and wash our hair as well.  He was apologetic and stammered about how it is a big problem in France, and some French people had stayed in that room recently.  I assured him that there are bedbugs in Canada as well, and we know that it is a risk of staying in any hotel, but we just wanted a room that was bug free.

The next morning the bites became visible. (it can take up to a week)

First my elbow.  Then my lower arm.  Then the back of my bicep.  My shoulder...both shoulders!  As the day went on, more bites appeared.  My legs, my feet, my stomach, my neck and chest, the back of my neck... I try not to visualize the hundreds of bugs that were ravishing my body throughout the night.

I chose to come here.  I knew the risks.

Oh, how happy I was that I had Caitrin!!! If it wasn’t for her I would have been a human buffet for a second night (yah, her bed was fine... only I was marred) If they did that much damage in one night... imagine if I had slept there for two!

We did all we could... I sent every piece of clothing I had to be washed and dried (oh how I hope that they used hot water, but who really knows?) and the hotel paid the charges (they tried to charge, and I politely informed them that most of what I was getting done was clean, why on earth would I pay them to debug my clean clothes?)  I went through every stitch of my purse (washing would ruin it) and shook out everything that was in it.  I am holding my breath about my backpack and other non clothing possessions...  If it didn’t touch the bed, then I’m not going to worry.  If Caitrins bed wasn’t infested, then it is reasonable to deduce that the infestation was only in my bed (shudder.... all over my bed...all over my body.  Don’t think about it)

I would still recommend the hotel... just don’t say in room 40.  We saw the mattresses outside and the bedframes on their side in the rooms... so it seems that they were giving it a good spay.... it wont kill them all though.  That mattress needs to be thrown away, and they need professional grade extermination.  I cannot wrong the hotel for this though, seriously, it can happen in any hotel in Canada too.

We are smarter now.  Nothing but the sleepsheets touch the bed.  And pj’s are kept separately.  Bags and all possessions stay away from walls and furniture.  Clothes stay in the bag.  And Caitrin performs bedbug checks throughout the first night. (I suppose I will take on that responsibility as well)

Only time will tell if I am carrying them now.  I suppose I will deal with it as it arises.  I will cross that bridge when I get there (as my parents urge me to remember).  For now I am that chick walking around Kuta with a body of bites and a blotchy sunburn.

the art of walking

You would think that something as simple as walking would be easy no matter where in the world you are... right?  Ok, maybe my ethnocentrism made it completely impossible for me to even have the slightest idea of what I was getting myself into.... but, I digress.  Walking.

Some of the streets in Kuta are the width of a car.  One car.  That’s it.  Most notably, Poppies Lane 1, the street that I happen to be staying on (and as a result walking on the most) is one such as that.  This one lane road is used for both directions of traffic (as all of them seem to be.. even when they are not supposed to be).  So, you get the pleasure of watching the spectacle of two cars meeting each other... I suppose it’s an exercise in dominance, the weaker vehicle being the one who gets to back up and find a place to pull off (sometimes they even have to fold in the side mirrors in).  This seems confusing enough, but wait... there is more.

Motor bikes and scooters EVERYWHERE!!  They seem to think that they are half vehicle and half pedestrian, and no rules whatsoever apply to them.  As a pedestrian you have to constantly be on the watch for these rockets of peril.  They drive on the wrong side, pass wherever they can, never look before going, drive on the sidewalk, fail to stop for anything, and most shocking as all... NO HELMETS.  Really, there will be a family of four, baby in the front... not one helmet.  And if one happens to be wearing a helmet, it’s not done up!

 So... back to me walking.  When a car comes you have to stand up against the wall and pray that your toes don’t get run over!   The motorbikes go by so fast, and they basically touch you as they go by... So, always be aware of what’s going on... and walk single file down the road...  Be prepared to duck into any store you see (then of course you are bombarded by “I give you good price!” “another dress?” “come, come look!”.. but I’ll leave the art of shopping for another time).  If there happens to be a sidewalk, you may think you are safe, but sadly, you are mistaken.  The motorbikes are there too, like they belong or something.

As if constantly being on the lookout for death by motorbike and watching your toes from the impossibly close mini busses and taxis isn’t enough.... while engaging in this dance, you must also watch your feet.  No sidewalk or road is flat.  There are loose stones, holes (that look as if they go down forever), unexpected dips, missing chunks... a sprained ankle waiting to happen!

Oh, and additionally, there are men every few feet asking “transport? transport?” (At first we thought they were saying “passport” ... that was confusing!)  Trust me... you don’t want the transport... they are motorcycle taxis, and you couldn’t pay me enough rupiah to get on one of those!

In sum,  don’t look down too much, or you’ll get hit by a motorbike, don’t look forward too much, or you’ll trip, be aware of when a car comes up behind you, and make sure you shoulder check before changing any direction.  And politely decline the incessant “help” of the Balinese store owners and motorbike taxis.

Driving is a whole other discussion ... lets just say that when you are inside one of these vehicles that seem to be able to function without any discernible rules, the best course of action is to look directly out the side window and avoid watching the front as much as possible!