Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Bangkok, The king turns 83 - Happy Birthday!
“Take the shuttle train to town and then transfer to a taxi, it’s elevated, you’ll see some of the city and save a lot” recommended the local Thai man next to me on the plane. He told me stories of his hometown, why he would never visit the US; too far, homeland security (now how does he know of this?), visas and other hassles, so he went to Bali to show some culture and spirit to his nephew and niece. “There is much similar in the Buddhism and the Hinduism of Bali”, he said.
The train ride was smooth, clean and fast; at least as good as the Paris Metro, and apart from Hong Kong I think it’s one of the best. We descend from the elevated platform to street level, where taxis galore stop by, I show them the address of where we need to go, they look at it, contemplate a moment, then return me the paper and say no, shifting into first and drive away. At first I thought they are not sure where the place is they seemed to be thinking when looking at the address. It was written both in English and Thai, so should be easy to understand, but when a couple said “traffic, many traffic, king birthday today”, I remembered that December 5th is the kings birthday and we were going in the direction where the chaos was happening. A tuk-tuk stopped by us; it’s a three-wheeled open sides taxi. I figured if he’ll take us we’d go. We lounge into the low seats spread our legs forward on this super fast open rickshaw. The driver is young and cool, speaks better English than most of the taxi drivers we met. He tries to make some small talk, and makes sure we know to go to the party near the hotel. The woman behind the reception desk is wearing a dark navy suite with a white-collar shirt, wearing huge pink fluffy slippers with a Mickey Mouse face sculpted over the toes.
We dropped our stuff and headed out to join the celebration of the Kings Birthday. A few steps away I begin to see some food stalls and remember why I like Thailand. Big noodle soups, soups with an array veggies and meats, families sitting on plastic stools gathered around a round table with a big bowl of greens in the center. Some stalls were of the ‘make your own soup’ type, with a hot pot in the center, and the guests putting in it their choice of meat and vegetable. A seven eleven follows on the left, the first floor of a 5-6-story building, as the street opens up to a huge intersection. Grand I shall say. The whole area is lit up, never seen anything like this, all white lights pouring all over the boulevards. The huge intersection we stood at had enormous posters of the king. Billboards let’s say. We stood to take it in, took some photos that could not portray the magnitude of the scenery and the power of the quantity. And then came the silence. The grand boulevard was empty, every one was gathered on the sides, the king is coming, no photos please. We keep walking a bit towards a mini park to the side of the boulevard with tons of food stalls and lots of light displays. A light sculptures of hearts, increasing in size coming one out of the other, a big white boat with blue light colored waves, a small band playing in front of a huge light circle encompassing a photo of the king playing a mouth instrument (was it the sax?). A woman is arranging quail eggs on a large round cast iron plate with templates scooped out perfectly for the eggs. I watch her work with great attention. She is so precise, probably has put eggs in the little bowl shaped spaces a million times or more. I order my plate, maybe 8 little eggs scooped in it, pepper and some yummy spicy sauce. By the time I lift my head to check the boulevard, everyone is back on the street, the king has passed already. Well, this is the honest truth, I prefer the small workingman, and if there is food involved, I forget all royalty.
The rest of the walk through the millions of people (probably not much of an exaggeration) consisted of mostly checking out more food stalls and some people watching. The Thai have lots of style, fun style. They were mostly casual, of the NY, London, urban style hip, but not all big brands, colorful, accessories, and fun shoes, though most were surely walked in to the point of wearing out. Many were wearing pink, which I assumed had to do with the King’s Birthday.
I tried a soup that had rice noodles and lots of wild mushrooms, some sort of seaweed, and supposedly chicken, though I was happy I saw almost only mushrooms, black, oyster and some other unknown. I ordered Lauren the Pad Thai, rice noodles with veggies and peanuts.
Every intersection had a huge concrete structure with the top part a large circle containing a photo of the king from different periods of his life, framed with a ton of little shining lights. We reached the memorial intersection, and the fireworks that were only audio before, turned on their visual and filled the sky with beautiful colors, and fire rain of lights. The variety and quantity were at least as amazing as 4th of July in NY, and that is to say I was impressed. It went on for a long time. Everyone taking photos, from phone cameras, to smart phones, little digital cameras and an impressive amount of bigger SLR cameras, including tripods big flashes and all it takes to look like a professional. Except for the baseball cap.
We crossed the big circle walking through cars and scooters, busses and streams of people; there was an orderly chaos. It was an amazing feeling, more cars, bikes, tuk tuks and people together than I have ever seen, and yet it all flowed, slowly but calmly, there was patience and acceptance that this is it. The food stalls were infused with lots of kitschy stalls or just people selling stuff on the ground on a piece of cloth; wallets, belts, clothes, Zippo lighters, hair bands with two heart horns lit up in pink, other night party light items, candles, underwear, and the sugar candy, a girl waking by with super short pants, skewers of chicken beef and pork, fathers taking photos of their children in front of the altar for the king placed in front of the Mercedes dealership, skewers of squid, Thai sweets made on the spot, sweet corm mixed with condensed milk, teenage boys with hard worked hairstyles, and skateboarders’ shoes, a young couple passing by, her with an elegant dress, not flashy and some heals, him with a cool jeans and funky sneakers, a printed T, and a designer watch of an unknown brand, flip flops everywhere, some sandals, some cool sneakers, fruit cases of water melon, cantaloupe, green mango, and pineapple and again fireworks. As we make our way back, there is a whole second set of fire display lighting up the sky. Where does the darkness go when the light arrives?
The train ride was smooth, clean and fast; at least as good as the Paris Metro, and apart from Hong Kong I think it’s one of the best. We descend from the elevated platform to street level, where taxis galore stop by, I show them the address of where we need to go, they look at it, contemplate a moment, then return me the paper and say no, shifting into first and drive away. At first I thought they are not sure where the place is they seemed to be thinking when looking at the address. It was written both in English and Thai, so should be easy to understand, but when a couple said “traffic, many traffic, king birthday today”, I remembered that December 5th is the kings birthday and we were going in the direction where the chaos was happening. A tuk-tuk stopped by us; it’s a three-wheeled open sides taxi. I figured if he’ll take us we’d go. We lounge into the low seats spread our legs forward on this super fast open rickshaw. The driver is young and cool, speaks better English than most of the taxi drivers we met. He tries to make some small talk, and makes sure we know to go to the party near the hotel. The woman behind the reception desk is wearing a dark navy suite with a white-collar shirt, wearing huge pink fluffy slippers with a Mickey Mouse face sculpted over the toes.
We dropped our stuff and headed out to join the celebration of the Kings Birthday. A few steps away I begin to see some food stalls and remember why I like Thailand. Big noodle soups, soups with an array veggies and meats, families sitting on plastic stools gathered around a round table with a big bowl of greens in the center. Some stalls were of the ‘make your own soup’ type, with a hot pot in the center, and the guests putting in it their choice of meat and vegetable. A seven eleven follows on the left, the first floor of a 5-6-story building, as the street opens up to a huge intersection. Grand I shall say. The whole area is lit up, never seen anything like this, all white lights pouring all over the boulevards. The huge intersection we stood at had enormous posters of the king. Billboards let’s say. We stood to take it in, took some photos that could not portray the magnitude of the scenery and the power of the quantity. And then came the silence. The grand boulevard was empty, every one was gathered on the sides, the king is coming, no photos please. We keep walking a bit towards a mini park to the side of the boulevard with tons of food stalls and lots of light displays. A light sculptures of hearts, increasing in size coming one out of the other, a big white boat with blue light colored waves, a small band playing in front of a huge light circle encompassing a photo of the king playing a mouth instrument (was it the sax?). A woman is arranging quail eggs on a large round cast iron plate with templates scooped out perfectly for the eggs. I watch her work with great attention. She is so precise, probably has put eggs in the little bowl shaped spaces a million times or more. I order my plate, maybe 8 little eggs scooped in it, pepper and some yummy spicy sauce. By the time I lift my head to check the boulevard, everyone is back on the street, the king has passed already. Well, this is the honest truth, I prefer the small workingman, and if there is food involved, I forget all royalty.
The rest of the walk through the millions of people (probably not much of an exaggeration) consisted of mostly checking out more food stalls and some people watching. The Thai have lots of style, fun style. They were mostly casual, of the NY, London, urban style hip, but not all big brands, colorful, accessories, and fun shoes, though most were surely walked in to the point of wearing out. Many were wearing pink, which I assumed had to do with the King’s Birthday.
I tried a soup that had rice noodles and lots of wild mushrooms, some sort of seaweed, and supposedly chicken, though I was happy I saw almost only mushrooms, black, oyster and some other unknown. I ordered Lauren the Pad Thai, rice noodles with veggies and peanuts.
Every intersection had a huge concrete structure with the top part a large circle containing a photo of the king from different periods of his life, framed with a ton of little shining lights. We reached the memorial intersection, and the fireworks that were only audio before, turned on their visual and filled the sky with beautiful colors, and fire rain of lights. The variety and quantity were at least as amazing as 4th of July in NY, and that is to say I was impressed. It went on for a long time. Everyone taking photos, from phone cameras, to smart phones, little digital cameras and an impressive amount of bigger SLR cameras, including tripods big flashes and all it takes to look like a professional. Except for the baseball cap.
We crossed the big circle walking through cars and scooters, busses and streams of people; there was an orderly chaos. It was an amazing feeling, more cars, bikes, tuk tuks and people together than I have ever seen, and yet it all flowed, slowly but calmly, there was patience and acceptance that this is it. The food stalls were infused with lots of kitschy stalls or just people selling stuff on the ground on a piece of cloth; wallets, belts, clothes, Zippo lighters, hair bands with two heart horns lit up in pink, other night party light items, candles, underwear, and the sugar candy, a girl waking by with super short pants, skewers of chicken beef and pork, fathers taking photos of their children in front of the altar for the king placed in front of the Mercedes dealership, skewers of squid, Thai sweets made on the spot, sweet corm mixed with condensed milk, teenage boys with hard worked hairstyles, and skateboarders’ shoes, a young couple passing by, her with an elegant dress, not flashy and some heals, him with a cool jeans and funky sneakers, a printed T, and a designer watch of an unknown brand, flip flops everywhere, some sandals, some cool sneakers, fruit cases of water melon, cantaloupe, green mango, and pineapple and again fireworks. As we make our way back, there is a whole second set of fire display lighting up the sky. Where does the darkness go when the light arrives?
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Gili Trawangan
Wayan 2 (his nick name since every first born in Bali gets the name of Wayan) drives us from the Hyatt to Padang Bai, from a grand resort the size of a village, to a small village the size of a resort. Padang Bai is quaint, a bay with lots of traditional fishing boats, narrow boats carved out of a single tree with long bamboo floaters parallel to the boats to keep the boat from tipping, like arms extending out of the body. The boats are colorful, and people are moving at a slow pace. To one end is the ferry terminal, and beside it are the speedboats ready to take passengers to the Gili Islands and Lombok. Lombok is a big Island to the south east of Bali, it’s Muslim sister, with the Gili’s set as three flat islands dotted with palm trees, one after the other, Gili Air, Gili Manu, and Gili Trawangan, the one we were headed to.
Strolling aimlessly at Padang Bai, buying some purple taro chips, or at least this is what I imagined it to be, as whatever I asked the old, wrinkled smiley woman, her answer was a nod of approve. The only thing she really understood were fingers showing the price, 3 fingers meaning 3 thousand rupees. It’s about 9000 rupee per dollar, so once you start with items that cost more, it can get confusing. How much is this bracelet, 30 cents, 3 dollars or wait, maybe 30? In Israel before it got so confusing the Lira was changed to a Shekel and the Shekel transformed into the New Israeli Shekel, where 3 zeros were taken away. Since then the Shekel has not done so badly, no more new currency is introduced for now.
We went swimming at the Bloo Lagoon beach, beautiful water surrounded by lava cliffs almost forming a lagoon, with some cacti growing all over the cliffs around. Yes, those cacti in a small form that I imagine in Arizona or Israel, but hey, they were there, just at the edge of the lush vegetation.
Back to our room, I opened the munchies bag and consciously ate an Oreo tube of cookies. It’s been years, and now I know why. It did not take long till I was horizontal, and stayed that way till 4am. OK, so it’s not all due to Oreos, I surely was mentally in need of decompression after the tour, but the Oreos were a great catalyst.
Changing US dollars as the only ATM was not working and we were told there is no ATM on the Island, which later we found out that a brand new one was installed. A quick reminder that you get better rates for 100-dollar bills, 20’s don’t get you far.
The boat ride was fun and smooth, meeting two Finish girls backpacking, sharing with them some of our food, learning from them how Chaotic is Kuta, listening to some French two seats ahead, a group of Australian teenagers being all sexy at the back of the boat; every ride, every new place holds a whole new mini cosmos, with humans absolutely sure that this is all that exists. I wonder if the water splashing at the side of the speedboat has any feeling of separate identity from the ocean as it shines in the sun for a moment before it descends back into the great ocean, swallowed by the deep blue.
Approaching Gili, I sit on the top front of the boat, wind blowing my messy hair back, the sun finding my skin between the stubble, giving it a nice roast, as I watch the white sand and turquoise water grow larger. Water is too shallow, so we transfer to a smaller boat that takes us ashore. We step into the warm water, get our luggage and a small attack of locals approach us asking if we want a room. The transportation on the Island is by feet, bicycles or horse carriages.
Gorman and Denise form the yoga tour have decided to join us on this adventure. Gorman and Lauren stay behind with the luggage as Denise and I scout for a room.
We settle in, relax, eat, walk, and drop into beach life. We needed a second day to do some more of nothing, swim in their salt-water pool, snorkeling right in front of our two story cottage, snorkeling, seeing turtles, blow fish, reading and some yoga.
Finally we are ready for a glass bottom boat ride that will take us around the other two Gili Islands and snorkeling, corals, turtles and beautiful quiet beaches. Sweet group, lots of Canadians, 2 super dark skin locals, and me getting darker by the minute.
The following day we rented bicycles and rode all around the Island. Empty beaches spotted with some new upcoming resorts. The nice thing is that all that is being built is not completely on the beach, has mostly a local feel and blends in, but it will sure change the demographics. Gili T, started as a party island, and later families and couples joined in as well, as the parties are contained to a small area and specific days. We are here a bit off-season so there seem to be no big parties anyway.
There are veggie options, but it sure is a heaven for the fish and seafood lover, with lots of fresh grilled fish on the beach, the catch of the day. Dinner to candle light, or some kerosene lamps, there is wifi in some restaurants, some have quiet music, some play Kenny G for the tourists, and my favorite played assortment of Buddha Bar compilations.
We kept seeing the Finish girls, and saw them off to their boat to Kuta as we were heading to snorkel. On the snorkeling boat connected with a Canadian girl that joined our biking day, and on the boat back to Padang Bai, we met two sisters from Holland. Surely some of the travel experience is connecting with other travelers, hearing stories, and learning about their lives. On the chill out day, I spent two hours in the swimming pool walking around the shallow waters, discussing poetry, spirituality, Zen and Kabalah with a French poet.
Wayan 1 met us as we arrived back to Padang Bai. We visited a traditional Balinese village; a village that was kept separate from the outside as to promote the conservation of tradition. We saw hand weaving, egg painting, basket weaving and carvings, delicate and beautiful work with no hassle. We continued on a scenic drive up the mountains, rice fields, local carrying a variety of things on their heads, lots of roosters in cages getting ready for their battle, a flock of humans walking on the street on their way to a burial, a farmer walking his ducks along the side of the road using along pole with red feathers at the end to keep them together, valleys and hills, curves, and lava mines, temples every where, and people giving offerings all the time. Little banana leaves with some rice, incense and flowers, splashing some perfumed water as the place the offerings at every corner. In the temples, as well as their homes, businesses or simple on the street. When walking in Ubud, where we arrived later that night, one has to constantly watch their step as there are just about the same amount of free spots to walk on as there are covered with offerings.
Tomorrow we leave Bali, and if I had to summarize it in just a few words, they would include, smiles, friendliness, offerings, spirit, lush, beautiful beaches, temples, rice fields, snake skin fruit, and fresh juice. Of course there was much more, but to experience the full thing, join me on my next trip, maybe May 2011?
Strolling aimlessly at Padang Bai, buying some purple taro chips, or at least this is what I imagined it to be, as whatever I asked the old, wrinkled smiley woman, her answer was a nod of approve. The only thing she really understood were fingers showing the price, 3 fingers meaning 3 thousand rupees. It’s about 9000 rupee per dollar, so once you start with items that cost more, it can get confusing. How much is this bracelet, 30 cents, 3 dollars or wait, maybe 30? In Israel before it got so confusing the Lira was changed to a Shekel and the Shekel transformed into the New Israeli Shekel, where 3 zeros were taken away. Since then the Shekel has not done so badly, no more new currency is introduced for now.
We went swimming at the Bloo Lagoon beach, beautiful water surrounded by lava cliffs almost forming a lagoon, with some cacti growing all over the cliffs around. Yes, those cacti in a small form that I imagine in Arizona or Israel, but hey, they were there, just at the edge of the lush vegetation.
Back to our room, I opened the munchies bag and consciously ate an Oreo tube of cookies. It’s been years, and now I know why. It did not take long till I was horizontal, and stayed that way till 4am. OK, so it’s not all due to Oreos, I surely was mentally in need of decompression after the tour, but the Oreos were a great catalyst.
Changing US dollars as the only ATM was not working and we were told there is no ATM on the Island, which later we found out that a brand new one was installed. A quick reminder that you get better rates for 100-dollar bills, 20’s don’t get you far.
The boat ride was fun and smooth, meeting two Finish girls backpacking, sharing with them some of our food, learning from them how Chaotic is Kuta, listening to some French two seats ahead, a group of Australian teenagers being all sexy at the back of the boat; every ride, every new place holds a whole new mini cosmos, with humans absolutely sure that this is all that exists. I wonder if the water splashing at the side of the speedboat has any feeling of separate identity from the ocean as it shines in the sun for a moment before it descends back into the great ocean, swallowed by the deep blue.
Approaching Gili, I sit on the top front of the boat, wind blowing my messy hair back, the sun finding my skin between the stubble, giving it a nice roast, as I watch the white sand and turquoise water grow larger. Water is too shallow, so we transfer to a smaller boat that takes us ashore. We step into the warm water, get our luggage and a small attack of locals approach us asking if we want a room. The transportation on the Island is by feet, bicycles or horse carriages.
Gorman and Denise form the yoga tour have decided to join us on this adventure. Gorman and Lauren stay behind with the luggage as Denise and I scout for a room.
We settle in, relax, eat, walk, and drop into beach life. We needed a second day to do some more of nothing, swim in their salt-water pool, snorkeling right in front of our two story cottage, snorkeling, seeing turtles, blow fish, reading and some yoga.
Finally we are ready for a glass bottom boat ride that will take us around the other two Gili Islands and snorkeling, corals, turtles and beautiful quiet beaches. Sweet group, lots of Canadians, 2 super dark skin locals, and me getting darker by the minute.
The following day we rented bicycles and rode all around the Island. Empty beaches spotted with some new upcoming resorts. The nice thing is that all that is being built is not completely on the beach, has mostly a local feel and blends in, but it will sure change the demographics. Gili T, started as a party island, and later families and couples joined in as well, as the parties are contained to a small area and specific days. We are here a bit off-season so there seem to be no big parties anyway.
There are veggie options, but it sure is a heaven for the fish and seafood lover, with lots of fresh grilled fish on the beach, the catch of the day. Dinner to candle light, or some kerosene lamps, there is wifi in some restaurants, some have quiet music, some play Kenny G for the tourists, and my favorite played assortment of Buddha Bar compilations.
We kept seeing the Finish girls, and saw them off to their boat to Kuta as we were heading to snorkel. On the snorkeling boat connected with a Canadian girl that joined our biking day, and on the boat back to Padang Bai, we met two sisters from Holland. Surely some of the travel experience is connecting with other travelers, hearing stories, and learning about their lives. On the chill out day, I spent two hours in the swimming pool walking around the shallow waters, discussing poetry, spirituality, Zen and Kabalah with a French poet.
Wayan 1 met us as we arrived back to Padang Bai. We visited a traditional Balinese village; a village that was kept separate from the outside as to promote the conservation of tradition. We saw hand weaving, egg painting, basket weaving and carvings, delicate and beautiful work with no hassle. We continued on a scenic drive up the mountains, rice fields, local carrying a variety of things on their heads, lots of roosters in cages getting ready for their battle, a flock of humans walking on the street on their way to a burial, a farmer walking his ducks along the side of the road using along pole with red feathers at the end to keep them together, valleys and hills, curves, and lava mines, temples every where, and people giving offerings all the time. Little banana leaves with some rice, incense and flowers, splashing some perfumed water as the place the offerings at every corner. In the temples, as well as their homes, businesses or simple on the street. When walking in Ubud, where we arrived later that night, one has to constantly watch their step as there are just about the same amount of free spots to walk on as there are covered with offerings.
Tomorrow we leave Bali, and if I had to summarize it in just a few words, they would include, smiles, friendliness, offerings, spirit, lush, beautiful beaches, temples, rice fields, snake skin fruit, and fresh juice. Of course there was much more, but to experience the full thing, join me on my next trip, maybe May 2011?
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Bali part 2
A speedboat took us to Menjangan, a national park known for its reef and coral beauty. Warm wind blowing my hair back Fonzy style, san the sleek, crystal blue water and the site of a huge volcano appearing above the clouds in front of us. takes us on this white and blue wooden boat to snorkel off the boat and off from shore. Swimming along the reef, with an amazing array of colors and shapes, both fish and corals, and some stinging mini jellyfish. After lunch on the beach we head back, I sit on the top front end of the boat loving the sun and the wind as the boats speeds ahead. We go towards some fishing boats and slow down a lot, as we see some tuna jumping out of the water, which means dolphins, are here too. I thought that what makes the tuna fatty, yummy and healthy is the fact that in order to survive in the cold water it has higher levels of fatty acids which allow it to keep moving and not freeze. If that is the case, what is it doing here in warm waters, and does it have less omega 3’s because of its ability to swim without it?
Sure enough, dolphins were there, one, two, wait, maybe ten, wow, too many to count! We saw large schools of them, just swimming leisurely as if the Internet was never invented. No worries about real estate or even being on time for yoga, just swimming through life, opening their mouths and swallowing tuna whole. What a day. We were like little kids jumping from one side of the boat to the other, following more dolphins, full of excitement and delight!
A long drive back to Ubud, maybe too long, I am ready to see it. Trying to stay present, I still found myself having an image of what it would be like. A town, not too big, no high rises, lots of shops, a cool market, tons of restaurants, some nice hotels, but none huge and overwhelming. Ubud has its touristic side, yet it has charm. Massages for ten to twenty dollars, “Kafe”, that served amazing lemon ginger tea, or lemongrass, ginger with Indonesian leaves along a raw black current cashew cake, art galleries (or shops), lots of crafts, wood carvings, boutique clothing stores, a yoga store, and lets not forget the monkey forest. We arranged for a temple tour seeing the elephant temple as well as another great temple, beautiful sculptures everywhere.
I entered the Zen massage place, and enjoyed the soft music. I was led through a tunnel, walking of stepping stones set amidst a flow of water, entered my room with hand painted rice fields on the wall, got undressed and lay on the massage table covered with a sheet. The little Balinese woman came in, and moved her hands along my body, first over the sheet, and then with lots of oil, rubbing my body. Next came the spice rub, cinnamon, cloves or other spices were mixed and spread on my skin. She left the room, allowing me to feel abandoned, wanting more hands on as I wait. She returned to spread the dried spice mix a bit further, and then added a freezing cold layer of yogurt on top. I became a whole meal. When she finished one side, I flipped and received the same treatment on the other side. Then she told me to shower. I waited for a second, but she encouraged me to get up. It was funny, it’s almost as if I forgot I was naked. I was showering as she as cleaning the massage table. “You take bath twenty minutes, you drink tea, eat fruit and finish, OK?” Ok I replied. So easy to be obedient to some one demanding me to relax and enjoy.
I bought some Yoga clothes at a cool local shop, spent a few hours there contemplating importing some goods back to the US, even created a whole business plan for it. We ate at Clear Water, which was absolutely awesome. Live bamboo separated the fantastic modern meets local Bali style restaurant, in a way similar but different to the Buddha bar in Paris, amazing detail, great music, wonderful food and reasonable prices. The food was exactly what I love, from a plate of Middle Eastern dips with raw flax seed crackers and some pita crisps, through tofu sachets in yummy peanut sauce, dragon bowl similar to the one in Manhattan, tuna with black pepper along wit a side of wasabi mashed potatoes, and delicious raw chocolate coffee cake or lemon strawberry cake for dessert.
From Ubud we head to Sanur to the Hyatt, hosting a huge complex with lots of pools, a long stretch of beach, and a few restaurants. This was our last stop with the group. I had a wonderful time with them, and felt a great connection. Like all my retreats, the people and my interactions with them, the sharing’s are what make the trip a highlight. We had some bumps relating to the organizing part of the tour, which I was not in charge of. It was hard for me to not be completely in charge, trusting someone else with such a large part of the trip, but a great learning experience, and I am truly grateful for the support, patience and trust of my students.
As I write this from the beach on the Gili Island, I have now created the perfect itinerary for the next one, scouting and figuring out every detail, as Lauren says “ When Doron plans something himself, he has it down to a T.” This phrase does not make sense to me, but I like it. Off to connect to the slow Internet with lots of gratitude, as I still remember sending a handful of letters instead of this easy blog.
Sure enough, dolphins were there, one, two, wait, maybe ten, wow, too many to count! We saw large schools of them, just swimming leisurely as if the Internet was never invented. No worries about real estate or even being on time for yoga, just swimming through life, opening their mouths and swallowing tuna whole. What a day. We were like little kids jumping from one side of the boat to the other, following more dolphins, full of excitement and delight!
A long drive back to Ubud, maybe too long, I am ready to see it. Trying to stay present, I still found myself having an image of what it would be like. A town, not too big, no high rises, lots of shops, a cool market, tons of restaurants, some nice hotels, but none huge and overwhelming. Ubud has its touristic side, yet it has charm. Massages for ten to twenty dollars, “Kafe”, that served amazing lemon ginger tea, or lemongrass, ginger with Indonesian leaves along a raw black current cashew cake, art galleries (or shops), lots of crafts, wood carvings, boutique clothing stores, a yoga store, and lets not forget the monkey forest. We arranged for a temple tour seeing the elephant temple as well as another great temple, beautiful sculptures everywhere.
I entered the Zen massage place, and enjoyed the soft music. I was led through a tunnel, walking of stepping stones set amidst a flow of water, entered my room with hand painted rice fields on the wall, got undressed and lay on the massage table covered with a sheet. The little Balinese woman came in, and moved her hands along my body, first over the sheet, and then with lots of oil, rubbing my body. Next came the spice rub, cinnamon, cloves or other spices were mixed and spread on my skin. She left the room, allowing me to feel abandoned, wanting more hands on as I wait. She returned to spread the dried spice mix a bit further, and then added a freezing cold layer of yogurt on top. I became a whole meal. When she finished one side, I flipped and received the same treatment on the other side. Then she told me to shower. I waited for a second, but she encouraged me to get up. It was funny, it’s almost as if I forgot I was naked. I was showering as she as cleaning the massage table. “You take bath twenty minutes, you drink tea, eat fruit and finish, OK?” Ok I replied. So easy to be obedient to some one demanding me to relax and enjoy.
I bought some Yoga clothes at a cool local shop, spent a few hours there contemplating importing some goods back to the US, even created a whole business plan for it. We ate at Clear Water, which was absolutely awesome. Live bamboo separated the fantastic modern meets local Bali style restaurant, in a way similar but different to the Buddha bar in Paris, amazing detail, great music, wonderful food and reasonable prices. The food was exactly what I love, from a plate of Middle Eastern dips with raw flax seed crackers and some pita crisps, through tofu sachets in yummy peanut sauce, dragon bowl similar to the one in Manhattan, tuna with black pepper along wit a side of wasabi mashed potatoes, and delicious raw chocolate coffee cake or lemon strawberry cake for dessert.
From Ubud we head to Sanur to the Hyatt, hosting a huge complex with lots of pools, a long stretch of beach, and a few restaurants. This was our last stop with the group. I had a wonderful time with them, and felt a great connection. Like all my retreats, the people and my interactions with them, the sharing’s are what make the trip a highlight. We had some bumps relating to the organizing part of the tour, which I was not in charge of. It was hard for me to not be completely in charge, trusting someone else with such a large part of the trip, but a great learning experience, and I am truly grateful for the support, patience and trust of my students.
As I write this from the beach on the Gili Island, I have now created the perfect itinerary for the next one, scouting and figuring out every detail, as Lauren says “ When Doron plans something himself, he has it down to a T.” This phrase does not make sense to me, but I like it. Off to connect to the slow Internet with lots of gratitude, as I still remember sending a handful of letters instead of this easy blog.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Field Trip to Bali
The cool kids sat at the end of the bus. That’s how it was when we would go on field trips in high school. It was complete chaos, but there was excitement in the air.
This trip, everyone is far beyond high school, and it seems as if everyone is equally cool. There are eighteen of us, including an American trip organizer, a Balinese guide, a driver, and the rest of the yoga practitioners.
The airport was the first delight with great sculptures everywhere, many depicting Hindu Gods. A brand new Suzuki van with no seat belts takes us up the mountains as we head towards Munduk,, as the sun was setting over the two lakes.
Marigold necklaces are draped over our necks, as greeting smiles flower around. Water fountains, lotus ponds, and lush vegetation with beautiful flowers are abundant. The cottage is set up on stilts with a dark wooden balcony, over looking the little pond below hosting calm fish unaware of the expansive rice field’s just meters behind them.
Dinner consisted of a vegetarian sampling. Skewers of tofu in a Balinese sauce, tempeh in something like a BBQ sauce, cabbage in peanut sauce, a sort of latke, and Chrysanthemum tea. Every meal is shared with some other friends from the group, exploring diversity of life experiences, listening to stories, and enjoying others on chill mode. The rice terraces on the hills across from us have heard it all by now.
The next day we explored the property, walking through little temples, rice fields, spice plants, ponds, statues everywhere, and magnificent views of the mountains and villages around. What really makes it wonderful are the details, the smile of a passer-by, the gold fish in the pond, the bamboo mini bridge, the beautiful red flowers draping off huge semi translucent bright green leaves, the sounds of water flowing through streams and in and out of ponds.
We adventured off property and let destiny take our feet through the jungle, passing homes with bird cages holding quiet pretty blue birds, vanilla beans for sale off of someone’s front yard, coffee beans laid down to dry, wandering dogs, and mopeds everywhere. Everyone from young to old is on a moped. All Japanese made.
We took a trip to a coffee and spice plantation and sampled some fox shit coffee. It’s not really a fox, but looks similar. The fox goes out at night, searching for the best coffee beans, it is a very picky animal. It eats the coffee bean, digesting only the skin, and then poops out the bean. Since the fox is so picky this is considered the best bean one can find. We had to try it once, as Wayan our guide told us, “Try it once and that’s it, you don’t want to drink shit twice!” This coffee is sold for $500 in Japan.
After morning yoga and breakfast we head to the beach. We arrive in Pemuteran, at the magnificent resort of Taman Sari Bali Cottages, and really, I would call it no name except the experience of bliss.
What can I say? Heaven is here. I would stay here for a month without blinking. Beautiful grass dotted with flowers, sculptures and Japanese like lanterns. Our room has an amazing outdoor shower surrounded by pebbles, with a huge marble floored porch, a step from the little pond that flows as a stream between the rooms, gold fish, a sculpture fountain, and perfectly organized vegetation surround it. Large Indonesian wood furniture with blue cushions decorated with butterflies sewn on it. The awning is made of perfectly tight tied palm leaves. I’ll stop here as I feel like nothing would portray the amazingness of this place. I tried to take photos but even they do not do justice. The swimming pool by the ocean is wonderful and warm. Everywhere you look there are sculptures or statues, amazing vegetation and water streams.
Off to teach the afternoon session, a Dharma talk, presenting my path, the relationship of Yoga and Zen – Zoga! Stay tuned more coming soon…
Love, D
This trip, everyone is far beyond high school, and it seems as if everyone is equally cool. There are eighteen of us, including an American trip organizer, a Balinese guide, a driver, and the rest of the yoga practitioners.
The airport was the first delight with great sculptures everywhere, many depicting Hindu Gods. A brand new Suzuki van with no seat belts takes us up the mountains as we head towards Munduk,, as the sun was setting over the two lakes.
Marigold necklaces are draped over our necks, as greeting smiles flower around. Water fountains, lotus ponds, and lush vegetation with beautiful flowers are abundant. The cottage is set up on stilts with a dark wooden balcony, over looking the little pond below hosting calm fish unaware of the expansive rice field’s just meters behind them.
Dinner consisted of a vegetarian sampling. Skewers of tofu in a Balinese sauce, tempeh in something like a BBQ sauce, cabbage in peanut sauce, a sort of latke, and Chrysanthemum tea. Every meal is shared with some other friends from the group, exploring diversity of life experiences, listening to stories, and enjoying others on chill mode. The rice terraces on the hills across from us have heard it all by now.
The next day we explored the property, walking through little temples, rice fields, spice plants, ponds, statues everywhere, and magnificent views of the mountains and villages around. What really makes it wonderful are the details, the smile of a passer-by, the gold fish in the pond, the bamboo mini bridge, the beautiful red flowers draping off huge semi translucent bright green leaves, the sounds of water flowing through streams and in and out of ponds.
We adventured off property and let destiny take our feet through the jungle, passing homes with bird cages holding quiet pretty blue birds, vanilla beans for sale off of someone’s front yard, coffee beans laid down to dry, wandering dogs, and mopeds everywhere. Everyone from young to old is on a moped. All Japanese made.
We took a trip to a coffee and spice plantation and sampled some fox shit coffee. It’s not really a fox, but looks similar. The fox goes out at night, searching for the best coffee beans, it is a very picky animal. It eats the coffee bean, digesting only the skin, and then poops out the bean. Since the fox is so picky this is considered the best bean one can find. We had to try it once, as Wayan our guide told us, “Try it once and that’s it, you don’t want to drink shit twice!” This coffee is sold for $500 in Japan.
After morning yoga and breakfast we head to the beach. We arrive in Pemuteran, at the magnificent resort of Taman Sari Bali Cottages, and really, I would call it no name except the experience of bliss.
What can I say? Heaven is here. I would stay here for a month without blinking. Beautiful grass dotted with flowers, sculptures and Japanese like lanterns. Our room has an amazing outdoor shower surrounded by pebbles, with a huge marble floored porch, a step from the little pond that flows as a stream between the rooms, gold fish, a sculpture fountain, and perfectly organized vegetation surround it. Large Indonesian wood furniture with blue cushions decorated with butterflies sewn on it. The awning is made of perfectly tight tied palm leaves. I’ll stop here as I feel like nothing would portray the amazingness of this place. I tried to take photos but even they do not do justice. The swimming pool by the ocean is wonderful and warm. Everywhere you look there are sculptures or statues, amazing vegetation and water streams.
Off to teach the afternoon session, a Dharma talk, presenting my path, the relationship of Yoga and Zen – Zoga! Stay tuned more coming soon…
Love, D
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