Our final full day in Sayan, we decided to take advantage of the plunge pool. We were paying for it after all. We discovered it had more uses than just jumping into it naked, after dinner. So we spent the day in or around our plunge pool, ordering room service and finishing the books we had brought. It was delightful, especially when we saw the giant lizard.
I was in the pool, holding onto the side while I scanned the jungle on the other side of the river below, when suddenly a lizard the size of my dog Ranger, popped up into my vision about twenty feet in front of me. He was crossing our property on his way to lunch apparently. He looked as surprised to see me as I did seeing him. I whispered to Russell urgently, "Russell!, Russell!, Come here but don't make a sound." "Huh, What!" he said splashing obstreperously over to me. That's all it took to frighten the humungous six foot lizard away. He lumbered into the jungle right beneath our plunge pool and down the slope towards the river.
Russell said in stunned awe, "I think that was a "Kimono Dragon". After admonishing him for making such a racket and scaring the dragon away, although truth be told I was kind of relieved, I said, "Um, honey, I'm pretty sure it's not a Kimono Dragon. I think it's a Komodo Dragon, or something like that. I wonder if they eat people."
We immediately retreated to our laptop and Googled: Do Kimono Dragons eat people? Apparently Kimono Dragons don't, (because there is no such thing. I'm right. Again) but Komodo Dragons have been known, on occasion, to attack people, but it's very rare. There are about 4,500 Komodo Dragons in the world and over 90% live in Indonesia. Interesting. Hey we're in Indonesia.
Turns out there's a large national park on Bali that not only has Komodo Dragons but Jaguar's too, And I'm not talking about the kind with four wheels. How cool is that?! Russell looked concerned for a minute, like I might make him go there or something.
For dinner that night we returned to the resort restaurant and shared the Balinese Rijsttafel, which is like an Indonesian smorgasbord, consisting of several savory plates. They'd been pushing this ever since we arrived. Thank goodness we shared; it was enough for an entire Balinese household, but delicious.
I reminded Russell that we had actually had this before on our trip to Amsterdam. Apparently there is a large Indonesian population there. But all he could remember about our Amsterdam trip was the pancakes, the statuesque blonds, the river and the coffee shop. Yes, as in where you can buy pot legally. He wouldn't go in.
Pretty Balinese girls serving the plethora of Rijsttafel dishes.
The restaurant.
The sated diner.
The Jungle. Looks like a scene out of LOST.
The next morning we had arranged for a trek with the activities desk. We thought it would be a fitting last hurrah before moving to the beach side property at Jimbaron Bay.
As usual, I found myself waiting for Russell that morning. So I walked up the spiral staircase to the rooftop lily pond to amuse myself with the frogs and fish. When I leaned over the side to peer into the lily pond I discovered the queerest thing. It was a frog hanging upside down. It took me a minute to realize what it was. "Why is that frog hanging upside down?" I wondered. "Its it dead?" And then it moved, and then I realized it's not merely hanging up side down, it's hanging by one leg, from the mouth of a snake, a colorful snake. "Colorful", in snake talk, generally means "poisonous." "Holy shit! That's a snake!!!"
The snake was dragging the frog into its hole which was midway up the side of the concrete encasement of the pond, also known as our roof. How nice. Apparently we weren't the only tenants here. Russell showed up just in time to see the last tug of the frog, into the lair, to be swallowed whole. "It really is a jungle out here." I quipped.
A little shaken, but exhilerated, (I love seeing nature - circle of life - and all that), we clambered up the hill to the spa to meet our Trek guide. She was a Balinese woman who spoke perfect English, had perfect teeth, and lived in the adjacent village.
First she handed us a cool, scented towel and asked us if we wanted any water. I was bemused and doubtful. I didn't really think this was going to be a serious hike so I found it amusing she was already offering us water. I politely declined.
She lead us through the resort property to a side we hadn't ventured to before, past the kitchen gardens and educational rice paddy. We stopped for a second to learn how they grow and harvest rice. Interesting.
Garden.
Educational rice paddy
A closer look at the baby rice growth.
It ends up looking like tall stalks of wheat when it's ready for harvest.
Then she lead us past two villas that looked out onto a rice paddy field, flanked by jungle, and explained how these were the two villas Julia Roberts and her family, as well as, her co-star Javier Bardem, had stayed in while filming Eat/Pray/Love. "Really!" Now that is interesting! Apparently Julia had an entire entourage of staff including three nannies, but she was very nice.
We stopped for a minute to take in Julia's view. Not bad, expansive, private, lush.
Julia's view.
Julia's neighbor.
Then we traipsed across the rice fields, avoiding the water by traversing a narrow strip of dirt, climbed up a steep incline and started lumbering through the jungle. The grass was tall, flanked by palm trees and vines that threatened to strangle us. We followed a barely legible footpath. "Um, is this safe?" I wondered as my bare flesh parted the grass. I can only imagine what bugs would be attaching themselves to my calves.
Into the jungle.
But then I became distracted by the variety of plants and flowers.
Pretty.
Look, twins!
I wonder if these will grow in Tokyo?
Along the way our guide pointed out some of the plants and explained which ones were edible and which ones had medicinal uses. "Which ones can you smoke," I wondered. She explained how the jungle had everything they needed to survive. I bet it does. I've seen the lizards.
Soon we emerged from the jungle into a field where an old Balinese man was working. He was wearing a sarong. "How authentic." I thought. It turns out he was related to her husband in some way. It turns out everyone is, we soon discovered.
Skirting the field were a couple of open air buildings where he keeps his farm animals and pet dog.
What are you lookin at?
Is it time for my milking?
She took us across the fields and explained the various crops growing there, mostly rice.
Crops between the jungle.
I was sweating profusely by this time so when she handed us another cool, scented towel and water, I accepted both gratefully.
She led us up a steep embankment fraught with mud and twisting roots. At one point we literally had to hang onto roots to lower ourselves down the other side. I thought, Ok, maybe this actually is a trek, as sweat dripped in a torrent down my back.
But the view from the top was spectacular.
Nice view.
I'm queen of the world, or at least the jungle.
Then she took us to the village's sacred watering hole. Apparently this is where the villagers go when there's a full moon, and to cool off, and to give thanks, and to deposit their trash. Trash?! I couldn't believe how much trash there was. I deliberately tried to take pictures where there was the least amount of trash. But it was hard to do because there was trash everywhere! Snickers wrappers and discarded chip bags littered the area around the pool and the alleged shrine. Abandoned water bottles congested the pool itself and collected mud and moss at the bottom. Yuck!
Sacred man made waterfalls.
Sacred pool.
I couldn't believe how much crap was in their "scared pool", more like "sacred trash dump." Our guide was so nice and very informative. I wanted to ask her about the trash but seeing how this was her village, I didn't want to offend her. I very gingerly mentioned how surprised I was that people would litter at this sacred place.
She very nonchalantly dismissed the trash with wave of her hand, "Oh, we burn it." She said, very matter-of -factly, not giving it a second thought. When? Once in a blue moon I thought, miserably.
Then she went on to explain how before there was plastic or plates, the jungle provided everything they needed to survive. She tore off a banana leaf from a nearby tree and showed us how it would become their plate and their spoon. Once the meal was over, they would just throw the used banana leaf on the ground. Ok, that makes sense, a banana leaf is biodegradable. Unfortunately plastic is not. Apparently they hadn't clued into this yet.
Apparently this is a shrine, not a trash compactor
as it could have been easily mistaken for, given all the rubbish.
After the trash heap she lead us across a precarious bridge made of bamboo logs, pointing out the Balinese irrigation system that allows them to farm rice all over the island.
Um, is this safe.
Are those waters pirana infested?
It looks benign enough.
But I still don't want to swim in it.
And then we scurried up one last sun kissed embankment before entering into the traditional Balinese village.
The last hill, thank God.
More shines, and grumpy dogs greeted us, as we made our way down the trash riddled streets towards the Balinese village.
Welcome to the neighborhood.
Gates of the community shrine.
Just one of several grumpy dogs we encountered.
At least it has all its legs.
At least these dogs seemed to have homes I thought. I had counted at least twenty five depraved looking dogs on the hour and half drive to the resort the first day we arrived. Still, I ruminated, It wasn't as bad as Thailand where all the dogs seemed to be missing appendages. I meekly inquired about the stray dog problem. To which she guilelessly replied, "Oh, there's a lot less dogs since they came around and shot all the strays last month." Gulp. I did not just hear that, did I? I stole a tormented look at Russell, who gave me the, "why did you even ask," look.
Just then a toothless Balinese man passed by on a motor scooter and waved. Turns out, she knew him, another cousin.
And then we arrived at the traditional Balinese compound she was to give us a tour of. Truth be told I felt a little uncomfortable walking through someone's home. It wasn't like this was a mock compound, designed for educational purposes. This was her sister-in-laws. I felt like we were intruding. Although, it was interesting.
It reminded me a little of the traditional Spanish Hacienda of olden times. I'd seen them on field trips in my youth. Los Angeles used to be a giant Mexican ranch before we killed everybody in the Mexican/American war. Like Mexico or Spain, the entire Balinese family lives within the courtyard walls. The Balinese compound is based on the human body. All compounds include the same basic structures, and layout, which represent parts of body.
In fact, the basis of the measurements of the compound are actually taken from the male head of the household. Large man - large compound. Small man - small compound. My advice - marry big. There's the Lawang (entry gate), Paon (kitchen), the Bale Daja (head of the household quarters), Bale Duah (guest house), and the Bale Dangin (ceremonial patio) and of course multiple shrines. The Bale Dangin was the most interesting to me. A Bale is a covered, raised patio, they are everywhere in Bali. The Bale Dangin is a covered patio in the center of the compound, where all major family events occur. And I'm not talking BBQs and cocktails. Getting married? You do it in the Bale Dangin. Having a baby, you do it in front of the family on the patio. Dying? You do it on the patio.
In Bali, unless your new husband can afford his own compound, the wife always has to go live with his in-laws. Good thing I don't live in Bali.
Lawang - entry gate.
The compound.
Bale Dangin.
All purpose patio: weddings, birthings, BBQs.
Russell and I used to live in a compound. When we moved back to LA from Virginia, Russell leased a small spanish bungalow right off Sunset. Until I arrived all I had seen were polaroid pictures Russell had taken. He made it sound so romantic, right off Sunset, across from the Chateau Marmont. Our friends Karin and Tom showed up the day I arrived from the airport with a bottle of champagne to welcome us back. I cried when I saw the place for real. Compared to our 4,200 square foot, brand new Toll Bros home on a quarter of an acre, this place was a dump. They had to go out and buy another bottle.
But I digress, after the compound she swung us by a gift shop and an art gallery of one of her friends, probably another cousin. Even here, in this authentic place, there's still a little shopping coercion, kind of like a museum gift shop. You want a keepsake? Buy a poster.
Yet another shrine, although this would make a great poster.
And then our tour was over and she lead us through a secret gate that opened up right onto the resort property. We realized we had made a big loop around the resort.
Secret door back to civilization and cocktails.
She left us at the lily pond at the top of the resort with another bottle of water, a cool towel and an indelible impression of the true Bali.
Ugh this t-shirt, that I bought in Thailand, makes me look dumpy.
But I did just trek through the jungle.
