Ubud, Indonesia

Ubud is the earthy, arty city in Indonesia, or so its said. There are so many shops offering items related to yoga, massages, vegan warungs (restaurants), clothing stores geared to the hip and so on. There are millions of homestays available aside from the hotels that are closer to where the monkey forest is. I was in an older neighborhood and quite enamored before I saw the modern side of the city which is infinitely less interesting. The roosters on my street crow about 4:00 am, the patio is being swept at 6:00 am, and breakfast is served when I get up. Imagine all that new-age stuff and in the midst of it all, there are chickens, stray dogs and lots of litter. Still, I like Ubud.

Ubud Street Scene

Cadang

Every morning people lay out little palm offerings, cadang, like small trays, with some sort of dried plant matter, flower petals, fresh yellow flowers with a strong scent, and a food offering, perhaps a cracker. They are in doorways, on steps, on autos, motor scooters, in the arms of statues...they are everywhere. I've been watching the lady make them in the office-store at my losman and people stop in to buy them day in and day out. New offerings are laid out daily but the old ones don't seem to get picked, giving the town a look of chronic litter. There was a special day for vehicles and people really went all out decorating their rides. It is amazing the shape and form given to that one material, the palm frond. On my last day, I went by a temple full of women working at tables in all stages of making them while the men lined both sides of the street stripping and splitting bamboo, making screens, weaving palm baskets. I was told there will be a special cremation ceremony in September and they are preparing for it. 

Decorated Scooter for Special Day

Across from my patio there is a little space made up to be a studio where the family grandfather paints off and on all day. Being from an art background, I couldn't resist striking up a conversation. I showed him my trip diary drawings and he shared with me a folder of his sketches. He paints stories from the Hindu tradition in intricate detail with many graceful figures and an amazing amount of detail. His grandson who, at ten years old, already speaks several languages served as our interpreter. I learned that the painter had been a headmaster who was well rated and didn't really take up art until he retired. 

Grandfather and Paintings

I've had a few adventures with food in Ubud. I had a tamarind-ginger-lemon drink at the warung up the street. It had sludge in the bottom that had to be stirred regularly and was served with a sugar syrup to sweeten it. Strong, strong but pretty good in an interesting way. I am actually in love with the lemon grass tea from the other street as well as lemon grass ice cream. I saw a man cutting something rolled up with scissors and asked if I could buy some. I got a waxed brown paper cone with some of those slices served with a bean sauce with little red beans in it. It was great. At the market I bought a variety of palm-wrapped or coned items that turned out to be rice and coconut sweets. My painter friend saw me with those and said, "ah, you eat Balinese." I think that is to be taken as approval.

Breakfast at Demank House Homestay

Leaving Ubud, the shuttle took us through the same carving area I saw the night I flew in. Yes, lots of statues and carvings, my eyes did not deceive me. I notice that many of  them are cast of ferro cement, or something similar. I don't know if that's cheating or not.

Ubud, Bali

Our plane touched down in Densapar, Bali without a hitch, customs was a breeze, and my driver was waiting with a sea of others holding signs with names. 

The ride to Ubud was a pretty wild ride, also an interesting one. First of all, one must get used to the way people drive here. Who am I to say the steering wheel is on the wrong side, yet it is. One would assume that lanes are reversed. They are, but nobody pays attention. Traffic here is like an intricate weaving at full speed. Minivans, motorbikes, bicycles with or without big cargo loads, and pedestrians are vying for a space, any space, and , boy, do they cut it close! The drivers beep a lot, more to announce intent, almost never out of anger. I am fast developing nerves of steel.

Once out of the city, we drove through streets lined with sculptures. My driver explained that Bali specializes in carving, and they do, in stone, wood, coconuts, horn and skulls. If it can be done, they do it and in the most intricate detail. At one point we passed a pickup truck with a huge frog tied to the top of it and something with wings in the back. It was a kite, I'm told, and flying them is big in Bali. Sometimes there are competitions. If only I had my camera!

Its all about religion here, mostly Hindu. Almost every home has some sort of temple in it, the size having to do with means. Why, I ask. The answer is obvious: to make it easier to worship. Walking down any street in Ubud is an adventure because backyards are not just lawns, but temples, colorful, thatched, red tiled  and adorned to the hilt. This is where the market for all those carvings come in. Statues are everywhere.

One of those statues.

This is the entry to the private temple next door to my homestay.

Qatar From the Outside

I took Qatar Airways to Denoasar, Indonesia and what luxury it was! Even in economy the seats were comfortable with lots of leg room, a TV screen on the back of each seat, and a courtesy package containing a toothbrush, sleep mask, earplugs, even a pair of socks. The hostesses all have their hair in neat little buns at their necks and wear boat shaped burgundy hats that remind me of the world war II era. They were all young with fine features and ready smiles. The food and drink were gratis. I had lamb for my evening meal and a tofu scramble for breakfast. On a later flight, I was so close to the engine I could barely hear so I nodded when I was offered my breakfast and got a Nutella and almond crepe with a sweet custard sauce...yummy!

Never have I seen so many shades of brown skin and such a variety of traditional dress as was in the Doha airport. There were women in intricately patterned saris and shawls wrapped around head and shoulders, a few in black robes and burkas with slits, men in crocheted hats, and the Saudi dress of white robes and turbans. What a feast of cultures!  I noticed that the women in saris pulled their shawls over their heads, becoming colorful sleeping lumps. I spoke briefly to people from a couple of African nations, Saudi Arabia, the Philippines, Sri Lanka to name a few.

I read that the layover time in the Doha airport is a minimum of eight hours which gives plenty of time to shop, a smart economic move, I say. There was a big-time mall atmosphere in the airport and perfumes were big. For those who wanted to take care of devotional matters while waiting, there was a mosque I didn't attempt to enter. There was a foot washing station and a prayer room attached to each women's restroom, separate and more private, of course. In the Muslim culture, men and women pray separately. Signs in the airport are in English and what I think is Hindi. It is a form of calligraphy so graceful, almost lyrical to me as I imagine it almost singing.

The inside of the airport was all I saw of Qatar