June 20, 2016

June 20, 2016

Today I rode a motorbike for the first time. And then fell. Kirra has been giving me shit for the last few days because I keep saying that I'm going to rent a motorbike here despite never having drove one in my life. How hard can it be? Everybody drives them here. Sure, the roads are busy, traffic rules don't apply, and they drive on the opposite side of the road, but I'm smart and can catch on. Nope. I didn't even make it to a road with two-way traffic before I fell off of it. The locals were so nice about it and I was so embarrassed. I was going around this turn down an alley and there was a lot of sand and that's when it happened, the entire weight of the motorbike fell to the right and silly me tried to catch it with my body to keep it up.

Kirra is nearly crying of laughter. She didn't see it happen because she was further ahead but what a sight I was. Sitting down on a crappy log in an alley because my goddamn ankle hurts too bad to even stand. I have to admit, despite the pain throbbing in my ankle, it was actually pretty funny. Here I am, some cocky American who thinks she can just hop on a machine and know how to operate it without any type of guidance. But that's who I am and I don't know if I can help it? I never follow directions, I never follow rules, I'm convinced that I'm capable of doing anything, and sometimes it bites me in the ass (or the ankle). I remember when taking music theory, I would never follow the directions on the worksheets. I would breeze through it (music theory was my favorite and I was very good at it) only to find out from Jordan that I did it completely wrong because I failed to read the directions. A normal person would learn from these types of mistakes and fix them, but I guess I'm just stubborn.

Here's Kirra on her bike. I didn't get a picture on mine.

So it's pretty early, like 11am when this happened. It's Kirra's last day here, she flies out early tomorrow morning to go home to Australia, so I don't want to ruin our day with my injured ankle. I insist on continuing our day, so after cleaning up the blood and scrapes that my legs endured, we headed back into Ubud (which is where we were intending on going in the first place) but on the way there ran into our favorite driver! What a coincidence. So we hop into his car and he takes us to Ubud so that I don't have to walk all the way on my ankle. He drops us off at the Ubud market where Kirra and I buy some souvenirs and shop around. I nearly fall at least 20 times and my ankle doesn't understand what I'm doing to him (Him? Why am I a girl but my ankle is a boy? These are things I can't explain.) Kirra so kindly offers to go to the pharmacy for me a short distance away while I wait for her at the Starbucks. Why is there a Starbucks here? And why is every single white person on this island here? Including myself! I indulge myself in a s'mores frappuccino. Have you tried these? They taste like heaven and I immediately hate myself for being so basic while in Bali. Oh well, the damage is done and don't I deserve a treat for falling off of a bike?! (This is the same train of thought I have for completing each page of a 25 page research assignment. I finished one page, don't I deserve to play Sims for 3 hours straight?! This way of rewarding myself for doing next to nothing is why I've developed such horrible procrastinating tendencies. But don't worry guys, I still got a 4.0 this past semester so maybe it really is a good system!)

Ms. Sallory. I kept saying "M" but he kept saying "S" and so I said fuck it.

Anyway, so we can't find our driver. He told us he'd meet us at this temple and he's not here. Kirra and I are making small talk with some taxi drivers who ask if she's a boy. Except they always ask me instead of her. Finally we see our driver and he takes us back. Not being able to suck up my pain anymore, I tell Kirra to go off and do her own thing while I ice and elevate my ankle. At this point it's so swollen that I have a cankle.

It's a CANKLE

A couple hours pass and Kirra decides she's hungry for dinner so we go out to find this Mexican restaurant. A Mexican restaurant in Bali?! Yes please. But we get there and it's all healthy shit. Like tortilla stuffed with bean sprouts and some other leafy shit that I don't want to eat. I'm not some hippy! So we leave and try a different restaurant. This one has real food so we stay. And they also have a drink called "sex on the rice field" so it's a winner in my opinion. I get that drink and order a fish burger (it was the tastiest thing that has ever touched my tastebuds). We finish our meal and head back to the hotel. I'm tired and know that I don't want to walk anywhere else on my ankle so we hang out on my porch drinking Bintang. It's nice. But then the inevitable doom of night came and I knew that we had to say our goodbyes and part ways. Kirra, being the ass that she is, goes for a handshake (this is a joke because Kirra and I said goodbye via handshake in Kenya) but I want a hug. And I'm the opposite of a huggy person, but I'm going to miss her. I enjoy her company more than most people, we somehow understand each other and she's one of the few people who don't get on my nerves after being with for prolonged hours. But we say goodbye and I go to bed, slightly sad but happy for the few days we got to see each other. Kirra and I have a somewhat complicated history (even though we've only known each other for a little over a year now) but despite everything we've been through, she's still a dear friend and I have a lot of respect for her. So my next trip will probably be to Australia to visit her.

Well I suppose that's all I have to say about today. My ankle fucking hurts (sorry for the profanities, this is me being me, I want my writing to be unfiltered). Goodnight.

June 24, 2016

June 24, 2016

Good morning (or good evening here in Bali). Much like yesterday, I really didn't do all that much today besides go to the beach. Due to my sunburn, which has turned a nice shade between purple and red, I tried to stay out of the sun today. I woke up at 8am, got breakfast which consisted of an omelette, two small pancakes with honey, a piece of toast with jam, and a glass of mango juice. Breakfast is easily becoming my favorite part of the day here, I find myself excited at the prospect of shoving tasty food into my mouth. It's not all too different from how I feel every other day though because I really love food. I also really love sleep, which is why I took a mid-morning nap. After breakfast I walked down the street to the pharmacy to get some aloe vera for my sunburn then I came back, lathered it on and slept. I'm horribly lazy.

Part of me gets anxious because I'm not sure I'm using my time wisely here. But then another part of me knows that I'm on vacation by myself and I get to do whatever I want to do, and if that means taking a 1.5 hour nap at 11am, dammit, I'm going to do it. I try not to feel guilty about it. The truth is that while I love it here and I love just lying on the beach, there is a small part of me that is bored and I seriously hate that. I'm in Bali!

I woke up from my nap and headed down to the beach where I sat until sunset. I met my friend Torus there, drank enough Bintang to get me buzzed, and thoroughly enjoyed myself. Torus has a nice camera and likes to take pictures on the beach at sunset so we drove his motorbike back to his apartment to grab his camera and bring it back. While there, I met his neighbor's puppy who's name was Spot. I think Spot is a Beagle and he's soooooooo cute but he pees whenever somebody pets him even if he likes you. I have to admit that I prefer being the passenger of a motorbike than the driver. Torus jokes that he's going to teach me to drive it and I just laugh because I know that's not going to happen for several reasons: 1) after my fall on Monday, I'm still scared and 2) I could barely drive for 5 minutes down an uncrowded alley in Ubud much less a thriving city like Kuta. For the sake of both of our lives, I should probably just stay away from driving a motorbike for a while.

This is my third or fourth Bintang today

Spot is so cute isn't he?!?! (sorry, I just really love dogs)

Watching the sunset on the beach was hands down one of the most beautiful things I have ever watched. The colors in the sky, Mount Agung (an active volcano) in the distance behind the clouds, the way the sand looked like glass, I loved it all. After that, I headed back to my hotel where I got some "Aussie" pizza (it had ham, olives, and pineapple on it).

Photo credit: Torus

You can see Mount Agung, the active volcano in the back

I've been calling my mom pretty much every day for the past couple of days because I find myself a little bored and lonely. But not lonely enough to venture off to the bouncing nightclubs that surround my hotel. I'm not about that life. I just got off the phone with her (it's morning there) and she woke up to a stray cat just hanging out in our yard. We live in the middle of a cornfield in the middle of nowhere Michigan so this is quite common. It's actually how we got my cat Roger. She looked so cute and friendly, she was black and white, and for some reason I decided to name her Ravioli. I name all of our animals, it's kind of my thing. I think the job I would be best at in the entire world would be to name all of the animals at an animal shelter. Sometimes when I go there they have the ugliest names and I'm like "who even named you?! Because I can do better than that!" I have a knack for names and I also have a knack for knowing which type of animal somebody looks like. These skills will get me absolutely nowhere in life but whatever.

Isn't it nuts about the UK?! One of the things I like most in life is keeping up-to-date on the news and one of the things that I like least about traveling is that it's almost impossible to keep up-to-date on the news. But I've been watching CNN and Al Jazeera here every night along with reading newspaper articles on the Internet when I have time. I have to say, I didn't expect the UK to vote to leave the EU and I think it's going to be catastrophic for them. I mostly feel for the younger generation who is going to have to clean up this mess that they inherited. The largest group of people who decided the referendum were older Britons, the group that overwhelmingly wanted to leave. It's ironic to me that the UK, a country which colonized over half of the world, voted to leave the EU largely in part to not absorb refugees accepted by other EU nations and to have to abide by the institution's rules. The xenophobia that drips from this decision is pure irony to me. But then who am I to judge? We have Donald Trump as a serious contender for arguably the most powerful position in the world.

Also crazy is the sit-in the Democrats are staging in the House! Go them! Demand better gun control for the safety of our people. Don't let the NRA buy you and your vote. My god, all of the stupidity I've been reading about this whole gun thing on Facebook is laughable. Nobody wants to take your guns away and nobody is trying to do that. The call for gun control means that if you're on a terrorist watchlist or on the no-fly list, you should not be able to buy a gun. Like can we all agree on that? This should not be partisan politics, this should be plain common sense. Background checks should be necessary for any purchase of a firearm. These aren't insane propositions. But perhaps we should take it further. I don't think any civilian needs to purchase a semi-automatic weapon that can fire 180 rounds per minute, 3 per second. If you're a law-abiding citizen that has a logical argument for why you need a semi-automatic firearm that shoots that fast, please offer it to me now because I'm curious. Dear god, do not say hunting. Because if you are hunting with a semi-automatic there is no sport to that. If you can't agree on sensible gun control laws because you don't want your guns taken away or because it's your American right, I have some choice words for you. Nobody is trying to take your guns away. Like really, not Obama, not your senator, not your congressman, nobody. If you legally obtained a gun and are in a mental condition which allows you to own one, then you shall continue to do so. I think your obsession with guns is a little insane but I believe in your right to own one. I don't believe, however, that if you are a suspected terrorist or not deemed suitable to fly on an aircraft due to suspicious activity that you should be able to purchase any kind of gun. Nor do I think you should be able to buy a gun without any type of background check. Plain and simple. I apologize for the rant, especially if anybody is still reading at this point, but those are my thoughts on recent news stories.

Okay, well it's time for me to watch some CNN and relax. I'm surprisingly tired this evening for having done nothing today so I think I will go to bed soon.

June 19, 2016

June 19, 2016

It's Sunday here and the weather is possibly the hottest, muggiest, wettest weather I've ever experienced in my life. Sure, the high says it's 89 degrees (hot but manageable) but when factoring in the humidity levels, which exceed 100% every single day, it feels like a blistering 110 degrees. I'm a sweaty, sticky mess from the moment I wake up to the moment I step out of the shower. How is this possible? I look around me, the Indonesians are used to this but what about the other white people? They all look flawless with beach waves in their hair, perfectly tanned skin, the right amount of dewiness on their face to make them look effortlessly sexy. Now turn to me; my hair is nearly an afro and soaked in sweat that it gathered from my forehead, my face is broken out because it hates this weather and what I'm doing to it, my white skin has a pink tint to it because it doesn't understand how to react to the climate here, and every pore on my body is excreting stinky perspiration. It's really quite the sight.

Some people are really good travelers. They manage to look pristine after stepping off of a 15 hour flight and walking 2 miles through a foreign airport. They come prepared, they know the city because they've spent countless hours researching it and know every single sight they want to see. They are masters at reasoning with foreigners. This is definitely not me. I'm a zombie when I step off a plane. I haven't brushed my teeth in far too long, my hair has an indent in it both from sleeping (and probably snoring) with my head in all kinds of awkward positions and also from the strap of my eye mask, I'm wearing the most comfortable clothes I own which happen to make me look like a cross between a mom who just got out of a sweaty yoga class and your local homeless man. I've done the minimal amount of research necessary to not die when I arrive (booked my hotel, that's basically it). Aside from the obvious attractions that I know I must visit (the Colosseum in Rome, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, etc.), I have absolutely no clue what to do. I wander around aimlessly, presumably the butt of every joke made by the natives watching me attempt to fold up a city map and failing miserably. All of my friends and family assume that since I've traveled so much that I must be good at traveling. This is a bold-faced lie (I had to look up whether the phrase was bald-faced or bold-faced, if this gives you any type of insight into the kind of person I am). Perhaps this is why I prefer to travel alone? I can come back from my adventures with snazzy pictures and cool souvenirs while my friends and family demand to hear all about it and I can act like I'm a natural world traveler. Or maybe it's because I like to be able to do whatever I want to do whenever I want to do it without having to cater to the needs of a travel companion. It's probably a combination of the two.

Okay, so onto the actual adventure of the day, the part you all want to read about. Kirra and I had such a great time on the day-long adventure yesterday that we decided to go on another today! Our same driver (I'm omitting his name because I forgot to ask his permission if he could be the character of my blog and I don't want to infringe upon his privacy) picked us up at 10am again with a whole list of things for us to do. First on the list was a chocolate factory. I love chocolate, but this was not the reason for wanting to go to this place. In fact, the owners of the chocolate factory rescued three sun bears from hunters a few years back and have kept them on their property since then. And they are super friendly! So the motivation for visiting this chocolate factory was to pet some sun bears and possibly eat delicious chocolate (although I would settle for just petting the sun bears). We arrive to the chocolate factory after searching for it for far too long (nothing is easy to find in Bali) and find out that it's the bears' day off. Crap! I was so excited to cuddle with some sun bears that it was hard to hide my disappointment.

But there's no point in sulking about it because we got to see some elephants. These poor elephants had to carry fat white people around on their backs all day. You could see the marks on their ankles from where they were tied up by chains. Their eyes were sad and it actually made me want to cry because I hate what these humans have done to these beautiful creatures. And I hate that people ignorantly ride them as a tourist attraction thinking solely about themselves and not the poor elephants that were not physically built to carry obese people on their backs (this is a scientific fact, you can look it up if you don't believe me). So Kirra and I talked to the elephants for some time, Kirra even fed them, and we drank a chocolate shot (it was free with our ticket) then headed out.

Do you see the chain marks on their ankles?

Chocolate shot

After driving up and down roads through meadows and mountains, we arrived at a botanical garden. It was like a giant park with remarkable foliage tucked away in the mountains. The air was much cooler here thanks to the altitude and families were scattered around the grass with picnics and tents for camping. We parked along the road and walked around for a little while.

This is from the drive to the botanical garden

This is also from the drive

Botanical garden

After leaving the botanical garden, we made our way to a lake with a famous temple. The temple was stunning with the lake and low clouds in the background. Before walking to the temple, though, we stopped to watch a Balinese gamelan ensemble with traditional dancers. Since taking a musics of the world class a few years back, I've been interested in Balinese gamelan and was so delighted to witness one in real life on the island that it originated! The sounds of the ensemble are beautiful and the moves of the dancers are graceful. After watching this, we walked around. This trip is actually making me become very racist towards white people (can I say this?). Kirra and I witnessed two women (presumably Russian or Eastern European) sit underneath a tree and proceed to have a photoshoot while pretending to meditate (all for a stupid Instagram picture). This is such a small thing and normally I wouldn't be bothered by it, but Kirra said it perfectly when she said it's almost as if they're mocking the culture. I get it, if you come to Bali for a spiritual getaway (Eat, Pray, Love) that's really awesome and I'm really proud of you (this is not sarcasm, I am actually very proud that you have devoted a part of your life to improving yourself), but for a photoshoot with an iPhone? Don't come to Bali if you're just interested in having pictures of yourself taken that make you look like you're truly Balinese, that's you're so Balinese that you're actually meditating under a tree by a temple because that's not even remotely true. Have respect for culture and if you are interested in learning about that culture or partaking in some of the traditions, do it. But don't do it for the sake of an Instagram photo, please.

Balinese gamelan ensemble

Temple on the lake. Look at the clouds!

After the temple, we went to lunch where I proceeded to eat two whole plates of Indonesian food that was so heavenly I forgot to take a picture of it. I don't know as if I've ever eaten food so fast. We were starved because by this time it was already 3pm and we hadn't ate yet.

When we finished eating, we left the lake to drive 1.5 hours to Tanah Lot, a seaside temple. We arrived and had to walk through a market, but this was the best market I've ever been to because there were animals! I got to hold an owl, pet a luwak (those things that eat coffee beans then poop them out into delightful and expensive coffee), hold a snake, and look at the largest bat I've ever seen in real life. After we navigated our way through the market, we made it out to the ocean and temple and walked around (as per usual). Again, my dislike of white people became evident with all of the photoshoots going on but I tried to ignore it. People are ignorant and they will do anything for some Instagram likes, but this isn't my problem. It was just as the sun was setting that we got there, so it was especially beautiful.

This bat is huge and so are his balls

I want a luwak!

Snake

We were best friends

After we were done at Tanah Lot, we drove an hour back to Ubud where it was then dark. I was so drained from today that I went straight back to my room and called it a night. Kirra went out for dinner but I was so tired that I didn't even want to. Goodnight everyone.

June 23, 2016

June 23, 2016

I did absolutely nothing today and it was perfect.  I stayed up late last night (like 1am late, which is super late considering I’ve been going to bed by 10pm every night here!) to conduct a phone interview for my internship back in Albuquerque (more details to come in a few days) but I still woke up at 8am. I showered, threw my bathing suit on and a dress without a lick of makeup or anything to my hair (this has been my thing since coming to Bali) and proceeded downstairs for some delicious breakfast. I started off with some small pancakes served with honey (YUM), some Indonesian noodles and steamed rice (this is a popular breakfast in Indonesia), then finished it with a small bowl of cereal. I feasted.

I headed down the street to Kuta Beach, walking past all kinds of shops and people trying to sell me anything you can imagine.  It would normally be a 10-minute walk but since I think I’ve done some permanent damage to my ankle (not kidding), it took about twice as long as I was hobbling at best. I got to the beach at 10am and parked my butt right on the sand, laid down, and began reading. It’s hard to get some peace and quiet here because sellers on the beach try to talk you into buying things from bracelets, to massages, to ice cream. I finally gave into a nice older woman named Agung for a massage (it was $5 for an hour massage and she had very strong hands – this was an offer I definitely couldn’t refuse).

When the massage was over, I walked back over to where I was sitting, made friends with some local Indonesians who offered me a chair and sat with them.  Also sitting near me was an Australian family from Sydney who I befriended and we had a good chat about Donald Trump and America’s obsession with guns, it was great.  Between bouts of reading, talking, and laughing, I periodically got in the bath-warm waters of the ocean to cool off and swim with my new friend, Tarus. Tarus is a really good surfer (this is quite common here, to surf) and we agree that he’s going to teach me tomorrow even though my ankle is in bad shape.  Hours go by, Bintang’s have been opened then drank, and before I realize it, it’s 5pm. 

Those of you that know me know that I have porcelain white skin (thank you Michigan and dad) but I figured since I haven’t been able to work up a tan at all since being in Bali despite spending all day, every day out in the sun that I didn’t need to apply sunscreen.  So I didn’t. And I hate myself for that obviously terrible decision because 7 hours in the sun has left me with a pretty nasty burn. I’m normally so paranoid about getting skin cancer – I lecture everyone I know who goes to the tanner (I’m talking to you Shelby and Mom), I insist on the highest SPF possible, and I take every step to avoid the devastating rays from the sun (hello wrinkles, skin cancer, sun spots, etc.), but not this time and I’m going to pay for it. This very moment I can feel heat radiating off of me and I hate it. So I will lather on that sunscreen tomorrow and embrace my pasty whiteness (which men here incidentally love).

While I was in Ubud, I was blown away by how polite the men were. Whenever I visit other countries (Kenya, even Europe), the men tend to call out to me or look at me as if they’re undressing me. And this is not me being like “I’m so hot all the men want me” because I’m certain that they do this with all women. It’s so annoying and so disrespectful. But the men in Ubud weren’t like that and I loved it! However, when I was sitting on the beach today, a scruffy-looking man walked past me trying to sell me something and called me something in Indonesian. I turned to Tarus to ask what it meant and he spelled out the letters “MILF” in the sand. I’M NOT EVEN A  MOM. Like how old did he think I was? People have been asking me if I’m 18 this entire trip and now suddenly this man (who is absolutely middle-aged I should mention) thinks I’m capable of being a mother? And a hot one at that? So I stood right up and shouted out to him that I’m not a mom because I needed to clarify that for my own sake.

Around 4pm, Tarus and I walked a little down the beach to get some authentic Indonesian food being sold at a stand. It was wrapped in a cardboard pyramid and contained rice, noodles, and chicken, all a little spicy. But it was like $0.75! So in an effort to save money/only spend my money on massages from old Indonesian women with weird fingernails, I will probably eat at this stand for the rest of my time here. And let me clarify something, all of these activities with Tarus definitely seem romantic (strolled along the beach as the sun was setting, etc.) but were 100% not. Not that I am not capable of getting an Indonesian boyfriend (there’s something about their brown skin that I like), but I’m on vacation to relax, not to get swept up in some drama with someone I’m never going to see again. And yes, that sounds like the plot of a movie and like the most perfect love story waiting to happen but no thank you. I’ll pass. But maybe some day? That sounded  really cavalier of me to say but that’s not how I meant it, I just mean that I’m not at the point in my life where I want to commit to something like a boyfriend who lives on a small island 10,000 miles away. You get that, right?

This entire trip I have felt nothing but content and happy. I did nothing today and it was all I ever wanted. But when I got back to my hotel, I found myself actually feeling a little lonely. I never feel lonely because I prefer to be alone (nothing against anyone, it’s just my thing) but the feeling hit me all of a sudden. I miss my family most of all (they are probably eating this shit up right now because I’m the most unemotional, least lovey-dovey person in the world and it’s rare for me to be this way). But here I am, missing my dad’s stupid (yes, they’re stupid but that’s why they’re funny) jokes, the way he sings “and the thunder rolls” whenever (LITERALLY WHENEVER) thunder happens, my mom calling me crying because I didn’t answer my phone and she thinks I’ve been mugged and/or murdered, the way she goes on and on about a show that I literally give no shits about but still pretend to listen (love you). My cats at home, Jefferson and Matilda, they fart all the time. And Jesus Christ, I think I actually miss their farts? That is almost certainly one of the most messed up things that has ever come out of my mouth. I miss Jordan, even though we push each other’s buttons and I hate that he made me watch that stupid video of baby Dory (it was pretty cute but not stop everything that you’re doing and watch this video at least 30 times cute). I miss Michigan and a climate that isn’t 150% humidity. But no worries, I still love it here, I’m just missing my home. Sorry this blog post is so long, I’ve started writing it on my computer instead of in my journal then typing it and I find myself not being able to shut up. Typing is so much easier than writing! Why have I not been doing this all along?!

June 16, 2016

June 16, 2016

Yesterday I contacted my driver who picked me up from the airport to see if he could drive us around Ubud for the day and luckily he said yes!  I compiled a list of places that I wanted to go that I had gathered from my Lonely Planet Bali guidebook, Pinterest, various travel blogs, and articles titled exciting things like "19 things nobody knows about in Ubud" or something like that. So he picked Kirra and I up at 10am and I was beyond excited.  On our way to the driver's car, we walked past a temple (there are temples literally everywhere here. Literally.) that had a ceremony. It was a special Hindu holiday today, something about the full moon. If I'm being honest, I'm not entirely sure but it was still fascinating to witness.  I should mention, the island of Bali is predominantly Hindu, which is unique because Indonesia (the country that Bali belongs to) is the largest Muslim country in the world, so for this entire island to be almost completely Hindu is quite special. Hinduism is taken very seriously here and while I am a proud atheist, I am completely in awe of this religion. It's beautiful and if I was not a serious lover of red meat (the cow is holy), this is a religion that would be entice me. Balinese make offerings of flowers and leaves every single day and leave them on the streets or near statues, some even stick them on their windshields so that they will be protected while driving.

These are the offerings

The first place we stopped on our day trip is a traditional Balinese house, which is separate buildings for each room. One building is a kitchen, another to prepare food, another to perform religious ceremonies, another to sleep in, etc. This particular house had people still living in it so we were walking in their real house (it felt a little intrusive to be honest) and taking pictures of their real belongings like it's a museum. At one point, we even walked into a bedroom where there was a television on as if someone had just been watching it. The most exciting part of the house, besides the cultural goodness of it was that the family had pet porcupines! They were kept in a cage out back and they even had a little baby - it was so cute.

Traditional Balinese house

Pet porcupines!

After stopping there, we went to a jewelry-making shop where women made fine jewelry with their bare hands. It was a little expensive, but still neat to see the process. Following that, we went to an art gallery and I was blown away by the artistry. Such beautiful paintings. I found myself drawn to the texture of each of the paintings, especially in the paintings of rice fields where the painter managed to create the perfect texture. After the art gallery, we went to a woodcarving shop. Everything was impeccable and meticulous. The details of each carving had taken months, sometimes years to perfect and it was obvious.

We left the woodcarving to go to a temple. You'll have to forgive me because the names of the temples I have visited have slipped my mind, if I even knew them in the first place. This was the first temple I had visited and women are required to wear modest clothing. Technically, women who are menstruating or are pregnant can't even enter the temples (thankfully, I had neither of these problems) but it's all based on the honor system. If I had come all the way to Bali just to be told I can't enter a temple because of a monthly biological norm, I think I would lie to get in. And maybe that's why I'm an atheist is because I clearly don't respect other religions. But anyway, in order to enter the temple we had to rent a sarong (a long piece of fabric wrapped around your waist like a skirt). The best part is that men and women wear their sarongs differently, so when they tied mine, they tied it like a woman sarong. When they tied Kirra's, they tied her's like a man's sarong! I couldn't even contain my laughter. We walk in and it's beautiful (I feel like I'm using this word too often but it's really the only word that so adequately fits), we get our pictures taken, we watch an Asian couple have a photoshoot reminiscent of prom, and walk around for a bit.

Look how Kirra's sarong is tied differently than mine!

Part of the temple

My sarong

After the temple, we went to a butterfly park. It was fun because none of the butterflies would land on us so we resorted to picking up the dead butterflies and pretending they were alive. Now that I've typed that out, I realize how demented that sounds but it was loads of fun.

This is a dead butterfly

One of my favorite parts of the day was going to a waterfall. We walked down something like 500 flights of stairs (that may be an underestimate) despite Kirra's complaints about it, to which I responded something like "come on, we're in Bali we have to" (I would later come to regret my words). When we got down to the bottom, we walked around, took some pictures, climbed over a log across the river, and climbed up some more stairs and some rough terrain to get right next to the waterfall. It was nice. After hanging out for a bit, we decided to make the journey back up to the top. This is when I began to regret my previous enthusiasm about going down the stairs. Let me tell you that these stairs were not normal stairs. Each stairs was like a stair-and-a-half so they were inconveniently large for someone who is 5'3". After stopping every 10 steps, we finally made it to the top where I proceeded to nearly puke over the edge whilst collapsing on some wooden structure to catch my breath. This lasted for about 15 minutes. Then we celebrated our feat with a Bintang (beer) and got back in the car.

Waterfall

My sweaty body while I concurrently threw up and died

After the waterfall, we stopped for lunch on a rice field where I got an exotic burger. I'm still nervous about the food considering my unfortunate experience with the food yesterday so lay off me for not eating Indonesian food.

When we finished lunch, we headed to the Elephant Cave (there were no elephants, sorry to disappoint you). This is an ancient temple built a long time ago (this is my most intelligent and technical guess as to how long ago) that was covered by the debris of an earthquake then rediscovered in the early 1900s. There is a fountain of youth where if you put the water on your face, you will stay young forever, this is a scientific fact. And I'm vain, so naturally I hopped right down into it and lathered up my face.

Elephant cave

Fountain of youth - I'm gonna be young forever!

After the Elephant Cave, we went to the Tegallalang rice fields where we had no motivation to climb down and up stairs anymore so we gave it a good look from the top. The structure and functionalism of the rice fields is beyond me and I'm actually convinced it takes a rice field engineer to build and figure out.

Rice fields

By now it's 6:30pm and we're tired from a day in the sweltering heat and we have arrived back at the hotel. All is good, I've showered for the second time today and am just now relaxing. Except when I lay down in bed, I make eye contact with an enormous gecko on my ceiling. Don't let the Geico commercials fool you, geckos are like straight up the size of a full grown iguana. While I'm normally a lover of all animals, my newfound friend who I named Richard (he goes by "Dick") was not welcome when I wanted to sleep. So I went to the front desk and they took a broom to the ceiling and Dick ran off (probably waiting for me to fall asleep so he could come cuddle in bed with me). It was a heck of a day.

This is Dick

June 15, 2016

June 14, 2016 (written on June 15)

I arrived in Bali last night but was so overcome with exhaustion (thank you 45 hour flight time) that I didn't write, so I hope you can forgive me.  I flew AirAsia, a budget airline, from Jakarta to Denpasar, a 1.5 hour flight that departed an hour later than scheduled (always).  The plane was like stepping into a crowded club: music blasting, bass cranked, and the flight crew wore bright, form-fitting clothes.  Honestly, I hate clubs but I think I was so exhausted that I didn't even care if I had to listen to Meghan Trainor while simultaneously being squeezed on all sides by sweaty people eager to get to their seats.  I've always thought that American-based airlines were pretty scant when it came to legroom (I'm talking to you, Spirit Airlines...), but nothing compares to this.  But who am I to complain when I booked a roundtrip ticket for just $65, taxes and fees included?  I slept the entire flight despite the booming music and the fact that I was sandwiched between a young Asian man and an older, tight-lipped Asian gentleman who insisted that the armrest was his.  I didn't mind, I was just interested in sleeping and that's exactly what I did. I don't remember taking off and I don't remember landing.  I closed my eyes in Jakarta and woke up in Bali at 11pm.

I sluggishly get off the plane and board a bus (because I'm flying the most budget of budget airlines and they obviously don't park at the terminal) to take me to the baggage claim area.  The airport is strangely open, like open walls and birds flying around open.  After grabbing my bag I go outside to find a normal-looking Balinese man holding a sign with my name on it. I should clarify, I arranged for an airport pick-up through my hotel prior to this so it's not total coincidence that a man is holding a sign that says Ms. Mallory Walton.  We walk to his car exchanging small talk - his English isn't great but it's understandable. I don't mind interpreting what he says because I'm already impressed that he has mastered more languages than I have.  I like my driver, he tells me about his family - three children and a wife, his pet bird (pet birds are very common here), and he asks me about my life. He's easy to talk to and even though I was exhausted, I kept finding myself continuing the conversation despite my internal want to take a nap in the car.

Driving in Bali is pretty shocking.  Roads signs, lanes, stoplights, none of these matter and nobody follows these.  But after spending a summer in Europe (Italian drivers are wild) and a summer in Kenya, I'm used to this type of driving. Since I arrived late at night, traffic was minimal and we drove from the airport in Denpasar to a city in central Bali called Ubud in a little under an hour.  We passed through villages and my driver told me all about each village; that one was famous for stone carving, that another was known for its parties.  After navigating long, windy roads in the dark we finally arrive at the hotel, except the hotel is nowhere to be found. It's more like a dark alley with crappy buildings surrounding it and I began to worry about what I had gotten myself into. No worries though, two men came riding up on motorbikes to take my luggage and me down the alley to where the hotel was located. It was absolutely lovely. Each room is a single building, kind of like a small cabin, with lush foliage and trees around.  My room is so beautiful; a king-sized bed, wooden fixtures, and best of all, an open ceiling shower.  I love it.

My friend Kirra is staying at the same hotel just a few buildings down from mine and the first thing I do when I arrive is go see her. We first met when I volunteered in Kenya last summer and immediately hit it off (although she would probably give me some smart ass comment about how she hates me, but don't worry, I would reciprocate the kindness).  I went to her room and we talked for about a half hour then I said goodnight because I wanted to go shower and then sleep.  As soon as I get back to my room (a short 1 minute walk away), she messages me and asks if she can come hang out in my room. So we stayed up until 3:30am laying in bed and catching up and it was perfect. You forget how much you miss someone until you get to see them again, and that's what happened to me.

The rice fields right outside my hotel

The first picture Kirra and I ever took together. Kenya 2015.

June 15, 2016

Kirra knocks on my door wakes me up too early. Like 8:30am early. And for those that know me, I am not a functional human being until at least 10:30am.  Okay, whatever, I'm in Bali and it's amazingly beautiful and I should stop being so lazy. I get up and we have breakfast - mediocre at best. It was pretty much a sorry excuse of an omelette, some good watermelon, some not-so-good rotten feet smelling fruit, toast, and some watered down mango juice (I'm pretty sure it's just water with orange color and a spoonful of sugar). But I'm in Bali and I don't care as long as it fills me up. We venture out to the city of Ubud a "short 20 minute walk away," (more like damp, humid, scorching 35 minute walk away) to explore, find an ATM, go to the store, etc. Ubud is really beautiful. I can't even describe its beauty. It's green, the Hindu culture is evident everywhere, the architecture is truly rare, and the smell of incense somehow fills the air outside (how do the Balinese manage to do this? Please teach me your ways).

We make our way down to the Ubud market, which is this crazy-busy place where you have to be a master at negotiating and bargaining price (because if you pay the amount they ask for, you are wasting your money). I had to bargain in Kenya so it wasn't my first time having to do so, but I still don't enjoy it. Some people are really good at it, but maybe I'm just too nice and they sense it? I don't know, but I'm pretty sure every Balinese shopkeeper likes when I come to their store because they know they're gonna make bank (sorry I just said that).

I got a little adventurous when it came time for lunch. I told the waitress to just bring me whatever is best (I'm almost certain she had no idea what I was saying and was probably just sick of white people at this point). When I got the plate of food, it looked amazing. There was a tower of rice in the center, and the rest of it I'm not really sure but it was decent. I ate like half of it because some of it was a little spicy and I'm very weak when it comes to spicy food. In fact, I ate so little of it that when the waitress came back, she said to me: "what the matter, you didn't like?" and I felt bad. I did like it! That is until it started making my stomach gurgle with the force of a hurricane. I barely made it to the bathroom. It hit me like a truck and put me out for a good rest of the day. Let me tell you that being a frequent traveler and having IBS does not make for the best combination. But I know that after a day or so, my body will adjust and I won't have this problem again.

This is the plate of food that sent me to the bathroom

Kirra and I went back out for dinner later. I went with a much safer option this time: a chicken quesadilla. It was good and it was exactly the kind of stability my stomach needed. After dinner, we bought some beers (Bintang is the beer of Indonesia and it's delicious) and hung out on the porch of my room for a couple hours before I went to bed. The sun sets here just past 6pm so I find that I get tired much sooner than normal.