In and Around Ubud

Bali has a special place in our hearts. We came here for the first time on our honeymoon in October 1994, and it was the first time that we traveled together outside the US. Denpasar was a mid-sized town back then, and Ubud still had the feeling of a small village. So much has changed since our first visit that we hardly recognize it. Ubud still remains the center of Bali’s cultural community, and holds a significant place in the minds of every Balinese. Even with all the changes over the past 10 years, Ubud is still surrounded by gorgeous rice paddies that remind us of our first visit.

We’ve rented a small house for the month, located in the village of Lodtunduh, just outside the now busy town of Ubud. Where Ubud bustles with traffic, people, restaurants and shops, Lodtunduh sits quietly in the famous city’s shadow. Our house faces directly west; overlooking the paddy fields lined with coconut palms and in the distance the mountains of Batakau and Pohon, soar skywards. The paddies have been irrigated, and are waiting for another round of planting, one of the three cycles per year.

The setting sun and clouds play with the colors of dusk and cast dark silhouettes from the coconut palms, reflecting on the still, watery surface of the paddy field. It is a dramatic, panoramic view to behold every evening. At the center of the paddy floats an emerald green island that houses the rice temple and enshrines the Balinese Rice God. Bats, auspicious animals in Asian lore, fly about and are almost indistinguishable from a group of swallows each swooping low over the muddy field, feasting on insects as the dark of night settles in. The variety of different bugs is astounding: giant bees, tiny ants, colorful beetles, brown moths, iridescent butterflies, a rainbow of dragonflies and the delightful fireflies we remember from our childhood. The Southern constellations spread out into the dark sky, looking unfamiliar and mysteriously beautiful.

Bali is just coming out of its annual rainy season. It is hot and humid during the day, with cooling, welcoming showers that come briefly in the afternoons or evenings. The rain and clouds enhance the gorgeous scenery, causing the tropical colors to sparkle through the lingering raindrops. The weather pattern is a refreshing change for us, considering the sky has been mostly a whitish-blue haze that has shimmered in a hot, dry heat during our travels through Southeast Asia. Here, we are reminded by how much clouds add to the mood of the surrounding views.

Because Ubud is a cultural center, various forms of traditional performance art are concentrated here. Tourists can enjoy many staged performances throughout town, often in beautiful gardens set against traditional architecture. However, it’s important to realize that the Balinese also conduct these performances more privately, in their temples, as part of their Hindu ceremonies and most dances are considered quite sacred. The themes for the theater, dance and music are often found in the many Hindu myths that are adopted from the epic Ramayana story. These are intermixed with other traditional religious beliefs that reflect the Hindu-influenced animism that is the basis of the Balinese spiritual life.

In addition to traditional arts, contemporary arts are also flourishing, especially painting, sculpture and jewelry design. Many artists, both Bali natives and foreigners, live, create, and display their work in Ubud. There are a few notable art museums in town. The Asian art scene notices artwork coming from Bali, and is avidly followed by collectors in, but not limited to, Asia.

The main roads of Ubud have been polished up drastically since our last visit. The streets themselves were dusty roads dotted with souvenir shops and currency exchange booths back then. Now stylish restaurants, cafÈs, boutiques, jewelry showrooms and art galleries dominate the sidewalks. We will spend a little time exploring this new face of Ubud.

Mostly, though, we are happy to spend our last month of Global Fusion here among the rice paddies of Lodtunduh. It’s a peaceful, scenic place where we can contemplate the incredible journey that is now nearing its completion, or just sit and watch the rice grow.

New Years With A Splash

April means summer and with it comes a new year here in Thailand. “Songkran”, as it’s called, is the Thai New Year celebration that lasts for three days. During this time, people visit their temple to pray for health and prosperity, spend time with family and friends, and then wash away their sins in a nationwide water fight. The custom is to splash water and smear a paste of talcum powder on each other. If you venture out on the streets you’re bound to be drenched, and it’s a welcomed way of cooling off in the hottest season of the year.

The custom of celebrating New Year’s by splashing water on this grand scale is not only observed in Thailand, but also in the other primarily Buddhist countries of Laos, Myanmar and Cambodia. After visiting the temple, and spending quiet time with the family, the merry making begins in earnest. The neighborhood that we have called “home” here in Bangkok is no exception.

Squirt guns began appearing in shops weeks before April 13, the first day of Songkran. Children, especially, have been waiting for the “first soak” for days on end. Adults are not exempt from the fun, and are often the masterminds behind the large buckets of ice-cold water lining the streets. They have stocked up on food and drink, anticipating the celebration with friends and neighbors.

At the Democracy Monument in the center of Bangalumpu, the city erected a beautiful fountain display, lit up at night to create a spectacle of lights, color and music. The theme is the Naga, a sacred snake god and the protector of water, surrounded by a garden of lotus flowers. With fanfare music blasting, colorful lights beaming and the fountains spewing water all in the center of a major intersection, traffic slows down as everyone wants to have a look at the festive sight. Bangkokers gather on the streets and a general feeling of excitement fills the air. Other events are organized city wide, promoting traditional thai culture, including culinary delights, dance and music.

April 13th dawned quietly, but by noon our neighborhood street was filled with the excited screams and laughter of citizens in the midst of full on water attack. Karaoke machines were set up and adults in various stages of drunkenness sang their hearts out to Thai and Western pop songs. Others had their boom boxes at full volume blasting heavy metal, folk, or top 10 hit tunes. The street vibrated with every imaginable sound. Water hoses at the ready, the liquid ammunition flowed freely into large containers that were constantly being refilled. Tables set up in front of residences overflowed with an abundance of food and drink.

Everyone was soaked, and I thought, at first, that nobody would be spared. We braced ourselves for an ice cold shower from every direction. Initially we thought that things could easily get out of control, but the Thais knew better, and were very respectful in their celebration. From the safety of the guesthouse dining room, we watched the mayhem unfold, and to our surprise people were much more courteous that we had expected. They bowed and wei’ed (hands in prayer position) to elders and monks and asked their permission before splashing them with a tiny amount of water upon their hands. Often the victims thanked their attackers for offering them the traditional New Year greeting. Travelers who arrived carrying backpacks were also spared until they settled in. The water and talcum paste were strictly an outdoor affair and the insides of the residences and food stalls were respected.

Throughout the neighborhood, most everyone got into the spirit. Truckloads of assailants from other neighborhood slowly made their way down our street, and launched bucketfuls of water from their moving position. These friendly attacks prompted laughter and cheerful screams from all. At first, we were hesitant to dive in, but we simply couldn’t resist. We found ourselves fully soaked, and launched our own attacks on those who came within splashing distance. Our neighborhood friends ambushed us, gently smearing the cool and fragrant talcum paste on our face and skin. Other pedestrians walked the street completely drenched, and in the end, we all looked liked rain-soaked tribal warriors.

Along the Dusty Road

It’s April in Siem Reap, and the dry heat is unbearable. The streets are dusty and dirty, like the children that make them their home. Mothers, holding babies, sit outside the many restaurants begging for change. The people here have certain edginess about them; perhaps a reminder of their countries troubled past and the persistent poverty that continues to haunt them. April is the tail end of high season, and many windows in the up-market hotels remain dark. There are scores of services geared to the tourist market, attached with Western style prices. The local food stalls can be reasonable, but still come with special tourist pricing that we’ve not experienced elsewhere. We have just arrived, yet, we feel at odds with the town already.

We’re here to visit Angkor Wat, one of the Seven Wonders of the World. With our many visits to Bangkok, we never took the time to visit Thailand’s neighbor, Cambodia. On this leg of our journey, we made it a priority. It’s not easy getting here, unless you fly (we recommend that you do!), and we’re not looking forward to the ride back to Bangkok after the hellish trip we’ve just experienced.

While it’s not a pleasant journey overland, it is inexpensive. From Bangkok to Siem Reap the cost was a mere 170 Baht (less than 5 US dollars) compared to about $200 US roundtrip for a flight. The real cost, however, is in the time and the discomfort of the trip. The drive to the Thai border is easy enough, as Thailand has a modern highway with smooth roads. The A/C bus was comfortable and our driver made good time despite being pulled over for a traffic violation. It took just under 5 hours to reach the Cambodian border, having left Bangkok at 8AM.

From there it took about an hour at the border for us to exit Thailand and enter Cambodia. We said goodbye to our friendly Thai bus driver and were herded down the main street by an angry Khmer man who obviously hated his job. After waiting around some more at his office, we were crammed into a dilapidated mini van for the drive to Siem Reap. Thankfully the headlights and brakes worked, and we started off on the half-paved, pothole-ridden road. The jarring bumps and overwhelming dust brought back memories of the dirt tracks we traveled on in Mongolia. The landscape on both sides of the road consists of flat farmland with scattered houses and only a few lonely looking trees.

The driver, intent on getting us to Siem Reap well after dark, made the first stop only an hour into the drive, and we all waited around until he had a good long rest. The second stop, two hours later, was in a small, dusty village where everything facing the road was covered with thick red dirt. Young girls swarmed the van selling postcards, friendship bracelets, cold drinks and other trinkets. They practiced their English with us, laughing and showing us their big smiles that quickly turned into frowns when they found that sales were lacking.

We were exhausted when the van finally pulled into Siem Reap. After 14 hours of hellish travel, the driver drops us at a guesthouse of his choice; intent on making a nice commission from anyone who chooses to stay here. We checked the room, and then politely declined the overpriced offer. It’s after 9PM, hungry and tired as we headed out into the dark, unfamiliar town in search of bed for the night. Lucky for us, Siem Reap is a bit over-developed and has loads of rooms to choose from.

There is a positive part in all this, however. There is a community that provides housing and education to orphans and their children of the Khmer Rouge massacre. Killing Field Memorial Park and Buddhist temples huddle in the outskirts of Siem Reap, where the community is tucked quietly as if to receive healing from them. They live in simple huts and are trying to make the best out of what they can, in the nation where still thousands of land mines are being disarmed, one at a time. Monks and foreign volunteers teach children foreign languages like English, Japanese and French, hoping that such skills would help them to make living in the future. Annoyances of the town aside, Cambodia has been trying hard to come out of deep-rooted trauma; and this is one example we have observed.

In fact, we’ve been hearing such great things about Cambodia from fellow travelers. They say it’s an un-mined gem in Southeast Asia. It’s a pity we don’t have the time to explore the country properly, as the whole tourist scene in Siem Reap has left us with a bit of a sour taste in our mouth. We had to ask ourselves if all the backaches and frustrations were really worth it in the end? Our answer: Angkor Wat is incredible! But that’s another story.