As soon as we arrived at our resort last night, I dashed into the darkness and waded in the East China Sea. I let the water splash over my Chacos for a few minutes before heading back to our room to unpack. What is it about the salty air, the pounding surf, the spongy wet sand that trumps all the frustrations and little annoyances in life?
This morning, Tony and I enjoyed an early breakfast outside, overlooking the ridiculously long pool and the crashing waves of the sea, followed by a walk up the beach. We sauntered for about an hour, trying to decide which sand we preferred: the hard wet sand where the cold water doused our feet and legs, the mushy aerated sand that gave way under each step, or the dry powdery sand that worked our toes and calves. Mmmm … can’t decide. I love every inch of the beach.
During our walk, we encountered these round basket-boats. We watched two fishermen drag their basket-boats down the beach and into the water, where they each stood precariously on a little platform inside the boat and used an oar to paddle. They bobbed on the waves for a bit, eventually anchoring and tossing their nets.
“We totally need one of those for our lake house,” Tony said. Then we had a good laugh picturing ourselves paddling around Lake Orion, Michigan, in our basket-boat. We figured we’d be too stupid to work the thing, so it would just spin around like the teacup ride at Disney.
It’s a little overcast, but the temperature is perfect.
The water here is colder than Thailand but warmer than New Jersey. Nice on your legs, but I’m not sure I’ll immerse my whole body. That’s why God made swimming pools. We stepped off the beach and right up to our hotel’s pool. They even have a little coconut-shell scoop for washing sand off your feet.
The busy-ness of a new semester at school and the reluctance of our internet provider to actually provide internet has left me with a backlog of blog posts to post. Let’s see if I can catch up a bit.
Back to Bangkok (cue Scooby Doo sound effects that imply stepping back in time) … The best part of being an obsessive-compulsive over-planner is that the myriad contingencies for which you plan can’t ALL happen, which often results in some free time. As we prepared to look for new teaching jobs at the international recruitment fairs in Bangkok last month, I had planned for three possible outcomes:
(A) attending two fairs and getting hired at the last minute,
(B) networking at the first fair and getting hired at the second fair, and
(C) getting hired at the first fair and not having to attend the second fair. Therefore, I registered for both the ISS and Search Associates fairs, paid in advance (with air miles) for the two hotels and booked flights that kept us in Bangkok for 12 days.
As you may know from my previous post, we were extremely fortunate to finish the recruitment process with scenario C and will move to New Delhi, India, at the end of July to start work at the American Embassy School. That left six days in Bangkok to NOT scour the internet for information about international schools, to NOT wander the back alleys near our hotel looking for a cheap but reliable drycleaner, to NOT stage mock interviews over dinner, and best of all to NOT panic about our future.
As this was our gajillionth visit to Bangkok, we felt no pressure to tromp through the tourist attractions (although we did spend one fun morning at Chatuchak Market, which I love!). Instead, we hopped on the Skytrain and got off here and there, walking, window shopping, people watching, snacking, and smiling.
I loved this sign in the Skytrain stations.
Our first hotel was right next to the Skytrain stop at the river. To get back to our second hotel – the location of the second job fair, which we didn’t attend – we took the Skytrain to the river, where the hotel’s boat ferried us home. Isn’t there always something magical about being on the water?
One morning we met up with our friend Tara, who teaches at the International School of Bangkok. You know she’s pretty special when she agrees to meet for breakfast despite having just flown in from the States at 2 a.m. that morning. Her beautiful daughter, Sojo, fell victim to jetlag and stayed home with her daddy. Although we were disappointed not to score time with the whole family, we treasured catching up with Tara.
Tara turned us on to Crepes & Co., a quiet little café with a shady garden and the most scrumptious mango lassi of my life. Tony and I went back there for lunch the next day; that’s how much we loved it.
Wandering in Bangkok’s massive malls, I realized how much I used to love shopping! Since moving to a developing country in the tropics, I’m a bit out of the habit. Tony and I spent a full day exploring every corner of Central Shopping Center, not purchasing but gawking at the endless extravagance.
The mall sculptures amused us.
Dizzy with anticipation, we arrived at the cinema in the mall desperate to see a movie, any movie. With no theaters in Vientiane, we often get TV shows and films on DVD, but it’s not the same. We bought VIP tickets to see “The Tourist” with Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie. Our tickets entitled us to an appetizer buffet and blue slushie mocktails, which we carried to our plush love-seat recliner in the viewing room. The cinema butler then covered us with blankets and brought popcorn and sodas. We had to stand for the Thai national anthem, but then we snuggled down into our comfy sofa for what turned out to be a mediocre movie.
As we were leaving the mall, we spotted this kiosk – Cupcake Love. How could we resist? I scarfed down a red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting, while Tony devoured an Oreo cupcake. The pink color scheme, frilly pillows and cupcake waitresses made our treats even sweeter.
From Central, we took the elevated walkway to Paragon Mall, where we ran into Whetu, a friend from Vientiane. We’re always amazed at how often we see people we know while strolling around this city of 9 million inhabitants. We later met Whetu for dinner at a Mexican restaurant.
One evening, we took a short ferry ride to the riverside Yok Yor Restaurant. As we often do when faced with overwhelmingly extensive menus, we asked the waiter to pick the best dishes for us. In Thailand, we often stick with the familiar curries, papaya salad and noodle dishes. This time, we were treated to mouth-watering stuffed crab and a variety of spicy side dishes.
In the weeks before the job fairs, I visualized scenarios A, B and C, as well as the dreaded D – not getting hired at either fair and returning to Vientiane without jobs for 2011-12. It’s true that schools continue to hire well into the spring, but it would have been demoralizing nonetheless. What a relief to come home to Laos employed and rested.
‘Tis the season for deck-the-halls, family reunions, holiday-making and recruitment fairs for international teachers.
Unlike other professions, in which you find a new job before resigning from your present one, international teachers often have to announce their plans for the following school year before they head off for Christmas vacation. In our case, the deadline was Dec. 15. At that point, we either had to sign a contract to stay another year at Vientiane International School in Laos … or not sign it. An unsigned contract meant the school director could start advertising to fill our teaching positions, which meant we would be unemployed for the 2011-12 school year with no real prospects.
After NOT signing the contracts on Dec. 15, Tony and I promptly had a mental breakdown that segued into weeks of unpredictable fireworks of stress, second-guessing and desperation. With two mortgages and a 20-foot container worth of household goods to move from Laos, we needed to land not just any old job, but jobs with a substantial compensation package. The pressure was on.
We registered with two recruitment organizations: International Schools Services and Search Associates, which provide online databases to match schools and teachers. Many schools contact teachers via email or Skype, conduct interviews and hire for the following school year before Christmas. Most schools also attend job fairs, which take place all over the world starting in January and give teachers and recruiters the opportunity to meet face-to-face.
I checked the job postings every day, emailed schools with openings in ESL and English, cried every time I got no response (which was most of the time), and rejoiced with every automated “Thanks for your application. We’ll be in touch.” email that came back. My complete confidence that we would get hired before the job fairs slowly waned, and I reluctantly registered for both the ISS and Search fairs, scheduled to take place in Bangkok Jan. 4-12.
As we were packing for Bangkok on Jan. 3, Tony and I felt glum. Our goal was to find positions at a big, high-caliber international school with an excellent reputation. According to the databases, there were exactly TWO with jobs in our teaching fields: one in Saudi Arabia and one in Shanghai. Knowing competition for those positions would be fierce, and knowing that schools often look for hard-to-fill subject area teachers first (chemistry, math, middle school specialists, and for some reason this year – P.E.), we feared some other couple would sashay into the fair with their Chemistry-ESL or Math-English credentials and steal our jobs.
Tuesday morning, we checked in to the ISS job fair at the Shangri-La Hotel in Bangkok. On Wednesday, teachers lined up nervously in the hall outside the ballroom, where recruiters from around 175 schools sat in alphabetical order by country at tables lining the perimeter of the room. At 8 a.m. sharp, the doors opened, and we all filed in like cattle, quickly dashing to find the schools that had advertised jobs in our subject areas. Right off the bat, we discovered the Saudi school had already filled its ESL position. We sprinted to the Shanghai school, which signed us up for an interview later that day.
As we stood in line for a school in Indonesia, I wistfully glanced at the table for the American Embassy School in New Delhi, India, one of my dream schools. They had positions posted for ESL and English weeks ago but filled their English job early. The day they pulled the English job off the database was a day of many tears and hopeless resignation on my part. Imagine my surprise when I saw their job list at the sign-up session included a position for high school English! I quickly hopped out of the Indonesia line and knocked a few people out of the way to cut to the front of the AES line. Shrieking with excitement, I greeted Elementary School Principal Susan Young. She and her husband, High School Principal Tim Boyer, have stellar reputations in the international community as mindful, fair, progressive administrators. Susan took a quick peek at our CV and then summoned Tim to schedule an interview with us.
Finally, we sauntered over to chat with the folks from Shanghai American School, where we had worked for four fantastic years. “We’re here to grovel for our old jobs back,” I said to Jeff Rosen, a friend and now middle school principal. He laughed and said he didn’t have positions for us at the Pudong campus but referred us to the administrators from the Puxi campus. Alan Knoblach, the assistant superintendent for Puxi, sighed, showed us his schedule (which was packed with back-to-back interviews from 10:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m.) and said he could meet with us right after the sign-up session.
By the end of the interview sign-up session, we had registered to meet with recruiters from five schools: Shanghai AS, AES in New Delhi, Shanghai Community International School, Xiamen International School (a small school in southern China), and Saudi Aramco Schools (a huge school district created for children of the Aramco oil company in Saudi Arabia). Things were looking up, but we were certainly not ready to celebrate.
Interviews take place in the recruiters’ hotel rooms, which feels a little weird at first. Fortunately, Shangri-La rooms have a nice little lounge space with a sofa and a couple chairs.
We met with Alan from Shanghai AS first, and he asked some good questions. At the end, it was clear he really wanted a middle school ESL teacher. I know I could do it, but the fact is I really prefer to teach the little guys in elementary. We appreciated that he threw us a bone and sacrificed his short break to meet with us, and it was good practice for the rest of the day.
All of our interviews went well, and we were genuinely impressed with all the recruiters and their schools. There was nothing to rival the weird experience we had two years ago when we interviewed with a recruiter from Kuwait while his wife slept in the bed! Halfway through our interview, he woke her up so she could sleepily show us her gold jewelry (which he must have thought was a selling point for his host country).
The AES (New Delhi) recruiters interviewed Tony and me separately, and I had probably the best interview of my life with Susan Young. She started by spelling out the school’s philosophy on classroom management and conflict resolution, based on the work of William Glasser. She described a learning environment where children are encouraged to make good choices and take responsibility for their actions, and all teachers are trained how to promote this behavior. She shared anecdotes that demonstrated the school’s commitment to collaboration and caring (including an initiative by a group of fourth-graders, who researched the health benefits of having recess before lunch and succeeded in getting the school’s schedule changed to do just that!). We discussed current research on language acquisition, homework and the value of play. She described professional learning communities, in which teachers explore issues they care about and make recommendations to administration. It became clear that this was a school that didn’t just talk the talk.
Later we received a note from AES Superintendent Bob Hetzel, who said he wanted to schedule a follow-up interview. We tried to call him, but got no answer. As I stood in the Shangri-La lobby with the house phone in my hand, he stepped out of the elevator.
“I was just calling you to set up a meeting!” I said and then joked, “How about now?”
“OK, now is good,” he said. We sat at a table in the lobby and had a nice chat about AES and our professional experiences. He asked what we loved best about teaching and seemed pleased with our answers. Before parting ways, he mentioned that he was checking our references, and we set up another meeting for the next morning. Fingers crossed!
By the end of the day, we were exhausted. We barely had time to come back to our hotel, shower, rest a bit and return to Shangri-La for the cocktail party. Despite the anxiety imposed by unemployment and uncertainty, we had a great time catching up with friends and colleagues from our years in Turkey and China, and we enjoyed getting to know other teachers and hearing about their lives in various parts of the world. It’s a great opportunity to meet administrators who may not have jobs for us this year but could be good connections in the future. As we left the party, the Shanghai Community International School recruiter said, “Check your mailbox downstairs. I left something for you.”
A contract! We were so thrilled and relieved to know we had jobs at a great school for next year. However, my heart was set on AES, and we decided to wait until after our follow-up meeting with them in the morning before committing to anything.
So, this morning we put on our dress-up clothes and trekked back to Shangri-La, where we ran into the AES administrators in the hallway an hour before our scheduled meeting.
“We’ll just wait for you in the lobby,” I said.
“Or we could just meet now,” said Superintendent Bob Hetzel. So once again, we had an impromptu meeting at some nearby sofas.
“We want you to come to AES,” said Bob, handing us a letter of intent and some other paperwork.
Tony and I both clapped and said, “Yay!” which led Bob, Susan and Tim to respond with claps and cheers of their own. Such an affirming moment! Asked if we had any questions, Tony and I were both a little too giddy to think straight. We said we would read over the paperwork and come back to attend their promotional presentation in the afternoon. We took the elevator to the rooms of the Shanghai AS and Shanghai ICS recruiters to thank them and tell them we had accepted the AES offer. We had already said thanks-but-no-thanks to XIS and received a thanks-but-no-thanks note from Saudi Aramco.
And now Tony’s at the pool and I’m writing and reliving this crazy experience.
Here we are with our new employers. From left, High School Principal Tim Boyer, Elementary School Principal Susan Young, me, Director Robert Hetzel, Tony, Middle School Principal Barbara Sirotin.
The only bad news they gave us was the starting date for new teachers: July 26. Ugh, it’s going to be a short summer.
Of course, I’m ecstatic about the travel opportunities in India, too, and can hardly wait to get started. I can’t stop watching the Incredible India commercials, such as this one:
Time to go join Tony at the pool and relax for the first time in months!
I always hate the last night of a vacation. I’m not one of those people who says, “Well, it’s been fun, but I’m ready to get home!” However, last night was our last night in Phuket, and it was dreamy.
Tony and I spent the evening at Mom Tri’s Boathouse, a gorgeous resort on Kata Beach. We arrived in time to enjoy both Happy Hour and the sunset – two more of my favorite things!
After watching the sky turn from blue to pink to black (while I nursed a chili-and-ginger-infused Siam Sunray and Tony enjoyed a cold Heineken), we moved from the lounge to our table on the beachside deck. Our appetizer of scallops layered with a thin crispy crepe was scrumptious; the bread basket was full of flavorful sticks, chips and rolls; and even the butter tasted better than usual. I devoured the grilled king prawns topped with crushed garlic, while Tony gobbled up a pork chop. Ice cream, mango and sticky rice with coconut milk for dessert. Yum!
Every hour is Happy Hour when you’ve got your sweetie, a cocktail and a seaside sunset.
This week in Phuket, the weather has been a bit indecisive. A few minutes of rain, a few hours of sunshine. A few hours of rain, a few minutes of sunshine. Only Wednesday brought torrential rains, and lucky for us, we missed most of it. You don’t notice the weather when you’re 20 meters under the sea. Scuba day!
The hourlong boat ride to the dive site was wetter and cooler than usual, but at least we didn’t have to worry about sunburn, right?
We did two dives at Koh Racha Yai with our guide, Khob. While the weather on land was gray and dreary, the underwater scenery was breathtaking. Tony and I couldn’t believe how many different types of fish we saw.
Some highlights:
* A school of juvenile barracuda surrounded us before swimming away.
* Several moray eels poked their big heads out of the coral and flashed their creepy grins.
* An old wreck created a colorful hangout for all sorts of creatures.
* A big cuttlefish undulated next to us for a few minutes like a sheet flapping in the breeze.
* Feathery-looking brown-and-white striped lionfish lounged in the coral.
* Two small blue-spotted rays drifted on the sandy bottom.
* Clownfish and other small colorful fish darted in and out of the waving anemone.
Actually, as I started to write some highlights I realized that the whole experience was one big highlight after another! It’s hard to pick out the best parts. I also need to take a course in identifying marine life. In the meantime, I like checking out the Fish/Coral Information page on the Thailand Divers website.
Maybe it’s my mom’s influence; she really is a home-decorating guru. But I am a sucker for the small touches that make a space particularly special. This week, we’re staying at Sawasdee Village Resort in Phuket, Thailand. Normally this place would be way out of our price range, but (a) it’s the off-season, and (b) we paid for it with air miles.
What a treat!
Phuket (pronounced “Poo-ket”) is an island, connected to the rest of Thailand by a bridge.
When we vacationed here five years ago, it was recuperating from the devastating tsunami of 2004. Today we hardly recognize it. Towering resorts have burst out of the beaches, and the formerly quiet streets are now bustling with bars, restaurants, shops, massage salons, and other tourist attractions. We’re staying at one of the less lively beaches, but it’s still much more developed than we remembered. We’re lucky to have the best of both worlds: We can entertain ourselves on the “strip,” but then we can step into our private oasis.
Meandering on the stone paths through the hotel grounds, we often stop and listen to the peaceful Thai music piped in to the gardens, accented by the chorus of fountains, frogs and birds. Narrow canals filled with koi fish and water lilies weave alongside the paths. Plants with leaves broader than my armspan and trees dripping with fruit and flowers create the illusion of being far out of town. Nearly hidden in the foliage, traditional statuary, small lamps and carved wooden benches add to the delight. Occasionally, we stumble upon a woman carved in stone with a real orchid tucked behind one ear or an elephant statue draped with a colorful silk sash.
Let’s talk about the pool. There’s so much to appreciate. First, the whole pool is shallow. That means you can walk the length of it, which is nice, but it also discourages children and drunken men from annoying the rest of us with loud “Cannonball!”-style maneuvers. One end of the pool features less than a foot of water with gentle bubble jets on the bottom, so you can actually recline and get a little water massage on your back. A fountain rains across the width of the pool, creating a natural sense of privacy at either end. The pool bar is recessed, so you can stand waist-deep or sit on the stools with your feet in the water while sipping a frosty tropical treat out of a pineapple. Elephant fountains line the far end of the pool, emitting arching streams of water, while a massive overturned jar at the center creates a refreshing waterfall. The pool curves into romantic nooks with recessed spots for lounging in the shade of the frangiapani trees.
For a different style of water fun, the beach is a 15-minute walk away (or a short ride on the hotel’s free shuttle bus). Powdery pale sand and the warm turquoise sea: possibly my favorite combination on earth. There is little competition for the lounge chairs and umbrellas at this time of year, and although some rain falls each day, we still have hours of sunny perfect weather to enjoy seaside relaxation.
At the moment, I’m sitting in the guest lounge, a glass-enclosed pagoda with tile floors, intricate carved woodwork, elegant Thai ornamentation and relaxing views of the hotel grounds. A drizzly morning is the perfect time to reflect on how lucky we are to experience this elegance and tranquility.
When we first moved abroad in 2001, I prepared for my new expat life with a book-buying frenzy. I raided used book stores and garage sales, and I discovered the U.S. Postal Service’s M Bags, a cost-efficient way of sending hundreds of books to our new home in Istanbul. (I don’t know if M Bags still exist, but I was thankful at the time.)
After four years, we moved to China, and our shipment included some books from that original shopping spree, as well as many new additions purchased during our summers in the States. For awhile, I had an amazon.com credit card that rewarded me with free shipping and store credit, further fueling my book acquisition habit (and leading to many late-night online impulse purchases).
The e-reader is the perfect gadget for someone like me who travels so much and moves to a new country every few years. How many times have we hit the road with a suitcase half full of novels (and then paid for overweight baggage)? How many times did I pack several extra books because I wasn’t sure what I’d be in the mood to read? How many times did I leave a book in the airport/plane/hotel and then have to buy another copy? Yet … would I be content to read books on a screen? I didn’t think so. And that’s why our shipment to Laos last year was, again, heavy with books (including, I’m embarrassed to admit, a few jetsetters from the Istanbul M Bag collection).
This summer, I gave e-readers some more thought. I sought advice on facebook. I searched the blogosphere for reviews. I agonized over the decision. Then amazon dropped the price of the Kindle, and it seemed like a sign from God.
When my new toy came in the mail, I immediately added my first novel – The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo – and read it straight through. I never ever missed holding a real book. In fact, I never noticed I WASN’T holding a real book. I was hooked! I soon discovered that amazon’s one-click purchase option for Kindle books was easily as addictive as browsing in a real bookstore. It worked like this: (a) make a list of book recommendations from friends, (b) look up one of the books on amazon.com, (c) read the plot synopsis and reviews, (d) click “purchase,” (e) look up the next book on the list, (f) repeat steps c-f ad infinitum.
On our trip back to Laos, I read voraciously. I even bought a few more books while sitting in the Chicago airport. And then disaster struck. About half-way through our grueling flight from Chicago to Tokyo and half-way through the fantasy/bodice-ripper Outlander, I clicked “next page” on my Kindle and the screen did this:
I restarted the device about 20 times and then nearly burst into tears at the idea of six more hours on the plane with no video-on-demand and nothing to read except United Airlines’ Hemispheres magazine. Once we arrived in Tokyo, I found free wifi and synced my MacBook with my Kindle account so I could continue reading Outlander on my computer screen. Not nearly as pleasant, but better than nothing for the flight to Bangkok.
Back in Vientiane, I crankily wrote an email to amazon.com. In a show of unparalleled customer service, amazon actually asked for MY phone number, and THEY called ME seconds later. No waiting on hold for 30 minutes! The representative asked a few questions, agreed with my diagnosis of a defective screen, and then promised to send a new Kindle ASAP. Hooray!
So the story has a happy ending. Despite my first Kindle’s sad demise, I don’t regret taking the e-reader plunge, and I look forward to a long and blissful relationship with my new one. Tony looks forward to lighter luggage.
As a travel planner, I have really slacked off this year. Usually I start thinking about potential trips way ahead of time, track down the cheapest flights, read scads of hotel reviews, act on tips from friends, and otherwise ensure a most awesome adventure for Tony and me. Since moving to Vientiane, I have felt too busy/tired/confused/broke to put much effort in to travel planning.
As our April break was approaching, we heard this mantra again and again: Get the hell out of Laos! The Pii Mai holiday (Lao New Year) has many beautiful and spiritual traditions, so I hated to miss it. However, the practice of dousing everyone with water sounded annoying enough to send us both into an emotional tailspin. Apparently, the lovely water blessing has deteriorated into a full-blown citywide water fight, complete with buckets, water cannons, water balloons and other paraphernalia. The rate of vehicular accidents also skyrockets during this week, which seems predictable when (a) most vehicles on the road are motorbikes, and (b) it’s not easy to get your bike back under control after taking a bucket of water in the face.
Thailand was celebrating the same festival (they call it Songkran), and the “Red Shirts” were building momentum with their civil disobedience, so I ruled out a Thai beach vacation. In fact, I ruled out all flights routed through Bangkok, not out of fear but out of awareness that if my holiday were cut short by demonstrations at the airport, I would be truly pissed.
After many inner confrontations between Pragmatic Me (who argues we should be pinching every penny to pay for our Michigan lakehouse renovations) and Spoiled Me (who insists we DESERVE a bit of pampering because we work SO hard!) – I decided to book a trip to Bali. (Pragmatic Me never had a chance…) Feeling the usual spring burnout common among teachers, I chose to check in to a hotel and stay there. No exhaustive bopping around the island. A few quick internet searches and – bam! – we had tickets and a hotel. Here’s how it played out.
Saturday – On the Road Again
Flew to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, and spent the night at a hotel close to the airport. Air Asia had changed our flights at the last minute, necessitating an overnight en route to Bali. Doh!
Sunday – Scoping Out the ‘Hood
Arrived at our stunning oasis, Rumah Bali Bed and Breakfast, near Nusa Dua on the southeast coast. The hotel is part of a little empire launched by a Swiss entrepreneur and his Balinese wife. To illustrate my previous point that I hadn’t done much research for this trip, I chose Rumah Bali based only on a few reviews that raved about the breakfast. We were happy to find that everything about Rumah Bali – including the breakfast – was perfect.
Here are some shots from the hotel grounds.
That’s our bungalow behind Tony. We had the whole top floor. Loved it!
Just across the street, high-end swanky hotels lined the beach overlooking the Lombok Strait. We walked through the lobby of the Peninsula Hotel to get to the Tanjung Benoa beach. It was pretty disappointing. There was lots of flotsam and jetsam floating on the surface of the very shallow water, and the sand was coarse and full of sea debris. Walking along a path that links the hoity-toity resorts, we thanked our lucky stars that we hadn’t shelled out the big bucks to stay at one of them. We happily crossed back to our idyllic bungalow and hopped in the pool.
For lunch, we wandered down an alley and found a little “warung,” a hole-in-the-wall café that served up simple Balinese food and catered to the locals. Tony’s meal looked like a chicken had been attacked with a weed whacker, but he said it was tasty, and he’s quite adept at removing all bits of meat from the bones. My “nasi goreng” (spicy fried rice with chicken) and stir-fried garlicky veggies were so delicious that I opted for warung food over restaurant fare most days.
Back at Rumah Bali, we wandered around the grounds. One large area is set up as a traditional Balinese market restaurant – Pasar Malam – with several small thatched-roof pavilions filled with heavy teakwood tables and chairs. On this day, workers were setting up an extensive sound system, which didn’t bode well. As we discovered later, some company was holding a special event at this venue and would blast dance tunes till nearly midnight. Tossing and turning in bed that night, I couldn’t help but admire their playlist – it could’ve come straight off my iPod. Fortunately, this was the only party during our stay.
Monday – Breakfast and Beaches
Early to bed, early to rise. We had breakfast delivered to our balcony around 7 a.m., and it was spectacular! Delicious French-pressed coffee, pastries still warm from the oven, fried eggs and crispy bacon, freshly squeezed mango juice, and a gorgeous collection of fruit. The fruit bowl included the standard melon and banana, but also starfruit, jackfruit, lychee and two mystery fruits that I’d never had before. One had thick hard yellow skin and a grey gelatinous middle with little seeds. It tasted sugary sweet, but the texture was reminiscent of a raw oyster and triggered my gag reflex. The other newbie to my fruit repertoire had a brown leathery skin. The flesh was white-ish and hard with a marble-sized smooth pit. It tasted like a dry sweet pear. Thumbs down on Mystery Fruit #1, which I have since identified as marquisa passion fruit and learned it is usually enjoyed in juice form. Thumbs up on Mystery Fruit #2, which I discovered is aptly named snakeskin fruit.
Breakfast on the balcony.
Today we rented a motorbike with big plans to explore the area. We rode to Nusa Dua, another string of ritzy beachfront resorts nestled in a perfectly manicured neighborhood. We walked along the flagstone path and checked out all the decadent hotels, where not a grain of sand was out of place. We even saw workers raking and burying seagrass that had washed up on the shore. (I freely admit that my criticism may be slightly tinged with jealousy.) At the end of the path, we encountered a woven bamboo wall, so we walked around it and discovered the “real” beach – just sand, water and locals selling snacks. As much as I wanted to swim in the sea, I was discouraged by the posters warning of sea urchins, the lack of waves, and the omnipresent junk bobbing on the water. Again, we zipped back to Rumah Bali and jumped in the pool. We definitely didn’t get our money’s worth out of the motorbike!
Nusa Dua beach.
Tuesday – Bathroom Meditations
We had planned to go scuba diving, but I woke up with a bad case of Bali belly, so we postponed our scuba outing. I spent the whole day in the room, only occasionally venturing to the balcony for a few minutes at a time. I couldn’t even muster the strength to take a dip in the pool. Tony tried to get to Kuta, the backpacker Mecca of Bali, but he ended up back at Nusa Dua at a shopping area called Bali Collection. I don’t really know what else he did; I was too sick to care. About the only thing that made me happy today was the fact that our bungalow did not have an open-air outdoor bathroom like some of the others.
Wednesday – Tonny Cooks up a Storm
Another morning of feeling icky! My tummy was fine, but I felt like I had a mild flu or a bad cold. I had enough energy to lounge by the pool and wander around Rumah Bali a bit; mostly I watched TV and read Vanity Fair. I kept trying to convince myself that my body was crying out for rest, but I’m not very good at resting. Tony joked that my illnesses were slowing me down just enough to be at his pace. Ha, ha.
Tony spent the day at the Bumbu Bali cooking school (where they gave him a nametag labeled “Tonny”). It took place in a kitchen in the hotel’s Pasar Malam area. Heinz von Holzen, a reknowned chef, cookbook author, and founder of the Bumbu Bali restaurant, was the teacher. I dragged myself down to the kitchen to shoot a few pictures.
The cooking class kitchen.
Tony mixes the meat and spices. Oh, wait, that’s not Tony.
There he is with his lovely satay on a stick of lemongrass. He learned how to pinch the satay to make it look like a temple, which keeps it from falling apart on the grill.
A few more shots from cooking class.
Thursday – Lice and Crabs Waterworld, a local scuba outfit, picked us up at 8 a.m. and took us to the beach. We joined a British guy, Colin, and his 14-year-old son, Jack. Still feeling stuffy, I opted to snorkel in lieu of diving. After the three guys were fitted for wetsuits and equipment, we boarded a small boat for the hour-long ride to Nusa Penida Island in the Lombok Strait. Just offshore, the boys climbed into their gear and dropped backwards off the boat with the divemaster.
I had my own snorkeling guide, so we jumped in and took off. At first I was disappointed not to be diving, but I was soon distracted by all the colorful sea life so close to the surface. In fact, the scenery tricked my body into thinking I really WAS diving. Occasionally my snorkel would fill with water and after trying to blow it out, I automatically reached for my regulator. Of course, I didn’t have a regulator, so I quickly snapped back to reality and rolled my head to the side to suck in some air. I floated over all shapes, sizes and colors of coral teeming with little fish. Huge brightly colored and even striped starfish clung to the coral. I only saw one big fish (maybe a yard/meter long), and it was just chillin’ on the sandy floor surrounded by a swirl of smaller fishy admirers. The highlight was a sea turtle that popped out from under some coral and swam away.
Back on the boat, Tony and Colin consulted their dive tables and realized that the divemaster had kept them underwater too long. The divemaster told them, “No problem!” but the guys insisted on keeping the second dive short. Colin was particularly peeved as he was trying to teach safe diving habits to his son.
During the break, I noticed tiny blue bits all over Tony’s neck. I picked one off and said, “I think these are bugs.” He looked at it and said it was just lint from the wet suit. With a blue bit on the end of my finger, I stretched out my arm and brought it back in, trying to find the perfect spot where my aging eyes could focus on it. Finally, I held it out to young Jack. “What do you think it is?” I asked. He concurred with Tony. The more I examined the blue bits, the more I swore I saw little legs. Finally, I held out my finger to the divemaster. “Do you know what this is?” I asked.
“Oh, yes! It is a …” Grasping for the English word, he said, “It’s like …” and then he scratched his head with exaggerated urgency.
“Lice?” I said.
“Yes! Sea lice!” he said with obvious relief.
So there’s no end to my amusement as I tell everyone that Tony picked up lice at the bottom of the sea.
Heading back to shore, I spotted a tiny crab in the bottom of the boat. I was afraid someone would step on him, so I tried to scoop him up with a dive mask, but he kept escaping. He scurried back and forth across my foot for much of the ride, prompting Tony to guffaw, “I may have picked up lice, but you got crabs!” Hardy har har.
When we got back to the diveshop, we were given some cold egg sandwiches and the news that their credit card machine was broken. The lady said, “The machine no work, so you give us money.” I had to laugh! Oh, right, it just so happens I have $200 in my bikini bottoms! I had told them upfront that we were paying with a credit card. They had a little freak, but Balinese people are so polite that it didn’t get nasty. Ultimately, our wonderful hotel added the scuba charges to our bill and then reimbursed the dive company.
Friday – A Taste of Ubud
For years I had heard about Ubud, the center of Balinese arts and culture, nestled in the rice terraces of the mountains. Elizabeth Gilbert wrote about this town in Eat, Pray, Love. My parents visited in the 90s and did their part to keep the local artisans in business. Many friends have traveled to Ubud and come home with wonderful stories. But did I listen to them? Nooooo. I listened to the ONE friend who said, “Ubud used to be so fantastic, but now it’s overrun with tourists. I would skip it if I were you.”
We didn’t skip it altogether, but we made it a day trip. One of the Rumah Bali workers hooked us up with his friend, a driver, who took us to see the rice terraces and then dropped us in Ubud for about 4 hours. We felt like the Griswolds at the Grand Canyon: “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. OK, what’s next.” We didn’t have time to linger and fully appreciate it.
We jumped out of the car for a short visit to some rice terraces.
Ubud, it turns out, is STILL fantastic! We wandered the shady back alleys, browsed in unique artsy shops, poked around the market, stopped for a quick lunch, and kicked ourselves for not spending more time here. Despite the throngs of tourists, the town seems to have maintained its roots in spirituality and culture. I picked up a little guide to Ubud at the tourism office, which only fueled my regret. There’s so much going on in this town: dance performances, yoga, art exhibits, cultural workshops, live music, and so much more!
At a temple outside the local market, people were leaving little packets of offerings and incense.
The market was a jumble of jewelry, clothing, home decor, handicrafts, sundries and fresh produce. This was a basket shop.
Cool art was tucked in every corner of Ubud. This was the view out the window at our lunch spot.
Our lazy week at Rumah Bali was dreamy, but I left Bali craving a dose of Ubud. I’ll be back!
Friday night, we treated ourselves with dinner at Bumbu Bali, the restaurant started by Tony’s cooking teacher. Designed to feel like a Balinese home, the restaurant is really a collection of open-air rooms. The entrance is right next to the kitchen, so when we walked in, all the cooks shouted out, “Hello! Welcome!” The hostess stuck a frangiapani flower behind our ears and walked us to our table. Flowers dangled from the thatch ceilings, and water flowed in little rivulets through the restaurant. A Balinese band sat on the floor and played soothing tunes while young girls performed traditional dances. We ordered a sampler menu with heaps of appetizers, delicious main courses and sweet gooey desserts.
This is Nefi, who also worked at the cooking school and remembered “Mr. Tonny.”
Loving the atmosphere (and prawn chips with spicy chili sauce).
Dee-lish!
A cook fans the coals with a bamboo mat.
Bad photo, but cool rice steamers.
More shots from the restaurant.
Saturday – Home Again, Eventually
Stupid Air Asia and its stupid flight schedule. We left Rumah Bali at 3:45 a.m. for our flight to Kuala Lumpur, where we then sat for six hours until our flight to Vientiane.
Parting Thoughts
Travelers to Southeast Asia seem to fall in to two camps: (A) Love Thailand/hate Bali. (B) Love Bali/hate Thailand. When we tried to decide which group to join, we realized there were things we loved and hated about both places. Actually, we don’t really hate anything about either place … except maybe the traffic. Keeping in mind that we have visited Thailand more times than I can count and Bali only once, we agreed that:
• Thailand has nicer beaches.
• Bali seems less jaded by the influx of tourism. However, we never visited Kuta, which might have skewed the results.
• The people in both places are absolutely lovely and gracious.
• The food in both places is spectacular. (I prefer Thai food by a slim margin. Tony prefers Balinese, but I think he’s just feeling very informed about Balinese cuisine after his awesome cooking class.)
• We need to do more research! So it seems more visits to Thailand and Bali are in order.
