Two down, two more to go. Then Facebook albums uploaded, and I'm done for a while, as it's past time to focus on work.
Appropriate song lyrics: “Let the stories be told, let them say what they want...
let the good times roll…”
One of the more popular activities for tourists in Bali is the trek up Mt. Batur, a volcano that while not currently active, cannot be called extinct any more than any other in Indonesia. Calling a volcano extinct in this part of the world is like calling your neighbor's mean dog harmless...you hope your words will simply make it so. Not!
I revealed my inexperience when I asked "what time will we meet up to ride to the trail head?" I had been told we needed to leave at 2:30, and assumed that meant 2:30 in the afternoon. No such luck. The trek begins between 2:30 or 3:00 each morning, as teams of trekkers try to reach the top of the volcano before sunrise, since the beauty of the sunrise over Mt. Batur is quite beyond description; it can only be photographed and shared.
I carried a laptop bag (the smallest piece of luggage I had) containing two huge bottles of water, and decided to leave one behind in the jeep to save weight. In the darkness at its base, the mountain only cast a black shadow against the stars. As my friends and I set out with our guide, it revealed nothing of the sharpness of its rocks, or the steepness of its rise. We were also accompanied by a drink seller, a young man whose main source of income is to accompany groups of tourists to the top of the mountain and sell beverages to them once they have reached the summit.
Special to Men Over 35
Do not attempt the trek up Mt. Batur under any circumstances unless you have met the following conditions...
- A complete cardiac exam with an EKG and stress test on a treadmill within the past 3 months, all results normal or better
- No medical history of angina, asthma, hypertension (that’s me) or any other pulmonary or cardiac anomaly whatsoever, even if controlled with medication...your medication controls it on flat land when you are not climbing the face of a volcano
- Regular strenuous exercise as part of a normal fitness routine that has included intensive cardio and weight training, at least three times per week, for longer than one year
- An understanding of the fact that your "normal range" EKG results from two years ago do NOT mean that your body is prepared for this activity
Halfway up Mt. Batur, I realized that I was experiencing dizziness and slight chest pain…probably from the high elevation. My pulse had quickened to an alarming rate, and I determined that I could not continue. Our guide would have none of that, saying "We go up together, we go down together. No one is Left Behind!" Obviously, he didn't get the memo about the Javanese meaning for my name. (Ke-ri in Javanese means the One Who is Left Behind.)
Having already agreed to carry my bag, our guide asked a favor from drink-selling guy. And he called in a pretty big one, too, since the next thing I knew, the drink-seller took my hand in his, so that he could lead me and assist me the rest of the way up the mountain. Our guide was afraid I’d pass out and hit my head on a rock.
At this point, all I could do was apologize to the others. Saying that I was “fine” to climb a volcano when I strongly suspected that I wouldn’t be in shape to do it was the stupidest thing I’ve done in a long time, and could have cost me a lot more than embarrassment.
I wouldn’t say that I was completely humiliated by having another man hold my hand to assist me up the side of the mountain. I think it’s most accurate to say that I was comprehensively humiliated. And it was 100 per cent my own fault. I got taken to school big time by this mountain, and thought my stamina wouldn’t be an issue, since I walk everywhere I go in tropical heat. But I go at my own pace. The trek had a pace all its own. The three young women in our party kept up just fine, but as the lone dude, I quite literally needed my hand held.
Mark, Jonthon, Paul, Michael, if you read this, lemme just say that while I missed you guys on the trip to Bali, male colleagues witnessing my getting taken to school by Mt. Batur would have been just the thing to complete my comprehensive humiliation. (Great new concept :)
Give me this much, though…how many men would actually post this story and tell the whole damn truth about the hand-holding?
We took frequent breaks for me to rest—about every 30 feet. We knew we’d miss the sunrise, but somehow, some way, we didn’t!
We reached the summit only a few moments behind most of the others. Even in the tropics, the air at dawn was freezing atop Mt. Batur. Inside a small wooden hut, a wonderful fire was going, built by the members of the drink-selling concession, who had coffee, tea, and a mug of hot chocolate that helped bring me back to life. After I drank it, I bought a coke from the drink-seller who held my hand - I paid him 100,000 rupiah - about 12 bucks. He had earned that much and then some.
Another guy said not to be embarrassed, since he needed to be helped up the mountain, too. He appeared to be at least 60. Dude, shut up, already!
On the way down, another guide revealed himself to be a 19-year-old kid who knows the names of all 50 U.S. states and their capitals.
Low-grade fever kept me in my room most of the following day, but with the help of some Tylenol and a brisk walk in the evening to sweat it out, it finally broke. I felt much better, and enjoyed a really great dinner with my friends.
My plane wouldn't leave until noon the next day, so I went out later instead of going to bed. At the only open bar on our street, I spent the rest of my time on Bali hangin' out with a retired BBC reporter (British) and an Australian who had moved to the island recently. Male-only conversation and absolutely none of it blog-able. And right about then, that was just fine.
As a newcomer to Bali, who might be planning to remain on the island for a month, a year, or longer, where could you go to find out about the island, learn its culture, locate activities for your children, take language lessons in 
Indonesian, Balinese, or English (the three main languages spoken on the island), read a vertical file about NGO projects that have been completed by grant recipients, check out novels to read, take a dance class, watch a play being performed, and about a hundred other educational activities? Duh...at the public library, of course!
Worldwide, public libraries are where it's at, folks! True in Ubud, true in Tuscaloosa. Bali's non-profit, membership library is called Pondok Pekak Library and Learning Centre, and it represents a non-computerized version of many of the things I hope for in Tuscaloosa...like generous meeting space for programming, and a great location next to the city's main soccer field. Its promotional literature says that Pondok Pekak means "grandfather's little resting house in the rice field."
If you are a professional librarian who works in community outreach (umm....that'd be you, Jana) please find this institution by messaging librarypondok@yahoo.com.
Other totally awesome literacy activities in Bali...
www.ubudwritersfestival.com
Having great meeting space and language lessons on site, the library does lack computerized OPAC systems for circulation, but still needs to keep people from taking out books and never returning them. In Indonesia, that means an appeal to any concerns people might have regarding their eternal destiny...
Elizabeth, you might want Jerry to try this; it actually seems to be effective.The sign that's too blurry reads, "Stealing books will result in bad karma. Protect your next life."
There are also examples in Bali of persons who are not willing to keep it low key and are far too aggressive in chasing after Western tourist dollars. On our return trip from the excursion to Mt. Batur, our guide asked whether or not we might be too tired to see the rice farming community where he grew up, including the well-known Rice Terraces of Ubud. They have a brilliant green beauty that has been photographed by many professional photographers down through the years, and captured far more effectively than I could ever capture it. In the pictures below, you will understand why, but not before I explain how psycho some souvenir peddlers can be....
This guy was smiling, as he agreed to allow his picture to be taken. 
But I couldn't buy one carved statue from him while stopped at the rice terraces to take pictures, I had to buy two. But I only wanted one. Once settled, I thought, we'd shake on it and make an exchange. I guess I'm just a rube from Alabama, because my willingness to buy did not complete the transaction, but signaled him to call his friends over to sell their items, as well. One lady would not stop, and had an kind of spinning, other-worldly delusional affect deep in her eyes that was quite scary. I couldn't buy the tablecloth to escape, I had to take the carved box, too, "because I have no money, sir, because I have no money." Think about the last time you told someone a story and used the phrase "she just kept on." Then, multiply times ten. The guide told the others in our party when he saw the crowd gathered around me, "that guy is in trouble, I think you need to go down there." Uh-oh.
As it turned out, I did escape, so that we could photograph the rice terraces. She did not assault me, place a curse on me, turn me into a monkey, or perform any other additional hostile acts - real or esoteric. Well, as far as I know...
Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Work is piling up, but all I can think about is how far out of real time my blog has slipped, since I need to do four posts about Bali and one about a trip to the shore on a tour bus the department took last week. When I have those up, the rest is going into photo albums on Facebook, and I will depend on others to write editorial comments. Time to get movin' on this...
Ubud may have its share of market stalls loaded with cheap souvenirs, but it also has many truly talented people who often search for and do not find an effective way to market their talents. In the USA, artists may have promoters who show a portfolio of their work to interested buyers, but here, an artist's portfolio is quite literally strapped to his or her back. These two guys were not aggressive about making a sale, and were willing to keep it low key and just talk to me, so I bought a small canvass from each of them on my way out to the airport. 
I also appreciated their willingness to be photographed, since my pictures are often long on scenery, short on humans. I wish I'd scanned their work for posting; they're both pretty good.
Outside every home or shop in Bali, Hindu offerings are placed at the beginning of each day. They normally consist of a small straw mat or basket containing cut flowers, sweets, and topped off with a stick of incense that burns for several hours.
These seem to function as a daily reassurance that all will be well, in a world where so many things can go wrong.
Art for sale or performed...everywhere!
Four days was all I dared spend in Bali. Students would be back from the Lebaran holiday the following week, no planning was done, and my conservative hosts thought the whole idea of somebody actually going to Bali on purpose was just hilarious. I don't regret going at all, since most of my time there was spent with my new friends and colleagues, but a little background might be in order...
Bali is the exception to many of Indonesia's rules. It is a predominantly Hindu island in the middle of this Muslim archipelago, and has a well-deserved reputation for Hindus allowing Western visitors to do many things that would simply not be permitted to happen in Muslim communities. Use your imagination, or Google "Bali" without a filter, and you'll understand quickly :) I found myself thinking a lot about how other visitors from Alabama might react to Balinese culture, and learned from a tour guide that this isn't a matter for pure speculation. He called out the names of several Alabamians who had passed through his village, including a group from Birmingham.
I didn't have any of the theological concerns about demonic activity that might cause other Bible Belt Americans fear or discomfort around the temples and images. But the vibe I kept getting, while not evil, felt like "other than," which is a step beyond simply being unfamiliar.
Truth: Balinese Hindus are fine human beings, and their humanity manifests itself in every way that people in Alabama expect from their own families, friends, and neighbors.
Simultaneous Truth: If you tell me that a mountain is sacred, then tell me that animals are sacrificed to it by pushing them over the rim into its volcanic crater, as your faith calls for blood sacrifice, I will unavoidably feel the need to conclude that while you will reach the One who created us both by way of the same path I will, you are looking down a path I couldn't have walked in a million years. Literally. But more later on my own religious minority status back home - much later :)
Bali...not a Muslim sort of place...
I didn't see much of the island's beautiful beaches, but instead spent my four days with my friends in Ubud, a popular destination for art-lovers worldwide. There are carpenters, painters, stone carvers, musicians, and others with galleries, stalls, and workshops lining both sides of every street in Ubud, and the roads leading out of town, too. Ubud is recognized as Bali's cultural capital, and while I didn't learn as much about Balinese culture and language as I would like to, I wouldn't have missed it and I'll probably go back... Balinese architecture follows a basic theme of orange, earthen brick trimmed in grayish, carved stonework.
Some examples....
One feature of Balinese culture not to be missed is the kecak dance, performed in temples for worshipers and outdoors for the tourists...
And...ahem, for the record, ladies, I do disagree with the rules for temple visiting concerning those five or so special days each month set forth here, but as a non-Hindu, I don't get a vote :(
Kecak promotional materials reminded us how much English teachers are needed...
Kecak clip...
Two down, two more to go. Then Facebook albums uploaded, and I'm done for a while, as it's past time to focus on work.
