He took us to Eco - dive where we once again happily mounted our scooters and (especially Becca) felt the surge of power that comes with being in control of one's OWN movement around a country - ne'er to run over a kitten whilst we were at the helm.
We went from one end of the island to the other eventually picking up a man on his own motorcycle of sorts with many tattoos who led me off in one direction to find a hotel.. while Becca understood we were going to wait for her somewhere else. It left me to my newest of Indonesian boyfriends... whose affections were posed in the repitition of the phrase "I sorry my english is no good, I'm very stupid" - so one would be obliged to reply " NONO this isn'tthe case your English is great, you're not stupid"... to loving batting tattooed eyelids....And so I was coerced. Eventually blonde damsel that she is, Becca picked up a man with a nearly fully unbuttoned button up shirt - looking a lot like a pimp - in the opposite direction who talked his friend into giving us a pretty amazing deal on a cabin at the top of a hill.
We piled in and paid the fee. My new boyfriend meanwhile stationed himself on the front porch and insisted he would wait.. I told him he would most certainly not do that and was forced to promise that I would come meet him and his friends shortly for dinner.
Becca passed out, poor thing, from the awfulness of our day and I went and fufilled my obligations by sitting down with my tattoo artist 'boyfriend' and all his friends who were quite lovely. One of which spoke near perfect English and played a pretty good guitar as well - we talked music - obviously - and I warmed up on the inside with the ginger tea and candlelight. Trying as hard as I could not to return my boyfriends penetrating stare and focus on the meal at hand - A grilled chicken with Balsamic Vinegrette and some rice... thankfully.
Once satiated I promised the boys we would come to their party tomorrow if we didnt need to take off before then and went home to my sleeping Becca..... only to be awoken by the start of the rainy season a day before the full moon.. rain wakes you up in Bali... and it sounds more like some sort of natural warfare.
We woke up the following morning to rain soaked streets and rainy skies. Becca rolled out of bed to discover her money missing from our Mataram mulleted maverick (Yeah I lluuuuh the illiteration), leading to my feeble attempts to cheer her up . We agreed to go stay in Tirta Gagna, right outside of Ahmed and attend the party in the afternoon. We had limited funds upon realizing that half the 100 dollars she had taken out the night before was missing and decided to keep everything as free as possible. We drove over the mountain and checked into a cheap hotel accross from the water palace (thankfully one of the only things that I think was actually capable of lifting poor Becca' spirits). And piled onto one scooter to check out this Balinese party. I felt pretty chuffed to be honest to have a leggy blonde hangin off the back of my scooter, after all it IS the American dream.... If only I had thought to cuff my t shirt sleeves and gel my hair I'da been James dean in a poncho.
Now going into this party we thought... wellll I hope we're not crashing this big traditional hoo ha, imagining Balinese women scrutinizing us and greeting us through gritted teeth. We collectively agreed upon appropriate comportment and attire, assuming this was a very closed event/ affair. The premised of the celebration as it had been explained to me was that someone had just built a new house and with good luck they were christening the new place on the night of the full moon - which is a very fortunate set of coninciding timing.
What we found was about twenty or so VERY drunk Balinese men, all of them well into the party, and not a single female in site... we were the only westerners, the only women, and definitely the entertainment.
Becca was immediately siezed upon by one particularly old and grabby gentleman who seemed to lack an understanding of the old english directive "hands to yourself please". I was immediately defensive telling them not to touch her and being pulled off in several directions by different people telling me to calm down and not to worry. However, I had let this poor girl get robbed once already and now had dragged her to a party of what turned uot to be WASTED police officers.. I hate cops.. I hate people touching my friends without consent .. I was peeved. People were definitely speaking words to me but I was focused as this man slapped her thighs and tried to interfere every time he wuold insist she drink shots of 'Arak' - a local rice wine. BEcca kept assuring me she was fine but I was fully alarmed as my boyfriend kept trying to say things to me... which I fully ignored until someone else would pull me off to tell me something else. We were having strange food on plates handed to us in baskets and cakes wrapped in plastic forced into our hands. At one point I was give somethign cold and gelatinous and I tried a small piece trying to make a face of gratitude through the disgust - 'Oh its just pickled suckling pig'.. 'Oh no clearly because ofcourse it is...'
I was finally made at ease when the old man reached the point of drunk that he had to be dragged off still screamin things back at Becca... and all eyes were somehow on me... The Balinese men like a curvy woman and they kept trying to get me join in traditional dances.. that were not exactly 'join on in' kinda dancing (note the fanny pack of mine that makes an appearance here and Becca sweet voice at the end)
I met the man of the house Joni and all his brothers and cousins, and neighbors and old bosses. Meanwhile I was having metaphors about spanish guitars and spicy chili peppers flying past me left and right. I threw back as much as I could while my CREEPY boyfriend kept whispering at me "katy.. i jealous.." I was told that he was a drummer... like the one in BLink 182.. First off .. I reallly hate blink 182 furthermore, how do I come to a cop party and end up stuck with a god damn drummer?? I left New York to get away from the drummers/ bassists/ keyboardists/ guitarits/ artists/ guitartists/ retardists ETC. If I could find me a Balinese Carver (Wire reference for you coolest Grandma ever) I'd be set!
Once the festivities had reached severely drunk we slipped out as inconsipicuously as we could... (if you were me) only having to tolerate a FEW rounds of kisses from a drunk proprieter of one of the local resort hotels and having the words "Spanish Guitar" echoing somewhere behind me as we navigated the mud and light drizzle and I escaped my poor tragic tattooed boyfriend. The Sensitive type he was and didnt put up any fight at our parting.
I drove us home, Becca's head was reeling from the strange spirits she'd been forced to drink and once I'd got her showered and relaxed we ate some dinner and she crept off to bed. I meanwhile was in my fully social state and upon meeting a family of Belgians I think they were with two guitar playing sons jumped in on an old chili peppers song I remembered exactly ONE verse of. THe boys were playing guitar with two Balinese men in traditional everything decked out for teh full moon. They played I sang, we talked music... they knew 'Susie Q' which tickled me to the core, and as the rain began to fall heavily we talked and played every single song we ever knew. They played me Balawan - AMAZING - and I played them the Isley brothers. It was two am before I even realized it, having sang for teh first time in years really and been so awakened by the conversation abotu music...
I said good night to two truly lovely and talented Balinese men, we were all glowing from reflected light off the wet street in front of the porch where we played. The very serious guitar player said 'If you lived here - you wuold be in my band' a complete honor/ I'm sure load of BS. I slipped off to bed and poor sore cheeked Becca after a strange day, while the rain came streaming down from every corner of the sky.
Next up - Water palace, Indonesian Rush hour, and separation anxiety...
Balawan for those who are interested -http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zFQwqpnYz4o
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