It was Christmas day. It was rain, rain and more rain all through the Christmas eve night and Christmas morning. Thanks to the research on weather forecast I had packed for the rain. And today was a brilliant opportunity to relive the younger days, when I never spared the rain and mother never admonished us when we got wet, unlike parents of today. The past was about enjoying the seasons. The monsoons were a relief from the heat and were to be enjoyed. Growing up has its downside; staying away from the rain being one. This day I decided to walk in the rain, once again. Not be afraid of the impending thundershowers. I told myself to enjoy the now, the rain, and not be dampened by the weather forecast. Dressed in a red t-shirt, green windcheater, blue raincoat bottom and orange crocs look-alike (euphemism for copy), I spent the entire morning walking in the rain. People squatting in their shops hoping for a let up in the rain merely looked up, smiled and said 'good morning. Just the friendliness and hospitality of the Balinese make this a great holiday destination.
Ubud Palace was a bit of a disappointment as I had expected to see a 'proper' palace. It's bang in the centre of the busy city street. From there the walk to the Sacred Monkey Forest was a short one past the many shops and food stalls. The huge forest within the city helps maintain the ecosystem. I walked a fair distance away from the city in search of a ceramic art shop. I didn't find it and was a wee bit tired to walk back to the hotel. I was offered a ride back by a youngster, an example of typical Balinese hospitality. Lunch at the Mama Mia restaurant was so huge that I just drank water the rest of the day. Christmas is a season of joy. The smiles and affection of the local people make Christmas a all-year affair.
The day had started interestingly. I met an amazing Chinese family at breakfast. At the buffet counter I was amazed to hear a couple of them speak flawless Hindi. And my curiosity was aroused. In a while I heard one of the seated persons mention that old age is a curse. I had heard those exact same words from my mother a few years before. I could not resist going up to the gentleman and make a few wisecracks about age. The large family seated there didn't mind the unsolicited stranger. In fact, they welcomed the 'intrusion'. I learnt that many of them had lived in various parts of India before migrating to Canada. They corrected me to say that they were speaking Urdu and not Hindi! One of them even now lives in Karachi, Pakistan. Over 60 of them had aggregated in Bali for the 'destination wedding' of one of their younger relatives. An elderly lady told me, "We Chinese don't grow old. We grow older!" Amazing people.
I had to seek directions many times on the walk to Ubud palace, and every time the directions followed smiles and waves of the hand. In pouring rain I reached the Royal Palace. It is right in the midst of the busiest part of Ubud, the focal apart of the city. The Palace was built in the first quarter of the 19th century and successive heirs have maintained the Palace. There were a few tourists around despite the rain. I had expected a majestic building. It was nothing like that. After looking around for a while I walked to the Sacred Monkey Forest. The shops that should have been doing brisk business were challenged because of the rain and the travel advisory that kept tourists away from the island.
The Monkey forest is one of the most popular attractions of Ubud. In fact, all resorts and hotels advertised it's distance from the forest. The massive natural sanctuary is home to the grey long-tailed macaques. The entire community seems to have adopted the simians and they are seldom a threat to visitors and a long list of do's and don'ts are worth going over before embarking on the exhilarating walk through the lovely forest.
The monkeys have their own socio-political system. In this their natural habitat one can see them swinging playfully through canopies, feeding on bananas, lazing around, nursing the young, some fighting and raising a huge cacophony of angry sounds, but never threatening the visitors. The forest offers paved walkways for a cool walk through the leafy nutmeg forest. There are a few well preserved temples with statues that guard them, covered in moss. There are volunteers everywhere guiding visitors and ensuring that monkeys are not fed what they shouldn't be. Bananas can be bought from vendors inside the forest to feed the monkeys who playfully vie with each other to get the maximum they can get hold of. And some even pose for photographs. They seem to accept the transgression into their surrounding!
One thing I observed during the short stay in Bali is that propitiation of gods is an important part of the Balinese daily life. Yudha told me that offerings are made three times a day and it does cost a fair bit. Offerings include rice, flower, coconut, agarbathis, etc. All houses have their own temples. The bigger the house the larger the temple. Some family temples are open for outsiders to worship and make offerings. Some are works of art. Every shop and establishment has its own place to make the offerings three times a day. Ganesha is the most popular deity, I found. A true Hindu can be found here. It is their constant surrender to the Almighty that make the Balinese so peaceful and hospitable people, was my observation. I was soon to experience a slice of it very soon.
While entering Ubud a couple of days back i had noticed a ceramic art store, which I thought was not very far from the place where i stayed. Since the rain had abated i decided to explore a bit more of the area on foot. I walked past local artisans shops, vending paintings, furniture and handicrafts. Shops were not busy. I also appreciated how disciplined road users were. Drivers were careful not to splash passersby with rainwater that had accumulated in puddles almost everywhere. In a while I had walked a fair bit with little sightseeing of the shop I had set out in search of. My feet had started hurting too. I tried to hitch a ride back to the hotel, with little luck. That's when I noticed three youngsters trying a reverse a car back into their house. I asked the older one how I can get some assistance to return to my hotel in the city. Without any hesitation he said that his sister would drop me back on her bike! I was stunned. Here I was, a complete stranger, drenched in rain and sweat, and yet worthy of hospitality. Goodwill, most certainly, knows no boundaries. When I mentioned that I would not like his young sister to be inconvenienced the younger brother offered to drop me off. And he did. What a wonderful advertisement for the lovely island and it's people!
Having walked over 6 Kms that morning I was ravenously hungry. The Mama Mia restaurant is just round the corner from The Artini Resort. I was the only one in the small eatery which served Italian delicacies. After settling down I ordered a banana juice and Polppetone, a meatloaf with generous amounts of cheese. While waiting for the Polppetone I espied a fat, jovial man given directions to those who looked liked cooks at the restaurant. I asked him if he was the owner, which he confirmed and told me that he was experimenting something for a special Christmas delight later that day. He invited me to try out his experiment later when it was baked and ready. The banana juice was excellent, with no added sugar. The Polppetone took a good half hour to polish off. It was heavy and I didn't have the stomach for the Mama Mia Christmas special. I had to politely refuse the portion that was offered. The rest of the day I had to rest my digestive tract, only providing it water to aid the digestive process.Wistfully I spent the rest of the evening packing. I had to leave the next day. I had no doubt that I had chosen just the right place to spend the Christmas vacation; happy amongst a very peace loving people.
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