8.01.2011

Journal Entry 2 May 7, 2004 Hotel, Puri Bambu, Jimbaran, Bali, Indo

Taking Morgan here, before entering Jr. High, I had hopes of exposing her to something beyond. Hopes of pre-expanding her, a sort-of 'let's help you skip the Jr. High illusions ahead” and forge god-speed into the light.



Late in the day we rode little "spicy-bike" a few miles down from our lodging to the fishing-end of the village, exploring, down at the end of the road that runs parallel behind the beach bumping along as it turns into washed-out road.  We pulled over in shock as all six senses were erupted with our first exposure into the third world (at least a block of it).  Packed with people, animals, noise and scents.   Strong, weathered men pulling in their colorful brightly painted boats, chipped paint worn from the sun and sea.  Women sweating in colorful sarongs as they carry the catch, baskets spilling over with shiny, flapping fish. Roosters and Hens squawking in beautiful baskets held by women dressed in lace tops, wrapped sarongs, hair dressed with flowers while the men drive, zooming by us on motorbikes. Where they are headed we do not yet know.  Kids piled on the men and women on the motorbikes, entire families on one bike.  Kids running about barefoot in dingy colored shorts with running tasks or playing.  Aloud shouting voices of sellings of fruit and clothes and fish in obvious words but that we do not understand.  Smells so pungent they are not of the world we know.  An ancient lady with a caved-in mouth coming slowly and deliberately towards us, looking in my eyes, in way that makes me start the engine slowly go, though it was likely just to look and feel Morgan’s yellow hair and not a curse as our insecurities creep up. All of this and more, amongst dingy shack warungs stacked with rough food cooking and grilling for the locals, a smell divine  if it were only isolated from the others.



We were too rattled to stop for more than a minute.  It was surprisingly overwhelming so we
decided to head back and eat in the comfort and security of our lovely rooms.  Barely making it through our light dinner of Indonesian soup with a banana pancake (YUM!), she slept 12 hours again! 
I thought I would pick up a mirror for the missing one on the left side of my (new?) Motorcycle when after riding around the death-trap circuit, (and this was just in little Jimbaran),  I realized it was the only thing keeping me on the left-hand side of the road!  There appear to be no rules here! "We" would go straight to jail (with out a "get-out-jail-free-card") if WE road like this in the little town where I come from.  On the up-side, it is rather thrilling and fun, a little bit like the go-cart track as an adolescent, only faster and without the bumper.  Morgan thought it was much less dangerous than walking (and I am being serious here).  Reason: not EVERYONE is passing you.  Passing is usually within a few scarce inches whether it's a small or big vehicle or walking. The bigger the vehicle the more right-of-way they decide to have.

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