Today is our first day off. At breakfast, Margret gives Max and I easy verbal instructions to get to Ubud. Then we’re off. Max fits right in with the Balinese driving scene. He winds through traffic erratically just like everyone else. At least he has good control of the motorbike. Except for when the road clears up he goes a little too fast for my liking. I hold on for dear life the entire time.
When we reach Ubud, we park our bike near Monkey Forest and start our day. It’s hot out and it doesn’t take long for us to be sweaty and gross. We begin by visiting the Ubud palace and temple. We have to ask where they are because don’t stand out too much. They aren’t as interesting as I had expected. Moving on, I find a natural beauty shop where I’m able to purchase shampoo and conditioner, as well as some mosquito spray for Catherine. Then we’re on the search for Hanoman street, which is apparently the best shopping street. While wandering, we run into one of the yoga girls, Glory. The yoga girls often get free time after their morning sessions and many of them love to go into Ubud to go shopping. Glory is on her way to get some money converted and we tag along. She becomes our guide. We watch her bargain for some souvenirs at the market. I’m dying for all of the items being sold around me. So many cute bohemian shirts, tanks, dresses, shorts and bags. I want everything. But I decide to take it all in first. I’ll buy something once I find an item i really like.
Glory takes us down Hanoman street, which is full of boutique shops, yoga shops and cafes. She points out Earth Market Cafe, which I’d heard about from the yoga girls. Apparently there are great vegan snacks there. We stop at Kafe (yes, that’s what it’s called) to meet up with Loreen. I’m excited because I’d heard about this cafe back when I working at a boutique shop in L.A. from an eccentric Norwegian woman. The cafe is cute and quirky, with a winding staircase that leads you to the second floor. We sit on pillows at a table and I order a delicious omega smoothie that tastes like chocolate.
Afterward, Loreen shows us to CocoMart, which is the only big convenience market in the area. This is where all the yoga girls are dropped off and picked up by Agung. Max and I are hungry so we say our goodbyes and wander off to find food. While wandering back down Hanoman street, I spot a pretty top from a vender’s stall and hesitate. The lady is happy to see a customer and takes the shirt off the hanger for me to try on. She slips it on me, and as she fastens the buttons she says, “No boobies. What happened?” I can’t help but laugh and reply, “I don’t know!” No matter, she tells me I look “sexy” and I end up buying the top. I pay 40.000 rupiah, which is equivalent to $4, but actually less than that when you convert it into dollars. What a steal.
Max is getting cranky by this point, so we continue our search for food. We end up at a cheap spot back by the temple and order sautéed chicken on sticks for $3. Yum. We still have a good portion of our day ahead of us, but we’re not sure what to do. I start throwing out ideas but to no avail. Max definitely doesn’t want to shop anymore. Suddenly, I spot a sign for rice terraces and remember there are supposed to be some big ones right outside of Ubud. We head back to the motorbike and ask some locals hanging out in front of the shops for directions. One of the taxi drivers gives us simple directions [if you want to find them here’s how: drive down the main street past the palace, towards the Ubud market; take a left at the big white statue; continue straight until for a while until you take a sharp right at a sign with a picture of rice fields]. The taxi driver even helps Max maneuver his bike out of the tight parking spot. I love Balinese people.
Max is much happier when he’s driving his motorbike. And the breeze feels nice in the heat. On our way to the rice terraces, we drive by all these little handmade craft shops along the road. I spy several wooden carved statues, wind chimes, dressers, bookshelves and more. They’re all so beautifully crafted and look like they could come right out of a William Sonoma magazine. I wonder if this is where expensive furniture stores purchase their goods. The crazy thing is that here you can purchase these items at a fraction of the price.
We drive through the craft shops for a while until we gradually begin to see glimpses of rice terraces along the side of the road. Then, we speed by a sharp turn with the rice terraces sign and I tell Max to turn around. As we drive up the hill, some locals shout at us, “Rice Terraces! Rice Terraces!” and point at this dirt spot where a bunch of bikes are parked. We hesitate for a moment and ask if it’s free to park there. They say yes, and then this little girl walks up and tries to sell me a wooden carved cat. Standing by the entrance into the fields is an old man carrying a stick on his shoulders, with a bundle on either side of it. He offers it to us, along with a bamboo hat, for a photo op. I’m instantly reminded of a similar picture of my friend who came to Bali a year ago. I wonder if they’re always here. We have to pay the old man some money for the picture, but it’s so worth it. Then a man who introduces himself as Wayan proceeds to lead us down to the rice fields.
Wayan is a happy, energetic guy who is very enthusiastic about taking us on a tour. He proudly tells us that the old man from the picture is his father, and that his home is on the other side of the rice fields. The rice terraces are absolutely gorgeous. I cannot stop taking pictures. Wayan leads us around the edges of the fields. He points out certain plants that grow coco beans for coffee, and papaya and mangosteen trees. When we pass by these species again, Wayan asks us what kind of plants they are to test our knowledge. Wayan also explains to us how rice is grown. Some are grown in water while others are grown in drier spots. It’s crazy seeing how much rice is grown. But then, that’s all most of the Balinese eat. They can’t afford anything else.
While we walk through the green rice plants, Wayan keeps pausing to touch what look like tiny, tiny ferns. With just one touch of the finger these fern leaves quickly snap together and shy away. Wayan says they’re very sensitive and chuckles in his funny little way. He loves to see my reaction (I gasp every time). They kind of remind me of fly catchers, except for they’re harmless little plants. [The species is called Mimosa pudica.]
As we walk along the edges of the rice terraces, we keep spotting Wayan’s friend way on the other side of the fields. Every time we see him, Wayan asks us to shout, “Hi Toman!!” I can tell he gets a kick out of it. We eventually reach the other side of the fields. Max and I had no idea that we were going to be seeing this much of the fields. No matter, we are both in a state of wonder and let Wayan lead us further and further into this beautiful world of green. Wayan then does the unexpected and tells us he will take us to his friend’s home. We are going to see a real Balinese home! We finally meet Toman up close, who is giving a tour to a man from Switzerland.
We’re led down this quiet neighborhood, which looks like a community of temple ruins. The stone buildings look archaic and are run down by the natural environment. Each place looks the same. We turn right into a stone archway and are welcomed by Toman’s brother, mom and grandmother. They’re so happy to see us and offer tea. Their little home is beautiful but worn down. You can tell they’re very poor. The home is entirely open, with a courtyard, a mini temple to pray to in the center, and a few rooms to the side. A chicken and its baby chicks scurry in front of us and I can’t help but squeal with glee. Toman’s family brings over mangosteen for each of us. The fruit is so slippery in my hands that most of it drops to the dirt floor. The family is so sweet that they fetch me another mangosteen. And I know they don’t have much. I end up dropping another one of the fruit slices, but manage to keep the rest of them in my hands long enough to reach my mouth. Max just shakes his head at me.
Wayan tells us that the family wants to offer us coconut water, but it costs $2. Max says no but I jump on it. It’s so cheap for fresh coconut and I’m dying of thirst. Toman’s mom hands me the coconut with two pink straws and a little flower sticking out of it, as if I was about to lounge in a cabana. I love it. The family encourages me to take a picture with my coconut and even tell me where to stand. I can’t help but laugh. Then they say wait! They want Toman’s grandma to stand with me in the picture. She’s so tiny compared to me. Their enthusiasm is contagious. I continue to enjoy my coconut water and our nice break at this sweet Balinese home. I share my coconut water with Max, knowing that he’s thirsty too after this long day of walking in the humid Bali sun. When we finish slurping up the refreshing juice, Toman’s brother takes our coconut, chops it in half and hands it back to us with spoons to scoop out the meat. I’ve never eaten the inside of a coconut before. It’s amazing. The meat is a gooey white substance that you scrape off of the sides. It’s strange, but so sweet and yummy. I realize how hungry I am and scarf it down. I can’t believe I get all of that for just $2.
Seeing that we’ve had our rest, Wayan asks us if we’re ready for the rest of the tour. Believe it or not, we have more to see. By this time, it’s reaching 6 o’clock and the sun is starting to drop in the sky. This produces the most beautiful scene over the water-filled rice terraces. Max and I look at each other and say we couldn’t have picked a better time to finish our tour. Wayan uses his little walking stick to feel the ground in front of him. We walk along water-logged terraces and some of the grassy ledges aren’t resilient enough to carry our weight, thus his stick comes in to play. We’re on the opposite side of the terraces, and this time our view is a line of little shops and cafes lining the rice fields, hanging off the green cliffs. The sky starts to turn purple and we know its time to start thinking about dinner. It’s obvious we’re not going to make it back in time for dinner at Jiwa Damai, so we have to find a place out here. Wayan tells us that his brother has a restaurant nearby he can take us to.
He leads us up these large grassy steps to the restaurant. Max and I are the only ones at the restaurant. We are shown a table that overlooks the rice terraces we just spent the last three hours exploring. The table is Balinese style: we take off our shoes and sit on comfy pillows. Max and I look at each other in disbelief. We have no idea how we got ourselves into this huge ordeal but we are ecstatic. We’re so lucky we met our friend Wayan. Our dinner is the best meal I’ve had yet. I order fish and rice in a tomato-mushroom sauce for less than $6. Max and I give Wayan money for being so kind to us. I wish we could’ve given him more.
We take a couple of selfies with Wayan on his phone and then a group photo on my Canon. By this time it has gotten dark out. It’s time to go home. Wayan helps lead us through the dark back to our motorcycle. He asks Max if I’m his girlfriend and he says no. “So I can have her?” asks Wayan. Max says, “Go for it!” Then Wayan says, “But she so pretty.” I’m laughing. Basically Wayan and I are dating on our walk back. We takes my hand to help lead me through the dark street. He tells me he has a girlfriend named Putu and I ask him if he’s going to marry her, to which he responds, “I’d rather marry an American girl,” and grabs my hand. Wayan becomes buddies with Max and they try to exchange numbers (but international calls would be too expensive). I get on the bike with Max and we head out through the night. I’m not ready to marry a Balinese man.
We almost miss a turn on the way home but luckily Max catches it. We go through an entire tank of gas by the end of the day. We finally reach home, exhausted. It’s weird that at this point Jiwa Damai is “home” to me. We spot Margret as we reach the grounds, and our greeted by her three dogs’ barks and growls. I give Margret a quick blurb of our day. She’s happy to hear it and see us home safe. Then we stop by Catherine’s room and I hand her the bug spray I bought her while giving her a summary of our adventures. I’m happy to finally take my Balinese bath and go to bed. It was an amazing, surprising, fulfilling day. I’m going to miss Wayan and his little walking stick.
