When Ducks Can Make You Filthy Rich

We just got home from a lovely, absolutely lovely 6 days in Ubud, Bali. What have I been missing all this while? I always thought Bali was ultra commercial until Jeanette and Mariam kept urging me to go and experience it for myself. I am so appreciative that I did. I can’t believe this island has eluded me for so long.

Sorry if I sound like a complete fan-girl of Bali. I am enthralled. Head over heels. I think I shall retire there and start my resort.
A friend asked me what I found special.
Ubud has all the right architecture right down to the old, gnarled frangipani trees the locals call “pokok Jepun”. This is not to be mistaken with “Jepang” as Jepang is how the Balinese call the Japanese. So I am still puzzled about the difference between Jepun and Jepang.

Perhaps I shall ask the Balinese the next time I get there (see? I am already planning my next trip despite the fact that I hate connecting flights. We had to take a Penang-KL flight, transit a few hours and then take KL-Denpasar. The same thing when we came back.)
Anyway, I loved that Ubud is like a village. It is small enough to feel familiar yet full of interesting nooks and crannies waiting to be discovered. Like the words I saw written on a white wall behind a goal post near Jalan Hanoman – “100% Love Is The Goal”. These little amusing moments strike me as whimsical yet fitted perfectly with the character of Ubud people (the angmohs and the locals alike).
Over the years, Nic and I realized that the vacations we craved weren’t just about going some place famous and taking snaps all day long. I was never that sort to begin with. Nic and I love meandering down little lanes, stopping for a chat and a drink, taking a longer time just to savour the day. That’s how our perfect little holidays end up anyway.
We never liked overwhelming ourselves with the must-do’s and the must-see. I think part of the reason is that we both strive to find meaningful connections with the people and the places we visit. So this time, we didn’t see Tanah Lot nor did we go up to Kintamani. We didn’t do Mount Batur or Goa Gajah or watch dolphins. We knew that we’d be back and we’d have plenty more trips to do so.

What we did do was make friends with the locals. We met Wayan Kunang-Kunang when we ran into his shop to take shelter from the tropical storm (you never want to ride a scooter when rain pelts you like bullets). We met Made Lasil at Neka Art Museum and he showed us how to play the bamboo instrument called ‘rindik’. We exchanged stories with Eka, Deksri, Mellany and Sari, the wonderful staff at Bali Dream Resort where we stayed and had a good time learning Indonesian words and finding that we had so much in common. Others like Wayan, our taxi driver, was so thankful when Nic gave him more than he asked for in taxi fees.

We learnt so much about Nyoman Sumetro, the owner of Bebek Tepi Sawah restaurant, when we toured the art gallery located next to the famous restaurant. Sure, we had stopped by to partake in the famous bebek or crispy duck (Mariam exhorted me to try it) and truth be told, Nic’s ikan gurami panggang tasted a lot better than my ultra-crispy half bebek! Bebek Tepi Sawah is so successful that it spawned more than a few outlets across Indonesia and there is even one in Singapore. That explained the Ferrari parked right out front! (It was covered modestly with a silver plastic car cover but nothing can hide the voluptuous shape.) Another bebek place that I didn’t get to try was Bebek Bengil a.k.a Dirty Duck Diner along Monkey Forest Road. Bengil is the local word for dirt (or “daki”) hence dirty duck. Perhaps next round!

It is conversations with the locals that I loved best. It was funny to know that what we call “telur mata kerbau” is called “telur mata sapi” over there. It became a joke among the staff of Bali Dream Resort because each morning, as we ordered our American breakfast, they’d ask us how we’d like our eggs. We’d all laugh when we said “telur mata sapi” and then they’d repeat to us “telur mata kerbau” with a straight face but later burst out laughing because they couldn’t help it.

Ubud is a slower pace of life, where shops are shuttered at 9pm (even Starbucks Ubud) and people are in bed by 10pm. The air is cool in the evenings because of all the rice terraces, trees and rivers.  Ubud is also the place where you will find a “pura” or temple every couple of steps. Religious and cultural events are a nightly feature.
One night, we witnessed a full procession of traditionally-dressed Balians as they celebrated yet another religious festival in full pomp. A Caucasian lady with a yoga mat slung over her shoulder asked us if we knew what was being celebrated (Ubud attracts a lot of Caucasians on a health and rejuvenation mission – yoga, vegan food, smoothies, retreats, the full works). We had no idea. But the procession went its way and finally she stopped a Balian and asked him what it was all about.
Pengosekan in Ubud is where Elizabeth Gilbert of Eat, Pray, Love found Ketut Liyer, the palm reader whom we were told, only read foreign palms (he also charges higher rates). Ketut Liyer is old, in his 80s and still ranks as the most famous palm reader in all of Bali, thanks to the book and the movie.

Family life, having kids and being spiritual are a mainstay of the Ubud people. Nic and I felt a bit like oddities because Wayan, our taxi driver thought we were both on our honeymoon as we didn’t have any kids tagging along! (Ubud is very family-friendly. Families with kids in tow are everywhere, mostly Caucasian. This is not the sleazy Bangla Road of Phuket where lady boys are openly parading. I read later that there is a happening gay scene in Ubud which I seriously witnessed not!)
So consider this an amuse bouche for more of Ubud tales to come. I shall be back with more!