DAY THREE: Last day in Bali

The group's plans diverged here. Mutia had to go to Jakarta to be fitted for her dress for her cousin's wedding (more on that later), but she'd be meeting us the next day. Our guide from yesterday had talked to Mutia about other dances and sights we could see, and, after seeing the Kecak, Zoe and I decided to go for it. Rachel had been wanting to check out the beach, so we split up.

First, we were going to see another kind of dance. The description included something about people being put into trances and trying to stab themselves. We were late getting to the lobby to meet the guide, though, so we didn't get to see the venue they had in mind. We found another place with a troupe performing the same dance, so we ducked in there.

This was a lot more crowded--there were probably two or three hundred people in the audience. The Kecak had used a chorus only, but this featured a gamelan, a full Indonesian orchestra. (Here's a quick look at the setup.) This was midmorning, so that set a much different mood than yesterday's twilight setting. Whereas last night's had next to no dialogue, this one was full of it, mostly in Balinese. The performance on the whole was nowhere near as good as the Kecak had been, but that may have more to do with the Kecak being really good than this one being really bad. Anyway, we left the dance nonplussed.

Next, Ketut took us to a temple in a region called Uluwatu. Along the way, he talked to us (in excellent English) about the beliefs of his people. I'm not sure how much of this was his personal interpretation and how much was representative of Balinese Hinduism on the whole, so I'll just stick to the former. He explained that although Hinduism recognizes several thousand entities that we refer to as gods, there is in fact only one god, which simply manifests itself in different forms. The three main forms are Brahma, the Creator; Wisnu, the Protector; and Ciwa, the Destroyer. (The last two are the Indian Hindu names Vishnu and Shiva, altered to reflect Indonesian pronunciation.)

Ketut explained that humans have the capacity to emulate all three of the gods: they can take life, preserve life, or create it. He went on to say that, as our creators, we should reserve for our parents the same kind of reverence and respect we would afford the gods themselves. He said all of this without sounding preachy. He wasn't trying to convert anyone; he was simply describing his beliefs. Looking at it now, I can see how strange his words sound when typed out, but I promise there wasn't anything strange about it as he was talking.

We eventually arrived at the temple. As we parked, Ketut gave us a warning. The temple is home to many monkeys, he told us, and they can be--to use his word--"naughty." To prepare for that, he told us to leave in the car anything light or flimsy that we didn't want to lose: keys, watch, sunglasses--even passport. As stupid as it sounds, we left our passports behind, along with our watches and Zoe's purse. (Oh, don't worry. Nothing happened to them.) I made sure my camera strap was looped tight around my wrist, and we set out. It cost about a dollar per person to enter the temple, and there was someone selling bananas for feeding the monkeys. The dress code prohibits short pants or skirts in the temple grounds, so we were given purple sarongs to cover up with. Zoe was wearing a tank top, and had a silver hair clip. Both of these facts become important.

As we headed onto the temple grounds, Ketut pulled a small bamboo sapling, tested its sturdiness, and explained, "In case the monkeys are naughty today." He assured us that the monkeys were not aggressive, and that individuals were nothing to worry about. He instructed us, however, to be careful about being approached by several at once. If that happened, he told us to toss away all our bananas.

He also explained that there are energies and meanings attached to different types of landforms, and intersections of opposite forms is considered sacred. One such intersection is a high cliff overlooking the ocean. Uluwatu is just such a place, and so a Hindu temple has been built there. We walked around the temple grounds, and while this was interesting, the view and the roar of the Indian Ocean below us were simply breathtaking.

As we came down from the main point of the temple, we saw some of the monkeys. I later confirmed that they're macaques, one of the most common monkeys in the world. We noticed them frolicking around a group ahead of us. They had moved up with that group by the time we got to that area, so the first one I saw up close was sitting on a rampart overlooking the ocean.
He was holding something, and the pose he struck for me made it look like a can of beer. A few minutes later we saw spatterings of white on some of the bushes--either these macaques poop white all over the place, or he was holding a can of spraypaint.

The rest of the group soon noticed us, and came scampering up to get some food. They didn't seem the least bit afraid of us. I handed the first one a piece of banana, and he reached out with one hand and grabbed it. He sat down on the wall overlooking the ocean, and ate it methodically, using all five fingers to grasp it. I know I'm making a big deal about something as simple as a monkey eating a banana, but this is the first time I've seen a monkey eat up close, especially without a cage between us.

We gave bananas to some more, before a crowd inevitably formed, and we promptly tossed the bags away. That took care of the problem immediately; none of them lingered for a fight or anything. We walked on, and soon heard a mild commotion. There was a group of tourists (whities of indiscernible origin--we all look the same to me now), and two girls were seated on a bench while their parents took pictures. Two of the macaques had jumped onto their backs, and were mostly chilling out, while the girls were squealing. Eventually they stood up, and the monkeys hopped off. After consulting Ketut, Zoe and I decided to give it a try.

As soon as we sat down, a macaque jumped onto our shoulders. It (I didn't get to check) chilled out for a second, then began tugging at Zoe's hair. Not wanting to make any sudden movements, I slowly turned and saw that it was trying desperately to take her hair clip. I can't blame it; the clip was nice and shiny. While it couldn't quite get it out, and eventually gave up, it did a nice job of messing up Zoe's hair. Having abandoned that, it began grooming her. A second macaque jumped up on my back and began doing the same thing: trying to find bugs to snack on. (I'm almost positive it didn't find any.)

Zoe and I both did a pretty good job of staying cool, despite having a mostly wild monkey picking at our scalp. Zoe's must not have found any bugs, and was apparently hungry, because it began searching her skin for some. Thanks to her bare shoulders, it found what it probably thought was a bug on her lower neck. It was, in fact, a birthmark, though it stood in stark contrast with her fair skin. At any rate, it tried picking at it with its fingers, at which point Zoe signalled it was pretty much crossing the line.

Ketut, who had stood nearby the whole time, stepped in closer. This made my macaque jump away (not before similarly trying to pick at one of my freckles), but Zoe's leaned in to try biting the "bug." It didn't get more than a nibble before Ketut swatted it with the bamboo, but that was enough to get a squeal from Zoe. It didn't break the skin--all it did was chafe, leaving her with a nice little macaque hickey. I wasn't scared by any of this, but then, I wasn't the one getting love bites from a monkey. Zoe, however, didn't seem rattled by it, either. We just had a laugh about it and pressed on.

On our way out of the temple, we saw some more macaques, and since we didn't have any bananas, they didn't seem to notice us. As we were heading back to the car, I found one striking a fairly awesome pose. In fact, I think that might be my favorite picture ever.

We got back to the hotel a little after noon, thanked Ketut, and gave him and the driver a big tip for all they did for us. We then met up with Rachel, who had spent the day at the beach and at the hotel spa. She had already eaten lunch; we, on the other hand, were famished. So we headed out on foot to check out the shops outside the hotel.

We found a nice little Dutch-owned restaurant, gorged ourselves on more boring-sounding but amazing Indonesian food, and sat around talking for a while. We then did some browsing: Zoe practiced haggling over some 25-cent sarongs while I tried in vain to find a Panama hat. (I have a big noggin.) We found a gelato stand, and spent about ten minutes just looking at all the different flavors (green apple, blueberry, butterscotch, grenadine, etc.).

As soon as we arrived in Bali, we noticed small green things on the ground outside of most buildings. A small plate or tray was formed from folding a palm leaf, and on the plate were small bits of food. Mutia explained that they're offerings for the gods, and that the locals put out a fresh one every day. Sure enough, we passed by an offering dish for each stall, and we noticed the different items in each one. Well, we noticed almost all of them. As we were leaving one stall, I felt a sudden splash of warm liquid on my leg, and looked down to find Zoe's foot in one of the offering trays. It turned out to be a small plastic bag of coffee that she'd burst, splashing us both with it. We felt awful about it, but the shopkeeper and her neighbors all laughed it off. We bought something from her out of guilt, and moved on.

We went back to the hotel, agreed to meet up for dinner later that evening, and split up for naps and such. I took the opportunity to stroll around the hotel, and to search for the "golf course" I'd heard about on our first day. Following the signs, I found the tennis courts, which, according to the map, were very near the Bali Hyatt Golf Links. (At least, that's the kind of venue I was imagining.) When I found a short par 3 near the tennis courts, I got all excited, and tried to get to the other side of the courts, to find where the rest of the back (or front) 9 was.

As most of you have probably figured out, the golf "course" was in fact that single par 3. The clubhouse consisted of an equipment shed. Don't get me wrong--it was a well-stocked equipment shed, including tennis rackets, tennis balls, golf balls, irons, putters, and (inexplicably) a driver. It was still an equipment shed, though. I was half-tempted to play that par 3 eighteen times to declare myself the winner of the first annual Bali Hyatt Pan-Asian Invitational, but it looked like a father and his young son were practicing. Defeated, I headed to the beach and took a nap.

For dinner, we decided to try the hotel's Italian restaurant. I went with boring (but tasty!) red wine, Zoe got a pina colada, and Rachel got pineapple juice, which was served in a full pineapple. Rachel got a calzone, and Zoe (a lifelong vegetarian) and I shared a margherita pizza and pumpkin-stuffed cannelloni. It was delicious, and our table being practically on the beach didn't hurt, either. For dessert, I got a smoothie and a dessert called "raspberry mousse." I soon found out that I've apparently been using the term "mousse" incorrectly all these years. What I understood to be a whipped topping usually served on cake turned out to be a thick, custard-style dish. It was tasty, of course, but not at all what I was expecting. The girls naturally got a big laugh from it, and we all just about lost it when they delivered my draink. Look at the picture and you'll see why.

We closed out the evening by using the big chessboard near the pool. It was an epic battle, with Rachel trying to help Zoe, but I managed to pull it out. The pool had been reserved by a Dutch or German wedding party (Zoe couldn't figure out which it was by listening in), which made for an amusing background.

With Mutia gone, we had paid for a trundle bed to be added to the second room to avoid one of us having to pay full price for a single room. We all packed up our stuff, and Zoe and I tried to duck out for a quick game of golf in the dark, but some clever groundskeeper had the foresight to lock the "clubhouse." So we stopped by the lobby to get one last picture and called it a night.