Morning market. Waiting for a woman in her fruit stall to fill the four glasses with snapping lids full of coconut water and then to prepare some jackfruit - extracting the slimy pieces with clear plastic bags on her hands to avoid direct contact with the persistant glue-like substance around the edible. Walk to another stall to get some jeruk nipis, limes. A woman makes a whooping sound. Then another. I turn around to face the room and listen to many women whooping from their tables and stalls. It subsided soon. Very nice - but what was that about? I didn't ask.
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Friday, February 27, 2015
Hard at Work
At the Art Cafe on Jalan Danau Tamblingan (street) in Sanur doing hours of vital work on my Zenbook laptop. Overcaste. Cool breeze. Loose leaf black tea followed by mixed juice - no sugar, no ice. Music of contemporary Gus Teja playing. A tiny preying mantis just landed on my left hand index finger - never saw anything like this before - maybe a sixteenth of an inch. Obviously an interloper from a parallel miniature universe. I'm siting by a wall with plants on the other side and moved my hand to a leaf and it hopped on.
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
From Thunder to Trudging
There was so much thunder and lightning last night. It lit up the sky toward the sea and the land and didn't go away. Hours.
It wasn't near so I jumped into the pool in the dark and swam toward the ladder on the shallow end. Drying off amid the rumblings and flashes, I recalled walking with the Hare Krishna brigade. They'd paused to dance and chant in place and I'd gone on to meet Katrinka. As she and I walked back we passed them going the other way. Her iPhone was too full to take a short video. Then after an excellent dinner at Art Cafe, there they were again and we walked with them quite a ways back to our place as they offered treats, CDs, directions to their temple, and received rupiah donations. One difference was that this time I had a cloth bag of groceries we'd procured on the way. It was heavy enough that I had thrown it behind me, holding the straps with both hands over my shoulders, hunching over at times so my back could relieve my arms. It hadn't crossed my mind at the time but now, drying myself by the pool, I realized that none of those young, healthy, bouncing, blissed-out spiritual adepts had offered to help what must have obviously been a senior citizen among them struggling to carry his groceries home. This is a common sort of oversight for those of us who imagine we're following a superior path and who are trying to save others from their deluded suffering.
It wasn't near so I jumped into the pool in the dark and swam toward the ladder on the shallow end. Drying off amid the rumblings and flashes, I recalled walking with the Hare Krishna brigade. They'd paused to dance and chant in place and I'd gone on to meet Katrinka. As she and I walked back we passed them going the other way. Her iPhone was too full to take a short video. Then after an excellent dinner at Art Cafe, there they were again and we walked with them quite a ways back to our place as they offered treats, CDs, directions to their temple, and received rupiah donations. One difference was that this time I had a cloth bag of groceries we'd procured on the way. It was heavy enough that I had thrown it behind me, holding the straps with both hands over my shoulders, hunching over at times so my back could relieve my arms. It hadn't crossed my mind at the time but now, drying myself by the pool, I realized that none of those young, healthy, bouncing, blissed-out spiritual adepts had offered to help what must have obviously been a senior citizen among them struggling to carry his groceries home. This is a common sort of oversight for those of us who imagine we're following a superior path and who are trying to save others from their deluded suffering.
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
A Perfect Fit
Took our self-prepared visa extensions in to the Immigration Office today and they were accepted as is with a kind request that I get Katrinka to sign hers next time.
Then trusty driver Nyoman and I dropped by the organic Indian store where the owner, Depak, asked if I'd train someone to make the sesame salt I'd given him as a sample. Driver Ketut's wife needs work. Spent a couple of hours going to aluminum shops to see if I could get the missing piece for the kayak oar made - a ten or so inch tube segment to join one paddle to the center piece. It was missing I explained, not wanting to admit I'd thrown it in the recycling having forgotten what it was. No one had the right size tube. Finally we gave up and drove more through the short shop streets of Denpasar to a boat equipment place - no boats, nothing displayed nicely - some outboard motors, boxes stacked, sort of junky. They had one canoe oar that was too long and heavy and didn't come apart anyway. Looked in a catalog with the Chinese woman who ran the place. She could order something like what I wanted from Thailand - or was it Taiwan? She'd look further. She asked for my number. Nyoman walked up with a stainless steel tube. I tried it - almost but too big, a loose fit with the orphaned paddle. I gave her Nyoman's number cause the Indonesian would likely be too difficult for me if she called with a suggestion. On the way out Nyoman was talking to a worker, snooping around as they chatted, looking into piles of this and that. Picked up a piece of grey PVC pipe. Brought it over. I stuck the paddle male end in it. Snug fit. Perfect. We figured out how long it should be. Worker marked it. The holes on each end would have to be perfect I pointed out for the recedable knobs that stick out to snap into place just right to hold the paddle tight. He agreed. The woman said they'd have it ready tomorrow. Wanted to be paid first. 25,000 rupees - a little less than $2 these days. "Ajaib ajaib" I said as Nyoman drove off - miraculous - miraculous thanks to his snooping. Nyoman dropped me off short of the place to meet Katrinka so I could walk with a group of Hari Krishnas. I gave him 250k - about five bucks an hour to drive me around all afternoon, wait, help out, and solve the unsolvable. He was pleased - a major haul. I chanted down the street behind the group with Ukrainians and Russians and Indonesian men in orange and spinning Bali women in colorful sari, a trumpet and harmonium - Feliniesque. Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna! Hare Rama! Hare Rama!
Then trusty driver Nyoman and I dropped by the organic Indian store where the owner, Depak, asked if I'd train someone to make the sesame salt I'd given him as a sample. Driver Ketut's wife needs work. Spent a couple of hours going to aluminum shops to see if I could get the missing piece for the kayak oar made - a ten or so inch tube segment to join one paddle to the center piece. It was missing I explained, not wanting to admit I'd thrown it in the recycling having forgotten what it was. No one had the right size tube. Finally we gave up and drove more through the short shop streets of Denpasar to a boat equipment place - no boats, nothing displayed nicely - some outboard motors, boxes stacked, sort of junky. They had one canoe oar that was too long and heavy and didn't come apart anyway. Looked in a catalog with the Chinese woman who ran the place. She could order something like what I wanted from Thailand - or was it Taiwan? She'd look further. She asked for my number. Nyoman walked up with a stainless steel tube. I tried it - almost but too big, a loose fit with the orphaned paddle. I gave her Nyoman's number cause the Indonesian would likely be too difficult for me if she called with a suggestion. On the way out Nyoman was talking to a worker, snooping around as they chatted, looking into piles of this and that. Picked up a piece of grey PVC pipe. Brought it over. I stuck the paddle male end in it. Snug fit. Perfect. We figured out how long it should be. Worker marked it. The holes on each end would have to be perfect I pointed out for the recedable knobs that stick out to snap into place just right to hold the paddle tight. He agreed. The woman said they'd have it ready tomorrow. Wanted to be paid first. 25,000 rupees - a little less than $2 these days. "Ajaib ajaib" I said as Nyoman drove off - miraculous - miraculous thanks to his snooping. Nyoman dropped me off short of the place to meet Katrinka so I could walk with a group of Hari Krishnas. I gave him 250k - about five bucks an hour to drive me around all afternoon, wait, help out, and solve the unsolvable. He was pleased - a major haul. I chanted down the street behind the group with Ukrainians and Russians and Indonesian men in orange and spinning Bali women in colorful sari, a trumpet and harmonium - Feliniesque. Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna! Hare Rama! Hare Rama!
Monday, February 23, 2015
Tropical Entertainment
We watched daytime TV - the Academy Awards. Didn't plan to but I went on BBC and saw that JK Simmons won best supporting actor and since that was the only comment immediately recognized that it was just starting. Yep - the time was almost 11am here Monday in Bali, so that's 7pm in CA Sunday night so we turned on the TV and it was on HBO Asia. Afterwards a couple of little geckos jumped on Katrinka and scurried down and away when she reached for a towel in the bathroom.
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Oliver Sachs on Approaching Death
On being terminal - My Own Life
Oliver Sachs has made a great contribution - check him out if you don't already know. - DC
Oliver Sachs has made a great contribution - check him out if you don't already know. - DC
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Underground music from the early 1980s Bolinas Agate Beach Studio listen to at dc artist pages on YouTube , Spotify , Apple Music , Deez... -
Katrinka is such a good cook that sometimes I accuse her of trying to fatten me up for market and suggest that she might be in some secret ...
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For the first time in human history