Rambling on in English

A very common theme with the locals since I arrived at the airport, was their absolute surprise that I spoke English. Correction, that I spoke English well. It was slightly insulting, at first... however, I think insulting is too strong of a word. Maybe just a bit annoying. I suppose I look local, I am extra dark as of late after all. After revealing that I wasn't local, 95% would comment that my "face looks like Indonesian". Anyhow, I never fully appreciated the fact that my parents taught me how to speak English from the get go, while still ensuring I also spoke Tagalog. I am so very blessed to have intelligent, caring parents with common sense to boot.

There are a few memories I have on the topic of speaking the English language. I will never forget the day I was in between classes in high school, talking to a friend at her locker in Tagalog about some new drama in our 13 year old lives. Some bozo chirps in, "You're in America. Speak American!" Well, I had a field day! Needless to say, I happily corrected the fellow that the language he & I spoke is ENGLISH, not American. Another was in 2nd Grade, once a week in English class we were required to speak to one another in English and not a peep of Tagalog; I was always very proud. A memory I'm not too proud of  was when I was a bit younger...  I used to tease my nannies in English-- bratty little me, poking fun at the fact that they couldn't understand a word I said. "I'm speaking in English and you don't know what I'm saying! You can't understand meeeee! Na na-na na-naaaa na!" They'd cry and I'd laugh. Horrible, I must admit. I was 5 and Pops wasn't very pleased with me every time I did it. Yes, I did it more than once. Last, but not least, I was around 4, I would convincingly tell anyone who would listen about good ol' America-- California, the Golden Gate Bridge, Disney Land! Like I had the slightest clue about anything I said. I guess my English was just good enough that it was believable. I think Pops found it funny.

I'm not sure if it's a Balinese thing, or what, but everyone seems to feel the need to speak to me (often being singled out in large crowds I'm waiting in-- i.e., lobbies, waiting areas, shuttles, restaurants, the pool). Maybe they feel I need someone to talk to and they're simply being nice since I'm all by my lonesome, but the locals keep striking conversations with me (even with my headphones on and The Black Keys blaring against my eardrums or while I'm in the middle of a meal mid-chew). Every time they comment on my English and how they wish to speak English well, too. They ask me a million questions, bring over a friend to chat a bit more, then ask if I need another drink or towel or whatever it is they can think up, trying to look like they're just taking extra good care of me. Their reactions are slightly overwhelming-- the excitement, their eyes light up,  huge grins on their faces, uncomfortable giggling, and the very common sign language trying to explain what I'm saying. Who knew it would be so exciting to speak English!

Thank you Mom & Pops, sincerely.

Relaxation Station

Staying in Nusa Dua for the first week-- was advised that it was very quiet and "coupley" which I found appropriate for my first week alone in Bali. Figured I'd make myself comfortable before trying to venture to the more adventurous spots. It took  a minute, but I mastered ignoring the peddlers in the streets. A friend's mother told me the peddlers ruined her whole experience, so I was determined to ensure that would not happen with me. I'm in Bali for goodness' sake! The Jet lag is a pain, for sure. First few days have been a little off; lots of sleeping when I should be up and lots of being up when the rest of the country is asleep. On the plus side, I've been up early enough to see the sunrise and make some great yoga classes. Found out on my run today that the resort offers bicycles to guests-- score. Ive been spending quite some time floating in the lagoon-esque pool looking up at the grand floral trees. They cast beautiful lace-like shadows down on my little piece of Bali paradise; very relaxing. Then I look over to the left (or right) and it's the incessant PDA straining my eyes, reminding me I get to have dinner by myself tonight. Haha, awesome. Relaxing is this week's goal. So far? Success! Beaches, sunrises, yoga, lounging, reading, napping-- what more can a girl ask for?!

For some reason, I pictured Bali to be big on the whole vegetarian train; not the case so far. Maybe I'm in the wrong spot, nixed that and on to seafood :) I can't pass up on all this fresh seafood! I've checked out some thrifty local joints around the neighborhood, asking the staff around the resort where they'd suggest their own friends to eat, and trying some tasty Balinese grub. Not too shabby. I'll be venturing into less thrifty, more mainstream joints next! I feel like I should have done more research, but hell... I'll be here a month, I'll figure it out. I hope.

Can I have your number?

LAS VEGAS->SAN FRANCISCO->HONG KONG->BALI

That's how travel went. Quick stop in SF for dinner and drinks at Jasper's with the cousin. San Francisco to Hong Kong was a li'l over 14hrs. Layover in Hong Kong was a li'l under 5 hours, then it was a short 5 hours flight to Bali! The flight was magnificent, helps that I was able to fully stretch out with 3 blankets, 5 pillows, Harry Potter and movies galore.

Arrived at a very deserted Hong Kong International Airport around 6am. Walked around for an hour before settling in somewhere. It was too early and my flight hadn't been assigned a gate yet, so I just sat at the closest gate, Gate 53. The airport started to fill and my flight finally got assigned a gate, of course... Gate 15. Always happens-- furthest gate, furthest room, furthest theater, furthest anything from my current location; it's like a cosmic joke. That took me a good hour to find. Forgot for a minute where i was-- "boy there are a lot of Asians walking around"-- duh. The airport was huge and it didn't help that there was a big maze of a shopping center smack down the middle. I passed the same Starbucks 4 times before breaking down. Oh, and everything was in Chinese.

First hour in Bali was interesting. Baggage claim was odd. There were a bunch of 5"5' dark skinned Balinese "bell hops" that insist on wheeling your luggage for you. The whole thing was confusing and irritating. He insisted on grabbing my stuff, chat me up with a very broken English, then talk to his fellow workers about me. The ol' elevator-eyes gets old after 13 Indonesians stare, smile, then ask if I have a boyfriend. Awesome. Finally get to customs to get my bag checked, looked official enough. Mr. Official opened my bag, searched inside. Another came over with a little gadget and rubbed it all over my things--"you eat drugs?" EXCUSE ME? Apparently that's what the gadget was for, to detect whether I "eat drugs." I'm looking around and no one else is receiving the same treatment. Great. Still waiting for Mr. Gadget to get back and good ol' Mr. Official was asking me some standard questions, or so it seemed. "Where are you from?", "How long are you staying?" "Where are you staying?", "How old are you?". Then it got weird-- "Do you have a husband?", "Do you have a boyfriend.", "Can I have your number?" WHAT?! I politely respond-- "Are you crazy?" Mr. Gadget gets back-- cleared. The "bell hop" brings me over to the money exchange counter and it became pretty clear-- he gave me the get-money-so-you-can-tip-me-bitch nudge over to the exchange desk. It all happpened so fast, I gave 'em a few hundred bucks to see how it worked. She handed me a few million rupiah and change, which was enough to make me feel uncomfortable. The whole "million" thing throws me off. Then the guy insists I tip him... I get handed over to yet another buck-toothed 5" Balinese man and this is when I insist, I can roll my own bag.

"Do you know what the hell's going on yet?" Some American kid-- I gave him my ice cream bar on the plane-- stood by me in the taxi line. "KIND OF." I felt better, I wasn't the only one completely weirded out about the whole experience. It was hard to tell who was official, who wasn't, and who just wanted my number. Oh, Bali. You're going to be a hoot. By the way, 100,000 rupiah is around $12.10. I need to go get change tomorrow.