M-whY

Clearing immigration and customs at Bali was easy. I received a 30 day visa for US$25, which I paid for in Australian currency. I converted the remainder of my Australian dollars to Indonesia rupiah and became an instant millionare (US$1 = 9,500 rupiah). In doing so, I made my first mistake. Money changers in the city gave better rates than the banks at the airport. It wasn't a huge ripoff, we're only talking 1-2% difference here, but it still bothered me a bit when I found out later.

Outside the airport, I was immediately approached by a taxi driver.

"Taxi to Kuta Beach?"

A quick glance around told me there was no shuttle service. I paid about US$3.50 for a ride to Kuta Beach, which is probably reasonable considering there was a sign advertising taxi prices.

"So which hotel are you staying at?" he asked as we got moving.

"I don't know yet." Mistake number two. Never say I don't know. Just make up something if you have to.

"What kind of place do you want? Quiet or busy place? Cheap hotel or big resort?"

"A cheap quiet place."

"I will show you a nice hotel. I take another Japanese tourist there yesterday."

I'm not Japanese, but I didn't bother to correct him. He'd soon find out anyways.

"You speak very good english," he commented after we had made some small talk.

"Yeah, I'm American."

"Ohh, I thought you were Japanese because of your face."

A short while later, we were in Kuta. He didn't drive into the big resort hotels as I requested, but instead pulled up into a smaller place on a quieter street. The hotel owner showed me some rooms and asked for ridiculously high prices. Some haggling cut it down drastically, to about what a dorm bed in Australia had cost. I still had the feeling I overpaid, but I have to say, the room was nice. A room all to myself, a big queen sized bed, and my own private bathroom. I'd only stay here a couple nights. It was worth a splurge.

After securing my bags, I went out to have a look around. Bali is a popular destination for Australians on holiday, as it seemed like everything revolved around tourism. But it's different from the places I had been to previously. Tourist information centers were on every corner, but they were more like travel agents pushing tours around the island. Traffic was chaotic. Cars swerved into the wrong lanes, motorbikes whizzed about. Every dozen steps, someone would ask me if I needed a taxi. The whole place was alive with activity.

The sight of all those motorbikes made me want to ride one too. I found one rather easily. Or rather, it found me.

"Motorbike?" A guy sitting along the curb asked me.

"How much?"

"How many days you want? One day, 50,000 rupiah. Three days, 45,000 rupiah a day. One week, 35,000 rupiah."

I probably wasn't going to stay in Bali long.

"I just want it for one day, but 50,000 rupiah is too much."

"Okay, I give you a deal. One day, 45,000 rupiah."

Now we're only talking a couple dollars here, but I wanted to see what I could get. Besides, haggling is pretty much expected here, and I needed all the practice I could get.

"One day, 35,000 rupiah. If I like it, I'll rent again tomorrow," I offered.

He hesitated for a moment (probably for show), then agreed. While I filled out some brief paperwork, one of his buddies, also just hanging out on the curb, asked, "Where are you from?"

"China," I lied.

"You know Jackie Chan?"

I was annoyed for a moment. Like every Chinese person knows Jackie Chan. I was about to respond with a curt "no" before deciding to play along.

"Yeah, he's my brother."

We shared a laugh at my comeback.

Soon I joined the ranks of motorbikes weaving in and out of traffic. Not quite as exciting as my 600cc bike I used to own, but still a lot of fun. My puny scooter didn't have a lot of power, and with the narrow roads and congestion, the fastest speed I reached was only around 60km/h. But as the atmosphere of Bali is extremely humid, the breeze from riding was a welcome treat.

Without a map, I ended up going in circles a lot. I wasn't looking for anything in particular, except maybe a bookstore. I eventually found one, and purchased a second hand guidebook. I flipped through the Bali section, and realized, just as I expected, I could've found a cheaper place to stay. Oh well, it's a learning experience. Next time, I'll know what I should expect to pay.

I mapped out the streets on my bike before deciding to hop off and explore the more interesting bits on foot. I had just parked my bike when a Balinese man came up to me asked me something in japanese.

"What?"

He repeated his question.

"I don't speak japanese."

He switched gears to english. "Do you want to try an Indonesian girl?"

"No."

"I can show you a nice young girl."

"No." I tried to get away, but he was persistent.

"Tell me what kind you want, I get for you."

Damnit, how do I get rid of him?!

"Sorry, I'm married."

That line worked. He smiled and went off to find another person to harass.

Food and (non alcoholic) drinks are pretty cheap, and I had myself an appetizer, main, and drink for under US$5. Afterwards, I went to Kuta Beach to hang out and study my guidebook.

I settled under a palm tree and was about to take out my book when I started being harrassed again. No, I don't want to rent a surfboard. No, I don't want a beach towel. No, I don't want a massage. Some of them were quite annoying, but I soon learned the best way to deal with them is to ignore them from the start.

A Balinese young boy, maybe around 17 years old, sat down under a palm tree across from mine. He started talking to me, asking if I was from Japan, how long I had been in Bali, how long I planned on staying. Wonder what he wants? But he seemed like a nice kid, wasn't pushy, so I didn't mind talking to him.

"So do you surf?" he asked.

"Nope, I've never tried before."

"I can teach you if you like." Ah, so he was a surfing instructor.

"Not today, I'm a bit tired. I was out partying too late last night." I was telling so many lies that it would make a crooked politician cringe.

"Maybe tomorrow then? We can negotiate a good price."

"Maybe tomorrow."

"My shop is just next to that building? I'll wait for you tomorrow?"

"I'll try."

I thought he'd leave after that, but he seemed to enjoy sitting under the palm trees too. A couple minutes of silence followed, before he leaned over and spoke again.

"Are you interested in a woman? I can introduce you to a nice lady."

Geez, do I look like some sort of pervert?

"Sorry, I'm married." Hey, it worked last time.

"Ahh, where is your wife? She didn't come to Bali with you?"

Crap, I wasn't ready for that one.

"She's too busy with work, she couldn't come. I came with a friend." That was a weak response, I thought.

"Ahh, ok." Phew, he bought it.

Our gigolo-surfing instructor ran out of activities to push, so he said he hoped to see me tomorrow and went back to his shop. I stayed on the sand for a while longer before returning to the streets for a lookaround.

Everywhere I went, I was greeted in japanese. Shopkeepers would make a slight bow and say 'konbanwa' (good evening). Guys hanging around corners would ask me if I wanted to rent a 'kuruma' (car). It started out funny, but by the end of the day, it got really annoying. I had encountered this before, but not to this degree.

I returned my bike and walked back to my room, and amuseing myself with the thought that learning japanese would serve me better than learning Balinese. I'd probably get a lot more mileage out of it!

Thanks to everyone for their support and comments! Knowing people are reading keeps me motivated to continue the updates!