Bali Five-0 (Bali, Indonesia)

For an updated version of this post, go here. 

May 20th, 2009 - I tore myself away from Seminyak. Not such an easy task. Normally I tire of beach life quickly but for some reason I am quite confident a few more days loafing in the sand would have been tolerable. No rest for the wicked. There are only so many days left on my visa and I must be getting to Sumatra before the end of this month at the latest. Current location: Probolingo, Java. Merely a pit stop on my way to Borobudur, Indonesia’s version of Angor Wat. I should be there the day after tomorrow.

Had my first run in with the traffic police today. I did something unimaginably crazy wack funk: I made a left hand turn at a red light. Nutty. As I made my way around the corner I was admonished by a traffic cop and directed to pull to the side. I did so but not without the unmistakable look of befuddlement that I often don when utterly confused. I’ve seen so many folks make left turns on red so many times that I did not even give it a second thought. Normally people barely even bother to slow down. Hindsight being what it is I can see the logic in actually stopping at this particular intersection. The stopping point is set back a bit, obscuring the view, and oncoming traffic from the direction of where I was turning takes up both lanes of the road when the light is green. Basically, when I made the turn I was heading directly into oncoming traffic. Only someone who is familiar with the area would know this. I’m not from here.

So I pulled over and sat down next to my new friend to have a chat. Sometimes it is helpful to know a few words of the local tongue. This was not one of those times so I decided to play stupid. Luckily, stupid is my middle name. I wonder how many times I repeated ‘I don’t understand’? He was edging closer and closer to writing me a ticket and I was getting progressively dumber and dumber. The idea being that the cops will get so frustrated by the language barrier that they will just say to hell with it and let you go. On this occasion I was successful. Stupid Rich: 1, Indonesian traffic police: 0.

I went to a restaurant tonight that had ‘Fried Frog’ and ‘Fried Pigeon’ on the menu. I was in the mood for neither. I skipped lunch and was really hungry so I opted for the chicken. I suck. Where the hell do the frogs and the pigeons come from? I really missed an opportunity but do not despair, I am sure I can find fried amphibian and flying rat in some other locale.

As I walked down the street this evening (searching for a cold beer) I passed a small Indonesian man who mimicked the action of grabbing my balls as he passed by. Perhaps the plumpy transvestite from the beach a few mornings ago called and told him I was on my way. Either this guy assumes that all western male tourists are gay or there is just something special about me. Maybe it’s the new haircut. If I was wearing a pink fishnet muscle shirt I might understand (I discarded it years ago).