April 5th, 2009 - I bumped into one of the instructors I knew from Dive Buddha in the Gili Islands. He told me that I have become a part of the local lore in the dive community. I am exhibit A in any discussion of the potential danger surrounding Titan Triggerfish. Glad I could leave my mark. I get to be the idiot who was ambushed by a triggerfish. Superb.
I believe I have mentioned how popular my motorbike is here. Well, a security guard at my hotel offered to wash my bike for me. Actually, he was excited to do so. It only cost me a pack of Marlboro Lights. There I go handing out death again. Maybe I should just get Phillip Morris tattooed on my forehead.
There is this small ramshackle restaurant on the beach that serves the best damn fried chicken I have ever eaten. I cannot get enough. It comes with a delectable garlic sauce for dipping. I dare say über-nummy!!! Screw KFC. This place does chicken right. Even more random is the music. While I dined last evening I was entertained with American country tunes. Yep, they have an Alan Jackson CD that they play frequently. So there I am sitting in a beach side restaurant on the Indonesia island of Lombok eating delicioso fried chicken and listening to Don't Rock the Jukebox by Alan Jackson. Does life get any better? Seriously?
And then there was the mute Indonesian masseur. I went to the hippest bar in Kuta serving up live music every Saturday. It was right off the hook. Not really. Kuta, Lombok, unlike its Balinese namesake, is not the place to party hardy. This is a good thing. There is this local gentleman of 50 or so years of age that gives a hell of a massage. A surfer from Norway was telling me this as he was being massaged by the guy right at the table. He told me it felt a little like the moment right before you have an orgasm. Really? The ad-hoc masseur gives free brief massages as part of his brilliant promotional strategy. When Team Norway was finished he pointed in my direction. How could I refuse? So I let this old mute Indonesian man massage me at the table in the bar. Pure magic. The guy is good. I am not big on being massaged by old dudes but I would have to make an exception for this guy. Not sure where he was trained but he has it mastered. It is really funny to watch as well because he has a stone cold serious expression on his face the entire time. He's all business. He should pack up and head to Italy. Instead of shady Indonesian taverns he could frequent villas in Tuscany and be some douchebag's personal masseuse. I could be his agent.
I had a shits and giggles moment at the beach today. As I stood there trying to convince some local vendors that I honestly didn't need another sarong I noticed the ice cream man come coasting in on his motorbike. I went over to inquire about the price of a popsicle. When he told me it was 7000 rupiah (about 60 cents) I decided to buy all the ice cream he had and hand it out to folks on the beach. Honda Phantom motorcycle: 22 million rupiahs. Ferry ticket from Bali to Lombok: 10 thousand rupiahs. Container filled with ice cream: 122 thousand rupiahs. Watching Indonesian children eat free ice cream on the beach: Priceless.
Was this a good idea? Nope. It sets a bad precedent for those that follow. It also did nothing to dispel my 'ostentatious asshole with the sweet ride' aura. I know all this but I just couldn't stop myself. Everyone seemed to genuinely appreciate the gesture. Besides, its just fucking ice cream, right?
So if all goes according to plan I will be in Sumbawa tomorrow. The island is much less developed and therefore probably one of the poorest. Not sure what to expect it should be interesting.
 |
sd
ReplyDelete