With 10 countries and 29,254 miles traversed, 2017 was my most active year of travel since 2013, although interestingly my mileage count for the year seemed low given the number of flights I took (19 in total). At the end of this post you can see summaries of previous years’ adventures and how they measure up. But 29,000 or so miles is nothing to sneeze at; in some ways this last year feels like it was much longer than a year. Here’s why, and what I did in 2017:

This post was originally published in 2018. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

JANUARY: Florida, Ecuador

I started off 2017 in Florida at my (kind of) home base in Hollywood where I had spent a chunk of time in 2016. By mid-January, it was time to make a move, and that move was to the mountains outside of Cuenca Ecuador to live at Gaia Sagrada retreat centre; a place I discovered in late 2016 and to where I was returning.

FEB-MAY: Ecuador

The next four months were spent at Gaia Sagrada, where I assisted the manager in trade for a break on accommodation expenses, and informally continued my studies of ayahuasca and san pedro shamanism. It was an intense and all-encompassing position that required a lot of my energy through every two-week retreat.

So I didn’t spend much time “discovering” Ecuador, nor doing much work on my online business, which had been somewhat stagnant since I took to doing “shaman things” in Peru in late 2014.

But I did get around Ecuador a tiny bit during the five day breaks between retreats at the retreat centre. I visited Banos in the north, which is the adventure capital of Ecuador, and where I (sort of) bought a hotel for $29. I also visited Vilcabamba in the south; a popular “hippie town” with an interesting vibe that compares to my former home of Pisac Peru.

But the time soon came (inspired by an expiring Ecuadorian visa) for me to move on. By the end of May I was on a plane. Doors have been left open in Ecuador (and at Gaia Sagrada) for me to return, but to this day I’m not sure if it’s in the cards.

JUNE: Florida, (Toronto), Japan

The beauty of my (kind of) home base in Hollywood Florida at my friend’s house is that it’s a great jumping-off/landing point when traveling to/from South America. So after a couple of weeks of decompressing in Hollywood, I said sayonara to my boyfriend (with whom I’d been together since my arrival in Ecuador in 2016) who was jetting off to the west coast to earn some money while I jetted off to Tokyo (with a lightning fast layover in my hometown of Toronto ) for a house-sitting gig.

My arrival in Japan was an exercise in me proverbially coming up for air and taking stock of my online business, which had been relatively stagnant after three years of sitting on Andean mountaintops “doing shaman things”. What I saw wasn’t pretty.

JULY: Japan

Among other increased business activities such as redesigning my website and taking social media to a new level, I breathed new life into my dormant YouTube channel and started producing weekly travel vlogs. Tokyo was a perfect place to do it; it was eye candy for the camera and cocaine for the brain. Selected highlights included almost dying on Mount Takao, going to the Greatest Show in the History of Entertainment, and then having the wool pulled off my eyes in Akihabara.

I started to intellectually fall out of love with Japan after Akihabara, as I pontificated in my post Why I Could Never Life in Japan. But after almost two months in total in Japan, I managed to pull it all together with this (slightly more balanced) post.

AUGUST: Japan, Indonesia

I realized that in over 10 years of wandering the world, I almost never went somewhere without having my accommodation sorted out (and usually free accommodation at that). Bali was the first time I’d gone somewhere without having any innate connections, specific opportunities, or accommodation lined up.

But I went anyway, and it was fantastic. I hung with the monkeys, negotiated like a pro in the markets, hiked through rice terraces, and learned about the beautiful ceremonial practices of Balinese Hinduism. Oh yeah – and I visited Kuta to see a Balinese healer, which was a total comedy of errors (but the kind that made for a really funny post).

SEPTEMBER: Hong Kong, Macau, Indonesia

Coinciding with the expiration of my 30-day Indonesian visa was an opportunity to go to Macau to speak at a travel conference.

I stayed in Hong Kong for a week (and loved it – most of it), before taking a ferry over to Macau for the conference. The connections I made there paved the way for some opportunities for an upcoming trip to India that I’d booked after finding a mistake air fare.

After my quick sojourn in Hong Kong and Macau, I returned to Bali for what was supposed to be another month. Instead, the active volcano Mount Agung went into high alert, and although I was technically safe in Ubud, reports I’d heard from Ubud’s survivors of Mount Agung’s last eruption in 1963 didn’t make me want to stick around to find out, so I voluntarily evacuated. Turns out I evacuated a couple of months earlier than necessary, but the volcano did indeed start spewing ash which shut down the airport a few times.

I really enjoyed Bali on the whole, and am certainly curious to return….another time.

OCTOBER: Indonesia, Sri Lanka, India

Part of the reason evacuating from Bali was easy for me was because I had friends of friends (of friends) in Jakarta who were kind enough to open up their homes to me. I had no intention of writing about my three weeks in Jakarta which were pretty sedentary, but a few things happened that I found so amusing I simply had to share.

Then it was off to India (via a night in Sri Lanka). India was another destination that I chose without having much of anything organized save for a cheap flight. But after sending off a few emails and making some connections in Macau, my trip started to take shape. It began in Jaipur where I reunited with an old friend and landed in the lap of luxury, which continued on the Deccan Odyssey: the most luxurious train in the world.

NOVEMBER: India, Thailand

Even in the lap of luxury, everything started to go wrong for me, and my month in India (much of which was spent in Rishikesh) became a critical and pinnacle experience for what I suspect is going to be a big transition/transformation (still in progress). I’ll be pontificating more on this idea in 2018, as this is something that is unfurling by the day.

So it was with no small degree of enthusiasm that I left India in mid-late November on a plane bound for Chiang Mai Thailand, where I reunited with my boyfriend after six months apart. We found a sweet little condo to nest in for a wee while.

DECEMBER: Thailand

I’ll be writing a bit more about Chiang Mai in the coming weeks; but I also don’t have very much to write about Chiang Mai on the whole, since I did almost nothing noteworthy (from a travel blogger’s perspective). Instead I enjoyed all the creature comforts of this surprisingly bohemian city, ate amazing food, went to the gym, spent time with my boyfriend, and tended to some increasingly consuming issues of health and wellness (both physical and emotional).

It was an agonizing kind of bliss that capped off 2017 in the strangest of ways.

Summary Notes

For a year that started off in South America with a focus on plant medicine work, I didn’t expect to visit 10 countries; including seven Asian countries – all of which were new to me except for Thailand. Then again, it was a year full of unexpected surprises and new experiences. The easiest way to explain my current state of being is to say that it’s like every single aspect of my life has been thrown up in the air (lifestyle, location, health, relationships, career, etc), and I’m watching all the pieces float around and am waiting to see where they land. It’s simultaneously exciting and agonizing. 2018 is going to be a very interesting year. Stick around….I’m pretty sure it won’t be boring.

10 countries and 29,254 miles…..2017 is another one to go down in my own little history book.

Previous Annual Summaries

My First Four Years of Full-Time Travel (2007-2010, including Canada, Hawaii, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, Australia, USA, Mexico, New Zealand, Spain, Germany, France, England, Scotland, Ireland, Nepal)

What I did in 2011 (13 countries, 73,000 kms, including New Zealand, Canada, USA, Sweden, Portugal, Spain, Switzerland, Czech Republic, Ukraine, Russia, China, Vietnam, Grenada)

What I did in 2012 (8 countries and 20,000 miles, including Grenada, St. Martin, BVIs, USA, Switzerland, France, England, Canada)

What I did in 2013 (12 countries and 29,000 miles, including Grenada, USA, Canada, England, Scotland, Holland, Norway, Denmark, Germany, Ukraine, France, Panama)

What I did in 2014 (7 countries and 34,000 miles, including Panama, USA, Canada, Peru, Spain, Gibraltar, Italy)

What I did in 2015 (6 countries and 35,000 miles, including Peru, Colombia, USA, Costa Rica, Canada, Bolivia)

What I did in 2016 (5 countries and 30,000 miles, including Peru, USA, Canada, Ireland, and Ecuador)

This post 10 Countries and 29,254 Miles: This was 2017! appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

In fact, I had no intention of even writing about the place. Except, a few interesting things happened, and I just can’t help but share these amusing quirks of Jakarta – quirks that I suspect to a larger degree reflect Indonesia, and perhaps even to an even larger extent, Asia.

I Love You Mom! (Crying on Television)

The tipping point for my decision to write about Jakarta came from a television show on Indovision. A friend who I was staying with loves to watch tv shows of concerts, and other types of vocal performances. One night, she was watching an Indonesian equivalent of The Voice; a vocal competition/reality show that involves contestants enduring months of competitive performances and challenges. So of course, this means the contestants (who are from all over the two million square kilometres of Indonesia) spend these months in Jakarta, away from their homes and families.

The show is playing in the other room, and I’m not paying much attention, as I eat my dinner in the kitchen. Suddenly I realize the singing has stopped, and for quite some time, various people have been crying.

I ask my friend what’s going on. She says because the contestants are all singing from the heart, they are singing to/for their mothers. Thus, a big component of the show is the theme of Mother. In Indonesian culture, Mom is #1. She trumps everybody else in life, and is respected and revered as the most important person. According to my friend, you always take care of your mother, even if it is at the expense of your own self-care.

(As a side note, I think this is perhaps a little extreme, but the sentiment is beautiful, since mothers become secondary in their own lives when they have children. For the children to respect this and give back to both their parents, is the way things should be, and is unfortunately something that seems lost on much of North American culture. I love you Mom). (/end soapbox rant)

So. As I watch this tv show, the host is engaging one of the contestants who is crying uncontrollably, telling a long tale about his mother. When he’s no longer able to speak because he’s crying too much, another contestant is at the mic talking about her mother, and crying. A third contestant is consoling her. Then the host breaks into tears. The camera pans the audience members, all of whom are in various states of dishevelment from crying.

Back to the contestant who was consoling her running mate. Now her own head is in her hands, and she’s sobbing about her mother. Suddenly, a 78 year-old woman is wheeled out on stage – the mother of this girl, who has been flown out to Jakarta for this on-air surprise. She collapses at her mother’s feet, and more tears flow.

I can’t believe what I’m watching. And the harder people cry, the more I can’t help but laugh in total disbelief. This would never fly on American tv! I’m shocked at this outpouring of emotion that is going on, and on, and on.

It’s been almost an hour. I ask my friend how long this is going to go on for. She tells me this happens on almost every show, and lasts for up to 1.5 hours. I blink in amazement; this pop-cultural insight becomes a real highlight of my time in Jakarta – not because the rest of my time is boring, but because it’s so damn surprising. And pretty funny.

Themed Parties

As the token bule (foreigner) friend of my lovely host, I was invited to accompany her to a friend’s birthday party. Problem was, I didn’t get the memo about the dress code. As if my red curly hair and white skin didn’t differentiate me enough, my lovely green shirt stood out like a sore thumb amid a sea of yellow.

Despite my wardrobe faux pas, I was welcomed with open arms by this giggly group of about 20 Indonesian women, who get together regularly to share lunches, birthday parties, raffles, and WhatsApp messages. Although language was a bit of a barrier, it didn’t stop me from feeling welcome, becoming a part of dozens of group selfies (as a side note, I’ve never seen so many selfies being taken in my life), and a further invitation to another birthday party a few days later (dress code: black princess dress).

Dress codes and themed parties seem to be a thing in Jakarta. While out for lunch one day, I saw another group of women having lunch together, all dressed in pink. My host tells me she belongs to about half a dozen different groups of women (one is for school moms, another is neighbourhood-centric, etc), who get together regularly, almost always with a themed dress code.

My final event was another lunch with the girls, dress code: blue jeans and white tees. I had to turn down another invitation to a birthday party which was a day after I left Jakarta; dress code: schoolgirl’s uniform. A bunch of these women are taking a trip together to Japan soon – and even for Japan, they’re bringing matching outfits.

I think the idea of themed parties is brilliant. It’s lighthearted fun. It adds some variety to the mix, and makes for some great pictures. Like I said, I’ve never seen more selfies being snapped in a concentrated period of time in my life. When I offered to take pictures for some people, they refused – they preferred to take selfies. I was so amused, that I started taking my own pictures of people taking pictures of themselves.

There’s No Middle Ground

During my stay in Jakarta, I lived in a relatively isolated and privileged part of town. It was a land of gated communities with blocks of almost identical houses, each with built-in servant’s quarters, multiple cars, and full-time chauffeurs. One couple told me that their monthly costs to run the household (all in, not including mortgage) was about $2,000 (USD).

This is the good life in Jakarta. The houses I stayed in weren’t super extravagant by North American standards; they reflected what an upper-middle-class person would own. Here in Jakarta, it’s the high life. (There are more opulent places in Jakarta for sure, but this is plenty high. For context, the governor of Jakarta lives in a similar neighbourhood).

While living the high life, I met many others living a similar life. The women in those themed party groups? Although some of them have bule husbands, don’t assume they’re trophy wives, or living a life of leisure. Many of these women wear the pants in the family. I met restauranteurs, famous artists, plastic surgeons, and owners of large companies.

Who had the money and what they did for a living was of no consequence at these parties (the only reason I came to know their backgrounds is because my friend privately shared this information with me). For these women, social status was secondary. Fun was first.

But that’s easy to say when everybody at the party has a personal driver. There’s another half to life in Jakarta, and Indonesia on the whole, and I’m told there’s very little middle ground. It’s a land of the haves and have-nots. I was lucky enough to be chauffeured around, cooked for, and cleaned up after, in a style that was initially quite uncomfortable for me. The household staff looked at me like I was crazy when I said I’d take my luggage upstairs, or wash my own dishes, or do my own laundry. They gently took my hand, assured me it’s their job to help, and made me sample a taste of what it is to live a very privileged life.

Although I’ve heard horror stories about the mis-treatment of household staff, I’m happy to report that I saw no such thing. In fact, in one household I stayed in, the staff positions were held by extended family members who weren’t as well-off, and they lived and operated as a welcome part of the family.

If all this rambling seems like I’m trying to justify living with servants during my time in Jakarta, maybe I am. But truly, perhaps it’s no different to my visiting any country with a lower standard of living and weaker currency, and using my plentiful Dollars to stay in comparably nice hotels/villas with cleaning staff. It’s all a matter of perspective.

Which brings me back to crying on television, and family values in Indonesia. Regardless of social status, one unifying concept I saw – in Jakarta, as well as Bali, was that of family.

I consider myself extremely lucky to have been accepted into a few different families in Jakarta, during my impromptu three weeks in the area (after evacuating from Bali). Despite the fact that I did very little, the experiences I had allowed me to sample a bit of daily life – which is the whole reason I decided to travel full-time in the first place. So despite the fact that these families were confused by the fact that I barely left the house, I could not have had a better, more local, and insightful travel experience.

Things to do in Jakarta

This post I Love You Mom! Crying on Television, and Other Quirks of Jakarta appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

I spent five weeks in Bali in total (I was meant to be there for eight weeks but I evacuated early), and all of that time I was based in Ubud. I don’t apologize for not staying on other parts of the island; in fact if anything, I apologize that I couldn’t get to know Ubud even better. When I do return to Bali, it will be to Ubud.

This post was originally published in 2017. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

That’s not to say that other parts of Bali aren’t equally (or perhaps more) deserving of my attention. My day trip into Kuta didn’t go so well, but I hear lovely things about many other parts of Bali, and when I return I expect to visit some waterfalls, climb some mountains, and relax on a beach or two.

The attraction to Bali (and specifically to Ubud) was of a spiritual nature, though I wasn’t on any particular quest, and I only took two yoga classes (much to the shock and surprise of many “spiritual” people in Ubud).

I went to Ubud because there are a few spots in the world that seem to attract spiritual pilgrims of all sorts:

• One is the Sacred Valley of Peru (a place I was lucky enough to call home for two years) and to a larger extent the Andes mountains of both Peru and Ecuador (where I also spent time doing “shaman-things”).
• Another is Ubud, the artistic and cultural hub of Bali, and also the spiritual centre of Balinese Hinduism; something that has attracted tourists and spiritual-seekers since the 1930’s.
• The third is India (DUH!) – where I’ve spent the last few weeks, and will be sharing all kinds of information with you about shortly.

This year will have seen me in all three locations; in a poetic and subtle exploration of what attracts people to these “spiritual” places.

Stumbling on a Cremation Ceremony Parade

I’ve written about the importance of ceremony and religion in Bali (see also: Canang Sari – The Ceremony of Life in Bali); it dictates daily life. And although stumbling on a cremation ceremony parade might not be a once in a lifetime opportunity, it’s still a very special event to witness….which you’ll see in the video below.

Ubud Mashup (Vlog, Ep. 28)

I’ve already published quite a few videos about Bali, which I encourage you to watch if you’re interested (you can find a list below). This Ubud Mashup is a simple collection of clips that create a flavour of the place, of driving and walking the roads, stumbling on ceremonial parades, enjoying nice meals, watching rice get planted, and listening to magical wind chimes. Enjoy!

Click here to watch this video on YouTube.

Other Bali Videos

Campuhan Ridge Walk in Ubud

Balinese Painting for the (not so) Artistically Inclined

Why I Evacuated from Bali

Ubud Market – How to Negotiate

My Monkey Forest Commute

Balinese Cooking 101

This post Ubud Mashup (Vlog Ep. 28) appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

I cap it all off with a bit of a rant for anybody who wants to try and tell me that Bali has lost its magic or isn’t what it once was.

Bali: Asia Lite

At the end of my first week in Bali, I went to dinner with a reader and his wife, who had recently closed up shop in California and adopted an early retirement lifestyle of travel for an undetermined period of time. Rosalia, having grown up in Brazil, was well-traveled within the Americas, but had never been to Asia, and had trepidations.

“I figured Bali was the best place for us to start, to get her acquainted with Asian culture,” said Craig. “You know, it’s kind of like ‘Asia lite’.”

It was a decision that served them well, because over the five months they spent in Bali, she grew to love the place and the people, and was ready for their upcoming destinations including Nepal (which Craig thematically refers to as ‘India lite’).

I’ve also heard Hong Kong referred to as ‘Asia lite’ for similar reasons as Bali; English is widely spoken, it’s relatively easy to get around, chances of being overwhelmed by local touts or scammers are minimal, poverty isn’t in your face, and most tastes (and budgets) are catered to.

My Asian acclimatization happened in Bangkok in 2008, and it wasn’t pretty; in retrospect I wish somebody had encouraged me to start in Bali.

Bali vs. Indonesia

It’s an interesting relationship that Bali has with Indonesia; Bali, although an intrinsic part of Indonesia, is far from what you can expect from other parts of the country. Indonesia is made up of 17,000 islands sprawling over two million square kilometres. So…it’s big. Most islands have their own language and a certain individual cultural flair, and Bali is no exception.

Indonesia is also home to the world’s largest Muslim population, Islam being the predominant of six officially recognized religions. Bali, by contrast, practices Balinese Hinduism, with 85% of the Balinese population of said persuasion. And their religion dominates daily life. (See also: Canang Sari – The Ceremony of Life in Bali).

This is one of a few reasons why I think Bali might be the island that stands out the most from the rest of Indonesia (and unfortunately, is not very well liked by the rest of the country).

Everybody Has the Same Name

It’s pretty easy to remember names, once you learn all half a dozen or so names that exist in Bali. This was one of the things that confused me the most about Bali on arrival – how do people differentiate themselves? But they seem to manage okay.

In general, Balinese people name their children according to the order they’re born, and names are the same for guys and girls. The firstborn child is named Wayan, Putu, or Gede. The second is Made or Kadek. The third is Nyoman or Komang. The fourth is Ketut. The cycle of names then repeats for subsequent children.

I was talking to a Balinese friend who had three kids, and he said he was hoping for a fourth, just so he could complete the cycle! According to him, a family isn’t complete without a Ketut.

Additional names are added to this primary moniker; some are nicknames, and others are according to their social/financial status. Throw in a preface that denotes whether the person is a male or female, and somebody’s official name could be a long string of words (curiously devoid of a family name), the most important of which remains their birth-order-name.

Kite Flying is Serious Business

Raise your eyes skyward at any time in Bali, and you’ll likely see a kite (or 20).

Flying a kite isn’t just for kids; there are some adults who devote themselves to the art of kite flying in Bali. (And why not – it’s a great way to recapture the delights of childhood). In fact, entire villages get together to build enormous kites (some over 600 feet long) for festivals, which happen a few times a year.

The crafting and flying of kites is done with great intention and ritual, and has religious significance. In fact, kite flying is actually considered a form of worship, and involves tales of folklore about a shepherd boy who was the darling of Shiva. Colours usually include the “holy trinity” (red for Brahma, white for Vishnu, and black for Shiva), in addition to yellow (for the eight gods of eight directions). The shapes and designs of the kites are equally symbolic.

For normal everyday kite flying, it is usually launched and then tied to something, so the kite remains airborne for hours if not days. There are even ones with solar lights that sparkle at night. Other kites have special contraptions attached to create a buzzing sound.

Beautiful as the practice of kite flying in Bali is, it’s also a tad dangerous. Kites have been known to take out power lines, and land on roads causing traffic problems and accidents. Apparently there’s a law against flying a kite within a six-mile radius of the airport, but whenever I flew in or out of Bali I saw them in the air on both sides of the runway!

Note: this propensity towards kite flying brought memories of Grenada right back.

Big Budget? Small Budget? Bali Has You Covered

Bali is a strange place when it comes to traveling budgets. Want to rent a villa for $200/month? No problem. Want to rent a villa for $1,000/night? No problem. You can chose either, or anything in between.

Kuta is one of the strangest places of them all when it comes to budget; it’s known as a cheap winter-getaway destination for Aussies, complete with dive bars and tacky tourist shops. But it’s also known for some of the priciest resorts and shopping centres. (You might recall that there’s no love lost on Kuta for me: Visiting Kuta – aka What Was I Thinking?!)

Similar price discrepancies apply to restaurants. I tended to use the price of nasi goreng (the national dish – fried rice) as a barometer for how expensive a restaurant was. If it cost 40,000 ($3) or less, it was a local place. Any more, and I knew I was either in a tourist trap, or a place that features higher quality (possibly organic) ingredients.

Although I’d like to say it’s as simple as ‘you get what you pay for’ in Bali, that wasn’t quite the case in my experience. Sometimes amenities weren’t in keeping with inflated prices or prestige. In other cases I was amazed at the value for a meal or accommodation. So, it’s important to define what you want, and what you’re willing to pay for it. If your expectations are remotely reasonable, you’ll likely find the perfect fit.

I’d like to give a special shout-out to the Grand Sehati & Spa in Ubud, where I spent my last week (which was supposed to be a month). You have no idea what a gem this centrally located place is until you walk in, and the noise of the street dissolves into a serene beautifully maintained square with a gorgeous pool, attentive staff, and brand new well-appointed rooms. I became friends with the owner, who, when I return, will take me to his home village, where I will recount his fascinating life story for you. If you have a medium-sized budget to stay in Ubud, I highly recommend you check this place out. Tell Wayan I sent you! (And take a tour of my room here in this Facebook Live video).

Bali Isn’t What it Once Was….or Is It???

Friends of mine who spent a lot of time in Bali (mostly around Ubud) 10 or so years ago bemoan how Bali isn’t what it once was, implying that the magic has gone.

I’ve heard similar things about Costa Rica. At one time it was an idyllic eco-destination. Then, because of that moniker, it attracted a lot of tourists and changed accordingly. So over time, Costa Rica “wasn’t what it once was”. Nicaragua became the ‘new Costa Rica’. Then, Honduras was the new Nicaragua.

The same applies to Thailand. Talk to somebody who was there in the 90s and they’ll tell you how it’s just not the same, with tones of both sadness and anger (and attitude) at what it has become.

I never saw the ‘old Bali’; I just saw what it is today. What I saw, was indeed a place incredibly dependent on tourism (which, given recent volcano dramas, stands to present big economical problems). But tourism to Bali has been happening since the 1930s – literally! After a few decades of world-famous artists taking up residence in Ubud and creating a buzz about the place, another even bigger wave of tourism came with hoards of backpackers in the 1970s. With only a few little blips on that screen, tourism has continued to grow unabated since then.

So, somebody who knew the Bali of 1920 might have looked at the Bali of 1940 and said ‘it’s just not the same’. The same sentiment could be expressed in 1980 by somebody who knew the 1965 Bali. So of course, somebody who knew Bali 10 years ago will say the same thing. To anybody who bemoans “what a place once was” – I say “pffft. Everything, everywhere, changes. The very fact that you visited that place means it changed. You are part of that change. So, get off your high horse and adapt.” (Is that harsh? That’s harsh, isn’t it. I feel a dedicated post brewing about this topic.)

What stood out for me about Bali, however, is encapsulated beautifully in a quote I read on a website that is no longer:

Ubud has managed to embrace the 21st century with dignity and still retain its timeless artistry, culture and religion. It is a significant destination blessed with a strong sense of community and rare spiritual energy.

And this….this is why people keep coming to Bali, and will continue to do so….myself included.

Things to do in Bali

There is sooooooo much to see and do in Bali! Check these tours out (and click on “more things to do”) to inspire your creative juices.

Related Posts about Bali

Campuhan Ridge Walk in Ubud

Visiting Kuta (aka What Was I Thinking?!)

Balinese Painting for the (not so) Artistically Inclined

Why I Evacuated Bali

Ubud Market: How to Negotiate

Canang Sari – The Ceremony of Life in Bali

My Monkey Forest Commute in Ubud

Balinese Cooking 101

This post Random Observations About Bali appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

While perusing the various local activities I could enjoy on the Withlocals website, I immediately gravitated towards taking a Balinese cooking class. (Lucky for me, Withlocals agreed to let me have it on the house – though I’d have spent the $35 for the half day course in a heartbeat).

Remember when I took a Balinese painting class with a super cool granddaddy artist named Putu? Well, I enjoyed hanging out with he and his family in their home so much, that I took the cooking class with his daughter and wife.

This post was originally published in 2017. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

I was also joined by a fellow student; a guy from Lebanon who was passing through the area and making the most of his two days in Ubud by taking multiple Withlocals tours. (I must say, if I were pressed for time, I’d likely do the same. I really like these “local tour” platforms; I used a similar one in Japan at Tsukiji Fish Market. 

Balinese Cooking Basics

Although there are many overlaps between Balinese and Indonesian cuisine, Bali has a few tricks up its sleeve with some intrinsically Balinese concoctions, built around a magical combination of spices found in most of their dishes.

The majority of the work is in the preparation; peeling, chopping, grinding, and such. After that, it all comes together pretty quickly. To make daily food preparation easier, a large amount of the spice mix (discussed below) is prepared and frozen in little baggies.

The Aromatics (Spices)

So what of these magical spices? I use combinations of many of these ingredients in much of my own cooking (which is usually of an Asian persuasion), but all together and done in the Balinese way, it produces a unique flavour. The mixture, which is usually ground into a pulp using a stone slab (a flat version of mortar and pestle) is made up of the following ingredients, the specific combination and amounts of which vary by family (everybody has their own “secret recipe”):

• turmeric
• shallots
• ginger
• spicy chili pepper
• red pepper (not spicy)
• coriander seeds
• ginger
• candlenut
• ginger flower
• lemongrass
• and finally, an ingredient that I’ve never seen before and that Yogi didn’t have an english name for, which was what I imagined would be born if a piece of galangal and lemongrass made love.

Mealtime in Bali: A Solo Affair

I grew up in a culture that values sharing meals together. However that’s not the way it’s done in Bali. The food for the day is prepared in the morning, and family members simply go into the kitchen and help themselves when hunger strikes. I found this a bit odd, given the emphasis that Asian culture in general puts on family. But indeed it seems to extend beyond Bali to other parts of Indonesia; I experienced a similar phenomenon while spending three weeks with some families in Jakarta.

Balinese Cooking: Not Just for Women

I was (pleasantly) surprised to discover that the men of Bali also cook. When there is a ceremony (which happens A LOT in Bali), the women are busy preparing the offerings, which means the men are responsible for preparing the food. It’s nice to know that Balinese men can whip up a nice meal as well, although I would guess that outside of ceremony days you won’t see them near the kitchen.

Balinese Cooking 101

Want to see all these magical ingredients come together to make soup, curry, salad, and satay? Then join me in taking this Balinese Cooking Class!

Click here to watch this video on YouTube.

Related Posts

Balinese Painting for the (Not So) Artistically Inclined (Vlog Ep. 22)

Touring Tsukiji Fish Market with a Local

Ubud Market

Canang Sari: The Ceremony of Life, in Bali

This post Balinese Cooking 101, Withlocals (Vlog Ep. 27) appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

Personally, I prefer my monkeys at arm’s length. As far as I’m concerned, most people who think monkeys are cute haven’t actually seen or interacted with them in person. If they had, they’d know that monkeys get into everything, steal your food, carry disease, and as such can actually be dangerous. I’ve had them nip at my heels in Nepal, and steal my breakfast in South Africa. And when you steal my breakfast, you declare war.

But this is a cute monkey video, and here at the Monkey Forest it’s all happy happy, so we won’t talk about that. (Or, maybe we will, just a little).

This post was originally published in 2017. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

The Sacred Monkey Forest in Ubud

Word on the street is that the Sacred Monkey Forest in Ubud was founded by an eccentric ol’ chap who loved monkeys (I couldn’t find anything online to substantiate that rumour).

What I do know is that it’s a big tourist attraction in Ubud, as well as home to three ancient sacred temples, parts of which outsiders can’t even visit unless they’re dressed accordingly and participating in the ceremony at hand.

The Forest is home to almost 700 Balinese long-tailed macaque (crab-eating macaque) monkeys, that live in troupes throughout the forest.

My Monkey Forest Commute

For my first month in Ubud, I stayed south of the Monkey Forest in a neighbourhood called Nyuh Kunung, which is lovely and quiet and a bit more “local”. In order to access the centre of Ubud, I had two options: walk along the roads for about an hour, or walk 20 minutes using a shortcut that runs beside the Monkey Forest. Of course, I took the Monkey Forest shortcut.

Given that I chose not to have a scooter in Bali, I did this journey on foot, along a narrow path that was mostly frequented by scooters. As such, it wasn’t the most enjoyable walk, although I must say, the monkeys were quite entertaining.

But people thought I was crazy for walking through the Monkey Forest like this. Rumour has it the monkeys have been acting up lately and have even attacked people, and outside of the forest there’s no keeper/attendant to keep them in line. (Even inside the forest, I recently read a social media posting by a girl who was bitten badly by one of the monkeys).

And although apparently all the monkeys are vaccinated against rabies and herpes, I don’t believe it’s failsafe, since the monkeys can come and go from the Monkey Forest Sanctuary as they like.

Ubud Monkey Forest Adventures (Vlog Ep. 26)

I’m pleased to report I fared my Monkey Forest commute without a hitch, and got nothing from them except some pretty cool pictures and videos. See for yourself! And if you enjoy this video, please do “like” it, and subscribe to my channel!

Click here to watch this video on YouTube.

Related Posts and Videos

How to Negotiate, in Ubud Market

Why I Evacuated From Bali

Balinese Painting for the (Not So) Artistically Inclined

Visiting Kuta in Bali (aka What Was I Thinking?!)

Campuhan Ridge Walk in Bali

This post My Monkey Forest Commute in Ubud (Vlog Ep. 26) appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

This post was originally published in 2017. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content.

My Introduction to Canang Sari

The morning after I arrived in Ubud, I needed to change some money. I walked into one money-changer. (Note: money-changers in Ubud are not to be confused with money-changers in Kuta, where I had a wildly different experience.) 

“Come back later, busy now” the shopkeeper said, somewhat curtly, while wearing a sarong, headscarf, and carrying a tray of what looked like flowers and incense.

I found another money changer, and stepped up to the window. The woman inside ignored me. She continued to ignore me for another 15 minutes, while I stood by and watched what I would later learn is a daily ritual Balinese ceremony called Canang Sari.

She held above her shoulder a round metal tray with burning incense and little palm leaf boats filled with colourful flowers and bits of rice, crackers, and candies. She strategically placed these little packets of joy around her place of business. With each placement, she dipped a frangipani flower in water and sprinkled the flower water around her offering. Taking great time and care, she continued the ritual until she had placed all her packets. Then she took off her sarong and belt (under which she was wearing pants) and with equal ceremony, folded them up and put them into a bag, which she stashed under her desk. She took a minute to gather herself, sit down, fix her hair, and then, eventually, still in no great hurry, she opened the window to attend to her first (bewildered and long-waiting) customer.

This being the first of many times I’d see Canang Sari in action, I had no idea what just happened, but I was surprised – pleasantly so, despite the inconvenience – that the performance of the Canang Sari ceremony superseded everything, even a waiting customer.

I later came to understand that the people of Bali prioritize their ceremonies over all else. And, that their calendar is full of ceremonies.

Canang Sari Basics

Do you remember how to pronounce Indonesian words starting with “c”, as learned on the Campuhan Ridge Walk? It’s pronounced like “ch”. So Canang Sari is pronounced like chan-ang sah-ree.

It is an offering of thanks and peace to the Hindu gods (85% of Balinese people are of the Balinese Hinduism persuasion). Much like spiritual rituals I’ve seen in other parts of the world, it hinges on the expression of gratitude not only for what we have, but also for what we want.

The components of Canang Sari are strategically chosen and precisely placed, according to the following basic directions and offerings to specific Hindu gods:

• White flowers pointing to the east are a symbol of Iswara
• Red flowers pointing to the south are a symbol of Brahma
• Yellow flowers pointing to the west are a symbol of Mahadeva
• Blue or green flowers pointing to the north are a symbol of Vishnu

Canang Sari is performed for different reasons, by different people in the family, at different times of day, and places, and days.

A few years ago, a friend (who knew Bali well) told me about a Balinese ritual that involves a certain day of the year when people “bless” all their appliances. I realized I’d happened upon that day in Bali myself, when I came down to the kitchen to make my morning coffee and saw Canang Sari offerings on the fridge and stove. I left the villa and saw that every car and scooter had also been adorned with Canang Sari. Although I thought it was a strange practice when my friend described it, I loved it when I saw it in action. Why not?! Perhaps you might even get your microwave to last a little longer with this little spiritual boost.

During my first month in Bali while staying at a villa owned by a Balinese family that lived right in front, one thing was certain: around 10am every morning, the grandmother of the house would come into the compound all dressed up, with her silver tray full of Canang Sari, and she would leave these offerings in various spots around the property.

When I was chatting with her son (the landlord), he said he doesn’t feel right about his day until she makes this offering. It sets him up energetically for the day.

Spirits and Black Magic

Although Balinese Hinduism is based on Hinduism from India and pays homage to various Hindu gods, there is also quiet attention paid to “spirits” of various natures (good, bad, and otherwise), and depending on who I talked to, I heard some mention of black magic.

Walk down the street and you’ll see Canang Sari on the sidewalks in front of businesses and temples everywhere. (Careful not to step on them! It’s bad luck). I had heard (but have been unable to substantiate with online research) that these ones left outside the front door are to distract bad spirits with candies and flowers so they don’t come inside. Other ones are left in equally strategic places to appease good spirits.

The villa landlord from my first month in Bali also shared with me some serious problems (such as a former illness of his, and even the death of his daughter) which he attributed to both past life bad karma, and black magic.

It left me feeling that Bali on the whole is a very spiritual – and mysterious – place; one that left me curious to learn more….and a bit scared at the same time. If anything, I was resolved not to piss anybody off and risk a spell coming my way.

Ceremonial Precedence

One of the things that stood out for me in Bali was the degree to which ceremony dictates everything. And there is almost always a ceremony. A few days after I arrived, the temple near my villa received visitors all day and night, delivering and offering Canang Sari. The week after it was the temple further down the street, honouring another Hindu god. The week after that was a multi-day ceremony that involved staying up all night for successive nights.

Businesses open, close, and operate around ceremonies, which are the first priority in Balinese culture. In the same way the money-changers were unwilling to take my business until they’d completed Canang Sari for the day – even if it cost them a sale.

Beautiful Bali

Canang Sari was one of many aspects of Bali that captured my heart and imagination. I loved how flowers are used, all the time. They’re liberally adorned on anything that needs beautifying, not the least of which are the prolific statues (some of which are also “dressed up” in their own sarongs).

Every day, the woman who ran the warung (local restaurant) near me lovingly changed the necklaces of bright orange flowers that each of the religious statues around the establishment wore. Even though the previous day’s flowers still looked lovely, it was only the best for these statues.

With such colours – a colourful Canang Sari, colourful sarongs, colourful flowers, and colourful people (inside and out), it’s no wonder that Bali attracts spiritual pilgrims from all over the world.

This post Canang Sari: The Ceremony of Life in Bali appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

“I don’t know how you do it,” he says, referring to my recent negotiation.

“You gotta have fun with it. It’s a game!” I reply.

Lucky for me, I learned the art of negotiation early on in my travels, and although I was a bit rusty when I set foot in Ubud market in Bali, I pulled it together pretty quickly and embraced the experience.

This post was originally published in 2017. It has since been updated for accuracy of links and content. 

Where is Ubud Market? (and Market Negotiation Tip #1)

Ubud Central Market – also known as Ubud Bali Art Market – is opposite the Royal Palace, basically at the corner of Jalan Raya Ubud and Jalan Monkey Forest (though it’s important to note it isn’t actually near the Ubud monkey forest itself).  Here’s a map to confuse you some more. 

But rest assured, accessing the Ubud market place isn’t terribly difficult; it’s on every local map, and anybody in the area can point you in the right direction. 

Ubud market opening hours are from 8am-5pm, though Balinese holidays (which are frequent) can wreak a bit of havoc with that. Again, ask around for the best day to go, and you’ll get all the info you need. 

As with many markets in Asia, the best time to go is in the morning. Not only do you stand a chance of beating some of the rush, but one of the key tricks to bargaining in Bali comes into play at the start of the day; the first sale of the day is considered an omen of coming good luck for the vendor, and thus they may be willing to discount prices a bit deeper than they will at other times of the day.   

Shopping in Ubud Art Market – Tips

Like many street markets (and perhaps even more so with this one), the Bali Ubud Market is chaotic, crowded, and it sprawls. I regularly turned a corner, thinking surely I’d come to a perimeter, only to discover yet another avenue packed with vendors.  I wandered aimlessly for a few hours, and I suspect I only covered a fraction of this crazy market. 

Though it might not seem apparent at first glance, it’s loosely organized into a few different markets in Ubud; one for art and handicrafts, an Ubud silver market with silver and other jewelry, and a food market with spices and various forms of produce. To keep things interesting (and disorienting!), there’s some spillover betwixt these sections. 

How do you barter in Bali? My advice in a market like this, is to go more than once. The first time, just wander. Get a lay of the land. Figure out what’s for sale, and where, and how much of it there is (there’s a lot of the same stuff for sale at different stalls). 

It’s also good to get a basic idea of how much things cost. Ubud market prices are moving targets – at best.

The problem is, when you ask for a price, that’s a cue to the vendor to launch into a full negotiation. So the trick is to ask for the price – as non-committally as possible, acting very disinterested in the item! Then, walk away. Don’t engage. They’ll likely drop their price right away and/or ask you to give your price. Say you don’t have any money right now and keep walking. Your first trip into this Balinese market is for reconnaissance. 

Perfect example: when I was shopping at Ubud market, there were so many sarongs. And they were all beautiful! Towards the beginning of my market excursion, I bought one at what I thought was a great price after employing my best tips for how to barter in Bali…..only to turn a corner with my new sarong in hand and have another vendor open with a price lower than what I had just paid. (Here’s another bargaining tip: once you’ve bought your thing, stop looking at similar items and asking for prices; it only leads to heartache)!

Had I just wandered through the market to learn Ubud market prices first, I would have been able to establish a reasonable cost for a sarong and gotten a better deal. 

How to Bargain in Bali

One of the things I appreciate the most about the Ubud market (and shopping/negotiating in Bali in general), is the humour and fun with which business is conducted. Negotiating is truly a game. It goes kind of like this:

• “How much is this?” I ask.
• “X” they reply.
• My eyes widen and I feign some sort of comical exaggerated pain.
• They ask me to suggest a price.
• “My price is so low, I can’t tell you. You will be upset with me.”
• They laugh and urge me again to name my price.
• Depending on the item and what I think it’s worth (or am willing to pay), I name a ridiculously low price, usually about 25% of the asking price.
• Now it’s the vendor’s chance to widen their eyes and feign exaggerated pain.

With this, we both smile and laugh, and the game is on.

Back and forth we go, each stating our case. The vendor explains why it’s worth so much more than my offer. I explain why I simply can’t pay what they’re asking. Every time they inch down in price, I thank them for the wonderful deal they are giving me, but say that it is still too expensive for me. Every time I inch up in my offer they continue to tell me it’s not enough, but they respond with a further discount.

The trick is to express interest in the item at hand, but not to actually be too attached. Before the negotiations begin, set a price in your mind for what it’s worth to you. Start with a price well below that, and work your way up to your final price. If you both can’t agree on it, walk away. If the vendor chases after you with another “final” price, you’ll know they had more wiggle room. If they let you walk away, you know that your price was simply too low. You can decide if you’re willing to return later with a higher offer.

And remember, in a place like Ubud market, there’s probably another half a dozen stores where you can buy that exact same trinket. So if your negotiations fail the first time around, find another vendor with the same item and try again. It’s fun, and a cultural expectation.

An ethical note about negotiation:

In many cultures and societies, negotiation is part of the fabric of commerce. In places like Bali, just about everything is negotiable; negotiation is expected, and vendors inflate their asking prices accordingly.

If you, with your western sensibilities, come into a market and pay the asking prices (because it’s still a steal for you, or because you think you’re helping somebody by knowingly paying more), believe it or not, you could be playing a part in crippling that country’s entire economy. You might think you’re helping that person, but in fact, I believe you’re hurting the bigger picture.

Read this article for more on this idea: How Tourists Unwittingly Cripple Local Economies.

Watch the Ubud Markets in Action (and How to Haggle in Bali)

The central market in Ubud is near the Royal Palace and is a maze of vendors selling everything from keychains to clothes, sarongs to statues, carvings to kites.

Watch this video to get in on the action, including a nail-biting negotiation with one of the vendors, and lots of penises. Seriously. You gotta watch.

Click here to watch on YouTube.

Related Posts

Balinese Painting for the (Not So) Artistically Inclined
Visiting Kuta in Bali (aka What was I Thinking?!)
Campuhan Ridge Walk in Bali
Balinese Cooking 101

This post Ubud Market: How to Negotiate (Vlog Ep. 25) appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

“So…how do you know Tony, again?” asked my hosts – and perfect strangers – John and Layla, who had generously given me a place to stay in their Jakarta home when I evacuated from Bali.

“Well….Tony [John’s best friend, who was out of town at the moment and had called on John for a favour to put me up] has a sister in Canada, Lesley. Lesley is married to Ian. Ian has a step-child, Maureen, from a previous marriage. She’s my friend.”

“So…you’re not related in any way.”

“Nope.” There were probably fewer degrees of separation between us and Kevin Bacon. This game of six degrees took a while for us all to wrap our heads around, but thankfully John and Layla took it all in stride and were very gracious interim hosts, until Tony and his family returned (Tony also being a perfect stranger but with one less degree of separation from me; at least he knew who all these people were).

Because after all, I was a refugee of sorts, evacuated from Bali.

I shot this video while taking a break from packing my bags after deciding it was time I evacuated from Bali. It was a tough decision, as you’ll see. Click here to watch on YouTube.

Why I Evacuated From Bali

A week after I returned to Bali from my Hong Kong trip, I evacuated. I didn’t have to. And I certainly didn’t want to. So here’s why I did.

Mount Agung is a huge volcano (“Agung” in Balinese means “big one”) that started going off the seismic charts the week I returned to Bali. Every day the caution levels increased, as did the number of people in the 12km radius who needed to be evacuated from their homes and relocated to shelters and community centres – over 70,000 in total. Although nobody could say for sure, it seemed to be not a matter of if the volcano would blow, but when.

I wasn’t in immediate life-threatening danger in Ubud 30km away, but there was sure to be ash fall, potentially of a significant nature. A friend of a friend who survived Mount Agung’s last eruption in 1963 (killing over 1,000 people) said over a foot of ash fell in Ubud.

Initially I wasn’t concerned about ash fall, until learned there could be over a foot of it, at which point I started researching. With the pervasiveness of smoke, volcanic ash gets everywhere, and is comprised of tiny jagged pieces of glass (pulverized lava), laced with sulphur and cyanide. All in all, it’s a toxic cocktail that is hard on both lungs and electronics. It grounds airplanes (for up to weeks at a time), and I had no idea what it would do to my computer and phone, but I wasn’t eager to find out.

An ash fall event requires you to stay indoors in a tightly sealed dwelling (virtually non-existent in Bali) for a few days. You get advance notice of minutes to hours from the moment of eruption to the beginning of the ash fall. So although I was relatively prepared in my (somewhat-but-not-really airtight) room with food and water and an air mask, there was no guarantee I’d be close enough to my room to get there when it started.

Then there would be the cleanup phase, which would surely stir the ash up again. If we would be lucky enough to get rain it would take the ash out of the air, but would also turn the fallen ash into the equivalent of cement, likely collapsing roofs.

All in all, it was not a pretty picture, and I wasn’t interested in learning through experience what the long-term health effects of surviving an ash fall were, much less putting my electronics at risk of being destroyed, and possibly missing my onward flights from Bali to India in a few weeks.

All this is to say nothing of the hundreds of daily earthquakes and tremors, which did nothing but escalate in the week leading up to when I evacuated from Bali. Although I didn’t fear the earthquakes per se, the constant tremors left me perpetually nauseous and off-centre.

Why Nobody Else I Knew Evacuated From Bali

Much as the picture above seems pretty grim, I wasn’t part of a mass exodus from the island. In fact, in Ubud, it was business as usual.

The locals were mildly concerned, but largely unfazed and I suspect in denial. These are the responses I got from locals:

“We are Balinese. This is our land. It will be what it will be.”

“I gave an offering this morning to Mount Agung. I am praying. It will be okay.”

“Have I prepared? No. What would I do?”

This last response was of particular concern to me. What to do? How about set yourself up with food and water? Perhaps buy a face mask to filter out ash? Fill up your car/scooter with gas? I dunno….something?

The expats I spoke to were mixed. Some were a bit panicky. Others were resolved.

“We don’t know if the volcano will erupt today, or tomorrow, or months from now. Or maybe never. I can’t uproot my life and be evacuated from Bali and spend all that money based on probabilities and unknowns.”

“The winds were blowing in a different direction in 1963. I think we’ll be fine; the stuff you’re reading is fear-mongering.”

“I’m scared. But I’ve done all I can do. Now I just wait.”

“Nobody else is leaving. The locals don’t seem concerned. I’m taking my lead from them.”

“I like to live dangerously.”

Tourism Continues Unabated

I didn’t speak to many tourists before I evacuated from Bali, but given that they were doing their touristy things, I surmised that they too, were unconcerned. This was in part due to the gargantuan efforts on the part of the Balinese Tourism Department to encourage tourists not to alter their plans. Because Bali derives the majority of its income from tourism, they simply can’t afford to shut down the island – an island with 70,000 refugees just outside of the tourist towns, mind you – based on a prediction that the volcano would blow at some undetermined point in time.

Sitting in Jakarta on Thursday September 28^th, two days after I evacuated from Bali, I read this article which shows the Bali Government Tourism Office in an almost desperate ploy to reassure the world that tourism to Bali is safe.

They show copies of letters issued by this office. In one letter, addressed “Dear People of the World”, dated Sept 27^th, the director mentions that Mount Agung is 32 km away from Ubud centre (which is the closest heavily-touristed town to the volcano). In another letter issued by the very same office on the very same day, they say Ubud is 51 km away (which is also technically correct if you take the indirect roads. But lava and ash don’t travel via the roads). To me, it reeks of downplaying, because Bali would be terribly hurt economically by a drop in tourism.

On September 29^th, despite nothing but increased volcanic activity, the director had the audacity to call for the volcano alert level to be lowered, due to concerns about tourism to Bali over the Christmas holidays.

This seems to me a very dangerous game of tourist-roulette to be playing. Perhaps they’re playing the odds? Or…

Perhaps I Overreacted.

I didn’t have to evacuate. But because I had friends of friends (of friends) near Jakarta who were willing to put me up, and because Jakarta was where I had to catch a flight to my next destination, I decided to bail.

I had nothing to prove in staying.

And I was living day to day and moment to moment, wondering if today would be the day, and trying not to be too far from my room just in case.

I was nauseous from the constant tremors.

I was nervous about keeping my electronics protected; a potential loss of thousands of dollars if they stopped working, much less a significant disruption in my work.

And with each day the volcano didn’t blow, it increased my chances of missing my onward trip to India with an eruption close to my departure date.

The stress of it all, along with the potential downsides of staying, made leaving a logical – but still difficult – decision.

I’ve survived a few natural disasters already in the last 11 years of world travel. I’d rather not add another to the mix.

It’s also worth noting that Bali has done everything they can to ensure tourists will be okay if/when the volcano erupts. Ferries are waiting to evacuate tourists to neighbouring islands to fly out. Bali has assured the world they will extend visas and provide accommodation should tourists be stranded on Bali.

2 Weeks Later….

Nothing has happened.

The volcano remains on the highest alert conditions, and could erupt at any minute. Bali continues to be in a state of emergency. This could honestly go on for months, or even years.

Of the 70,000+ people who are still evacuated and living in refugee camps, 10,000 are now sick.

Bali tourism is hurting.

I had an email conversation with an expat who continues to remain in Ubud. He couldn’t understand why I left, so I explained my understanding of the ash fall from 1963 (heck – ash fell as far away as Jakarta!!) and the general hazards of ash. He had no idea.

I wonder just how many other people have no idea….for better or worse.

Will I return to Bali? You betcha. In the coming weeks, please enjoy a series of articles and vlogs about my experiences there.

I cut short quite a few plans when I evacuated from Bali. I have unfinished business.

In the meantime, I pray for the people and the land of Bali, that they are safe at the foot of this big and powerful volcano.

This post Why I Evacuated From Bali (Vlog, Ep. 24) appeared first on The Professional Hobo. Please click through to read it in full!

A painter I am not. But I didn’t let that stop me from taking a Balinese painting class with a local (and well-known) artist in Ubud.

A painter I am not. (This bears repeating). Of the four artistic modalities, I excel at the other three (drama, music, dancing). But the visual arts has always escaped me. I’m simply unable to conjure up something from the depths of my imagination and visually bring it to life. Growing up, I envied doodlers. I couldn’t even do that.

A few years ago I explained this to some friends of mine in Australia.

“Nonsense!” They said, and whipped out some play dough. “Make something – whatever comes to mind. Let your creative genius shine.” they said.

As we all sat there with our chunks of play dough, I focused on my blob. I wanted to allow the sculpture within my blob to shine. So I moulded my blob into another blob. Twenty minutes later I presented my creation.

My friends had been busy making little flowers, and people, and balls and squares. Their eyes widened when they saw my blob. Too embarrassed to admit that I was right (I’m a talentless hack when it comes to visual arts), they said “well….it’s….it….it just needs a little….” and proceeded to try to make my blob into something that was at least somewhat aesthetically appealing. Not long after they gave up, and we never spoke of it again.

So why on earth would I take a Balinese painting class, you might ask?

Yeah. Well, two reasons.

Ubud is the artistic and cultural centre of Bali, and as such, I wanted to immerse myself in all that Ubud has to offer. Tourism to Bali actually started back in the 1930’s when a string of famous artists and performers started arriving. People such as Walter Spies, Willem Hofker, Rudolf Bonner, Charlie Chaplin, Noel Coward, Barbara Hutton, H.G. Wells, Vicki Baum, and Arie Smit all helped to define Bali as a place of artistic pursuit. Given this long-standing history of Bali inspiring great artists, I thought Bali could inspire me too.

Secondly, you may recall from my experience visiting Tsukiji Fish Market in Tokyo that I’m a fan of using local tour guides. So when I arrived in Bali, I browsed the many experiences I could do on Withlocals, and for some inexplicable reason, this Balinese painting class jumped out at me.

I’ve long known about Withlocals, and I was delighted when they agreed to offer me a couple of tours for free. Although I appreciated the savings, the truth is it’s negligible – these kinds of tours with local folk are generally very inexpensive to begin with. This half-day Balinese painting class, for example, costs 30 Euros and includes all the supplies to produce (and keep) my own painting, as well as lunch.

My Balinese Painting Teacher

Putu could not have been a more genial and supportive teacher. As an icebreaker, I asked him some questions about his family compound, where we were seated.

“How many children do you have?”

“Five, but my last child is the most special to me,” he replied. This surprised me; most parents don’t express such blatant favouritism. When I enquired further, he delved into a long story of how his last son (who is four years old, and was born to he and his wife long after you’d surmise their child-bearing years had ended) was actually a reincarnation of his father, who had died very shorty before their conception. I was enraptured, and by the end I was a believer too, as we watched his son laugh and run around the compound like he built the place (as Putu’s father had done).

We discussed how earning a living as an artist in Bali has changed over the years. Putu is less busy creating art to sell to tourists and locals (something that was big business in the 80’s and 90’s), and much busier creating art and carvings and sculptures for local religious ceremonies of all kinds.

For Putu, art is a way of life, not a modality. When he needs to paint, he paints. When he needs to carve, he carves. And when he needs to pick flowers or plant rice, he does that. To him, everything is art.

Somehow in relating all of this, he made me feel much better about my own ability – or lack thereof – to be artistic. He made me feel like the very act of breathing was art.

Balinese Painting – Philosophy

What attracted me to this Balinese painting class was the idea that there is an entire philosophy behind the act, and I wanted to learn more about it.

Watch the video to see Putu describe the four stages of creating art in the Balinese way, but here they are in short:

1. The Sketch: speaking with your compass. Outlining your sketch is like chatting with your friends. And when you speak in this fashion, you’re figuring out what you mean to say as you talk. It’s kind of like talking shit with your friends. (Putu didn’t say it this way, obviously….but I’m pretty sure that’s what he meant).
2. The Lines: clarify what you’re saying. While the sketch might be full of fuzzy pencil lines as your idea takes shape, now is the time to make sure you really know what you’re saying. Using charcoal dissolved in water and a pointy bamboo pencil-brush, it’s time to commit and draw some real lines. (This stage was terrifying for me; apparently I prefer just talking shit).
3. Shading: what’s important? The shading process is your chance to make your thought three-dimensional, and to highlight the points you really want to drive home.
4. Colour: personality, details. Colouring in your creation adds your own personal flair, and further fills in the details.
5. (Bonus Stage): Fixing it. This stage involves getting Putu to add some touches to make my painting look like something I don’t immediately want to burn.

Balinese Painting (Vlog Ep. 22)

Meet Putu in this fun video, and watch me create a not-so-wretched piece of art in the Balinese painting tradition!

Click here to watch this on YouTube

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