Bali Beginnings: Asia meets Latin America

A testament to how beautiful Bali is: the guy behind me on the plane flying in couldn’t snap enough photos. It sounded like a fashion shoot was happening behind my seat!

First impression: Bali felt like Asia meets Mexico. The bright orange roofs of dwellings around the airport were spread out, unlike the crowded scene that greets visitors to most other SE Asian countries. The 4-sided pyramids that top each building are without the flair of Thailand. Instead subtle embellishments bedecked the apex and each of the corners.

I walked out the front doors of the 1980’s-esque international airport and into the sweltering parking lot of a California shopping center. Terracotta tiles covered the strip-mall of storefronts and palm trees sprouted up from islands in the asphalt. Our Taksi (taxi) followed the narrow, winding, cobblestone alleyways beneath tropical flora. In the afternoon light, it felt vaguely European.

Lining the roadside were ornate bamboo poles, decorated, bent over at the top forming half arches above the street. From the top of each dangled a large decoration. It looked vaguely as if a giant had gone fishing and caught an elaborate kite. The stonework that decorated nearly every building fascinated me. The curls, flowers, demons, and gods looked crisp and alive and ancient all at the same time. I would later learn the fetching pyramid roofs of straw that I saw every couple-hundred feet were temples.

In my head I wished a melancholy goodbye to the honk-free Thailand at the first major-intersection we encountered. I thought fondly of New Zealand upon seeing my first roadside exclamation point and laughed at the crosswalk figures that look more like gorillas than humans.

We hopped on a bemo — basically a beat-up Japanese mini-van turned local transport — and headed directly up to the mountains. We stopped often for various passengers, including a mother and her sweaty, dirty little kid. After swapping smiles, I contemplated the different experience afforded by the bemo. For me, there’s something to be said for letting oneself float down the river of experience in a new place. Riding in the bemo means letting our day be connect to the pace of many locals and allows us to see a side of Bali life that many tourists don’t.

As the crisp, mountain air wafted in through the windows, I reflected gratefully on the switch back to the Roman alphabet instead of Thai/Lao/Cambodian characters. “Yup,” I said to myself, “I think I’m going to like this place.” ♣

A small facebook album with a few more photos is here.

Photo credit link: fishing-pole-kite.