Something in the Air
They’re always at it at Ubud, or so it
seems; thinking about navel engagements, that is. A delightful piece by Marie
Bee in the latest edition of La Gazette de Bali – the great French language
monthly journal for the Francophone community – discusses what one can do when
it is the saison des pluies and going out invariably involves getting wet.
Bee, who is La Gazette’s Ubud scribbler, suggests that the answer is to
study the Indonesian language rather than get out your poncho and rubber boots.
And that seems fair enough to a dilettante like your diarist. Mlle Bee’s busy
little voyage of discovery this time relates to the invisibility of the penis
in the Indonesian-French dictionary of 1980 and its discovery (as an item of
lexicographical interest at least) by 2001.
These days, of course, they are ubiquitous in Bali. You can even open
bottles with them, though why you’d want to is quite another thing.
Anyone who reads French should definitely catch up with Mlle Bee’s
engaging discourse in La Gazette. It
piques several of the senses. Among other observations, she notes that elements
of the search for the lost penis would certainly have interested Proust. It’s
on page 30 of the current edition and is headed En Quête du Pénis
Perdu (it sounds much better in French, doesn’t it?).
These are literary matters. And on that topic there’s a couple of
interesting writers’ workshops on the books in Ubud. The first is a course,
Write for Your Life, being held from February 5-11 with the participation of
American penman Jeremiah Abrams. Details are available at www.writeforyourlife.posterous.com.
The second is the work of Australian Jade Richardson, who should by now
be well known to Diary readers, since she keeps popping up with revealing
ideas.
She’s offering four short courses for aspiring scribblers in February
and March, under the broad subject heading Write Like an Angel: Creative
Turbo-Boost is designed to inspire and energise beginners, blocked writers,
stuck novelists, lazy poets and cathartic free-writers who want to learn
finesse; Advanced Creative Writing in which participants will explore their own
work for signs of genius; Travel Writing, for people who want to turn their
notes, insights and adventures into travel stories fit for publication; and
Erotica, where we assume the cerebral side of sex will get an outing.
If
you’re interested, contact Jade at passionfruitcowgirl@rocketmail.com
or by phone on 0958 5727 0858.
Surf’s Up
A friendly wave is certainly a
long-standing part of Bali’s culture – along with the odd unfriendly one – and
no more so than on the surfing scene, an invention (like so much else) of the
faraway 1960s when the first waves of young riders appeared, appropriately from
overseas.
A whole industry has grown up from the first sprouts of mass foreign
interest in the island and its culture planted by young people – like Hector,
these pioneers were young in the 1960s – who flocked here to ride waves on bits
of wood (they are now mostly artificial material).
So the next exhibition at Ganesha Gallery (Four Seasons Jimbaran) is of
particular interest. It features the work of Olli Fraenkel, the German
aficionado of all things Bali. Like many others, he was attracted here by the
surf and kept here by his fascination with the Balinese culture that he found
when he wasn’t at the beach.
His exhibition, entitled The 3-Dimensions of Asie.one, demonstrates his
power as an artist of graffiti –Asie.one is his tag – and reminds us all, old
fogeys and others, that art is a very broad church indeed and that the
Renaissance painters, for example, were often the rebels of their era.
Fraenkel’s exhibition opens on February 9. It’s not to be missed.
By happenstance Hector will be able a day or so later also to see the
Bergamo collection (of originally outré and subversive Renaissance art) at the
Australian National Gallery in Canberra. It is an opportunity not to be missed
on a rare visit to the Australian capital.
Hey, Sucker!
A friend got a really interesting email the
other day, from something called the Thailand Internet Lottery Organization of
88C Phetchamnork Avenue, Bangkok, Thailand. Director General Shompoo Prachapor
sent his fonds regards – no, that’s not a misprint – and advised that the email
address in question had drawn a prize of US$1,068,000.00 as one of two winners
of the jackpot in the fifth category.
Our friend was advised to contact lottery coordinator Prawatt Wensat,
providing personal details etc (surprise!), to claim the money. Mr Wensat was
expecting this response by the 30th of next month. Oh dear. February usually
ends on the 28th though this year – apparently it’s supposed to be a Leap of
Faith year – it stretches to the 29th. What a shame that’s still one day short
of the notional deadline for the notional funds.
Incidentally, shortly after this our friend got a much more interesting email.
It came, it said, from the second wife – surely that should now be second widow
– of the late and unlamented Libyan leader Muammar Muhammad Abu
Minyar Gaddafi. It offered to send US$40 million for investment and
safekeeping because otherwise those who think unkindly of her hubby might seize
the funds.
This pitch was no surprise. What was a little surprising was the claim
by Safia Farkash al-Baraasi, the said second widow, that she had found our
friend’s contact details in Colonel Gaddafi’s email address list.
There You Go
One joy of the modern age – there are a
few: digital music and books among them – is that you can keep abreast of your
interests, of whatever provenance and in a timely way, and of the people who
provide this essential life-preserving service. The Diary is a great fan of
Sarah Crompton at the Daily Telegraph newspaper in the UK, for example. She
writes a weekly email – you have to be on the DT’s list to get it – that is
just as eclectic as she. In the fine newspaper for which she scribbles,
Crompton writes about art, film and other cerebral matters; and she writes a
sports column too.
In one recent weekly email –
apart from reminding the Diary that leaving was a mixed blessing, by reference
to all manner of things that could be enjoyed were it not for the fact that
London got a goodbye wave in 1969 – Crompton noted that she loved an odd fact
(don’t we all?) and mentioned a couple.
Did
you know that carrots – which as wortel are an important element of Indonesian
cuisine – were originally purple and were turned orange by genetically
manipulative Dutch growers to secretly show their support for William of Orange,
the Protestant princeling who was instrumental in chucking the Papist Spaniards
out of the Low Countries? Neither did Crompton; nor your diarist.
But her favourite fact for that particular week was that the Alsatian
film star Rin Tin Tin – a dog, not a Deutsch-Lautsprecher from the west bank of
the middle Rhine – died in the arms of
the Hollywood star Jean Harlow.
It surely cannot have been after this sad event that she famously said,
“When you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas.” But Harlow – who as we
say in today’s tediously socially aware language was “sexually active” – was
certainly no dummy, blonde or not. She also noted: “No one ever expects a great
lay to pay all the bills.”
Keep Jogging
Lombok Hash, the fun running group of which
Walter Jamieson of Windy Beach Resort – and originally from the Shetlands,
magic islands off the north of Scotland whose inhabitants are more Norse than
kilted caber-tossers – is a leading light of very long standing, celebrated a
milestone on January 20. Its regular run that day was on the 27th anniversary
of its first ever event and was held in the same area – scenic Batu Layar just
south of Senggigi.
Holey Cake
We are indebted to something called
WhatsNewBali.com, which alleges it has “The Most Complete Events and Listings
in Bali!” – the initial capitals and the exclamation mark are apparently
important – for a delicious little heads-up on the plush afternoon tea for
those with fat wallets who fancy dropping in at the St Regis in Nusa Dua.
It says, of this extravagance, that the Classic Afternoon Tea on offer
at that establishment is born of a distinctive legacy, since afternoon tea was
a hollowed tradition at the original St. Regis New York.
Pun Run
Hector has an old and dear friend, a former
Australian senator who now lives in what passes for retirement (Stan is an
active chap) in the delightful hinterland of Queensland’s Sunshine Coast. In idle moments, he – like Hector – loves a
pun. And the other day, being a fine fellow, he sent along a small compendium
of them.
Several had instant appeal. But this one, for some reason, struck your
diarist as being particularly apt in present circumstances hereabouts.
Here it is:
An
anthropologist was recording folk remedies with the assistance of an Amazonian tribal
elder who indicated that the leaves of a particular fern were a sure cure
for any case of constipation. When the anthropologist expressed doubts about
this – apparently in South America it is important to be quizzical rather than
gullible – the elder looked him in the eye and said:
“Let
me tell you, with fronds like these, you don't need enemas.”
Hector's Diary is in the print edition of the Bali Advertiser, out every second Wednesday, and on the newspaper's website
http://www.baliadvertiser.biz/ . Hector is on Twitter (@ Scratchings) and Facebook: Hector McSquawky at http://facebook.com/
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