HECTOR'S DIARY The Bali Advertiser (August 24, 2011)

A Temporary Sea Change

The Cage at Ungasan, from where the Diary is generally contributed, has a delightful sea view. It’s a panorama that is always missed when we are absent and gratefully enjoyed upon return. But this Diary is being written against the soothing backdrop of a very different sea view, equally delightful even though the water is frigid. It is Hector’s childhood summer holiday view, from the little bit of the Scottish borders that is as well the ancestral home. As we write, on a chill summer afternoon, the Fife coast 60 kilometres away across the Firth of Forth is clearly visible and beyond that, distantly blue, are the hills of Angus. And but for the beautiful folds of the Lammermuir Hills, we fancy, we might even have chanced a glimpse of the faraway Grampians.
     All this is of course peripheral to the Bali scene, to which – after a forthcoming sojourn in Budapest – we shall soon return refreshed, rested, made robust by a renewed stock of memories, and anxious to get back into the joys of living in Bali, our chosen home.
     It is 24 years since we were last here, 40 since we departed for a new life in Australia, and half a century since the last of the regular summer holidays spent fossicking about the stones and boulders of little windswept beaches, freezing in the North Sea breakers, mucking about in boats at our little harbour, and drinking in the rustling, rushing spirituality of the forested ravines of our local stream (a burn hereabouts, and utterly unpolluted) wherein lie occasional trout and the chance of an otter sighting. 
    It is peaceful, this little corner, and warms the heart. Lives long ago made new by emigration are generally better than those that might have been lived at home, but the migrant always feels some sense of loss in the leaving – it would be dull and wrong not to – and a rare return, while a joy, is also perversely, a renewal of sadness. You get on with life, of course, and are forever grateful for the opportunities presented by an adopted homeland. But it’s never the same and in gaining much you know in your heart that you have lost a lot.

Lives Celebrated

This visit to the old country was prompted by a family occasion, to which people – siblings and their spouses – came from places scattered around the globe to join their cousins and others in celebrating, with a surviving brother, the lives of another son of the Borders and his wife, our father and mother.
    There was a little ceremony, informal of course and not specifically religious but one with which a Balinese might find particular empathy, to scatter the ashes of father and mother in the sea. A cousin played a lovely lament among the rocks and a toast was drunk – in whisky for the father, champagne for the mother – and some little speeches made.
    Prior to this, a plaque was dedicated to their memory in the local kirk. Later that day a spirited cèilidh was held at which much food and drink was consumed and plenty of loud music played.
     The weekend by chance was that of the annual village flower show. The flowers were nice but the scones were even better. There was a full moon that night and a clear sky rewarded us with a silver pathway across the water from the headland far off to the east right into the wavelets rippling in to the shore beneath the cliff at the bottom of the garden. Nature came to the party too.

A Long Lunch

The celebratory weekend wound up with a long, late lunch at The Creel, a justifiably renowned restaurant in neighbouring Dunbar. It’s down near the harbour, set away in a sunny little side street, and is itself blessed by association with celebrity chef Rick Stein. That’s not why we were there. We went for the assiette of Inverlochy smoked salmon, local dressed white crab meat and prawns served with dressed baby potato salad, spicy tomato and red onion salad.
    Well, that wasn’t all. The main course offered braised belly of pork, iron skillet seared Gigot steak of Borders lamb and roasted breast of chicken served with creamy crushed potatoes, mélange of fresh vegetables, salsa verde and cranberry jus.
    If you had room afterwards (we did) you could choose between classic vanilla bean panna cotta with macerated raspberries and Creel marble slate duo of cheeses with homemade stem ginger and garden vegetable preserve.  Coffee and homemade chocolates followed. Yum!

Two Hectors

The family memorial weekend and several days following were spent at a cousin’s house (though we lodged for the week next door in a weekender rented at mate’s rates for the occasion) and were slightly confusing for two of those present – Hector the diarist and Hector the cat.
    Hector the cat is a fine tabby of considerable vintage. In cat years, senior even to superannuated diarists who hide behind sulphur crested cockatoo masks. An accommodation was attained, however.  Hector the diarist agreed not to spend his day dashing in and out of the cat doors. And Hector the cat (eventually) conceded there was little point in acting the scaredy-cat since Hector the diarist is a lifelong cat softie. 
    There remained a few confusions, however. It can get ugly when cat and cockatoo respond in synch to food calls and the like.

What a Pest

It is often said that every cloud has a silver lining. Unfortunately the reverse is also true. We made our way from Bali to Scotland via an overnight stop in Budapest, Hungary – to which we returned afterwards – but, clearly in error, chose to do so via Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. These are the people who hold world ranking as specialists in losing people’s luggage.
    One of our two cases managed to join us in Budapest. The other, at time of writing, was still AWOL. Fortunately none of the items on our Scottish schedule – which included a day in Edinburgh where the International Festival is in full swing and the book festival that runs with it was our primary interest – required anything like a full dress-up.
    Edinburgh’s annual festival is a fixture on the global calendar. It is tempting to consider making it such in our own. This year, aside from a programme of classical music performances that make you weep with delight just from thinking about them, Ravi Shankar was performing.  The book festival speaks for itself. And the concurrent Festival of Spirituality and Peace features two performance events it would have been good to see:

    Tenchi Shinmei: The Ocean, by Ensemble Rivelta, Japanese masters of the Shakuhachi (bamboo vertical flute) and Koto (Japanese lyre), which presented melodies from ancient Japanese to modern Spanish tango. Tenchi Shinmei: The Mountain featured Tokara, one of the most versatile taiko drumming groups to emerge from the mountains of Nagano, which presented powerful and jazzy rhythms and was headed by Art Lee, the only non-Japanese ever to win Grand Champion at the Tokyo International Okaido Championships.
    Still, back on the prosaic front, it would have been nice to have a change of shoes to hand, so to speak. Not to mention a wider selection of socks and underwear, or even a shirt. And we won’t even mention the matter of access to the minor compendium of medicines with which most modern post-middle-agers attempt to regulate, or at least to ward off, the ravages of time.

Shame to Miss It

Well, it is the Rock Bar, so it’s not surprising that music of that nowadays broad genre is frequently heard at that cliff-side location in Jimbaran along with the exquisite (and other) tweeting of the establishment’s well-heeled clientele.
     Nonetheless, and despite the fact that your diarist was enjoying badly behaved music long before punks were born, let alone imagined that they had invented musical invective, the soft punk performances of Superman is Dead are a favourite.

    It is therefore a pity that the only Indonesian band on American Billboard chose to have both its sixteenth birthday and a magical unplugged performance at the Rock Bar at Ayana in our absence.  Their scheduled ticket-only gig was on August 18, the day after Independence Day.

Hector's Diary appears in the Bali Advertiser, published every fortnight, and on the newspaper's website www.baliadvertiser.biz.

HECTOR'S DIARY The Bali Advertiser (August 10, 2011)

Life’s a Breeze in Ubud

We like to drop in on Ubud now and again – it’s such fun to be in a place where nearly everyone else seems to be dropping out – and we were there one weekend recently, staying at Bali Breezes, an establishment not previously experienced but, under the watchful eye of Pak Ketut helped out by Pak Nyoman and Ni Nyoman, is a delightful pension-style accommodation that offers stand-alone villas, some with swimming pools, at very reasonable rates. It was the first time we’d stayed at the Pengosetan end of town and we were pleasantly surprised to find Jl Pengosetan itself a resort for those seeking both retail therapy and comfortable digs.

    Among the nearby pleasures is the ARMA museum and gallery and of course ARMA Café, where the espresso is first class and – on a very cool and blowy afternoon – the potato soup is a must.
    Ubud was buzzing with tourists and (unfortunately) awash with huge buses that would block a German autobahn, never mind an Ubud street. Why such monsters are allowed anywhere near a narrow defile is one of the many mysteries of Balinese public policy.
    But never mind.  The Hectormobile, a venerable Feroza who answers to the name Francesca, or informally Franny, manages to squeeze into – and through – many small spaces that alarm both visiting passengers and Mrs Hector. Having learned to drive in London and honed these skills with exposure to the delights of such European traffic-friendly megacities as Rome and Paris, Hector finds Bali’s traffic problems placed in a very reasonable perspective; we’d  choose Simpang Siur over Trafalgar Square any time and tiny Ubud is a doddle compared with Barcelona on a busy day. Australians who intone “Sheeze!” at our traffic should remember that at home they have the privilege of driving conditions that if they only knew it are the envy of the world.

Oh, Yum!

We dined one Ubud night at Café des Artistes in Jl Bisma. It’s not to be missed, and not only because of its commodious off-street parking. The cheese and fruit platter from the dessert menu as an entree shared by three was a delight, especially since it included Bali’s own sharp little black grapes. The party then went on to delicious steaks (in two cases) and a spicy grilled chicken breast for the third diner. A half-litre carafe of house Shiraz helped out.

     The restaurant was very busy and this was good, because it provided a fine field of view of the eclectic mix of patrons – locally based and visitors – and their habits. The art of surreptitious observation is a fine skill to acquire. It makes dining out, for example, such conversational fun.
     This practice occasionally gets Hector into trouble; though never with those whose astonishing behaviour and manners becomes the subject of comment. Corrective imprecations are sometimes heard from Mrs Hector, but these are generally ignored. This leads to further trouble of course, but sport is, well, sport, and cannot be denied.

Monkey’s Uncle

There was an amusing little incident one lunchtime when Hector, who had elected to remain at home at Bali Breeze with his laptop computer rather than shuffle round the shops, arrived at the designated eating point ahead of the shopping party.

    Advising the attentive waitperson (a decorous and smiling young woman) at the Three Monkeys in Jl Monkey Forest – where else? – that he was joining two ladies for lunch and would look for them among the tables, she propelled him towards one nearby at which sat a delicious young lady and said: “This one?”
    She was Russian, possibly, so may not have understood the smiling “I’m so sorry” offered in apology by your embarrassed scribe. But perhaps the body language told the story.
    The shopping party arrived shortly thereafter, thankfully, meaning that Hector could cease pretending to commune with the Koi in the restaurant’s decorative fishpond and turn his full attention to the business of the moment.   Which turned out to be a nicely minted spinach ravioli.

Eat Up, Help Out

We’ll have to miss two not-to-be-missed events (being off-island is a reasonable excuse but it’s a shame) – a UNICEF fundraiser on August 13 at the Westin at Nusa Dua, of which the Bali Advertiser is a sponsor, and the ROLE dinner at the Ayana on August 11.

    Bali’s plush international hotels are seen by some at the “radical” end of the observer market as somehow being blots on the landscape. This is of course rubbish. They all run very good social and community development programmes (and employ many Balinese who mightn’t otherwise have jobs) and deserve public acknowledgement for this.
    The Westin event, Spirit of a Champion, features a performance of Wushu, Barongsai (the Chinese Lion Dance), Pencak Silat as well as Capoeira. It’s at the Nusa Indah Hall at the Bali International Convention Centre. An introduction class to Wushu will be available on the afternoon before the show.
     This event is in conjunction with the UNICEF Check Out for Children fundraising programme that the Westin and other Starwood hotels and resorts are supporting. Starwood has been working for 16 years to raise funds for the world’s most vulnerable children – Titin Rohayati at the Westin Nusa Dua tells us more than $7 million Australian (approaching US$8 million at today’s exchange rates) has been raised since the programme began.
    The money is garnered through a staff fundraising competition between Starwood Hotels in the Asia Pacific region which began in 2003. Last year Starwood staff in the Asia Pacific region raised more than US$132,000 in the UNICEF Check out for Children Challenge. Under the programme the money to date has been used to immunise thousands of children against the major childhood diseases: diphtheria, whooping cough, tetanus, polio, measles, childhood tuberculosis and hepatitis B.
    Now the programme is focusing on helping UNICEF education projects throughout the Asia Pacific. The impact of a child’s education is long-lasting because children of educated mothers are 50 percent more likely to survive beyond their fifth birthdays than those whose mothers didn’t get a chance to go to school. Money raised will help UNICEF build and improve school facilities; provide quality teacher training in impoverished areas and essential school supplies;  help children return to schools after emergencies with “School-in-a-box” kits; provide teaching programmes for ethnic minority areas; and communicate awareness of gender and health issues in schools.
     Tickets for the show cost Rp50.000 and the introduction to Wushu class plus the show costs Rp75,000. They are available through the Westin (call 08113802975 or 0361 77 1906 ext 6420 or email destination.westinbali@westin.com.
     The Ayana event on August 11 is a charity dinner – it’s dubbed ROLE Models – that follows a 10-week hospitality training course in partnership with the ROLE Foundation undertaken by seven disadvantaged students who have no formal schooling and most of whom were illiterate before they joined ROLE's vocational training programme.
    They are now learning basic serving skills from AYANA's senior managers and trainers, with the aim of eventually securing long-term employment in the hotel industry. Their training includes setting tables, pouring drinks, serving meals, taking orders and clearing plates.
    At the August 11 event they will serve “real” guests for the first time, supported by AYANA's trainers. The menu at the Rp500,000 a head dinner sounds inviting: Muara fish salad with pickled roots sour sauce; Keluwak beef soup with ginger and chilli; grilled chicken with red curry sauce, vegetables and pandan rice; and crispy banana fritter with mungbean Javanese ice cream.
    All proceeds from the dinner go to the ROLE Foundation. Check out their website at www.rolefoundation.org.

Ah So

News that All Nippon Airlines (ANA) and AirAsia have signed up to a cooperative deal that next year will bring AirAsia Japan into regional skies is good to hear. The new airline proposes to fly both internally in Japan and to regional destinations and might, in the fullness of time, produce a lift in the number of Japanese travellers to our shores.

    They’ve been scarcer of late than they should be, for all sorts of reasons, not all of them connected with the withdrawal of Japan Air Lines from the Bali route. But they’re fun, as well as well mannered, and they add a lot of value to the dining experience at Japanese restaurants here. 

National Flag Day

We’ll miss Independence Day this year, which is a pity, because we like to be here for Indonesia’s official birthday and also to win the informal competition in our street to see who gets the flag up first. We’ve won two years running, with a bright and clean Merah Putih (it only comes out once a year) firmly tied to a nice straight bit of bamboo pole that resides for the period in a custom-made cradle, a length of grey PVC piping that was probably souvenired from somewhere by our handyman, known to us from his sterling performance on our behalf as Mr Maybe.

    On August 17 we’ll be in Scotland where, in these devolved pre-Disunited Kingdom days, the fine white saltire of the St Andrew’s Cross is everywhere seen fluttering proudly on its field of dark blue.

Hector's Diary appears in the Bali Advertiser, out fortnightly, and on the newspaper's website www.baliadvertiser.biz

HECTOR'S DIARY The Bali Advertiser (July 27, 2011)

Doing Without the Wicked Witch Bank

We hear from the organisers of the Ubud Writers and Readers Festival – it’s on October 5-9 this year – that everything’s going ahead even though Citibank is no longer the major cash sponsor. (It seems Citibank may have overspent on their own credit card; let’s hope they have a convincing repayment plan to put to their outsourced delinquent accounts collectors.) That’s good, as we’ve noted before. The litfest should be supported by everyone; it’s a really great idea.

    So, according to a statement UWRF put out recently, the 2011 bash will be better than ever, with even more Indonesian writer participation. Last year founder and chief eminence Janet DeNeefe announced with a flourish that Citibank was the festival’s three-year naming sponsor (apparently on the basis of an unsigned email from someone at the bank). This year she’s been banging on some fairly deaf doors as a result of Citibank’s little accident on the way to a collection.
    More than 110 writers from more than 20 countries are on the books for a starting place this year, on the theme Cultivate the Land Within. Confirmed authors include Alexander McCall Smith, Alice Sebold, Alberto Manquel, DBC Pierre, Junot Diaz, Paul Kelly, Tim Flannery, Alex Miller, Izzeldin Abuelaish, Andrea Hirata, Tariq Ali, Glen David Gold, Benjamin Law, Putu Wijaya, Juan Gabriel Vasquez, Corinne Grant, Peta Mathias, the Cambodian Space Project – and the Diary’s personal favourite, Trinity the naked traveller.
     Programme director Melissa Delaney says the full list of writers will be announced in August. These and other details are available, or will be, on the festival website at www.ubudwritersfestival.com, and via Facebook and Twitter.
     DeNeefe says that despite Citibank’s withdrawal UWRF will present yet another world‐class dynamic event and that “overwhelming support from readers and writers alike” has given a huge surge of optimism to the festival team. That’s good. But it’s no substitute for a business plan you can actually bank on.

Spirited Effort

While on the subject of Ubud and festivals, make a note in your diaries: Next year’s BaliSpirit Festival — billed by the spirited Meghan Pappenheim and others as South East Asia’s premier

yoga, dance, and live music event – will be held from March 28-April 1.
    The five-day-and-night event, now entering its fifth year, offers more than 100 workshops, convenes dozens of top international yoga and dance instructors and world class musicians, and attracts several hundred guests from all over the world.
     Among those presenters scheduled to appear at the 2012 BaliSpirit Festival are renowned figures
in their fields such as Danny Paradise (Ashtanga Yoga and Shamanism); Vinn Marti (Soul Motion Dance); Mark Whitwell (Heart of Yoga); and Carlos Pomeda (Meditation/Tantra Yoga).
     “We offer something for everybody, and every year the festival atmosphere only gets better,” says Pappenheim, the festival’s co-founder and producer. “I believe it’s the magic and beauty of Bali that enhances the festival experience.”
     When we spoke to Pappenheim last week she was in Singapore – the Diary loves the New Serenissima: all the traffic stays in its clearly marked lanes and stops at red lights – where no doubt there are opportunities to promote the festival. She says the 2012 festival will feature Indonesian and Balinese culture and art; world music concerts and collaborations; workshops for many interests – and a new bamboo reforestation project among other programmes for the socially aware.

Happy Appointment

In yet another sign of the indelibly beneficial links between Indonesia and Australia, Murdoch University in Perth, Western Australia, has just appointed Indonesia’s ambassador in Canberra, Primo Alui Joelianto, as an honorary professor. The appointment recognises the ambassador’s personal commitment to Indonesia-Australia relations and support’s Murdoch’s mission in Indonesian studies, Bahasa Indonesia, and a strong research capacity.

    Joelianto gave a lecture at the university on July 21 to mark his appointment. His topic was Indonesia’s Foreign Policy and Australia-Indonesia Bilateral Relations. He certainly brought some formidable intellect and knowledge to that task – before his Canberra appointment, in 2009, he was director general Asia Pacific and Africa in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. He was previously director of East Asia and Pacific Affairs.
    Murdoch University’s professor of South East Asian studies, Professor David T Hill, heads the university’s Centre for Asian Studies and is on the board of the Australia-Indonesia Institute. Earlier this year the university hosted a workshop on the future of Indonesian studies in Australian universities.

It’s B(ad)

The Diary has a lovely young friend who lives in Jakarta and keeps us up to speed with events in the Big Durian that actually affect real people rather than just the elite. You know, the sort of stuff that generally fails to rate a mention from the politically rich and religiously powerful whose views are sought on a whole lot of things and which are reported ad nauseam. We met on Facebook and now commune regularly via instant message but – other than on webcam – have yet to meet face to face.

    All of which is by the way, except that she recently travelled home to Lampung in Sumatra for her brother’s wedding and tried – as we had agreed – to make contact from there.  Her first go was hardly a success. Her text said:  “Service here is b”.
    The full but regrettably truncated word was “bad” and the veracity of her report completely self-explanatory.

Alila Delight

Alila Villas Soori on the Tabanan coast, the plush boutique resort which benefits from the public relations skills of the delightful Devina Hindom, had a wine dinner on July 23 which it would have been lovely to attend. The Diary, however, is determinedly self-drive (we prefer to have our own accidents) and while a round trip might have been feasible with just OJ in the middle, it would be suicidal to attempt it accompanied by the inevitable results of exposure to real wine. So we didn’t go.

    Should we come into a more than modest inheritance and have the sort of cash required, we might try it sometime, though. Chef Ashton Hall’s ingredient-driven cuisine, a prime al fresco dining ambience at Cotta restaurant, and a decorous real wine or three would really be rather nice.
    Alila has another treat available. Its current artist in residence, Gregory Burns, has an exhibition of paintings at the resort until August 3 and is also offering classes for anyone who fancies adding gifted amateur to their CV.

Just a Thought

We’re in the middle of some enervating annual bureaucracy here at The Cage, a chore that sometimes detracts from enjoyment of the Bukit views and ocean seascape that are among the many delightful features of our des res. It so happened that this coincided with the unsought arrival in the in-box of some promotional puffery from a property developer in Malaysia.

    It was spruiking expatriate housing – apparently in Kuching, Sarawak, which would not be our primary choice as a place in which to while away a genteel retirement – but was interesting for its enumeration of the benefits of the MM2H programme run by the government of Malaysia. It stands for Malaysia My Second Home.
    Hey, those guys actually want expatriates to go to live there! You can buy freehold property in your own name. You automatically get multiple exit re-entry permits with your annual visa (and automatic permanent residence after five years). You don’t need a nominee. You can take your household goods and chattels with you free of import duty. And a quality global standard internet connection costs you about a third of what you pay here for a service that drops out at will and otherwise runs like a dead donkey. 
    Still, it’s not Bali.

Europe Calls

By the time you’re reading the next Hector’s Diary we’ll be in Europe. We’re going to Scotland on family business (the clan’s got to get it together sometime) and then on to Budapest to check on the summer flow level in the Danube. (That is, as it relates to the by-product of the fermented grape juice available in the city’s many wine bars.)

     But don’t be alarmed. We’re not doing a runner and we do know, unlike others lately scratched from our address book, that you have to be here to write about Bali. It’s not a permanent relocation. And we’ll be looking forward to getting home.

Holy Month

The Diary is blessed to have many Muslim friends. With Ramadan starting on August 1, we say to them all: Kul ’am wa enta bi-khair (May every year find you in good health).

The Diary appears in the Bali Advertiser in print and in the e-paper. Visit www.baliadvertiser.biz.id.  Hector blogs here and is on Facebook (Hector McSquawky) and Twitter (@Scratchings).

HECTOR’S SCRATCHINGS

From the Scribe’s desk, for the week ending Saturday, July 23, 2011

A Shocking Event

If the indolent avian who is supposed to scratch together this weekly blog had been doing his job, and had done it yesterday when he was supposed to instead of idling away the hours on all sorts of other eruditions, we would not be leading the column with an item on the Norwegian outrage. But he didn’t, and so we are.

    The events in Oslo and nearby on Friday prove yet again – tragically – that lone madmen, or small groups of the same homicidally dysfunctional people, are a great and potent danger to us all. This one, apparently a Norwegian, seemingly has links to the mad anti-immigration, anti-Muslim fringe of the Norwegian (and pan-European) far right.  A so-called jihadist group elsewhere claimed responsibility for the bombing of central Oslo, but madmen of that provenance customarily claim to have done things they haven’t, in order to boost their visibility and to fool themselves that they are relevant rather than pointless.

    It defies belief that anyone could perpetrate an outrage of the sort just visited on Oslo and the poor young people attending a political party youth camp on an island near the Norwegian capital, many of whom are now dead. The shame of it is that the perpetrator is not in the morgue or lying bloodied under a blanket in a paddock in the cruel pornography of violent death with which, via modern communications, we are these days constantly assailed. Instead, the man has been arrested and we shall now have to endure months – possibly years – of legal process and argument presented for and against him.

    He has no argument he can reasonably advance in his own defence.  There is nothing that can excuse, explain or justify homicidal mayhem. There is no social or political cause that justifies meting out vile, shocking, terrifying death to anyone, whether by terrorist bomb or by multiple gunshots. That is the only lesson we can try to draw from these events. It is a message those who advocate or perpetrate terrorist violence – everywhere, of every stripe and including in Indonesia – must learn if they wish to be regarded as members of the human race.

    It is said that to meet their actions with a reaction in kind is to be descend to their level. Rubbish. It is they who have put themselves beyond the Pale. We are not a deadly threat to our communities; they are.

Be a Dhal, Dear

On to happier things: there’s an active and very useful Facebook-based group here in Bali that promotes “Bali Clean and Green,” which is the mantra adopted by Governor Made Mangku Pastika in his quest to clean up the island.

    A lot of it concerns the plastic and other waste that overburdens Bali and, unlike banana leaves, won’t quietly and harmlessly biodegrade in the watercourses and the undergrowth, as in the old days. There is of course a raft of national laws that proscribes polluters, corporate and private citizen alike, and the practice of selfishly and illegally discarding pollutant products. These are not enforced because Indonesia – and Bali as part of it – is adept at passing laws and equally so at ignoring them afterwards.  Acquiring the energy and interest to actually implement and enforce laws, and to stamp out the venal low-level corruption that prevents this, is the real imperative.

    But life is always better when attended regularly by risibility. And so it is that we can advise – courtesy of our good friend Tricia Kim, jeweller of renown, party girl of fine repute and, like Hector, a member of the Facebook group – that we can all help save the planet by eating lentils instead of cows.

    Apparently lentils selflessly die to feed us at far less an impact on global warming than beef cattle. So there you go – be a dhal and save the planet.

Wuffled Feathers

The Empire must be dead! This week the British Prime Minister, a chap who was educated at Eton and Oxford and who, despite the politically driven desire to be viewed as untoffy by the common man, could never manage the swallowed vowels or glottal stops now favoured by the Pommy herd, stood up in the House of Commons and pronounced furore (fuh-rorh) as few-roar-ray.

    Still, poor David Cameron was under a bit of pressure, in the fallout from the Murdoch shambles and his astonishing decision when opposition leader to appoint former News of the World tabloid fixer  Andy Coulson as his spokesman and to take him with him when he moved into No 10. The News of the World is now defunct, as it should be. Rupert Murdoch has been revealed to be an 80-year-old man (surprise!). A grubby newspaper and its grubby practices have created a political crisis.

   Cameron is certainly at the centre of a furore. Political cupidity always – eventually – catches up with people. So it is no surprise that he has been discomfited. But few-roar-ray? Never!

Des Res Designs

Here at The Cage we are in the early stages of working up our next Des Res Acquisition Programme (DRAP). Well, we’ve been where we are for four years and we’re out of paperclips or something. Plus the present digs have a lot of steps. These are no problem at present but, with the passing of an unknown though implacably finite number of years to come, may be in the future. As well, apparently, we need one more room. The Distaff has explained why this particular specification is essential and Hector’s happy with this – anything for a quiet life. He’d settle for twin basins in the bathrooms, but he has always been accused of lacking domestic ambition.

     As part of the extensive “pre-decision to proceed” process – everything’s so codified nowadays – we have commenced examination of stock on the market. We have all but ruled out building a new place, since neither of us is sure our blood vessels could stand the strain. Thus we are seeking something with a view, in a quiet area, with proper plumbing and reasonable construction, at an affordable price.

    Early research indicates that the property we really need does not exist. Unless we're living in it. Just a thought. However, as with shoes in your size and preferred colour and design (“I really like these shoes. They’d be great in a different colour with smaller heels, an open toe and a thinner strap”) the search will go on.

    Phase II of DRAP involves selling the existing des res – which really is desirable and, after much work on our part, also a residence – to someone who wants something with a view, in a quiet area, with proper plumbing and reasonable construction, at a price we will feel disposed to accept.

    For Phase II we are staying out of the hands of realtors, some of whom seem only to be interested in stinging you for Rp2 million a month – OK, that’s only $227 Australian, but it’s still dosh down the gurgler – for “marketing” that may, or more likely may not, be visible.

Layer, Layer

Winter is upon us on the Bukit. Yes, we know this will surprise those of you who live in places where actual winter exists, or if in Australia, a pale facsimile of same, but our bit of Bali juts out into the Indian Ocean at the southern extremity of the island proper – we’re only joined by a mangrove sandbar for goodness sake – and in July and August the breezes can strike you as a tad on the cool side.

    We were out for dinner last night – just locally, at our favourite little spot, Gorgonzola on Jalan Raya Uluwatu, a mere 10-minute fright away, where the pizzas are so good that they attract taste sensationalists from Seminyak – and we had to put on something under the something we were wearing to keep out the night chills.

    It has nothing whatever to do with advancing years. Anyone who suggests it has will be sentenced to an indefinite term of helping us up our steps (see above).

Hector is on Facebook (Hector McSquawky) and Twitter (@Scratchings). He writes a diary in the fortnightly Bali Advertiser www.baliadvertiser.biz and the lovely people at The Yak magazine link this blog to their online site http://theyakmag.com/

   

HECTOR’S SCRATCHINGS

From the Scribe’s desk, for the week ending Saturday, July 16, 2011

A Rabid Enragement

It is widely known that we have rabies here in Bali. Even idiots who supply feedback to websites and who apparently think its rabbis we have here, and must in consequence be constantly on the look-out for seven-branched candelabras, would probably know that, if they thought about it. They just can’t spell, which would be a giggle were it not merely tedious.
   We’ve had the disease here – officially – since 2008 when officialdom officially woke from its customary torpor to discover several unexplained deaths of people in the southern Bukit area from symptoms that any properly instructed medical student – not to mention a vet – would instantly recognise. Unfortunately, as well as inevitably, the disease had by then become established in the island’s stray dog population. Upwards of 130 people are therefore dead when no one should be.
    It is a critical epidemiological emergency as well as a preventive health imperative. There are far too many malnourished and diseased stray dogs on the island and they are a pest. Their numbers must be controlled, wherever possible by humane means such as vaccination and sterilisation but if necessary by culling.
   This process is under way (or so they keep telling us) but in various places local authorities have been taking it upon themselves to cull the dog population, without official sanction. You can’t blame them, especially in the face of arguments from the Don’t be Nasty to the Nice Little Doggies Lobby that culling is bad and longer term veterinary management is better. No one wants a rabid dog in their street.
   But – and it is a very big but indeed, and uttered in incandescent rage – mass indiscriminate poisoning of beach dogs at Seminyak is beyond the Pale. It’s more moronic than anything else, given that promiscuous scattering of strychnine baits kills domestic pets – even some on leads we hear – and risks killing small children who might pick one up and put it in their mouth.
    Who is organising it – if we accept that “organising” and “Bali” are not mutually exclusive terms – is unclear, but it’s most likely the banjars, the community precincts that are the very heart and soul of Balinese society. Who is paying for this indiscriminate extermination campaign is similarly unclear – it certainly won’t be the banjars – but its location on the Lurex Coast, the emerging Wannabe strip north of the existing Plushopolis, points in a certain direction.
   Naturally enough, high tariff hotels and high price-low behaviour places of entertainment and other pastimes don’t want dirty, diseased and potentially rabid dogs on their doorsteps scaring away their beglittered trade. But there are better ways to achieve a desirable outcome than mandating murder.  

An Interlude

We’ve had a busy week, doing this and that. We even ventured into Kuta one afternoon (a long way from the Bukit now you measure road distances here in time spent travelling) to see some lovely friends – and some lovely friends of friends – who were sensibly sojourning in Bali during Western Australia’s school holidays. We dined later at Un’s, off Poppies Lane I at the Jl Legian end, always a favourite spot and not just for its gnocchi gorgonzola.
   It was a lively evening, spent in Hector’s case in engaging discussion about literature and politics. Such fare is not generally available, at least readily, in English, in Bali.  And afterwards, having collected the clothes donation that came along with the visitors for distribution to various people desirous of same, the Bukit was much nearer Kuta than on the inward trip, which had taken place at pique hour.

Pay Up, Stay Up

The handy beach warungs (little cafés) at Balangan Beach on the Bukit, one of the few remaining places in the playground not yet cordoned off for the over-moneyed crowd, have been ordered to be torn down by Regent AA Gede Agung, who has put his Public Order squad (Satpol) on the job. The ramshackle little hostelries are unlicensed, you see ... and that means Regent Agung isn’t getting any money out of them.
    That’s fair enough. If there are rules and regulations and licensing arrangements (and notionally there are) then obviously they should pay their whack. But there’s a little matter of mutual benefit that is forever overlooked here. Regulations are applied in Bali to acquire money for the authorities.  Precious little of it comes back, either in cash or in kind. And little beach warungs make scant profit anyway from the cool drinks and Bintang and sarong sales and massages that they offer to the budget crowd.
    It would be nice to get from Regent Agung (and all the other local government leaders) an actuarially sound accounting of where the revenue they scrounge actually goes, and what benefits flow back to the people.
   He might like to consider, too, how tearing down helpful and pleasant little budget tourist facilities, licensed or otherwise, benefits anyone other than Satpol heavies who fancy a themselves a chance for a morning of public ordering.

Bugger That

Here’s a little tale that demonstrates the delights of life in Bali. Residents of a village in Gianyar on the Sanur-Kusamba bypass (which is being given a dual carriageway with hefty Australian aid money) tore up the median strip and destroyed traffic signs the other day because the new arrangement meant they had to detour 200 metres up the road on their motorbikes to turn off to their local beach.
    Apparently, despite being “socialised” about the issue – as the term puts it here: it means they had the matter explained to them and agreed to it – they had a little paddy and ran amok. Such is life. Perhaps they’ll actually be penalised for disturbing the peace and destroying public property. But don’t hold your breath.

Monkey Business

Monkeys are an integral part of Bali’s traditional life and culture. They feature in dance, drama and folklore as well as in real life, and as long as they don’t pinch your lunch, your camera, your wallet or your sunglasses, they’re fun to see in the wild and semi-wild too.
    But not at one village near Amlapura in Karangasem recently. They’ve taken a leaf from the liberation liturgy of the Gianyar bypass villagers (or maybe it’s the other way round) and gone on the rampage. Village chief Wayan Yasa told the local press simian raiding parties have destroyed agricultural land and private gardens in the area.
    “Everything’s been eaten: pineapples, bananas ... basically anything that can be eaten,” he said, adding that because of this the village would be seeking tax relief from the local authorities.
    Teams sent into the bush to locate and exterminate the monkeys – in a fine example of the live and let live culture of Bali – came back disappointed. Their clever quarry made monkeys of the lot of them.

Chill Dinner

We saw some other friends one night this week at Gorgonzola, the Bukit Jimbaran bistro and wine bar where host Gibson Saraji lays on live music, tempts plenty of palates, and the beer is always cold. Our dinner friends that night are in Bali regularly, from Perth, and have a little house here that is their regular tropical holiday escape, especially from Perth’s rather chill and damp winters.
    It was nice to see them and we had a good chat. The evening was dry-season cool on the Bukit and the atmosphere was chill (it was not quite glacial) for a while. They arrived later than usual because the distaff part of the friendly couple is a West Coast Eagles fan and she had been watching the match on Australia Network TV.
    The Eagles had just been soundly beaten by St Kilda. Hector is a St Kilda fan.

Hector is on Facebook (Hector McSquawky) and Twitter (@Scratchings). He writes a diary in the fortnightly Bali Advertiser www.baliadvertiser.biz and the lovely people at The Yak magazine link this blog to their online site http://theyakmag.com/

HECTOR’S DIARY For the Bali Advertiser, July 13, 2011

The Gripes of Roth and Better Fiction

We had a good laugh recently when that loud and verbose bore Philip Roth, the self-proclaimed king of American social critique, announced he had given up fiction as irrelevant. Many people we know gave up Roth years ago, citing much the same reason. But not your diarist, who believes the three best rules of life are read, read, read. Besides, it’s difficult to argue that someone’s writing is mind-blowing rubbish if you haven’t bored yourself rigid reading the stuff first – and we do like an argument.

    But never mind. The mewling of people uncertain about their place in the world is better left for history – in this case the history of literature – to adjudicate. For most of us, more practical and immediate matters are of greater concern.
    So, absence of Citybank cash notwithstanding – you’ll remember they had that little local difficulty over a defaulting credit card customer and one of the collateral damages of that little exercise in total idiocy was their three-year sponsorship of the Ubud Writers and Readers Festival – the festival crowd up at Ubud are putting together a great programme.
    The Diary is particularly keen to meet the naked traveller, Trinity, who will be presenting a travel blogging workshop at the festival. We assume her tips will include advice to make sure you pack some clothes if you’re going off travel-blogging.
    Trinity is Indonesia's leading travel writer. In 2005, she started a travel blog at naked-traveler.com and in less than two years the blog was nominated as finalist in Indonesia's Best Blog Award. This led her to switch her corporate career to become full-time traveller and freelance travel writer.
    Her debut book The Naked Traveler (these American spellings are a nuisance but that's how she spells it) was a compilation of stories from her adventures around the world. The book inspired many Indonesians, especially young people, to travel. And that can only be good.
    The Naked Traveler has now been published in its third sequel and the book is Indonesia's best-selling travel book to date.
    UWRF’s Facebook is a good one to keep an eye on, by the way.

Strategic Glitch

A little while ago some friends we haven’t seen for years dropped us an e-line to say they were coming to Bali. They didn’t make it (they’ll try again later) because they were flying (well, meant to be flying) Brisbane-Bali with Strategic Airlines and its only available bus was stuck on the ground in Malaysia with a broken bit awaiting a replacement from somewhere or other.

    These things happen, and when you’re a small player like Strategic having one aircraft off line has a dramatic impact on your core business. You know what we mean: the bit in the business plan that says your business is all about flying fare-paying passengers on schedule and with minimal disruption.
    So we asked Strategic’s new corporate communicator, Heather Jeffrey, a refugee from Virgin Australia (and previously Air New Zealand), for an explanation of the service failure and specifically what the airline was doing for passengers stranded in Bali at the end of their holidays. Apart from anything else, it presented an opportunity for the airline to score a brownie point or two with a friendly reference to their great concern for the travelling public.
    Sadly, nothing was heard back from Ms Jeffrey, who must have decided that indiscretion is the better part of valour.  It’s a strange way to run a PR operation – and an airline, if you’re trying to drum up business, which Strategic is desperate to do.

Cliff-Top Sensation

We dropped in at Ayana Resort & Spa on Sunday, June 26, for the post-Bali Triathlon party, as the guests of Ayana spruiker and triathlon participant Marian Hinchliffe. She was looking remarkably spry for someone who had spent the day doing all sorts of things we’d never dream of – running, you know, and riding bikes and taking long swims – and we had a good chat. Which was very nice.

    Jack Daniels, whose Bali Discovery Tours had a hand in the event, this year sponsored in chief by local internet provider Biznet, was his usual ebullient self, and by all accounts – his included – the whole thing was a great success. That’s good to hear because Bali needs as wide a range of attractions as possible.

It’s a Breeze

Some other long-time friends from Australia were here recently, staying – as they generally do – at The Samaya at Seminyak. We dined with them one night, catered from Breezes, the plush resort’s signature beachside restaurant. But we dined in their villa, a pleasant ambience though on the other side of the road because the rest of Samaya has been demolished for extensive resurrection.

    The night started well. Our hostess – who may have been suffering shock, we heard a little later, since she had thought an earlier ring on the villa gate was her dear family returning from an outing but on opening the gate in a state of considerable dishabille found to her horror it was a work crew coming to fix something – offered us a beer and promptly (and spectacularly) dropped the bottle. A sprayful of large Bintang goes a long way.
    Things got rapidly better after that, though. So much better that the Distaff managed to leave her glasses, an apparently vital hair comb and certain other sundries concealed behind the cushion on the long couch upon which she had spent the evening wining, dining and gabbling.
    It was a difficult two days before we were able to retrieve the items. Life took on an altogether different and fierce aspect. They were her rose-coloured glasses, you see.

Smile, Please

One of Bali’s most deserving charity causes is epitomised in the Smile Foundation (Yayasan Senyum) whose leading light, Mary Northmore-Aziz, has just deservedly been in London to receive an MBE from the Queen.

    Smiles are worth paying for, the more so when they are smiles on the faces of children born with deformities that can be corrected by intricate and expensive cranio-facial surgery. So Adelaide (and Bali) identity Sally Black – with her son – are in the process of organising the Arafura Miles for Smiles. Sally and Arie – who is 14 – will bike it from Bali to West Timor to raise money for the charity.
    They are in Darwin at present – shame they had to be there in the tropical city’s coldest June on record, a function of global warming no doubt, but there you go – arranging necessary logistics. They have to get their motorbike from Kupang to Darwin at the end of their ride, for one thing, and are looking for a sponsor to fund this operation.
    Air North, which used to fly Darwin-Bali and may do so again, was on their list of possible sponsors to approach. It would be great if that came off.
    The Diary will follow the Ride for Smiles (well, figuratively speaking). So watch this space. And if you’re on Facebook (isn’t everyone?) check out theirs (Arafura Miles for Smiles). These two websites are worth a visit too: http://www.senyumbali.org and http://www.craniofacial.com.au.

Silly Chump

Those who observe the Australian scene may have noticed that the miners there are up in arms over the government’s plans to introduce a carbon tax (in the odd belief that this will avert or at least ameliorate global warming). It’s probably a silly idea: it would far better to use the tax system to properly subsidise developments in and usage of renewable energy. But it’s not a killer blow to magnates domestic or foreign who earn their overly-thick crusts from ripping out the country’s minerals, including the coal now being demonised by the Greens for political purposes.

    So it was strange that Twiggy Forrest, a West Australian magnate, should foolishly raise recently the spectre of secession. The West Australians voted to secede in 1933, in a referendum, but it did not proceed then – and wouldn’t now – because, well, it was (and is) a ridiculous idea.
    WA makes a living out of complaining that Canberra takes all its money and doesn’t give enough back. It’s a familiar refrain in any federation and has its own small echoes here in Bali over much tinier revenue flows from visas on arrival.
    Most West Australians, properly informed, would understand that if WA was suddenly independent it might keep all its resource revenue but it would have to pay the full whack for education, health, infrastructure and social welfare – not to mention defence and security and all the other impedimenta that come along with independent nationhood.

The Bali Advertiser is online at www.baliadvertiser.biz. Hector is on Facebook (Hector McSquawky) and Twitter (@ Scratchings)

HECTOR’S SCRATCHINGS

From the Scribe’s desk, for the week ended Saturday, July 9, 2011

It’s All Go Around Here

It’s been a strange sort of week at The Cage; and in the novelty of our first dry season in two years a little chilly overnight at that. Still, the frangipanis are out again and the twice-daily walk programme is well entrenched. So everything’s more or less as the forest nymphs would like it, excusing a walk cancelled by a rude shower of rain or an access of incohol the night before.  On that last point, we are currently engaged in an innovative programme aimed at assessing whether the makers of Aga Red can keep up their supply to match demand. We think we have them worried.

    Meanwhile the two chaps with the little hammer seem to have returned for further tapping experience at the monster villa next door that has now been “under renovation” for about three years and was, we hear, recently sold by its Jakarta owners to some poor mug from Singapore who is in consequence the new employer of the little chaps with the hammer. We suspect leaks, which may be connected with improper sealing (or ceilings) or possibly with the inability of water – even, amazingly, in Indonesia – to run uphill.
    Two canine occasions enlivened recent late afternoon walks, in the short gloaming that you get in the tropics. First Mr Grumpy – we don’t know his name but he’s an old dog no longer at his best (we know how he feels) – barked at us when we appeared from the top of the little gang (alley) from which we always emerge after the hill climb we’ve built into our fitness regime. He long ago gave up barking at us, since we embarrassed him into silence by ignoring his threats to rip us apart and then being nice to him. He only barked twice (and ran towards us) before he recognised that he’d been an absolute mutt. An elderly proto-wolf looking foolish is a sight worth seeing.
    Then, another evening, Cleo, who is a very large brown dog of some variety who has similarly (unless she forgets) given up barking at us, was outside her villa eating grass along the roadside. She is a very big dog and the local cows are very small. It was momentarily confusing. Then it became amusing, because – like Mr Grumpy up the hill – Cleo looks hilarious when she’s severely embarrassed.

Birthday Week

Two of Hector’s favourite local luminaries from the distaff side had birthdays this week – serial campaigner Susi Johnston and Ubud scribble-fiesta doyenne Janet DeNeefe.  Facebook’s birthday facility was called into play on each occasion.

    Susi’s Facebook said she was living in Brussels – she wasn’t and doesn’t, she was just visiting – so we said cheerio and have a waffle, she was allowed. She told us by return that she was definitely allowed but by that time was in Milano so she’d have a giant gelato instead. Good call!
   Janet’s big day was on Saturday. We expect it was a decorative affray.

Here be Dragons

Well, not exactly, except for a few in breeding programmes in local zoos. Bali is not the natural habitat of the famed Komodo dragon, the world’s largest monitor lizard. They hail from Komodo Island, neighbouring Rinca and – in slightly diminished stature – the western end of Flores, which is several hundred lizard-swims east of Bali.

    We do have our own large monitor lizards on Bali, some of them of impressive size and astonishing speed – one we met once raced us up a long driveway and won, and we were in a car – and to these we apply our Standard Reptilian Rule: you stay out of our way and we’ll stay out of yours.
    Nonetheless, the Komodo deserves protection as a small and unique part of Earth’s natural heritage and for this reason we can afford to give a cheer to a concert in their honour to be held on Kuta Beach on July 30
    The concert is an important part of the “Komodo: The Real Wonder of the World” campaign that was launched in Jakarta on July 1. The campaign is aimed to raise global public awareness and participation in the conservation and preservation of the Komodo dragon and its natural habitat.
    The Concert for Komodo will be highlighted by East Nusa Tenggara ethnic music and will feature some of Indonesia’s most well-known musicians, including Dwiki Dharmawan, Dira Sugandi, Mercy Dumais, Sandhy Sondoro, and others, who are part of the Friends of Komodo community.
    So let’s hear it for the Komodo.

What a Shemozzle

The strange (and strangely disturbing) case of Prita Mulyasari, a 34-year-old mother of three from Tangerang, part of the sprawl of Greater Jakarta, who in 2008 wrote some unfavourable emails about the Omni International Hospital there and has been vindictively pursued by that self-evidently  less than august facility ever since, had another outing this week.

    In a decision that defies even the tortured logic of Indonesian justice, the Supreme Court upheld a prosecution appeal against her acquittal in a separate but related trial for criminal libel brought after Omni’s initial civil suit was quashed by the same court.
    Initially she was thrown into jail in 2008 after Omni sued for defamation over 20 emails she had sent to friends criticising the hospital’s service. That’s the way here: in a crisis, brain is chiefly used to round up and direct brawn to batter your opponent (sometimes literally). But she won the case.
    After first being ordered to pay Omni Rp 312 million (around US$39,000 at present exchange rates) she won a cut on appeal to Rp 204 million ($25,500) and then the verdict was finally quashed.
    At the same time, however, Prita was tried in a criminal libel case brought by Omni. This time, the Tangerang court threw out prosecutors’ preliminary arguments and later acquitted her at trial. But prosecutors appealed this ruling and it was this appeal that the Supreme Court upheld on Friday.
    Throughout this ridiculous travesty Omni has failed to learn the lessons it needed to learn: make sure your services actually are user friendly, which means not necessarily believing your own bullshit; and if a problem nonetheless arises, manage that through a sensible corporate public relations and mediation process.
    If you don’t do that, the whole world learns that you’ve been a bit of dill, or worse. And anyway, whatever the merits or demerits involved in a corporate shemozzle, some mud always sticks.

Yak On!

We’re chuffed. Hector has been invited to join the list of Bali Blogs promoted on the great Yak Online site, where readers of Bali’s best magazine can now get an instant update on matters Yak. Do yourself a favour and bookmark www.theyakmag.com.

    That way, you won’t miss any of the bubbles Bali produces for the party crowd – or the great reading the print magazine and its feisty stable mate The Bud present for readers.

Hector is on Facebook (Hector McSquawky) and Twitter (@ Scratchings). He also writes Hector’s Diary for the fortnightly Bali Advertiser.