Beauty, Batik, Boats, Boredom & Boys
Bali and its neighbor, Lombok, show two sides of Indonesia
B is for Beauty
The beauty of Bali blows you away. Every morning, you watch women gently carry offerings to the sidewalk, palm-sized square grass baskets filled with fresh flowers, cookies, a handful of rice, sometimes a cigarette, a wrapped candy. They murmur words over a cup of water and sprinkle the water on the offering, asking for good luck and health for the day. Street animals, birds, and sometimes an errant monkey nimble at food, welcomed by the Balinese.
The tradition has roots in Hinduism but is classically Balinese, occurring nowhere else on the 17,000 islands of the Indonesian archipelago. The result is edifying as you walk the alleys and lanes of Balinese towns: little dots of color and floral perfume fill the air at every step. In the evening, people sweep up and dispose of the offerings, many still vibrant and unmolested, accepting the impermanence of all things and readying the place for the next morning’s basket.
B is for Batik
Like most Westerners, you know Bali as the ultimate honeymoon spot: luxurious hotels overlooking chartreuse rice paddies, breakfasts of papaya and mango over fresh yogurt floated to you in your private pool, hikes through flowered jungles to pristine waterfalls.
Art everywhere. Murals, fabrics, hand-made jewelry, even vine-covered walkways dripping with blossoms feel like art in Bali. You soak it in — beauty for beauty’s sake — and you understand why some people come for a week and never leave.
B is for Boat
The Indonesians themselves don’t know how many islands make up their country. Estimates range from 13,000 to 17,000, possibly more, and debates linger about what can be deemed an island. Whatever the truth, the plethora of islands holds whatever a traveler can imagine.
You might snorkel off the beach, visit komodo dragons on their home island, wander Jakarta’s belching neighborhoods, or see ancient temples or mosques, boats being the easiest way to get from island to island.
B is for Boredom
While Indonesia is home to the largest Muslim population on the planet, many Americans might not be able to place Bali within Indonesia, assuming it’s its own country. And while Bali draws the visitor with its beauty, truly knowing Indonesia takes leaving that verdant island.
So you cross the water to the east. You can see Lombok from Bali, but once you’re on the local ferry, you recognize its distance. Five hours turns to six, and you wish you could sleep like the local people do. Instead, you sweat and wait. Wait and sweat.
B is for Boys
You understand one fundamental truth about travel: the people you meet are more memorable, impactful, and significant than a bowl of papaya floated across a pool, however luxurious. So you search out interaction, and you know the secret to this too.
You plunk yourself somewhere, and you don’t move. You spend afternoons in city squares, and soon enough, you’re chatting with local vendors, dancing with musicians, receiving invitations to dinner.
You rent a house in a neighborhood, far away from the Starbucks and KFC. You dig deep for the seeds of extroversion, and you open your heart. Soon enough, the neighbor brings you friend bananas and tempeh over rice, and your children kick a soccer ball with the neighborhood boys.
Your children mime and draw and charade to communicate between Bahasa and English. They wander the blocks with their new friends, plucking passion fruit from a tree around the corner. They pool their change to buy milk for the pregnant stray cat, and months later, receive photos from the boys of three bright-eyed kittens.
These are the experiences you pack up carefully and gently to take home across the ocean.
Stephanie Tolk is currently traveling and worldschooling with her children. If you’re curious about extended travel with your family, check out her course: Worldschooling: A Comprehensive Guide to Long-Term Travel. Her multi-author book Worldschooling: Innovative Parents Turning Countries into Classrooms, will be published December 9, 2022.
