The song, ”When I’m 64,” has been playing over and over in
my mind today, my 64th birthday.
Paul McCartney wrote it for his father’s 64th birthday at age 15 when the
Beatles were preforming in nightclubs as the Quarrymen. Little did he know what it was like to be 64,
and I doubt the Beatles did later when the song was released in 1967 on the
iconic “Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” album. Back then, as a 16-year old, I had no clue
about what it would be like, either. Fortunately my reality,and that of Sir Paul
and many baby boomers, doesn't match that of the song’s lyrics. Perhaps
it would seem more relevant if the title were “When I’m 84” or even “When I’m
94.” But it’s still a cute song.
Duplicate birthday cards from Kathy & Mark
1 day shy of 64
Kathy and I are returning from a short trip to Arizona to
visit my brother Mark and his wife Charlene.
So nice to see them and their dogs, soak up sun, and hike in the
desert.
We climbed Mt. Picacho!
To of Picacho Peak
View from near the top of Picacho Peak
Saguaro National Park--Amazing!
A Saguaro skeleton
We really needed a break since our return from Bali. I’ve been unusually busy with several projects and work commitments and had a short speaking gig to former colleagues in LA about my book. Kathy has been consumed with her duties on the national board of the Assistance League. She returned from a January board meeting as sick as a dog—so bad that I took the rare step to self-deport to the guest bedroom.
Among all of this—and sort of the inspiration for the
opening paragraph of this post—Kathy’s mom celebrated her 90th
birthday. It’s hard to believe that she
was hospitalized for pneumonia and then had a stroke just about a year
ago.
Doris J. Ellis, Age 90
She’s doing well physically, but it
gets us wondering what will be going on in our heads and bodies when we’re
that age. We have absolutely now idea of what is like to be 90, just as Sir Paul
McCartney couldn't accurately imagine age 64. Hopefully, we’ll be as alert, engaged,
healthy, active, and in love as we are now.
2004 Klein Aura road bike
For some of my Facebook friends, this may be old news, but I
just lost two very dear friends. Sometime
since our return from Bali, two of my bikes were stolen from our locked bike
locker within our condo’s locked bicycle storage area. This was the second time I’ve experienced
bike thefts at the condo, with Kathy’s parked right next door untouched. The thieves must like my taste in bikes more
than hers. Perhaps it was the universe
telling me that I personally couldn’t ride four bikes at once, but with the
loss of those two physical objects, I feel like I have lost a tangible connection
to so many good—and not always good—memories of rides with friends and by
myself.
2013 Specialized Cross Trail
We’re busy planning our trips for the year and looking
forward to a number of fun concerts and fundraisers in Salem in the next few
months. One of them is my Rotary club’s
A Night to Pay it Forward to benefit homeless teens in Salem. If you can’t attend, I hope you can use the
link to make a donation.
Getting back to my birthday--even if I was blind and never saw a calendar again, I would know it by the sweet smell of Daphne blossoming. Spring is around the corner—enjoy what remains of our
winter.
We're back! And we're almost over our jet lag. Kathy came down with a bad case of bronchitis, and I've been nursing a sore knee tendon. Coming back has been difficult. We're just not adjusted to the fog, the cold, and the general emptiness and isolation.
Walking a half mile to dinner in Bali, we would have been warmly greeted by 25-50 people, plus a handful of friendly dogs. We would have heard the sounds night-time insects gamelan practice, and of people going about their lives in their homes, and on their front steps. At home, walking a half mile to a friend's home, just cars. Everyone is inside, somewhere.
However, there are trade offs. Our own bed, our own cooking, clean tap water, friends and co-workers, back to the gym, communicating easily in English, and the feeling of being useful at work or other endeavors. And we must admit, high-speed internet is so very nice!
Posting photos on Blogspot takes time, especially with slow overseas connections. So here is a link to some of our edited better and best photos--perhaps only 10% of what we took. Many of them were never in our blog posts, so we encourage you to scroll down and look at the few photos in every blog post. These mostly new photos are now on Facebook. You don't need to be a Facebook friend, or even on Facebook. Simply click on this link, and enjoy! Thanks for reading these posts and for your feedback.
As we fly to Taiwan, then to
Seattle and Portland, we are filled with emotion and gratitude over the
wonderful experiences we have had and the anticipation of going back to the
world we know much better.
It’s been the best vacation of
our 37 years of marriage. Perhaps that
is because Shanti and Skyler joined us for the first week and because it was
the mellowest and most stress-free trip we have ever had. In four weeks, we accomplished less than we
typically do in a one-week vacation or one weekend at home, but that was
okay. It was part of the plan.
We learned to savor the moments,
the beauty, the people, the smells, the music, the food, and our time
together. And to be content with getting
just one or two things done per day, like a hike, Pilates, a Rotary meeting, an
excursion, nap, writing, photo editing, more book chapters read, etc.
We will miss the extraordinary
tropical beauty, the artful architecture, the people, the evening walks through
the village to dinner, the food, the spiritual pageantry, mangoes for
breakfast, $12 massages, the torrential monsoon showers, and interesting
conversations with just about everyone we met.
Doorstep offering
We will also miss the small
things—the roosters crowing at dawn, Balinese smiles and courtesy, the friendly
Bali dogs, the sounds of birds and insects, small offerings to the gods at
every doorstep and rice paddy, and the sweet smells of incense and fragrapani
trees. And big things, like our plunge
pool and air conditioned bedroom which made the heat and humidity bearable.
Travel and living in Bali is
relatively easy, compared to most other developing nations. We can see why many western ex-pats live here
year-round. We first fell in love with
it in 1979 and elevated it to a romantic pedestal. We were shocked to see how
it had changed by 2008, and even more since then. But like children, places grow and
change. Some of those changes aren’t
necessarily good, but of all our travels, it is still the one place other than
Oregon that we will always love. Goodbye
was hard, very hard.
Clean Water is precious
As we leave one paradise, we look
forward to returning to another—Salem, Oregon in the good old US of A. We’re looking forward to returning to our
friends, co-workers, responsibilities, drinkable tap water, our own cooking, our
regular workout routines, speaking English all the time, Great Harvest bread,
good red wine, a nice martini or Manhattan, our own bed, high-speed internet,
understanding what is going on, and above all, feeling needed and productive. And maybe even cold, mosquito-free foggy
weather.
The rice just beyond our plunge pool
is now amber and ready for harvest next week.
It’s time to go home to our other paradise.
Comedian Louis Black occasionally does a commentary on Jon Stewart's Daily Show entitled, "Between the Cracks," about news items we may have missed. Well, here's our version, probably not as funny and definitely not angry. These are just little things we found delightful or amusing that we either forgot or that didn't fit into the narrative of the day. Enjoy!
What kind of a place has no cars or motorcycles, but pony carts, three miles of beautiful white sand beaches, scantily-clad Western tourists with a mix of headscarf-wearing Muslim tourists from Jakarta, dirt roads, 22 dive schools, mosques, no dogs, but lots of tail-less cats,and a vibrant outdoor nightclub scene?
Mt Agung in distant background over Gili Trawangan
Going snorkeling
The answer? Gili Trawangan, the largest of the three main Gili islands. They are located between Bali and Lombok Islands, about a three hours by the 'fast' boat from Bali's east coast. They are definitely not Bali, especially the Ubud area where we have been staying.
Ticklish fun on the fast boat
Not ones to sit still in one place for very long, we thought we would take a four-day excursion to this popular Indonesian tourist hotspot.
We rented a one-room cottage in the heart of town, about four blocks back from the waterfront along dirt roads and ordinary homes. (Cost? $34 per night). The constant sounds of chickens, crying babies, playing children, the blaring mosque loudspeaker, and non-motorized streetlife came free of charge.
Our Street
We rented bikes (the best rust $2.50 per day can buy), chartered a private boat and gear for snorkeling ($50), walked around a lot, watched the sunset near Bali's sacred Mt. Agung, ate like kings at the waterfront and the night market and drank our share of Bintang beer. We also had long naps every afternoon because of the oppressive heat and humidity.
The squid satay was fantastic
Night market--so many choices!
Waiting for the sunset @ Plucking Good Chicken
Sunset over Mt. Agung
It's been interesting being back in an Indonesian Muslim culture. The people are very friendly and we can more easily understand their dialect of Indonesian. They are not as reserved as the Balinese. We've had some fascinating conversations in Indonesian with locals who have migrated from other parts of Indonesia to work. However, unlike Bali, the place is devoid of of art and adornment. The standard of living and cleanliness is much lower.
Also, except for the Jakarta tourists, we seem to be the oldest people here. It paradoxically made us feel both younger and much older at the same time. One young man shouted out to us in Indonesian from a waterfront food stall, "Hello Mom and Dad!" To his surprise I replied, "Hello, little child!" All three of us got a good laugh out of it.
Sunset over Lombok Island
As Kathy said in her Facebook posts, "...Ah, the island life! Tonight promises free viewing of young travelling westerners exhibiting exotic mating rituals which seem to require alcohol, tiny disco balls and loud music. Somehow I doubt we will blend in...We are, after 2 days' observation, officially the oldest tourists on the isle. Too tired to party at the bars until dawn. And as a nod to our Peace Corps training about being CI (Culturally Insensitive) she went on to say: "...Have to stifle urge to tell young'uns to "put on a bra, Dearie, cover your bikini bottom as you walk down the road, your mother would be shocked. And are you wearing enough sunscreen?"
We've done all there is to do here, except for get sunburned and destroy more bain cells at night clubs long past our bedtimes. So, we're cutting it short by a day and returning to Ubud Bali later this morning. Nice vacation--especially to get away from cars and motorcycles, but it will feel good to be "home" again, if only for four more nights.
"Now you are Balinese," a young Balinese man said to us as we walked home from the semi-annual Galungan festival last evening, dressed in appropriate attire for temple admittance. Well, we certainly don't feel Balinese because we will never understand all of their complex culture, rituals, and religion; nor could buy into their belief system or ever be completely fluent in the Balinese version of the Indonesian languages.
However, we do feel welcomed into their lifestyle, if only for the short time we are here. Once you get out of the bigger towns and high-rise tourist resorts, there is nothing plastic about Bali, except for the water bottles and bags choking the rivers and irrigation canals. The Galungan festivities in our village (and thousands all over Bali) wasn't staged for us but rather it was an organic event staged by the Balinese for the Balinese. We were allowed along just for the ride, and what a ride it was!
The excitement started the day before as people started decorating the panjores (see our December 15 post), slaughtering pigs and preparing elaborate offerings. By yesterday morning, everyone was dressed in their finest temple garb and joyfully heading for the offering ceremony. It was a sensory overload of color, incense, music, rituals, happy voices and pageantry.
Morning prayers & offerings
After that they got on their motorcycles, sometimes 4-5 on one, and visit friends and relatives, bringing beautiful baskets of food.
We didn't get invited into a home, but we enjoyed seeing families all decked out in their finest on motorbikes as we walked into Ubud for an excellent traditional meal, minus the babi guling (roasted pork).
Food porn!
Later in the afternoon, everyone spontaneous materialized at the temple and the procession through village commenced. Here's a good clip of the start of the procession.
Procession through the village
The barong is a mythical lion-dog in the form of a two-person puppet, like a two-person horse costume. It stops and does a dance in front of homes that have large offerings, the money in them is used to help finance temple operations.
Barong house call
Texting the Apple God
The gamelan marching band plays loudly the whole time. After three hours, our ears were ringing from the mesmerizing music, which to our western ears, seems to lack structure and our harmonic scale.
I encourage you to play this short YouTube clip. The first part shows the amazing virtuosity of the players. Take note of their left hands, which work harder than the right hands holding the hammer.
spectators
We aren't Balinese, but we were for a day, and it sure was fun.
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