Off the High Dive into Taiwan

Flying from Bali to Taiwan is like diving off the high diving board. We left a sunny exotic island in the Indian Ocean for another island teeming with millions of Taiwanese people all in a hurry in torrential downpours. Don't get me wrong. We are enjoying our time visiting with Nate and his lovely girlfriend Maria touring the island. Having two free Chinese translators is a good deal for us, although I think we overwhelm shy Marcia when we hotly debate issues in English and she cannot keep up. Must be tough for her as a country girl just learning English.

Nate's home of Jhongli is a dark little factory town where everything closes for Chinese New Year (this week). So we taxied on to Taipei, a huge international city with the world's most efficient light rain system. You can travel anywhere quickly for a couple of dollars on the train. We visited the National Palace Museum, where we saw jade carvings, and the Night Market where you can buy anything from highly padded red bras to matches at the shooting gallery until 3 AM. The food is varied and delicious, although I cannot get used to eating the national dish of pickled pigs' feet!

We are ready to return tomorrow to the Willamette Valley, where no one stares at us for having white skin and blue eyes. Even Chuck admits it (amazing!). So, Shien Nien Kwai Le (Happy New Year, in the Year of the Tiger....Grrrr....)!

"Ketut and the Balinese Caste System"

Our English speaking taxi driver Ketut has taught us a lot about Baslinese castes and culture and the lessons are fascinating. Each Balinese person is born into a caste which is his/hers for life and is reflected by their birth name, with Wayan as Son no. 1 followed by Made (No. 2) and Nohman as No. 3. Our driver is the fourth son so his name is Ketut. For girls, the names are the same but prefixed by "Nee" as in Nee Wayan for No. 1 daughter. Therefore, when meeting a Balinese, one knows immediately their caste and birth order by hearing their name. This position determines how you address and speak with that person, using different terms of respect. Everyone here must know his/her place in the universe at all times.

Because of his position in his village, Ketut proudly plays the gamelon, a wooden xylophone, each Tuesday in his village orchestra while the women do Baliinese traditional dances. His wife, like all Balinese women, daily arranges and places floral and fruit offerings for the protection of their home and his taxi by the many Hindu gods. Although he works in a Japanese SUV for Western tourists, Ketut fully practices his Balinese heritage along with all other Balinese people. Yesterday, he proudly showed us his evenly filed front teeth, resulting from a "coming of age" practice at age l7. A "holy man" arrives at home and evenly files the front 6 teeth with a large metal file, interrupting eating for three days due to soreness. Yikes! As a dentist's daughter, this one custom seems ignorant and destructive to me regardless of its symbolism or meaning.

How refreshing to find a country which welcomes tourists warmly, embraces technology and modernity yet keeps a rich, indigenous culture alive and unspoiled. However barbaric some
practices may seem one cannot help but admire a culture which provides such a sense of unchanging belonging, beauty, and roots for its people. We can hope these people will preserve this mostly beautiful way of life in the face of progress.

English Teachers for One Day

On Friday, Chuck and I had a truly cross cultural experience as "English teachers for one day." We volunteered to teach English to junior high students in our hotel owner's school where he teaches English. With over 500 kids, all students were neatly dressed in orange uniforms and the school was lovely with flowers and courtyards everywhere. We were ushered into the concrete classroom of 40 silent students and introduced, whereupon the teacher promptly left to answer his cell phone (can you believe it?) We fumbled around, discussing our country, drawing pictures, and talking about our family. We tried repeatedly to engage them but they mostly smiled silently at us. I found a workbook passage and read it to them. It started with "A mother took her daughter to mall to buy fashionable clothes" and the grammar went downhill from there. I asked the multiple choice questions and they answered correctly and in unison in English. Must be the conversation which is so hard!

Then Chuck tried topics of sports and ended up teaching them all to shout "Go Ducks!" in unison although we have no idea what they understood of that. How funny to have 40 rural Balinese teenagers cheering for an Oregon football team halfway around the world from Oregon!

We were struck by the dearth of supplies and materials with no visual aids, in such a nice school. The teacher leaves the room every time his cell phone rings! As a teacher, my heart goes out to these teachers and students trying to learn with no visuals or materials and workbooks written in terrible grammar. I think of all the wasted materials and technology we have in the US. We are indeed fortunate, taking so much for granted when Third World kids have so little.

"Diving Like a Queen"

Here in the Gili Islands, near Bali, Chuck, Nate, and I have enjoyed two scuba dives. Signing up with Deive Trawangan, we were met with a full retinue of gracious Balinese helpers who filledour tanks, instructed us, carried all our equipment, and drove our boat to the dive site. Our Indonesian divemaster Ink (his real name!) assisted my every move, buckling all the clasps on my dive vest (what service!). During the dive, he swam at my side, pointing our a brown octopus, thousands of purple and yellow reef fish on life filled coral heads. On the next dive we swam next to 4 giant green turtles quietly feeding, one of which looked ancient and was over 4 feet in length, digging a hole in the sand. Upon surfacing to our boat, our helper took all lour gear and welcomed us with a platter of fresh fruit. All of this cost $38/person. I was "diving like a queen!"

How fortunate we three are to dive on a healthy life filled reef cheaply and with so much help. All the world's reefs are now endangered and you see dead white coral everywhere in waters which are getting warmer and warmer. With global warming, all of this beautiful life may disappear. So it is a great privilege to fly to the Indian Ocean and swim in clear aquamarine waters with beautiful, healthy sea creatures which may soon be gone.

"Where is my Village?"

This week Chuck and I had one those "aha moments," a surprise in the middle of a planned trip. During a taxi driven tour of the island of Bali, we stumbled upon a big Hindu village ceremony with yellow banners lining the streets. We parked, put on our sarongs, and sat down in the back of the temple where the entire village was gathered. Three generations of villagers were gathered. all dressed alike in white hats, white shirts and colorful sarongs. We were warmly welcomed, the only White people in attendance, and proceeded to watch the celebration for hours. Groups of men played gamelons and sang tales of good and evil with brightly colored faces and costumes as "the evil ones." Women carried tall offerings of fruit and flowers to the altar. All villagers smiled, laughed, and cheered. An English speaker explained that this special ceremony occured once every 50 years and everyone born in that village returns to celebrate together as "one." Love was shared throughout the ceremony.

So, I was left with the question, "Where is my village?" Is there one place I can call my home where everyone knows me and my past? Being an Army brat, we moved every 3 years from one base to another to houses which all looked alike. Most of my American friends are transplants as well, moving many times in their youth and often across the country.

Now I call Portland my village, but it is not the same as that Balinese village is for its members. I know half of my neighbors but know very little about their early lives or their parents' lives. We in the West are missing this feeling of "my village" and have lots to learn from these Balinese people who have a true identity and sense of real belonging in this one place called "my village."

"Trade Offs in Paradise"

Daily life here in Ubud, Bali is a feast for the five senses. You awake to the songs and calls of thousands of tropical birds, cicadas chirping, water gushing by in the rice canals, and the sight of bright purple, yellow, orange, red and green flora at every turn. But there is a trade off for all of this tropical beauty. Insects and wild animals abound and roam freely in this tolerant, friendly Hindu island. Tourists can easily suffer from prolific mosquito and "no see um" bites, barking wild dogs, sunburns, and hungry Macaque monkeys wandering the roads and forests.

I discovered some trade offs on my fourth day in Bali after sitting by the hotel pool for an hour. My entire epidermis felt little stinging sensations as small red bumps appeared all over my front and back. After seven days, all the bites continue to itch (at night too) and I now wear full length clothing, using repellent and sunscreen until bedtime.

On our trips to town for meals, ATMs and dance performances, we walk on the Monkey Forest Road, a beautiful jungle with paved paths and hundreds of wild Macaque monkey living there. They obviously own the place, venturing out for any food a walker may carry, and jump quickly on you to get it. So, now we bring nothing but rupias (Indonesian money) and walk as far as possible from these furry critters hanging out on the path. Now I enjoy the jungle.

To enjoy traveling in new countries and adventure takes some education and experience. As I scratch my many bites under my sarong, I grin and and happily pay this price to experience Beautiful Bali.

An International Walk to the Village

Being good tourists, yesterday Chuck and I signed up for the "village walk" from our hotel to the nearest local town here in Bali. We loved walking through the lime green rice fields, learning about cultivation of Bali's biggest crop. With 200 million children in Indonesia, more rice must be imported to feed this growing population. We also enjoyed visiting a local painter's home, seeing his traditional paintings of Balinese dancers. We discovered the motive behind the walk - to sell handicrafts to tourists. Oh well....
But our favorite thing about the walk was meeting our fellow hotel guests. We liked the family from Perth, Australia - 2 professional parents and adopted teenage daughter. But what a special pleasure to meet the Muslim family from Djakarta, 2 parents and their law student son, Dande. Both parents are physicians at the university and Mom always wears a head scarf and clothing from head to toe. Speaking impeccable English, they were able to discuss many things with us such as funny parenting stories. So, it was a surprise to learn that this good family and their friends are unable to visit the U.S. It costs them $150 nonrefundable aplication fee and the application for a visa can be (and is) denied for no reason. All their friends have been denied. These doctors wish to attend a medical seminar in LA to improve and share their medical skills, but "no luck Charlie!" So they have given up.
Once again, traveling has given us a new perspective on our own country. We think of America as a "land of immigrants" and yet we keep out highly skilled, peaceful professionals on the basis of their race or religion (or from fear). Then, one must remember the Islamic terrorist from Ft. Hood to understand a reason for this policy. But is it fair and are we losing something? It goes to show that we live in a connected, but very complicated world.