I Had a Run In with the Cops in Bali

Today I went and got my international driving permit. Although I don't plan on driving during my stay in Israel I decided it was better to be safe than sorry. Plus, it's kind of cool. I'm now legal to drive in well over 100 countries. I got both my car and motorcycle license transferred to my international license.

All the countries I'm legal to drive in for the next year.

You might have noticed a specific country in the "I" section. No, not Israel. Indonesia. Fun fact: you need a Indonesian drivers license or International driving license to operate a motor vehicle in Indonesia. So, with neither of these in hand, I rented a motor scooter in Bali. And... I had a run in with the cops.

When I began researching whether to rent a scooter in Indonesia I found website after website with comments and chat pages talking about renting in Bali. It was a well discussed fact that cops like to pull over foreigners so that they can make some pocket money off of intimidatingly asking for their licensing. I actually met a man at a coffee shop in Ubud who said he'd been pulled over before and threatened to be detained at the police station and charged for millions of rupiah. Conveniently, the few hundred rupiah of pocket money he and his buddy had allowed them to avoid such a fate. Still, the last thing I wanted was a run in with the police.

I actually wrote an article about my biggest tip for driving in Bali for Pink Pangea. Essentially, I wore clothes. As in, I traveled Bali in jeans and long sleeves. One particular benefit is that as I fly by on the scooter it is much harder to tell I'm foreign if none of my skin is showing. I made it my whole trip without problem. With two hours before I had to return the scooter, I decided to take it a few blocks from my hotel to get dinner. I ashamedly admit I traveled in shorts. 

I parked near the beach and wandered a bit getting food and enjoying the evening before returning to my scooter. There are parking attendants everywhere in Indonesia. So, per usual, the attendant approached me as I began to back out and I mindlessly asked how much the fee was in my Indonesian. The attendant perked up and asked me the typical "where are you from" "how do you know Bahasa" questions as I dug up the cash and started my scooter. All was well. Until it wasn't.

Right as I started to pull onto the street I got flagged down by not one, but two cops. My friend Tanto had warned me that if it happened I should pretend I don't speak a word of the language and play the innocent/clueless foreigner card. So I tried not to panic as they approached me.

Cop 1 (looking stern and speaking in English): "You speak Indonesian?"

Cop 2 (also in English): "We heard you speaking with the attendant." 

The second cop gestured to the parking attendant, who at this point looked just about as nervous as I felt. My mind was racing a mile a minute, particularly with a lot of expletives toward my situation. I somehow managed to pull together a stuttering response (my usual go to) saying that I only spoke a little bit. However, with my one sentence both cops' demeanor completely changed. They grinned and started (friendly) interrogating me in Indonesian: where I was from, how I liked Indonesia, where I'd been, the questions kept coming. I wasn't about to lie to a cop so I answered. However, I knew that I was on a metaphorically sinking ship. There was no way they could think I innocently decided to climb on a scooter. I was going to be reprimanded, I was sure of it. I kept waiting for the next question to be "can we see your license"? Except the first question to throw me off wasn't them asking me for my license, but them asking me if I paid the attendant. I nodded and they called the attendant over. The feeling of dread in my stomach kept getting worse. How long were the cops going to drag this out?

The attendant came over and the cops actually started interrogating him! Except it wasn't normal. I had a hard time understanding all of it (it could have been in Balinese) but there was one part that I caught (I have a feeling they purposely worded it either easily or in Bahasa Indonesia). They asked the attendant 'why he would charge such a beautiful foreign girl who liked Indonesian culture enough to learn the language' the parking fee. Seriously. The dread disappeared. By no means was I comfortable with the situation, but my panic started to morph into amusement. The cops argued with the attendant to have him give me my money back, and when he refused (everyone has to pay, he argued) the cops changed tactics. They turned back to me and started explaining (in a mix of Bahasa and English) how I should only trust Indonesian men without facial hair. It should be noted the attendant had facial hair while the cops didn't. The told me it was because Indonesians with facial hair would... (I lost their meaning here, but it was obviously something negative) ...and Indonesians without mustaches are the best Indonesians, and more attractive.

The. Cops. Were. Flirting. With. Me.

I kid you not. I traveled to the other side of the world, obviously ignored a law, and the cops pulled me over not to reprimand me, but to flirt with me! I never realized America's Unofficial Ambassador's requiring me to take Bahasa Indonesia classes would have effects like this.

So, I was scared (and humored) into realizing that I should get an international license before my trip to Israel. Now I'm prepared for the next time I catch a foreign police officer's fancy. 

One Last Day in Jakarta, and One Long Journey Home

A view of Jakarta I captured on camera while at the top of the National Monument.

Jakarta: the bustling capital of Indonesia. Sort of like a twin sister of New York City, but with all of the ASEAN qualities that I've come to love. Oh, but

with a ton more traffic. This was the setting of my last day of my summer adventures.

Ayu had business she had to attend to in Jakarta, and so she took the extra effort to schedule it to correspond with my visit. She appeased my desire to attend to all the generally sightseeing opportunities in central Jakarta and met me that morning at the National Museum; also known as the elephant building.

The front view of the National Museum.

We explored the building in relaxed Ramadan-induced pacing. It was so weird being able to reflect on the history and locations in Indonesia that I had already experienced first hand. There were models of Borobudur and Prambanan that just made me amazed at everywhere I'd gotten to visit during my stay.

This is me in front of an ethnic map detailing Indonesia's diversity at the National Museum.

After the National Museum Ayu, her sister, and I decided to relocate to another significant location near Merdeka Square, the Istiqlal Mosque.

My best picture of the mosque was taken from the top of the National Monument.

The mosque is huge, in fact, it's the largest in Southeast Asia. It's the national mosque and holds a ton of Islamic and Indonesian symbolism in its architecture. Additionally, it holds symbolism regarding the religious diversity in Indonesia for a couple of reasons. First, the designing architect was actually Christian. And Sukarno, one of Indonesia's past presidents, wanted the mosque to be located near Jakarta Cathedral and Immanuel Church to symbolize the religious tolerance and harmony promoted in the Pancasila. You can actually see the cathedral framed between the main part of the mosque and it's minaret in the picture above.

However, inside the mosque tells a different story. After entering Ayu and her sister were stopped by a man at a long desk near the entrance. They chatted briefly and then Ayu retreated toward me seemingly put off and wouldn't immediately explain what just happened. Turns out, they aren't too keen on non-Muslims entering the main floor of the mosque. Ayu and her sister wanted the chance to pray during our visit, however I was not allowed to join them. Additionally, I was not allowed to explore the other areas of the mosque on my own, particularly because I was a single woman. So instead, I got to sit at some chairs near the entrance of the mosque. However, I got the chance to take some selfies with the mosque cat. Which, I'm assuming was also not allowed to venture into the main part of the mosque.

Exile buddies.

I had to wait for Ayu and her sister to finish before I was allowed to explore the specifically allowed areas of the mosque. Aka the balconies above the main area.

The inside's so big it's actually hard to get a decent picture view. So I'm borrowing this one.

Additionally, I had to register myself in the official book of visitors where I was required to log my name, signature, and religious affiliation. And then I had to wear a batik robe denoting my obvious foreign status as I walked around.

In my special attire on the balcony overlooking the main floor.

It was strange being segregated inside the mosque, and in the national mosque no less! I'm not mad or upset, only a little disappointed. The rest of Indonesia is wonderful at promoting the beautiful diversity in religion that the region holds, and has always welcomed me regardless of religion. I've broken fast during Ramadan at a mosque, attended a Javanese Catholic worship service, bathed in spiritually holy Hindu pools, and climbed the seven levels to Buddhist nirvana at Borobudur. And yet, despite being educated on the history of Islam, studying the Qur'an, and speaking Arabic, I am still unfit to walk in certain areas of the national mosque that supposedly embodies the religious pluralism of the region.

But after our visit we crossed the street to the previously mentioned Jakarta Cathedral. Although they were technically not open at the time, the church was physically open due to preparations for that evening's mass. So they let the three of us go in and look around on our own.

The inside of the cathedral.

One of my favorite pictures of the day, particularly significant to me due to our earlier experience, was this one I took of Ayu's sister lighting a prayer candle in the cathedral right after praying at the mosque. This is the representation of Indonesia that I love.

Afterword I got to meet up and break the fast with some of Ayu's friends from university, who are such a cool group of people.

A collage of our dinner shenanigans.

It was such a fun reunion that I hardly realized that I was minutes away from catching my taxi out of Jakarta. Before the night was through I pulled up in a aptly-timed thunderstorm to my hotel where I would be spending my last few hours in Indonesia. I had booked my reservation in a local hotel chain due to lower prices, however what I didn't realize is how that would lead to the workers speaking the local language.... duh. So after a very short flash of concern, it was rewarding being able to check in, converse with the front desk workers, and pre-arrange to have a taxi waiting for me all in my recently acquired bahasa. Another guest, a mid-aged Indonesian woman, was checking in right before me and upon hearing my use of bahasa before she entered the elevator, rushed back to me, hugged me, and kissed me on the cheeks thanking me for having the interest in her country and culture to learn the language. It was sort of off putting, but charming nonetheless.

With my adventures at a close, I prepared to depart. Before sunrise the next day I was plane-bound to Tokyo, then Newark, then Buffalo, and then accidently to Rochester, before finally making it home. 34 hours of travel, well worth my 8 weeks of summer adventures.

Exploring Jakarta

I woke up with a slight bit of dread. I scheduled two days in Jakarta, but I only made plans for one. I made sure to wake up early, because I didn't want to waste my limited hours in the city, but that didn't mean I knew what to do with them!

So I got ready and left my hostel in search of some breakfast. Usually this would be a simple enough task, but mid-morning during Ramadan this is an adventure in itself. And of course, I turned and walked in the oppositie direction of all the food locations. I figured that out pretty fast. There should have been options within four minutes of my hostel, but I assumed if I kept walking I would find an option eventually. Well, fourty minutes later in 95 degree heat I was about ready to give up and grab a cab back to my hostel.

What was particularly annoying was that everyone tried to just point me to the national monument when they saw I was a foreigner walking around. Eventually, this one man behind me started walking faster and faster until he was following rather closely behind. Aware of this, I turned into a hotel lot and loitered near their parking lot security guard hoping the man would just pass. He didn't. He aproached me and asked if I was going to the monument. I said sure because usually that answer got people off my back the fastest. He was different though, he said he was going there and would walk me there himself. 

I know traveling around as a single woman can be dangerous. However, there are also moments when you have to use your judgement. I had nothing better to do, and he was being followed (now almost a block behind due to him trying to catch up with me) by three people, two of whom were hijabi women. They seemed nice and I was in a public area and would be around more and more security every meter we traveled closer to the monument. So I took him up on his offer. Might as well see the national monument, right?

Turns out his name is Imam and he works as a culinary artist for a nice hotel in the area. He's from central Java, not too far from Yogyakarta, and his wife and kids (who were the people with him) had come from their village to visit him in the city that weekend. He spoke decent English, but his wife and children didn't speak any. Regardless, I was suddenly just invited to join them as they toured around the monument.

Imam's wife and kids in front of me as we approach the monument. 

Some of Jakarta's skyscrapers standing out from behind the historial relief around the monument. 

There are short walls of carvings of different symbolic Indonesian images around the base of the monument.

The bottom serves as a base for a museum of Indonesia's history which you can walk around in before lining up to catch an elevator to the balcony at the top. But you can take an elevator to the top, and by far the balcony is the best part about the monument.

The view from the top of the monument.

The view in the other direction.

Hanging out with Imam's daughter on the lower balcony.

It was super nice being invited to tour with them. Both Imam and his wife were chatty, and they were very patient at rewording things until I understood their bahasa. When people overheard me chatting with his wife at the top of the momument it created sort of a frenzy as almost everyone at the momument lined up to take a photo with the white girl speaking bahasa. It was great practice though. Imam would help me if I got stuck on a word, and I was trying to speak with his wife and kids throughout the trip.

After the monument I let them continue on their day and I caught a cab back to my hostel to recouperate and decide on my next adventure. Which of all things happened to be a trip to the mall. I was hot and wanted to be somewhere with aircondiditoning. Plus, I picked the mall that was connected to the fourth tallest building in Indonesia... I figured I'd continue with the accidental trend of looking out over the city. I even timed it so I made it to the top floor right as the sun was setting.

The Jakarta skyline at dusk.

The hazy sunset over Jakarta.

As far as I'm concerned, it was a pretty great view to be taking in as I was enjoying the close of my first day in Jakarta.

The "Inn for Spiritual Travelers"

Although I traveled all around Ubud, I had to pick a location that would be my temporary home despite my nomadic two-wheeled roaming. I got to experience some of the Christian and Muslim culture in Java, so I decided while I was on Bali I should truly round out the inter-faith experience. So on Friday evening I checked myself into an ashram.

I stayed at the Anand Ashram, 3 kilometers north of the main street in Ubud. It was absolutely gorgeous and the two locals who live and work at the ashram are so nice and welcoming. I am so glad I decided to try a different type of housing for my time in Bali. It was really rewarding, and for the most part I didn't even mind the early morning wake up times to make all the pre-dawn programing.

The main inn for the ashram residents. (I think the ashram can hold up to 8 people at a time.)

However I was reassigned to a hut they had on the premises due to another person wanting a traditional room.

Although I personally just think he or she must have been afraid of spiders. I got to shower outdoors with this not so little fellow and some of its friends only inches away from my body. (This one was probably 4 inches in diameter.)

The main center of the ashram. Downstairs and upstairs there's a sort of all inclusive temple. The upstairs is a meditation room and downstairs is a gathering area for yoga or other activities.

The view from the second floor, outside the meditation room.

There was nothing radical or life changing about just three days at the ashram, but it was a beautiful place with an amazing vibe. Everyone passing through on their travels had such great stories and experiences and it was nice to stay with people who valued something other than coming to Bali to get raging drunk on the beach. I think staying here was one of my favorite things I've done in Indonesia.

Ubud Adventures

Friday morning I checked my luggage into my hotel in Kuta, climbed on my motor scooter, and took off. I was headed to Ubud, a little cultural hub in the hilly middle area of Bali. I left almost everything behind, which is why you're getting one big update here at the end.

On my way to Ubud I took a detour to go check out the Taman Ayun temple. It's a Hindu temple surrounded by a moat and beautiful park, and is mostly recognizable from its characteristic temple roofs.

Some of the temple buildings in the Taman Ayun complex.

Here you can see part of the wall and moat surrounding the temple.

Outside the main gates of Taman Ayun.

The drives and our stay in Ubud were beautiful. Bali is known for its beaches, but water can be found all over the island in the local rice farms.

A casual view of the somewhat constant landscape. I'm going to miss this.

More rice fields. And palm trees.

However, even though rice fields are kind of the norm here in Indonesia, there are still some that are just even more beautiful than the general landscape. So one afternoon Suraiya and I took a mini-road trip up to the Tegallalang rice terraces, some of the most famous ones in Bali.

In front of Tegallalang.

The beautiful landscape.

Another mini-road trip we took was to the village of Petulu. Just north of Ubud, it is the nesting site of thousands of herons every evening. It is just a small normal village of local Balinese and we actually questioned whether it could actually be that impressive when we arrived. But right as the sun began to set the birds began flying over in large groups.

However, there's an interesting historical and spiritual aspect to the birds arrival in Petulu. This webpage does the best job describing the mythology behind the herons. The main points are as follows...

"In 1965, a failed coup in Indonesia was attributed to communist conspirators.
A period of mass murder of known or suspected PKI (The Indonesian Communist Party) followers ensued, including a massacre of over 5% of the population of Bali.

According to reports, many, as those in the little village of artisans called Petulu, not far from Ubud, were apparently made to sit on the edge of the mass graves prepared by force by fellow villagers, before being shot - one by one - in the back of the head.
There are reports that elsewhere many Balinese were simply hacked to death with machetes and tossed into the sea...

The survivors in Petulu took action to rid the village of this dreadful negative energy by holding a ceremonial cleansing ceremony in the last week of October 1965 – and on the 7th November the same year, the herons Kokokanarrived for the first time in history."

The birds really do fly from all over the island to only one little stretch of unassuming road in this village. It is hard to come up with another reason for their clockwork arrival every day since 1965. Thousands of them begin to accumulate right at sundown.

Some of the first herons landing on a nearby tree.

A close up of the herons.

The trees become full of the birds.

Every white dot is a heron.

This is Suraiya and I with a local man from the village. He let us onto his uncle's roof so we had a great vantage point to watch the birds fly in from every direction.

The day after, furthering our Hindu-themed journeys, we headed to yet another temple. Called Tirta Empul, it is a temple at a natural spring which is pretty much in the middle of nowhere north of Ubud.

This is actually not Tirta Empul, but another local temple (we're not sure of the name) that we happened by along the drive.

This is the main attraction of Tirta Empul. The natural springs of (supposed) holy water.

A statue on the side of one of the temples at Tirta Empul.

A statue in the pond at the temple.

The temples were absolutely gorgeous.

And the best part, it's interactive. I was able to go in and rinse myself in the springs of holy water.

Convincing Surayia to come in after me took a little more work.

After returning to Ubud, Suraiya and I finally convinced ourselves to visit the Monkey Forrest. Such a huge tourist attraction that one of the main streets in Ubud is actually named after it. It's a little park absolutely full of monkeys. There are hundreds of monkeys in the area, but it's hard to know how many are in the park at any given time since they're actually not confined there. They can go adventure out of the forest whenever and wherever they like, they just tend to congregate in the area because tourists go there to feed them.

Assorted monkeys.

I'm not sure why anyone brings food for them however. They're sneaky and evil little beings, you know, when they're not being adorable. They like to steal people's possessions. 

This monkey had acquired a tourist's water bottle.

This one was able to grab a woman's bag. She made the incredibly unintelligent decision to put bananas in it and dearly paid the consequences. All of her money and travel IDs are in that bag. The monkey was first ripping it open with its teeth (pictured) and then just opened the zipper 100% normally. Oh, and big aggressive male monkeys were attacking any person who got close to the backpack. We left very quickly once the attacking started, so I'm not sure how the situation concluded.

After an exciting few days in Ubud I had to once again get on the bike and head back down to Kuta. It's amazing how comfortable I got navigating around Bali in just a few days. I managed to get back the hour drive to my hotel in Kuta without looking up directions.

This is a "gas station" for a moped. Racks similar to this are all over the street in any corner of the island. Shop, restaurant, and home owners stock up on petrol for motorcyclists to fill up with. They store it in all sorts of bottles. Here you can see the Coke and water bottles, the very typical glass jugs, and another common container: Absolut vodka bottles. Gas usually runs 14,000-15,000 rupiah, or $1.28, to fill up the tank.

The main entrance gate to Kuta beach.

Catching the sunset at Kuta beach on my last night in Bali.

Overall, Bali was an absolutely amazing trip. I loved the freedom of being able to navigate the island without needing a taxi or additional transportation and it was phenominal practice for my bahasa Indonesia skills. (I am so good with asking directions now, you don't even know.) The island's another fantastic part of Indonesia with a unique people and culture all it's own. Although I could do without the culture in the tourist beach areas, I'm so glad I came and got to visit.

Next step? Catching my plane to Thailand!

First Day in Bali!

I'm going to keep this brief because I'm absolutely exhausted tonight, but on the bright side, I'm in Bali! I absolutely can't believe I'm here. Firstly, because it's hard to comprehend that I said goodbye to Yogyakarta, but also because I'm in freaking Bali!

Not only that, but I rented a motor scooter. The next few days are the island, my Honda Vario, and myself taking on Bali. The first time I got on the bike I managed to not be able to turn it on (you can't turn the key if the kickstand isn't entirely back in place, the parking guard pointed out helpfully) and then I preceded to take an hour and a half to find Suraiya's hostel... which is really only 7 minutes away.

Everything from that point was smooth sailing. I expected the driving to be a little more traumatizing. After all, I'm driving on the left side of the road in the country which has some of the worst traffic in the world. But it all worked out! Suraiya and I took our first little trip up to Tanah Lot and managed to make the hour trip each way without getting lost! By the end of the day I was tackling the traffic like a pro.

Tomorrow I'm taking a surfing lesson and then I'm off to Ubud! Wish me luck for all of the above, I'm hoping to arrive tomorrow safely and with as little struggle as possible. But, in the meantime, until you hear from me again, here's pictures from Tanah Lot!

Bali's absolutely gorgeous. It's no Yogyakarta, but it's a little piece of Indonesia all it's own. I can't wait to explore and see more of it!