Monday, 28 November 2011

A Brief Immersion in Balinese Culture

The past several days have been spent in a cloud of sticky humidity and scorching heat. In Bali!
We stayed in the tourist melting pot of Kuta. Humid and dirty, its narrow and un-planned streets are dense with stalls and shops brimming with tourist tat. Locals call out to you every few steps, “Yes, looking?”- “You want?” – “T-shirt, boss?” as you negotiate the randomly laid out terrain, ever remodelled and built- upon.
The traffic is never-ending. Taxis, millions of scooters, bicycles, cars, vans, all vie for the limited space on the roads (and, often off them too). Car horns interrupt the general hum of engines often and, as it first appears, indiscriminately. I soon realised that horns were not, as in India, being beeped without reason though. As one local driver put it, “It’s the easiest way to let others know you are there.” This makes sense; however, the one overlaying problem in this is that it is so busy it’s often rather difficulty to distinguish one horn from another!
We didn’t enjoy the over commercialised centre of Bali, but because we were stuck there, we found pleasure in little things instead.
The trip was enlightening for a few reasons. Firstly it provided us with the impetus to learn a second language. I have always wished my Malaysian/Thai heritage would have meant I was bi- or multi-lingual. Sadly this was not the case, as my Grandma never did pass on her mother-tongue to her children.
Ryan learnt Indonesian in school and still remembers several key phrases and words, so what better language to learn? We have a head start, in that Ryan can speak a little and it is virtually indistinguishable from Malaysian, apart from the odd word or phrase, so one day I may be able to speak with my family in Malaysia. Nabeela has taken to the language like a fish to water (she can count to 5 already and was busy shouting ‘terimah kasih- thank you and several greetings to locals throughout our stay).
Speaking of fish, we also spent a huge amount of time in the water. It was so sticky hot that I needed to be wet most of the time, just to keep from melting into a puddle of mush. Nabeela’s confidence in the water increased drastically by the end of the holiday and she is beginning to go through the motions of paddling and actively kicking her legs to travel through the water. Our little fish adored the cool waters of the hotel pool. On our last day in Bali we rustled up the extortionate fee to enter a huge outdoor water park, for Bee’s pleasure. Her excited giggles and beaming smiles made up for the overblown tourist prices.
What made the holiday were the local Balinese. Everywhere we went we were greeted with huge grins and a barrage of curious, but completely innocent questions, about Nabeela and our family. They were awed by our little toddler. Her name is- according to the locals- an Indonesian name, meaning something along the lines of Celebration (how pertinent). This coupled with their love of children and strong family values meant we were made to feel so special and rich for what we have: a beautiful daughter and a happy marriage. So far removed from the typical westerner’s views of family- where families with kids are made to feel excluded from ‘normal’ activities or any hint of fun. The Balinese embrace children (figuratively and literally!) and find their behaviours exactly what they are: normal! No being made to feel uncomfortable if your child breaks something by accident or widdles on the floor. As one man succinctly said, “That OK, children do things like that.”
At all the restaurants where we enjoyed Balinese cuisine, Beela was handed around amongst the staff, cuddled, kissed, prodded (gently) and photographed. She loved being swept away to be the centre of peoples’ attentions and lavish hugs and smiles. Any children that she met she instantly liked, including one little local boy (about six months older than she) who she shared a coy cuddle with, and a kiss!
After being made to feel so welcome, we barely needed to tour the island. Soaking up the way of life of this country was enough for us, particularly on our limited time frame.
We did tour around a little, however. Taxis are very cheap and so we found that flagging one down (usually within seconds of looking) and travelling on the meter was the most comfy, if not the most efficient, way of getting anywhere. Efficiency isn’t really expected in such bustling, narrow-laned chaos. To walk the same distance may take you an equal length of time, however the sun beating you to a sticky glop is usually enough to force a retreat into a cool taxi.
We briefly visited Nusa Dua- a neat tourist resort of little interest to people who like to get away from the familiarities of their home country, but with a calm swimming beach to cool down from the bubbling heat outside. We sat on reserved-for-hotel-guests-only loungers, eating street stall-bought nasi goreng (fried rice) and fresh whole mangoes, dripping sweet nectar over the plastic armchair and washing the stickiness away in the ocean.
On another day we visited Ullu Watu Wat, a temple south of Kuta, perched high up, overlooking the Indian Ocean from the cliff top. There, hugging the cliff-top, we took in rich green views peppered with orange and red blossoms. We looked down on the might of the sea as it crashed continuously against the slowly eroding cliff face, with the temple stood watch above: a silent sentinel and shrine to the Balinese own branch of Hinduism.
What we enjoyed most from our multitude of taxi drives was the ability to sit back and watch the country speed by and listen to the drivers interesting conversations.
One time, as Nabeela perched sleeping on my own knee I watched as a family sped past on their scooter. A baby of around Beela’s age sandwiched and also asleep, between mother and father was oblivious to the heat, fumes and clamour around her.
An old man, reminding me so much of my own father (who of course could never be described as an old man!) grumbled on and on about his life. He spoke of his immersion in the tourist market and of the politics that renders him unable to leave.
As he talked I noticed his black hair, sprinkled with white, poking out from under his baseball cap, crinkled eyes portraying the gulf between himself and his grown-up children, the resigned tilt of his head as he told of the necessity of tourism, the curled half-smile as he mentioned the corruption permeating the country. “So many scooters and many accident!” He answered when we asked about the traffic problems, “People don’t even wear helmets.” Though they are supposed to, most tourists get away with a cursory warning and the underhand loss of ten dollars. Corruption in practice.
Another joy in Bali was the food. This may not be much of a surprise to anyone who knows us. For us life does revolve around eating, after all! We began the holiday eating in tourist restaurants, which were fine and still reasonably cheap. But quickly we noticed the small roadside stalls and the unobtrusive cafe’s which locals frequented. We began eating in these instead. Much cheaper than tourist places, they had an expectant and friendly feel to them. The staff often watched us as we tucked into the gloriously rich nasi goreng, fluffy plain white rice, crisp tempeh, fried tofu, sautéed greens and salty garlic sauce- I think they were pleased we had chosen them instead of the typical tourist hang- outs and were impressed by our wish to eat true local cuisine.
We all gorged ourselves on fruit. The juices are sensational. We enjoyed papaya, mango, pineapple and creamy thick avocado on plenty of occasions. My IBS didn’t bother me once and I have put it down to eating mainly cooked food. The amount of fruit we ate should have had me doubled over in bloated belly agony, but I was fine. So I may replicate this diet back home and go back to cooking most of my food. I love the idea of a highly raw diet, but after persevering for several months, my bowels are not allowing me to enjoy it or benefit from it.
Being vegan was no problem in most places, particularly when eating at a local place. We only encountered problems with egg, as it seems to be added to everything, and possibly fish. I am quite sure we unsuspectingly ate these two items on a few occasions, much to our disappointment. There is little to be done though, but move on from it.
I left as an Australian tourist and came back as a fully-fledged Permanent Resident! During our stay in Bali I checked my emails, just to make sure my visa was coming along ok and received the exciting news that my CO had granted me a P100 visa.
Initially my heart sank, as I thought it was only the temporary version and I would have a two year ‘trial’ period before being able to apply for the permanent visa. I was, happily, wrong and he had actually granted me permanent residency! The relief washed over me and (once back in the hotel room, away from curious eyes) I danced my ‘I’m-a-permanent-resident’ jig to Ryan and Nabeela’s raised eye-brows.
Entry back into Australia was somewhat of an anti-climax. My eagerness to get back to my new home was stifled when my expectations were squashed. I don’t quite know what I was expecting- a fan-fare complete with brass band and dancing? That would have been nice! If not that, then at least the customs official could have welcomed me to my new home. Instead she didn’t even mention it, only giving me congratulations when Ryan pointed it out. I do have a stamp in my passport commemorating the momentous occasion, however. That will have to do!

Wednesday, 23 November 2011

A Belated Introducton

Welcome to the blog. I hope my email ‘fans’ move over to this way of connecting with us from now on. I hope it will be easier all around.
Just a little background embellishment for people who haven’t read my past entries yet. Ever since moving back to the UK with Ozzie husband Ryan in tow we had talked of leaving again in the future- and hopefully before we got sick of it!
During our life in the UK we rented a couple houses (so as not to tie us there too much), had our daughter Nabeela/Bee/Beela (or various other connotations) and made some life-long friends. And I won’t forget the special time we had seeing our niece growing up from a tiny dot into a gorgeous little girl. Ryan also managed to change career direction completely and hopes to use these skills to get a flexible job back in Oz.
So after 4 years in the UK we were thoroughly sick of the weather and our prospects over there. We made a decision to knock down our previous barriers and just get moving.
Actually it may have been that I made the decision, whilst Ryan stalled for time. I distinctly remember saying to him, ‘I don’t care what barriers you throw at this, I am putting my foot down and we are going!’
Whatever I said, it gained the desired outcome and we quickly began arranging the complex and money-draining process of visas, citizenship and dual passports for Bee.
Along with this we had to rid our lives of most material possessions, down to a skeleton of essentials. But most heart-wrenching of all were the goodbyes to our beloved friends and family, including the family dog, Sam, who had been a constant thread in all our lives since we first met.
Armed with only the bags we could carry (or couldn’t carry as we later found) we left, teary eyed and somewhat melancholy, despite the huge adventure that awaited us.
Truthfully it all seemed like a huge anti-climax at first. I missed my family and friends so much that there were moments when, if someone had given me a return ticket back, I would have snatched it out of their hands and been off on the next flight.
After a good month and with familiarity and routine setting in, I only have these days occasionally and the raw pain is somewhat numbed by knowing that we are already having a better life here and that’s after less than two months.
Already we have made friends of a like-minded persuasion with kids; enjoyed the beach life fully, immersing ourselves in the pleasures of the sea; begun living the simple life we always strive for; and done things that I always wished to do, but didn’t (like getting dreads and enjoying a festival).
So our path to simplicity, freedom of our own making and natural living and family values is being trodden and we are all glowing within from it!

Friday, 18 November 2011

Bitter Sweet

From this day onwards sugar will not pass my lips!
At least not much sugar will. I have tried all the different intolerance diets for my IBS symptoms and nothing so far has eased my bloated belly or (sorry to say) excess wind. I’ve given up wheat, gluten, dairy (which I now don’t eat for ethical and environmental reasons), soy and all of the permutations that go with this. Nothing has changed things!
The only thing I have yet to cut out is sugar (or more specifically fructose). Probably for the very reason I should have stopped eating it: I love it and crave it! Anyone who knows me (even in a cursory way) knows I love sweet things and I have managed to push the thought of having to stop eating it from my mind for too many months now.
Finally I am ready to grow up and move on. So I am attempting to limit sugar to two serves of fresh fruit a day and that is pretty much it. No more dried fruit, raw fruity desserts, chocolate (oh, my!) or added honey/agave/maple.
Hopefully when this works (or should I say if?), I will be able to introduce it back into my diet slowly. But never in the amounts I’ve been known to eat it in!
Sticking with the diet changes yarn- we have initiated the last step towards veganism- we are not buying eggs anymore. Not that we are complete vegans- we’re still going to wear wool (second-hand or organic) and use bee products. Unusually it was Ryan who instigated the removal of eggs from our diet, after coming across various bits of information relating to the ethics of eating eggs and the environmental aspects.

Thursday, 17 November 2011

The Visa Arrives!

Today we received the news we have wanted since we arrived...my visa is in the process of being granted! The only thing we need to do now is leave Australia. For some reason, to grant the visa you must be out of the country. On the plus side though, you can go to any country you wish- so we’re going to Bali!
Here it is in all its (edited) glory...

Dear Mrs M,

I refer to your current migrant visa application.

The processing of your application has reached the stage where I am in a position to grant your visa.  If your application is granted, you will be required to make an initial entry to Australia before 15 July 2012.  This “initial entry date” is linked to the expiry of your health and character checks and cannot be altered or extended after visa grant.

However, one of the criteria for the grant of this subclass of visa is that you must be outside Australia at the time of grant of visa.

Departmental records show that you are currently in Australia.  Therefore, you will need to leave Australia before I can grant your visa.

Please advise me by email or by facsimile of your intended date of departure from Australia, flight number and country of destination.  It is important that you receive confirmation from me that I have received this information before you travel. If you do not receive confirmation from me, there may have been a problem with the email transmission and you should try to contact me again.
  
In order to ensure that your travel plans have not changed, could you also please reconfirm your travel details - by email or facsimile - the day before you depart Australia.
   
It is important that you provide this office with the requested information within 28 days of the date of this letter. If you do not respond within the given time frame, a decision on your application will be made based on the information contained on your file at that time.

Yours sincerely
Case Officer
After reading this exciting news, Nabeela perched on my knee looking up at me, I began to screech happily, much to Nabeela’s bemusement.
Sadly the next thing I read (on facebook) was the tragic news of my ex-teacher, Mike’s death. I will mention this as my way of thanking him for being a wonderful and interesting teacher and for all the long chats we had after lessons. Thanks Mike for injecting a small amount of your enthusiasm of photography into me and for your kindness.
So with this mixture of wonderful and tragic news I rushed over to Ryan, simultaneously crying and smiling. He was suitably confounded.
Later in the day we stopped in at the travel agents to enquire about the price of a holiday to Bali. We left the shop a couple of grand lighter in the wallet (or more specifically on the credit card) and with wide grins spread across our faces. We’re going to Bali in ten days!

Wednesday, 16 November 2011

Dreadlocks

The dreadlocks are forming...slowly! It has been nearly a week since D demonstrated the non-chemical laden technique to Ryan, and he began. So far he has completed all but 4 or 5. I have a lot of hair and probably about 50 individual dreads! But after the initial shock- from both the pain to my poor raw scalp and from finding sleep quite uncomfortable with these bulky strands of hair digging in all over, I now love them!
They are settling in nicely now, no more feeling uncomfortable at night and I love that my once wavy hair has been transformed into a frizzy mass of thick strands of rope, sticking out all over- it keeps it away from my neck (which used to cause my considerable aggravation) and I like the way they look!

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

Lessons in Joy

We have spent the past several days doing little of writable interest, but having lots of fun all the same. We have spent much of our time with the Big Family (as I will re-name them). Because the days have been so hot we have spent much of our time on the beach during the cooler parts of the day or holed up in the big camp kitchen talking about our travels and way of life, comparing notes on Australia and the way we do things or learning new skills.
I have finally learned how to crochet. So I will be busy honing this skill over the months and trying to make bits and pieces for presents. Ryan and I have both learnt how to bake bread. It is something I have always been meaning to do, yet for some reason the idea has never stuck. But now I have seen how easy and cheap it really is (ignoring all those time-consuming, fancy recipes and bread-makers) we will begin at once.
Ryan and I have learnt how to form dread-locks and I am eager to begin them on my hair. It is something I have been considering for quite some time, on and off over the years. Yet I have never gone ahead with it! So we now have the kit and, despite the internal groans I can hear from my family, next time I speak to them I will have a ‘new’ head of hair (hopefully)!
Nabeela has matured so much in the past week. Being able to spend time with un-schooled children of such a diverse range of ages (from nearly three to eight) she has learnt much about an assortment of things. She has watched enthralled as the youngest has been dragged along the beach on a body board, skimming a thin skin of water and squealing with delight, before rolling away into the foam. She has delighted in playing in the park and learning how to successfully climb up the slide and slither back down it. She is slowly learning about crafts and how you tend not to eat everything you see, but instead make things with them (this is an ongoing process and much of the time she still insists on eating all bits of paper or cardboard she gets her hands on). She is assimilating the skills needed for riding a bike and sometime attempts to sit in the saddle. She is stringing together much more sophisticated sentences now and volunteers information more freely than previously.
I am beginning to see the delights in having a tribe of children rather than just a couple!

Thursday, 3 November 2011

Salt-Encrusted and Eager

Today I went to the cinema...with Nabeela! Walking up to the cinemas, babe quietly sitting in the sling, I stopped off at the health food shop to pick up some ‘healthy’ treats. I made my way into the cinema, paid for my parent and toddler ticket and realised that I may actually get to watch the film uninterrupted, because Nabeela had fallen to sleep!
I luxuriated in the time I had to watch a meaningless film, eat sweet things and relax. This lasted for about half the film before Beela woke up in a sunny mood. I came prepared with plenty of toys. She wandered the isles clinging happily to her wooden spoon and cup whilst I watched the film (and her out of the corner of my eye). Eventually she came and sat beside me and became enthralled by the big screen begging to be watched. I was slightly disconcerted as the film was not really child friendly, with giant guns glinting and bullets flying all over. I kept imagining Nabeela turning to me, arm raised, shouting ‘bang, bang’! Luckily all of the violence seemed to pass over her head and only the things that she could comprehend made any dent. So she kept turning to me saying various phrases like ‘man running fast’ or ‘big cars’. It was exciting to be able to see a grown-up film with my daughter playing beside me!
Once the film was over and Ryan had finished his cleaning we met up and headed to the library to peruse the shelves and do some research. Ryan’s research was on job and training opportunities and mine was in a similar vein, but surrounded my writing ambitions.
The Writers and Artists Yearbook is a little gem for information and general motivation. Just flicking through to read short sections was enough for me to realise how helpful it will be for my writing prospects. The first article I read was by my (newly realised) favourite author, Terry Pratchett where he made me smile as he usually does!
I slowly accumulated a tottering pile of books and magazines to take home- some for research purposes, others to further my reading and more just for fun.  Later we found that we hadn’t actually taken them with us! Although I’d checked them out, Ryan hadn’t realised I had left them in a pile for him to pick up (I was carrying the heavy toddler) and just walked off leaving my precious collection behind! He is still paying for this error!
Outside the confines of four dingy walls, the day felt calm and the sun shone merrily on all, although it didn’t have that usual Aussie kick to it. To expel some energy and reconnect with ourselves and the earth we headed straight for the sea. I was determined to do a little swimming and so, bracing myself for the cold waters, I ran in and out several times to ease my body into it and finally submerged my entire body. This method seemed to work well- running in up to leg height, then running out. Then running in a little deeper and running back out, until I finally ran back in to be completely submerged. Even if it hadn’t worked, Nabeela found my strange antics highly amusing!
Her laughter and excitement didn’t end there however. She thoroughly enjoyed her sea swimming education. She learnt about how the ocean movements feel on her body as the waves roll in. I modelled the up and down movement whilst she was in my arms and by the end she was calling out ‘up and down’ as she rolled with the waves. She also began kicking her legs and flailing her arms in a jerky and uncoordinated imitation of doggy paddle. Completely unfazed by all of these new feelings and movements, she even had her face splashed several times and still came out grinning. If Ryan is serious about wanting a little ‘surfer chick’ for a daughter I have no doubts he will get his wish!
Back at the caravan park, salt encrusted and on the chilly side, we got into conversation with a newly arrived family of seven. Both parents and their five children seem on first impressions like a lovely family: relaxed, calm and with a very similar lifestyle and views to us. I was so excited about meeting some potential friends that I was reluctant to leave to shower away the salt for fear of missing out or FOMO as I have abbreviated it to! I did (shower) and didn’t (miss out)..! But we will certainly be catching up with them again soon.