The sun was shinning brightly, quite hot on the road as our motor bike made 40km/hr along the licorice strap road to Pandang Bai, the major port on the east coast. There were all kinds of activity to be observed from the bamboo, cutters, log sawyer’s and stone cutters. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a white marble statue 3meter high a copy of the famous “Statue of David” there was no fig leaf of modesty instead there was a double set of genitalia leaning sleepily by the loins. I really did not take much notice until we stopped at the traffic lights 50 meters down the road. I was staring at a huge billboard advertising
Clove Cigarettes, at the bottom of the sign was the government warning of the dangers of smoking. This was a good moment to practice my Bahasa Indonesia. I was looking for the translation of the words we normally find on Cigarette packets at home such as lung cancer, gum ulcers and the like. There was nothing like that just a statement that the advertising guru’s in Indonesia knew would hit home. ”If you smoke you will become impotent”
In this country children are much loved and are seen every where with there mothers at work, being carried on motor bike by their fathers along with the caged chickens, or coconuts
tied to the back seat. The children are an investment in the future, either as additional workers in the family business or as superannuation for the parents.
Like wise in Padang Bai, sitting in the shade of yet another statue, this time it was a horse, white marble, life size, a stallion no doubt judging by the large erect penis which some one had touched up by painting the flange bright red.
Art reflects life.
There is no hidden meaning or obtuse eroticism such as Robert Herrik’s “a piece of erring lace” to describe a maid the poet fancied. Indonesian art is honest in it portrayal of everyday life.
Having a beer a hotel my eye was taken by the carving of animals on the top of a wall. There were two pigs fornicating, with a look of happiness and contentment not just of one pig’s face but on both.
Bali has attracted artists from all over the world and you can see why when you visit Ubud, almost in the centre of Bali. Ubud is not really a city but a collection of thatched hotels, homestay’s and cottages surrounding the local market. It appears that the major occupation here is art of one form or another.
More recently a new form of art in and around Ubud attracts Europeans, middle aged women in particular. That is art that encompasses the body. The art of yoga, massage and liver cleansing diets.
The Lonely Planet best describes Ubud in a passage entitled
THAT DAMN BOOK.
“You see them everywhere these days in Ubud: women of a certain age strolling the streets with that look. A mixture of self satisfaction, entitlement and too much yoga, with maybe just a hint of desperation that the haven’t yet found their Felipe. You know a rich Brazilian who can bed you silly for an entire month. Yes it is the readers of
Eat, Pray, Love, the best selling Elizabeth Gilbert book that chronicles the authors search for self fulfillment ( and further fulfillment of a book contract) across Italy ,India and of course Ubud.”
The monkeys in Monkey forest road command a park are well catered for by the bus loads of tourists with bananas nuts and cocacola ,day in and day out they must have been watched by the hard of hearing Elizabeth Gilbert. It is from observing monkeys that the title of her book emerged ,’Eat, fuck and play’.
It was in a restaurant along Monkey forest road that by chance we were seated near three American women from Pennsylvania. One of the women produced “that Dam book” from a bag and flashed around it around the restaurant. Three exotic, green drinks arrived at their table, with ice blocks and straws accompanied with three bottles of expensive European soda water. It was part of a detox program. Lawn clippings that had been hand fed through a food processor and then let breathe for an hour or so in the refrigerator before being aerated with soda.
These girls who had more rumples than Rumple Stiltskin were living the dream,
Victims of advertising. Two large pizzas and a few cigarettes later they left the table
cleansed.
