My students were positioned in orderly rows, girls on one side and boys on the other. They blushed and covered their mouths with their sleeves as I attempted to coax them into conversation. They lowered their eyes, twiddled their hands behind their backs and clamped their mouths shut. There is no sound quite as gut wrenching for a teacher – particularly a fresh-off-the-boat volunteer teacher with no common language to resort to – as silence. Absolute. Silence.

It was the first time I had taught in Indonesia and this was a devout Muslim school where my students were unlike any teenagers I had met before –polite, obedient and softly spoken, that is, when they spoke at all. The girl’s wore their headscarves tight around their ears like white security blankets and they buried their mouths in the material when it came to speaking aloud. The boys giggled nervously each time I addressed them and turned their heads, shyly, towards the ground.

I worked dutifully through the subject list I had been given for our conversation classes and they answered me, reluctantly, with their memorized phrases.“I do not know the answer, Miss.” “My hobby is football.” “I have two brothers and one sister.” Every single answer was the same. It was the teaching equivalent of talking to a brick wall.

This was all wrong. I wanted my students to have fun. I wanted them to lose their inhibitions and express themselves and laugh. I needed them to experiment with new words and phrases, unafraid of the reactions; to play games and make up role-plays, to motivate and challenge each other. This is the only way I knew how to teach a language.

Instead, I talked for two hours about anything I could think of and by the time our lesson was almost over my students had barely mumbled a few phrases. They had learned nothing, they had said nothing and, let’s face it, I was probably going to get fired.

Just as I was about to give in, magic struck. Out of nowhere one of my students put her hand in the air and asked, blushing furiously, if I had ever met Justin Bieber.

“Urm, no,” I admitted. “I haven’t.” “Do you like his music?” she continued. Not really, I thought, wondering if they realized that, as a 25-year-old teacher I wasn’t exactly in the target age range for the Justin Bieber fan club. Instead, I replied, enthusiastically, “Of course I do! Do you?” “Oh my god, I LOVE him!” she declared, her eyes widening in excitement. “He’s so handsome!” the cherub-faced girl next to her gushed, clasping her hands to her heart. Their friends nodded, enthusiastically. Before I knew it, the other girls began to chime in. “Teacher, what’s your favorite song?” Oh god, what was that song called? “Do you like this one?” (Cue singing.) Of course I do. “Do you want me to teach you the dance moves?” Um, sure.

Even the boys joined in. “If I looked like Justin Bieber, I would have many girlfriends,” a chocolate-eyed boy at the back of the class chipped in as a sly grin spread the length of his face.

And just like that, the silence was broken. The words flowed. My students laughed and shouted out and questioned me like I was one of them. Sure, we didn’t converse about local politics or English culture or any of the other subjects on my conversation topics list but who cares? The silence was over.

I never thought I would say this, but thank you, Justin Bieber.  I think you just salvaged my teaching career.

Zoë Smith is an ESL teacher, NGO worker and writer currently based between rural Cambodia and Australia. Links to her published travel writing and short fiction can be found at her website: www.zoeclaresmith.co.uk

“When I was in Bali, I couldn’t wait to get back to Jakarta so I could eat some bread,” my mom told me over the phone when I called from the Indonesian island of Bali.

“Yeah, but that was 30 years ago, right?”

I may have been naive in heading to Bali thinking of beautiful beaches, simple Indonesian food and locals hawking handmade crafts, cheap sundresses and crochet bikinis. Still, nothing could have prepared me for the onslaught of western civilisation that I faced upon arrival, driving through the island’s centre.

While areas of the island further from the airport are more traditional and rural, the downtown centre and Kuta beach are a miniature western paradise. Starbucks, Haagen Daaz, Pizza Hut and McDonalds all flash their neon signs. International surf shops Roxy and Ripcurl are run by young Balinese people, wearing modern clothes.

Kuta beach is full of healthy stray dogs, tourists and local families: it’s a vacation destination for foreigners and Indonesians alike. Smiling Muslim women bathe fully covered, joining their kids in the surf. They are the only ones thinking of modesty: only a few meters down, Italian models frolic in bikinis, posing for a photographer. Tourists from all over Europe and North America wear big sunglasses and short dresses, and enjoy partying at Bali’s trendy nightclubs.

In hotels, to preserve your ‘authentic’ experience, staff dress in traditional clothes and greet you by joining their palms at their chests. Only their clothes remind you that you’re in Bali: the same staff serve a daily international buffet, with excellent food of every kind. You can even have bread if you like.

Bronwyn McBride is a student from Vancouver, BC, and now lives between India and Canada. After quitting her intensive study of circus arts and dance in Quebec, Bronwyn flew across the globe alone to see if she could live in a very different way. It wasn’t her first visit to India, and wouldn’t be her last!

Wherever she is, Bronwyn explores different ways to volunteer and get involved with local communities. She’s worked with severely disabled kids in a Mother Teresa orphanage in Kolkata, crossed the country with a social change performance tour, and has spent long months through the boiling summer in Varanasi, working in a school for girls. Next up: enjoying volunteerism and a foray into Bollywood in India’s cosmopolitan metropolis, Mumbai.

More of Bronwyn’s writing can be found at: www.bronwyngrace.wordpress.com

I had truly landed in expatriate paradise when I was picked up in Jakarta by a driver in an AC van. The vehicle sailed past past gleaming malls and street food stalls, back to my friend’s gated community. There, we were buzzed through by security men, who scanned the car with a weapons detector before allowing us to pass.

Inside the compound were paved roads, enormous marble houses filled with Asian antiques, gyms and swimming pools: all evidence of resident foreigners living western lives in the capital of Indonesia.

My friend and I decided to venture outside of the compound on a walk with her four dogs. Immediately outside the back gate, we found ourselves on a small gravel road that led to a local neighbourhood.

Outside two-room family homes, birds flitted in ornate bamboo cages and chickens patrolled the paths. Javanese women in long shorts played volleyball, laughing with one another. Smiling men smoked and chatted together, sitting on motorbikes. Some ate nasi goreng, the fried rice which is a local specialty. Elderly ladies in nighties threw sopping clothes over clotheslines. Cats stretched out lazily in the afternoon sun, until they noticed our dogs and ran for safety. When we reached a wide open field behind their houses, kids of all ages begged to hold the leashes. They shrieked in excitement and mock terror as they took turns running alongside the dogs.

Though the people of the neighbourhood rarely see foreigners in their space, they greeted my friend and I as we passed saying “Hello! Hello!” We called hello back, happy to have been so graciously accepted in their midst.

Most people who visit stay inside the compound and the malls, my friend remarked when we got back. I’m glad I ventured out.

Bronwyn McBride is a student from Vancouver, BC, and now lives between India and Canada. After quitting her intensive study of circus arts and dance in Quebec, Bronwyn flew across the globe alone to see if she could live in a very different way. It wasn’t her first visit to India, and wouldn’t be her last!

Wherever she is, Bronwyn explores different ways to volunteer and get involved with local communities. She’s worked with severely disabled kids in a Mother Teresa orphanage in Kolkata, crossed the country with a social change performance tour, and has spent long months through the boiling summer in Varanasi, working in a school for girls. Next up: enjoying volunteerism and a foray into Bollywood in India’s cosmopolitan metropolis, Mumbai.

More of Bronwyn’s writing can be found at: www.bronwyngrace.wordpress.com

Liquidy Temples, Butterflies
My last Panorama tour begins at the gorgeous seaside temple of Tanah Lot, which was built in the 16th century on Bali’s southwestern coastline atop rocks pounded by waves. (Beach footgear is suggested.) This being a top visitor attraction tourists must run a gauntlet of peddlers down towards the ocean. There, a cave contains a supposedly mystical snake that can be seen – for an additional fee.

Road to Bali, part 1, Road to Bali, part 2, Road to Bali part 3

Photo by Ed Rampell

Pressing onwards and upwards in a comfy air conned van, the climate becomes cooler. We stop for lunch at the open air Labhagga Restaurant at Pacung, where the buffet of Indonesian food is as so-so as the vistas of rice paddies, mountain ranges, ocean and Saranam Eco-Resort’s thatched roof bungalows beckoning below are spectacular. (While admission to all of the venues on Panorama’s excursions is included in the hotel/tour package, lunches are not.)

From there it’s on to the Floating Temple of Ulun Danu, picturesquely perched on Lake Bratan, which includes a manicured complex of Hindu, Buddhist and Islamic places of worship (Indonesia is the world’s largest Muslim nation), sporting thatched towers and minarets. Motorboats swoosh across the lake; many of the vacationers are Indonesians, drawn to the area’s cooler temperature and mountainous body of water. A black dog ensconced on the lawn either ponders how to eat a hardboiled egg or is participating in an Easter egg hunt.

I’m happy to leave the driving to Panorama. Not only do the Balinese drive on the opposite side of the road, but their streets are often clogged with motorcycles, as cars, vans, buses and trucks play a game of chicken with oncoming traffic and force smaller vehicles to give way. I can’t help but wonder how believing in reincarnation affects Bali’s accident rate and its insurance policies. In any case, this “Heart of

Photo by ed Rampell

The Flight to Bali
There are no non-stop direct flights between Los Angeles and Denpasar, and I flew on Cathay Pacific Airlines, which required me to deplane at Hong Kong, go through security and catch a connecting flight on to Bali. The entire trip took the better part of a day, which is mollified by flying first or business class, which offer innovative, honeycomb type designs. At the press of a button, the ultramodern seats flatten out, turning into beds inside of a cubicle, which is conducive for privacy and sleep, if not conversation. The service is excellent; Chay, a top-flight flight attendant originally from the Philippines greets and chats with passengers. The food is good; we’re served shrimp atop pineapple slices shortly after takeoff, and, astoundingly, even offered seconds. This is followed by a salad with duck, lettuce, red and green pepper slices with vinaigrette. I chose halibut with mushrooms, spinach and potatoes for my entrée. Dessert includes cheeses, crackers, grapes and pecan pie. The entertainment is likewise pleasing with a flat screen TV emerging from the cubicle’s wall, often international music and movies. Having seen the original and headed for Asia, I watch Nicholas Cage’s adaptation of the Thai indie Bangkok Dangerous.

Despite the interminable peddlers, pounding rains, long flights and reckless driving, and even though my promenade down the path towards enlightenment didn’t enable me to attain Nirvana, I’m still glad I was on the road to Bali.

SIDEBAR

Staying There:

Four Seasons Resort Bali at Sayan: (800) 819-5053; http://www.fourseasons.com/sayan/

Four Seasons Resort Bali at Jimbaran Bay: (800) 819-5053; http://www.fourseasons.com/jimbaranbay/

For reservations at both of Bali’s Four Seasons: reservation.fsrb@fourseasons.com.

Parigata Villas Resort: http://www.parigatahotelsbali.com/?page_id=29.

Getting Around There:

Panorama Tours: www.panorama-tours.com.

Getting There:

Cathay Pacific: (800)233-233-3742 ; www.cathaypacific.com.

For The Road to Bali, part 1. For The Road to Bali, part 2

During most of my two weeks in Bali I stay at Parigata Villas Resort, which, as noted, is right near Sanur Beach, where Parigata has the Banjar Café, a seaside eatery and bar providing lounge chairs, sun umbrellas and towels for guests of Parigata’s three properties. The water is quite calm at Sanur, where there are many colorful traditional fishing boats and some noisy jet skis, a boardwalk past shops and restaurants, and but of course those unwelcome, omnipresent hawkers, disturbing reveries and naps with unsolicited offers of massages, et al.

But inside of the resorts one is free of venders’ unwanted meddling, properties provide security, which helps keep peddlers out. My package included breakfasts at Parigata Villas, which is sort of shaped like a traditional Balinese walled compound. In the middle is a watery oasis, but the best thing about this property is that each private villa (which bears the name of a flower, instead of a number) includes a pool and Jacuzzi. This Edenesque intimacy is ideal for couples attaining a nudist Nirvana.

The same was true, and then some, at Bali’s two sensational Four Seasons, which also offered private villas and pools, although both properties are extremely different. The Four Seasons Resort at Sayan — where I underwent my Karmic Cleansing Ceremony — is located inland, amidst terraced rice paddies on expansive, elaborately manicured grounds in a jungle valley the river Agung runs through. One almost has the sense of being cut off from the world in this green serene refuge, which the resort’s p.r. calls “a river sanctuary” and where many villas seem to be subterranean, not obstructing one’s view like high rise hotels often do. Shaded pathways through bamboo groves to the fast flowing river invite one to return to nature. Situated near Ubud, shuttles are available to that artists’ haven and back to Earth.

Sumptuous villas, surrounded by Monet-like water lily ponds with gurgling fountains, are posh enough for pashas. My canopied king-size bed stood inside of a spacious bedroom that opened up to a wooden deck, plunge pool, outdoor shower and garden of earthly delights. As my bourgeois bungalow was located down a flight of stairs, indoors and outdoors were perfect for going au naturel.

Overlooking a gorge, diners can gorge themselves at Ayung Terrace, which specializes in Balinese and Asian dishes. Beneath a thatched roof, the Riverside Café offers a more informal menu poolside, serving pasta, pizza and the like.

As if all this isn’t enough to bliss you out, a three villa in-house spa awaits guests. My treatment begins with a soothing foot washing and rubbing, followed by ancient Indian ayurvedic and traditional Balinese massage techniques. My flesh is so aromatically oiled, kneaded and rolled in the expert hands of my masseuse that I am totally refreshed, from my sole to my soul. I feel as pampered as Louis XIV, as relaxed as a koala bear waking from an 18-hour slumber in the bough of a eucalyptus tree, as untethered as an astronaut floating through space. Couples treatments applied by two massage therapists is a spa specialty, ending with private dual showers.

But my favorite place to stay is Four Seasons Resort Bali at Jimbaran Bay, located south of Kuta Beach on the island’s peninsula. Like its Sayan sister, the Jimbaran property features luxurious villas with private pools, elegant, well-appointed grounds, world-class spa and the amenities the Four Seasons are renowned for. However, as its name implies, the Jimbaran Bay resort is located by the sea, with the accommodations situated 150 feet above the ocean, with paths stretching downwards for swimming and even some body surfing on modest waves. I grew up only eight miles from the ocean, and the sea is the deal breaker for me.

My villa and patio have widescreen views of the ocean, stretching from here to infinity. Inside, frangipanis float on the surface of my bathtub’s water, where two pillows lie perched – the divine decadence of those Four Seasons amenities! There’s an outdoor shower ensconced in a bamboo garden that wraps around the villa to the patio. An overhanging thatched roof partially covers the verandah beside my private pool, featuring a statue spraying water from its mouth. From my double bed I can just watch the wheels of the world roll by. Like the resort itself, my villa is beyond comfortable, quiet and refined, in a non-ostentatious way.

The resort’s spa enhances the tranquil ambiance. My therapist Tini may be tiny but her petite hands pack a wallop, pounding the stress, pulverizing the anxiety out of me, rubbing, pressing, stretching my bod using oil blended with essence of nutmeg. Tini turns me into a human batch of silly putty, rendering me as loosey-goosey as a Tahitian in a Gauguin canvas of the golden age.

The Jimbaran makes good use of its sands, presenting (during the high occupancy season) the cleverly named “Six on the Beach” below its ocean view PJ’s restaurant, with overhead fans hanging from its thatched roof. Holes are dug in the sand for diners’ legs, large pillows support their backs, tables are placed low on the sand and candles are strategically spread out, illuminating the beach. On the right are six stations laden with appetizers, such as sashimi and seared ahi, while on the left are six tables bearing desserts and entrees, including roast-suckling pig. In front, a percussive gamelan orchestra performs, accompanying six tantalizingly beautiful Balinese ballerinas, who gracefully dance, seemingly defying nature by bending their rubbery fingers preternaturally backwards. The choreography and costumes bring folklore alive; in one number the sextet of golden-outfitted Balinese Bullwinkles don antlers to depict a legend about deers; in another, they dance a sort of Can-Can. The music and movement of this enthralling cultural performance is otherworldly, totally unique – what Bali’s all about. Alas, it is rainy season, and a sky-borne deluge sends us scurrying for cover beneath PJ’s thatched roof after only half of the six dances have been performed.

It’s coitus interruptus for Six on the Beach. I’ll have to take a rain check on Bali.

Ed Rampell has traveled widely, to more than 100 Pacific Islands, Asia, Europe, Mexico and Africa. His travel writing and photography has appeared in: Islands, Action Asia, Travel Age West, Skin Inc, Porthole, Far East Traveler, Asian Diver, L.A. Times, Toronto Globe & Mail, Boston Globe, Chicago Tribune, San Jose Mercury News, Pacific Business News, E The Environmental Magazine, L.A. Reader, etc. Rampell is a staff writer for the Los Angeles Journal. was interviewed at Tahiti for the CBS newsmagazine “48 Hours,” and National Public Radio’s “Savvy Traveler” interviewed Rampell about the Marquesas Islands. Rampell acted as a consultant for, and appears as the most used on-camera interviewee, in the 2005 Australian-European co-production “Hula Girls,” which has been seen by millions of viewers on Dutch, German, French, Swiss, Australian, etc., television on the Avro and Arte networks. Rampell’s Polynesian daughter Marina is a singer in Australia.

For The Road to Bali, part 1

Bat Cave, Mother Temple Tour
Bali is an exquisite isle, and my package includes three private trips that reveal its natural and cultural splendor. Panorama Tours provides a driver and English-speaking, sarong and sandal wearing guide named Made who drove me in a van to Goa Lowah, an astounding cave on the southeast coast so full of bats that I half-expect to see Bruce Wayne and Alfred there. Thousands of bats hang upside down inside the cavern, as others flutter about. The nearby temple features ornate statuary – garudas (mythical winged creatures), snakes and golden bat symbols, adorning the tower tops. Groups of prosperity seeking Balinese faithful worship at the bat cave.

In Klungkung, the Kertha Gosa 18th century Hall of Justice seems to float atop a water lily pond, the interior of its roof emblazoned with the outrageously imaginative art Bali is noted for, gaily-colored cartoon-like renderings of legends. A museum on the grounds displays artifacts and aged photos that provide a glimpse into Indonesia’s darkly violent past that included Dutch and Japanese occupiers, and a 1960s coup that slaughtered up to 500,000 suspected communists.

A buffet lunch on high at Puri Boga Restoran overlooking green serene rice paddies fortified me for a trek at Mt. Agung to experience Besakih Temple, Bali’s “Mother Temple,” an impressive, elaborate complex of picturesque pagodas, thatched roofs, courtyards and festive artwork. During my walkabout I see a suckling pig roasted over a fire, presumably being prepared for a ceremony.

The full day tour ends at Penglipuran, a sort of model Potemkin Village, where visitors can enter walled, traditionally situated Balinese compounds to see how the other half lives. Here, color TVs and barong costumes exist side-by-side, as enormous hogs snort outside and the inhabitants try to sell visitors handicrafts or drinks. Although they are ancient Hindu symbols rocky swastikas adorn some walls, shocking Western eyes.

Kuta Beach
I vary Panorama’s tours with jaunts to Sanur Beach — a brief walk down the road from Parigata Villas, where I stay during most of my sojourn – or to touristy Kuta Beach, a taxi ride across Bali’s southern peninsula. Body surfing waves are much better at Kuta, although the numerous topless women I remembered from my 1980s and 1990s jaunts to Bali are gone — although, alas, the incessant beach peddlers remain the same. I rent a lounge chair and, remarkably, teenagers obnoxiously perch on its back until I chase the punks away. When the tide carries an unbearable mass of plastic debris ashore, I leave the waves, disgusted. Unable to find a suitable beachfront restaurant on Kuta’s hustle bustle tacky main drag, I eat at Pizza Hut, only to be shocked at how sweet its drinks, salad dressing, etc., are, and wonder if American culture’s contribution to Bali will be diabetes?

Orchids, Birds, Monkeys and Ubud
The next day I’m ready for another Panorama tour, this time to Ubud, which is located in Bali’s center. First stop is south of the island’s capital, Denpasar, at the Orchid Garden, where a lovely young guide displays a bounty of brilliantly hued blossoms in a variety of shapes. It’s well worth seeing, as is Bali Bird Park, en route to Ubud, a delightful aviary with a bevy of birds – hornbills, lorries, macaws, flamingos, etc. — from Borneo, Papua, Java, Sumatra, and even Komodo dragons.

Near Ubud I stop at Semar Kuning, a huge art factory-cum-gallery, where painters practice their craft outside on large stretched canvases. Inside, the art ranges from the abstract to the traditional, in a variety of mediums. At Ubud, I ask Made where I can purchase monkey masks and wayang kulit (shadow puppets), and my tour guide hasn’t the foggiest idea. Made leaves me on my own at Ubud’s crowded, outdoor market in the blazing heat, where I buy sandals and beat a hasty retreat from the crowds to the main drag, where I find the handicrafts I’m looking for and stroll about this village renowned for its painters. Boutiques, galleries, restaurants line the road, and just off the street are some spacious, pretty hotels, water lily ponds and flowing streams. Back at the van, I cool my heels waiting for Made; when he reappears with another Panorama employee we’ve picked up somewhere along the way and are giving a lift to, we search for and find Oka Kartini, a hotel I had stayed at during my earlier Bal sojourns. Unlike much of Bali, Oka Kartini happily hasn’t changed much. The highlight of my visit to Ubud is driving down the Monkey Forest Road, where primates scamper about amidst the tourists.

The Road to Bali, part 3

Ed Rampell has traveled widely, to more than 100 Pacific Islands, Asia, Europe, Mexico and Africa. His travel writing and photography has appeared in: Islands, Action Asia, Travel Age West, Skin Inc, Porthole, Far East Traveler, Asian Diver, L.A. Times, Toronto Globe & Mail, Boston Globe, Chicago Tribune, San Jose Mercury News, Pacific Business News, E The Environmental Magazine, L.A. Reader, etc. Rampell is a staff writer for the Los Angeles Journal. was interviewed at Tahiti for the CBS newsmagazine “48 Hours,” and National Public Radio’s “Savvy Traveler” interviewed Rampell about the Marquesas Islands. Rampell acted as a consultant for, and appears as the most used on-camera interviewee, in the 2005 Australian-European co-production “Hula Girls,” which has been seen by millions of viewers on Dutch, German, French, Swiss, Australian, etc., television on the Avro and Arte networks. Rampell’s Polynesian daughter Marina is a singer in Australia.

Karmic Cleansing Ceremony
There are many tropical isles, but what makes Bali unique is its age-old Hindu culture and spirituality. Visitors to the “Morning of the World” can participate in a Melukat, or Balinese Karma Cleansing Ceremony. This purification process, presided over by a Pemangku (Hindu priest), seeks ablution for the body and soul and is offered to guests at the private temple of the Four Seasons at Sayan, located near the famed artists’ village of Ubud.

During this rite of passage I’m barefoot and garbed in a Balinese sarong, turban and white shirt. The religious shrine is located off a main road of the expansive resort of rolling hills and rivers, up a long flight of stone steps through the verdant, lush jungle. Is this the path to enlightenment?

An offering of flowers lies before the temple’s brick entrance, flanked by rock statues depicting gods from the Eastern pantheon and palm fronds. A resort staffer explains that the woven leaves of the coconut tree point downwards to remind humans of the importance of being, literally, down to earth and humble. Inside of the holy place a 60-ish year old man clad in white from head to toe in a turban, Nehru jacket and sarong sits cross-legged on a plaited pandanus or palm mat in front of a table laden with fruit and flower offerings to the gods, burning incense and chanting in Balinese or Sanskrit. Black and white checkered umbrellas – signifying the duality of good and evil, the eternal struggle between the forces of light and darkness – stand near the temple’s intricately carved altar, depicting floral designs, Hindu deities and barongs (magical spirits).

The mustachioed high priest rises, wearing a flower behind his right ear and grains of rice on his forehead, holding in both hands a bowl with a frangipani floating in water. My hands, feet, face and mouth are washed, as the Pemangku proceeds to chant, bang a mini-gong, sprinkle me with water from the bowl, blow incense smoke towards me and ring a brass bell. I drink some holy water; rice is placed on my forehead. The guru and I face one another, our hands clasped in prayer.

At the conclusion of this exotic ritual, the priest ties a piece of string — Benang Sidatu –around my wrist to remind me of this soul washing. During this pilgrim’s progress in Bali I wear the string until it falls off of its own accord, representing the seeker’s quest for balance and harmony. Literally and figuratively, the Melukat Ceremony gives visitors a taste of Bali’s renowned transcendentalism.

In Somerset Maugham’s The Razor’s Edge after World War I, Larry Darrell becomes a spiritual seeker whose quest leads him to an Indian ashram, where the veteran attains wisdom and serenity. But upon realizing, “It’s easy to be a holy man on top of a mountain,” Darrell leaves the lama’s lofty realm, returning to the everyday world of ordinary people. So it was in Bali, where the karmic cleansing ceremony took place at a resplendent, high security, private resort far from the madding crowd.

But visitors to the Indonesian island immediately encounter the day-to-day reality of a Third World society that views tourism as a main source of hard currency and tourists as a major revenue stream. Ngurah Rai Airport is not air-conditioned (except, tellingly, for the areas near the duty free shops), and after an almost 24 hour flight aboard Cathay Pacific that required deplaning and catching a connecting flight at Hong Kong, I had to wait about 45 minutes in the terminal’s stifling heat to pass through customs — and to pay for a visa to allow me to enter Bali.

Road to Bali, part 2

Ed Rampell has traveled widely, to more than 100 Pacific Islands, Asia, Europe, Mexico and Africa. His travel writing and photography has appeared in: Islands, Action Asia, Travel Age West, Skin Inc, Porthole, Far East Traveler, Asian Diver, L.A. Times, Toronto Globe & Mail, Boston Globe, Chicago Tribune, San Jose Mercury News, Pacific Business News, E The Environmental Magazine, L.A. Reader, etc. Rampell is a staff writer for the Los Angeles Journal. was interviewed at Tahiti for the CBS newsmagazine “48 Hours,” and National Public Radio’s “Savvy Traveler” interviewed Rampell about the Marquesas Islands. Rampell acted as a consultant for, and appears as the most used on-camera interviewee, in the 2005 Australian-European co-production “Hula Girls,” which has been seen by millions of viewers on Dutch, German, French, Swiss, Australian, etc., television on the Avro and Arte networks. Rampell’s Polynesian daughter Marina is a singer in Australia.

A curious interest in traditional Bali and a passion for learning about world music led me to the tranquil town of Ubud. With Ubud’s pleasant climate due to its location just before the mountainous regions, and its welcoming locals, I felt a warmth for this place the moment I stepped foot into the town. A centre point for Balinese culture, music, arts and crafts, all of which offer inspiration to travelers from all walks of life. The lush green rice paddy fields are just one of the many beautiful views that Ubud offers its visitors. I wandered through some paddy fields in Ubud and came across a man holding a machete shouting “hello” in my direction. The man gave me a great big smile and introduced himself as ‘Bobby’, which wasn’t quite the Balinese name I’d expected. The next moment, Bobby was half way up a coconut tree, rope between feet and machete in hand, his agile movements skimming the trunk of the tree on a mission to hack down a fresh coconut. The coconut milk tasted rich, cool and refreshing in the midday heat. I continued wandering through the pleasant fields with Bobby’s contagious smile stuck in my mind, and I later retired as the humid air stole the energy from my body.

Evenings in Ubud are full of interesting characters, pleasurable music and the taste of arak (an alcoholic drink made from palm sap), which is cheap, yet I think palm sap requires a trained palette. A night in Ubud will not go by without a choice of music being played for visitors and locals, as I often heard the sounds of Marley (or random cover versions) being played out in bars along the main stretch of Monkey Forest Road and the surrounding areas. I also very frequently heard Gamelan music which is recognized as the music of Bali, a powerful blend of various percussions, strings, gongs and xylophones. I could only describe this music as a combination of thundering sounds, jangling bells and an energy that fills the listener with excitement, yet even this would not do it enough justice.

I felt curious to explore a traditional performance so I headed for an evening of the ‘Kecak dance’. This is a beautiful, enchanting, hypnotising performance and a traditional Balinese dance of Hindu origin. The ‘Kecak dance’ is a fire/trance dance, and the name of the dance really does express what the experience is like. The Kecak is the most overwhelming dance I have seen, with a choir of over a hundred and fifty men chanting and moving with the rhythm of the fire. Dancing, fire burning, chanting and the swaying of arms overtook my mind and almost sent me into some form of trance (I’ve never stayed so quiet!). The male choir provide the musical accompaniment to the dance and their chants change throughout the dance as the mood of the dancers change, a truly exotic performance.

Amongst thousands of islands in Indonesia’s archipelago, Bali is a small island and offers a warm friendly welcome to those who explore its soil. Even amongst a developing and changing world, Bali still holds on to its traditions and offers a slow pace of life for those who wish. I was touched by the richness of Ubud and the beauty of its people. You won’t have to walk far to find a smile along the way.

Measuring 6.3 on the Richter scale, the popular tourist center of Yogyakarta was struck by a devastating earthquake. Homes and hotels throughout the area having been flattened leaving over 5000 people dead and many thousands more injured and homeless. The earthquake hit in the early morning hours on Saturday, May 27 and lasted nearly a minute according to some reports. Yogyakarta is located approximately 250 miles from the Indonesian capital, Jakarta.

At In The Know Traveler we are saddened by this event and our hearts go out to those effected by the earthquake. We want to wish the people of Indonesia a speedy recovery and restoration during this awful time.

We urge the world community to consider sending a charitable contribution through a reliable organization dedicated to aiding those in need like the American Red Cross (http://www.redcross.org/).

For more on Indonesia at ITKT

I wasn’t sure what to expect from my first ASEAN Tourism Forum. For that matter, I wasn’t sure what to expect from the Philippines either. As a destination, I have always imagined the Philippines as curious and exotic. At the same time, I know plenty of Filipino people who are just pleasant and friendly. Perhaps, a couple of good reason’s why I jumped at the chance to attend this year’s ATF.

I would soon dream of mysterious islands filled with social and fun people – barely considering the ATF, the reason why I would be going to the Philippines. I would soon discover that the ATF was a big deal. From the moment I landed in Manila, ASEAN logos were everywhere: plastered on banners, billboards, and magazine covers that littered the newsstands heralding the pending event – not to mention the logos affixed to my own luggage. When I landed in Davao, I barely made it out of the gate before I was met by a hero’s welcome. There were enthusiastic guides baring gifts. There were dancers, singers, fantastic drumming by local children dressed in colorful costumes and headdresses, and police escorts. I was not alone, 3000 delegates worldwide were expected to attend this year’s festivities.

I know what you’re asking, “What is the ATF?” Well, the ATF is a yearly gathering of the ten member nations that comprise the ASEAN community (Association of South East Asian Nations). These member nations gather to exchange ideas, set goals, strengthen cooperation between neighboring countries, explore tourism trends and decide on best ways to present Southeast Asia as a worthy tourist destination. These nations include: Brunei, Cambodia, Indonesia, Laos, Malaysia, Myanmar, Philippines, Singapore, Thailand, and Vietnam. Countries take turns hosting the ATF, by alphabetical order.

This year it was Davao City’s turn to host the ATF. While the ATF location was initially scheduled for Myanmar (Burma), Davao City became a last second replacement after Myanmar opted out as this year’s host. Myanmar’s nebulous decision left Davao City with only six months preparation time and journalists looking for answers. The event also marked the ATF’s 25th anniversary, which was themed, “Celebrating the many faces of ASEAN.” It was a good premise considering that Asia may be the most culturally diverse continent in the world and these countries are sometimes lumped together through their geography. I admit there was a lot to learn.

As one of the few American journalists at the event, I had the opportunity to learn about ASEAN’s commitment to protect western visitors from terrorism, the softening of visa restrictions for international travelers, and plans to promote tourism worldwide. Beyond the gathering of dignitaries, the ATF hosted a sea of press conferences with notable representatives from each country, networking events and the Travex convention. Travex presents several hundred ASEAN-based organizations under one roof. National and regional tourist boards, hotels, resorts, airlines and attractions get together and meet with tour operators from all over the world (49 countries to be exact), who put together tour packages that you and I eventually experience. It is the behind the scenes look at the travel industry.

As one of the few American travelers, I also learned some important tips about the region. Davao City is an ethnic melting pot and the capital of the Southern Mindanao Region and one of the world’s largest cities in terms of area. Its confines embrace a sprawling 244,000 hectares of land. It is clean, friendly and feels more like a village than a lively metropolis, at times. I was surprised by the uncluttered skyline and lack of street lights. In fact, there are only 15 street lights to direct the 1.4 million people (and 50 trillion cars) of Davao through the city. While appearing chaotic to the eyes of a westerners, Davao’s cars comfortably move together and intertwine like a nice plate of spaghetti. Davao is relatively smoke-free from heavy regulations and smoking is permissible only in a few designated areas. Visa and Master Card are readily accepted, American Express is less so. Davao also promotes itself as the safest city in the Philippines. This is probably true, but at a cost. Visitors can expect to see plenty of army, police and other security almost everywhere and can plan to have bags perused and their persons patted down when entering hotels and large markets. To Davao’s credit, this process is fast and relatively innocuous unlike my lengthy experiences at U.S. airports.

Here a few random thoughts that may brighten a dim understanding of the ASEAN region.

• Brunei, while frequently mistaken as being part of the Middle East, is surrounded by unspoiled rain forest and Malaysia as a part of Borneo. It is also one of the richest countries in the world with virtually no poverty.

• Myanmar, Laos and Cambodia offer plenty of cultural and historical attractions that are poorly marketed and, sadly, frequently overlooked by travelers.

• Thailand is celebrating their beloved Monarch’s 80th Birthday in 2006 and has scheduled numerous events and openings to mark the occasion.

• Vietnam has seven UNESCO sites worth visiting beyond the historical attractions of their long war.

• The tiny country of Singapore receives nine million visitors a year.

• The Philippines, while having a strict travel advisory from the U.S., may not deserve its present reputation – at least from my experience.

In between the press conferences and interviews, I did take a few moments to enjoy Davao. I recommend getting around by the most available mode of transport in the Philippines, the jeepney. The jeepney is very inexpensive, packed with locals and an opportunity to experience the Philippines’ traffic spaghetti. I also found mysterious islands and friendly people. Our readers can expect to see a lot more in the future from the ASEAN community on In The Know Traveler.

This year’s ATF was open from January 13-21, 2006. Next year’s ATF, Singapore!

Written and photographed by Devin Galaudet

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