Lulls in Lovina

In retrospect, there was no point in leaving Amed. We basically came to Lovina to do nothing—the same nothing we were doing in Amed, but at a slightly higher cost and with a few more tourists. Consequently, there isn’t much to share, but I’ve already finished reading my latest book (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) and I’m bored. While we have done nothing except go for a few walks and make one trip into town to buy contact solution there are only a few not too boring things to note:




First: When we arrived in Lovina our driver took us to this hotel (the one we’re currently staying in) and we asked about prices. The quoted price was definitely more than we were comfortable spending and wanted to look elsewhere. The very lovely manager asked us where we wanted to go because Lovina has “organised pricing” and she could apparently tell us what their prices were. Darren gave her a funny look and said, “Organised pricing? Is that legal?” She quickly corrected herself and said “organised tourism”—same thing! She was cheeky and delightful, and Darren says she reminded him of my mom, so here we’re staying. It’s not as nice as our place in Amed and is twice the cost, but it does have AC. We did check out the place next door which, according to the guidebook (Lonely Planet on a Shoestring), was supposed to be a little grungy but dirt cheap. Our guidebook is two years old and since it was written, that particular hotel was bought out by the French and is now pretty nice and three times as expensive. So we didn’t settle without checking the surrounding competition. We had also just finished a gruesome hike through the night and I for one didn’t really care where we stayed, I just wanted to sleep.



Second: While the touts (people who try to sell you stuff on the streets/beach) can be quite distracting and annoying, they do deserve some level of respect. Darren and I agree that when it comes to beggars, we’d rather give people money for a service of sorts than to just give it to them for free. In China we saw a lot of both types of people, and we figure that if a man with no legs can manage to sell flowers, or an old frail couple can still manage to sing and entertain, then surely anyone can do some sort of thing to earn a small amount of coin. Thus far in Indonesia, we have seen no beggars—maybe because Bali is celebrated for its craftsmanship, but everyone here as something to sell. Whether its salt in Amed, or pearls in Lovina, no one right out asks you to give them your money, they always seem to find ways of utilising whatever abilities they have to “earn” it. The husband at “Bali 9” for example, not only owns a restaurant, but he does oil paintings, batiks (dyed cloth paintings), rents motorcycles, arranges transportation (not sure if he’s an actual driver or not), makes necklaces, and probably many other things we haven’t heard of yet. The people here are extremely resourceful, and while the constant and persistent push for massages, bracelets, and wood-carvings can drive you crazy, you can’t help but respect the simple fact that they’re just trying to earn a living.



Third: That being said, I think everyone in Bali is an entrepreneur in the making. The business approach here is so very different from anything we’ve experience so far, and so much better. The people here don’t just call out at you yelling prices and offering you goods/services, they always start by getting to know you, and it’s always the same routine: “Hello. How are you? What’s your name? Nice to meet you. My name is (Wayan). Where are you from? Where are you going?” The last question usually prompts either, “Do you need teksi/driver/transport?” or “Do you want to see the dolpins?” or “You need motorcycle?” etc. And if you decline, they don’t just shrug and watch you walk away, but they tell you their name again and that if/when you’re interested in transportation/dolphins/motorcycles to remember them and to come see them and that they’ll give you “cheap price”. Then they cheerfully say good-bye. Even the children use this same method of building a relationship with you. It’s amazing and I’m a huge sucker for it.



Fourth: In Indonesia in general and probably all of Asia, there is a definite community feel. Everyone on this street knows each other and I think it would be safe to say that they more or less run their business together as well—“organised pricing/tourism”. The couple that manages our hotel for instance, also manages the “PADI Dive Resort” down the street, and as with all hotels, they also provide various forms of transportation and “actifities”. From what we’ve experienced as we walk up and down the streets, if you want to rent a motorcycle/scooter, you have to book a day in advance so that they can make sure they have one to rent to you. This morning we asked if there were any available, and the manager ran down the street to find us one. The scooter she had hired for us was from the man who runs the restaurant that we regularly eat at who also rents it out and provides transportation. I’m also pretty sure that the “loundry” service offered at our hotel is the same laundry service offered at the shop just outside the gates to our hotel.



There are also restaurants along the street which are basically established side by side, and all day the women who run these warung sit next to each other gabbing and peeling garlic. Their menus are almost identical, as well as their prices, and even their “specials” are the same.



I think my favourite part about the community feel here though, is the way that the “village” really does raise the family. For example, at “Bali 9” (our go to restaurant), they have three children, one of whom is just over a year old. If the wife/chef is on her own or it is particularly busy, the women who run the resort/tourist information centre across the street will take little Korma off her hands. This evening while we were eating, little Korma was across the street with the manager of our hotel, her husband, the girl who owns the shop outside our hotel, and a number of other locals. A boy down the street was playing the guitar and singing, while the boy who lives next door (son of the owners of Bali 9) rode his bike back and forth, singing with the guitarist and playing with his sister and the other local kids. It’s just really great to see the whole community actually function as a community. They all help each other and spend the evenings together visiting. All the kids in the community play together (their social dynamics are hilarious) in the streets, and each of the neighbours does their part to keep an eye on them.



Fifth: Today while we were walking down the beach, Darren picked up a rock and hucked it at one of the sand crabs. He claims he just wanted to scare it (because apparently their running into a hole every time you get near them isn’t enough), but he actually hit it. He smashed up the poor things legs (the crab was probably only the size of a nickel) and it lay on its back twitching in pain. ***Apparently killing/torturing harmless creatures for fun/amusement is the sign of a sociopath serial killer. I’m just saying…