Life's a Stitch

Figuratively, not literally. Looking back on our last full day in Bali it brings back the joy of time with family and friends, mixed with huge anxiety resulting from the decision to return home or not. As our trip was shortened to nine days it was important to leave our immediate tourist area and see the surrounding area.

M and KC and their friends generously invited us for a visit at their jungle villa near Ubud. We hired their driver for the day and rode the hour an a half from the city, through the craft villages each with their own specialty: the stone workers with blocks and blocks of statues, the wood shops filled with furniture and sculptures, the visual artists galleries and shops. It was torturous not having the time to stop, consoling ourselves with the mantra of "next time." 

We arrived at an emerald rice patty, serenaded by the quacking of ducks. These are working birds, herded from patty to patty in order to keep insects under control. The word for duck in Bahasa is bebek. I like that onomatopoeiac word, a combination of quack and beak. We walked a high narrow path between the patties:

Through a jungley garden:

Down steep stairs until the house appeared, carved into the side of the hill:

These luxurious types of accommodation are available throughout the island, complete with pool and staff. the cost is reasonable when shared with others. 

There is a restaurant type menu, and the staff cook your food to order. The fridge is filled with cold drinks, you help yourself and keep track of what you owe. We ate lunch to the hum of jungle cicadas and tree frogs. At least we didn't see the golden orb spiders we found in town, harmless, but including legs, the size of your hand.

Come on a little tour around:

C and KC posed in the bathtubs, one wood, the other copper.

After a dip in the pool we very reluctantly ended our day, and our trip, and headed back to Sanur.

We wound our way back through the rice patties.

Passed women on their weekly trek to the temple, balancing their offerings:

It was rush hour in the city as we wove through the multitudes of motor scooters, some carrying entire families. Small scooters call for tiny gas stations.

Sometimes you buy gas from a jar at a corner store.

So that was that, the last day of our abbreviated visit to Bali. Some day we hope to return.

On a brighter note, this week marked B's 30th birthday in Bali! How did that happen? He sweet girlfriend ordered in 40 kilos of rose petals and surprised him with a beflowered bath and pool: 

Isolation is not so bad in paradise!

 

 

Our friends and family meme.. You know it's a pandemic when:

– your meditation app tells you to take a series of deep breaths and you are afraid to.

– the meditation app tells you to select what you’re feeling and admonishes you for picking too many emotions. 

– you discuss with your partner how many sheets of toilet paper you use at one sitting. 

– you are sooo excited to receive your bidet toilet seat. Who needs toilet paper?

– you receive sweet messages from two former German students, just checking in to see how you're doing.

–  the date for grocery store click and collect is two weeks out.

– you calculate it will take 50 laps around the house to get to 10,000 steps. 

– C suggests we have a couple of nights away from home. In the camper. In the driveway. 

– you subscribe to an automated text messaging service so you are guaranteed to receive a “message of hope” each day. 

– you’re excited to find two protective masks in the workshop.

– you accidentally touch your mouth then spray it with hand sanitizer. 

– you look outside and see several larger than the allowed rv’s that you’ve never noticed before. Figured out they belong to snowbirds who have returned early but can’t get their rv’s into storage because they're required by law to be in quarantine. 

– hopscotch has grown fromm eight squares to 48.

– your kid is so bouncy he bounces into your windshield and cracks it four ways. 

– at work they tell you to limit all non-essential meetings and to use Skype for business. Then tell you to limit non-essential use of Skype for business because it keeps crashing. 

– all the ichiban is sold out except for the miso flavour. 

– Starbucks is closed at two pm on a Wednesday

– there’s no such thing as rush hour anymore. 

– as a nurse they tell you you might have to go back to the floors when you haven’t worked there in ten years  

– you’re granted access to the hospital only after passing screening tests by an entourage in damn near hazmat suits, and the proceed to walk around with the rest of the public wearing no protection at all. 

– the lady at the liquor store says it’s been like Christmas and the average ring out today was over $400.

– your speech delayed kid can pronounce hand sanitizer but not potato. 

– when gas is 0.66 a litre ($1.78 US per gallon).

And the heartbreaking one:

You know it’s a pandemic when you let a man come into the hospital for open heart surgery, but turn his wife away at the door. Or when you tell parents that they cannot both be with their dying child at the same time.

How did we get to this?

Pandemic March 18th:

Pandemic April 3rd:

The timing for Easter’s message of hope and renewal is much needed.

Considering we've successfully made it through our 14 day post travel quarantine period, paradise, AKA Bali, certainly seems like a dream in our distant past. I've been thinking of the food. As in restaurant menus at an affordable price. At a neighbourhood cafe these are lunches that costs an average of $2.50 Cdn. 

A meal at our favourite restaurant, a step up from casual, runs about $6.50 for an entree and starts with a sample of tropical fruit. 

Even at a more expensive hotel restaurant on the beach, the ossobucco is $16.

The wine will set you back at $9-13 a glass! Just like in China, a bottle of Australian wine will cost $30 at the grocery store, the same as you can get at Trader Joe's for $8. 16 bottles of decent wine, bought through a connection for our planned monthlong stay, cost over 4,000,000 rupiah, $400 Canadian dollars.

A king's ransom! Beer is a more economical choice. 

Rides are reasonable. We hired a driver to take us to Ubud, 80 minutes away, and the charge was $20 each way. The car could hold four. Most in town lifts were $2-4. Airport transport to Sanur should run about $15, even though tourists are often quoted $60!

Rooms can be economical. Guest houses with pools, in neighbourhoods walking distance to the beach, have rooms with a private bath for $25 a night and an Air B&B townhouse condo runs about $60/nt. A high end brand name hotel has rooms for $250, not our style. 

The island thrives on tourism. I hope it will survive the pandemic. I dream of going back.

If, a month ago, someone told you where the world would be today, would you have believed it?

You know those books that randomly hop back and forward in time? The first sentences disorienting as you decipher where on the calendar it belongs? It can be annoying. No more so than arriving on a blog called Life’s a Stitch with nary a knitting project to be found. I’m going to have to do something about that, but I’m attached to the name, originally dubbed by my then 14-year-old son. Back to my time warp. We are home in White Rock, but will continue the blog hopscotching between Bali and BC.

We are on Day 13 of quarantine, thankfully with no symptoms of Covid. We're doing well, still married. Fortunately I don't have a bored bone in my body. Ask my kids. If they complained of boredom, and they stopped pretty quickly, knowing my answer would be: "Children who know how to read can never be bored."

Well I've made it through two weeks without opening a book and watching a total of 80 minutes of TV. There was a lot of cooking, large batches with enough to freeze for future meals. After my last post I made Greek Stifado, Nasi Goreng, Ratatouille and stuffed peppers. As soon as I graduate from quarantine I'll use my one allowed shopping trip per week to go grocery shopping. 

I filled my time with way too much online news, CNN, BBC and CBC and of course the nonstop almost 24 hour drone of CBC radio in the background. I spent time writing letters to a raft of government officials regarding some inefficient ways they are spending my tax money to address the Covid crisis. I was pleased to receive a call from our local MP's office to have a discussion in more detail.

While in quarantine we weren't allowed to leave our property, so to fulfill my need to walk I did laps around our house. Mind you, our lot is only 30 feet wide so one lap equalled 200 steps in two minutes and included 15 stairs. I must have looked like a caged tiger to the neighbours. 

And of course I painted. I intended to do a pen and ink drawing of Bryant's girlfriend's mother's two dogs as a thank you for her hospitality in Bali. Once the drawing was done, C said I needed to paint it instead. That's a difference of a minimum of ten hours of work. I asked him if he thought I needed art therapy considering world circumstances. No, he said, I think it will look better. So I followed his suggestion. Meet Lola and Sofia (FiFi).

NOTE: This post was started prior to our return home due to the travel advisory. More Bali posts to come.

What would our group have talked about without current world circumstances? Every day, as things change, as possibilities for leaving shrink, we strategize our exit/remain in place plans. 

Today for distraction we chose activities with low social contact. Late breakfast at a restaurant with two other patrons.

A scooter ride to see Blue Lagoon, again with two others.

Down to the deserted Secret Beach for a swim:

Then to a geocache at an empty bar. 

Four of our group went scuba diving and snorkelling. They were alone with the instructor on the dive boat.

Today’s map just got a little uglier. The hot weather theory is diminishing.

We’re trying to be responsible visitors. Last night we avoided a popular restaurant and ordered in a huge amount of sushi. Then dismantled the boxes for recycling, sort of a deconstructive origami exercise.

First up, there was great relief when M and KC were on the last flight out of Hong Kong before they closed the airport to long distance flights two nights ago. The terminal was due to close at midnight and their flight was given a special exception to fly at five minutes past! They flew to SFO, spent the night, then to Calgary in the morning. That leaves B and S still there. Ah young love, there was no way he was leaving her. I get it. They are safe, in isolation at her mother’s compound.

I remember as a child watching the Little Rascals and there being an episode about quarantine. An official came to the door and posted a sign to keep others out. Never ever did I ever think I'd be in a similar predicament. And here we are, not socially isolating, but confined to the house as per Canada's Quarantine Act. 

Two weeks, 24/7! There is no lack of things to do, one frustration being the inability to get outside and walk. When the rain stops I might consider laps around the outside of the house. These next three days will be the most nerve wracking, as it is the timeframe for symptoms to appear, usually days 5-7. 

We're eating better than usual, with lots of time for cooking, starting with Instant Pot meatballs and tomato sauce, always so rich and delicious. Cutting a large beef roast in two I've got half marinating for tomorrow's stifado and the rest cooking for four hours on top of the stove – Balinese Beef Rendang:

Perfectly tender and carmelized:

The recipe, technically a dry curry, called for 3 Tablespoons of chilli flakes. I’m a fan of spicy heat, however I stopped at one and it’s hot enough.

Our kitchen and freezer are well stocked, but we'll need to strategize fresh food items prior to the end of detention. I've tried all the grocery store apps and the next available date is April 8th! We've had some offers of help, though, so not too worried.

During the week I'll finish one of the Bali posts. It seems like a dream now. It's hard to believe we'd be only halfway through our trip.

 

 

So difficult. I lost it at the Denpasar airport, a teary mess, my mind going to terrible places. When will I see my kids again? A man, who it turns out is from our town, comforted me. We talked about the kids being in a lower risk category and it made perfect sense for us to be leaving, older folks that we are. 

The line up was long, held up by the situations of several people, also Canadian, who had driven to Seattle for less expensive flights. Unable to return, as the borders are closed, they were being rerouted to Vancouver, their cars continuing their US vacation. 

One of those affected shared her rant wth me. She asked how I was doing. “Sad to be leaving my kids.” Ranting was her forte. “What!!! You must not leave your children here, the medical system is S**t. Get them out of here…” Enter White Rock man who tells her “You have just undone all the good I did for this woman (me). Then he proceeded to tell the story of how, during their time in Bali, one of his daughters developed a severe ear infection. He was given a number to call. An ambulance arrived with two doctors and a supply of medication. They examined the little girl, confirmed the ear infection that required treatment and left them with the appropriate meds and supplies. All for $100 Cdn dollars. What an efficient system. Why expose people to an ER full of sick patients? Maybe this pandemic will lead to a healthier world.

At security my approved for travel, foldable, dull pointed tiny scissors were confiscated. I have flown all over the world with them and they accompanied me on our first Camino trek. Why here? Insult to injury.

2/3’s of the passengers wore some sort of mask, most ineffective, or worn improperly. There was a family of three dressed in plastic ponchos, goggles, masks and gloves for the duration of the first five hour flight to Taipei.

The food was as we heard: a piece of cake, a mini muffin, a raisin cookie and Crisp Balls and a six ounce bottle of water. We did get two meals on the ten hour flight to YVR. 

Our temperatures were taken at each airport. I have the ability, once I see the thermometer guns at the front of the line, to be anxious that I’ll sprout a fever by the time i get there. All went well.

The flights included a couple of people actively suppressing occasional coughs and a woman who felt the need to stretch with her feet on the wall. It takes all kinds.

We started our descent into familiar territory.

Vancouver’s airport procedure went smoothly. There was minimal co-vid screening, which surprised me. Just to have dinner at the Hyatt in Bali required the taking of temperatures.

We made it home via a disinfected Uber to settle in for our 14 day quarantine. We were greeted by the relieving news that M & KC had also made the decision to return home. Two less to worry about.

 

AKA Paradise postponed. What it feels like is Paradise Lost.

Checked flights online and one was available at an additional price of $3000 for the two of us (we flew here round trip for $1000 each), but changes required a phone call.

Decided to try to call the airlines at 5:00a.m., thinking there would be fewer callers, to find that EVA doesn’t have a 24 hour call centre. Since it was during business hours at home I called the Vancouver office, which was actually in the US. Success after a 20 minute wait! We’re flying home today at an additional cost of $956, a bargain. 

Wish we could click our heels and magically land in our comfy beds at home. Instead, we’ll be on packed planes hoping the Taipei airport remains open for our connecting flight. Our canary in the coal mine from a few posts ago, flew back yesterday and reports they aren’t serving hot meals on the first five hour flight, and instead was served a bun, a cookie and water. Common on domestic flights at home, but different from the flight in.

Nine days in Bali, but we packed a lot in. I’ll keep posting more about the past few days and the trip home.

It’s going to be very difficult to leave the kids behind, but they don’t have the same level of risk and if they get stuck, they’ll have each other and S’s mom for support. It was good being here with two of them and their partners. At home all three are far away. I’m not too happy right now, feeling like we’re jumping straight from the frying pan into the fire.

I’ll end this one with a cheerful note, Sammy’s sweet puppies.

Back in Bali listening to EVA Air’s never ending on-hold music, ten bars punctuated with “Thank you for your patience…” over and over and over again.

We are a living example of the definition of the word dilemma; a situation in which a difficult choice has to be made between two or more equally undesirable alternatives.

Option #1: Stay put. Bali has a supposed low number of cases, but that’s to be taken with a grain of salt. Government officials have admitted to stretching the truth and any official numbers are questionable. That being said, it’s definitely lower than at home. 

Bali allows only the amount of prescription meds as your trip requires. We packed an extra two weeks worth in case of quarantine. With borders shutting down daily for indefinite periods that’s a risky proposition. We have copies of our prescriptions with us, so a decision to stay would involve a trip to the pharmacy to check on availability. 

Option #2: Leave. It’s not easy to give up the Bali dream, but to be here with no option of leaving is scary. The risk of this option is the high level of exposure during the travel process. Two long flights, a layover in Taipei, and the hours required clearing customs in the pandemonium of YVR. And although our travel health insurance is still in tact, since we arrived prior to the travel advisories, it’s probably better to be in our own healthcare system.

Therein lies the dilemma. Stay tuned. “Thank you for your patience…”

Tomorrow I’ll do another post on The Nusa Cenigan visit. I’ll leave you with our favourite photo of the trip.

 

We interrupt the regularly scheduled blog post to tell you the story of last night.

The island of Ceningan is connected to the island of Lembongan by a rickety narrow yellow bridge, which can only accommodate pedestrians and scooters.

I awakened in the middle of the night to what felt like the vibration of a large transport truck motor rumbling against the side of the house. The local dogs were barking hysterically. I knew there was no way a truck came over that bridge.

As the house shook and I realized it was an earthquake. It was quickly confirmed by an emergency government text, a 6.6 magnitude. I knew I bought that Indonesian SIM card for a reason.

Earthquake in Indonesia, what’s the next logical thought? Did you guess tsunami? Here we are, on a remote island, in a house made of sticks, overlooking the water. I went into mild panic researching tsunami incidence. I texted E in Edmonton for reassurance. Then I realized if the gov’t texted me for the earthquake, they surely would do so for tsunami. I recalled the big hill up the road and was able to fall back to sleep.

My mother’s voice is in my head: Never a dull moment!