"Don't cry because it's over, Smile because it happened" - Dr. Suess

Five more sleeps in Bali.

We're sad to be leaving Bali. As I look back over the past months there have been many enriching experiences, some difficult moments, and, over all, it has been among the best six months of my life. There's something so special about this little island sandwiched between the Pacific and Indian Oceans; the tremendous richness of a centuries-old culture rooted in community and service to God that, when coupled with the beauty and pleasures of the tropics is hard to beat. The relative lack of regulation and loose or ill-defined rules can be liberating or maddening (say when you get pulled over and have money extorted by police) but certainly add to the invigorating experience.

There are many things I had planned to do but did not accomplish such as blog entries that didn't get written, I meant to learn Bahasa Indonesian, and I brought a stack of books that will go back into the suitcase along with my promise to read them in the future. Every day was, in some way or another, extremely rich. Living away from “normal” made me look at everything with fresh eyes, a sense of wonder I hope to maintain after I leave. It will be interesting to see our family integrate these experiences as we readjust to being in Canada.

One of the blog topics I intended to write about relates to the symbols of Bali which are often rooted in Hinduism. I'll mention just a couple of them. Many symbols are beautiful, others are interesting and some are repulsive. For example, the swastika is a popular symbol in Bali. No kidding! It is inscribed in temples, adorns rod-iron fencing, and even dangled from our driver's rear-view-mirror instead of fuzzy dice. The Balinese have no association of the swastika and evil, they see it as lucky (according to Wikipedia the original meaning is a “lucky or auspicious object... to denote good luck.”) Although I know it wasn't always an image of hatred, the swastika still takes me aback and I feel uneasy.

Another symbol that we've seen a lot in Bali is Saraswati, the Hindu goddess of knowledge, music and the arts. In some ways Saraswati is the patron of our trip. We originally chose Bali specifically for the children to attend Green School. And while here the kids have done unbelievable amounts of art. Maia almost single-handedly wore out dozens of markers, we've gone through hundreds of sheets of paper, Chloe and Maia were in a performance singing and dancing in the Wizard of Oz, and the list of art projects goes on and on. As for music, it has permeated our trip. For months we slept to the sounds of the Gamelan echoing around the river valley, the kids have had music instruction at school and Ava has learned to play guitar and bass; we came to Bali with two guitars and we will leave with three.

Saraswati may not be done with us yet either. Alex is registered in a Medical Informatics program at University of California at Davis and starts in a couple of weeks. The last few weeks have been overshadowed by an application I submitted to UBC for a Master of Health Administration. As I await the results of that process I am consumed with studying for the GRE and I write that test in a couple weeks. Saraswati, what do you have in store for us next?

A friend wrote a book with the title We Feel Good Out Here about a northern aboriginal girl being on the land. I feel I now better understand what it means to just feel good somewhere. In the case of our family, we feel good in Bali. We all look healthier than when we arrived (a fact I am repeatedly told by our Scottish/Dutch friend who likes to remind me how pale and jaded I seemed to him upon our arrival) and we are all re-engaged with one another and what's around us. An example of this new closeness is our kids moving from three kids in three bedrooms to three kids in one bed! Certainly just having more time is key.

As we prepare to return to Canada it leaves me to question the basics about how we live. It's not about location it's about maintaining this renewed sense of closeness in our family. Can we do that in our “normal” life? Can we resist the temptation to fill our plate to overflowing when we're in Canada? There are so many wonderful opportunities and we always want to eat big at life's buffet.

Maybe we're just consoling our sadness about leaving by thinking about returning. But given just how good we feel here, we've asked ourselves the question “why wouldn't we return?” Any answer we come up with feels hollow. The kids would accept coming back as they now know how life works here and are connected to friends. For now, we don't know if we'll be back we just know it's so so so sad to leave. A friend told me recently, “it's not enough for you to want to be in Bali – Bali also has to want you back.” And maybe that is the question that remains to be answered: will Bali want us back? For now, I'll try to stop crying because it's over and keep smiling because it happened.

And what a lot there is to smile about!

Thank you Bali!

Riah

The Stranger with the Black Cape

Somewhere out there, a mysterious stranger lurks...

I couldn't sleep well that night as I knew I had to wake early. I was planning on meeting Peter, a swiss fellow with kids at Green School, for a dive out at a small island off Bali, Nusa Penida. To get down to Sanur where the dive shop is from Sayan up near Ubud is not as simple as it seems. This was the first time i went down to the coast without a driver, on the scooter. I had the memories of being a passenger on that trip before, I had a full tank of gas - so I guess I was ready. I did have to quickly turn around a come back for my PADI registration which I left at home though!

It turned out that despite that lapse, my memory did not fail and I managed to find my way into the motorcycle morning commuter traffic heading down the mountain towards Sanur. I managed to turn the right way at all the intersections and i didn't even get pulled over by the cops (we keep hearing stories of foreigners getting pulled over and fleeced for petty cash by the police whenever someone tries to venture out of Ubud on the scooters).

I did get a little lost looking for the dive shop but eventually found it in the laid back resort town of Sanur. I thought I was late but Peter arrived about 5 minutes later so i guess I was on time. It turns out that people in Bali are generally on time and there is no "island time" phenomena where everything starts 30 minutes late.

Peter is a very friendly man who works in the pharmaceutical industry. Currently he's working on establishing relations between Swiss pharmaceutical companies in the asia-pacific region. He's also a master diver. I on the other hand had only done 7 dives up to this point.

After getting our equipment together we piled into the boat, I took a gravol and we pitched and rolled across the Lombok Strait for an hour heading to Nusa Penida. Fortunately no one got sick.

When we finally got our tanks on and got into the water I felt relieved. Wearing a wet suit in the sun with a tank on in a rocking boat is a challenge. The signal to go down was given by my diving guide and down we went. We had one guide each. the more experienced Wayan went down with Peter and I followed James, an ex-british army man who had just finished his dive master course. Within minutes we were in another world.

For any one who has not been diving in the tropics, this is certainly worth putting on your bucket list (what to do before you kick the bucket!). First there's the quiet, then the sound of the scuba Darth Vader like breathing and bubbling, then there's the feeling of flying as you rise and fall in the water - and then there's the reef with hundreds of colorful fish.

We were down for about a half hour before we saw the first big fish, a white tipped reef shark quickly scurried away after seeing us. The divers down here do not seem to be worried about larger sharks. A short time later we saw the Manta rays.

These huge creatures contrast with everything else down there. They look like birds flying in slow motion, with a hint of batman or the man with the dark cape in Amadeus. The slow and graceful fluttering of the rays wings is spell binding. They apparently come up out of the deep sea to Manta point for feeding and gather at cleaning stations to rid themselves of small parasite fish that attach to their large black surface. The largest one ever recorded was 22 feet from wing tip to tip. The ones we say were at least 12 feet across. At least they looked huge.

You may remember that Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin died after being stung by a Sting Ray - Manta Rays do not sting. They have a very long tail but it does not have the lethal poison of the sting ray.

As I watched the Manta Ray swim away I was struck with awe and amazed at how beautiful these animals are. As I was losing myself in my reverie, our guide looked at me at signaled that we would be beginning our assent. He also pointed at his watch which was reading 24 degrees celcius - for Indonesians that is cold water. We slowly ascended and left the black cloaked giants, looking like some gallant heroes from an Emile Bronte novel riding slow-mo into the sea below.

Moving On

We are coming to the end of our time near Ubud; next week we are moving closer to the coast to a place called Canggu for the remainder of our stay in Bali.

Ubud is considered the cultural center of Bali and is blanketed with yoga studios, art shops, and restaurants (several fall into the extreme health food category - I learned aloe and turmeric can be ingredients in fruit juices – who knew?). Canggu is quite different in several ways. When Ubud is damp and wet, Canggu is warm and dry. Ubud is inland, Canggu is near the beach. There are villas popping up around the rice paddies and foreigners like it because it's got the beach but is less populated and busy than nearby Kuta. It is also home to the Canggu Club, a colonial-style country club with great athletics facilities where we've been spending Saturdays for the past couple months.

We've rented a nice house and we look forward to spending more time at the beach, hanging out at the Canggu Club, watching surfers at Echo Beach, and ending our amazing time in Bali with a beach holiday. That said, it's also very sad to be leaving our place in the jungle. Mostly because we'll miss the people who have looked after us so generously for the past five months.

HOME:

Nyoman is a 33 year-old woman who cooks, cleans and keeps up the house. She is married and has two children. Her husband, Ketut, works down the road at the Four Seasons. Her daughter Adi is a great friend to Maia and Ava. Her son is 13 year old Wayan called "Juni" because he is born in June. She has worked in this house for 12 years and met her American employer when he was building his house and staying at a local hotel where she then worked. Smart man - he poached her and she's worked for him ever since.

Pak Wayan Nuadi is Nyoman's co-worker who also manages the house. He is the second Wayan in his family. This means that he is the fifth born because naming children in Bali goes by birth order as follows:

• First born: Wayan
• Second born: Made
• Third born: Nyoman
• Fourth born: Ketut

The government in Bali suggests that families have two children and it makes sure that there is easy and affordable access to birth control. Most families adhere to the suggestion although there is no consequence if a family decides to have more than two. But interestingly there is the side effect of there being many Wayans and Mades but a declining number of Nyomans and Ketuts.

Nuadi's own father was a musician and teacher who worked with Canadian composer Colin McFee. His son kept with the family tradition and teaches Balinese music and his daughter is a Balinese dancer. We had the honour of visiting Nuadi's home on Sunday for his son's wedding and we got a sense of his home life. Their family has a large compound with the brothers and each of their families living there as well as his mother. The home has four kitchens, two public and several other private bathrooms, four pigs, many chickens a large temple and a store facing the street. It is really more like a small village than a house. The house was decorated in such a way as would have taken many people days to prepare. It really gave us a sense of the ongoing community work that is reality for Balinese.

Another person who is part of our daily experience is a man whose name no one seems able to tell me. Pak (the meaning is "mister" or father) is the brother of the owner of Djagra's Inn. Alex thinks he must have had polio because one of his legs is lame. He is also deaf. But the amazing thing is just how productive he is. Every morning at first light he is up sweeping with his hand-made straw broom. He sweeps the walk way and temple then then sets about on the 75 meter driveway and the parking lot. It takes him hours. By afternoon he puts all the fallen leaves and jungle debris into to a burn pile and tends a small smoky fire which I'm beginning to smell now. At the end of the day he sits outside in his plastic lawn chair no doubt exhausted. We smile and say good morning every day and he loves it when he sees the girls going out for runs. The first time he said anything besides a nod and smile was a day when Ava was doing wind sprints on the driveway. He had a beaming smile, looked me in the eye, gave me a thumbs up and said "Bagus!" (good!).

GETTING AROUND:

Our driver is Made. He is 35, married, and has two daughters. He tells me that he won't try to have a boy because he will be able to invite the future husband of one of his daughters to live in his house to look after him and his wife when they are older. Old and new ways come together.

Made is from a low caste but his family is very enterprising. He and his father both own cars they are well regarded for tours of Bali. Made tells me that his brother is often called to take visiting VIPs out. Made is a cross between a traditional Balinese very connected to his community and traditions as well as the new world. He is tech savvy, gels his hair, has an earring, speaks good English, and his slight swagger makes me think of Bali-meets-James Dean. And while in some ways he drives us nuts, he's an excellent driver and very sweet with our kids.

OUT AND ABOUT:

Another Wayan I have spent a lot of time with is someone I refer to as "Wayan the Torture Man." He is a soft spoken, trophy-winning Balinese body builder who has been my personal trainer for the past several months. When I asked if we could take his photo he wanted to know if he should show his muscles for the picture. He has an uncanny ability to find new and original ways to remind me that the journey to fitness is never over! Just when I think we must have at least touched upon every muscle in the human body he finds one that is still weak.

I'd never seriously considered a personal trainer but after seeing a woman training on several occasions I approached her to ask how she liked it. Liz is a divorce attorney from Hawaii who told me that she continued to eat her client's troubles long after they'd moved on in their lives. She was very unhealthy and decided on an around-the-world tour. Bali was to be her first stop and ended up her last stop since, as fate would have it, she recently purchased the Ubud Fitness Center after complaining to her trainer "if I owned this gym I'd fix the air conditioners." Little did she know when she made the comment that the gym was for sale and a career change was imminent.

Liz had been working out with a trainer three times a week and had lost over 20kg and was loving it! The sessions are 90 minutes and include a warm-up, weight training, stretching/massage session and then more carido. All for $12 per session! I'm 20 sessions in and have sadly not lost any weight. And the bluntness of the Balinese around fitness is not for the faint hearted. The man who works at the front desk used to ask me "Have you lost any weight Ibu (Mrs.) Riah?" but has since given up since the answer was always no. He liked to tell me I wasn't coming often enough. One Balinese patron asked me how often I came to the gym and her unsolicited advice was that it wasn't enough. Wayan tells me, "Strong muscle, but still fat" as he grabs the wobbly bits on the back of my arms or on my abdomen in the middle of a set of crunches. It's been good fun and I will miss it all!

But for the next few weeks, Canggu with it's beaches, club, and great restaurants will be home. And I haven't seen a single turmeric juice there!

Riah

"One-hour resting"

Immediately next door to our little house on the Sayan Ridge, Banjar Baung, is a small Balinese Inn known as Djagra's. At the back of Djagra's there is a traditional Balinese family compound complete with temple, roosters, chickens, barking dogs, and the overall melee of jungle life. Jutting out onto the ridge over the river is a two story cinder block building with one room in top and one on bottom. It's not easy to find on the Internet, but what is there boasts close proximity to the Four Season's and a "verdant vista of emerald green terraced rice fields which cool your eyes and smoothes your soul." (Not a letter of typo in that quote!)

When we first moved into our little house we noticed no foreign tourists at Djagra's and asked the people who work at our house, if not foreigners, who stays at Djagra's? They gave me elusive answers such as "just for Balinese" or Nyoman would say "not so much tourists, just for one-hour resting, that sort of thing." In spite of my inquiries she wouldn't elaborate more on "one-hour resting" and I merrily carried on thinking it was some sort of stop along the way for road-weary Balinese on long-haul drives. The fact that it can't take more than five hours from one extreme side to the other therefore not necessitating nap time didn't initially cross my mind.

One morning in our first month the parking lot was particularly full making maneuvering out of the driveway difficult. Our then driver, Wayan, was unconcerned and said, "oh, not for so long. Everybody gone in an hour." And then it clicked; Djagra's is that sort of place.

I wasn't feeling so good about the neighbours at first and began trying to figure out when and where we could move - how would I try to explain that to the girls if they noticed anything unusual? What about my dreams of wholesome family time in the jungle in Bali? I briefly became a curtain twitcher and observed the clientele wondering if the women were being somehow mistreated. But what I saw were young couples arriving on separate motorbikes hastily making their way to the room gestured to by the woman at the top of the stairs. Curtains were drawn and a while later the bikes would start up and off they'd go. There was one giddy businessman in a nice car who bounced up to our door asking excitedly "Djagra's?" and was suitably chagrined - "oh, sorry, sorry, sorry" - when we pointed next door.

Balinese family life is structured so that grown children live in the family compound until the women marry (at which time she moves to her husband's family compound) or the man brings his wife home. Courting and privacy isn't easy to come by so Djagra's Inn seems to be there to fill a need for privacy of young couples.

I have noticed that when we need to give a young Balinese a landmark for where we live if I tell them "Djagra's" I at first see surprise and then unquestionable recognition of the location.

Riah

"The worst Easter Ever"

This past weekend has had some highs and lows. But at the end of it all Chloe dubbed it the "Worst Easter Ever."

The worst part of the weekend was an old and dear friend concluded a protracted battle with breast cancer and died on Easter Sunday. She was young and leaves behind a young family who now are profoundly grieving. Extreme pain accompanied the cancer so she is relieved of that awful reality but making it all the more heart wrenching she married her long-time partner last week.

It was surreal to be in Bali and be checking Facebook to find out how she was doing. The posts, from her beloved and unbelievably devoted sister, told us about her wedding including photos of that special day. There were many congratulations and well-wishes for matrimonial happiness all tinged by the sad reality of her illness. And then, sadly, but a few days later RIP.

Chloe and Ava have been really sad about the little boy who now has no mother. It seems to have hit them as a shocking idea. Watching their eyes grow wide as that possibility works is way through their brains is interesting. I know it's making me even more thankful for what we have and I hope it will do the same for them. They very sweetly wanted to do something for the little boy whose mother passed away. On the brainstorming list was taking him to the PNE, to Jasper, and extravagant gifts. But we talked our way through those ideas and Ava consulted her "Smart Girls' Guide to Manners" book and is now thinking of writing him a letter. But really, there is nothing that will make this boy's loss better.

In light of that devastating news nothing actually compares. If you're a child with unrealized expectations of a family day or whose chickens die there are other sources of sadness.

Alex was involved in an Ultimate Frisbee tournament this past weekend and we rented a villa near the beach with another family who has two daughters who are friends of Chloe and Ava.

The guys played Ultimate for the Bali Boolay's (Gringos) against teams from Australia, Singapore and Jakarta while their families hung out doing other things.

Ava had a little crisis moment when coming home from the banquet after the Frisbee tournament. She was talking very earnestly to her friend who had a totally blank look on her face. I asked what was up and she wanted to know if the earth wasn't here and the solar system wasn't here what would be there. And if it was nothing, how would we know it was nothing because we wouldn't be there to know anything? And how could she be sure that she was herself anyway and that there actually is an earth and a solar system? She became panicked and said "this is really scaring me, Mom." Her first existentialist crisis.

On Sunday we took the girls to a family Easter "Egg-stravangaza" at a big restaurant on the beach front. The day was beautiful, the sun was shining, there was live music, great crafts for kids, hanging out with friends, body surfing and boogie boarding on the beach in front of the restaurant. But somehow the Easter Sundays where we hunt for eggs in the frozen back yard are apparently much better and both Chloe and Ava expressed their disappointment with the Easter Bunny. Sigh...

We arrived home last night to learn that three of our four Bali chickens died. Chloe was devastated and worried that she didn't care for them well enough. She has been very dedicated and done a great job making sure they're fed and kept happy. The sad thing is that they caught some sort of virus which we're told comes once a year through Bali and has no treatment. Chloe said in a very sad moment tonight, "I've never had so many things die that I care about all at once."

Guess this is life. Highs, lows and everything in between...

Riah

Eat Pray Love: Another day in paradise or a fool's errand?

Those who have read or watched Eat Pray Love will remember Elizabeth Gilbert's journey to Bali happened because on a previous trip she met a local fortune teller, Ketut Liyer, who told her she would return to help him. So in her now famous year of eating, praying and then loving she returned to Bali and the rest is history (and a international best selling book and a block-buster movie).

So here we are in Ubud, Bali and we live not far from Elizabeth Gilbert's famous soothsayer. Our driver, Made, knows of him and today he brought Alex, me and my sister, Sascha to have our fortunes told.

We arrived at a typical Balinese family compound with a sign outside that read:

Mr. Ketut Liyer, Medicine Man, Healing and Meditation, Palm Reading, Balinese Astrology, Painter and Woodcarver and Home Stay.

The compound seemed to consist of several buildings including a kitchen, little houses for sleeping, a washing area and a temple along with the requisite Bali dogs, some cats and caged birds. In addition to the typical family compound set up this one also had several waiting room type chairs, a fridge full of overpriced beverages and deli-counter-style numbers to secure a place in line. There were five other foreigners in the yard waiting to see Ketut and the Balinese drivers sat on the sidelines reading newspapers and talking on cell phones waiting for their clients.

After about an hour Sascha had her turn with the fortune teller. I had gone off on an errand and didn't catch what she had been told. When she was done I sat down on a palm leaf mat next to this elderly man of uncertain age. He wears a sarong and has very few teeth left; when he laughs, which he often does, there is a lone prominent front tooth visible. Ketut was very enthusiastic as I sat down repeating “oh, so so so pretty, hehehe;” the actor in the movie did a very good depiction of him so if you've seen the movie you can imagine it all! He was very warm and sweet.

Here is my fortune:

• I am going to live until 100 years.

• I am going to be very rich, “you understand rich?”

• I will have only one husband.

• He cautioned Alex not to work at night because some man may come to the house in the middle of the night and whistle and all will be lost for Alex.

• If we break up with each other it would be “very very bad.”

• I should not drive fast because there are too many traffic accidents so we should drive slowly and carefully.

• When he asked me what work I do I told him I'm a nurse but that I don't have job. He looked alarmed. “Why no job?” I said “for resting,” which didn't appease him. So Alex and I both tried “for looking after children.” Still not settled. He looked me carefully in my eyes and said “Oh, no, you must get job when you get home.” He suggested if I don't I won't be able to work ever again.” Geeze. Just as I'm getting to be quite comfortable in my mini-retirement looking after children here comes this guy telling me I have to get a job again. Sheesh!

So there I was feeling rather satisfied at my good fortune, and then Alex sat down and I overheard his fortune. While I'm delighted that he also has a good fortune, it was exactly the same as mine. The difference between our fortunes was that he told me to get a job and Alex that he is very powerful and influential and should write papers to help people (this before knowing Alex's profession or penchant for research).

And after the session Sascha told me that she had also the exact same fortune. And Alex told me that the woman he chatted with from London, Ontario, had told him she got the same fortune too. So it seems that the soothsayer's real genius is knowing that foreigners will pay for a promise of a good life. Although we had previously been told that the price is “an offering” (whatever the person wants to give or can give is acceptable) we were told by one of Ketut's handlers (his son) that the fee is 250 000 IDR. This amounts to about $30 which is a veritable fortune in Bali. Sascha, Alex and I all gladly paid the fee and went on our way with the confidence of knowing we will be happy, rich, and live until 100 years old...

Sascha describes the experience as an expensive compliment...

Riah

Anika Visits Me

My visit with Anika was fun, super, awesome, lovely, happy, fresh, impressive, and wonderfully nice.

Highlight number 1: Pizza at Three Monkeys. Getting to go for pizza at my favourite restauarant in Bali, the Three Monkeys with my friend Anika was spectacular and the drinks we had were off the roof. We had mocktails that were rainbow.

Highlight number 2: Getting to learnhow to scuba dive on Gili Trawangan. With Anika we went to Gili T for five days. On the second day we were there we went for an intro PADI course to see if we wanted to learn how to dive. We had a great instructor named Vanessa. On the first day we learned the basics and we went to the pool first. In the pool we got to put on the diving equipment and practice diving skills before we would hit the ocean.

After our little pool session went to our place next door and hit the sack.

The next day we went into the ocean and got to see a lot of fish. We saw clown fish, rainbow fish, puffer fish and rock fish and way more fish than I could have imagined. While we were under we had an unexpected encounter with a Trigger Fish. It attacked us as our instructor Vanessa held us up high while she kicked off the trigger fish with her fins. It was kind of creepy. After the trigger fish we got out of the water and went in to shore. After the diving and ever since my ears have been hurting a lot. It feels like I'm on an airplane and when I yawn my ears pop. I do not want to go diving again because of my sensitive ears.

Highlight number 3: Waterbom (a big water park). The opportunity of going to Waterbom and going on crazy scary water slides plus tubing little rivers and down water slides was great. But including Anika it was even better. I liked it because we could go on double tubes together and we could go down more water slides because our weight would be more. Some water slides you had to be a certain weight and by putting us together we were like the weight of an adult.

What was special about the visit? My best friend, Anika, had come from the other side of the world to see me and my family and to do all of this cool stuff (including surfing) with me.

by Chloë

BALI by Chloe

Beautiful Bali full of culture, character, love and life

An outstanding assortment of species that includes animals and plants

Lots of rice paddies as far as the eye can see

Inspirational music, dance and art.

Ava's first trip to space

We recently took a trip to a little island called Gili Trowangan rated by Lonely Planet as one of the top 10 places on earth to visit. While we were there the kids had the opportunity of a lifetime and got to try scuba diving. Yes, at the ripe old ages of eight and 11 they got to scuba dive! She was extremely nervous and I wasn't sure she would go ahead with the whole program, but with the help of an amazing dive instructor, Vanessa Lil from Scotland, the kids dove and had a great time. Here is what Ava wrote about the experience:

Today I took a diving lesson. My instructor was very nice. Her name is Vanessa. Under water we played with little plastic rockets. We each had one. We counted to three with fingers and then threw them at each other. (We swam in the pool because I had to learn first). We did flips and hand stands. She taught me "Dive Language" (when you're under water you can't talk so you use signs). She showed me the signs for "turtle," "clown fish," "my ears hurt," something's wrong," Let's go up," "I like it down there," "shark alert!" " A moray eel," "I love this!" and "RRRUUUNNN!"

When you dive you get an extra breather for in case a friend loses air. They call it an octopus (I don't know why.) We fooled around with our octopuses. Vanessa stuck hers in my wet suit and pressed the "shoot air" button. I did it to her arm.

Before long it was time for me to go. Before I left she gave me a sruprise. I got a Bubble Maker towel, a Bubble Maker tattoo, two bubble maker stickers, a certificate, an activity book and an invitation to come back!

The next day I went diving in the ocean. I was REALLY scared. But since it was just me and Vanessa if I didn't want to go under I didn't have to. But I started off going one meter and then I did the down signal and we went two meters deep. We swam inside a school of fish. We saw a very rare fish: Baby Bum Headed Parrot FIsh. It was giant! The full grown ones are as long as me! I saw a giant mountain of coral, it was so big that I had to bend my knees to not touch it. We stayed under for half an hour. It felt like two seconds. Vanessa carried a blow-up flag so the boat would follow us and we would not get lost. Vanessa helped me do a flip. We saw a lot of Red Tooth Trigger Fish. We also saw some parrot fish. And some yellow fish with black stripes. We also saw some Butter Fly Fish and Pygmy Snapper. It was the funnest thing I ever did in my life!

At dinner time, before we ate, we got drinks and we saw Vanessa. She Came and sat with us. My parents ordered a drink for her. I was telling her about how in Maui at the Aquarium they had a shark breed thing. We both were sad about people eating shark fin soup. Vanessa ran to her house and came back with a shark tooth. She gave it to me!

My mini pledge: Tomorrow I will see Vanessa for the last time on this trip. But I promise I will find her some time. She was the best non-school teacher I ever had. I WILL SEE HER AGAIN. Signed: Ava

The Value of Rice by Ava

Rice in Bali is very valuable. For example, we saw a man who spilled some rice and he picked up every little grain of rice, one by one. And before there was money the Balinese used rice. I think it's because they know how hard it is to grow rice.

Ava

Bad days can happen, even in Bali or Trouble in Paradise

When we decided to move from Vancouver to Yellowknife and were considering how we'd handle the extreme cold, a friend pointed out that weather, good or bad, doesn't cause one's state of mind. Similarly, being away from the pressures of home and missing most of winter doesn't mean that life is without challenges. I keep intending to write a post about this because we mostly write about fun and adventure which may leading people to imagine the angels singing and skies opening to the heavens over Bali. By now there have been enough circumstances that have sufficiently irritated me so I can authenticity describe some of the drawbacks of being here.

Where oh where did my I Pod go? (and watch and phone and binoculars)

We've been enamored by this lovely summer-cottage type house we're renting and by the staff who work here. We are fed great food, our children are treated like gold, and we enjoy their company. The last thing on our minds has been the possibility of theft. So when we couldn't locate Alex's watch in January we assumed it was misplaced and would turn up. Same with the binoculars. And then the cell phone. But when my new I Pod Touch that Alex gave me for Christmas disappeared recently and can't be found anywhere (in spite of ransacking the house several times) it makes one's mind turn past absent mindedness and to more sinister possibilities. No one seems to think that it could have been an intruder so I'm left either believing I'm totally crazy and have lost my memory or wondering if it was taken by someone closer. And of all things to lose, the I Pod is such a useful tool - it's got all of the photos I have taken since we left home, a contact list, music I use at the gym, and has been so much fun on this trip. How I wish we'd enabled the security features on it before it was lost!

Our last attempt at getting it returned is going to be posting notices offering a reward and if the I Pod isn't found I'll put it out of mind and replace it when we get home. There are many more important things than an I Pod and, in a place which puts much emphasis on karma, if there are any sticky fingers people live with theirs.

“You've ruined my life”

Our children didn't want to be plucked from Yellowknife and transported thousands of kilometers to the other side of the world. And in spite of all of the amazing things that they get to do here, they'll tell you they want to go home yesterday. In fact, Chloe's complaints to my mother when she first arrived in Bali in February led my mom to offer to bring Chloe back to Canada. This rescue plan became obviously absurd once she saw how engaged Chloe is in life here. But even still, Chloe has told me “you ruined my life by taking me away from skiing.” So, not to put too fine a point on it, family life continues with the same moments of fire and fury as it would wherever we are. People still have their ups and downs, likes and dislikes.

“Too damp, too dank...”

We recently spent nine nights in air conditioned hotels and a villa with friends visiting from Canada. It was blissful! The cool air when sleeping and dry sheets reminded me just how humid it is where we're living. The humidity at our place ranges from a low of 73% to a high of 85%!!!! Consider that in summer in Yellowknife the humidity is about 35%. There's no air conditioning or possibility for dehumidifiers (there aren't even real ceilings in the house). What that level of humidity feels like is climbing into a wet bed at night or putting on wet clothes in the morning. There were nights in the beginning when I would wake up thinking someone had poured water on me! Getting up in the morning and choosing what to wear is fun. It always begins with a sniff test to see which clothes are the least musty. If they haven't been worn in a few days or weeks, they smell like a mushroom farm... Mmmm, fungi. The scary thing is that it's to the point where I am becoming desensitized. I had some flip flops with cloth straps and I went to put them on at the gym but someone had left me a note telling me my shoes stink. So me, with my bloodhound sense of smell couldn't tell my shoes smelled like mold!

Our plan has been to move down to the beach for the or the last three weeks we're in Bali, but now we're considering increasing that time. It's a longer commute to the school, but it would be so nice to be in a drier climate for a bit...

What does it all mean? I guess what this all makes me think is no matter where you go, there you are. There is good and bad in everything and I suppose I have to just appreciate the good and decide how much of the bad is acceptable. Will I risk more things disappearing? Not sure. We may move along earlier. Do I risk inflicting suffering on my children by having them away from home? Absolutely (they just look like they're having too much fun and I don't believe that they're suffering). How much moisture is too much? Well, I'm getting to think that four months, several ruined bathing suits, some mouldy runners and gum boots, two mouldy back packs, innumerable ruined pictures where the ink has run may be the answer to that question...

Riah

“but my friends call me Mango”

Heading to the beach on a Sunday morning starts out full of promise, but when the surf breaking on the first beach was the distinct colour of a “double-double” (coffee with cream and sugar) and on our way to an alternate second beach we drove through a tropical storm, it was hard to remain optimistic about the planned beach day. But since we had arranged to meet my sister and her English boyfriend who had just flown in from France we were determined to at least meet them before calling the whole thing off. After some wrong turns we met at a beach on the Bukit Peninsula called Geger Beach. Can't say hopes were high, but we hid out in the beach side restaurant and ate lunch while the heavens opened and rain poured.

But just as we finished our meal, “out came the sun and dried up all the rain.” The beach was white shell sand, the water crystal clear and the picturesque surf broke on a reef in the distance making for calm inshore waters. Alex rented a kayak, we flew our kite and we all had lots of time to catch up with my sister.

A couple of things happened at the beach. First, it became clear just how much Alex misses his work. He told me that he'd been walking past a surfer who was bleeding from his heel who looked Alex in the eyes and, for some reason asked him “are you a doctor?” Alex examined him and discovered his Achilles tendon was nicked so he advised him to get some sutures. Instead the guy picked up some gauze and bandages from a nearby store and Alex advised him on how to make the best of it with what he had.

It happened that this affable man and his friend were sitting in the beach chairs next to us and so we began to chat. He is from Maui, Hawaii and lives in the town next to a friend of ours. We talked about some favourite spots like Paia's Flatbread Pizza and we asked his advice about good beaches for kids to learn to surf in Bali. He clearly knows the water inside and out as he could explain minute aspects of the surf such as slight leans of the waves based on some ocean current. He was very outgoing and made sure to know all of our names saying to Ava, “Hello Ava, my name is Christopher, but my friends call me Mango” and was very courteous to everyone introducing us, who he had just met, by name. This leads to the second noteworthy aspect of the afternoon.

Our friend in Maui has shown us DVDs of surfers doing unbelievable, gravity-defying acts. These experts make surfing the waves look like being out for a gentle stroll. We also saw a movie about some men who developed Stand Up Paddle boards and hydrofoils. When this man told Ava that he is also known as Mango something tickled a memory from those DVDs we watched with our friend. In a very understated way he mentioned to Alex he makes stand up paddle boards and would give Alex a deal on one if he is interested - this was another hint.

When we got home we looked on Google and it turns out that we were sitting with Christopher “Mango” Carafino one of the men we watched on those surf DVDs with another famous surfer, Laird Hamilton. He invented something called a hydrofoil and has been very big in stand up paddle boarding. He has his own company that makes kite surfs, hydrofoils and stand up paddle boards. We've seen "Carifino" paddle boards fairly often. Once we realized this we had a giggle since Alex had innocently asked if this guy had ever tried paddle boarding which is a little like asking if Mozart ever heard the song “Twinkle Twinkle.”

But, I must say, couldn't be a nicer guy!

Anyway, just wanted to share another day in Bali...

Riah

Never say never

For the first several weeks we were here the idea of self-navigating the Balinese roads presented a daunting prospect of doom and death. But the practicalities of relying on a driver to get us around meant that we were not doing as much with our days as we wanted. In quintessentially Canadian fashion there were times I didn't want to "interrupt" our driver's day with my whims of wanting to go here and there.

One afternoon Alex made a spur of the moment decision to rent a motor scooter. He happily set off with the wind at his back (what was it he said about Easy Rider?) while my visiting parents, (Jan and Ron) and I waited around in the heat for the driver. That was a month

ago and in the time since we have been becoming increasingly brave. In one especially Balinese moment we had Alex, Maia, Ava and me on a bike all at once. As you can imagine, that was tight so the ride lasted only until the closest rental shop and resulted in a second scooter. I now have my own pink scooter and we've gone on family outings by scooter.

The act of renting a motor bike is a funny experience. Basically we hand over 500 000 Indonesian Rupiah (about $60) for a months rental, the shopkeeper asks for our passports which we never have (they're with the visa people) we are asked where we are staying and for a phone number which is apparently sufficient to hand over the key. I have had to ask them when the expect the bike back and was even given extra days because February only had 28 days (?!). No insurance documents, no rental contracts, nothing. In fact, I realize as I write this that I don't want spend a lot of time thinking about it because it seems even more reckless than the act of driving the scooters in the first place. Enough said about that.

Back to the scooters; I love it and am having so much fun riding around. We stick to an area about 10 km square. In the morning the girls head off to school and after checking in with the world by internet Alex and I hop on the scooters, sometimes with Jan and Ron as passengers, and head off down the road. It's not possible to go very quickly because even if the cars, dogs, chickens, street vendors pushing trolleys, and push bikes weren't enough to keep things slow, the innumerable pot holes act as speed bumps.

The kids love it! Chloe absolutely cannot understand why we won't just give her the keys so she can ride off on her own. Maia stands in front of our knees and looks out the front watching the world go by. Ava sits behind giving me a big hug and talking all about everything as we ride along. It feels so nice.

Riah

Cold 2 Mold!

One of the best things about Yellowknife is that you can dry a towel after leaving the shower in about 5 minutes – well maybe not that quickly. It is amazing that you can leave a package of stone wheat thins open and they don't go soft overnight. The millions of static electricity shocks that you get just trying to kiss your sweetie can make that dry air a bit annoying but it has it's moments.

Well after a few months in the rainy season in Bali the ultra dry (15% humidity in winter) air seems like a good friend that's left town for a while. I pulled my belt out to look at it the other day and it was completely covered in a light green mold (yuck!).

I like to exercise and at home my gym clothes may smell a bit but here they are soaking wet after a run in the 27 degree heat and then they get to sit in my backpack for a while and you can guess the conclusion ... Pee euw!! Most of these gym clothes smell like a mushroom farm. My shoes are at risk of being confiscated as biological weapons!

Today I joined the ultimate drop in game at the Green School. It was loads of fun trying to keep up with the grade 9 kids. I tell myself that most of them have had longer to acclimatize to the heat. After about an hour running back up and down the field I had to take my shirt off to cool off. The poor shirt I was wearing looked like it had been dropped into the river after the game! Then I bring it home and --- yikes another biological weapon.

The suitcases we brought from Canada have to come out to the porch every few days to air out. The ID tag I somehow brought from work in Yellowknife is caked in mold. Oh Why did I bring that?!!

Fortunately, my acoustic guitar that I brought down here is in heaven. It is recovering from too many dry months in Yellowknife. So at least there is a bright side to walking around in slightly damp clothing all day!

So for all my northern friends, you may be cold but you aren't covered in mold!

Now that's hot air!

Every few weeks the Green School principle invites parents to a morning meeting. It is an opportunity for the parents to learn about school initiatives and for general communication. (Apparently all young organizations, no matter how ideal, have growing pains!) The first meeting I went to reminded me too much of being at work so I shied away until today. And I'm so glad to have gone!

The school's operations manager is an Indian engineer named Arjay. His team keeps the buildings and grounds safe and he develoops green technologies. Today he unveiled a system that converts dung from the school's livestock into cooking gas for the school cafeteria. Arjay has been working on this system under the mentorship of a man who has built over 800 in India. Apparently there are large Indian office buildings harnessing methane from food waste.

There were about 40 people including visitors from other schools and a reporter who were taken to see two large yellow drums (see picture above) with a fuel hose running about 20 feet to a gas cooker. Arjay explained that when methane gas is burned it converts into carbon dioxide and water which is less toxic than methane itself. It can be used in the same way we would use propane or natural gas for cooking.

To capture methane one only needs a source of gas (food or dung) that is made into a "slurry" by mixing it with water. The slurry is fed into the large tank and then heat from the sun releases the methane which is caught by the smaller tank at the top and held until it is needed (for example, when the stove is turned on). The byproduct is fertilizer which comes out of a tube in the lower part of the system. And when the gas tank gets low, instead of a trip to the fuel station, look for the closest cow! Food waste or dung of any source will do.

As he was talking, Arjay asked one of his team to fetch some dung from one of the school cows. It was brought and Arjay poured some water into the bucket. One of the parents asked how they mix the slurry and Arjay said “by hand.” What I witnessed next was certainly a surprise because I wasn't prepared for how literal he was! Elbow deep in cow dung soup - there was Arjay stirring! He pulled out little bits of hay informing us that the hay should be removed as it clogs the system. Once the slurry was mixed to his satisfaction, in it went into the system ready to bubble into usable cooking fuel

What an amazing use of what is probably the epitome of garbage! It makes total sense to use the methane gas for cooking, particularly when you consider that many families in the developing world are unable to afford fuel for cooking and they rely on collecting little bits of wood for cooking fuel. But I have to admit, I stay on the side of theory here – I have no inclination to bury my arms in dung for any purpose. But there are an awful lot of cows around here (whose purpose I can't exactly figure out since Bali is overwhelmingly Hindu and they don't eat beef and they don't use them for milk) just doing their business and wasting hot air...

Riah

Surfs up!

Chloe and her friend, Elena, surfing (Chloe on the right)

Recently someone commented "you can't be in Bali and not surf." So when I heard another parent was taking her daughters to surf lessons on Saturday, I signed Chloe up at the Rip Curl Surf School.

The waves were great for beginners - small enough to be manageable and big enough to be fun. Each girl had a private teacher who acted like a sherpa. They pulled the kids into the surf, helped them chose a wave and give them a push. It was great to see the girls up on the board right away.

The beach had a great set up: show up with towels, sunscreen, and swim suits

and rent lounge chairs and umbrellas. We rented boogy boards and got a kite to fly as well. All in all, a really nice day at the beach...

Riah

Ava flying a kite...

Maia testing the water...

Boogie Boarding by Ava

Yesterday i went boogie-boarding at the beach. A big wave came and pulled me right under. But the rest just drove me to shore. A girl in my class named Judy was there. We went boogie-boarding together. A little later my mom asked me to bury a dead fish (which was lying in front of our beach chairs). So I asked Judy to help me bury it. We dug a hole and used shovels to push the fish into the hole then we covered it up with sand. After that we went back in the water. I love boogie-boarding!

Ava checking out the waves

Easy Rider (Alex as Peter Fonda)

There's a movie from way back called Easy Rider. It's about these guys who hit the road on their Harley's in the psychadelic 60s. Well 40 or so years later there is Easy Rider 2 ( or is it EASY RIDER RETURNS? SON OF EASY RIDER??).

Everyone in Bali drives a motorscooter or a motor bike. You see 7 year old kids whipping by you on the road on their motorscooters doubling their younger brother - with no helmet! Sometimes you see a whole family on a bike. No one needs an SUV here. It helps that body sizes are smaller.

Yesterday I joined the two wheeled scooter race with a decent yamaha rental bike. I think it's probably got at least 75CCs. It even came with a couple of helmets. Now there's no holding back on exploring this wonderful island.

It helps that it gives off a cooling breeze when you ride too!

Easy Rider is about freedom, about being born to be wild. No that we've got our two wheeled chariot for free wheeling down past the potholes of life we will never be the same.

My daily routine at school - by Chloe

Here's my routine for the people out there who were wondering about my school day in Bali.

My morning is getting up at 6:45, being lazy for 15 min, getting dressed, going to see the chicks, eating breakfast,being lazy going to lie down, brushing my teeth and hair, packing my school bag, getting my shoes on and heading out the door to meet our driver. I get into the car and listen to my iPod for the 20 minute to 30 minute drive to school. When I get to school i have 15min of home room and then my school day starts.

Heres my daily schedule:

Monday	Tuesday	Wednesday	Thursday	Friday
drama	PE	Indonesian studies	PE	math
music	Global awareness	Spanish	Music	English
break	break	break	break	break
English	English	English	English	art
math	math	math	math	art
lunch	lunch	lunch	lunch	lunch
Global awareness	Green studies	library	science	assembly
Indonesian studies	Green studies	Green studies	science	Community service

On Tuesday after school I have an after school activity that is called Creative Arts with Pak (Mr.) Sussiawan and Ibu (Ms.) Susan. I am about to start Capioera next week on Thursdays (Caprioera is a Brazilian martial art that includes dance, music, and fighting). On Fridays I swim with the school swim team for the first two periods.

I love drama on Monday mornings. This is the perk of my day. In drama we sing, we dance, and we act. We also get to play music. Today we did a dragon dance for the Chinese New Year. I was one of the drummers and so was Elana, one of my friends (she's from Seattle in the US). I also love green studies because we get to go on hikes, we get to garden and dig in cow poo and horse poo (manure!!!!!!). I love to get dirty. At the end of the day my mom says to have a bath but I never do. Instead I go in the pool downstairs and swim with Ava and Maia. Also in green studies we're planting corn, peanuts, watermelon, okra, cucumbers and some herbs and spices in our classes' little garden. In the school garden there is a lot of stuff. Everything we have at the Warung (school cafe) and in school lunches comes from the school gardens.

At school they only use bread that they make and everything is homemade. They're building a lunch hall that's shaped like a dragon and it's made out of flattened oil drums. There has been a competition in art class to design the head of dragon fo rthe lunch hall. I did the Canadian Dragon. It has horns that make it look like a maple leaf. I looked it up on the internet. It' doesn't look ferocious, it looks friendly but it can still take another dragon that is trying to kill it down.

At the end of the week we do some community work and start to slow ourselves down. Our community work is on the Merangie Foundation. It's a foundation that grows bamboo for farmers that don't get that much money. The Merangie foundation will give them some bamboo and then the farmers can keep it growing over years because if you chop a piced of bamboo it will grow back. They get a pot of bamboo and it grows then the farmers can sell pieces of it or make thing sout of it to sell. We count all the bamboo around the school that is still living and we GPS them onto Google Earth. I don't know why we do this.

The assemblies on Fridays help slow things down a bit with the principle and everyone all you have to do is sit back and listen and keep your eyes and ears open but maybe shut your brain down.

At the end of my school day I go to the Warung and wait for my driver and look around for my sisters. I talk to my friends while waiting. I finally get into the car and go home. That's the end of my school day.

When I get home I have an after school snack and then Nuadi and Neoman make us supper.

Goodnight...

CHICK-CHICK-CHICKENS

In the space of three days our chicken population went from four to eight to six.

It turns out that the fuzzy colourful chicks don't last long. I wonder if they're intended as toys rather than proper chickens. For reasons unknown, the yellow one went from healthy Saturday evening to dead by Sunday morning. The pink one was next – she was resting by herself in the cage on Sunday and then died with no identifiable cause. As of today we have neon green Fifi and bright orange Jenga (named after an orange flower). A few tears were shed and Alex dealt with the remains.

Unknown to me, Chloe had continued negotiations with Nuadi to find a mother hen with baby chicks even after we got the kooky four. He asked around and found his neighbour was willing to part with a hen and her three chicks. Chloe paid him $12 from her allowance and Nuadi brought them over on Saturday (the pinnacle of our chicken population).

The “Bali Chickens,” a robust black hen and her three scrappy chicks are like a different species of animal from the little chicks. Neoman and Nuadi tell us that Bali chickens are much more strong than the other ones and will survive a long time. For now it's a rather ridiculous scene in the yard; two bird cages one holding the teeny tiny comical chicks and the other with an indignant hen and her serious looking chicks. During the day all five chicks run around the yard and mother hen stays in the cage (otherwise she'll run off with chicks in tow) and scolds us and her chicks all day.

The interesting thing is just how into the chickens the girls are. Chloe wants to start a veggie patch at home and has arranged for some space to do this. So far we haven't been able to figure out where to purchase seeds from so nothing's in the ground yet. But even if we don't get to that in time, the girls are planting peanuts and corn in the rice field at school and okra, herbs, spices, cucumbers and watermelons outside their classrooms so the farmer instinct them should be satisfied.