Visiting Bali: Wedding Panoramas

“Long can the best of humans show faithfulness to one another.” – Old Sean

Thieves’ Dawn

I’m currently in Bali for my friend’s destination wedding. The franticness of the event caused my morning to move with the utmost swiftness, despite hiccups.

I woke up very early in the morning so I could begin driving north to pick up my rental suit for the wedding.  As I lurked out of my shared lodgings, I noticed one of the Chinese guests crouched by the pool, near the sleeping form of the groom’s brother (who has been sleeping outside at night.)

I closed the door carefully to avoid waking my roommates. But when I looked up again, the person was traipsing towards the door at a swift trot. Whoever this was, the individual clearly wasn’t one of the guests, though I couldn’t see a face or even determine a gender.

I shouted and the figure burst into a sprint, slamming out the front door.  Shoeless and befuddled, I only followed them to the entrance before rushing back and shaking Clinton (the groom’s brother) awake.

I don’t think I reacted well. If I’m ever robbed in the wee hours of the morning, don’t wake me up by shaking me while saying “Oi, mate, bad shit.  You’d better count your things.”

Luckily for Clinton, the only thing stolen was a fair amount of cash from his wallet, which they left behind.  (He has a TMNT wallet he’s fond of).

The man took the loss in a surprisingly upbeat mood, especially after finding his speaker and his passport intact.  Overall, he decided to stay awake while I chose to make my way to pick up my suit, vowing to lock my backpack and my room from then on.

Suit Up

The suit fitting was mercifully quick and I took the same taxi back home, where I met up with a group for coffee before washing and shaving for the wedding.  Jake, the groom, called and asked me to relay everything to the building owner when he arrived, but there wasn’t much anyone could do except triple check that we locked everything at night while warning all the other guests to keep a slightly closer eye on their things.

We started the long ride south, heading to Pandawa Beach for the wedding venue, specifically at the Villa Karang Putih.  On the way we got to see the enormous and iconic statue Patung Garuda Wisnu Kenana, which is certainly worth a stop.

At the wedding venue, things were still morbidly hot, so guests abstained from changing into their wedding attire for as long as possible.  However, this is a Chinese wedding, so some odd games were afoot, as per the culture.

For example, the groom and several friends had to complete a series of very strange tasks to perfection.

The first was a…. well, twerking contest.  The groom and his brother Clinton put on a plastic box filled with orange ping pong balls.  The goal was to twerk for the bride to get 10 ping pong balls to bounce out within about 30 seconds.

Secondly, I was up.  This was the groom and myself entering a push up competition.  Except it was on top of a rubber squeaking chicken.  I had to make the chicken caw for a push up to count and both of us needed to make it to ten.

Afterwards, every one of the groomsmen had to do a portrait activity.  These were empty portrait frames that were wrapped in four layers of clear saran wrap.  The goal was to push your head through while others took photos.  So… yup, I’ll be sure to find that during my next job interview.

The next activity was being blindfolded and placing lipstick on the groom and one of his friends.  I was blindfolded and did a “commendable” job.

Naturally, this was followed by two minutes of hula dancing.

Finally, the bride’s red shoes were hidden somewhere in the room.  Using red packets filled with small amounts of Chinese yuan, we were supposed to pay off the bridesmaids to give us hints to find the shoes.  I’m not sure where the first one was found, but the second was tucked into a set of curtains and nearly landed on Jake’s head.

It was good fun, but I dread Chinese mini-games.

Onward to Matrimony

All said and done, there was a familial tea ceremony, where Jake and his bride gave respect to other family members by serving them very formal tea.  This was a lovely ceremony portion with lots of photos (I got tea spilled on me) and finally, it was time for the wedding.

The venue was a large, open field tapering off into an enormous cliff overlooking the ocean.  Sandy beaches and tide pools glimmered far below us and a large flock of paragliders swing around the edge of the cliff to the East.  Wooden chairs were draped in red finery and an alter was crowded with romantic effects.  I was given a small box to hold the rings and in moments, the ceremony began.

Jake walked out first, dressed in a tailored suit of black with glimmering cuff-links.  A rack of polished medals for his military service blazed on his chest and his strides were clipped and calm across the low grass.

Kristin came out next, shaded by a pair of woman carrying umbrellas.  She was shimmering in a white dress that trailed long behind her, the top flowing in the wind.  A bundle of brilliant red roses rested in her hand and she glided forward, pressed by soft music.

It was beautifully coordinated.  A woman in the back sang softly, speakers moderated to be heard just above the wind.  I strode out behind Jake with Macy (as maid of honor) on my arm.  Kristin finally walked down the aisle, accompanied by her father while flower-girls tossed petals in front of her.

The rest is what you’d expect.  Vows were said, the priest spoke in a husky timbre, a paraglider photobombed a few shots and I stepped behind Jake to pass along the rings before returning to parade rest.  When Kristin read, her voice trembled and all of her guests (who understood Cantonese) cried and sniffled openly.

When the ceremony was finally done, there were many more photos, lots of drone shots and other minor festivities.  Everyone started getting changed and packing up their last few things.  On the opposite side of the field, another wedding venue was being constructed of a shallow, flat pool and white flower arches.

Following the Wedding

We all coordinated slightly confusing rides to head to a restaurant which was known for excellent food and ambiance.  These low straw-and-bamboo huts were placed floating above the water, with guests toes dipping into the pond.  I kicked a many curious minnows (accidentally) while waiting for food to arrive (slowly).  But when it did arrive, we feasted.  Everyone gave toasts and love to the newly married couple and all wandered back to the villa to pre-game before heading out for another night of drinking.

We did get hit by a taxi scam on the way back, a man asking for 500,000 rupiahs for 10 minute drive.  It left a bad tastes in my mouth, but I had everyone else unload, get the luggage and stand clear while I kept the guy’s attention by gradually throwing a growling fit.  In the end, I gave him what I thought was a little above fair (50,000, about 3 or 4 USD) and stalked away.  Overall, it was fine, but again, it left a bad taste in my mouth.

One of the ironic things I’ve learned about myself while traveling is my view of scams. I’m grudgingly fond of many, which are clever and well-designed to fleece the unwitting from their money. But I can’t stand lazy scams which have no grace or tact, freely outlining the strings of manipulation in plain view of the target. Taxi scams are the worst of these, since they’re so blunt and common, avoiding them feels like a unnecessary chore.

Back at the villa, Jake was pouring out shots in preparation for a night on the town.  Knowing I didn’t have the capacity to continue drinking and I had to be up in the morning to drop off the suit, I went for a swim in the pool, occasionally called out to do some shots of Patron.

Finally, night fell, the villa door was triple locked.

A Bali Experience

The next day, I went back to drop my suit off once more, thanking Sewa Jas Denpasar for their service.  Amazingly profession business, that one, and timely.  Bring an ID card such as a driver’s license to leave as collateral when picking up a suit.

When I returned to the Villa, most of the other guests were shaking off hangovers.  I dressed myself in the most comfortable attire I had, since we were heading out to Ubud, a famous tourist destination a couple hours to the north.

The first place our large van ricocheted towards was called Bali Swing on Google Maps but it’s named the Bahama Swing Club on the stone signs there.  This series of sturdy buildings juts out over a tropical cliff watching the swirls of a muddy river far, far below.  A series of rope activities, swings and scenic human-sized bird nests are virtually everywhere, allowing people to get lots of photos.

This kind of area is appealing to Chinese tourists, and indeed, almost the entire population here consisted of Chinese people snapping endless pictures while dressed in long, flowing attire of bright colors.

That being said, Bahama Swing Club has exciting aspects as well.  The swings that I got harnessed to were legitimately exhilarating, plunging above dense foliage and launching people outwards from safe ground. 

The ride administrators, three men with wicked gleams in their eyes, would spring up a series of stone steps and grab a person on the back-swing.  Then, grabbing the bottom of the swing as it returned, they would take a running leap with a full-body whiplash to fling the person back into the ether.

Great stuff.  I whistled.  My compatriot, a man named George, hooted and called with every launch.  Eventually, we took a series of cement steps down into the river, following overgrown jungle trails along the riverside to abandoned shrines choked with life.

We trudged our way back to the top of the cliff only to be called back.  Apparently, we had walked into a different swing park, this one being a place we weren’t allowed. 

We were escorted out, at which point we got back to our friends who had been mildly curious about our whereabouts.  We explained over milkshakes, ate yellow chicken for lunch, fed our leftovers to a very vocal restaurant cat missing a tail and piled back into the car.

An Ubud Afternoon

Next, we were due in Ubud proper, which boasts the Ubud Art Market.  This is more like a cluttered bazaar, and walking through was an interesting experience.  Everyone puttered around for souvenirs to bring back home, though I abstained.  Souvenirs are too much weight to carry as things are.

There was also a quick visit to the Sarawati Temple, which had the usual Hindi icons and snarling figures all about.  It was impressive, but our large group was too bulky and everyone split up rather swiftly afterwards.

I joined George again, visiting numerous clothing shops, market stalls and a couple of Gelato places.  He was interested in a storefront called Ubud Raw Chocolate, which gave us an interesting, extremely rich sample platter.  When all was said and done, I was happy to get back in the van and head to the Villa.

Arriving back, I didn’t have very much time before it was time to leave.  My flight was due to leave in a mere few hours, so I began circulating through, saying my goodbyes, getting my last couple of showers and generally accounting my gear.  I passed around whatever change I didn’t plan on taking with me and left for the airport with Jackie, Jake’s sister.

Now, I type this at the airport once more, awaiting my flight.  Security was a bit slower than I legitimately appreciated, but the whole process was much smoother than China’s usually is.

I’m flying to Osaka next, so until then,

Best regards and excellent trails,

Old Sean

Written January 19th 2020

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