A Bali-wood Moment

The book that started it all

Just before we left for Bali, Lia stumbled upon an article that, in a nutshell, lamented the fact that Eat, Pray, Love had turned Ubud into a hotbed of middle-aged, kaftan-wearing, single women who were all out to write a novel and snag a Javier Bardam. While the article did have some truth to it (even if it was a little too snarky), my fellow travelers and I bore no shame in seeking out the now famous Ketut.

As I mentioned in my previous post, Ketut is a very common Ubud name. And asking someone for the whereabouts of a Ketut is akin to asking a Filipino if they know where Jun-Jun, Bhoy, or Kuya lives. So if you’re looking for a specific Ketut, you need to be well, specific. In this case, we asked about Ketut Liyer.

Ketut, and nothing but Ketut!

Our driver knew exactly where to take us and pretty soon we drove up to the family compound Elizabeth Gilbert so aptly described in her book, which was later depicted  in the Julia Roberts film. We hopped out of our van, casually wandered in, and just like that, there he was: the Ketut, sitting on the little balcony of one of the compound’s homes, gazing about. It was felt, quite literally, as though we had stepped into a made-for-movie moment.

Nyoman and his grandson

Ketut’s son, Noyman, greeted us, and we asked if we could have a photo taken with his father. Nyoman agreed, but informed us that a reading would cost US$20. We immediately flocked over to Ketut, jockeyed for our positions, and snapped away—slightly star struck, rather demanding, and in a rush. I think we were all secretly worried they would shoo us away before we could get our facebook-worthy shots!

And just like in the movie Ketut said, “Wait moment, wait moment, Ketut drink coffee.” Apparently, we had walked in just in time for his afternoon snack. 

Lia decided to sign up for a reading. I was also open to going for my own session, and in the meantime, stayed by Lia to get some blow-by-blow documentation. Once seated, Ketut proceeded to give Lia her reading.

Eat your heart out, Julia Roberts!

“You very pretty. You make me happy. Your eyebrows, very pretty they make me happy. Your cheeks, very pretty…” You guessed it! They made Ketut very happy.

The rest of the reading went something like this…

K: You have boyfriend?

L: No.

K: You have husband?

L: No.

K: Why not?

L: I don’t know Ketut, you tell me—that’s why I’m here! 

When he read her palm he said…

K: You will have a success. Because you very pretty. Not like Ketut. You very pretty, you make Ketut very happy.

K: You be a writer. (Which Lia already is.)

K: You work with beauty. (Which Lia already does.)

L: Can you tell me something I don’t know?

At this point we were all dying of laughter. It really was turning out to be something of a joke. 

L: You know Ketut, I’m psychic.

K: I’m sick?! What am I sick of?

The conversation went around in circles for a little longer. And as it turns out, a life-altering reading wasn’t in the cards for Lia. But the hilarious experience was totally worth every penny she spent.

It was also quite sweet to see Ketut proudly show off his dedicated copy of Eat, Pray, Love. He even asked Lia to read aloud the passage where he first appears in the book.

I didn't see the point in sitting though a repeat performance of what I had already read in the novel, watched in the movie, and had just seen happen right before my very eyes a few moments earlier, so I opted out of my own session. But Nyoman was kind enough to snap a solo shot for me. For one last parting shot, I joked Ketut saying, “You know, I can give you a reading.” But the wise man just looked at me quizzically, and I figured we had come upon yet another lost in translation moment. So I thanked him, and left.

Whee!

 ***

Later that evening I told Andre, our resort’s German owner, about our afternoon with Ketut. He stifled a laugh and told me he could have saved us some money. “Let me guess, did he tell you that you’ll have success? He tells everyone the same thing!”

Andre did add that it isn’t really Ketut’s fault since he doesn’t know a lot of English. “If someone who understands Balinese goes for a reading,” he explained, “Ketut can tell you a lot of things. Like if you need to do some work to help the tress, or how many children you’re going to have. But in English, you all get the same thing.”

Now I’m glad I struck up that conversation because it helped me realize that I should actually go easy on Ketut. After all, it isn’t his fault he’s famous. Besides, it isn’t every day that one gets to encounter an Ubud institution with a bit of Hollywood on the side.

Hmm... Maybe next time!

Here's a link to the snarky article:

http://jezebel.com/5601522/how-elizabeth-gilbert-ruined-bali

The Silver Linings Playbook

The gateway to our first home in Bali.

Last Christmas, some friends and I took advantage of an airline promo, booked our tickets to Bali, Indonesia, and looked forward to our weeklong Eat, Pray, Love-inspired adventure. As soon as April rolled around, we started counting down the days to our April 23^rd lift off.

We arrived in Denpasar bright and early in the morning and immediately headed inland towards Ubud, the home of rice paddies, arts, culture, and a pretty swinging hippie scene. As this would be my first time in the Island of the Gods, I was all set to make the most of my experience. At the top of my list: a silver crafting class at Chez Monique (www.chezmoniquejewelry.com/).

When my friend Lia inquired online, she was told that classes are held every day at 9 am. Since we spotted the Chez Monique shop on our way to our first Bali meal at Bebek Bengil (for crispy duck!), we figured we were good to go, and booked our car for an 8:45 pickup the next morning. Of course it would have been a good idea to sign up for our slots, but well, we didn’t.

Despite leaving our resort, Indigo Tree, a little late, Lia, our other friend Marcie, and I made it to Chez Monique in record time—only to be greeted by a padlocked door. We waited a few minutes, then realized we couldn't huff and puff the door down. So we

walked across the street to Confiture Michéle to say hi to Wayan who ran the crepe and jam shop, and had been super friendly when we popped in the day before. Wayan actually means firstborn, and Ubud is filled with Wayans, Mades (second born), Nyomans (third) and Ketuts (fourth).  We ordered soursop and kombucha shakes which Wayan gladly whipped up. 

At this point the Chez Monique shop was still closed, which was cause for growing concern even if we were on Bali time—so Wayan went over to the store next to Chez Monique, yelled until they opened up, and asked them to call the owner. Within 15 minutes a tall man with a wide smile drove up in a mini van and Wayan excitedly pointed to him crying, “Monique! Chez Monique! He’s the owner!” In our excitement Lia, Marcie, and I promptly cheered saying, “Yay! Hello, Monique!”

At first we thought we were on Bali time!

Turns out a) we were supposed to reserve our slots the day before, b) we should have proceeded to his family compound where the classes are actually held, and c) his class was filled up for the morning. Upon seeing our unmistakable disappointment (not to mention our friendly harassment), he agreed to take us to the workshop, explaining that we would first spend time working on our designs then could start crafting when the others were done. We piled into his car and began peppering him with questions: So, Monique, how many students do you have? Oh, so the class is in your compound? Who else lives there? Monique, if we would like to live in Bali, where can we stay? Monique’s responses were informative, animated, and most of all sincere. It seemed as though we were becoming fast friends—or as good as friends we could become in the span of a ten-minute car ride.

At the compound, we walked past a maze of homes until we got to his where the workshop was in full swing. Our “classmates” were working on the rings, peace signs, and pendants. Across the board, everyone was having fun, and everyone was working on a design that was deeply personal.

One couple was celebrating their wedding anniversary with matching rings (he made hers, she made his). Another lady inscribed “this too shall pass” on her pendant. A newly-engaged couple walked in and asked if the man could make a wedding ring for his bride-to-be. Unfortunately there was really no more room so they ended up making an appointment for the next day. They may have had a better story, but looks like we had better negotiation skills!

Monique handed us several folders with possible designs, served us some cold water, and introduced us to his wife… Monique. At that point we finally realized that one should never presume a man bears the same name as his shop. And that is how we met Wayan #2.

Wayan #2 a.k.a. "Monique" 
working on our classmate's "this too shall pass" pendant.

Step #1: Choosing Your Design

Lia already knew she wanted to make a ring with an ohm symbol on it and came prepared with an image on her phone. Marcie flipped though the folders and after some time, decided on a

necklace with a double infinity sign. I was taking longer than expected and even if my friends were encouraging, I started to feel secretly stressed inside. I knew I wanted to create something that symbolized the idea of love, but my sheet filled with sketches of heart rings and double heart pendants just seemed too literal. The more I drew, the more panicked and pressured I felt. Sort of like when you’re the last person in your group to leave a hotel room and everyone is waiting in the lobby with their suitcases. Ugh!

That was when I decided to just close my eyes, center myself, and draw what love seemed like. I squiggled away, losing myself in the process. And when I opened my eyes, I knew I had my design.

I then had to render a smaller, simpler version to base my pendant on, and waited for Wayan to show me what to do next. But now I was thrilled with the prospect and glad I didn’t succumb to doing an eenie-meanie-minie-mo, or making something for the sake of it.

Love = two souls joined as one.
From inspired design (left) to practical interpretation (right).
I asked Wayan to sign my sketch as well.

Step #2: Making the Frame.

Wayan pulled out some thick silver wire, measured and cut it, and showed me how to bend it into shape. When I had gotten that just right, it was time to have my silver soldered. It was pretty fascinating to watch but I stayed a safe distance away from the sparks, as well as the acid the silver is dipped in afterwards—especially when I’d hear that sizzling hissing sound!

Lending moral support from a safe distance!

Step #3: Filing the Bumps Down 

From there Wyan showed me how to file the rough edges that formed where the silver was melded together. “It’s very easy,” he said, “just like filing your nails!” He was nearly accurate—only this type of filing took a little longer and required a lot more effort. I had also decided that I wanted the frame of my pendant to be flat so I had to pound away at the silver with a hammer. Wayan complimented me by saying, “Wow, you do most of the work! Hardly any for us to do.” I think he was surprised with how focused I was considering I could have stopped after a few photo ops!

Step #4: Finishing the Design

Next I had to complete the pendant. This part was a little tricky as it meant twisting a rather fine silver wire into swirls. I did my best but also realized it would be wise to have the experts refine my work. I had gotten so invested in the process by this point though, so I let my back seat silver crafter lose and made sure the angles of the swirls were just so. Haha!

My pendant went for one last round of soldering and was passed on for buffing. Then, ta-dah! I was done :)

Despite all the setbacks I must say that I had a wonderful morning. I came away with a special piece of jewelry, participated in a fun, new skill, made some new friends, but more importantly, I allowed myself to relax into the moment. And as my short time in Bali was already teaching me, I realized that sometimes, it is best to just let go. Doing so opened me up to a host of pleasant surprises—turning my experience into something funnier, more memorable, and simply better than expected.

My precious!