Road Trip: Indonesia (Part 2)

(Continued from Road Trip: Indonesia (Part 1))...

See no evil, Hear no evil, Speak no evil

Christian is the easy going, fearless, adventurer in the group. Fishing and surfing on the North Sea is in his blood and he reminds me of Beowulf for some odd reason.  He is the type of guy who can blend into any environment and will strike up a conversation with ANYONE. Of all his traits, his "anything is possible" attitude is what I'm most envious of . He actually caught a local bus to the slums of Jakarta to just “walk around” because he had read so much about the poverty there and he wanted to see it for himself. “Are you nuts?!” I asked. “It’s no problem,” is his typical reply in German accented English. I want to be him one day.

Sailboats? Really? lol

In the meantime, I’m so American to him and it keeps him in stitches. He hasn’t been to the U.S yet and his friends tell him stories of people riding on electrical motor carts in the grocery stores and he can’t believe it! I try to explain that they are for elderly, handicapped or obese people, but obese Americans using electrical carts in grocery stores is beyond ridiculous to him. So, when I’m listening to beach waves on my computer while relaxing in bed under the fan, he can’t help to laugh because I’m a block from the actual beach and I could sleep there in the sand. “It’s WAY too hot today for that and there are mosquitoes everywhere,” I reply. So American… He promises to take me deep sea fishing when I get to Germany and I think I may take him to the grocery store so that he can ride an electrical cart, when he comes to NY.

Deep in thought...

Richard is the Yin to Christian’s Yang and I often wonder how they managed to stay friends for so long. “We balance each other,” Richard tells me. Where Christian is “Drink more, talk less!” (his other favorite saying), Richard is very contemplative and philosophical and we talk a lot. We talk about love, life, culture, and everything in between. His full name is Richard Guerra and when he reminds me that Guerra means "war" in Spanish and I tell him that Richard is synonymous with Dick in the U.S.; he laughs heartily, when I began calling him Dick War. “You’re hanging out with Christian Kruse and Dick War!”

Richard is Latin and passionate and it is reflected in his music. He makes girls swoon all over Bali whenever he decides to randomly serenade people around us with his guitar or hop on stage and join the local band. “I can’t believe I met the lead singer of ChupaCabras, can you sign this,” tourists who recognize his band ask as we travel. A Peruvian, living in Germany for the last 15 years, his fluid switches between Spanish, German and English really takes people for a loop when he’s singing and rapping. His music is wonderful, but more importantly, he is kind and I find myself sighing when he stands and offers his seat to a lady standing on the bus, saying “I cannot watch this.” He promises to take me salsa dancing when I get to Germany and I’m writing this down so that they can remember!

  

Richard signing autographs

Over the next four days, we make our way across Bali shopping, eating and talking. No stone is left unturned and I simply adore these guys. We drive through and stop at temples, stores and beaches in Singaraja, Sembiran, Ahmed, Amlapura all the way to Ubud. With the Adventurer in front with me, we often come across something and I’ll say, “Did you see that?” Christian’s reply often mirrors my enthusiasm, “We have to go do that! Turn around!” Richard, the Philosopher, goes along with our mayhem, but will often show us what we are missing. Hiking towards the highest waterfall in Bali, he says “Look around for a minute. These mountains can make all problems seem small.” He’s right.

 

Ubud is our last stop together as they are headed deeper in Indonesia over the next month and I am headed to India. Once in Ubud, we go to the Monkey Sanctuary. I’m scared of monkeys (period.com), but I go anyway praying that I don’t get scratched; that’s an instant trip to the hospital! The Monkey Sanctuary is packed full of wild monkeys roaming freely around tourist. It's an incredible place to just sit and watch the action or monkey drama.  We have a ball there and start searching for accommodations immedialy afterwards. We settle on a guesthouse that can accommodate the three of us, check in and like every night we head out on the town to listen to music and chill.

Ubud is chocked full of western tourists and is nothing like the authenticity we had encountered earlier in our drive. Also, the city basically shuts down early after dark. I was aware of this as the draw in this town is the artist community that has gathered there, but the guys were pretty disappointed in this part of Bali. Ubud is more like a Banana Republic edition of hippie Berkeley, California. Since our choices for nightlife were limited, we made due in celebration of the end of our road trip by heading to the grocery store for Bingtang like college kids.

 

Drink more, Talk less

Richard who is a vegetarian and doesn’t drink alcohol either, has had to be flexible with his diet in Indonesia since vegetarianism isn’t a major priority everywhere. Since he had already crossed the line a few times, he decided he would drink a Bingtang tonight too. Two beers later and the night was over! A drunken naturalist is the funniest thing you will ever encounter, hands down. Richard was the entertainment for the night and we laughed forever. We went back to the guest house and settled into a bitter sweet routine of getting ready for the next day, our last day.

And this is where things got hectic…

Kiss!

After Christian ran out of the room, I sat up and went outside to try to gauge the situation. Richard wasn’t on the veranda, where he had gone to write earlier, but the night assistant for the inn, a tiny Balinese woman, was standing there. The Guest house is setup like a compound of individual rooms with exterior entrances all facing a courtyard that contains the family temple and a beautiful garden. Christian, who was near the garden looking up at the second floor of rooms, finally turned to the assistant and speaking in English, told her to call the Police. “It’s too early, no one is available. They won’t come,” she replied. Sometimes there’s a point when traveling when you realize that you REALLY are in another country; this was one of those moments. The look on Christian’s face when she said that was the exact sentiment in my head. “TOO EARLY?! THE POLICE?! WTF?!”

All of sudden it sounded like someone was taking out a wall with a sledge hammer. Christian ran up the stairs and I ran back into the room to put shoes on. I’m not a fighter! I have never been in a fight in my life, but know firsthand how violence can escalate and within a fraction of a second lives can be altered. I was scared out of my mind and worried for these guys, especially since I had no clue what was going on, none us of were in our home country and apparently the police weren’t available. MADNESS! I came barreling out of the room, looked up to the second floor and Christian was holding Richard back and Richard was cursing like crazy. The next voice I heard was female and she was saying in a heavily Asian accented voice, “He’s trying to kill me!”

Richard would never lay a hand on a woman! This didn’t make sense, I thought.

Upon hearing the woman, Richard said in English, “Then leave your husband tonight! This is your life, your health! We will stay so he can’t follow you!”

For me, the context of their conversation clicked immediately...

“I have no money! I cannot leave him,” she shouted back in anguish.

Suddenly a German accented voice in a room that I could not see into said, “She is not my wife!” and then continued shouting in German. I’m not sure what he said, but Richard was trying desperately to get back in that room and holding him back, Christian’s face took on this serious look. Pointing his finger at the man and in a tone I had yet to hear him use, he said something in German so ill that every man up there was suddenly quiet. It was eerie…

Finally, the owner of the building arrived and she headed directly to me. “What is happening? Is it safe for me to go up there?”

“Lady, I have no clue! It’s quiet now, so you should go ask.”

Only Richard and I laughed at this sign; the German didn't get it.

She’s scary like me, so she waited for Christian and Richard to come downstairs to explain what was happening. When they finally came into the room, Richard had blood on his shirt and the look in his eyes broke my heart! Apparently, he had been writing and when he heard the man upstairs beating and kicking a screaming female, he reacted. People had come out of their room, but he was the only one to race upstairs and open the door. When he opened the door there was blood all over the woman and all over the floor. Yelling, Richard pulled the man off of the woman and the man beating her said with a thick German accent that the woman had bit him. Realizing that this man was also German and according to Richard, “should know better than to hit a woman,” Richard began telling him off in German. When the man made an attempt to get the woman again, Richard had had enough.

Men in skirts!!

If still waters run deep, then Richard is the middle of the Atlantic. That sledgehammer sound I heard earlier was Richard opening up a can on that man, right before Christian pulled him off. “I have never seen him like that,” Christian said with a little pride and puffed up chest (Way too much testosterone floating around...). Running to do the right thing, regardless of the consequences is exactly who Richard is; this is his character. Loyally protecting his friends and shutting the whole thing down with scary ass intensity is exactly who Christian is. They fit; the priest and the mob.

The man and the woman were kicked out of the guesthouse and the man went past our room telling Richard and Christian that he would be back for them in the morning. He said this in German and I didn't see them as they passed by, but when Christian told me what he said in English, it was a wrap! I’m ready to go! Now! They looked at me like I was retarded.

“It’s too early and you have a long drive tomorrow by yourself. You need to rest,” Richard said. “We will leave early, but you are safe here,” Christian said as he went to change the locks on the door, “It’s no problem.” Richard changed his clothes, they turned off the lights and they went to bed. Really?? I did not sleep a wink! I am not a fighter!! I sat in bed listening for heavy footsteps, biting my nails and rocking like Miss Sophia. I kept expecting a big, wild looking German man to bust through the doors like Karl in Die Hard. Every time I heard something and got up to check, one or both of them would wake up and say, “Go to sleep. You are safe.” I bet they wished they had never told me what that man said.

Temple entrances are so ornate.

Around 6 am, I figured that the guest house staff was there and I could leave the room and go use the internet to call my husband. I unpacked my laptop, unlocked the door and headed towards the main house where the wifi signal is. It was still dark, but if the staff was there I figured I’d be fine. I turned the corner and at the entrance to the courtyard, standing under a light was the beat up chick! She looked like that movie “Carrie”, with all the dried blood on her face and clothes and she just stood there and then awkwardly said, “Hi." I didn’t even respond! I could have given Usain Bolt a run for his money as I high tailed it back to that room. I busted through the door, re locked it, pulled out every doorstop I packed and slid it under that door! Seriously, I am not a fighter!

The first person to wake up was Richard! “What is going on?”

“The beat up chick just scared me. She’s standing there with luggage,” I said.

“You’re safe here. It’s no problem.” was all Christian said in a groggy voice before they both went back to sleep. REALLY?? This is a MF problem!

Here’s the thing, they know how to protect themselves, so when faced with situations like this it doesn’t scare them. I, on the other hand, can only swing wild, uncontrolled, windmill punches, scream like a banshee, and run. I’m scared.

Way too much testosterone floating around!

When morning finally arrived, I made it to the main house and immediately skyped Chad. My husband is fighter too, so he likes Christian and Richard, but as he signed out he said, “You’ll be fine with them. Besides, Indonesia don’t want no real N-words to come over there!” (Way too much testosterone floathing around...) I ended up calling my mom and chatting with my brother on Facebook too! Just in case I came up missing in Indonesia, I needed people to know what happened! I stayed in that house for so long talking to people, that the inn keeper finally came over and said that the gentlemen were waiting on me to have breakfast. I do believe that I’d rather eat out of a garbage can on the other side of town, than stay here even one second longer, but I head back for breakfast anyway.

When I get back to the veranda where breakfast is being served, the guys are more worried about me not sleeping than the potential of a man coming back for them. They actually look so relaxed that I start wondering if I was being uptight. If Richard would run into a room to protect a woman he’s never met, then I couldn’t imagine what would happen if I were in danger.

Over breakfast we begin dissecting the night and I realize three things:

1) Like most men, they left out details that would have saved me from a nightmarish night. For example, I wish they had told me that the man was pobably 5' 2", clearly overweight and ridiculously inebriated.  REALLY?! I was looking for Karl and you guys were beating up Tattoo! I could have slept!

2) These are good guys and I’ve made some lifelong friends

but...

3) I’m definitely too old for their hijinks...