Bali

After the five weeks of brutal travel through Sumatra, My appreciation for Bali was magnified as if looking through a brand new lens. I was able to look past the tourism, overdevelopment, and crowded surf on this island of 3 million people. The Hindu culture of Bali makes “The Island of the Gods” a truly magical place. The Hindu temples, the architecture, the daily offerings to the gods and evil spirits alike, the good nature of its people, and the awe inspiring surf, come together to make Bali one of the most unique islands in the world. Sadly, outside forces have infiltrated this island paradise with their cowardly terrorist attacks, spreading fear and thus crippling the tourism based economy, and ultimately the livelihood of the Balinese people.

* 2002 Bali Bombing
Kuta Beach
October 2006

Our first week was spent in Kuta Beach; a place infamous for its hedonistic lowbrow nightlife, made notorious by the 2002 Bali bombing. "Karl we're so happy that you are finally in Bali," exclaimed my mom over the crackling Wartel phone connection. Obviously thrilled that Adam and I were out of Muslim Sumatra, I didn't have the heart to tell her that we were probably safer in Banda Aceh than in Kuta Beach. The 2002 terrorist attacks at the Sari Club and Paddies Bar had occurred 3 weeks after I departed from Bali that same year. Walking down the main strip of Jalan Legion, it looked as though the atrocity might never have taken place, a nightmare long forgotten. It took the memorial to bring it back home.

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Looking like a mini version of the Vietnam Memorial in Washington DC, the Bali Bombing memorial brought tears to my eyes. Each of the victims names were etched into the wall grouped by country. The flags of each nation swayed in the south east trade wind, as if trying to speak for their lost children. The sad irony was that the majority of casualties were Indonesian (followed by Australian). Only two victims were from America, the intended target.
The fact that a suicide bomber blew himself up at Jimbaran beach in October of 2005 didn't make us feel any safer in Bali. It was October after all (October had become known as "terrorist season" in Bali), and world terrorism seemed alive and well. There was only one thing we could do; keep an eye out for nervous sweating men wearing bulky vests, and vans riding low and overweight. There were some nights when I decided to go home early, and I couldn't help but wonder if I might hear bombs go off while safe in my hotel. Like when people miss their flight and later they find out the airplane had crashed and burned without them. In the end I figured my number's up when it's up, and did my best to put my fears aside. Besides, I probably had a better chance of crashing on my scooter than being a bomb victim.


Based in Kuta, our surfing involved renting scooters with surf racks and making the mad trek to the Bukit Peninsula. Our first day I led the charge and Adam followed. If he made it to Uluwatu and back without a scratch, he was ready for anything Bali could throw at him. Through the Kuta gauntlet of narrow one way streets, in and out of Denpasar traffic, riding on the left side of the road, families of four on scooters passing us like we were standing still, up the steep hill and hairpin turn, and past the Korupsi Police Shack, we made it to Uluwatu without a scratch.
Bali's most famous surf spot was 6-8 foot and clean with only six guys out (what??). We were straight out through the cave and out into the line-up. I dialed myself into the cleanest and greenest wave of the trip. Beautifully backlit from the dropping sun, its perfection was my welcome back to Bali.

Dinner Party, Japanese style
Back at our hotel Adam and I enjoyed a whiskey on the rocks (we fantasized about this moment while in Aceh) when we met Don and Mune. Don was a surfboard manufacturer from O-Ah-OOO (Oahu), and Mune was president of Channel Islands Surfboards in Japan. These guys had been coming to Bali for like 20 years and had the place completely dialed. Mune turned us on to the spots on the east coast of the island, and on several early mornings we scored some absolutely incredible right handers with only a handful of people. It just goes to show that even at some of the world's most crowded surf destinations, if you know where to be and when, you can score. But that knowledge takes years to acquire, and I'm very thankful to Mune for showing us the ropes in Bali.



The Korupsi Shack
We would run the daily gauntlet from Kuta to Uluwatu passing the police station on the way there and back. It was all about timing. Sometime during the day, the police would decide to set up a checkpoint and pull over anyone, especially surfers, intent on taking bribes. Fortunately for us, our luck was on and we were never "fined" for lack of an international driver’s licence or whatever else the Polisi could muster up. Our Balinese friend Won, who toured us around with our Japanese friend Mune, wasn’t so lucky. The polisi pulled us over and taxed him for not having a "tour guide" permit. He had to pay 50,000 Rupiah, which equals the daily age for the average Balinese worker.
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One afternoon back in Kuta, I had to run my passport over to Bobby's surf camp office which was located about six blocks away. Due to the short distance I decided to go without my helmet and international licence (which I lacked anyhow). On the way back I was routed down one way street where, at the intersection, sat a small shack on the corner. On the front was stencilled "Polisi" in block letters, inside I saw the silhouette of two figures in uniform.
He spotted me a mile away, no helmet, blond hair, surf rack on the side of my motorcycle; easy money. I mumbled obscenities as I was forced to pull over into the lion's den. They told me to turn off my bike and motioned me to come inside of the building.
Knowing what to expect, I entered with a smile on my face and my game ready. The older of the two Balinese officers sat towards the back, with a very serious expression on his face. The younger of the two did all of the talking. He asked for my international licence which I lacked, and informed me that I had two infractions; no licence and no helmet. I also had two choices; take care of the fine here and now, or go to the courthouse in Dempasar. Keeping my good composure and maintaining my smile I asked him how much it would cost to pay the fine now and he replied 200,000 Rupiah (US$20).
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The normal payoff for a traffic fine in Bali never exceeds 50,000 Rupiah and there was no way in hell I was going to pay 20,000. I had to think fast, take my time, and use my Korupsi Communication Skills (KCS) that I have learned over the years.
I had a small amount of Rupiah in my pocket (60,000) which I carried for such occasions. I also had 500,000 stashed in a secret pocket and my passport. I weighed my options and developed a plan. It was sort of like a game of chess.
My first move was unwise. I explained that I didn’t have my helmet or my licence because I was on a quick ride to bring my passport to Bobbies Surf Camp office. I also told them that I only had 69,000 in my pocket and this was all that I could pay them.
With a smile the officer grabbed my passport and looked it over. "I will hold on to your passport. You go back to your hotel to get your license and 200,000 Rupiah."
Now I was screwed. Never give a Korupsi cop your identification (I had noticed that when people in Indonesia show a cop their licence or paperwork, they hold on to it tightly as the cop looks it over). I had to revise my plan. I couldn’t let him have my passport. No way. But if I pulled the rest of the money out of my stash pocket to try and pay him the 200,000 he wanted, he would take the remainder as well. Then it came to me.
*Anti-korupsi poster
First I informed him that it was not possible for me to leave my passport with him since it was a legal document belonging to the United States Government and it was actually illegal for me to surrender it to a foreign diplomat. Second, I attempted to renegotiate the bribe. I explained that the average fine in Bali was 50,000 Rupiah; 50,000 X 2 infractions=100,000 Rupiah, not 200,000. I then added, "You’re a good person, I'm a good person, it's a beautiful day outside, let's say you let me off with 69,000?"
He was smiling now and I started to feel like I might pull it off.
"You must speak to my commanding officer," he replied.
"Shit," I thought to myself. For the past 20 minutes the man sat in the corner without saying a word, maintaining a look on his face more serious than the answer to HIV. I repeated my offer and he replied that he would take 80,000.
My next move was risky, but it was all I had. Since I couldn't pull money out of my stash pocket I told them that I had an ATM card (which I didn't). "Let me go to the ATM machine and I'll have your 80,000 but I'm going to need my passport back." Amazingly he handed over my passport, but held on to the motorcycle registration.
I walked down the street to a corner store. Once inside I bought an ice cream in order to break a 50,000 note. I put together a wad of 80,000 Rupiah and carefully stashed the rest in my secret pocket. I walked back to the Korupsi Shack and entered with my half eaten ice cream. I handed over the money to the boss man who still looked as serious as sin. "What about the rest of the money?" he inquired.
Doing my best not to smile I replied, "I spent it on ice cream."
They knew that I was full of shit, but they both started laughing. Checkmate! (Well not exactly since I still had to fork out 80,000 Rupiah, but it was better than paying 200,000).
After giving me a short lecture on the dangers of not wearing a helmet, they handed over the bike registration and I was on my way.

Tips for Successful Korupsi Cop Negotiation
1. Always keep a pocket full of small bills
2. Keep your composure
3. Smile and use good humor
4. Use terms of respect i.e., Mr. Officer, sir
5. Try and make the cop laugh
6. Make it obvious you know the drill
7. Patience, patience, and more patience
8. If they don’t respond with good humor or a smile,
just pay the man what he wants and get the hell out of there!

Ok all you Hip Hop fans, take it back to '89, and pull out KRS-1's all time classic "Black Cop". Now drop the beat and replace words with my lyrical rendition:
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Korupsi Cop

Indo Cop
Indo Cop-Indo Cop-Indo Cop
For robbing poor people
you are going to drop
You don't even get paid a whole lot
That's why poor people pay fine on spot

Take your M16-put it on lock!
Take my passport and put it on lock!
Looking for Bule when you walk down a block

Here in Indo you have the cop shack
If you pass by you gonna catch flak
They gonna tax you and search your pack


They're posted up on a Kuta block,
They're posted up on an Aceh block
In Kupang they getcha for your boards on top
See 'em lurking at the ferry dock
Ready for you with they're gun pon cock

Indo cop
Indo Cop-Indo Cop-Indo Cop

30 years ago, there were no Korupsi cops
They fought crime and
put honesty on top

Recently they turned greedy
Now they get rich off the poor and needy
Tourist you better take heed


Well after a week of Bali madness it was time for a vacation from our vacation. We were off to G-Land on the island of Java. Located in Alas Purwo National Park on Java's south eastern tip, G-land tops as one of the world's favorite destinations for traveling surfers.




*Denotes stock images utilized from internet (with permission of course).