The Story of Bali in 1973

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If you want to have the complete story e-book,please registered to be an uniquecollections member via comment, the editor will contact you and after the administration procedure OK,the-ebook will send to you via your e-mail. look and read below the sample of the e-book.THE LATEST REGISTRATION AUGUST 1ST 2010 for the e-book issued between january to july 2010.

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                                                    THE SAMPLE OF Dr IWAN S E-BOOK

                                                             THE  STORY OF BALI IN 1973

                               Compile from vintage book and the native Balinese Folklore

                                                            during The author visit Bali 1973

                                                                 

                                                                                    BY

                                                                             Dr IWAN S

                                                                     

                                                      Private E-Book Special for Collectors

                                                                     Jakarta 2010

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PREFACE

THE E-BOOK DEDICATED TO MY FRIEND ISNP.GENERAL MADE MANGKU ,GOUVERNOR OF BALI AND BRIG.GEN. Dr MUSADEQ THE CHIEF OF CENTRAL MEDICAL AND HEALTH OF INDONESIA NATIONAL POLICE. GEN.MANGKU BALINESE WHICH EVER ON THE SAME DUTY WITH ME IN TIMOR 1999 AND ALSO GEN.MUSADEG JOIN WITH ME AT THAT DUTY AND HE EVER BE THE CHIEF OF MEDICAL AND HEALT INDONESIA NATIONAL POLICE OF BALI PROVINCE.

This story based my own visit Bali in the same year,and several visit after that, added with thevintage scienece fictions bali book and illustration with my  related  Bali unique collections  which found in Bali and Jakarta.

                                            

the author

Dr IWAN S.

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CHAPTER I

                          

It was late evening when theplane landed at the International Airport south of Denpasar, after flying from Jakarta over the terraced paddy fields,plam trees ,a nd thatched building,when my first foot landed at Bali Island I fill very peace in my heart, and after that  I headed for the wide glass doorsm that led outside into the golden evening light and a road where I could see hire cars and small knocked-about vehicles that looke like miniature buses, I thought”Plenty of transport’ .

                                                                 

The very nex minute I wits were scattered as I wam beseiged by half a dozen Balinese, all beseeching, “Tuan-you take my taxi to Denpasar?’ Bewildered, I  exclaimed ,’Kuta Beach!’ Then matters became worse than ever.Plenty of transport! Ceternainly all the drivers were eager to take me to Kuta Beach, and they all wanted to charge me a different fare and I simply had no idea what to do.  I stammered’To Kuta Beach, I’m not sure exactly where -to a losmen,whatever that is ,called Rumah Made’

                                                              

His house , over the wall I could see thatched roofs and the tapering pagoda shapes of shrines, and suddenly i felt nervous. I went uncertainly through the gate way and around a projecting wall,which I learned later served the prupose of baffling evil spirits-who hat difficulty in negotiating corner!  A brushed dirth part between houses with wall made of woven cane, and glassless windows, led towards a flower garden. and beyond that I could see a cream-washed stone bungalow with green shutters. On the verandah were bambooo chairs and atable with an oil lamp standing on it, not yet lit, for there was still light in the sky. His name was Made.

You’ll find that various relatives of Made’s live in these houses  and help with the gardening, the cooking, the laundering, and so on. That’s your losmen with the varandah, and your fellow- gueat will probably be young Europeans looking for a cheap holiday. If you find it too rough- and I rather think you may-then you must find it too rough- and I rather think you may-then you must move out. I take it it your friend stays here?’.

There was only the man on the varandah and a couple of small barefooted brown children running across the path. And avery old man came through a side gate from the road, carrying a beautiful wicker cage that held a spendid white cock.

                                                           

                      I would find Made and explain who am I and what I wanted.

                                                   

 ‘Selamat datang (welcome)’ You are Mr Iwan, I am Made.I have room for you. You come see it?’ ‘Thank you’ said I. I follow Made who picked up a lamp from somewhere into a simple white-walled room  with yellow tiles cupboard, a table, a chair, a narrow bed covered only with a sheet. An unglazed window with a wooden shutter locked over a low wall into a courtyard where thatch-roofed shrined made ghostly shadow amongs fruit trees and banana palms.

 I said :’it’s is very nice and so clean’ ‘ Very clean’, agreed Made softly’ I show you washroom’. The washroom was at the end of the varandah. It contained a buil-in trough of sparkling clear water, and there wa ascoop which one used when one wished to take a bath.’Spring water’, said Made.’Very good’. ‘Yes, it looks lovely’, Agrred ne.’You will eat in rumah (house)?’ ‘Yes,thank you’. Made,satisfied, padded away,and some one of the guest there said to me’ You must learn to say no in Bali’.  ‘ I didn’t want to say no’ Said me.

I WAS WAKENED VERY EARLY IN THE MORNING BY THE SOUND OF COCKS CROWING IN THE YEARD BEHIND THE LOSMEN.  I LAY FOR AWHILE LISTENING AND TRYING TO ORIENTATE MY SELF, THEN GOT OUT OF BED AND WENT BAREFOOTED ACROSS THE YELLOW UNGLAZED TILES TO LOOK AT THE MORNING. pointsettias and hsibiscus already showed burningly bright in the early sunlight, and the air that drifted through the window was decidedly hot. Made , in sarong and blouse, crossed the yard carrying a sall offering of yellow merigold made into a decorative arrangement, and paused before one of the shrine where the similar offerings had already been laid. The banana  palms look cool and green, and in their shade were several the big cane cages like the one I had seen holding  the white cock.

                                                         

That afternoon, after lunching at Made’s restaurant, I went to Denpasar. I walked up the pretty road   from the losmen,past the stalls where the batiks and painting were sold,

                                                     

 and at the crossroads , I hailed a bemo-a three-wheeled utulity truck with a covered back in which were two seats facing each other , and able to hold eight people in all.

                                             

The conducter was a small Balinese boy of perhaps ten, who shouted out to the driver or rapped on the windows when he jugded it was time  to get moving again.

I didn’t know what the others intended to do in Denpasar  , but I planned to look in the antique shop.

  

Meanwhile I was entertained by the people who clambered in and out of the bemo,particulary a slim slight women with two enormous bag of rice and three pretty Balinese grls wearing their best sarongs who had sweet-scented lower in thei hair.They were quite exquisute with their pale brown skin and limpid  dark eyes, and I felt myself insipid and yellow-brown beside them.

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The end of e-book sample @copyright Dr IWAN S 2010.

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