Indonesia: Bali (Day 3 Cont'd, Wednesday, 072909)

$65 for a last minute Garuda Airlines flight from Surabaya, Java, Indonesia to Denpasar, Bali.

(Interesting factoid: Garuda is the mythical bird that Vishnu rides, found in Hindu and Buddhist cosmology.)

I think I'm scammed out of 5 USD on my way to my gate, when a guy tells me I have to pay for "flight health insurance." He's sitting in a booth with another uniformed dude, but I'm less than convinced when I don't get any form/ticket/slip documenting this exchange of money; my flight's in final boarding, so I hand it over.

The boxed lunch/snack includes one of those Asian jelly/gel/jello food-like substances with small cubes of "coconut" (wow, it actually is coconut, specifically nata de coco), which I, using the tiny and unwieldy plastic spoon provided with it, slurp down messily and clumsily as I sit between 1) overweight, sweaty, sleeping Indonesian dude to my left and 2) slim, hairless, nervous at having to sit next to wide-eyed, bat-shit crazy English-speaking Chinese girl, Indonesian dude to my right. He helpfully tells the stewardess to give me an English-language newspaper when she offers me an Indonesian one.

This, after I ineffectually attempt to ask him how long it'll take to get to Bali. Speak English, goddamnit! I am in your country and you should be able to communicate with me. Memememememe.

(When it comes to the jello snack, I can probably down the thing in a single gulp, but I eat it decorously with the utensil so as not to be perceived to be the unseemly slut of an American whore that I am.)

It's 65,000 Rupiah for a ride from the airport to Seminyak.

Conversion is about 10,000 RP to the dollar, and, should you have any interest in going to Indonesia, they 1) give you a better rate for large American bills, but 2) frequently seem unable to make change for bills larger than 20,000 RP (2 bucks).

I've a distinct feeling that the cabbie does not like me. The LP about Indonesia, while not always accurate, is usually pretty on the mark with regards to describing cultural norms, and the Balinese are supposed to be super talkative and friendly.

The majority of our conversation focuses on my protesting that I'm just a poor public school teacher and his observing that while I am able to visit his country, he cannot do the same with mine. Touche.

So the cabbie is oppressed by me, and I'm oppressed by his oppression. And he doesn't know where Inada Losmen, #9, Gang Bima (cryptoanalysis: Losmen = family-owned, home-stay style accomodations, usually very cheap, Gang = street, Inada because family/owners are Japanese) is located, and says we'll have to call.

I ask him if he has a cell phone, and he responds that I'll have to pay extra.

[sigh]

Somehow, it doesn't seem too farfetched to expect that a cabbie should be able to locate a destination without the passenger having to pay additional for a phone call to find said destination that he should be able to locate, but whatever.

We make it, and he asks for 15,000 RP, and I give him 20. It's the first time he smiles.

Yes, I will pay you to like me, comparatively much more-oppressed person.