The Heavy Stuff

Alright, so Blogger lost my post from yesterday.

I was reeling from a day with a two star general, a Russian photographer, and a Balinese environmentalist. I was also reeling from at least 3 hefty Caipraihnas (how on earth is it spelled) consumed at the opening of Jill Gocher's photographs of Nepal at Ary's Warung.

The festival covered the tough-as-nails/won't-go-away issue of the 2002 bomb in Kuta. It was a senseless act that killed 202 people, more than 80 of which were Indonesians. I believe 21 countries lost citizens in that terrorist crime.

In the beautiful setting of Indus, there were panels on journalistic ethics, police work, and the notion of Bali as spoilt paradise... so much to chew on!

When I wasn't scarfing gourmet food at Indus, I was listening to some of Southeast Asia's published and polished. Most interesting people were George Negus (Aus) and Goenawan Mohamed. There were far too many cliches Monday, so maybe that's out of the system and we can move on for the rest of the week.

Because I am hosting a lunch for the writers tomorrow (in conjunction with Casa Luna), I spent most of my day preparing for that. Cheap wine glasses at Ubud's brand spanking new Bintang Supermarket, painting toilet-this-way signs, and picking up white chairs for the overflow tomorrow.

Had to miss my dear friend Nury Vittachi, whose Tuesday presentation was entitled, How to Write a Novel in 20 Minutes. Nury's Feng Shui Detective books are great fun and catching on in Australia, but he's paid his literary dues. I am indebted to him for editing and publishing about a quarter of my own published works.

Just so it's noted... Woke up to another subtle Ubud dawn, in the gloriously low key Honeymoon guest house. Hit the pasar in time to get several bags full of flowers... cempaka, jepun (that's frangipani), parigata (bougainvillea), and marigolds. Nice breakfast, ran right off to East Bali. Seraya's beaches are looking extra dramatic today after the horizontal lines of rice fields.

The Muezzin has called the faithful to prayer in this mixed city of Amlapura. It is hot, hot, dusty, and hot.

Tonight I zoom back to the festival in time for the English language Wayang Kulit.