On the Road...The Monkey Forest Road

Location:
Indonesia

Bali, motorcycles, photography

By Alexis Hawkins

Bali is probably one of the few places on earth where it is accepted as safe and normal for a young woman to hop on the back of a stranger’s motorcycle to “get a better view of the volcano.” Certainly, the most popular tourist destinations on the island of Bali in the Indonesian Archipelago are of course the beaches and for obvious reasons. Paradisiacal sandy beaches stretch their way around the warm waters of the Indian Ocean, legendary in attracting surfers from around the globe.

Visiting Bali as a photographer, however, I knew that the best way to experience this culture would be off the tour bus and as far away from the coastal resorts completely devoid of this rich culture, still fueled by an enthusiastic devotion to its ancient Hindu gods. I have always felt that the best way to capture the spirit of any place was through its people and for a location as scenically and culturally rich as Bali, I wanted to abandon any ‘spectator on the sidelines’ feel in my pictures.

So when a young man in the town of Ubud, the renowned fine arts village situated in the heart of the island, offered “transport?” beside a shoddy looking motorcycle with the word ‘stone’ carved in the front of it, I abandoned the natural instinct to search for a can of mace brought on from living in South Central Los Angeles and gladly accepted his offer. Thus began my very own small-scale motorcycle diary-like adventure.

In reality, as my photo workshop coordinator had assured me, the transports that stake out every ten feet along the Monkey Forest Road, a mile long stretch of shops and restaurants that snake along a treacherous sidewalk laden with moon-like craters, are in fact safe and the most cost efficient way to explore the island. My driver, Wayan, was actually surprised that I did not haggle the price down from his initial offer of $15 for two hours of riding time.

Wayan and I sped off through heavy traffic, narrowly missing other cars and hundreds of motor scooters, most seating families of four and none wearing helmets. Our speed blurred spectacular scenery on either side of the road making the overall experience of my first ever motorcycle ride a beautiful one in the most jarring way imaginable.

Wayan managed to successfully distract me from the dangers of our joyride, in which we seamlessly weaved through traffic and other road obstacles, such as villagers chopping up a pig in the middle of the road. Discussing the differences in lifestyles between those in Bali and those in America, Wayan asked if I would like to stop and photograph the inside one of the many rice terraces in Ubud on the way toward the still active volcano, Mount Batur.

He also inquired if there were many rice terraces in Los Angeles.

Pulling over by an enormous golden field, I walked toward a scene where a handful of women were working, beating tall grass against wood panels to shake out the grains of rice. Beautiful pictures of these incredible women hard at work presented themselves to me so simply.

As a testament to Balinese hospitality and friendliness, they abolished a traditional exploitative relationship between photographer and subject by treating me like an old friend. They invited and encouraged me to participate in their activity despite our language barrier, which became increasingly difficult in the more rural areas.

I could no longer bear to experience these people and their lifestyle through the filter of a lens, as I put aside my camera and joined in the work, finding myself laughing with each cathartic swing of the grass.

Trekking further through the field I came across the actual rice terraces, lush tiered valleys with tightly packed 6-ft. tall walls of mud. I slipped and crawled deeper and deeper into this valley in awe at a woman and her daughter who were making this journey in half the time while supporting enormous woven baskets on their heads.

Continuing on, we arrived at Mount Batur perfectly during the golden hour when light and shadow expose beautifully as the sky moves toward twilight. This sacred and active volcano sat majestically before the vast Lake Batur, where its mile high peaks pierced through the overcast sky.

While photographing the landscape, though, I soon became the subject of some photos when a Japanese tour bus unloaded about 20 passengers only to take a picture with me. I explained that I was not Balinese, but they didn’t seem to care. So in some international photo album I stand documented on my motorcycle journey.

The motorcycle journeys did not end there at Mount Batur, however, but continued for free with other transports from the Monkey Forest Road. Perhaps because young men there are under such great pressure to marry, or the fact that with my newly dyed black hair, middle eastern descent and relatively pale skin, local men assumed that I was of some very, very high caste Balinese, but either way the motorcycle rides became more frequent and the experiences reached unprecedented levels of surrealism.

The nighttime was soaked in Bir Bintang, a local Heineken product, as well as Balinese wine, which tasted the way that gasoline smells. These experiences left me with such character filled photographs of pizza bars where the unmarried men gathered to play guitar and sing songs. Beyond the pictures, I was also left with the bizarre memory of these men with their thick Balinese accents singing hit songs from western bands like Radiohead and Coldplay.

Other motorcycle joyrides brought me to waterfalls and others brought me to a bar in the rural outskirts of Ubud where a single comically tiny disco ball shed light on the locals going nuts over Shania Twain music videos playing on a travel DVD player at maximum volume.

By the end of these journeys, a man I had known for three days even tattooed my name, which he could hardly pronounce, on his hand as a symbol of his undying love. I began to realize the cultural differences in the male/ female relationship in this culture and obvious differences in perceptions of love, not to mention a better understanding of how these people were dealing with the increasing influence of western pop culture in their society.

Only through these unique encounters with the people of this island, and not the subjects of photographs, did I come to know this place.

Unlike any other travel experience I’d ever had I came to know Bali, not through its mountains or lakes, but through the people who live and own their culture everyday. Breath taking sights and cultural practices are important characteristics to explore of another country and to understand its values, but in a place like Bali where some of the most unique and refreshing aspects of Balinese culture is located in the spirit and overt friendliness of its people, taking photographs of unfamiliar landscapes would just not suffice to say that I had truly seen Bali.

The real adventure lied in the people I met who shared with me a part of their story and as I learned, to really get to know a people, sometimes you just have to hop on.

Further Information

Other helpful information: Definitely experience the beautiful beaches of Bali, but make sure to visit the respective art villages in the center of the island that each specialize in their own craft. Here is where you will find the most culture, including authentic Balinese Kecak dance shows and other performances such as shadow puppet theatre.

Must see/do at this place: You must attend a Kecak dance, a dramatic dance representing Prince Rama's rescue of Princess Sita from the Hindu epic Ramayana. With an all male chorus providing the sounds an movements around the dancers, fire walking, and brilliant costumes, the Kecak dance is performed often and performances are usually advertised throughout the streets.

You should avoid here: Avoid paying the first price for anything. Nothing is marked with a price tag for a reason. Customers are expected to haggle prices and while some tourists don't mind paying extra because of the poor lifestyles of the locals, the merchants actually respect a good bargainer and think less of those who settle for full price.