The Terrific3 travel blog

It was quite a day. I texted wayan from Bali inspirations yesterday to verify our pick up time and he did. Then this morning I texted again telling him to let me know if he arrives before 815am as we were ready. That’s when he told me, sorry, it’s not him, it’s his friend “Juice” picking us up and he’s already here. He couldn’t come as he needed to get ready for the big festival in 2 days. Now mind you, when we booked the tour, we asked which day was best for him and he said not Monday as it was too close to the festival, so Sunday. So fine, now we have Juice. Juice was pleasant enough except he only brought one bottle of water for each of us for a 5 hour tour that included time out on the water. No problem, I went back and got more water from our villa.

We drive an hour to Padang bay where the snorkeling is. Juice doesn’t know much about details of what we are doing as he is “just the driver,” so can’t answer my questions, but otherwise is quite pleasant. When we arrive, it’s a bit chaotic as he doesn’t know where to park and he is calling Wayan to figure it out. Meanwhile, S is changing into swim clothes in the trunk of his SUV and I’m helping Z put on sunblock. The “guide” for snorkeling approaches us, there are cars passing us by on a tight road, and so I close Z’s door, except his foot is in the door, and he is in tears. Luckily no broken bones, but I felt terrible. I get the kids out of the car and the “guide,” who hasn’t so much as introduced himself by name or asked ours (something people generally do here) asks us to follow him to his building. Except he’s walking fast ahead, in the middle of the road, winding through traffic and cars, and I’m far behind with 2 kids who I don’t want hit by a car in Bali. He doesn’t so much as look back to make sure we are with him. Not a good first impression.

We get to a restaurant, and his snorkeling operation is run out of the front of this building. He gets everyone into somewhat crappy life vests and fits our masks and immediately starts trying to sell me a water camera for 500,000 IDR (equivalent of $35, so not cheap). But his English is so bad, his communication style so terrible, and his manner so rough, he can’t explain the details. 3 cameras for 500? What about photos? Oh, pay 500 extra for those? Each one or together? He is unable to communicate with me so I decline the whole offer and so then he goes down to 400, which frustrates me even more, as I came here to snorkel, not bargain over water cameras. Then… he says, you have 2 kids, do you need a guide in the water. I tell him my understanding was the boat had a captain and a guide and that’s what I already paid Juice for (1.5 million, $99USD), including his transportation. This guy says no, it’s 200 extra, and tries to rush me to get going as “the captain is ready.” Of course I don’t want my 2 snorkel naive kids to snorkel alone, and I want an extra adult in the water. I text both Juice and Wayan and Juice responds that my arrangement is with Wayan. I call Wayan and he doesn’t answer, so I pay the extra 200 and text Wayan I did that. Wayan calls the unfriendly guide we are with and then texts me and tells me Juice will refund us later. Fine.

We follow Mr Unfriendly to the beach, again, a hurried walk, not really helpful in navigating walking through the traffic there. He tells us at some point that we’ll meet the captain and then the guide joins later. Unable to answer my questions about this. We get to the boat, he introduces me to the captain and says, “the captain is also your guide. He is a good guide.” So I have all kinds of questions about this. How is he going to do both? If he’s in the water, what’s happening with the boat? Didn’t we pay for an extra person? Mr Unfriendly doesn’t seem like he’s interested in answering my questions and starts to mansplain me, and when I ask more, he grabs my arm with his hand to move me to the boat and try to reassure me. “Don’t touch me!” I tell him and he lets go and kind of apologizes. And we get on the boat with the lovely captain.

Captain then takes us 10 minute long boat ride to snorkel spot, which he explains is spot number 1 and then there’ll be a second. He helps me get mask on and get into water and try the mask. But…I panic in open water, especially with a claustrophobic mask on my face, and I’m having a hard time and the kids are wanting to go in. So I come back to the boat and the kids go on. Then me, slowly. I had somehow forgotten that I don’t really like snorkeling—the open water, the bouncy waves causing nausea, the claustrophobia inducing mask, the taste of salt in my mouth…it’s all a bit too much sensory overload. But I put my face in the water and look at the fish and corals, as it’s gorgeous down there.

Z was the only one who didn’t really want to snorkel but he got out there and got the hang of it and enjoyed himself. S kept asking for a toilet to pee in and was unable to pee in the ocean; he also kept getting mad at his brother when his brother touched him while swimming, so between my sensory overload, the whining and complaining from S, and my growing nausea from the waves, I was not feeling good. At some point, I got back onto the boat and decided to just wait out the nausea and do an internal meditation so as to allow the kids to finish.

We get to spot number 2 and it’s even wavier. The boat is rocking back and forth and I’m feeling sick so I don’t get in water. After a somewhat stern talk with S about him having choices over his emotions and experience, he gets in the water with Z and both boys experience the underwater world with our captain while I vomit off the side of the boat.

We get back to shore 2 hours after we started and Mr Unfriendly is waiting on shore with us and walks us back to the restaurant, and then leaves us to shower and dress while he deals with the next round of customers. Thankfully I had gotten Juice’s WhatsApp number so I contacted him that we were ready to go and he picks us up, gives me the refund, and apologizes for the issues. We drive over an hour home on somewhat windy and bumpy roads and I can’t wait to get back as my nausea has not abated.

We finally return home, and Z has so much energy still that he jumps into the pool. I make the kids lunch (gnocchi with pesto that I had bought in Thailand and never cooked, so transported here) and heat mine up (leftover Indian food). Z tells me he had so much fun snorkeling and he can’t wait to do it again. I deem it an activity worth doing despite my seasickness as that’s what moms do for their kids, right? A little bit of suffering and sacrifice? Though I’m not sure I’ll want to snorkel again anytime soon. I’ve snorkeled 3 times and 2 out of the 3, I’ve gotten sick..,, time will tell if the memory fades.

Mr Unfriendly highlighted to me again, the general vibe of the natives towards foreigners. We are essential to their economy, and a source of endless money; therefore, on different scales and at different levels of intensity and with different levels of friendliness, the goal is to extract money. A bottle of water costs more for me than a native. So does a meal at a local restaurant. So do all entry fees to temples and other attractions. It’s just the foundation of their general beliefs here. As our driver Bawa who took us to Uluwatu temple told us, he knows we make “a lot of money” in our respective countries, and that money goes far here. I suspect some of this attitude of extortion (whether it be outright or implicit) is related to the general corruption of the government here. People take bribes and get paid off; money goes into deep pockets of government officials instead of to the people, the roads, the infrastructure. They don’t even have public schools here, and school is also not mandated (this is different then Thailand). One of our drivers tells me he pays $2 million IDR ($132) annually for his kid’s school, plus 100,000 a month ($6.67). I’m sure that for some people, that’s a lot.

Anyways, to summarize my story, I’m still not fond of Bali. Due to the chaos this morning and my nausea, I didn’t take any photos. The only one we took is above, and I made Mr Unfriendly take that as he was trying to take a photo of my kids with his phone without asking me. I gave him mine and asked him to take one and then asked him to not take a photo on his as he didn’t have my permission. He did comply, though I suspect it was hard for him to take direction from another woman of color. When I travel to countries like Indonesia or India, I feel like I’m definitely treated differently than the white women. The color of my skin makes me closer in “class” to the natives and I’m treated with less respect. Combine that with the fact that I’m a single parent and I don’t have a husband to “protect” me, and I truly believe that plays into what I’m experiencing here.

Before I came to Bali, it was top of my bucket list—I imagined it as a gorgeous island paradise full of spiritualism, meditation, yoga, and kind and lovely people. By now, it’s clear to all of us that this was a fantasy. I googled “why I don’t like Bali” today and came upon dozens of blog posts by surprised travelers like me mentioning the same issues—too many tourists, too much traffic, too much trash, too many con artists and scammers, too much corruption, an island in disrepair. When you look at photos of Bali online, everyone just posts the beautiful Instagram worthy places; however, that is not the real Bali. That having been said, I’m going to start taking some photos of the real Bali, so I’m not one of those people myself…look for more in the coming days.