Threads from Trey's Journal: Another round, Part II

On the way
Back left: Simon the boss, Bartek the man, Ollie the dud
Front left: Roland the king, Trey the jungle

We got back that afternoon and had just enough time for a movie and small nap before packing and jumping back in the Kijang with the rest of the guides to go camp at Balian for the night.

Happy ice-conny-cream
Cicrle K stopover aka get yourself either icecream or Bintang

Although the surf had been shit there today, Saturday was the full moon, so we were holding out hope for a freak swell jump. We loaded up on Bintangs and munchies at the Circle K and then hit the road.

trryfying ice-joko-cream

On the way, we passed a stray 2x4 in the middle of the road, which isn't too out of the ordinary, "hati-hati" are the words to literally live by when driving in Bali, but the locals on the motorbike behind us didn't see it in time and got pancaked on the pavement when they hit it.

Our beach-campground

We went back to make sure they were alright, which they seemed to be, more or less, though badly rattled.

"Georgetrey"

When we got to the beach, we set up our tents and lanterns, and Lars proceeded to roll joint after joint while Joko played guitar and the two of us sang louldly into the cloudy night sky, which would occassionally offer a bright, shining glimpse of the hidden moon.

Don Ollie

Once we decided to call it a night, Joko and Connie had a tent to themselves, and I had a huge four-man tent to myself.

Mesy-haircut Larsie

During the course of the night however, two separate showers passed through, and I was soon joined by Vialett and Lars, while the others did their best to stay dry by burying themselves as deep as possible into their boardbags.

Scary-eye Bartie

I woke at first light and the surf was far from motivating, so I went back to bed.

Joko Johnson

When I woke again, an hour or so later, the empty line-up was now clogged with thirty Japanese, with more stretching on the beach - back to bed.






I only left the comfort of my sleeping bag when forced by my bladder, but once up, I suited up and paddled out.

Say Aloha to all the Japs

It was lumpy and mushy, occassional head-high peak drops with soft shoulders; despite this, I managed a few good ones and even got a few shots with Joko behind the lens.

Bartek on the way for his banana pancake

Trey on the way for his omlette deluxe

We had a stellar breakfast at the same restaurant, and then made the journey home to prepare for the Green Room disco party that evening.

Banana pancake, high-fat.

Omlette Deluxe, higher-fat

Double omlette

On our drive back, as we were innocently cruising along, the other guide car whizzed by us and Connie doused Roland with a jug of water through his open window.

Indofanta
That's a shot from the series "only in indo"

We tried to get revenge three times only to be thwarted by locked doors and closed windows or the traffic itself. Every time we failed, the other car's crew laughed harder and harder at our efforts.

chomp on this

Jose in Rio

Let's go home



Only Kebab place on the island, just 1.20$

Hello, I'm in Indo

Threads from Trey's Journal: Another round, Part I

8.17.08 - Indonesian Independence Day


This last Thursday Joko and I took a few guests up to Medewi, one of the world's longest lefts, up on the west coast of Bali. We left at 5am and got there a little after seven. We stayed at Agus' family's house; Agus was the head guide at Kima for five years before leaving to start his own surf camp called "Brown Sugar," which is still under construction. Upon arrival we were greeted with coffee, tea, and platters of sweet fried bananas. Joko was telling Agus about my fresh back tattoo compliments of the reef at Bingin, which prompted Agus to show me his personal shrine - to himself.

14 people Kijang...hell yeah

He had a huge poster of himself in the barrel at Bingin, and then six smaller action & lifestyle photos underneath a big graphic of his name . . . the real kicker was that the poster was signed. Here was a guys showing me a poster of himself, which he signed himself - a classic first impression. The point break of Medewi is right across the street from his house, so after a quick surf check that revealed a packed line-up with three foot sets, we opted to drive a little further up the coast to surf an empty beach break by ourselves. I surfed for about three hours, swapping boards with Joko and getting some fun waves in conditions that I normally wouldn't have even paddled in.

Mbargo

That afternoon was a pretty extreme low tide and Medewi wasn't working at all, so I took a nice nap after a few banana pancakes. When I woke up, I read some George Oppen, who inspired me to go sit on the side of the road and attmpt to capture pieces of the lives passing me by.

Trey chillin in Alam Kul Kul,
That they was almost that shitty as messy was previous night
For example Betina ended up with 20 stiches on her face, she is fine by now

The town only has on paved road, so it is relatively busy, and a white man with a notebook sitting in a chair on the road-side was quite an oddity for the villagers who were all amused with my presence, which illicted smiles, waves, and beeps from nearly all passers. After an hour or so, Joko and I went to go check out Agus' camp, which so far consists of four traditional Java-nese style two-story guest shacks, an office, and a restaurant building. Joko and I had varying opinions about the building plans and layout, but were both impressed that Agus had sacked up and gone into business for himself.


That evening Agus' mother, who we all called "Mama," prepared us a traditional dinner of fresh fish, chicken, rice, and curry soup. Because it is a Muslim household, we don't wear any shoes (even on the patio) and we ate dinner on the floor of the living room, sitting on rugs that they roll out especially for meals. Agus is one of nine brothers, a few of which are traditional fishermen, so the fish was very fresh and prepared deliciously with a blend of local spices and vegetables.

I guess we already mentioned that our street is famous for scary lady-boys
Some of them can look sexy after just few Bintangs...be careful

After cleaning my own plate, I finished off the leftover fish of a few skeptical guests until I was on the verge of a food coma. I was stretched out on the sofa nodding off, when the chanting from the nearby mosque woke me; they have chanted reading five times a day, and despite how small Medewi is, they have two mosques. Joko shared some great memories of his childhood growing up in Sumatra as well after dinner. The Dutch, in an effort to populate the thousands of uninhabited islands of Indonesia, created a kind of homesteading support system.

Bartek and his model Lara :)

They would give away a tract of land to a participating family, including a home, then provide equipment for clearing the land for three months, and financial support for one year. Because it was a government operation, usually only one house of each development was checked for meeting standard requirements, when that house passed inspection, the officials would pass the entire development.

George from the Jungle
The best shoots always in Balangan

Joko said that the homes were in such poor condition that half of the people who originally came to settle this town in Sumatra left the very same day they arrived. In his own home, there was a giant tree stump that was so obtrusive that his mother didn't think that there was even enough room for all of them to sleep. Joko's father signed on for the program because he would be able to retire ten years earlier. When they arrived, his mother begged for them to return to the city (Kuta), but since they had already sold all of their belongings to make the trip, his father refused. So Joko grew up in a village with one mud street with no electricity, where elephants and even tigers occassionally roamed through his yard.

Jiggy-jiggin

All the children would walk to school together with their mini-machetes, chopping snacks off of their neighbors trees. Joko said that they would always ask, even when no one was home. "We're going to take this pineapple, ok?" Silence. "Ok, thank you," and they would run off and share the spoils between themselves. After Joko's stories, I called it an early night, while Joko and a few guests made a bonfire down the beach, serenading the nearly full moon. The next morning we woke up determined to surf Medewi, regardless of conditions.

breath in breath out darlings

It's a cobblestone beach with small patches of fine, silty black sand. We paddled out beyond the point, in a small channel between larger boulders jutting menacingly out of the water. Conditions were glassy, but small, sets running 2-3 feet with an occassional head high set. The morning was overcast and it eventually showered for a while, but then the sun came out and the surf didn't get big, but it got consistent and fun.


Met an older guy named Ron from San Clemente, who did a similar soul-searching trip when he was my age in Costa Rica, and ended up buying land and meeting his first wife down there. He came up to and asked, "what's thats guy's problem?" after Joko droppped in on me, which gave me a good laugh. We chatted and traded waves for a while, and though at first it was nice to talk to another American, I was ready to be left alone after about twenty minutes; which in retrospect gives me some trepidations about returning home and being surrounded once again by my dear, ignorant countrymen.

Party Latina

I started to cook in my short-sleeve full wettie, so I peeled it down to my waist, got a few more fun ones, and decided to call it a day. Because Joko and all the guests all went in so much earlier than me, I didn't realize that you could practically paddle to shore in front of the Medewi Hotel until I saw Ron paddling there, shaking his head at me pinballing off the rocks directly inside the break. There was a gazebo full of locals and Aussies who got a good show watching me tenderfoot it back to the beach, getting knocked around by whitewater over barnacle-encrusted cobblestones and urchin minefields.

Drop in can be fun

By the time I made it in, both feet were bleeding and I had urchin spines in my left hand and foot, along with my first ding in Ms. Piggy, my 5'8" pink chub-stick. Back at Agus' place I got his girlfriend Anna's email because she lives at Ragland in New Zealand, so hopefully she can put me up when I'm passing through. On our way home we stopped at Balian, which is a rivermouth A-frame, but the wind was all over it.

Hi5 to our neighbours from tatoo shop

We had lunch at the restaurant at the end of the road, which had an outstanding young coconut milkshake. Joko told me that he had an opportunity in '98 to buy the parcel of land that the restaurant was on for two million rp ($2,000 approx.), which was now a thriving restaurant and surfer hotel. The real estate value alone had increased 300% in ten years, and I could see Joko mentally kicking himself in the ass.

The question is where is the Ding?
700 000Rupiah, Trey's reverse, Ding almost invisible and nonexisting
Thanks god...Ari Insurance

he loves it
check out more bart's at www.flickr.com/photos/szups