Wednesday, February 16, 2011

If there aren't chickens and cows on the course, it isn't really golf


The weekend before Valentine's Day, my sweetie and I traveled back to the sister island of Bali known as Lombok. While Lombok isn't nearly as cool or romantic sounding as Bali, it is a pretty nice place.

Last visit we enjoyed the beach and spent a day in the city of Mataran to take in some various sights. We visited a wildly painted Chinese cemetery that had cattle grazing all around the plots, some Buddhist temples, a traditional market, and a "factory" where they weave ikat fabrics. It was all very fascinating and colorful.

We had a different plan this visit.

We are not only living in the land of "spa", but golf is a major activity here. Honey pie and I decided to take some golf lessons so we can get in to the "swing" of things. Maaf. I had to say it.

Our instructor is a Canadian guy and he is very patient. Good thing for us but could probably drive him to drink however.

With a grand total of three lessons under our belt, we decided to spend our Valentine's Day at a resort located next to a golf course in Lombok and put to use what we had learned.

The resort was very nice. Instead of a normal hotel, there were small bungalows. We had one that faced the beach and had a private plunge pool in which to plunge and cool off. This sounds way over the top, but it isn't all that unusual to find things like this at a pretty reasonable price in these here parts. Also, so not to be out done by Bali, many of the bungalows had outdoor baths. It is actually very private and kind of cool. Have had to do a similar make shift kind of thing when camping out in Big Bend National Park in West Texas. But....the only common thing between them is the fact that you are bathing rather unconfined. West Texas cannot be at all confused with being in tropical Indonesia. This is a good thing for both of them.

Bright and early the morning after we arrived, they sent a golf cart over to pick us up and take us to the club house. We drove along a dirt road next to kampungs and cattle. Chickens and roosters were running to get out of the way. It was an interesting sight.

We get to the club house and they loan us clubs and assign two caddies to us. Why? I really don't know since we were also given a cart, but that is how things are done here. I figure it is our way of supporting the local economy. Now our caddies didn't speak a lot of English and I have been very slack since Christmas and have not resumed my language lessons. This put us in the position of using lots of gestures and making sentences that I know sounded ridiculous. But it all worked out OK.

We drove to the first tee and being a gentleman, my main squeeze let me go first. I go to tee up the ball and my caddie beats me to it. He sticks the tee in the ground and puts a golf ball on top. OK. Hmmm. I get set and whack the ball and off to the right it sails. This was to be repeated 12 more times that day as we didn't make it through all 18 holes the first go round. The caddie consistently put the ball on the tee and I consistently hit the ball to the right on every single hole. My thoughts on that were that my teacher could at least say I was consistently bad and if he could fix what ever was causing me to do that I would be driving them straight on down the fairway and attain golf glory.

The reality of all this bad driving was that many times I put the ball in to some deep tropical vegetation. Here is where I was overjoyed and understood why we had caddies. I, for one, was not sticking my hands in there. God only knows what was lurking in the tangle of things. I wasn't going to find out first hand.

Now don't feel too sorry for our caddies. As we would drive from hole to hole various "galleries" would appear. Most of the time it was kids from the kampung who would help the caddies look for the ball, offer to sell you a new ball (which they had found - and could have been the one you just lost), or just stand quietly and watch you make a fool out of yourself. It was very unnerving to be so observed but as mentioned in previous blogs - we draw a crowd where ever we go.

At various junctures, hens with chicks would scurry out of the way as you walked up to the tee. Very proud, vocal roosters would give your ball the one eye stare if it was close to him. Occasionally, someone carrying a rice cooker would walk from one kampung on one side of the fairway to another kampung on the other side all while you were setting up for a shot. At one point there were two cows and a calf standing about 20 feet in front of the tee box and a large group of people about 75 yards on the right of the fairway using hand tools to cut grass from the rough, and beyond, to carry back across the fairway to feed their livestock. This was a major dilemma. I am just way too inexperienced to feel confident that I wouldn't put a cow's eye out or bean someone standing on the side of the course especially since there were off to my right. I figured I should first deal with the cattle.

Normally, animals run away when you approach them. These cows didn't give a flip about me. These were uninformed bovine. I start waving my hands and saying "shoo, shoo" to them. Nothing. They just continued chewing on the tasty grass on the golf course. I walk a little closer and try again. Sama (same). I then decided to go closer and speak bahasa Indonesia to them. I wave my hands and start saying "pulong, pulong, pulong." Pulong means to go home. That did the trick and off they charged. I was happy that my language skills served me so well. Most likely my caddies thought I was an idiot for worrying about the cows and conversing with them even if it was in their native tongue. Not so easily impressed I guess.

Now came phase two. The people on the right. As mentioned before, every drive I made went right so what should I do? About 20 people are over there, standing now, staring at me. No pressure. So I take a short swing and try to not hit the ball too hard but try to put it where my next shot will not place them in harms way. Thus, it was a terrible looking shot which went about 50 yards. My fan club watched. Yet another unimpressed group, went back to cutting the grass.

On another hole we had two komodo dragons, according to our caddies but one of my friends thinks they were monitor lizards as komodo dragons don't live on Lombok, run across the course as well.

Nothing like communing with nature while you are out pretending to be a duffer.

After 12 holes of fun in the hot tropical sun, we called it a day and set up to come back the next day. Our caddies jumped on that and said they would come get us the next morning. We tipped them, sent them off with bottles of water and we drove back to our private plunge pool to cool off.

The next day was pretty much a repeat of the day before. No matter what I did, it always went to the right. I had also made the decision that I was going to make it all the way to the 18th hole. By number 13 I was really getting tired. My caddie even hit the ball on a couple of holes to try to put me in a better position. We played best ball and sometimes we even picked up the ball and drove closer to the green with it. These are things I know you are not supposed to do, but I am not Arnold Palmer and I took a lot of liberties.

We did make it through all 18 holes and the caddies were paid and given lots of bottles of water. They wanted us to come back the following day. Wow! Does that mean they have seen worse golfers than us? Unfortunately, or fortunately - depending on if you are cattle, we were leaving the next day and couldn't play. Next time buddies.

We enjoyed our plunge pool one last time and had a Valentine's Day dinner on the beach. Our driver took us back a different route to the airport the next morning. The other times we have traveled on the road that runs next to the beach. This time we returned thru the Monkey Forest.

My expectations were pretty low and I figured the monkeys would be back in the forest away from the road. This was not so. Just like the cattle, people didn't bother them at all. In fact, since people feed them they know where to come to get a quick and easy meal. We are the Mickey D's to the wild kingdom. In some areas there would be pull offs and cars would be parked and there would be monkeys all around eating pieces of fruit and vegetables people tossed out the windows.

As we drove down the narrow road making our way to the airport there would be a monkey sitting on every guard rail support we passed. It is very much like the scene you see at the beach where there is a sea gull on every piling. A mother monkey with a baby clutched to her chest. Young juvenile monkeys lean and curious. Big male monkeys who sometimes had stunning, almost, handlebar mustaches. All quite dashing looking.

I had packed my camera in a bag that was in the back of the van. It was agony not to be able to stop and photograph all of this. We did however have a plane to catch so I didn't make the driver stop while I dragged my gear out. We would have easily lost two or three hours as there was lots to photograph. I can still see a vibrant green rice field with a lone bicycle leaning against a tree. Folks on their way to celebrate at the local mosque dressed in their finery as we were traveling on Muhammad's birthday and it is one of the national holidays. And monkeys. Just begging to be photographed. Guess that means that I will have to go back and spend the day out exploring with my camera. That is the way it seems to be here.

Upon our return, we went to the driving range and my instructor worked out the problem. We just need to get out there and try again. This time on a par 3 course so we don't get overwhelmed and frustrated.

Life is just different here. In so many, many ways. I am finding that I am still adjusting. Some stuff that seemed overwhelming isn't as much so. Some stuff still remains that way.

Guess that is just life. No matter which side of the planet you live on.