I wake before dawn on my first full day in Bali, lace my running shoes and run west through dark streets, sidewalks appearing/disappearing, dodging massive sinkholes and traffic. I swing into the street to avoid a parked truck and a scooter stops quickly behind me, turning to apologize I see the driver's face expressing impatience. I arrive at the beach and run along the shore, the tide rising and the sky pale with morning rainbow color. I find a cobbled pathway which meanders at sand's edge for 2-3 miles, turning back when the path halts near the airport. The air is humid so I run slow and steady. I look for a place where I can do pull ups and find a soccer goal standing alone on the beach, do a couple sets and plan to return the next day. When I finish the run I remove my shirt and jump into the sea, the cool water a healing tonic, a blissful alertness of senses, remembering summer days in Chicago. My hotel is 1 mile from the sea, I pass a stretch of tourist shops where the clerks aggressively invade my space and try to sell sunglasses, t shirts, trinkets, and scams. I am shining with the post-run glow, skin moistened with sea water, gliding through the bull shit without disturbance. A middle aged man sitting on a scooter in a parking lot swings his arms and says "you running"? I nod my head, smile and don't break stride. One block from the hotel a scooter pulls beside me, I look, see it is the same man who asked if I was running. He begins talking of fitness and is impressed that I have no fat on my gut. He tells me he is in his 40's and needs to lose weight. He isn't a whale, but losing a few pounds would not hurt him. He speaks about breathing technique and motions to his gut, then moves his hand to my stomach while pressing a finger against it, which then slides underneath my shirt. I instinctively back away in alarm, and he says "no, no" as if I had misunderstood. I back up further as he continues talking about fitness, telling me I should visit the fitness club down the road. He drives off and I am left wondering what had just happened.
After a shower and a meal I decide to explore the Kuta beach streets. The shop owner's are not shy about breaking into the space of passersby, and I am unsure how to respond. Sometimes I say hello, or not interested, or nothing at all. A largish woman steps in front of me and I have a choice to stop or walk around her. As I attempt to pass she firmly grabs my left bicep and makes sure not to let go. "Young girl for you, you come now." I think of Thailand and how I had been fortunate to avoid direct contact with pimps and whores. I shake my head, telling her I am too old for a young girl. "No, you come", which she emphasizes by squeezing my arm. "She very good, young girl". Each time I refuse my arm is squeezed and she repeats how good and young the girl is. As I am trying to break free another woman, gaunt, with a shadow of faded beauty lingering in her face, gets into my space. She takes my free arm and ties a red leather bracelet onto my skinny wrist. "For good luck", she tells me, while I hear from the other, "you come with me, young girl waiting". "I collect coins from other countries, you from Australia?" I tell the aged beauty I am from the USA, but do not have any American coins to give. "You give me something for good luck now?" I fish inside my backpack and give her some Rupiah, then turning to the large woman, "I will be back tomorrow, I have to go now." She firmly squeezes my arm , pulling me off the sidewalk toward a nearby building, "no, tomorrow I will be back." I break free from her grasp and thank the gaunt woman for the bracelet, while the other hands me a massage brochure.
I wander a quarter mile before finding a road that turns west to the beach. My mind is numb to the endless questions, smiles, hellos, the "hey boss" introductions - a small taste of what famous people have to endure all the minutes of their public life. The road I turn on to is the famous Poppies 2, a narrow, curving alley which is filled with stalls, restaurants, small hotels. The road goes on and on, seeming much longer than it is because of the constant interruptions. The naked sun spares nothing - colors clashing with voices, paranoia increasing with the afternoon heat.
On the return walk I find myself standing at the large stone marking the entrance to the beach. A middle aged man approaches and his skill does not allow me to break free, so I shake his hand, answer his questions. He hands me a brochure/lottery ticket and we discover that I am the "star winner".
Lucky Winner with Lucky Bracelet
The man is surprised, elated for me, but I am positive it is an act, a con, and I am the mark. This is a man who I would like to play poker with - he sees a gullible face with a weak mind and I sense his awareness of my gullibility, which negates it. I go along with everything he says, patient, polite, gullible, but for the times when he tries to hook me. "You come with me in taxi now?" "No, I am going home to rest." "I pick you up tomorrow at your hotel, then?" "No, I have plans tomorrow, but I will soon be back and when I see you we can discuss it further." Every act of aggression is met with a soft counter, which, when accumulated, equals a haymaker knockout. Later, back at my hotel, I find out that the hotel he is pushing is a scam which has duped many people. There is a website dedicated to this scam, with poor suckers telling their tale of woe. I cannot fathom how anyone would believe that they can win a prize from a tout on the street.
