Last night in Amed - second edition – 3 beers and 2 proposals later…
So being my last night in Amed with nothing to do the next day but sit in a car for 4.5 hrs as I drove to Pemuteran, I decided that I should go out and have a few drinks on my last night. “Frenchy” had been bugging me every time I passed him about why I never texted (and I didn’t have the heart to tell him that his number got tossed) so considering he was a sure deal for some company that night I got his number again and told him I would text him when I got back from my night dive and we would have some beers. Thankfully I also ran into another guy from town, I’ll call him “Mr. B” because he’s quite bashful, who remembered me from last year and I got his number as well and invited him to join us…as they say, three’s a crowd! ;)
Anyway, I ended up getting back from my night dive later than expected and not even 10 mins after I walk into my bungalow “Frenchy” appears (without a text from me). I guess he just couldn’t wait and was probably worried I was going to stand him up again so he was cleverly acting preemptively! He shows up (showered I’m sure) in his Bali village boy finest and asks me if I’d like to go to the lookout/view point (once again, a very original move) to which I graciously declined and said I’d rather go listen to some music and have a party (in the company of MANY other people including Mr.B). Frenchy reluctantly agreed and said that we needed to take a ride around to find somewhere but I think this was more of a ploy to drive around town with his “prize” since everyone on the street whistled and hooted as he drove past and he made sure to honk his horn a lot (even more than usual Bali honking…which is a lot to begin with). Anyway, we ended up at a little bar not far from my place and thankfully Mr. B was playing drums so I knew I had a buffer. Beers were ordered, glances and winks and a lot of high fives and shoulder punches were exchanged between “Frenchy” and all his mates all of which I’m sure revolved around “way to score the tattoo chick”. Luckily “Mr. B” came over and soothed my palate with a shot of palm wine and the night was on a roll. Frenchy kept yabbering to his mate who was bringing us beer and disappearing into the back and no joke the first thing on my mind was “he’s gonna try to ruffie me”. The only thing I could reason as to why he disappeared when the beers were coming is that he was looking to slip me something. So, being the good little solo traveller that I am, I made sure to swirl the beer in the bottle, pour the first half of the bottle into his glass first and wait for him to take a gulp of it before I drank mine. I figured he probably wasn’t interested in ruffying himself. In the end all was fine and I have no idea why he kept disappearing. Perhaps he was concocting his clever plan of action with his buddy. The mystery remains. As the night wore on there were times when the band would stop for a break. At one point one of the guys from the band which I had briefly talked to on the street came over to present me with a gift of a shell from the beach to remember him by (keep the gag reflexes at bay here people). Well…”Frenchy” was having none of that! Faster than I could even say thank you, “Frenchy” was putting a bracelet on my wrist to remember him by to which the other guy looks a bit sad and kinda skulked off (which made me sad, the shell was sweet and I even saw him sneak off to the beach earlier to find it…bless). But anyway, “Frenchy” was staking his territory and continued to ask me all night if I liked it or not and telling me I could never take it off so I would never forget him. When the band ended, “Frenchy” suggested we go somewhere else, maybe to the beach and stupidly, my mind blurred by Beer Bintang (no time for dinner that night) I agreed. Anyway, par for the course “Frenchy” takes me to the beach and professes his undying love for me and I have to put him in his place. Did I mention he’s only 23? I just kept telling him that I was much too old for him which seemed like a good excuse. Now that I’m 31 I think I need to bring my age up to 25. I then had to get him to take me home and then go through the whole thing again. Bless him. Anyway, as I said before, Balinese men are oversexed and hanging out for them invariably leads to only one thing. Poor “Frenchy”. Anyways, the next day when I was leaving I texted him to say goodbye and thank him for his company, I never got a reply. Good to see he’s moving on, plenty of new tourists coming through. He told me his only dream in life is to marry an English speaking girl and make lots of halfy babies. So strange…but so Balinese.
So that leads me back to this morning. My ride to the north was leaving at noon so I had some time to kill and decided to go for a walk. As I’m on my regular route, Mr. B pulls up beside me and asks if I’d like to go jalan-jalan with him which is a weird Balinese equivalent of going for a walk but it’s usually done on a motorbike because Balinese don’t like to walk. So I say sure and away we go off the main road and end up at this lovely beach with no tourists. So we have a nice walk on the beach (which was only about 20 minutes but he was quick to let me know he had never walked so far on the beach his whole life!). So then he shyly tells me that he thinks I am very nice and pretty and that is why he remembered me the minute he first saw me on the street when I arrived. He then says he wishes that he could have talked to me more but he is shy and now it’s too late. Now I must admit that Mr.B is different from many of the other guys on the streets in Amed. He’s older and he doesn’t have that layer of sliminess that so many of them have. Perhaps because he’s older. But he strikes me as kind and I usually consider myself a decent judge of character. I’m surprised he doesn’t have a girlfriend and I told him so. His reply made me sad. He said “I have expired”. What is with these Asian cultures and the expiry date on love? In Japan if you’re over 25 you’re pretty much a goner and will remain unmarried forever, apparently the same goes for Bali. I figure Mr. B is older than 25, probably closer to my age, maybe even a little older but I think he’s a nice man and seems to be genuinely kind and generally lacking in Bali Cowboy antics. But in the end, I guess it can be said that all these boys are cut from the same cloth. Anyway, I left Amed with a nice boost to my self-esteem, even though I know it’s a scenario that plays itself out daily on the streets of Amed with a million different girls. It’s still nice to hear even if it’s not really genuine.
Cheers from the Heartbreak Holiday
J
So being my last night in Amed with nothing to do the next day but sit in a car for 4.5 hrs as I drove to Pemuteran, I decided that I should go out and have a few drinks on my last night. “Frenchy” had been bugging me every time I passed him about why I never texted (and I didn’t have the heart to tell him that his number got tossed) so considering he was a sure deal for some company that night I got his number again and told him I would text him when I got back from my night dive and we would have some beers. Thankfully I also ran into another guy from town, I’ll call him “Mr. B” because he’s quite bashful, who remembered me from last year and I got his number as well and invited him to join us…as they say, three’s a crowd! ;)
Anyway, I ended up getting back from my night dive later than expected and not even 10 mins after I walk into my bungalow “Frenchy” appears (without a text from me). I guess he just couldn’t wait and was probably worried I was going to stand him up again so he was cleverly acting preemptively! He shows up (showered I’m sure) in his Bali village boy finest and asks me if I’d like to go to the lookout/view point (once again, a very original move) to which I graciously declined and said I’d rather go listen to some music and have a party (in the company of MANY other people including Mr.B). Frenchy reluctantly agreed and said that we needed to take a ride around to find somewhere but I think this was more of a ploy to drive around town with his “prize” since everyone on the street whistled and hooted as he drove past and he made sure to honk his horn a lot (even more than usual Bali honking…which is a lot to begin with). Anyway, we ended up at a little bar not far from my place and thankfully Mr. B was playing drums so I knew I had a buffer. Beers were ordered, glances and winks and a lot of high fives and shoulder punches were exchanged between “Frenchy” and all his mates all of which I’m sure revolved around “way to score the tattoo chick”. Luckily “Mr. B” came over and soothed my palate with a shot of palm wine and the night was on a roll. Frenchy kept yabbering to his mate who was bringing us beer and disappearing into the back and no joke the first thing on my mind was “he’s gonna try to ruffie me”. The only thing I could reason as to why he disappeared when the beers were coming is that he was looking to slip me something. So, being the good little solo traveller that I am, I made sure to swirl the beer in the bottle, pour the first half of the bottle into his glass first and wait for him to take a gulp of it before I drank mine. I figured he probably wasn’t interested in ruffying himself. In the end all was fine and I have no idea why he kept disappearing. Perhaps he was concocting his clever plan of action with his buddy. The mystery remains. As the night wore on there were times when the band would stop for a break. At one point one of the guys from the band which I had briefly talked to on the street came over to present me with a gift of a shell from the beach to remember him by (keep the gag reflexes at bay here people). Well…”Frenchy” was having none of that! Faster than I could even say thank you, “Frenchy” was putting a bracelet on my wrist to remember him by to which the other guy looks a bit sad and kinda skulked off (which made me sad, the shell was sweet and I even saw him sneak off to the beach earlier to find it…bless). But anyway, “Frenchy” was staking his territory and continued to ask me all night if I liked it or not and telling me I could never take it off so I would never forget him. When the band ended, “Frenchy” suggested we go somewhere else, maybe to the beach and stupidly, my mind blurred by Beer Bintang (no time for dinner that night) I agreed. Anyway, par for the course “Frenchy” takes me to the beach and professes his undying love for me and I have to put him in his place. Did I mention he’s only 23? I just kept telling him that I was much too old for him which seemed like a good excuse. Now that I’m 31 I think I need to bring my age up to 25. I then had to get him to take me home and then go through the whole thing again. Bless him. Anyway, as I said before, Balinese men are oversexed and hanging out for them invariably leads to only one thing. Poor “Frenchy”. Anyways, the next day when I was leaving I texted him to say goodbye and thank him for his company, I never got a reply. Good to see he’s moving on, plenty of new tourists coming through. He told me his only dream in life is to marry an English speaking girl and make lots of halfy babies. So strange…but so Balinese.
So that leads me back to this morning. My ride to the north was leaving at noon so I had some time to kill and decided to go for a walk. As I’m on my regular route, Mr. B pulls up beside me and asks if I’d like to go jalan-jalan with him which is a weird Balinese equivalent of going for a walk but it’s usually done on a motorbike because Balinese don’t like to walk. So I say sure and away we go off the main road and end up at this lovely beach with no tourists. So we have a nice walk on the beach (which was only about 20 minutes but he was quick to let me know he had never walked so far on the beach his whole life!). So then he shyly tells me that he thinks I am very nice and pretty and that is why he remembered me the minute he first saw me on the street when I arrived. He then says he wishes that he could have talked to me more but he is shy and now it’s too late. Now I must admit that Mr.B is different from many of the other guys on the streets in Amed. He’s older and he doesn’t have that layer of sliminess that so many of them have. Perhaps because he’s older. But he strikes me as kind and I usually consider myself a decent judge of character. I’m surprised he doesn’t have a girlfriend and I told him so. His reply made me sad. He said “I have expired”. What is with these Asian cultures and the expiry date on love? In Japan if you’re over 25 you’re pretty much a goner and will remain unmarried forever, apparently the same goes for Bali. I figure Mr. B is older than 25, probably closer to my age, maybe even a little older but I think he’s a nice man and seems to be genuinely kind and generally lacking in Bali Cowboy antics. But in the end, I guess it can be said that all these boys are cut from the same cloth. Anyway, I left Amed with a nice boost to my self-esteem, even though I know it’s a scenario that plays itself out daily on the streets of Amed with a million different girls. It’s still nice to hear even if it’s not really genuine.
Cheers from the Heartbreak Holiday
J
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