Ubud D69: Birds of Petulu

If you have seen the documentary "The Act of Killing," you know that Indonesia went through some shit in the 60's. Educate yourself.

After the mass killings started in 1965, thousands of egrets (white herons) started flocking to Petulu. Every day around 15,000-20,000 birds can be seen roosting in the treetops and playing in rice fields. The common belief is that the birds are the souls of the victims of the killings.

Now it's a tourist attraction- to see the Birds of Petulu.

Ian and I rent a motorbike (though technically illegal) because everyone's doing it and it's truly the best way to get around. (It's 60,000RP to rent for the day, which includes our two helmets.) Petulu is only 2 kilometers away from the city center, so it's a quick hop. 

We're told be to there between 5PM and 6PM when the egrets fly in and are extra active. It was a rainy day (of course), but it was Ian's last day in Ubud so we took a chance and headed over there. It's about 4:30PM.

We soon realize there isn't one specific place to see the birds from. The road has a ton of signs saying some interpretation of "Best Place to See the Birds." The locals also chime in, directing you to their restaurants. We try not to get shuffled to a place with unexceptional views, but it's pretty hard to tell where to go before the birds have arrived. 

No birds yet. Hmm, where to go, where to go...

SPLAT. Ian has the worst luck.

Ian gets sprayed with bird poo. It looks like someone dropped a vanilla shake on his lap. I'm giggling uncontrollably and reaching over him to take a picture. We look up. Oh yeah, the birds have arrived. 

 

I'm still laughing at Ian when a bird nails me on the head... but I'm wearing a helmet with a visor... riding behind Ian. Ian starts to laugh at me but he has no idea that the poo has splashed from my visor onto his back. We are in stitches.

Then we realize there are thousands more coming.

We finally see something that looks like an official ticketbooth, and since we don't know where to take cover we pay 20,000RP each to be directed to a temple 200 meters away. We head over there and can't find the temple. A lot of the house fronts and community centers look like temples. 

Useless Ticket

We drive back and forth, dodging milky sky-bullets, until I hop off and ask for directions. Of all the villagers for me to approach, I see someone with a smiling, seemingly familiar face. I want to ask him if I know him from somewhere but I'm afraid I'm being racist, maybe he looks like a generic Balinese man; I want to ask him if his name is Wayan, but I know that wouldn't narrow it down at all. 

The man enthusiastically helps me with directions, and Ian drives up, waving like a maniac. "Wayan!" he says. "From the cooking school!" 

OMG! That's it! It is him! Ian has the best memory. 

So Wayan lights up! He's so excited that we remember him, and he pretends to remember us! 

Wayan tells us to forget about the tickets we just bought, there is a good place to see the birds for free. He tells us to follow him to his community center. I look at the bike... my seat seems to be taken:

Wayan gets water to wash off the bike and Ian's legs. I try to give him money but he absolutely refuses. Instead, he asks if after viewing the birds we would like to go to his house for some coffee. Heck YES!

Entrance to community center- free place to view the birds.

We check out the birds. Wayan tells us that because it's a rainy day, they are a little inactive; usually the birds are loud and it smells pretty bad. It takes us a second to adjust our eyes, but we soon see all the trees are peppered with egrets.

 

Very nice. Had the weather been better, it could have been a relaxing spot to hang out and watch the sunset. It was drizzly and the birds weren't buzzing, so we headed to Wayan's house.

Wayan, just like anyone anywhere, was extremely apologetic and humble about his house. "It is so small and so dirty, I'm so sorry. It smells like cow from my neighbor." LOL. 

His place was great. It was nice to see a house that wasn't a businessman's mansion (like the cooking school or Bali on Bike's owner's). We actually got to see a local slice-of-life. Like every traditional Balinese residence, many generations lived in the compound. We saw a lot of relatives but no one was really fazed to see us enter.

We went to his "house", which was a few small rooms in the back of the compound. He introduced us to his mother who was holding his ten month old daughter. His wife was at work, so unfortunately we didn't get to meet her. Mom made us coffee, and the coffee was great!

Wayan showed us a picture from his wedding day. His wife was just a little pregnant. It seems like most marriages in Bali are MBA's (marriage by accidents) once the woman gets pregnant. (We found out that if you get an abortion the father has to go to jail for three years!) He explained a little about their celebration, and said that he had over 150 people visit his house the week of his wedding.

When we told him we are engaged he asked if it was because I was pregnant! Rudeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

He said people are always welcome to drop by his house at any time, including us. I asked if he had an email. Nope. He asked that we remember where he lived, so we could see him again someday. Lucky for us, the iPhone tracks the location of pictures we snap. We will try to be back!

Indonesia is a strange place... And so the day ended with a wonderful twist-- we went from being poo-covered and lost to having coffee at a friend's house. I can't stress enough how wonderful the Balinese we met were. If I were still living in New York and someone on the street asked if I'd like to go to his house for coffee, I'd end up in a freezer and a headline. All of the people that we met here are tolerant, trustworthy and genuine. Thank you Wayan, and all you Wayans out there!