Bali Shmali

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I’d like to meet the marketers who branded Bali as a tropical island paradise. Because they’re geniuses. I am by no means complaining. An all-expenses paid week on the beach sure as hell beats a week at work. This post is more of a warning to all of you out there who are significantly richer than me and can afford a wildly expensive vacation to a sun-filled idyllic island. My advice: go to Lake Michigan. Trust me, it’s prettier.

We were warned before we arrived that the weather forecast called for rain, but that didn’t prepare us for the downpour of tacky souvenirs we encountered at every stop along the way. Apparently, Bali, Panama City Beach and Cancun get their tchotchkes from the same supplier… because everyone around the world really wants to bring home a wooden Harley Davidson replica to make their friends turn green with envy. And since we were on a guided tour of Bali and the tour guides got kickbacks for taking us to souvenir and duty-free markets, we had ample opportunities to purchase wooden, phallic-shaped, well, pretty much anything. One of my co-workers explained to me that the phallic bottle opener was a tribute to a Balinese god. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to learn more about Bali’s culture or if I should stop while I was ahead.

Luckily, our New Year’s dinner provided new insight in Bali, land bereft of culture. With easily more than 500 people cramped in to a ballroom, hungry and wanting to wash away 2007 with a big flute of bubbly, the hotel and restaurant staff had their work cut out for them. “How will we keep all these people entertained when the food arrives in 50 minute intervals and there isn’t enough booze to go around?” Luckily, these crafty Balinese had some tricks up their sleeves. First, they gave all the children surprisingly loud paper saxophones. I was propitiously seated next to my boss’s two children, both under the age of eight.

My headache was not from excessive amounts of red wine, but I sure wish it was. Next the entertainment featured traditional Bali dancers. Seated near the back of the room and surrounded by sibling rivalry manifested in to a saxophone blowing contest (the boy won, but only after he broke his sister’s sax in half), I missed out on my opportunity to really bask in this cultural demonstration; however, after 11 o’clock rolled around (and we were only on our third course), the lights dimmed and emcee came on to tell (or forewarn) us about the upcoming musical number. “Ladies and Gentleman, I give you…. the sexy dance!” Liberace rolled over in his grave when three women (well, it was questionable at first) came out wearing tiny dresses adorned with about 1.3 million sequins per square inch. They started by shaking their asses to some lyric-less music while a debate over their precise gender arose at our table. Just then, as if they knew what we were wondering, they stripped off their sequined monstrosities and began prancing around the dance floor while the speakers screamed “You’re a sexy fuck”. If you’re wondering, yes, I was still seated next to the small children. Granted they are only fluent in Chinese and Japanese, but they do speak English and, for the love of our future, have eyes. While what appeared to be an American tourist group (shocker) near the front of the room seemed very supportive of the women’s decision to bare it all, shock (unaccompanied by awe) was the general response of our group.

Liane and I finally decided to head to our room around 11:30 since it didn’t appear the next course was coming out any time soon and the sexy dance had pretty much ruined our appetites. To our delight, Batman Begins was playing, which we happily watched for about 15 minutes before deciding that we really just couldn’t ring in 2008 in Bali by making fun of Christian Bale’s Batman voice and Katie Holmes’ inability to act. So we heading back downstairs and heard the strains of “The Final Countdown” calling to us from the ballroom. We rushed in, thinking our watches were running slow and we were about to miss the proverbial ball drop, but no. The band just started the song at 11:50, giving us the pleasure of enjoying a 10-minute rendition of a song best appreciated by the geniuses behind Arrested Development. There really was no better way to ring in 2008. Of course, at approximately 12:05, Liane and I headed back up to the room to reunite with Christian and Katie.

Despite all of the above, the trip did prove to be an excellent bonding experience. And just so you don’t go thinking I’m an ungrateful little snot for getting a free trip to Bali and not appreciating it, here is a list (because we all know how I love lists) of some of the highlights of Bali:

1) Dunkin’ Donuts, directly beside our hotel.

2) A popcorn stand at the mall. No, not like movie theater popcorn. Just a row of about five microwaves and a range of popcorn varieties to choose from. If there is a heaven, and I ever get there, there will be popcorn stands like this on every corner. With spray butter (which ps-I just ran out of. I’m just saying… if you loved me, you’d send me spray butter).
3) English language magazines. We all received spending money for the trip. I spent mine on three things: internet, Dunkin’ Donuts and cheesy celebrity rags.
4) Rafting down a creek with three female co-workers and beating all the boys. They might not have known we were racing, but that doesn’t refute the fact that we won.
5) Grilled crab, lobster, shrimp, mussels, oysters, fish, gloriousness.
6) Having our Chinese guide refer to me only as “laowai” (foreigner).
7) Being told that Australians (and all white people) were bad and we should not hang out with them while in Bali because they would bring trouble.
8 ) The two hour massage, despite the fact it was followed by a mandatory 15 minute rose petal bath. Let’s just say Liane and I were forced to reached a new level of friendship.

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Tags: Bali, Beach, New Year's Eve, Strippers, Work