Time
to get out and see a bit of Lombok.
A driver/guide who lurks just outside our cottages has offered his
services so we arrange for the following day. He turns up with his driver and friend and the four of us
develop an itinerary (everyone here says 'program' as in 'what is your program
for today?') which includes a visit to a famous temple in Mataram, Lombok's
capital city, a walk about the local market, and finally a visit to a pottery
village where we can see women making pots that have acquired a certain level
of sophistication and recognition.
First
stop the Temple -
. . . huge and obviously the site of a variety of activities, including a Balinese dance class
. . . fishermen, big and small . . .
Then
it's off to the market. I don't
know what Tim's image was (probably pretty close to mine since we increasingly
seem to share a brain) but this market boggles my mind (and nose, and eyes, and
feet - watch where we put every step!). Here's where the locals come to sell everything from
dried fish to cabbage. Literally
as far as the eye can see are stands filled with every sort of vegetable, spice
. . . all tended by women. Even the butchers are women!
Not
too many Westerners make their way here - we are called to, greeted shyly, and
in general welcomed in that inimitably sweet way we've come to associate with
Bali and now Lombok.
This
is a wholesale market - shopkeepers from all over the area come to buy the
produce, spices, dried fish, and meats they, in turn, sell to patrons. We're here on a Sunday so it's a bit slow . . .
We
have to make one stop in a package store and buy an assortment of things that
all seem to be made of rice - the only thing we recognize are peanuts and
they're way smaller than the peanuts we know.
Last
stop, the pottery village. Our
guide, Din, tells us that it would be a kindness to stop and buy some pencils
and pens for the children and hand them out as a 'thank you' for watching their
mothers at work.
Off
we go for a walkabout . . . this feels like a pretty typical village, kids,
chickens, goats, dogs everywhere, dirt lanes, communal dwellings and a lot of
curiosity about these Westerners who come bearing gifts! These pencils and pens turn out to be a
genius idea - Tim is Father Bountiful and Santa Claus all rolled into one. Amazing (and at the risk of repeating
myself, humbling) how excited a child can get over the gift of a pen!
Our
reward, one of the women sits down at her 'wheel' and in front of my eyes in
about 10 minutes or less makes a pot!
Amazing and of course she makes it look so simple - just glob that clay
on, shape the bowl, add more to build up the sides . . .
smooth it, and voila, a
pot!
Her smoothing tools - various sizes of flip flop halves (see them in the bucket)!!
A chicken waits nearby, in case a pot needs decorating .
. .
The
pots are then set out to dry before going to be fired.
They are
taken to a communal firing location but somehow everyone knows whose pots are
whose and when they're 'done' are taken to a cooperative pottery store, a
clever way to forestall competition that could disrupt this small, tightly knit
village.
Funny
exchange - this elderly woman chattered excitedly to Din, our guide, and seemed
to want to communicate something to me.
I asked Din and he said:
'She says she's old like you, but you have such nice teeth!' OMG, I hope I don't look this
old!! And she's right, the
poor dear had about a half dozen, rotted stumps in her mouth. Here she is trying to persuade Tim to purchase some herbs . . .
Interesting,
another exchange (translated by Din) were people commenting on how loving Tim
and I were with each other.
Apparently, by the time Lombok couples get to our age, they barely speak,
much less hold hands in public.
One woman volunteered that she hadn't slept with her husband for years!!
And
more than one woman wanted to know 'How old are you?' Have no idea why that was important and my answer didn't
prompt any kind of response - just seemed to be something they wanted to know. (they never asked Tim, only me).
Fascinating, informative, funny day . . .
