Living in Singaraja Bali: Walking with Rebecca

Back in Singaraja once again after a few months in Denpasar (written about over at lifeinthetropics), Rebecca and I have been taking hour walks around the city early in the morning so that she gets some doctor-ordered exercise before she gives birth sometime later this month. I tried to get the other children to accompany us, but they are definitely not up for early morning exercise. Today we took off to wander the streets and neighborhoods to the west of Kampung Bugis. Even at 6:30, the streets are teeming with traffic and the small, local markets packed with throngs of ibus (ibu is a generic term of address for adult women similar to Mrs. or Ms.; it also means mother ) doing their shopping for the day's cooking.

Unlike years past, many of the neighborhoods now have narrow sidewalks, although using them can be a challenge as they are often used as parking spaces for motorbikes, convenient spots to expand the boundaries of small shops and eateries called warungs and places of rest for the irritating presence of Bali's wandering dogs (still here despite the roundups over the last few years due to the rabies epidemic on the island). We navigate our way through these obstructions, carefully hugging the edge of street so as not to become one of Bali's many traffic fatalities. A young mother-to-be and her old father gather a few stares and some smiles along the way, as well as some surprised greetings from neighbors, family and acquaintances who are also out shopping, having some exercise, or just passing the time watching life in neighborhoods.

Out on Jalan Dewi Sartika, we pass an old acquaintance who built one of the first discos in North Bali several decades ago. I rarely see him these days and am surprised to notice his graying, thinning hair. I still have a mental image of him as he looked decades ago when we'd sit in his bar/restaurant having a few beers while talking about life in North Bali. We chat about what we're up to these days and how many grandkids we have and make some plans to get together in the near future. The chance encounters with old friends that I've had since I've been back in Singaraja reminds me of just how long I've been here in Bali and how much things have changed here over the past several decades. The north coast is in the process of changing from a quaint, sleepy, laid-back melting pot of Bali's diverse population to a bustling large city somewhat marred by the lack of central planning in its development (something common to all areas of Bali these days, as everyone from locals to Western expats to monied Javanese rush to get a piece of Bali while prices for land and houses continue on in a crazy spiral onwards and upwards).

A nephew drives by in his bemo and gives us a few honks and a wave, a brother-in-law pulls over to the side of the street to ask where we've been on our walk today, a neighbor corrals Rebecca to check her tummy and ask when she got back from Denpasar. We walk out onto the main road, Jalan A. Yani, and surprisingly the traffic here is less intense than on the little sidestreets. A few policemen are out controlling the traffic; one waves and I gesture to inquire if I can take his photo. He gives me a big smile and the thumbs-up sign.

Farther along A. Yani as we head for home, I notice a new bakery. I know that there's another one on Jalan Diponegoro. As I take a photo, I wonder what market forces have brought about the openings of all the bakeries that I came across while living in Denpasar and see now opening in Singaraja. Baked goods have long been a part of the Indonesian diet, but in the past they were generally sold in small shops along with a variety of other goods; now we have gleaming, Western-style bakeries specializing in cakes, donuts, and a variety of breads. I know now where to buy my wife's birthday cake this year.

Back home again, the cat that Rebecca and I rescued a few months ago in a field in Denpasar is racing through the house looking for our rabbit; the two have become somewhat unlikely friends. It's time to begin the chores for the day under the cloudy Singaraja sky.

Trip to Padangbai: A Little Old, a Little New: Part II

The large beer disappeared quickly, as did the two bottles of water. The lumpia were different from what I usually eat – larger, softer and in a sauce – but excellent. Refreshed, I engaged in the usual friendly banter with the two young women who were waiting on me: where are you from, where are you going, are you married, how many children do you have, is your wife from here, how long have you been in Bali? As always, this was a pleasant way to pass the time while the ngaben continued slowly moving south with traffic still backed up in front of the hotel.

I was watching a tattooed Indonesian fellow give instructions to a guy who had pulled into the driveway in a small flatbed truck. They loaded the Harley onto the truck, made sure it was secure and then sat down at the next table to have coffee. The tattooed fellow jumped up right after he had sat down and introduced himself to me as Edi, owner of the Bali Permai, the motorcycle and the Kijang. He sat down at my table, ordered me a coffee and started up a conversation. Originally from Jakarta, Edi has a Harley business in Jakarta, but he also has this hotel and a new place down the road in Amed. We passed some time discussing our marriages, kids, land prices in Bali, the hotel business, Edi's love of Harleys, his tattoos and the changing nature of Tulamben. In the middle of the conversation, Edi jumped up again – this guy has an amazing amount of energy – and ran off into the hotel, returning with a large key chain imprinted with the hotel's name and a Harley symbol, which he presented to me as a gift. He also reminded me to recommend his place to any friends of mine who might be visiting Bali. Eventually the ngaben moved off the main road, the traffic cleared up and it was time to be on the road again.

Driving through Tulamben, I briefly consider spending the night there, but I have fond memories of staying in Tulamben back in the old days when there were only a few accommodations in the village before it became a busy diving center. I decide to head on through the east coast's lunar landscape to Candidasa with the idea that I might stay there for the night rather than continue all the way to Padangbai. Once past Tulamben the road veers off from the coast and up through a series of hills that offer some of the most beautiful visions of rice paddies in Bali. Over the years, I have taken hundreds of photos in this area, and when I have visitors they always want to stop and absorb the magnificent landscape. I cruise up and over the hills, rice paddies glistening under a Balinese sun.

The traffic in Amlapura is a bit more congested than usual. Probably another ceremony. This is a town that I have always found attractive, spacious and clean. I'd like to live here for a while. Why isn't there enough time to live in all these places that I find attractive. Traveling – I find traveling somewhat less than satisfying – it's too quick, too ephemeral, if this is Tuesday it must be Belgium. The anthropologist in me wants to know what the people are like; what do they do at night, do they argue loudly or in whispers, where do they shop, what is it about this place that they love? But to live somewhere, to occupy a place, to bend time and space to squeeze inside the hearts and souls of the people. Well, not today for sure, not this life most likely, but maybe another time around.

As quickly as the traffic appears, it disappears and before I know it, I'm entering Candidasa. Clusters of well-dressed tourists roam the main street – this is definitely not Kuta. But, the vibe doesn't seem right for me to stay and despite my sunburned hands, arms and face, I decide to cruise on through the village to Padangbai because that's the real mystery for me. A place that I've passed through dozens of times, yet never explored. Thirsty again, I'm in the rhythm of the road. The bike and I have reached that place where we're joined – it's been over 200 clicks today over the rough Bali roads and I feel that I can ride another 200.

I hit the turnoff to Padangbai and get a rush; without realizing it I have the bike over 100kph – fast for a Balinese road. I pull back some and cruise into the village almost entering the ferry terminal from the memory map based on almost ten years of ferry trips. Sharply turning left onto a small road, I think that I must have missed a turnoff – this can't be Padangbai because there's nothing here. Piles of garbage on a narrow, nondescript street and some guides looking for business. But as I negotiate a sharp corner just ahead, I see the Zen Inn. I've reached the tourist section of the village.

Slowly cruising past small shops selling water, biscuits, batteries and everything that a tourist might possible want. A restaurant with a few attractive ladies in front, a dive center, another restaurant, another shop. I'm trying to reach into the recesses of an old, somewhat battered memory bank for the information from a travel article that I wrote on Padangbai a few years ago for the USA Today. Nothing is coming forward, and as I'm thinking of turning back to check out the Zen Inn, I see a young woman sitting on the street in front of a sign for Marco Inn. 

I pull over, suddenly exhausted, and ask if she works for the inn. Yes, she owns it with her foreign husband. How much is a room? I ask. Hoping that it will be under my limit of 150,000 per night. Ah, it's 100,000. No need for me to bargain. That magical number that I love. I've never been let down in rooms that go for that price. Now 150,000, I've had good and bad experiences, but 100,000 just perfect. I stumble off the bike feeling a bit bowlegged. The young lady giggles and tries to hide it. I just smile, I feel like I'm home. I don't even need to see the room to know it will work. But, of course, there are conventionalities to be followed. This is Bali after all and even a weary traveler looking for whatever it is that brought me here must follow conventions.  

Back from a Long Trip to Ubud: My Oasis in Bali

Generally my trips to Ubud only last a day or two; this time I decided to stay down there for a while for a needed change of pace. There are times when living in a small, crowded kampung just gets to be a bit much. My favorite place to stay in Ubud is a small homestay – they actually call themselves an inn – with a friendly family, decent rent, good breakfasts and a quiet peaceful garden that is ideal for just sitting, thinking and writing. No TV, no internet connection, just some books, some time and a little peace.

I've been staying there for 23 years. I've brought my eldest son, my wife and close friends with me on a few trips, but mostly I stay there alone. It's the place where I go when I need to reflect and not concern myself with what's happening outside of my inner landscape. Artja's is the closest I can get to occupying a remote world while being right in the center of the teeming tourist/expat world of central Ubud.

I drove up to Kintamani and then down to Ubud as usual. The trip has become so routine that I can get lost in my thoughts while driving through some of Bali's most spectacular countryside absorbing the almost timeless spell that this region casts upon me ; a rare treat and something that I never take lightly. The sweet smell of cloves drying along the roadside; the warmth of sunbeams piercing through the tall trees outlining the road.

Stopped by a large police contingent checking all foreigners's driving documents, I had a quick smile and bit of banter while they checked my licenses and registration. Pulling into Artja Inn, I was warmly welcomed and led to my favorite room in the far back: a simple, but comfortable bed, a small fan, an open-air shower and a small verandah. The small mirror in the bathroom a welcomed addition for morning shaving.

The family and I exchanged greetings and small talk about the weather in Ubud and Buleleng (my home region). I unpacked my gear, finishing just as the hot water arrives for use with the endless supply of coffee and tea that sit on a small table on each verandah.

This trip was unusual in that I stayed five days; a long, curious encounter with a group of local expats; wandering through areas of Ubud that I haven't visited in decades, and spending a few days engaged in delightful conversations with a couple of young tourists from France and Germany. Those people that know me well, know that I tend to shy away from contact with new people, but on this trip I met more new people than I have met in the three years that I've been back in Bali after my six year stay in Sumbawa.

Hours of tales, reminiscences, cautions, culture and history lessons. Speaking with a fellow Chicagoan we spin tales of writers, politicians, wars, riots, money come and gone, women loved and lost. New Yorkers, Californians, film-makers, antique dealers, everyone with a fascinating history, but now somehow all gathered here in Bali. It's a long way from the kampung; some needed stimulus for my own work which gets confused and contorted with too much isolation.

I dread the entrance of the two young tourists who take the room next to mine. Young, beautiful people; laughing they introduce themselves and ask for advice about where to visit on their two days in Ubud. I take the role of the old-timer and offer a few suggestions. They wander off to explore the area. The next day they arrive excited from a long day out touring and shopping. The young lady, radiantly beautiful, excitedly describes her purchase of a silk sarong. She pops inside and quickly appears to model it for her companion and me. It is indeed lovely, but as I've often found, local clothes somehow fit better on locals. But, we both offer our congratulations on her purchase of such a lovely piece of cloth. She wants to go out and try the nightlife. Her companion opts to relax in his room, but he asks a question and it begins hours of talk about the culture of the island and the country, about his interests and mine. It's a rewarding few hours of sharing – a long time since I've done that with a stranger.

In the morning, he takes his leave for Sanur thanking me for the evening's talk. I'm somewhat amazed that he hadn't found it another long, boring discourse on local culture from an old anthropologist. She stays for a while, has a coffee and a short chat and then is on her way with new companions who will share her last few days in the country.

I spend another few days exploring the lanes of Ubud; arriving back each day sweaty, thirsty and filled with wonder at how despite the hordes of foreigners that crowd the streets and lanes of Ubud, it has somehow managed to retain its charm; maybe not quite as quaint as it once was many years ago, but still somehow intoxicating when viewed in the fading light of an afternoon's sun.

Trip to Padangbai: A Little Old, a Little New: Part I

With a house full of people, only half of whom I knew and a continuous, deafening booming from some terrible dangdut that started at 6:30 am and was scheduled to go on until midnight, I was getting to feel like a cranky old man complaining about the noise and the people. Indonesians, like many other Southeast Asians, love loud music – the louder the better – and crowds of people – the more the merrier. No matter how long I live here, my core personality is not going to change. So, in the interests of everyone, I decided that it would be a good idea to hit the road. I wasn't planning on one of my overnight trips, so I hopped on the bike with just my handphone and digital camera. The plan was just to get out of the house for a while and give everyone some space to do their own thing.

A visit to Pemuteran seemed like a good drive on a lovely sunny Sunday morning. Passing through the Lovina area, I was struck by how ugly it's become – full of villas, furniture stores, bakeries, repair shops, restaurants, bars and one hotel after the next. The bucolic scenes of the past are gone forever, as Lovina strives to become a cut rate version of Kuta and Legian. The old Chicago Transit Authority songs, Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is? and 25 Or 6 To 4, kept running through my head as I blasted through Kalibukbuk, Temukus and Banjar heading towards Seririt.

scenes from the past

I was surprised to see that Seririt had a Hardys – seems they're everywhere on the island now since they're popular with both locals and foreigners. Seririt looked more prosperous than in the past, and without the glut of tourist-oriented businesses, I felt that I was getting back into an easier, less crowded and less hectic past. Through Grogak thinking you may think that you lost out on the much discussed second Bali international airport, but you've won. I had to pull my bike over for a short break while a ngaben wove down the main road. Then up to Pulaki where there was a major ceremony in process. I took a quick look and headed into Pemuturan.

By this time my wife texted me to let me know that the ceremonies in the house would be going on until midnight and I might as well just stay over night. I texted back to make sure I understood her message. I pulled over in Pemuturan looking at possible accommodations for the night. The vibe just wasn't right; something seemed uncomfortable and out of balance. Working more on instinct than logic, I turned the bike around and headed back to Kalibukbuk to have a few drinks at my favorite beachside restaurant. Pulling in at the beach, I was surprised, disappointed and depressed to see my favorite place torn down and something new under construction. A feeling of having something wonderful from my past disappear enveloped me; I headed back towards Singaraja not sure of my next step.

As I drove down Jalan Diponegoro, the destination Padangbai popped into my head. I've long wanted to spend a night there and as I hadn't received a reply from my wife yet, I drove on through Singaraja heading west. Passing through Air Sanih, I thought about stopping for a snack and a drink, but the road was filled with restless looking young men waiting for something to do. I wanted to stay small, under the radar, an invisible old man driving through the countryside. I drove on towards Tulamben, one of the old places during my early years in Bali where I'd go to have a swim, spend a night or two reading, drinking beer, writing, chatting to the local guys. Maybe I'll stop there I thought. Save myself from more driving as I was suddenly aware of a sunburn developing on my hands and forearms.

ngaben in Tulamben

I love the drive down the east coast with the change to a drier ecosystem with cacti lining the roads. Entering the village of Kubu, I had to stop. Traffic was backed up, and I could see far ahead of me one of the magnificent creamation towers swaying in the breeze coming off the sea slightly cooling the cloudless heat of early afternoon. Passing the long line of cars and trucks, I moved close enough to take a few photos and then quickly retreat to a small patch of shade under a few trees lining the roadside. I waited for an hour with a changing collection of Balinese – families of four and five on a small motorbike, a few grizzled veterans of many ngaben sharing a kretek cigarette on an old Honda, two dazzling young beauties in their finest ceremonial clothes pulled alongside to say hello, and I was transfixed by their huge dayglow sunglasses that rocketed me back to the 60s. Every so often I would move up along with the gathering crowd in the back of the procession and look for a new bit of shade. Seriously burned now and more than a little dehydrated, I started looking for a warung or restaurant to take shelter in for some shade, food, water and beer.

Like a mirage in this coastal desert, a sign appeared – Pondok Wisata, Bali Permai. I inched forward to see a few young women sitting around a table watching the scene. In the small driveway was a shiny new Kijang and a gleaming Harley Davidson. Signs from somewhere, I pulled in, slowly peeled myself off my burning saddle, and slipped into a chair in a table in a shady place. I decided to save the usual chitchat for later and ordered two lumpia, a large beer and two cold bottles of water.

Walking Tour of Singaraja: Jalan Erlangga and Jalan Hasanuddin

Today I'm going to walk up Jalan Hasanuddin which is just a street to the east of Jalan Imam Bonjol, which I wrote about in the last walking tour post.

A map of my walks.

After leaving Kampung Bugis walking to the east comes the intersection of Jalan Diponegoro and Jalan Erlangga. Actually, Jalan Dipongegoro becomes Jalan Erlangga in that way that streets do here. Navigating any city in Bali is made more difficult by the fact that house and shop numbers do not necessarily change sequentially and one street suddenly becomes another without warning. Detailed maps may be of some help, but how many of us carry maps around with us? So out onto Jalan Erlangga; this is a short street. This part of it is narrow and often congested because of traffic coming from Jalan Diponegoro, which, as one of the main streets of Singaraja, gets a lot of traffic, and Jalan Pattimura which runs through Kampung Bugis and gets a lot of traffic because all of the trucks coming from the west have to be routed through Jalan Pattimura. Find a photo. A lot of cars and delivery trucks double park here which adds to the congestion.

Jalan Erlangga has a large furniture shop where we buy most of our furniture. We'll occasionally run into foreigners from the Lovina area shopping for furniture there. This is not the expensive custom made furniture, but they have some nice beds and a few other pieces. One the south side of Erlangga is another furniture shop. We buy things there occasionally. Additionally, there are several automotive parts stores, a fishing/photography shop, a small grocery store selling dry goods and beverages, a baby shop and at several bicycle stores. Other buildings include a mosque and a store selling generators, hardware and other building tools.

Jalan Hasanuddin, Singarja Bali

Jalan Erlangga continues on past the intersection with Jalan Imam Bonjol. Here, Jalan Erlangga becomes a wider two-way street. Both sides have a number of shops selling building supplies such as paint, plywood, ceramic tiles, tools, varnish, nails and bolts, cement, and a variety of other building materials. This section of Jalan Erlangga continues on about 200 meters until it reaches the entrance to the old harbor and the bridge; it then becomes Jalan Surapati. Right across from the entrance to the bridge on the south side of the street is the start of Jalan Hasanuddin. Like Jalan Imam Bonjol, Jalan Hasanuddin is a one-way street running south. A lot of the buildings on Jalan Hasanuddin are storage facilities for local businesses. There is a busy pharmacy, a dentist's office and a pediatrician's office close by. Going south a ways is a pet supply store. No pets, just supplies like cages, aquariums, food for any number of creatures, and cigarettes. Yes, this pet store sell cigarettes.

Jalan Hasanuddin continues on south until it curves to the west and joins up with Jalan Imam Bonjol. As I walked this short stretch, I could hear the screams and laughter of children. I looked up and noticed an elementary school. I expected that because of the noise level the kids would be out on recess, but they were safely tucked away inside the classrooms. A large bathroom and tile store sits right at the intersection of Hasanuddin and Imam Bonjol. We've bought a few faucets and a toilet from them. They have a small, but interesting selection of bathroom fixtures, including a large solar water heater. This kind of store wasn't around in Singaraja when we were building each of our houses. To get Western-type building supplies, we had to go down to Denpasar, and even there, the selection was limited. Singaraja has become more Western friendly in terms of construction materials, and, even Indonesians are now buying Western-type furnishings for their homes. Recently we visited a neighbor's house and were surprised to see that they had a Western toilet in their bathroom along with a fancy sink and cabinet set. Across the street is a fairly large building supply store that sells paint, wood, plastic piping and so on.

And just where Jalan Imam Bonjol ends and splits into two streets, Jalan Gajah Mada starts and leads south to Denpasar. Jalan Dr. Sutomo splits off to the west for a short distance and becomes Jalan A. Yani which heads off to Lovina. Right at this busy intersection (noticeable for the large statute that marks the intersection), Singaraja's post office is located. Generally the post office isn't too busy, and it now has a small ATM in the parking lot.

I follow Jalan Dr. Sutomo – it only runs about 150 meters at the most – over to Jalan Diponegoro. Jalan Dr. Sutomo has a mix of small businesses that sell books, household goods and electronics. There is also a small internet shop that I used a few times when my internet connection was out. Perhaps most importantly, Bank Central Asia is here just across from the south entrance to Singaraja's main market. BCA has an ATM machine and inside it's possible to change currency including traveler checks. A police post, a clothing store and a motorcyle store.

As I was walking home, I noticed that I forgot last post to mention all the gold shops on Jalan Diponegoro and the little street Jalan Sawo that heads east off Jalan Diponegoro. So, this covers the closest streets to my house heading east. Next post, I'll take a look at the main road heading out to the east.

Sheikhupura Fort, Pakistan: A Trip Back in Time

I'm going to take a brief break today from my walking tour of Singaraja and journey back to Pakistan where I spent four intense, memorable and rewarding years. One of my teaching responsibilities during the first two years of my teaching in Lahore was a high school anthropology class. Those two years were the only time that I taught an anthropology class to students below university level, so it was a bit of a challenge. But, I had the opportunity to take two of my classes outside the school for field trips around Pakistan. The first trip included a visit to an old fort in the town of Sheikhupura which is jus 35 miles northwest of Lahore.

The city origins date back to 100 BC. Sheikhupura takes its name from the nickname for the Mughal Emperor Jahangir. Alexander the Great supposedly fought a battle here. The city was a focal point for struggles between Muslims and Sikhs for control of the area. The Sikhs eventually won out and held the city until they were defeated by the British sometime around 1850. Sheikhupura became part of Pakistan after Partition. Until then, the city was a mix of Hindu, Muslim and Sikh residents.

It seems uncertain exactly when Sheikhupura Fort was constructed. One argument is that it was built in 1619 for use as a hunting lodge. It is generally accepted that the fort was built by Emperor Jahangir sometime after 1607 and was used as a camp for the Emperor when he was in the area, usually for hunting. Later the fort was used as a home for the Sikh Princess Rani Nikayan; this accounts for many of the lovely frescoes still in existence (although some have been defaced by vandals) of dancing girls, court scenes, wildlife and images of Guru Nanak. The Asian Historical Architecture has an excellent section on Sheikhupura Fort including interior maps and 90 photos. I love this site because I lost most of the photos that I took during our field trip.

According to a news report from 2010, the United States was contributing $850,000 to the cost of renovating the fort. I was looking for some more recent information on the renovation project, but I haven't been able to find any. This is one of the many places that I would enjoy visiting should I be fortunate enough to return to Pakistan one day.

City Life in Bali: A Walking Tour of Singaraja

A few posts ago, I mentioned that I was going to get some needed exercise while exploring the city that I've called home for most of the past 23 years. I've been waiting to get over a bout of pneumonia, but it's been a long time coming – getting well that is – so I've decided that the best way to speed my recovery at this point is to just get out and do some walking. One thing that I've discovered while planning my walking tour of the city on a map is just how big Singaraja actually is. That little discovery has surprised me, I think, just because I've taken the city for granted. It's a fairly common thing for people to fall into comfortable routines, and we miss all of the wonder and the changes around us. So, if I really want to do right by Singaraja, I'm going to be doing a lot of walking over the coming months.

I've been thinking about how best to do my little walking tour, and I finally decided that the best place to start is from home. It makes a lot of sense geographically because we are right at the edge of the world – so to speak – because three meters in front of our house is the Bali Sea and that's where Singaraja ends. So, I'm starting out from home and making little forays farther and farther out from the house.

masjid taqwa, kampung bugis

My first walk is just a little stroll out of Kampung Bugis past Masjid Taqwa down Jalan Diponegoro (Singaraja's central business district – that's probably too grand a title for Jalan Diponegoro, but I like it so why not) then over to Jalan A. Yani and back down Jalan Imam Bonjol to the harbor and home again. The route is traced out on the map of Singaraja for readers who want to locate the areas that I'm writing about on a map. Jalan Diponegoro is the central shopping area and the city's main traditional market is located right in the middle of the street although it can be a bit difficult to discover because the entrance is just a small opening on Jalan Diponegoro – the actual market is between Diponegoro and Jalan Imam Bonjol. The market has fresh fruits and vegetables, meat, spices, clothes and a variety of other dry goods. Really, I don't find it all that interesting, although it does seem to attract a number of tourists who want to see a traditional market.

The street also has electronic stores (I buy all my electronic equipment there), a few small restaurants, shoe stores, a few book stores (including a new one that I just discovered on this walk), a pharmacy, a few doctor's offices, some fishing equipment shops, a small mini-market, two or three clothing stores, the main branch of BII (Bank Internasional Indonesia), a few hair saloons and an assortment of shops selling household goods. The street is almost always crowded with traffic due to the relatively new practice of allowing double parking which causes traffic to back up during the busy shopping hours of the day. I'll get back to discussing Jalan A. Yani in another post.

Jalan Imam Bonjol

Jalan Imam Bonjol is another busy street just to the east of Jalan Diponegoro. It is filled with shops selling a variety of things, such as household goods, furniture, car and motorbike parts, gold jewelry, and children's toys. This street also has an entrance to the main market and a new mini-market. While Jalan Diponegoro is a one way street running north, Jalan Imam Bonjol is a one-way street running south. Most of the buildings are two stories with a shop on the ground floor and a residence on the second story. Running off of Jalan Imam Bonjol to the east and west are several small streets called gangs in Bahasa Indonesia. I haven't even gotten to exploring these streets yet, so it should be clear that my walking tour of Singaraja still has a lot of ground to cover.