Gallery of the absurd, Kuta

It's rude and irreverent to poke fun at misspellings, baffling grammar, and bizarre juxtapositions in a foreign country. Nevertheless, I really must point out a few more of these, this time from Kuta, before I become so accustomed to such sights that I fail to notice them altogether. We will be moving on to Ubud in a few days, but I doubt that Ubud has absurdities like these to offer. If it has its own, I'll be sure to post them in due course.

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Owing to ignorance, I was at first amused by the doctors' names at this clinic in the midst of a local bar district.  So were some of my Facebook friends, who allowed as how they could at long last warm to a dentist, if only he or she were called Dr. Gigi.  Bill was particularly intrigued.  I later learned the truth, which was nearly as absurd as a dentist with a sassy French name. Dokter Umum means "Dr. Generic," and Dokter Gigi means, literally, the appropriately menacing "Dr. Tooth."

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The staff at Hotel Terrace at Kuta might be the best sports in the entire world.

One of the guards is such a good sport that he has been grilling me daily with Indonesian language lessons.

"Apa kabarrr" ("How are you?") he will begin, and I am expected to answer appropriately. I say I am very good indeed, to which he responds, "Thank you."  This doesn't make a great deal of sense to me. Maybe he is teaching me my next everyday Indonesian phrase.  In any event, I am now expected to reply, "Sama sama" ("You're welcome"), at which he will look quite pleased and give me a thumbs-up.  One day he took me into the uncharted territory of "selamat" greetings, which involve also remembering the words for "morning," "afternoon," "evening," and "night." When this proved too much for me, he relented, grinning broadly. I'm sure he finds my attempts at his language fairly absurd in themselves.

The staff here neither celebrates Christmas nor understands its full meaning. They have their own holidays, one of them honored around the same time of the year.  Nevertheless, they all join in the merriment because this is such a generally jolly season. So, when a heavily bearded Santa appeared at our breakfast table Christmas morning and exclaimed, "Mary Kreesmahss! Apa kabarrr!" I had no doubt who it was and how to respond, lest I receive a lump of coal.

Still, when the wearing of antlers and Santa hats first began in earnest, shortly after we arrived here, it was hard to miss some expressions of sheepish chagrin over our peculiar holiday.

"I hope this hat looks a little cute on me."         "But why am I wearing horns?"

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Asian malls can be a great source of amusement, but those in Thailand have become so westernized that they offer fewer quirks than does Carrefour on Sunset in Kuta. While riding the stepless escalator (a great improvement over our own disappearing trip-me-up steps), I looked out the plate-glass window to my left and saw a herd of small cattle grazing in a pasture below. If I hadn't been watching my step, out of habit, I would have snapped their picture.  Here is a picture of one of these wonderful escalators instead.

At the entrance to the department store on the third level stands a striking WELCOME waxwork that appears anything but welcoming. In fact, he looks like a modern guard dvarapala. With his alarmed, unsmiling expression; taut, upturned toes; and flamboyant "keep-away" hands and stance, he seems to be saying, not "Welcome, you lovely Americans! Come! Spend your money!" but rather "Enter if you dare!" Perhaps he was put there because the culture is so used to setting up guardian statues at entrances everywhere, to keep the demons out. And then someone thought it advisable to soften the message by adding a "welcome" sign as well.

But the men's furnishings department softens no messages in its packaging. This one's for you, you super-sized slob. For your comfort, of course, until you lose that gut. Shame might well be the deterrent that keeps so many Balinese men slim.

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Right up the lane from a nearby Best Western is a down-at-the-heels establishment where people might choose to stay, were it not for its unfortunate name.

And this clumsily phrased sign is still so well understood by everyone that no stray vehicles, with or without flat tires, can ever be found along the alley.