12 December 2013
We went to the Galeria Mall today, so Richard could see a dentist.
We spent some time wandering around stores - I found a great store, the Hypermart, which is sort of an Indonesian KMart - a mix of clothing, souvenirs, groceries, toiletries, etc.
I of course found all sorts of wonderful things, like this little Balinese lion dancer figure, who was part of a display. I never figured out what the product was, but he was just such a cute little thing, I had to take his picture. He looks sort of evil and fierce in a cuddly kind of way.
Luwak coffee - the civet poop coffee - comes with guarantees that it's from WILD civets - as in no civet cruelty. Good news for the civets. I'm still trying to figure out who combs the ground of the coffee farm each day to collect the civet poop. And who figures out if the beans are arabica or robusto. Yeah, and who washes the beans. Inquiring minds want to know.
Other good news - Matahari is no longer a spy, she is now a baker.
I'm not sure if the rainbow cake is safe to eat, however.
The fish displays were gorgeous - and I tried to get a photo of the live fish in the tanks, but they weren't as photogenic (or easy to photograph) as the fish on ice. In such lovely fan arrangements.
When was the last time you saw bananas in so many different colours? And each colour tastes just slightly different!
The dragon fruit is always gorgeous!
Yes, I walk around supermarkets taking photos.
Not my best photo, but we had so much fun being silly with these figures! However, this leads into the story of the day.
Keep in mind that we've been on the road for 15 months now. Some clothing holds up better than others. I could use some new undergarments. As in brassieres. (Men, you can stop reading now.) Now, Balinese women are small - I didn't need to stand on the step to fit my face in this Balinese dancer, I just stood on the floor. I tower over Balinese men, and look like an giant compared to most Balinese women. (I'm all of maybe 5'4", or roughly 1.78 meters.)
So I walk into the lingerie section of the Matahari Department Store. I chat with the sales ladies. I tell them my size in US measurements, and the lady converts it to centimeters. I explain that I don't need the padding or moulded cups with layers of foam - but that I do need underwires (and I explain why, which leads to fits of giggles on the sales lady's part, because the stupid bras tend to not stay put otherwise and I had to sort of act this part out). Anyway, the ladies gather several items, which I try on in the fitting room. And these bras are works of art - I have never seen such decorative bras. Black with pink embroidered flowers. Silver grey with flowers and sequins. Lavender with a few rhinestones. Deep grey with silver embroidery. Absolutely lovely bras!
Now, trying on bras is NO ONE's favourite activity. Add in that we have this communication gap. And in the trying on, nothing fits. The proportions are wrong. I don't need depth of cup, I need width or distance between the ends of the wire (as in the measurement around). There's a fundamental difference between the tiny-boned Indonesian body that seems to need padding and maximizing, rather than the big-boned and square eastern European body I have inherited from my ancestors. As I said, the proportions are just wrong. Things might FIT, but they don't FIT - wires are in the wrong place, parts aren't supported, other parts are just in the wrong place - this just isn't working.
I brought everything back out, thanked the ladies, explained that things didn't fit right even though they fit.
So yes, adventures in bra shopping in Bali. An interesting experience, if a little frustrating.
I think some internet shopping may be in order.