Party Time in Lombok

When you’re travelling for several months on end, you need to give yourself a vacation. I know it sounds odd - to need a vacation when you’re on vacation. The fact is that travelling independently is work. There’s a lot of planning, stress around the unknown, mentally coping with culture clash and quickly reading the vibe of a place. So while we were regrouping in Singapore one December after a few months independent travel in China, Dan sourced us a flight and resort package on the Indonesian island of Lombok.

Qunci Villa, Lombok Indonesia

Lombok is the second of the chain of islands east of Java, Bali being the first one. Although never as popular or rich as Bali, Lombok has been developing modestly as a tourist destination since 2000, first attracting surfers and scuba divers, and later a small upscale resort crowd. 

Though separated from Bali by only a twenty-five mile channel, it’s an important division. Abruptly, the ecology changes from the lush, tropical fauna in Bali, to a more arid, Australasian environment. Still, the island is as beautiful as anywhere in the volcano rich ring of fire that is Indonesia. Mindful of course that you can be blown to smithereens at any time – Lombok’s Rinjani volcano erupted last in 2010 – locals are nevertheless relaxed, perhaps fatalistic. Expats, on the other hand, party hard.

The Infinity Pool at the Villa

We settled into our bungalow at the Qunci Villas, appointed with the traditional “Balinese” shower, a walled but open-air and spacious washroom. A large, comfy day bed outfitted our porch from where we could enjoy glorious sunsets. The pool was separated from the beach by neatly trimmed hedges. On a hammock or deck chair, I conducted my business, negotiating with a tout for yet another tablecloth to feed my obsession for textiles. On a clear day, you can observe Bali's volcano peaking out above the clouds on the other side of the Strait of Lombok. Our companions in the small resort were mostly European, Singaporean, a few Americans, and a Canadian woman and her daughter. The music was an artsy selection of mellow jazz and blues, in harmony with the environment. Even the gecko seemed to catch the mood, hanging out on a pillar, sleepily checking out the guests with big, soulful eyes.

"Joy", Indonesia Idol 2004

Our timing could not have been better. It was approaching Christmas and staff were busy preparing decorations out of flowers and ribbons and they were all abuzz about the foreign owner who would be visiting soon. The office was looking like Santa's workshop.

Each year, the resort’s American owner returned to Lombok at this time and threw a big Christmas party, one for adults and another, two days later, for children. Everyone who worked for the resort or did business with the resort, or who were family of those who worked for the resort, was guaranteed a wonderful time.

We met the mystery man one afternoon in the office when he was going over some records with his staff. After an exchange of pleasantries, and some sincere compliments on the design of the resort, Scott invited us to the big event which would be held the next night at his private villa up the hill. His architect and interior designer was coming and we could meet them. “And you will love the infinity pool at the villa. You sit in that pool and you’re facing Bali and in August, the sun sets directly behind the volcano.”

Then Scott warned us: "I'm bringing in entertainment to the party and it will be a little naughty."

Dan and I didn’t know what to make of Scott’s warning other than it sounded intriguing and when you’re travelling months on end, we take advantage of every social opportunity and keep an open mind.

We thanked Scott for the invitation. I returned to our bungalow and started pulling out all the clothes in my suitcase. My baggy travel pants just wouldn't do. Suddenly I wished I had cruise wear. Thankfully, I had been shopping in Singapore and had stashed my new clothes at the bottom of my case intending on mailing them home when we would fly back. For his part, Dan dashed off to the housekeeper's office to beg for the return of his clean laundry in time for the party.

I don't know how many people came to the party, possibly a hundred people. By the time we left the party, I was in no shape to count; any estimate taken at that time would need to be divided by two. Dan and I mingled around the splendid patio, its lovely porches cantilevered into the side of the mountain. We came together to compare notes. It appeared that all of Lombok's tourism industry was there: diving shop owners, restaurateurs, drivers, guides, as well as local celebrities and political types. There were many westerners, retired or self-exiled to Lombok or Bali, old and young, well heeled or not, living in nearby gated communities. Someone told Dan one could build a splendid retirement house in Bali these days for $65,000. What looked like a regiment of uniformed security guards were stationed around the property and lined the enormous driveway and parking lot. Hot and cold appetizers circulated continuously; attendants busily refilled glasses. At midnight, the party was moving to a disco hall downtown, booked for invited guests only, but we opted out of that invitation. On our way out, attendants made sure every guest left with a gift, a potted orchid and basket of chocolate and ginger cookies.

So what about the “naughty entertainment”?

Santa showed up in drag. Performing in a flawless Dame Edna style, our emcee was flanked by a dozen elves dressed in skimpy red shorts. Santa lip-synced a number of seasonal songs and then was upstaged by a seriously beautiful drag queen who belted out some Judy Garland standards. The bantering between the two of them was worth the price of admission (if there had been one), but then the real show started when Scott introduced "Joy", the winner of Indonesia Idol of 2004. This woman, a real one, was a dynamite entertainer and her opening Christmas song brought tears to my eyes.

Following any fabulous entertainment, I'm compelled to give it my big whistle with two fingers, but I hesitated. I’ve been embarrassed before by putting out my whistle inappropriately. For instance, you don’t whistle in the Colon Opera House in Buenos Aires unless you truly want to boo the lead singer. Dan, who read my hesitation correctly, turned around to Dame Edna who was standing behind him at that moment and asked if, in Indonesia, whistling would be understood as approval or not. Dame Edna replied: "Hon, I should say that anything goes around here. Haven't you noticed?"

Scott tried his best to keep a low profile that evening, and pulled himself back whenever he was dragged on stage by different performers. Still, I think I detected something of the soul of our generous host that night when I observed him singing along with Joy’s rendition of Whitney Houston’s blockbuster hit.

"At least I'll live as I believe
No matter what they take from me
They can't take away my dignity
The greatest love of all
Is easy to achieve
Learning to love yourself
It is the greatest love of all."