Why did the chicken cross the road? To get the heck out of Bali.

I’m told it’s hard to makes jokes in a second language. For me it’s hard to make jokes period, in English, English or English. Words, ideas, humor just doesn’t always translate.  But then we have the people of Bali… on a small island, renowned for its cultural gifts, there is one less recognized art form they’ve mastered - quick wit, one-liners and deadpan delivery… and they do it all in English.

It first happens the night we arrive. In an open-air restaurant, punctuated by tiki-torches and paper lanterns, my friend asks the waitress, “What does the chicken curry come with?”

She looks at us straight-faced and replies, “Chicken.”

We smother our smiles until she’s gone, then giggle over our Bali Moon cocktails.  But the next night we realize the joke is on us. Once again we order a chicken dish, and once again we receive a wise-crack in return.

“Ah…yes,” our waiter replies, glancing out to the stone courtyard. “The chicken is still running. You wait.”

This time we caught the secret smile.

Bali is a cultural oddity in the Indonesian archipelago of about 17,000 islands. They’re a unique hold-out of Hinduism and their native Balinese language surrounded by a literal sea of Islam and other more dominant tongues. Mixed in is a robust heritage of spirituality, art and culture. That flair for artistry and aesthetics is what first attracted Dutch visitors a hundred years ago and continues to draw tourists today. From batik, to dance, to stone carvings and jewelry, Bali is a center for creative exchange. Art classes, galleries and theatrical performances dominate, why shouldn’t they be comedians too?

A few days later we’re driving on a private tour, passing tropical fruit trees on a winding mountain road, when a stray animal bursts out in front of us.

“Chicken!” I yell.

“Sa-TAAAAY!!” responds the driver, licking his lips and playfully revving the engine.

The truth is chickens are everywhere. Mama hens round up their chicks on the hard packed earth of a rice farmer’s home, others peck coconut husks down the cities’ side alleys while roosters line the roadside in rattan cages.

“For fighting.” Our guide explains. There’s silence as my friend and I uncomfortably consider what he means. Ugh.

“Is cock-fighting that common?”

  

"Yes," he replies. Then he turns to us with a grin, "because we have no casinos!”