ROOM 327

Paul Spencer Sochaczewski came over for breakfast yesterday (Balinese pancakes, mango, papaya, eggs, applejuice, peach tea - Thank you, Dayu!) and mentioned that on the way to the airport he wanted to stop by the Inna Grand Bali Beach Hotel in Sanur to visit Room 327. My ears instantly perked up. I had first read about the room in a book recounting Bali's tales of magic. The story involved Indonesia's first president, the charismatic and revered Bapak Soekarno; a mermaid goddess, Kanjeng Ratu Kidul (Goddess of the Southern Ocean); and a devastating fire. Here's what happened.

The Inna Grand Bali Beach Hotel was built at the inspiration of Indonesia's then president, Soekarno, a firm believer of spirituality and the supernatural. At the start of the construction, Soekarno pledged to dedicate one room in honor of the Goddess Kanjeng Ratu Kidul. However, before the completion of the hotel in 1966, Soekarna was overthrown and the pledge broken.

On Wednesday, January 20, 1993 over 400 guests and 1000 staff members, as well as, the rest of Bali were shocked when a fire, which started on the ground floor, raced upwards through the hotel's 10 floors. At one point huge tongues of flame leapt from every window in the hotel, black smoke poured from the building and darkened the sky over Sanur. Firefighters were able to see that all the guests and staff in the hotel were led to safety and to limit the blaze to the main tower. It was two days before the building had cooled and the smoke had cleared sufficiently for officials to enter the building and assess the damage. The tower was ravaged and there seemed to be no corner left untouched by the flames. Already observers felt that Bali's magic had seen to it that there had been no serious injuries in what was undoubtedly Bali's biggest fire. But there was more to come.

When workers opened the scorched door of Room 327, they were stunned to find that the room was virtually untouched by flames. While the heat in adjacent rooms had been so intense as to melt the steel railings on the balconies, Room 327 still had linen on the bed and curtains on the windows! There were glasses and bottles of Aqua on the table as if ready for the next guests, bathrobes hung in the closet, and there were pictures on the wall. Even though every telephone in the hotel had melted in the blaze, Room 327's phone seemed ready for its next call. It was as if the goddess Kanjeng Ratu Kidul rose from the churning waters and said, "Okay, people. Listen up. See that room there? Number 327. That's mine."

The hotel was rebuilt, but Room 327 was left the way it was found and has become a shrine in homage to Kanjeng Ratu Kidul and, strangely enough, to Bapak Soekarno, as well.

Since Paul had written a chapter on Kanjeng Ratu Kidul in his book, "The Sultan and the Mermaid Queen," he had made arrangements with the hotel management to see the room for himself. No way I was going to pass up this chance, so I said, "I'm going with you." And Phil said, "Me too." And off we went in search of magic.

Soekarno may have been divinely guided in building the hotel (it heralded Bali's future as a tourist destination), but damn, it's an ugly thing. Never mind, we're here for the room. Our guide is Indra, a friendly woman who is in charge of visitors. She apologizes for her limited knowledge of the room. She is standing in for Ibu Agung Okawati, the priestess who is in charge of the shrine but who is off preparing for Galungan, one of Bali's most significant of holy days.

We take the elevator up to the third floor, step out, turn the corner and almost immediately stand in front of the double door leading to Room 327. We take off our sandals and step into a time warp.

To be continued...