I'm not here to Eat, Pray, Love.

You are here.  Almost.

My first Balinese experience aside from the 29 hours of travel it took to get to Indonesia, was a Bali guy spilling his beer directly into my carry-on bag two hours before I landed on the island.  It was 9 a.m., he just sat there perplexed and after I got him to get up so I can get my things out of the beer soup, he gave me two paper towels to clean up the mess.  I was definitely upset, but seeing as this is a spiritual/mental/healing trip I decided to use a new train-of-thought on the situation.  Sure I was upset, but I knew he didn’t mean to and he probably felt worse than I did.  Am I going to call him to be my driver?  Nope.  I have no business being in a vehicle with a person who chooses to drink at 9 a.m.  The person who was actually supposed to be my driver never showed, and I knew this was another challenge the universe had given me.  I asked for the challenge of change and she is giving it to me faster than I can fix, swallow or expect.  It’s interesting to me what your brain will do when it’s faced with a new perspective in which it is forced to adjust.  It’s almost like there is a net over your beliefs and what you think you can comprehend or know in your world, but when you decide to change it; either by becoming sober, changing where you live, who you love or buying a one-way ticket to paradise your brain and your spirit does something interesting – it’s stretches itself to allow that new perspective, way of thinking or surrounding into your world.  It’s like each person has a protect web covering them and what they know and the second that person decides to allow something else in, the web stretches to include that thing, which the person is now able to attempt to process. 

Run of the mill "wing shot".

I’ve not even been in Bali for 24 hours yet but I’ve already felt the stretch of what I asked for, and what I’m receiving.  Those two things never look the same, by the way.  (Small pause to apply sunscreen – at 7 a.m. the sun is on full blast).  My “hotel” for example is actually a “home-stay”.  I wondered what the difference is and now I know.  My room is absolutely gorgeous; I have my own balcony with a fantastic teak patio set that would go for $1,000 in Pottery Barn, and my source of light is a single little bulb (the kind Americans n pay $15 for at their stylish restaurants and bars) hanging down from a dust fabric-covered cord.  My bathroom sink is on my balcony so when I wash my face and brush my teeth it’s anyone’s business.  But I don’t care.  My bed linens are covered in a traditional woven blanket.  It’s thin, but at this very moment it must be 90 degrees outside so I’m fine with that. The bed is enormous and hard as a rock but I don’t care.  Bathroom is literally a square room, tiled top to bottom and as soon as you walk in, you are actually in the shower.  I’m thankful for the western toilet but honestly I don’t even know if I would care if it wasn’t.  There are no towels, there is no toilet paper and no mini-fridge.  These are the clues that led me to think “home-stay” means you’re literally staying at home.  Get your own towel, toilet paper and the mini-fridge isn’t happening.  But what it’s lacking in amenities it makes up for in absolute serene beauty and a real Bali experience.  My balcony faces two things: East, and a small jungle valley full of roosters, chickens and a little creek running through it.  That means I saw the sunrise this morning.  And roosters were crowing at the same time.  I smelled the smoke from a family burning their old offerings to the gods and I watched at the hot sun took away the morning mist.  Even now as I write this there is traditional Balinese music making its way to my balcony, there are birds chirping, ducks quacking, some sort of locusts or crickets singing and water making its way down the mountain and eventually to the ocean.

On my "porch" looking into my room.

I finally figured out why there is a little sprayer handset next to the toilet, and it’s not to rinse down the inside of the bowl.  It’s to rinse your ass.  This was explained to me today while I had my first Bintang (Balinese beer) at a very very local warung.  It was actually an Aussie who filled me in, you see the locals as well as several other Asian countries don’t use toilet paper to wipe, they use the spray hose.  A spotlessly clean bum every single time.  Amazing. 

Today I spent quite a bit of time at the little French café down the road.  They have Wi-Fi and for some reason we still don’t so I took my research and my coffee habit to this open-air two-story stucco building.  A few hours later I had slightly more knowledge of the lay of the Island and I had also found what could possibly work as a running route.  Running is not a typical sport in Ubud; the sidewalks are tiny and treacherous and the streets are even more deadly but I knew there had to be something else besides some sort of gym with a treadmill.  So after some research I set off on an adventure to find my (running) path.  It’s funny how you search and search and search for something and halfway through your search you realize…you’ve found it.  That’s exactly what happened on my run today.  I was walking down this tiny road for ages, looking for this running path and all along I was right on top of it practically slapping it in the face with every flip of my Havianas.  I’m already beginning to see if you ask for something…a running path, to see the terraced rice paddies, a drink, they all seem to pop up exactly when you need them.  Take Coco Wayan for example.  I was rounding the bend of my unknown running path when I saw Coco Wayan fanning a little mosquito fire.  He literally popped up as if on cue for his scene and invited to me to his little garden area for a fresh young coconut.  $1. He pulled it out of a basket and hacked into it right there in front of me, splashing both of us with fresh coconut water.  

Organic "straws" made of bamboo, ylang ylang oil, coconut oil, coconuts , offerings and vanilla bean.  All for sale at Coco Wayan's stand.

It was amazing.  He showed me his organic farming “We only use cow sheet, not spray or growth products” and explained to me that the rice he planted 10 days ago would be ready in 100 days.  They cut off the stalks at the bottom and beat the end of it against a basket, releasing all of the rice grains from the plant.  He then showed me his full stock of freshly planted herbs including ginger, turmeric, ginseng, lemongrass, vanilla bean, oregano, small eggplant, mint and more.  Coco Wayan told me I could come up there anytime – he doesn’t have to be there- and I can meditate, get some quiet away from the scooters and just think.  He said people do it all the time.  This is the typical personality and mindset of the Balinese people.  Or at least the one they present to us.  They’re happy – they have a big toothy grin on their face and they are happy to give you a glimpse into their world.  I think that’s the best way to travel; find the locals and talk to them, sit with them, have coffee with them and buy something from them.  Most of all, show gratitude and respect.