Yesterday I spent a lazy afternoon at Casa Luna, a beautiful restaurant overlooking a garden…drinking bottled water, eating yummy organic food and writing two blogs posts in between emails to friends and family.
It was blissful.
I sat in this cafe for over 4 hours and just ate, wrote and breathed. It was the perfect way to spend an afternoon.
Then I came back to go swimming before Ketut picked me up to meet the Bali dog lady at 5:00pm. While I was swimming a hotel staff member came down and said, “Kristeen, you know Ketut?
“Yes, he’s coming here at 5:00 to pick me up.”
“He not coming today, Kristeen. He with family. He call and say he do it another day.”
So I just swam and read while waiting for my next appointment which was to go with Fia to the Bali birthday party.
She picked me up on her motorbike (no helmet):
and I hung on while she skillfully navigated the road that was filled with cars, motorbikes, dogs and people.
“You scared of motorbike, Kristeen?”
“A little,” I admitted.
“I drive only 40,” she says pointing to the speedometer.
I’m thinking: Fia! Get both hands on the handlebars NOW.
But I don’t say that.
Instead I listen as she says, “I drive slowly for you, Kristeen. Because you scared. Usually I drive 80.” Again she points to the speedometer as we fly around a corner.
“Thanks for driving slowly for me, Fia.”
“You’re welcome. I no want you to be scared. I want you to be happy. Have fun.”
I breathe and try to dispell any thoughts of being injured or maimed by any one of the motorbikes and cars coming at us and, thankfully, passing us (albeit within inches of my leg).
We arrive at the birthday party and it is in a church. A Christian church. The only Christian church on the whole island of Bali.
Fia tells me the story while we dismount from the motorbike and walk toward the church.
“I Javanese. Not Balinese. Balinese is Hindu. I no like Hindu. Too many rituals, takes too much time. I Catholic but no Catholic church in Bali. So I come here. Started by an American woman. Today is her birthday.”
We walk in and all of these Indonesian dark heads turn to look at me, the only other white woman besides the woman who started the church. They smile. Kids point at me and whisper behind curved hands to their moms.
“Look at that whitey girl,” I’m imagining them saying.
There is a sermon going on that we’ve interrupted so we quickly sit down.
The sermon (in Indonesian) goes on for about an hour and is complete with singing.
At one point during a song the American woman gets up and grabs my arm and we go dancing around the church. People are clapping and laughing.
It’s pretty fun.
Then everyone sings Happy Birthday to her (in Indonesian) and she cuts the Balinese cake (coned-shaped saffron rice) and the American cake (in the shape of a Bible).
Then we eat.
Oh my Lord. The food!
Fish satay skewers. Spice-rubbed shredded chicken over rice. Spicy pork. String beans with something (I’ve no idea what was in it but it was delicious).
I ate and made friends with 6-year old Balinese girl named I-You. It means ‘pretty’ in Balinese.
She had a mischievous way about her. A little rascal, which I liked. She tried to teach me Indonesian and would giggle hysterically at my pronunciation.
My friend Fia told me, “I-You says she wants you to come to her house.”
“I would like that. Tell her I would like that.”
Fia did and I-You and I just grinned wordlessly at one another.
We got on the motorbike after that and Fia called behind to me, “You want to go to listen to some jazz?”
“I want to get a massage now.”
“Massage! Kristeen! It’s 9:30pm. You no find a place for massage this time of night.”
“There is a place by my hotel,” I say.
So she drops me off and we make a plan for her to come on Friday to swim at 1:00 and then we’ll go on a motorbike ride.
I get a massage and fall asleep on the table.
“Kristeen. Hallo. Hallo, Kristeen. You wake up now.”
I wake up and then walk back to my hotel room and promptly fall asleep and wake up at 5am as I have all mornings so far.
Still on a bit of a jet lag.
Today at 10am I go on an all-day Bali tour with my spiritual teacher / taxi driver Wayan.
That should be fun and enlightening.