Monday, January 27, 2014

Scattered Stories

On the afternoon of the morning when I found myself chasing the ducks in the rice fields, I was walking back from yet another unsuccessful query into accommodation when I tumbled into another beautiful Bali moment. A delightful looking lady was being called excitedly by an old Indonesian lady to come and sit upon her bamboo platform and enjoy a coconut. I was then excitedly called by the delightful looking lady to join her in this pursuit. I was much to curious to decline, as the delightful looking lady had one of those open, loving countenances that makes you want to sit by her and talk. This is exactly what we did, while each drinking the coconut water straight from the coconut using hollowed out bamboo straws. What ensued was a precious two hours, where we were entertained by the chattering Indonesian granny who enthralled us with her stories – of which we could not understand a word, or at least very little. Later the Indonesian lady’s son arrived and still more conversation, as he told us about the problems of modern day Ubud and modern day rice farming and duck keeping and the workings of black and white magic. By the time I lifted my bottom from that bamboo seat I had decided that what I had just experienced was special, and best of all, the delightful-looking lady is as delightful as she was at first sight.



I have found accommodation! I am staying in a beautiful house just outside Ubud for the next five nights, until I move into my little magic cottage at the bottom of a garden, my new home for at least the month of February – but more about that later. I am in self-imposed exile for the next few days, as Ubud is a good ten minutes motorbike ride away and since I am motorbike-less for the moment (and certainly not quite qualified to push forth into the Ubud traffic on a scooter), I have to rely on the good-nature of passersby to give me a lift into town. Ubud is chaotic when you are not reading your book against a tree in a rice paddy. It is noisy and littered, crowded and full of cars and scooters and shouting and action. You can usually find a semi-quiet corner in a cafĂ©, but the noise was getting to me and I was desperate to find somewhere to unpack my bag for more than a night and cook my own food. So, I was delighted to wake up this morning and spend the morning grounding myself – with absolutely no plans to venture into the hustle and bustle for at least today. I woke up early though, at 6:20am I was off down the street heading towards the early morning market. Once there I enjoyed picking out some fruit and vege, trying out my limited Indonesian (it mostly consists of the numbers 1 to 10) and being laughed at by the locals as I counted ten tiny onions into my hand – ‘no, I do not want satu kilo’. I then went home and soaked my produce in vegetable cleaner for half an hour, praying over it – hoping that my good vibrations would do away with any baddies. The pictures below are not of the market I went to this morning; I took them last week when I was shown around the early morning Ubud market by some new friends.




Some interesting looking young chicks…you decide how you feel about them…





Snapshots from my evening walk.








Friday, January 24, 2014

Doing what I came to do.

I'm sitting at a little warung, a small Indonesian restaurant next to the rice paddies. I spent my morning wandering, looking for accommodation, trying with all my might to keep my spirits up. I left the place I was staying at 9am and went to a new place I'd found that must be just short of 2km away. I was carrying my 20kg backpack on my back with my smaller one in front of me. It was gruelling work. I thought it was quite funny that I thought it so gruelling, and pushed myself through it, waving aside offers of taxi and motorbike services. I was going to do this myself. You can imagine my disappointment when I arrived at my new 'homestay' to find that the nice room I had seen the day before had been taken and I was shown to a not so nice room - please note my euphemism. I couldn't bear the thought of finding another place to stay, my hips screaming like old women at the very idea.

After bargaining the man down and ensuring breakfast in the morning, I set out for another home-hunting adventure. I walked up a road until I realized that it was too far for me to live anyway and so walked down it, taking a small road to the right which led me down a hill and up the other side. There was a small waterfall doing its thing as I climbed up some stepping stone steps. When I reached the top I realized the path stopped and that I would have to go back. I was feeling quite defeated at this point and saddened by the thought that I would never find a place to live. I took a deep breath and told myself to sit down, enjoy the peace and quiet and just do what I came to Bali to do - chill out a bit.


I climbed up the steps of a rickety looking structure on the edge of the rice field. I realized that my mind was so busy trying to find a home that I was ignoring the reality of my situation. I am in Bali! I am in Ubud! I am sitting, all alone, at the edge of a rice paddy. Isn't that marvellous?! Aren't I on an adventure? Isn't that why I'm here? I need to take a break, quieten my mind and listen to myself - for the first time ever I'm the person who is making all the rules, but I'm so busy chaotically thinking that I'm not being clear with my instructions. Clear Instructions! One of the mantras of teaching, and yet I'm not allowing myself the teacher to teach myself the student appropriately...get what I mean?



With these musings I saw a path of flattened grass to the right, and decided that I should take it. Soon my shoes were off, squelching through the muddy paths of the rice paddies, scaring the ducks away and watching delightedly as they quacked and waddled away from me making duck-feet-in-water noises. Isn't this so lovely? Those ducks are so darn cute and useful, eating all the rice bugs. I was so grateful to be doing what I'd come here to do - to just explore and wander through the rice paddies. I'm so thankful that I can do this while feeling so safe and welcome, the workers in the field waving me on, smiling and not minding that I was shepherding their ducks in the wrong direction. A man showed me a path that goes along the stream and one which will get me back, eventually, to the main road. He told me how the birds and butterflies are beautiful in this jungle place in the morning and that he comes to paint them. I think I'll have to take an early morning adventure to this very spot.