Crazy Last Days in Bali

I’m at the airport reflecting on the strangeness of my last few days in Bali. Having just found a hair (ugh) in my gluten free pancakes, I am grateful to be heading to another place. Not that there are a shortage of hairs in food anywhere in the world, but the hygiene is lacking here. And also, I’ve seen people in Western countries not wash their hands after the bathroom (particularly men), but to have never seen a person washing their hands here is nauseating because I eat the food they are preparing. The wifi is not working at the airport, and I have to admit I am desiring of some super modernity.

Last night at close to 4am, I awoke to an earthquake. Disoriented, I tried to assess what was happening – was this reality or part of my dream world? I realized I definitely was shaking and I sprung to alertness, especially being on the second floor. I’ve been watching a building being erected next door these last few weeks, and if no uncertain terms are these buildings not earthquake-proof. Once the shaking subsided, I quickly tried to do an internet search to see if there was any posts about an earthquake or warnings of natural disaster. Nothing came up; too soon, I’m sure. I tried to go back to sleep, but then there was a large bang and I awakened again. It was such a strange night, not being able to sleep until 130am, being awakened by a mosquito which I killed to find my own blood splattered everywhere, the quakes, and then my alarm that it was time to finish packing to head the airport.

In the morning, I checked and there in fact was an earthquake, a magnitude of 7.4, whose epicenter was north of Bali, followed by aftershocks, which must have somehow caused the bang and my second awakening after the first quake. Thankfully, no tsunami warnings.

(Warning: animal injury). A few days ago, as I was on the back of a motorbike heading to my guesthouse, a dog suddenly bolted out in front of tons of traffic and right in the path of a white van that ran it over (it stopped but the dog came out of nowhere). It was the most horrifying moment, but I am hopeful that the dog is okay. It hit the car right in the center and rolled under the car and then popped up on the other side with a cry and ran away back into the buildings. My heart burst with alarm and sorrow for the dog, though I was expecting to see broken limbs and bleeding and then not know what to do to help it, and feel helpless. But, the dog did run off somewhere, and so we have to hope it’s okay.

Last night, I came back to the guesthouse after a spin class and stopped at the front desk to settle the bill, but the regular evening keeper, Ary, was not there. Dora, a newcomer to the guesthouse compound from a different island in Indonesia who doesn’t speak English was manning the desk. I used my translator to ask if Ary would be back and she pointed to her belly. I thought maybe Ary was at the doctor, but with some translator support she told me Ary had already gone into labor! This morning, Ketut, the owner, video called her and I got to see her beautiful little girl who has yet to be named, and to give her the “love” symbol with my thumb resting over my pointer finger in the shape of a tiny “L”. I said I looked forward to seeing her again one day knowing that I very most likely will not.

Somehow, I always manage to collect a bunch of “stuff” wherever I go and it is exhausting. This time, I had to make three trips downstairs to reception to give the ladies bags of sneakers, clothes, a pillow, various toiletries, food, etc. But, I did it, I packed my life into one rolling suitcase, one duffle bag, and a small backpack. I ordered the gojek car and it arrived in record speed.

Nofi, along with Ary, is the other person who is at the guesthouse the most and takes care of cleaning. She was suddenly arriving later this morning (instead of her usual 8am), so I did not get to see her before I left. Ketut was there, she helped bring my things downstairs, greeted the taxi when it arrived, and as I filled my bottle with water and made sure I had the last of my things, she stood there watching me. I went up to her and thanked her and as she thanked me, I noticed she was wiping her eyes. I hugged her and she was tearing. I was so shocked by this. Ketut, along with her husband who I rarely have seen, is the owner of the guesthouse and though I’ve always said hello to her when I’ve seen her, I did not think we were close. So, to see her cry upon my departure was something that I tried to take in and understand. I realized I didn’t have a picture of any of the ladies, and it was now impossible to have one with Ary or Nofi, but I could have one with Ketut. So, I took a selfie of us, said that hopefully I would return and got into the car. The driver pointed out that she was crying and all I could do was keep waving and blowing kisses. She followed us out of the entryway and stood there as the driver slowly reversed back down the driveway. It seemed like a long time for her to stand there wiping her tears staring. When we had finally made it to the street, I rolled down the window and we waved to each other again a final time.

Again I’m not sure what to make of it. Is it possible to have an effect on someone and not realize it? Of course it is, but I count myself as someone who would be able to notice that a connection with another has been forged and that they feel attached on some level, being in somewhat close proximity with them for almost three months. It’s also possible that my leaving reminded her of other key experiences in her life and so together they brought this deep emotion, such as every guest that stays, no matter for how long, always eventually leaving.

I suppose I’d be lying if I didn’t say that perhaps it’s the impact of a certain type of energy field I brought with me. I spent so much time there and was doing personal energy work and work with the island that I wonder if it was felt by her. Maybe this is what I’d like to believe, or maybe this is how it seems. I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but what is the difference between arrogance or inflation and reality. Can’t I ever say anything powerful about myself? Is that my only choice – to either be relegated to an egomaniac or to keep quiet and never acknowledge that I have any abilities? If that were the case, we would never expand as beings.