12.18.07 evening, Nusa Dua
Guy is on the sofa holding his crotch, watching tv. i am on the veranda (better than patio, balcony or deck) smoking after an amazing dinner of fried shrimp and thai basil chicken that we had delivered to our "apartment." in total the cost was less than $15 and was incredibly delicious.
immediately near me is a fountain. i'm wearing the anthropologie nightgown guy's sister gave me, and drinking red wine. there is no wind. in the near distance a lazy, slow-time band is playing "Brown-eyed Girl" island-style. it is a perfectly still 75-80 degrees out. incense burns at my feet to ward of practically non-existent mosquitos. we feel extraordinarily privileged.
we have arrived in Bali.
at the dinner table we take a bite and stare at each other through still half-lids. a minute goes by. we get a whiff of jasmine in the air and roll our eyes. we have been rewarded an unbelievable gift for making it through 2007. together.
this is more than a honeymoon.
or is it?
maybe i just never imagined myself fortunate enough to experience the honeymoon of dreams. of hollywood movies.
there is no hectic energy in the air. my soul reaches high in the sky to find it, fearful of it, expectant.
it is nowhere.
all is still.
Notes on International Travel
customs, passports, lines upon lines. and i thought flying to baltimore was trying. it is difficult for me. more so than guy. the waiting. the paperwork.
the authority figures.
at the entrance to customs at the Denpasar airport was a sign. it read:
The Penalty for Drug Possession in Bali is DEATH.
i thought of the morphine tablet my friend gave me, sitting purple and shiny in my pillbox with assorted klonopin, benadryl and advil. my usual travel arsenal. i thought of where i could hide the pill on my body. i thought of leaving the line, going into the bathroom and putting it...in a dark place. i asked guy, Are you sure this is OK?! he said Yes, Trust me. (all i can think about is that claire danes movie, Brokedown Palace.)
i trusted him.
it was ok.
i lean back in my chair, breathe in jasmine and incense and consider this moment a good enough reason to have not killed myself already. life is so hard most of the time. we stay alive and we don't know why. it is best not to kill one's self because experiences like this - at a resort in Bali - may come along. you just have no idea.
it makes living feel worth it.
guy has gone to bed. he says he needs to "reset" himself. i want to make him sit with me to languish in the perfection. but i don't. he's so grumpy when tired.
as usual, since leaving SF, i have no idea what time it is.
Verand-ized Reflections
The Thai people truly are the nicest, the kindest, the most sincere people i have ever met. I wonder why?
Buddha?
I am drinking a bottle of french red because a thai steward spilled some food on guy on our flight here. it was no big mess at all. we told him, "no problem."
he brought us a bottle of wine and many apologies.
we have been tipping the cab driver, the bellhop, the concierge $1 bills out of my useless wallet because we haven't figured out how to work the rupiah, the bali money, yet. 10cents doesn't seem right, although the guide says this is the norm. they respond with extra bottled waters, extra-fast service and super-kindness.
wow. a dollar buys all that. it's hard to understand, and hard not to feel weird about it.
12.20.07 - about 12.19
wake up at 7:30am. get breakfast. guy sits at the bar and drinks while i have a 75 minute aromatherapy message by the pool/bar/restaurant.
as i lay down for my $9 massage, the soft warm wind begins to blow horizontally. the massage ladies say to me, "go inside?" they will massage me in our apartment, but it is A/C-cold in there, and i want to be outside. i hesitate. they say "ok, here." i lay face down and i hear the rain pick up. heavier and heavier. i try to relax and not feel guilt that i am being rubbed with oils by women who are getting soaked and having to wrestle the wind under a flimsy straw canopy. i try to remember how relaxing it is at home to hear rain and rest in bed.
but this is a monsoon. like in louisiana, but even more. california never sees anything like this.
torrents.
two women rub delicious jasmine oil into my legs, arms, back and stomach.
75 minutes goes quickly.
i join guy at the bar afterward and begin a day of drinking with hin. we become friends with Asti, the bartender. she's sweet and beautiful like everyone we meet here. she seems to actually like us. we stay for maybe 3-4 hours. we read, smoke, talk, laugh, drink and look out at the indian ocean.
guy says, "this is so relaxing, i can barely stand it."
lovely. like nothing i have ever experienced. we are truly carefree. i try not to be sad right away that it will end. feeling the presence and the absence at the same time...that thing i do when i'm really truly satisfied and happy.
12.20.07
the australians at this resort are strangely shaped. short, stumpish legs. a bit thick in the middle, with short necks. their boisterous, loud voices match the clumsiness of their bodies. (i laugh when i overhear an australian mom at the pool, say to her daughter, "amelia! amelia! don't spend so much time under the water! how must you be feeling now?!" to which amelia says without inflection, "happy.")
the balinese are beautiful. smooth dark skin. sharp bone structure. lean and delicate.
i feel gigantic. almost obese next to them.
here we eat when we're hungry and sleep when we're tired. the nausea i felt in bangkok is gone. i can eat comfortably here. food is delicious and cheap: $2-3 for what would be $9-12 at home. we haven't left the resort yet. that comes later. we are allowed to rest. this has been a difficult adjustment. the idea that doing nothing is the only idea.
we're going to go walk out into the indian ocean now. we have just eaten our lunch. as usual i have no idea what time it is.
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