Family

Amazing how life works. Here I am on the brink of returning to my home in the States, returning to my family. And all this time without realizing or meaning to, I have been creating a family here. And now I am leaving them. The irony.

Yesterday, I had the honor of attending a family temple blessing ceremony. Putu invited me to be present as she considers me family. I consider her my Balinese sister, I am her American sister. Anyway Putu was worried that the temples wouldn't be finished before I left. She wanted me to be a part of this very spiritual and beautiful ceremony. So she has been working hard these past few weeks. And it was quite elaborate. It takes time to prepare all the offerings, decorate the temples, cook the food, build the yard up, etc. So I was very excited and a little nervous.

We were there for hours, as it is an intricate process. Finally after everyone helped prepare the temples and offerings, the village priest blessed them. Next there were a series of rituals performed and finally the family was blessed. To be a part of placing the dirt, to symbolically wash the grounds and to be blessed alongside the family (sitting in our sarongs with the eight year old guiding me as to which flower to hold above my head with each prayer) was powerful.  It made me feel so special. I was happy and sad at the same time. Happy to have created this wonderful connection and sad to be leaving so soon.

Although two years does not seem that short of a time, it really is when you realize how long you have known your family. How long does it take to create new roots deep enough you consider them to be family? We often take our own family for granted. I know this. But when you are invited into a new one, it is a reminder as to how beautiful and precious family can be: the close bond, the understanding, the support, the unconditional love. It makes me appreciate all the people in my life, family and all.

I had no idea that a little over two years ago, I would be experiencing these feelings. But I now know Bali will always be a part of my life. I will return and be present with this sweet corner of the world. What a gift.

Funny that I have created this extended family across the globe. I just was missing my Nepali bai (brother) and his family the other day, realizing now it will be at least a year before I see them again. Maybe I should be careful where I travel or choose to live next. If I make it too far away from the US-Nepal-Bali track, the plane tickets are going to add up.

Bali Reflections

Transitions are hard for me. Anyone who knows me well, has heard me say that. And now I am in transition again: Bali to the US. It is surreal to say the least, as Bali and Bend, Oregon are diabolically opposed places: dry/wet, desert/tropics, cold/hot, no traffic/asian traffic, critter free/critters everywhere, etc. Bali is so far from the US, that I am convinced a person needs the 30hour crazy airport shuffle full of strangers, endless airplane movies, little sleep, security lines, etc to make the leap possible. That 'otherness' of the airports allows you to feel the difference between the two worlds. It's like a long travel portal. Once on the other side, you can breathe in the hot, humid air or the dry crisp air, depending. But if I didn't have that long travel, I think it would mess with my head.

So as I make this transition, I still have a few weeks here in Bali for reflection.

Here is a current story:

The other day, I was given the wonderful opportunity to visit my friend Putu's family near Tabanan, about one hour north of Ubud, where I live. We got a late start that day, about 1:30pm from my house in the Penestanan rice fields. First we had to go back to Putu's house to pick up her family. They all squeezed on her motorbike (husband, nine & four year old and Putu) while I sat on mine. A family of four on one and me on the other. Very odd, but she would have it no other way. I was the guest and should have the comfortable ride. We detoured up through the north via some tourist spots: a large market, rice fields, a temple, etc. Each time Putu wanted to stop and show me, I said let's keep going to your parent's house. I didn't want to be out too much past dark, which gave us limited time on the equatorial time clock: 6am sunrise, 6pm sunset. But all was good since we were on the scenic short cut! Little did we all know that the back way road was under construction duress (maybe never get fixed) and the entire road was jutted, jagged, potholes and small boulders. No cement. It was an hour on this road. My internal organs were shaken and not stirred. We finally arrived to a another small back road in this village, two hours after we left my house. I parked and quickly checked my tire. My suspicions were right: I had a flat tire. I think the last steep uphill road, with no flat surface but scary, muddy-covered trail through rubble sealed the leaky tire to rupture. What a ride! Putu kept apologizing since she didn't know about the road conditions. But not to worry. It was an experience, right?

But we made it! The family was very excited to see me: mom, dad, sisters, nieces, nephews, brother-in-law, grandma, neighbors, etc. It was an event. We sat and made introductions and shook hands. As I have contracted a parasite recently, I wasn't feeling too well and refused more than a nibble of food. I was offered banana pancakes, rice, chicken, coffee, sweets, etc.  I never refuse meals when visiting relatives in any home. But I had too. They were sad about that. It was a short and sweet visit, although only a few relatives spoke any English, so it was me playing with the kids. As usual. They make the easiest conversation without actually saying anything: just smiles, giggles, hugs and little games. The house was small compared to many Balinese family compounds I have visited. And I was disturbed that everyone just tossed their garbage onto the ground. As I peered over the yard, down to the jungle I saw a huge pile of rubbish, lending to the smell permeating the house. That and the pigs, made for a pungent afternoon visit.

With darkness approaching, I asked about my motorbike (dad and husband went to fix as the inner tube had exploded) and all was ready to go. We decided to not return the scenic way, but head right through traffic and busy streets. Maybe one hour home? That wasn't thrilling to hear but a better alternative than the internal-organ-scrub-in-reverse way. And then it started to rain.

We headed off, with me diligently following, weaving between crazy Bali traffic in intersections that seemed immensely bigger than in a car. It was hard to keep up but I realized that if I didn't, I would be lost. I knew how to ask directions for my way home, but an hour of navigating through the capital city was daunting to say the least. And it was raining. And dark. Hard to see, slippery streets, covered in a poncho and trying to see through the droplets smashing against my helmet visor. Once I strategically pulled up to Putu at a stop light, (difficult with motorbikes squeezing into every crevice and crack in between cars and the traffic, making it bulge into all the lanes) and asked if we were close. Not even. So I pretended I was in a high speed chase and my life depended on staying close to this motorbike ahead of me: very James Bond-ish. It made it more fun. And eventually the rain slowed down and the streets became more familiar. And then we pulled over, said goodbye and I continued on to my home, another 25 minutes away but on streets that were dark, dry and quieter.

I said I would come back and visit again soon. But maybe we could leave in the morning and return before dark?

Two months in the 2nd time around!

So much has transpired since I last wrote June 15. After a wonderfully fulfilling trip home, I am two months into teaching my 2^nd year at GS. If you had asked me a year ago “why the long face?” I would not have made a joke about a horse in a bar. I would have shared my woes, listing all the myriad of reasons I was slightly on edge. I can chock it up to a few things: adjusting to life overseas as a singleton, figuring out absolutely every little thing needed about eating, sleeping, living, the climate, the bugs, the traffic stress, the workload, the challenging environment, etc.

But now, with a year of adjusting under my belt and a beautiful new classroom, I am much happier. I am glad that I am here and thankful that I stayed on. Life is good. Here are a few reasons:

I have a great community of friends. It takes a time to create a community and I really appreciate the friends that I have made. I miss the ones that have already moved on from Bali and I am thankful for the new ones that have appeared. Life is like that in the international world: people come and go. But now I‘ve even adjusted to that. And I’ve learned to cherish what I have when I have it.

I really enjoy teaching this year. All the long days, sweat (buckets of it) and hard work last year have paid off. I have a handle on what I am teaching, whom exactly I am teaching and how to teach it effectively in this school (remember no walls or windows). I brought more material with me from the States and it is a blessing to have that and what I created last year. Yeah for 2nd years!

I can laugh at the little things. For example, my kitties brought me a snake the other day (every day I pull something from their mouths) and dropped it in my living room. I walked downstairs and saw it in the dimly lit room, did a little freak-out dance and after discovering it wasn’t poisonous or very alive, I laughed. Out loud. I still kept the bowl over it until morning and then I laughed at myself again.

I love where I am living. With an affordable little house, a swimming pool, great neighbors & landlords, I feel lucky. I also have a wonderful helper (pembantu) who came every day when I was laid up for a week (tore my tendon on the bottom of my foot playing Ultimate) and cooked, cleaned, told me stories, gave me a massage, helped me learn Bahasa Indonesia and even gave me pedicure. That and my immediate community was supportive and kind bringing me boxed wine, providing company, loaning movies, giving motorbike rides, etc. And the rice fields are beautiful right now.

I finally acknowledge that exercise is the key to my stress relief. After school I go to the little gym and afterwards I am a much better and happier person.  Last year I was overwhelmed and couldn’t figure out how to exercise between the workload and commute. Now, if I decide to do laps in my little bean-shaped pool, (it takes a while) or go to the gym, I am feeling better about everything.

I have now experienced a motor-bike accident and can say I don't want another one. It was all my fault and very minor at that but it made me realize (again) to always be present while riding. I had my crutches sticking out the back from my saddle bags when I made a hasty turn. The nice Balinese couple in front of me were struck by my crutches and my poor judgement and we all slowly went down. After pulling ourselves up, and blocking traffic we settled on a price for their wounds and scratched motor bike. Awful feeling but big big lesson on my part. Slow and steady. I gave up the crutches after that too. 

I am excited about learning to surf this year. Last year it was learning to dive and experience the island and I did. Now a plan is in motion and as soon as the foot heals, I am on a board in the water. In fact, I leave tomorrow on a well-planned and organized Middle School Elective Week. My group goes to a surf camp in Java! Not great timing with a torn tendon, but we’ll see.

Pictures to follow soon.

Walking Pigs and Stroking Cocks

Yesterday was a great day of accomplishments and humor. My G8 kids finished presenting a project that they started in January. It was a “you’re about to enter HS so you should learn this stuff” kind of assignment that I adapted from another school where I used to teach. It was empowering, fist-pounding, entertaining and challenging. For them too! My GS students I am sure didn’t like parts of writing a research paper, keeping a journal or documenting project hours, but they did and did it well. So creative!  They came up with new green products to sell and creative ways to educate about endangered animals, organic gardening, pollution, plastic and more.

While we took a break for lunch during our presentations, I was wowing the kids with my 80’s music (we had a speaker system set up...dance party!) when a little black scorpion walked by. Teachable moment! As I was backing away I said, “please don’t get bitten. You might not be able to present afterwards.” But of course the G8 boys swarmed and had fun poking at it until one of the girls politely intervened and carried it away on a leaf. She’s tough.

And later, motor biking home, I couldn’t help but smile when I saw a man walking his rather large black pig down the street. Rather large being the size of a calf. I wanted to stop and take a pic, but in traffic, no way. So I just smiled to myself. Oh Bali. This isn’t a new spectacle but one you see fairly often. I think the male pigs are for breeding and get walked to the prospective sow. The handler has a little stick he keeps poking at the slow pig, which is tethered with a rope leash. All in major rush hour traffic. All humane. Until it's ceremony time requiring a swine offering. Then the squealing is heard from far away. 

So just as I am really nearing home, breathing out carefully through the ride fields slash piles and garbage burnings so as not to inhale the dense smoke, I realized it was hold your cock night. Yes, that’s true. About twice a week the men in my village (and all over Bali I am sure) sit in circles outside a family compound and hold (and stroke) their colorful cocks, proudly displaying for all to see. And the roosters are proud too. J I think they get together before the actual cockfight to entice the birds to kill each other. It just looks so odd the first few times. Then I laugh at myself, as I giggle out loud about the guys holding their cocks. It gets me every time.

And as I ride on the little cement path through the rice fields to my house, I think about how adept I have become on the motorbike. I am no longer absolutely terrified and I can weave successfully through traffic, toot my horn quickly if need be, memorize the latest pothole location, navigate around the other people on this one-size-only path and turn across oncoming traffic without a panic attack. Oh, and remember to put down the face shield before I get to a rice field area (or after 6pm) so I don’t eat and breathe little bugs. 

I finally arrive home, let the kitties out and Wayan brings me a young coconut to drink. 

Oh Bali!

Things I am used to now.

1. Waking up to the sound of a shot gun, a cattle drive or small low flying airplane. Yes, it is almost rice harvesting season and the farmers have to wake up very early (pre-dawn) and stand in their fields shooing the birds away. My neighbor on the left hits a metal board really hard with a big wooden stick (shot gun sound) and the farmer in the front field takes a large plastic flag-type devise and waves it about (small plane flying) with gusto, walking up and down the paddy! And the next field over I hear "hah," "ohh," or "hee" calls, as if there was a herd moving to pastures. And walking out to my carpool this morning I encountered yet another device. This one was the most clever I thought. The farmer had set up a series of poles around his field, all with a bunch of cans tied to the top of each pole. Then he held a string that when he pulled set all the cans shaking and clanging away. Very little effort and quite effective.

2. Driving my motorbike feels so easy now. I still have no desire to drive on the bypass or in busy gigantic intersections, but I feel more comfortable for sure. For example, I now bike all the way to my house, inspired by a little snake poking its head out of a rice paddy a few weeks ago while I was parking in the dark near my trail. Snakes are something you want to avoid here. I have been walking out to my house every day (1/4 mile) but after that night, well, I changed.  Constantly thinking that a cobra or pit viper was near, has accelerated my learning curve. Now I mostly bike out all the way on the skinny trail between rice paddy drop-offs to my house. No worries. A fatal bite or a few rattled nerves on a trail. Easy decision. Actually I love the walk, so if I have a flashlight I still try and walk. The stars are beautiful, the fire flies incredible, the frogs entertaining and it is relaxing despite the snake worry. And in the daylight I meet and say hello to all sorts of farmers, workers and tourists I see on the trail. The least favorite part on the trail is when you almost have a head-on with another biker coming around a corner or workers carrying large piles of stone on their head. Not that I have done that. Nope. Not me.

3. Not sure if I can ever get used to the heat completely, but it is better. We are now in the dry season again and without the rain clouds dousing us, the sun is brilliant and strong. It is hot. I know that to diminish my heat rash, I need stress less about work and change up the diet with less heat inducing foods (cayenne) and more chilling foods (watermelon). Bringing a Western work style into this climate is silly, as you will rarely see a Balinese working between the hottest afternoon hours. We should all be sitting under a shade tree, fanning ourselves, sipping coconuts and taking naps. But we are slogging through our jobs without AC (not green) and sweating. So I don't feel ashamed when I say how much I enjoy lying around in a hotel room with AC, while watching a mindless movie or two and writing emails. I had a few hours last weekend before we checked out on Sunday. My main choices were to go for a walk, get a massage for my birthday (thanks Teri!) or hang in the room. I chose the room since it was blazing hot out, I can get a massage anytime in Ubud and I can't zone out in AC. My heat rash completely disappears, the mold leaves my clothes and my attitude shifts to calm. I never thought I would be that person but constant humidity and heat will do strange things to you.

Side note: I kept my birthday really under the radar here. We just celebrated the biggest Earth Day event at GS and I didn't want to follow with any major planning or such to celebrate. Had a lovely weekend with a small group of folks and not one knows I turned 35! Ha!  :)

Nyepi!

I experienced my first, Nyepi or Balinese New Years, one of the most revered days of the year! It starts out with weeks of preparation from all the villages on the island. As I was going to and from school, I could watch the progress of the Ogoh Ogohs. Usually the building of these giants is left up to the young men in the Banjar (or village group). Originally they were made from paper and bamboo, and now mostly foam. They are made to capture the demon sprits on the eve of Nyepi, paraded through the village and burned as purification ritual. Again, I resort to the internet for more specific details.


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ogoh-ogo

The island the next day, from 6am to 6am, is quiet and dark. Everyone is to stay inside their homes and essentially rest, meditate and fast. Each village has patrol that keep people inside their homes. The idea being that if the island is dark and quiet, the demons will be tricked to go away. And another year starts out with a purified and demon-free island. Lovely!

Of course many tourists either leave the island or stay in hotels that offer Nyepi "black out" specials, since the idea of a quiet island is no fun for some. They put blankets and paper on the windows to black out the light, so people can still watch tv, go on the internet, have lights on, and such. I opted to stay at a friend's house and play with his family for two nights. It was great! We played games, ate by candlelight, talked, etc. Because it is a larger house then mine, we could be outside and swim during the day with little worry since the walls block out neighbors. Very buleh (tourist), but quite nice too. I had fun and am very sad to see my friends leave island and go back to the states soon. I am trying all I can to get them to stay, but of course, life moves on.

Now it is spring break and I am opting for a "staycation." I love where I live and I am excited to just be home. I am volunteering for the big Bali Spirit Festival next week. I think I get a pass to the events once I finish my shift at the information booth. Should be fun to meet new people, get my yoga on (finally!), and hear some world beats.
http://www.balispiritfestival.com/

That's all for now!

The Sky is Falling!

**Editor's Note** I wrote this a few days ago. The wind has ceased!

Okay, not really but it was so windy at school today, my classroom was falling down. I sit up on the 3rd floor of the Heart Of School (HOS), and the breezes just blow right on through my room. That and the thatched roof drops debris to the point of needing safety googles. I eventually searched out an empty classroom for my next two classes. Unreal.

The last time we experienced these types of winds, there was a cyclone off the coast of Bali that circled and wound its way towards Australia. It was incredible how windy it was. And today in school you could hear the white board crash in a nearby classroom (mine is tied to the railing), kids yelling over the din trying to be heard by their teacher (who lost all control), the occasional "whoa" from someone downstairs in the Mepantigan (our thatched auditorium), the palm trees blowing so fiercely they look like they might just topple over. You get the idea. 

I actually had a planning period this morning and couldn't write in my classroom with so much debris falling and blowing that I went downstairs to the main floor (right in the entrance area) and found a stable ceiling to sit under. But then I was wide open for every one to say, "sorry to bother you but..." I did accomplish my task but the interruptions were constant. Interesting and important as it always is catching up with your colleagues, but distracting nonetheless.

Then it was lunch. Imagine all the food in big serving dishes, with the wind knocking over everything not held down: spoons, plates, tickets, cups, food, etc.The dishes were covered by banana leaves that inevitably blew away. I patiently waited for my dish of taco fixings and went to find a decent place to eat while cowering over my plate so as not to swallow roof splinters. Forget about filling a water glass! I threw mine out immediately since more debris was inside than water. Where is my water bottle anyway? I can't believe when packing I only brought one water bottle. And I use it so much, it has to be cleaned out daily or it will smell funny. Mold, the friends that stays so close!

But I digress. 

By the end of the day, there was a huge piece of black roof plastic sliding into the classroom from the nearby roof (it is a three-roofed building), put up there to stop the leaking thatch roof into the other adjoining classroom. It looked like a giant plastic monster wanted to take over my classroom.  Good times!

Then arriving home, I found yes, the debris was everywhere, and I have windows and walls and the wind ripping through the night. My own thatched roof left a mess as a well as all the things that blew like mad in under the doors and through the open bathroom. I later found out we had a tornado warning for Bali the next day. Which wasn't any better at school. My classroom was wrecked. When I was helping a  a Grade 8 student with her homework,  the wind was whipping past us so fiercely that papers were flying, books knocking over and we were yelling so loudly it was silly. And quite comical except for the crap flying into your eyes.Then later, when I took my little sixth graders around school looking for a decent classroom to teach in, I settled on Grade 5 since they were on a field trip. But alas, coconuts were falling like mad (we were chastised for walking on the trails) and the roof had blown away.

Forget riding your motorbike with any ability or speed...the sensation of being blown over is extreme. And the reality of being blown over is scary. Thank goodness for my carpool. Which is the topic of my next blog. Stay tuned...