Ikan?
Ya, ikan.
Berapa besar ikan?
Ini besar!
Little brown fingers show size of the fish she’s trying to catch in the gutter river.
At sunrise and sunset I take to the roads. The air is cool enough for me to walk without feel of heat exhaustion or sun burning. In my orange backpack I bring with me the essentials; wallet, sunglasses, water, headphones, Kindle, sarong, an apple from the local fruit stand. I lace up orange running shoes so I’ll be able to walk a long way for a long time in comfort, not thinking about my feet. My feet guide me down jungle paths where I tiptoe on the edge of muddy potholes, waves to farmers glancing up from the dirt, and crunch over plastic garbage.
Ten year olds are driving mini scooters around town. Where did these adorable small electric bikes come from? I feel like some benevolent company has gifted the towns children with bikes to get them driving early. The children are driving the tiny bikes on the main roads, between cars, beside adults. Kids are driving kid passengers. Imagine one of those Barbie cars I got for Christmas; pink, plastic, 5 miles an hour around the neighborhood. Now pump some steroids into it and let me loose on the freeway. One day the mini bikes weren’t here and then one day they were everywhere. It’s like the week after Christmas with the same new toy driving around all the streets. I can tell they’re all excited. It’s new for them too. They’re all going out in scooter gangs, filming each other driving. I’ve seen parents chaperone if the little scooters but most of the time the kids are riding solo. Ten year olds driving. Five year olds hugging on the bag with a big smile.
Combine this with every adult driven actual motorbike that has little monkeys riding without helmets or belts or anything resembling modern Western safety standards. We’re back in the days before all of that, casual.
I’m walking on the quiet dirt roads now, rocks and mud, lots of millipedes. Jalan-jalan with my long shadow. I hide behind palm leaves to watch the farmer ride on the wooden frame pulled by the brown sapi. Most of the cows I’ve seen have been in the stalls, blue string through their noses, mooing and chewing. This is the first time I’ve seen them at work, plowing at sunrise. Chickens following them to pick in the dirt. Bug and birds fill the trees around us. Constant gentle noise. The jungle path leads me closer to the ocean and the sound of crashing waves enters the soundscape.
I stay away from the main street zoom and wander back to the bungalow. A two story bamboo bungalow in the rice paddies just for me for ten quiet days. I’m alone, eating fruit, drinking vegetables, writing a book about mermaids and memories. My morning and evening walks take me on the little bit of adventure I need to stand connected to the outside world. The hour by the pool with a novel and the most perfect color of teal blue aqua wonderful water lifts my spirits, reminding me to receive. I don’t need to force my creation. I just need to relax and receive it.
All these days alone are exactly what I asked for, exactly what I need. Solitude to focus inward and express in safety, free of distraction. Next week I’ll be off to Raja Ampat, living on a boat with friends and soaking in the ultimate adventure for a diver. Movement, socializing, laughter, new experience and thrill await. I’m eager and I remind myself to not wish away these quiet days I need.
Rest deeper I tell myself. Stay in bed a little longer as the sun shines in through the wind and the fan blows the white mosquito net. Enjoy all this space to myself, just as I like it. A loneliness hovers inside me. I imagine flying home to family and lovers. I can’t stand any of my lovers right now. They take up too much space and I need all this space to create right now.
I said a prayer in my soul and the ocean gave me exactly what I asked for. I tasted it and spit it back to the sea. Now there is a loneliness in my heart that I carry around wherever I go.
Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde