Exploring Emotion as Seasons Change in Amed, Bali

So I’ve let a few of my root bury down in this black sandy soil. What can I tell you about this small town where I’ve been living; Amed in Eastern Bali. Well for starters, it’s smaller than you think. At first glance, I thought Amed stretched down the coast. Nope. It’s basically just one junction, the main market, a little bit in land at the end of the almost straight jungle road. So what’s the rest of all these warungs smoking satay, scuba and freediving dive shops, bougainvillea covered hotels, beach bars, and family homestays? Little villages nestled together, merging into what the tourists refer to as “Amed”. Technically, I’ve only driven through Amed a bunch of times. I spend most of my days writing a novel, freediving, scooter joyriding, reading Twilight and Oscar Wilde, buying fruit, get massages, and talking long walks through unidentifiable villages whose names will never appear on Google Maps. You have to ask a local person the name of the village we’re standing in. Google will thoughtlessly group all these villages as “Amed.”

“Where you frrrrom?” The local people ask me again and again. They roll their “r” dramatically. 

I gave up saying Seattle a long time ago. Nobody had heard of my home. Now I say “America” and their eyes spread wide open. “Wow!” 

“Far away, ya?” We smile and nod together. I keep my real thoughts secret to myself; thoughts of questioned patriotism, insecurities for why I’m choosing to be so separated from my family, a woman traveling alone, exotic excitement to feel the size of the planet shift into perspective.

“Where you stay in Amed?” Is the next question. They all follow the same script. 

“How long you stay?”

Long time. They’re surprised when my answered don’t fit with the usual tourist conversations. I’m not staying at the big hotel for a week.

I point over the hill. I’m over there with the ex-pats and locals, deep in the rice for months of writing, reading and diving.

I visit the beach to snorkel and get an oceanside massage before I plug my earphones back in and enjoy the sunset scooter ride back to the Bungalow. 

The diving in Amed is lovely. The coral at Lipa Beach blew my mind the first time I swam out there with Tanya, back in February. Just three months ago and so much has changed me.

The coral probably hasn’t changed but it doesn’t look the same to me at all. Exploring Koh Chang Marine Park in Thailand (I recommend diving with Koh Chang Divers) and diving in Raja Ampat with The Sea People has spoiled me.

I’ve seen 200% coral cover now. These Amed coral patches look like a bald head trying to keep its last few bit of hair. The sea is balding! The coral here looks dead, empty, colorless compared to what I was recently flying across on those strong currents in Papua. Thailand and Raja Ampat felt like actual underwater botanical gardens, abundant life with impressive landscaping. God, I’ve decided is the greatest gardener of all time. I think of my mother when I dove in the most beautiful underwater gardens. She would love the way the colors grow over each other with every texture imaginable. Diving in these wilderness coral gardens is like a Project Runway shopping trip to the epic fabric stores of New York City. Every pattern and pallet you’ve ever dreamed up…and it’s alive!

Amed’s coral is like a sparse Japanese rock garden. Simple, sandy, almost empty… maybe 20% coral cover. Still pretty but less breathtaking now that I’ve been exposed to something grander. Hmm. I’m grateful I saw Amed first and enjoyed it for what it is before I knew any better.

We’ve got a slow month in town (tourists are elsewhere) so I get the cafe all to myself. The coffee boys play guitar in the corner and watch anime. I’m glad there are less cars on the broken road. I still get angry when extra loud scooters roar past, hurting my ears, disturbing my peace. And the dogs bark at me, yapping and howling and I want to kick them away. Of course, I don’t. I just clench my jaw and fists and curse at them in my head. It’s out of hand. I must remember to wear headphones all the time to protect my ears from these loud sounds that hurt me. My sensitivity is increasingly rapidly as I spend more time in solitude at this empty resort. I’m deep in thought, peering into my soul pool, analyzing the changing reflections inside me. Im drawing out memories and weaving a fantasy storybook together. I feel very strange most days, not quite in this world and not quite in that one, suck in the past, moving through it towards the present that I keep waking up in. 

The songbirds keep me sane. So does the cool water swirling around my body when I float and twirl in the pool. I dive down to talk to fish. They still don’t trust me. I float upside down in the ocean admiring the sunrays and for those moments everything is heavenly. I miss home and family a lot right now. My mind is a strange place to be. But I forgot, I was telling you about Amed.

Sunrise is probably the most beautiful moment of the day. This is the orange view from my bed. I open my eyes and see the rising sun. Everyday it comes back hotter, passionately playing red and orange for me. I tie my orange running shoes and walk briskly for twenty minutes through the dirt paths between the rice paddies until I touch sand.

The glowing sun materializes like clockwork, rising out of the cool blue water that I still can’t find the right words to describe. It’s the softest most gentle blue, almost a little green, shimmering with a hint of gold, maybe a little white and grey. The ocean at sunrise and sunset. My favorite colors are here to say hello. The sky absorbs the sunshine and blends shades of pink and purple. I stare into it as long as I can until the perfect description pops into my mind. Lavender Rose. The clouds look like they would taste delicious, a feminine floral flavor, a pretty ice cream delight on the streets of a Parisian dream. But other days… it’s more intense, neon orange, like a tangerine on passionate fire!

Strong winds rustle the palm leaves and the rice farmers wear long sleeves to cover their hardworking bodies. They’re harvesting now.

I’ve watched these fields glow green in the rain storms. Now they’re dusty yellow, drying and cut down. The farmers carry the bushels of rice to the wooden table they’ve placed in the middle of the paddy. They beat the stalks against the wood, rice grains fall to the tarp laid out beneath.

“Saya suka lihat Sawah.” — The first sentence I learned to speak in Indonesian.

How many bags of rice will be filled and carried away from just this one paddy? I balk at the though of the world to feed. My whole life I’ve eaten rice so easily, so effortlessly it’s arrived in my plate. Now I see the effort behind all those little white grains I’ve chewed. Never before has rice tasted so sweet. With each bite, gratitude warms me, and I think of the farmers who smile and wave at me as I pass them by on my morning strolls. They begin their work at sunrise, just like me. Our work looks so different though, at least on the surface. 

There is so much more to tell you about Amed. My emotions distract me easily so I will have to resume my photo-journalism tomorrow. 

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Sunrise Snorkeling Simple Pleasures

The black sand is sparkling and the current is strong. I took to the road at sunrise, dance music blasting in my headphones. I left the quiet rice paddies behind and drove around potholes for twenty minutes until habit pulled me over at a familiar beach. The crashing waves called me into their warm. I said good morning to a box fish and all the colors of the underwater rainbow. Saya suka ikan dan pelangi.

I swam hard up the beach against the ocean, tracking my heart rate and my reward was complete surrender. I stopped moving my body entirely and drifted back down the coast. Riding on the current, I reached out my arms and flew.

I slid my hands into the big grains of brown sand. Sundays dazzling. Playing with sand underwater is a form of magic, to be sure! I hear the sounds of the sea. It sounds like mermaids are pouring out the golden coins they’ve collected. Maybe it’s just the seashells rolling in the surf. The mermaids in my novel are definitely collecting coins and counting them at sunrise. Saya suka maharati pagi.

The wind is stronger in this dry sunny season. I love it. This is the first time I’ve seen sailboats here. Oh, actually it’s just the same fishing boats I’ve seen all year…they’ve just hoisted sails. I see. They’ve been using engines up till now. The fisherman are the sailors today. Beautiful! Mereka punya jukung ada di laut.

Waves of bliss rush over me the way the sun peaks out through the clouds, coming and going. I stretch on the beach like a dancer, a yoga woman, a yogini. My limbs need this movement to feel everything. What is life without movement? Nothing I desire, that’s for sure. You can join me: watch my sandy beach yoga flow on YouTube.

I kiss the camera and my adoring global audience adieu. 15min is enough of my life to share with the world this morning. The shimmer on the water is too bright to look at directly so I find a shady spot in the beach cafe. Saya pesan teh hijau.

I’m slowing down my days. I’ve said goodbye or see you later to many passions. I feel the sacrifice acutely. I feel their space with quiet stillness and simple adventures; a morning at the beach, a chocolate brownie ball at the cafe, a vampire book beside the pool. I’m focusing on the simplest pleasures again. It’s scary to slow down. It’s nerve wracking to step aside from the grind of the career that’s kept me so busy. What do I do with all that determination? Down shift. Coast. Joyride.

So much is going on in these villages hugging the Bali Sea. It’s easy to live here with a daily routine keeping me happily afloat. It’s a pleasure to just enjoy being alive. I’m releasing my grip on all the things I could be doing. Im releasing all the wonderful possibilities into the ocean. Maybe this is why I love digging my hands in the sand so much. Take it all off my hands, please, mama ocean. There is no rush. There is time in life to do many things and each thing in its own time.

For now, I wake and move my body. I indulge with the elements. I complete my little practices; plucking guitar stings, practicing Indonesian, breath meditation. I write and I write some more. I play house in this exotic town that’s growing familiar on me and watch  myself moving through one of the biggest projects of my life.

The novel feels big and daunting. It’s also exciting and massively therapeutic. It’s challenging my mind to let go and hand the reins over to imagination and the wild spirit of creativity. These words I write about mermaids living my memories is an act of faith. Writing the perfect sentence every now and then is also just if not more satisfying than melting chocolate on my tongue…dare I say.

Love & Rainbows, Cha 🍍 Wilde

*I’ll share more details with you about my book in progress when you’re a member of my online studio. I give weekly “Book Reports” and offer interactive livestream workshops. You can sign up here.

Sleepy Day in Amed Paradise

The palm leaves bounce slowly and I chew warm rice. Scooters fly by too fiercely fast for my liking. Today, another day in this version of paradise, is a sleepy day, a day when I lift my hands in the air to surrender. I glance at the little to-do list of tasks that require me to open the laptop and I place my Kindle in my purse. Never mind the tasks for now. Today is a sleepy day, a day for reading instead of much writing. Today invites me to swim in the pool twice or maybe three times. Perhaps I’ll even take a nap.

I’m not a lazy woman so sleepy days are rare and sometimes scary for me. What do I do with this strange feeling of resistance? What’s wrong with me? Normally, I love to throw myself into work so a sleepy day that says slow down darling, is hard to trust. I remind myself I’m recovering from the trying trip to Raja Ampat, from COVID, from three decades of life, one and one decade of non-stop pushing to grow business. I’ve endured a lot of heartbreak and said yes to many challenges. I’ve been growing rapidly this past year through travel, therapy, acquiring new skills and delighting in creation. To grow ourselves, to expand further, to move beyond the known universe, this takes massive amount of energy.

There is no rush now. I can sit beside the tree and sway in the warm breeze. I can chew rice slower until it melts in my mouth. I can read a book about a faraway land or just stare at the land beneath my feet. A day of rest is always welcome in my life. Currently, my resting moments are being met by vampires. Stephanie Myers has my ear…or should I say my eyes? I’m reading the Twilight Saga for the first time and I’m raising my hand to admit this is my new guilty pleasure. And yes, it’s influencing my own writing. I’m continuing to write my own fantasy novel everyday, quite deep into the project now. I’m swimming through thousands and thousands of words and no vampires have appeared…yet. The romance scenes have more tension now and I can hear Edward the vampire’s voice in my head as I’m typing. I can’t help it. Influenced and inspired by what I’m consuming, I’m at peace with how the books I read are flavoring the book I’m writing. We all flow into each other.

The sky is awake with blue.
The plastic strips float above the rice paddies to scare the birds away.
My ears are sensitive so
I’ll wear noise canceling headphones
to block out the road sounds.
I’ll smile at the whooshing scooters.

Besides, this morning enjoyed a photo walk through the rice paddies at sunrise. I laughed with the village children riding their bikes; they wanted to be photographed. On the balcony I enjoyed another workout and yoga practice in the blinding tropical sun. I prefer to exercise in the shade and I won’t be picky right now. I swam in turquoise water and read a book beneath the frangipani tree. I ate eggs and fruit for breakfast. I offered a yoga flow on YouTube. I taught a full length naked yoga class for my studio members who needed help slowing down their restless minds. I practiced guitar. Yes, this is enough today.

Love & Rainbows, Cha Wilde

Life on The Sea People Coral Planting Boat in Raja Ampat

I haven't touched land in 7 days. I've swam with four turtles, an eagle ray, a fish as large as my body. I watched dolphins swimming at sunset and planted coral with my own hands (lots of nails were broken). I'm eating many bowls of rice per day with sambal (homemade spice sauce). I've got new records for my deepest (36 meters) and longest (90min) dives. The sun is HOT. My body is salty & sweaty. I've never seen water so blue, so turquoise, so clear in my life! All this adventure is thanks to my friend's invitation to live & work amongst The Sea People; his non-profit coral restoration project just off the coast of a remote village in Raja Ampat, a collection of 1500 islands on the Eastern side of Indonesia.
 

 When the sun rises, so do I. I climb to the top of the boat to stretch in the morning dew. It's the only time when I have privacy and the air is cool. I drink green tea, write three pages in my journal, and five pages in my novel. The novel is coming along nicely; the mermaids have become pirates and they have fairies on the ship with them who live in little lanterns along the ship railings. In the comment below, share something you know about fairies.

It’s the sunset that has brought me here to Raja Ampat. It led me to Indonesia. I dreamed about the ocean for so many years while living in Seattle. I painted the colors of the sky in my art studio, wishing my feet were in the sand. I dreamed of having a painting studio on the beach. I followed the vision to Bali. In Bali, I saw the sunset over the ocean one magical night and wondered what the colored light must look like from below. I picked up phone and texted my friend Arno. We hadn’t spoken in twelve years. I announced my spontaneous decision to learn to dive. For artistic purposes, I needed to go underwater. “Welcome to the new world,” he said. “If you learn to dive, you can come live on my boat in Raja Ampat. I’ll show you what diving is really about." It will blow your mind.”

And here we are now. I’m watching the sunrise and the sunset on Arno’s boat. This boat is home to “The Sea People” aka Orang Laut, a crew of humans dedicating their lives to a coral restoration project. Just off the shore of a remote local village, they dive 8-12 meters underwater. One man swims around picking up pieces of coral that have broken off and are laying on the seafloor. We call these “corals of opportunity.” He carefully carries them to a big plastic laundry basket that has weights tied to it so it doesn’t float up to the surface. His job is to ensure the basket stays full of coral. The other team members, usually three or four guys, will be floating in place, hovering above the rows of freshly planted coral. Just like sowing flowers seeds in an earthy garden, you place one coral down a few feet away from the previous coral. They’re making rows along the sand. They stick each coral into the holes in the chain link fence that has been rolled along the seafloor and secured down. Stick the coral through the chain link fence, then tie it on strongly with zip ties. Most of the coral is just smaller than a square foot in size and requires two to three zip ties to hold it the chain link. In order to grow, the coral needs to be stabilized. If the coral is laying on the ocean floor, rolling around bumping into things its thin skin is damaged. So they tie the loose coral they find to the chain link fence and these broken pieces of coral can start growing again. Within minutes, little fish are swimming around the freshly planted coral, nibbling on it, hiding in it.

The team is working at this particular location because the reef, the coral garden has been destroyed by an underwater avalanche. The people in the village were drawing rocks from the ocean to use in their construction projects. The displacement of the rocks affected the stability of the land and sandy dirt slid down the steep slope, tumbling over and breaking the coral. The reef in this region is massively heavy and vibrant with life. Arno described it as having 200% coral cover, compared to the 20% coral cover that I’ve been swimming with in Bali. Coral is growing on top of coral as far as the eye can see. So it is a threat when the land above is tumbling down and crushing all this life. The loss of coral here is a tragedy, says Arno. We must replant the coral garden that has been smash and in doing so we’ll prevent losing the coral that is further down the hill by creating a barrier.

— Donate to The Sea People

 
I brought three cameras (Canon 5D Mark IV, GoPro 9, Insta360 x3) and I wander the decks spying on people. I catch people while they’re drinking coffee, filling air tanks, sawing wood, scooping buckets of water out of the speedboats, pouring honey on toast, painting, answering emails, asking questions.

I hope the images and video footage I capture will be fun and useful for The Sea People website. Happy memories at the very least. So many people around the world are shy in front of the camera, especially these guys. Fashion, Instagram and all the Tiktok dance moves haven’t really touched the culture here. Everyone on this boat is very focused on their practical tasks. My years of camera play, social media marketing experiments, fashion photo shoots, and manicures doesn’t really fit in here at first glance. I feel a bit like a city girl princess walking around the deck in my flowy kimono robe with noise cancelling headphones on and a fancy camera around my neck. I feel a little out of place and yet, I know the value of the work I can offer them. I know how to spy on people. I know how to catch people in genuine moments when they don’t even realize they’re being filmed. I know how to find the beauty and meaning in everyday life. Hand me my camera, please!

It feels deeply fulfilling to use my camera skills. I love how intimately I connect with the world around me when I'm observing it through a lens. There is nothing I don't love when I see it through a camera because behind the camera I am nothing but curiosity. I'm focused on finding beauty and appreciating the layers of this story we're all a part of. The camera helps me love the world. It makes me feel more comfortable. It gives me a purpose on a boat when I might otherwise feel a bit at a loss for what my hands ought to be doing. I got to take the camera underwater today too. Photographing coral and divers underwater is SO CHALLENGING. First of all, I'm swimming. On top of that, color and light works differently underwater, the ocean is pulling me away, careful not to touch the coral or get so focused on taking pictures I lose my friends, don't scare the fish, don't drop the camera etc… Love it.

 

Dinner looks similar to lunch and yesterday's dinner. Rice, green beans, corn, something orange and spicy, chicken or fish. For breakfast today we enjoyed pisang gorgeng which has been named the best fried dessert in the world. It's a deep fried banana. I ate three…maybe four, or five…let's say four. I'm eating more than I need to but like I said, life on the boat is hot and kind of uncomfortable sometimes so I'm coping in little ways like saying it's fine to eat an entire hand of fried bananas. There will be no consequences apart from a very round little belly. Let's pray the deep fried banana sugar fat just goes straight to my booty so when I'm allowed to wear a bikini again we'll celebrate the joys of a curvaceous physique. haha 

 

Thank you so much for reading my stories.

If you would like to get more involved in the creative process behind my work and participate in the livestream yoga classes and workshops I offer, consider become a Cha Wilde studio member.

If you’d like to support Arno’s team and donate to “The Sea People” you can learn more on their website.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde

Sorong Street from the Backseat 6:30am

I land at sunrise in Sorong, Indonesia. A big hug from Arno at the airport and we’re off to the beach to find his boat. He rides a scooter. I brought the guitar, one bag too many to join Arno on the scooter, so I hired a taxi car. Arno drove ahead to buy donuts. I snapped photos on my iPhone through the car window, backseat passenger perspective.

I am exhausted from the red eye flight. I am foggy brained and sweaty AF. Napping today and finding some sea legs. The energy here is completely different and will take a little getting used to. Very very slow. The air, although it’s blowing, feels still. Space is hovering. The sky looks different, dare I say strange. It’s bigger here. The heat is intense, pressure. I wonder how I’ll perceive these elements after a good night sleep. I’m dropping straight into Arno’s work life. The men on the boat are sanding the wood, preparing for a new paint job. Zoom calls are coming in with university professors in Australia, conversations about coral and non-profit growth. Arno is hard at work. I’m sleepy.

Love & Rainbows,

Cha Wilde

Cafe Handshake

I learned the handshake today. Friendship grows deeper each day with the team of men who own and operate my favorite cafe in Amed. I sit with them for hours and they teach me about Balinese culture and spirituality. They know my drink. I practice speaking Indonesian with them and we laugh a lot in their gorgeous intentional space. The cafe windows are filled with jungle mountains and rice paddies. This is the most modern vibe in town, fresh art on the wall, Japanese influence, passion for serve and connection between humans, hand selected coffee beans from the farms around the island. Award winning latte art! The biggest smiles and fun music. There’s a guitar in the corner that the guys play while they sip their third or forth cup of really good fancy coffee. I see a lot of local faces here everyday and tourists breeze through too. Lots of scooters parked outside and the sun burns the leather seats while they wait for us.

The owner of the cafe asked me today to make sure I send them a copy of my book when it’s published so they can add it to their bookshelf. With twelve books on the shelf right now, my book will make it thirteen. Quite a spotlight! He said they’d be proud to have the book, knowing it was written amongst them.

I wonder if I seem exotic to them; a foreign girl living in their rice paddies writing a mysterious book in their shop, ordering green tea and matcha, poke bowels and sushi tacos. These men have kept me fed, smiling, talking and feeling the warmth of community while I’ve been deep inside my creative bubble. They’ve nurtured me more than I think they’ll ever really know. My life is very simple right now, spacious. I’m intentionally carving space open around me so words can flow in easily. Solitude has been tasty and still, I pop into the cafe most mornings to feel the warmth of friendly humans. A cafe can feel like home when you visit everyday.

They taught me their handshake today, the one the baristas all give each other each morning. It felt like an honor to learn it. They laughed when I said, “have a fun day!” They’d never heard that expression. “Funday?” A new word for them. I like it. Have a funday! I’ll define funday as a good life, chosen, created intentionally.

love & rainbows,

Cha Wilde

Long Walks, Quiet Writing Days in Amed Bungalow

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

Plastic Offerings, Rice Paddies, and Stars in Bali

I stick around long enough until I see the dark side. The plastic garbage in Bali is tragic. This beautiful culture that smiles from person to person in harmony with nature revolves around spiritual ceremonies and offerings to the gods. For centuries the offers have been homemade and biodegradable, like a banana and some dried rice. Now people are getting different types of modern and tourist industry work and they no longer have time to handcraft their offerings to the gods. Someone in town has taken on that role and hand wraps the offerings in plastic. The people carry their baskets of fruit and plastic wrapped rice to the beach and leave it on the shore to express their gratitude for the ocean. It doesn’t occur to them that the plastic needs to be removed.

Plastic fills the gutters and floats in the water. When I’m diving with fish, I’m diving with plastic. On a good day it’s just a piece or two. On a bad day, I’m swimming through a floating landfill, brushing top roman cups, hairbrushes, shoes, potato chip bags, and clear sheets of plastic out of my face. I worry about eye infections when I swim in this grimy water, washing down from the rivers into the bay. When the rain pours, it floods the waterways and down into the bay the plastic and sewage goes. The blue water turns brown. Wet season showed me the worst of this. My first day freediving was in the nastiest water I’ve seen. It’s gotten better at the weather’s turn dry. Garbage stays on land. Sometimes if a strong current comes through the channel between the islands it might bring an island of plastic trash with it. We wait for the current to wash it onwards and we get back to diving. I’m speaking to the locals about this to understand what’s going on.

I take long walks these days through the rice paddies. Sunrise is the perfect time. The sun is hot neon orange. The volcano lights up, the temples wake up, the whole town is filling up.

This week, Amed is the gathering spot for all the world’s freedivers. It’s Deep Week, freediving festival. I’m hiding from the crowded streets. By crowded I mean I have to sit behind a few scooters and a truck in some “traffic” and I don’t have as many options for seats in the cafe. Haha

Every conversation I eavesdrop into is related to freediving. It’s a bit much for me. I’m in solitude mode as I’m writing this novel. Leave me alone with my basic Indonesian, my barista friends who know my drink, and the wind blowing the blades of the rice paddies with traditional music off in the distance.

The bright side is that the stars are brighter tonight than I’ve ever seen them in Bali, brighter than I’ve seen anywhere in a long time. The brightest star of all is this sun that shows up so reliably here. 6am hello. 6pm goodbye. As a woman who is abundant in chaotic feminine energy and constantly in need of masculine structure, my well-being is greatly supported by the regularity of tropical light. I love the late night sunlight of Seattle and Scotland, the way we can stay awake to play on the beach until 10pm in clear daylight. That is a different kind of magic. I cherished that wild magic when my life was more structured as a student and a business woman. I was structured by the 9-5 and after my responsibilities were complete I wanted to play until midnight.

Now I’m free all day, an artistic dancing with nomadic energy. A sun enforced bedtime and rise time gives me something secure and predictable through which my witchy mermaid madness can flow. Turn on at sun up. Turn off at sundown. The sun is the husband of o my moon. It allows me to receive inspiration more easily because I’m not using up energy to make decisions like when to rise and fall and the light isn’t playing games with me, changing all the times. The natural world around me feels consistent which gives me permission to let go into the frontier inside myself. Perfect conditions for writing a book, don’t you agree?

Love & Rainbows,

Cha Wilde

Writing in Solitude on Koh Chang, Thailand

I’ve always dreamed of locking myself away to write, running far away and sitting in a cabin or a beach chair and telling whatever stories needed to be told. Sounded romantic. In actuality, it was rough as all good challenges are. I put myself in the pressing situation and squeeze the juice out of me.

I feel sick most of the days on this island. It’s not the food or the sun. It’s the loneliness or regret, fear or anxiety, I have to sit inside of while I turn over old memories and dark feelings like stones on a cold beach. Its the impatience and desire to get back to fun things that pesters me. It’s the pull of two worlds, two lives that want me. I’m living in paradox, living with polarized parts.

It’s a wonderful opportunity to be alone and dove deep inside the painful places. These journeys clean house in my body and soul. They clear away cobwebs and repair the deeper problems that have been making me behave in strange ways. I hold myself in these weird feelings, alone in a good way, in a beautiful safe location. I watch the waves and the sun move. I watch my relationship with myself move. I write it down and smile at the baristas. I look forward to moving on and laughing with friends again when this work is complete.

Love & Rainbows,

Cha

Writing and Coffee in the Jungle of Koh Chang, Thailand

I locked myself on an island and started writing a book. Write away all day! I let my writer part(s) take over my body completely. no care for fitness and balance, rest or friends. The time, ten days, alone on an island to write it all down. Get it out and get it out quickly please. Flush the system in our isolation so we may journey on into the world for fun adventures with our beloveds. Speak the damn truths that we’ve been hauling around so heavy for long enough. Write them down on the phone. Write in the book, in the Google Drive, on the scratch paper. In the phone memos. My fingers are cramped now, crooked from typing with my thumbs on the phone for hours. The pinky finger at the bottom, stretched under the balance the device. When we leave this island, we will be finished with this spirit. We’ll return to a healthier routine in which writing had its sacred morning space and isn’t allowed to bulldoze through the jungle at any hour thoughtless of our health and other interests. Write away!!

Why do I feel like I’m on a jungle cruise adventure at Disney land? The deck of the bungalows are broken, window glass on the floor. I wouldn’t be surprised if a monkey jumped out screaming. Vines are taking over. Jungle people are hammering on some project that looks already devastated. Are they repairing this? Was it COVID? How long have all these stores, resorts and homes been derelict? Why are so many building abandoned or empty, boarded up, even with people living amongst them. I can’t quite workout what’s going on.

Poverty is on the road side, by American standards. It doesn’t feel like poverty here. Just another cement block home, ragged sun faded tshirts drying on hangers from a wire hung between palm trees. It’s not cute rustic. It’s dirty and grim. Everything here is a bit grim, casually falling apart in a way that doesn’t concern anybody. Simple in a way I don’t wish to experience because it feels stuck rather than charming. This is me speaking though and it’s hard for me to forget what perfection looks like in Hollywood and Seattle. There are no cracks, no dirt, no plants taking over. The plants are kept in their place. The dirt is swept away before it accumulates. The cracks mean it’s time to completely demolish and rebuild a shopping mall.

In the Gulf of Thailand, everybody’s just living in the jungle next to old abandoned huts, smoking weed, playing reggae, blending up mango shakes, wacking machetes into coconuts, selling 300 BAHT one hour full body oil massages on the beach, eating pad Thai if you’re a tourist or spicy basil fried rice if you’re a local, and pulling scooters over to the side of the road to watch the ocean at sunset.

Even the finest of hotels has got the geckos crawling on the ceilings and the creak of nature in the walls. What is there to compare to here? This is not run down when we’re in the wilderness where even the trees are rotting and that’s normal. Nature made and man made objects are disintegrating in their own time and nobody seems bothered by it. Like every beach cafe in the world, we know we’re going to erode when we live beside the salt water. I am more at peace falling apart here surrounded, enveloped by earth as she crumbles beside me.

The jungle road curves through the trees. Up and down. High up I gaze over the ocean, soft blue ripples. Down low the roads are perfect, smooth, wide and rolling.

Come drive around this island one day. Follow my footsteps. Stay at Jungle View Bungalows (for private garden pool) and Cliff Cottages Resort (for epic ocean view and cute common area that feels like a beach hut living room). Eat at Tofu Kitchen (healthy vegetarian Thai food), Sea Chill Bar (for classic Thai food on the dock over the ocean at sunset), Indie Raw (for sushi and healthy smoothies plus air conditioning and a couch to lay back on), Indie Beach (for same food as Indie Raw but your feet are in the sand and you can live here too or go paddleboarding). Get foot massages at Paradise Massage, workout at BB Gym in Lonely Beach, go scuba diving with Koh Chang Divers, enjoy the best coffee on the island in the Fig Cafe garden (sweetest customer service ever - they serve you coffee with two hands and bow), watch the sunset into the ocean with a beverage at The Mount (treehouse vibes), and escape the entire world with a day on Long Beach (it’s an epic scooter ride to the end of the island, isolated, hot and magical).

If you’ve never been to Thailand what should I tell you? Random, scruffy, delicious, warm, you’ll be left alone to do what you please, obsession with colleges, 7 Elevens are your best friend, marajuana at the ready, jungle adventure ride, best mangoes ever.

Fig Cafe. This is how coffee is done. Drink preference remembered. Delivered to me with two hands.

“Flat white oak milk to go for you”

And a bow.

Khob Khun Ka

Khap

Swinging by the waves I cannot see, only hear, before bedtime. Give me a coconut and I’ll scrape that thing clean. Thai coconuts have thick moist meat inside and fresh sweet water. Indonesian coconuts, at least the ones I’ve been given, don’t quite compare…where’s all the fleshy white filling Bali coconuts, huh?

Love & Rainbows,

Cha Wilde

Swimming in Words and Elemental Sensations

I sliced my foot open on a barnacle this morning. Don’t worry, not too bad. Hydrogen peroxide is in my toiletry bag. I’ve been playing with video cameras underwater, 360 cameras that make me appear to be at play on a tiny planet all to myself. It’s fantastic fun. The video play is the escape I need from all the writing I’m doing. Hours of writing every morning from 9am-1:30pm is a typical window. I fill it with coffee and fantasy, journaling, typing, digging deeper in my memory, leaning into the story to be even more honest. I think I could write from sunrise to sunset. It flows so effortlessly for me. For health and balance, I take the last sip of brown from the coffee cup, pack up my pen and jump on the scooter. Off to the gym!

I’m swimming in words; reading and writing them. I feel a distinction between present moment, fantasy, past, and flashback as I go throughout my time. Time is playing with me as I write with it in mind. Writing has mostly been real for me, presence. I didn’t see the appeal of creative writing, storytelling for many years. I only wanted to be here. Composing music and the painting were my playtime in my imagination, my escape into another realm. Now, I’m tasting how to tap into similar satisfaction, a creative flow in writing by inventing a world.

Diving and scooter driving are two activities I enjoy to break from the wordplay. It’s the sensation of smooth air or water rolling over my skin. In the ocean the water caresses every inch of my body just as the wind attempts to as I slide through the air on a scooter. The air and the water, when they completely envelop me feel almost identical. It’s a bold statement and I’ll make it…this smooth rush over my skin, a sensation of being held, massaged, surrounded by the elements is my favorite feeling in the universe. I can’t get enough of it.

If I burned alive and the heat didn’t hurt me, would the flames lick my body softly the way the water flows over me, the way the wind caresses me, the way the earth holds me down when I bury myself inside her? Do all the elements know how to give me the same pleasure?

love & rainbows,

Cha Wilde

Koh Chang Divers

I am a woman of language, the tongue, the voice, the sounds we make to be together, to understand whatever there is to be known.

I create from within.

This is what the German young man said about me after listening to my description of how I make my living. “Traveling and writing go well together,” he said. He said his work as a mechanical engineer comes to him from outside himself; all the machines he’s inherited from previous generations and all the problems he’s solving are from the others. My work is just me, looking inside myself and expressing what I find. “This is very cool,” he says nodding his head before we take one big step and plunge into the ocean. Today I complete my 12th, 13th, and 14th dives in the open ocean. The water is gorgeous, fish life abundant and coral reef is wowing me. I feel like I’m swimming through a giant garden. The corals look like enormous pink roses in full blossom.

Bang Bao pier is the floating market in this Gulf of Thailand. I catch the scuba boat with Koh Chang Divers and they zip us out to the marine park, protected sea around nearby islands. It costs 400 BAHT per head to dive in the park. Totally worth it on top of the 3,500 BAHT I pay for the dives. Money well spent when it takes you out into the heart of wild nature. She gives you back your life. Nine hours at sea and I’m delivered back to land in time for sunset.

For the healthiest food on Koh Chang, I drive to Indie Raw or Indie Beach. Fresh bohemian vibes, pretty veggies, and an overwhelming long list of smoothies. I stand there humming, searching the menu for green things. Why do I want espresso shots added to everything? Caffeine addiction is strong in me on this island. It’s probably because I’m writing. Writing and coffee are best friends in my system. I order green juice to help the cells in my body replenish and repair themselves. Miso soup for fermented pro-biotic goodness, gut health please!

I explore the Bang Bao pier market. It’s like Pike Place Market’s tropical scrawny little brother. Fishy stalls, sea creatures surviving their final moments in buckets. Sweet coconut pancakes served in paper takeaway trays. Silk elephant stuff animals, the same Bingtang graphic tank tops, more elephant patterns on hippie pants, shells sewn together in curtains and wind chimes, too many ankle bracelets to choose from. I chose one and regretted it the whole walk home. I was jingling like a Christmas elf, every step, bells dingling, on my feet, in a rhythm, driving me crazy!! Take it off. I’ll give it to my mom. She likes bells.

Twice on this hot island I’ve been into the first aid kit. My first morning alone, I ran down the beach at sunrise. Twenty minutes in, almost home, my left foot sunk into the sand and a spiked white shell sunk into the big toe mound. I pulled out the spikes that had broken off the shell’s body. One spike took three days to be extracted. One week later, I went swimming, again at the sunrise moment. After chasing fish and pinching my nose a hundred times (to equalize my ears as I dive down to inspect coral in the bay), I climbed out onto the rocks and my right foot sliced along a barnacle. The blood was minimal. The cut was clean with very little pain. I’ve been hobbling around though as it’s uncomfortable to put my full right on it.

My last days on the island have been land ridden, writing up a storm, staring at the waves, scraping meat out of fresh coconuts.

Love & Rainbows,

Cha Wilde