Dear All,
It has been a very eventful few days. I've been trying to put the election into perspective and I can't help thinking about 9/11. I remember hugging a total stranger on the street as a gut reaction to the panic and awful sadness. I remember being afraid of what our government's reaction was going to be, knowing that it had to be massive. Somehow, miraculously, I felt an incredible sense of togetherness with the whole city. A large population of thinking people coming together in shared pain and horror, and somehow, consciously or unconsciously resolved not to become savages. We were let down then and let down continuously for almost the last decade, but on election day I experienced a release of political anxiety so strong that I can hardly believe I had been able to bury it inside for so long. I had the privilege of being tipsy at a great restaurant/bar with 60 other foreigners from all over the world, to witness Obama's election. There was not a dry eye in the house. Everyone, even the heavily tattooed Australian and the stoic guy from Helsinki were crying and hugging each other. This time, the sense of togetherness was worldwide but instead of negation and a desperate clawing for humanity, there was a feeling for the first time in my life that I might be able to read a newspaper and not be totally depressed. Am I naive enough to believe that all our problems are now solved? Not hardly. But what a moment!! And how much we all deserved it!
I rewarded myself by moving into my new apartment/bungalow. It is a small improvement over the squalor I've been living in for the last month. My door opens out onto green terraced rice fields, I have a small swimming pool, tropical plants are everywhere and I have traded my no-flush toilet for a marble bathroom. In the morning, invisible house elves leave a platter of hot tea and coffee on the table in my little veranda. Now if they could just tackle repaving the approach, which looks like something out of a Beirut combat zone. It is going to be a little rough on my beautiful scooter but I think the rewards are well worth it. Speaking of my scooter...
I got my second flat tire while cutting across miles of rice fields today. The bartender, Poleng and I were taking a shortcut home after going to my first Balinese wedding. When I called to him and told him about it he suggested, in fine Balinese style, that I should sit further back on the seat and be careful not to veer off the dirt path into the mucky rice paddies. As usual, his advice worked and we made it to a little shop in the next town where an old dude squatted and patched my wheel, while his bald, retarded, adult son diddled himself off in the corner. I was able to chat with the guy while he worked and when he found out I was not only living in Bali and studying but that I was also a pandai besi (blacksmith), he charged me Bali price of 6,000Rp (.60 cents) for his work.*
*I can't help it, even after a month and a half I can't get over the price differences. I've stopped telling the restaurant staff the prices of anything I brought with me. Even the price of something simple, like my rip-stop rain poncho (an item that they intensely admire because we all ride through monsoons on scooters and ponchos are the national uniform), which only cost $20, would make their eyes bug out of their heads if they were to find out. So I tell them that something is "cheap" or "expensive" and then when they ask for the price I tell them that there is no way to compare things like this.
The wedding itself was something I was really looking forward to. A waitress from one of the restaurants was getting married and everyone said it would be fine if I went. I had heard that Balinese weddings were no big deal but firsthand experience is the whole point of a trip like this. True to form, it was a pretty laid-back event. Because ceremonies are relatively expensive, this family had decided to combine a tooth-filing ceremony with the wedding. There were three or four girls that were coming of age and they were all decked out in full golden tiara, slinky dress, caked-on make-up, regalia. They went first as the wedding was the main event. In turn they lay down on a table and proceeded to get small portions of their teeth ground off with a metal file, while their elders crowded around to facilitate. I still haven't been able to get a clear explanation from anyone Balinese about the significance of this ritual but then I think of our expression "to cut one's teeth" and wonder if maybe they just take that literally.
This part of the event ended and we all went to eat. I was sitting with the brother of my host and a group from the restaurants. My host's brother told me that part of the ceremony involves the couple stepping on eggs. He didn't know why so I told him about the Jewish tradition of stomping on a glass at a wedding to symbolize things that can never be undone. He said, "yes, maybe that's why we step on eggs." Further proof that Bali is a big Jewish family. After we were finished eating, everyone got up to leave. I was shocked. "What about the wedding?" I said. "Already happened" they replied. I raced around the corner and sure enough, the ceremony was winding down. I'm still not sure if I missed it or if that is just the way weddings are in Bali. I'll happily go to another one but, for the moment, I'm checking 'weddings' off my list of ceremonies to see. This just leaves one more; a cremation.
Love,
Alex
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