The rain runs quicksilver down the frog green corrugations of a banana leaf at the edge of my balcony. Workers from the rice paddy, just over the river gully in front, dash under similar fronds to their next work station and we sit squashing mozzies and enjoy the fading light. Should probably close the doors now it's that time of afternoon but the air is too refreshing to shut out.
The last few days have slowed down, we nurse Bali belly and dip occasionally into the pool between bowls of miso soup and other easily digestible fare. We stink of the garlic liberally applied to last nights meal in an attempt to kill off whatever it is that has lodged in our guts.
Turmeric tea and 3 tablespoons of papaya seeds are the local remedy but the rain and lethargy have not made sourcing either very appealing, maybe tomorrow.
The last week means that I can last now for about 20 minutes without overwhelm and tears when I converse with strangers. We have a place to stay for 2 months and the inside info on how to extend our visas without leaving the country. We have caused a scandal on 2 separate occasions and have talk in the marketplace about us in relation to our innocent blunders with the locals but the Balinese are ever smiling, very forgiving, (outwardly at least) and it appears no lasting offense has been taken.
Already we have grown a network of contacts, both locals and foreigners. People seem easy to meet in Bali. Dave has an artist's residency at a designer gallery that ships ceramics all over the world and I have just about thrown off the self recriminations about my lack of writing. Why is it so hard to allow myself some time to come to terms with the upheaval of the last three months?
It's not everyday your mother dies, your last kid leaves home, you pack all your belongings into a storage shed because your landlord wants your house back, you sell your car, give away your pets and take off to live in a foreign country whilst trying to manage menopausal emotions exacerbating all the other shit!!!!!! I reckon I can take a couple of weeks or more before anything even vaguely resembling either inspiration or concentration can be expected to emanate from my brain box. So there! Rain on banana fronds.....mmm,very soothing!
Honesty, by Sally
6 years ago