Leaving Indonesia

Editor's note: I've lagged on posts in Thailand due to a combination of wanting a delay/buffer and having dodgy internet access throughout, expect more regular postings to start up next week. Sorry for the delay.

The next day was to be my last full day in Indonesia, and I spent it relaxing, swimming in the ocean and eventually returning, just before sunset, for another massage with the Lindas.

The Balinese are a remarkable people, and the way I figure it, those ladies work at least 10 hours a day, and probably 7 days a week. By all rights when I came to see them I would have been gratified with any recognition that I'd been to see them before, but I wasn't expecting it. I figured it was more likely that they'd peer at me carefully and tell me I looked familiar, then finally ask me if I'd come to visit before.

Instead, when I appeared around the bend in the boardwalk, perhaps 30 meters away, the three of them were all there, sitting, playing with a couple of small children and talking with some friends that had stopped. They were obviously winding down from another long day, waiting for the last light of sunset to dim and it to become too dark to work. But when they looked up and saw me, even at such a distance that I couldn't identify which of the three I'd had as a masseuse before, they cried out with the greetings and the huge grins you would use to welcome back an old friend you went all through school alongside, and haven't seen in years. I had showed up to have another massage that would cost a total of $5, but they made more of a big deal out of me coming back to see them than I've seen some parents make about their children's graduations from high school or college.

We stood chatting for a moment about my visit to Ubud, and I told them I had climbed Mt Batur.

The woman who had worked on me before said "ah, yes, and now, Massage?" and gestured to a table. I laughed and said "of course!" When she had finished, and my muscles felt the more sore for having been kneaded to the point of softening, we sat and talked about travel, and the economy, and how America was doing, and what effect it might have on the rest of the world.

It was odd to be drawn into a discussion of economic speculation with three random middle aged women on a Balinese beach, but we spoke of how the industries hit hardest in America are the luxuries--the things that people are cutting out because they fear losing their jobs, or taking a pay cut. It was interesting to see them listen carefully, to see the same smart attention to the pulse of the world I'd seen in Made the day before, and know that the Balinese managed to balance their carefree, welcoming attitudes with these intellectual curiosities.

When I'd finished, I went back to my hotel and had a relatively uneventful evening, enjoying Indian cuisine for dinner and making some preparations for Thailand.

The next morning, I woke early, checked out, thanked my hosts, and took a taxi to the airport, there I caught my flight back to Jakarta. I had padded my schedule in case the flight was delayed, an it was a little bit, but I still had a couple of hours to kill, so I wandered back and forth through the international terminal until I found a small Indonesian cafe that served Nasi Rendang, knowing that I wouldn't get to enjoy it again for quite some time.

I devoured an Orson Scott Card novel (Seventh Son) that I'd started two days before, finishing it just as it became possible for me to check in for my flight to Bangkok. Now I'm sitting on the plane somewhere between Jakarta and Bangkok. I've carefully copied down the address of the place I'll be staying, and well as carefully tracing the same address in Thai, since I expect my taxi driver won't speak (or read) much English.

I don't know how often I'll find Wifi in Thailand, so if this space goes dark for the next few days, I apologize. I'll try to update whenever I can.