Monday, May 22, 2006
Postcards From Ubud
by venitha
*****
The woman who made frowning, head-shaking eye contact with me upon my initial tenative entrance to the village temple smiles widely at my re-appearance in sarong and sash, beckons me forward to show me the offerings she is fashioning from rice, flowers, and... play-doh?
*****
Village children playing along the rice fields shout to me: "Hello! Hello!" They want to pose for pictures, then giggle and tease each other upon seeing the result.
A beautiful young girl says, "What is your name?" in sing-song English.
"Venitha," I tell her. "Siapa nama anda?" She looks at me in shock before dashing away.
*****
A wily monkey snatches a hard-boiled egg sandwich from Sue's hand at our sunrise breakfast on Gunung Batur. We gasp, and the food has disappeared in the blink of an eye.
*****
"We've come to Mecca." It's a confused metaphor in Hindu Bali, but who cares when chocolate, raw from cacao pods straight from the tree, and coffee, pan-roasted over a fire and pounded by hand into a fine powder, are concerned.
*****
I lie face down on the massage table while Ketut, a Balinese Fabio, straddles my legs, leaning the weight of his body into his large hands as he pushes firmly from my buttocks, up my back, across my shoulders, down my arms. I was so wrong about this not being my speed.
*****
venitha
I promise photos, though, alas, not ofFabio Ketut, once I'm back in Singapore.
The woman who made frowning, head-shaking eye contact with me upon my initial tenative entrance to the village temple smiles widely at my re-appearance in sarong and sash, beckons me forward to show me the offerings she is fashioning from rice, flowers, and... play-doh?
*****
Village children playing along the rice fields shout to me: "Hello! Hello!" They want to pose for pictures, then giggle and tease each other upon seeing the result.
A beautiful young girl says, "What is your name?" in sing-song English.
"Venitha," I tell her. "Siapa nama anda?" She looks at me in shock before dashing away.
*****
A wily monkey snatches a hard-boiled egg sandwich from Sue's hand at our sunrise breakfast on Gunung Batur. We gasp, and the food has disappeared in the blink of an eye.
*****
"We've come to Mecca." It's a confused metaphor in Hindu Bali, but who cares when chocolate, raw from cacao pods straight from the tree, and coffee, pan-roasted over a fire and pounded by hand into a fine powder, are concerned.
*****
I lie face down on the massage table while Ketut, a Balinese Fabio, straddles my legs, leaning the weight of his body into his large hands as he pushes firmly from my buttocks, up my back, across my shoulders, down my arms. I was so wrong about this not being my speed.*****
venitha
I promise photos, though, alas, not of
