Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Dah Dah Dah Dah, Dah Dah Dah
by venitha
"This feels so much like Girl Scout Camp."
Evacuated from our Munduk cottage after I blew out its electricity with Sue's hair dryer, we'd clutched toothbrushes and pajamas and followed a burly security guard and his flashlight through puddles and up a dark hill to a new abode, thankful for the let-up in the pouring rain. Beneath a single mosquito net and above a dead mouse, we slept in twin beds and both nearly killed ourselves tripping down steps into the bathroom on midnight pee trips.
The next morning, our cottage restored to its powered-up state, we were happily if groggily reunited with our drying racks of still-damp clothing and suitcases smelling of mildew. I left a camera battery charging for the day, and when we returned from oohing and aahing at picturesque rice terraces and the Eka Karya Botanic Gardens' ent-like banyan trees and incredible statuary, the electricity was out in the entire valley. My power is awesome. I took a very fast and very bracing shower, which cleared up my delusions of grandeur, and as darkness descended, the hotel staff brought us a lantern, lit tiki torches, and planted candles along the sidewalks. 
"How are you doing?" Sue's voice came through the darkness as I rifled through my backpack in search of bug spray. "Amused and frustrated, like me?"
Thankfully, with a good friend, amusement trumps frustration, and we giggled down to the restaurant, adding to the jungle's serenade several verses of John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt. His name is, after all, my name, too. We toasted to the kitchen's back-up generator with the first of several glasses of smooth Australian wine and set to enjoying a fabulous candlelight dinner of ayam panggang, good spirits, and great conversation.
An hour later, when the electricity came back on, the diners at the small open-air restaurant paused in a spontaneous moment of silence, blinking slowly, waking from our enchantment. Pity I've nothing else to plug in, I thought.
venitha
Evacuated from our Munduk cottage after I blew out its electricity with Sue's hair dryer, we'd clutched toothbrushes and pajamas and followed a burly security guard and his flashlight through puddles and up a dark hill to a new abode, thankful for the let-up in the pouring rain. Beneath a single mosquito net and above a dead mouse, we slept in twin beds and both nearly killed ourselves tripping down steps into the bathroom on midnight pee trips.
The next morning, our cottage restored to its powered-up state, we were happily if groggily reunited with our drying racks of still-damp clothing and suitcases smelling of mildew. I left a camera battery charging for the day, and when we returned from oohing and aahing at picturesque rice terraces and the Eka Karya Botanic Gardens' ent-like banyan trees and incredible statuary, the electricity was out in the entire valley. My power is awesome. I took a very fast and very bracing shower, which cleared up my delusions of grandeur, and as darkness descended, the hotel staff brought us a lantern, lit tiki torches, and planted candles along the sidewalks. 
"How are you doing?" Sue's voice came through the darkness as I rifled through my backpack in search of bug spray. "Amused and frustrated, like me?"
Thankfully, with a good friend, amusement trumps frustration, and we giggled down to the restaurant, adding to the jungle's serenade several verses of John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt. His name is, after all, my name, too. We toasted to the kitchen's back-up generator with the first of several glasses of smooth Australian wine and set to enjoying a fabulous candlelight dinner of ayam panggang, good spirits, and great conversation. An hour later, when the electricity came back on, the diners at the small open-air restaurant paused in a spontaneous moment of silence, blinking slowly, waking from our enchantment. Pity I've nothing else to plug in, I thought.
venitha
