The Squooshy

And our adventcha comes to a close. It has been a very full week— memories made and my kids’ inheritance spent. 🤭 Also, no one died.

By and large we paced our trip with one ‘down-day’ followed by an ‘activity-day’—every other day. But. E Coli had other plans for me and we missed some of the activities we planned on the front end.

Thankfully (and notably) there was a doctor on site—seems our hotel was more prepared for my case of “Bali Belly” than I was. Not sure what got me—maybe the fruit skewers on our boating trip—probably washed with local water. Oof!

Highlight Reel

I enjoyed (almost) all of the time on our trip—minus that day and a half where my toilet and I became inseparable (and I contemplated my own mortality). Daniel and I did things we could never do at home: saw monkeys up close, fed elephants, and Daniel got a front-row look at many versions of the “K-Truck”—a class of vehicle he loves and has his eye on for when he can drive.

We also had wonderful pool time and beach time, of course, which is always relaxing. Beyond those lovely things, there were three stand-out memories for me.

Silver Balls

Daniel found a class in Ubud where we could “make our own” silver jewelry. It was such a cool hands-on experience taking tiny silver balls, melting them, forging them into thin bars, and then flattening, hammering, sanding, and polishing until they looked like the real deal.

The artisan, Dek Edi (“DEC-a-dee”) was super patient and helpful. And (bonus) he didn’t let us burn ourselves—either with the torches or the sulfuric acid used to “pickle” the silver. Also, none of my digits got caught up in his hand-cranked rolling mill.

The DIY aspect was, gratefully, somewhat limited so that I did not leave with the jewelry-equivalent of children’s school-pottery on my finger. Dek Edi stepped in whenever I went too far off-course. So..quite often.

What was such a joy, though, was being able to craft and create next to my son—particularly since neither of us had any prior experience and we learned as we went. Bonus: we left with a very personal memento.

Ukulele Time

Daniel brought his Ukulele on the trip and a recording microphone. Before we left, we made a playlist of potential songs to learn and record while at the beach (which explains why we were walking through Central Park listening to folk music at the front end of the trip).

On Thursday, we spent half a day by the pool (under shade, because skin cancer, duh), working on a couple of songs.

We may have gotten sick of them by day’s end. And the songs we recorded were not perfect by any stretch. But, Daniel strumming the Ukulele pool side—that is a memory that my mama-heart gets to hold onto forever.

Music (wo)Man

I think my favorite memory, though, was our visit to the Adi Musical Factory. Daniel, being musical kid he is, wanted an authentic instrument as a keepsake. We thought we might be able to find something in the wood galleries of Ubud (fantastic places where entire families of artisans hand-craft wooden statuettes). We did find some ornately-carved flutes, but they seemed to be built more to impress the eyes than the ears.

So, we looked up a well-reviewed music shop—and I am so glad that we did.

Adi is, like many other Balinese homes and businesses, an open-air place that is partially covered and partially open to the elements. What we found was less “factory” and more “workshop”. The woman that greeted us at Adi, was one of the most joy-filled and enthusiastic proprietors I’ve ever encountered. If you read the Google Reviews, it is clear that we did not receive special treatment—she’s just one of those people that makes you happy you got to meet her.

After giving Daniel the green light to try the bamboo flutes he came to find, she started bringing him instrument after instrument asking him try them out as well. Each time he played something successfully, she would erupt with this contagious delight:

“Wow, you are already doing it!!!”

I secretly hoped she would never run out of instruments to bring to him to try. But. Eventually, though, he tried them all.

We ended up buying a couple of items—and spent a very modest amount (#Bali). After she rang us up, she couldn’t help herself. She was so excited to have connected us with our instruments that she started handing us free gifts.

So, in addition to the bamboo flute and a few other items, we left with:

• a Balinese mouth harp
• a hand-painted egg-shaker—blue “to match the lady’s shirt,” and
• a wooden Kashaka—not native to Bali but terribly cool for clacking and shaking

Though my description of this woman may sound extra colorful, I can’t understate the impact she had on me. I left her music store feeling like I connected with joy in human-form.

Her delight.

Her pride in her shop.

Her smile.

They made my entire trip better; more memorable

Bali Joy

In general, I found the people of Bali, once again, to be different from Americans in some ways. Probably many ways, but one stood out.

For context: let’s keep in mind that evvvvveryone in Bali has scooters—and I’ve seen whole families travel on the same one together. Also, the traffic (by car) is insane—it can take more than 2 hours to go 25 miles. The drivers will tell you that this is due to infrastructure—public transit is not really a thing. So, scooters are often much faster.

That said, the thought of operating a scooter, myself, in Bali traffic, scares the bejeezus out of me. They weave in and out and get very close to other cars and trucks. There seem to be unwritten rules but, this is where I noticed something.

In Bali, each of our (hired) drivers interacted with others—cars and scooter alike—as if they were all part of an unspoken system. It like a dance—not just choreographed but cooperative.

I never heard shouting or saw visible disgust when someone was cut off. And the only horn-use I ever heard was the light beeps that announce “Hey. I’m here. Be careful. Let’s not crash into each other.”

All of this left me with an overarching impression that, in Bali, people take with them an ongoing idea that they are all “in it together” as one community. One may even call it something like “village life.” 😉

I am definitely leaving this place with the sense that people carry responsibility for more than just their own needs and successes. There’s a willingness to give up some self-focus to make sure others are okay. And. Well. I just think that is something we could all do a little more of.