Random Randomness

The sweeter it is, the faster I drink it. This Indonesian tea is getting the best of me. I sit at the thatched roof hut in front of the place we call home and find comfort in each sip (or gulp) of this hot tea. Today, Jay and I caught a ride (in an actual Mitsubishi Truck) to a somewhat nearby beach we've fallen in love with. Mawi. No spelling error there, Mawi. I have to say...it's actually more breathtaking than the Hawaiian Island it's so closely named. I already finished my tea. Dang it. Now to debate getting another. It's times like these I'm reminded I am an American. I opt out of the second cup. For now.  Anyway, Jay and I went to look at some beach property for sale. It was likely the wisest investment we could make at this point in our lives. But, o ya, that one minor detail...money. It's $333,000 for 50 Are. It's a pretty decent hunk of land. And the location couldn't be more ideal. More tranquil. More perfect. We let them take us past the airport, along the bumpy road, through the deep sand, up the mountain, across the goat path, through the water buffalo pasture, and to this little makeshift hut near a mountain. There, we met an old man with a body that suggested he has worked this land his entire life. He moved a curtain of leaves from the base of a tree near his makeshift home. He used the long knife he held in his hand to sound against a small chunk of concrete behind the leaf curtain. The young, thin gentleman that drove us out interprets, "this is where the property begins." We then step over the green growth that covered every inch of the Earth and possible sand below us. We make it to the next corner which happens to be another tree. "This is the back of the property, from the cement to this tree." I look over. "Dang babe, this is a HUGE piece of land." About 100 meters. We then walk toward the ocean. You can not own the beach itself so we stop when we get to the sand that was covered with the earlier high tide. I look back to the trees. "What!? I want this."  "Me too." We make our way across the deep quinoa'ed sand to the last corner of the lot for sale. "Wow."  We took pictures, talked in dreams, and made the hike back to the truck. The local talked to locals and I pulled a bag of banana chips from my purse to indulge Jay. We rode back, "Terima Kasih'd" the driver and now I write. Jay surfs.  This morning, we saw children playing with kites they had made from trash bags. It was innovative. But hit home. They weren't even new bags. They didn't mind. The five of them ran around and laughed when the 'kite' hit the ground and bounced up into its own dancing swoop.  I'm getting really used to it here. I know that I will miss it when we leave. We've been here, in Kuta, for over a week now. I didn't really know what to do with my time at first...but now, Jay and I have our little routine down and it feels like home here. We have made friends in the form of a local family that we visit for at least one meal a day. (Normally vegetable curry with tempeh...SO DELICIOUS!!) (You just have to know where to get it)...the mom is a doll. She caught a liking to Jay the first time we went in there. The second time, she remembered what he had ordered the first time and I remembered that I was to remember her. Lol, but seriously, she's a very sweet lady. And she cooks great food! The little girl is adorable. She's eight years old and has the poise of Audrey Hepburn (in her better characters) with short hair to match. She has a piggy bank she has been saving all of her change in. Change is still in bill form here so her lifting the pot she calls a bank gave no jiggle of success. Her mom said that she almost has 20,000 Rupiah!! (That's two dollars. TWO DOLLARS!!) I would get more than that when my tooth fell out. Or when my mom would let me keep the change for buying an ice cream or something. So, naturally, I doubled her money. With intention of contributing more, of course. We have a little pup there too! We call him Brindle. I talk to him in my little puppy voice and Jay thinks I'm cute. (He told me, I try to not be so smug naturally...) I give Brindle my left overs and he has a cute little cry when he begs. He is a stray...they all are. It's really sad. We walked by a kitten today, probably could fit in my hands, that was malnourished. "Well, she doesn't have much longer." It hurts to hear but the realities here are to be acknowledged not burdened. I find it so easy to ask Jay, "what would you do to help, what would you change?" He says mindset. Give a sense of pride. So the locals spend more time picking their trash up off of their beautiful beaches and building better homes. It's a good answer for a question that doesn't have one. It's a piece of the puzzle. We know that. It would be too big a task for any one person or one thing to work. And they seem happy with their lives...so maybe it simply is what it is and my only job is to accept life on life's terms. I still feel it nonetheless.  I got to help teach a teacher!! We both did. It was great. He came up to Jay in a market we were in and asked him where he was from. "America." He asked if it was 'correct to say that a widow is a woman whose husband has died or divorced.' I popped into the conversation and we found ourselves correcting the workbook that serves as the teachers English teaching bible. We scratched and rewrote, scratched and rewrote. The thing must have been from the fifties. Full of random spellings errors and misnomers. We giggled and I rewrote some of his handwritten paragraphs and explained differences and more correct options. I listed my prepositions and wondered why I hold onto such random information. I explained the differences in military branches and talked about our government. It was a blast!!  Jay and I met an Aussie girl (from Australia) that opened up a restaurant on the beach. The property is owned by the government but many of the locals (and Aussie's, apparently) just built on it. Randomness selling randomness. I would do the same thing, make a buck while I could. It's sad to see that it will all be taken away from them. They build little huts and sell surrongs (sp?)...sleep in the back on a bamboo table with a blanket or two, put their babies in a hammock, and use the corner of the table as a home for the bowls they eat out of and buckets they fill with water from the community drum. I wonder how often they kick the bucket while they're sleeping. Not even funny. Ok, I should go for a run. I haven't actually worked out (besides yoga/doesn't really count) since I've been gone. Cheers.