"That crunchy thing was, maybe, a hot dried pepper." "No no, that thing was HARD." I had to stop eating. For the sake of keeping my back teeth. Jay and I sit here at an outdoor restaurant. The menu items have been consistent everywhere we have been. Nasi Goreng, Gado-Gado, and this new menu item that we decided to attempt "Pelecing Kangkung." "What is it?" "Watttterrr, Speeenachee, Sprout. You like." "Yes, one please." I nod my head and smell the dish at least five meters before it reaches the table. Fish. Mashed, red hump of fish. So...I wrap the "spinach" (it's no spinach i've ever seen) around my fork and go for it. "Umm, that's not really ok." "I'll try it." I feel the crease in my nose as it turns up at the thought. So Jay tries a bite, and I try another without fish on my fork. "O, babe. That's bad. That's terrible. What is that? That's rotten. O, that's definitely rotten." Some bad dishes are consumed for the sake of the gamble. This one is the first we decided to let stink up the section of the table the furthest away from us. We went to a market yesterday. Picture this. You hop on a motorbike, buckle the worn helmet under your chin, and merge into the left lane. They drive on the left hand side here. In Singapore, in Bali. There were no roads in Trawangan and the hilly curves of Senggigi on Lombok follow suit of driving left. We proceed about twenty miles, going around slower bikes and horse carriages. Everything is dirty. At different points in the ride you are consumed with the fragrance of decay or the rain. You see locals surrounding random little carts that sell Petrol (gas) in old Absolut bottles. 6,000 Rupiah a bottle. Gets you about half of a tank or so. Anyway, these locals gather randomly to sit around and drowned in the heat. By three o'clock they have at least one arm hanging closer to the ground than their feet. It's the heat. The humidity. The boredom. It's been raining here though. The last two days have been a big change getting used to not sweating the entire day. The beads of sweat just drip off of everyone and many of the locals smell worse than the bums in San Diego. OK, focus. Jay keeps showing me places in Bali. We're heading back there in the next couple of weeks. So we're motorbiking...past these people falling off of their chairs or laying on random bamboo or wood pallets...past the lush green...past the rice fields...past the heaps of trash and the random cows and chickens feeding off of it. Past the half built buildings that have become abandoned...past some people's everyday lives. We decide to stop at what could be compared to a strip mall. A very old, very dirty, run down strip mall. Think of the garmet district in LA. Times ten for dirt and twenty for lack of air flow. Now, enter the building...and walk endlessly deeper and deeper, darker and darker...smellier and msellier into what seems to be an entire underground world. I would have looked for Splinter had I been gutsy enough to bring those brownies with me...so we pass the clothes for sale. The locals reaching for my arm, letting jibberish fall from their mouths...we proceed to the food. O, the food. The bowls of dried fish, filleted open. Placed so conveniently next to the bowls of rice and heaps of brown eggs. They do not refridgerate eggs here. Or milk. Ever. You can only imagine the smell. The lack of air flow. The humidity. These people. Then, one local woman, sitting cross-legged on a platform of some sort, caught my attention. My entire existence tunneled in solely on her. She grabbed a piece of brown waxed paper, shoved her hand into a bowl filled with inch ish sized gummy balls, grabbed, threw, and covered with white shreds. We meet eyes. She picks one ball from the pile and hands it to me. I accept, hold it in my hand and let our eyes meet again. She motions her hand toward her mouth and back again. So, I eat it. Squirted in my mouth. It was delicious!! I came to find it (after later google research) it was Klepon with coconut on it. Somewhat similar to mochi with a brown palm sugar in the middle. The things had to just be terrible for you but the entire market threw rose colored lenses over itself. It was life and it was beautiful. It was smelly and dirty and ugly and fun! It was broken down and trashy and fully filled with life. It was where the locals would come everyday to grab the local produce (covered in flies) to feed their families. It was real. Life has been this adventure. I have moments where I find myself considering panic. It only lasts seconds and it only comes about once a day. When I'm squatting to pee while standing in water or who knows what. Or when the transportation I'm sitting in seems as safe as a three year old driving my Dad's little Miada. I am thoughly enjoying the adventure. It's the moments when you connect with a local with no language at all, or the incredible sunsets that literally take your breath away. It's the moments you remember how thankful you should be and moments when you realize that standing in pee just doesn't really matter. Ok, ok. Jay is getting anxious here. (He's made himself out to be quite the partner in crime. I feel safe with him and that is really the most important thing living life this way. I get to know him better every day and falling him makes me smile even typing it.) Bye for now. Enjoy your hot shower and clean bath towel! Not everyone is so priveleged. Sorry for any grammar/spelling errors. Some people don't even have the privelege of written language so please don't judge me. ,-)