A Not-So-Strange Episode. Or Two.

Sometimes this little Bali jaunt really does feel like an episode straight from Fear and Loathing. Like when we have to flee Nusa Lembongan after a nasty altercation with the ferry tickets guy. Or when my teacher and I screech off as an old woman demands money from us. Or when, thwarted by bus schedules, I have to abandon a morning trip to Sanur and slink through the blissfully cool and empty streets of morning Ubud to regroup and lick my figurative wounds at Bali Buddha. But then again, it really isn't like anything the good doctor did in the American Southwest, and that's not just because I'm in the Indonesian Southeast.

Actually, I just did a little something I like to call "withholding information for dramatic effect," which is another way of taking my low-key adventures and making them sound vastly more exciting for you guys when in fact they were simply fun. From the top: Nusa Lembongan is a little island, still part of Bali, off the Southeast coast. Some of us went out on the oh-so-fun ferry (kind of rickety, but also great, especially when you ride on the roof)to relax on pristine beaches for a couple of days. Catch was, most of the people we met were in the tourism industry and therefore jaded towards all Westerners, even if we're nice students with a grasp of Bahasa trying to understand the culture. So they weren't so friendly, especially not this ferry tickets dude. The morning we were trying to head out, there was an exact change issue between us (plus a couple of Canadian friends we made- it's nice to meet pleasant travelers), and Marissa ended up being shorted 40,000 rupiah. It's four bucks American, but still not okay, so she asked for her change and the guy looked confused and gave her his money to count- exactly the amount he should have had. But it didn't make sense, so she persisted and he eventually gave in, but made us all feel bad. But why would he give in if he was really right? And what happened to the four 10,000 rupiah bills that we had paid him, not present in his wad of cash? And why didn't he show us what was in his pockets, nasty Bagginses? Victorious but rattled, we fled the island feeling righteous. First story down.

The second relates to work, but work is boring, but this is relevant: remember Nongan, the village that extracted blood tribute when I last visited? I returned on Thanksgiving to finish what I had started, namely interviewing people about active worship of Pan Balang Tamak, the trickster. I was driving with my teacher, Pak Yudi, and we had to turn around in the narrow country road. So he was backing into a driveway, but one of our wheels ended up in the little ditch by the side of the road. We hopped out, and a woman (whose driveway is was) came up and smiled and started saying no worries, we'll help. Then her grandson and husband came and pushed with me and the car popped right out. It was so easy I probably could have done it myself. But then the woman came up to me, no longer smiling, and started saying speaking in Balinese. I also heard "uang," which means money in Bahasa Indonesia, so I feigned ignorance and told her to talk with Pak Yudi. I hopped in and she came to the window and started in again, so Pak Yudi just waved and sped off into Nongan, laughing. I asked what was up, and he said that she was trying to ask for money (probably because I was a whitey), which was absurd. His rationale was that she shouldn't get used to being paid just to help a stranger in need, so he had decided to stylishly avoid the situation. It was a fun moment.

So that's two counts of us getting the better of avaricious people, something that delights me and makes all the other incidences of swindling a bit better. And those are the kinds of adventures I've been having (that word gets thrown around about five times a post)- business-related but still fun. On to the not-so-fun, I've realized that my time here has almost come to an end. Two weeks from Tuesday and I'll be on a plane heading home. Thoughts of home have sustained me through all the dark times (and the boring and even the not-dark times; I like daydreaming), but now I realize how hard it's going to be to leave this new way of life behind. We've all met some really cool people, and become a small, fifth-business-y part of this world. It's kind of cruel that study abroad has to end so soon. So that's some irony for you; I've gone full circle from relative indifference to dread to growing adaptation and excitement to now acceptance and actual regret that I'll be leaving. On the positive side, it's not like Bali's going anywhere (physically, yet), so I could always come back. And keep in touch with friends and family here. And be, you know, forevermore culturally sensitive and worldly and stuff. It's been real, but now I've got to start appreciating the end of the journey. And doing that work thing too; I'm technically still a student. But that sounds like a job for later.