It’s a good thing that flights coming into Bali usually arrive in the middle of the night – thereby wisely avoiding entanglement with the flocks of kites sailing, most certainly, at airplane altitudes.
It’s also a really good thing I like walking. In fact, one of the first phrases I’ve learned is how to say I like walking – saya suka jalan jalan; or as per Tineke’s instructions, it’s better to say jalan kaki. Hiking the Campuhan Ridge with Peter and Steve today confirmed it, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
You can bet it’s a good thing that roosters are caged overnight in overturned rattan bell-shaped baskets; not the most street-savvy of creatures, they’d surely be running amok – and run over – all over the streets of Ubud.
Such a amazingly good thing that Miguel Covarrubios scribed the seminal work, Island of Bali, in 1937 – for how else could I have begun to scratch the surface of all things Balinese, culture, ritual, festivals, calendar and family?
Oh, what a good thing it is that Linda’s yoga studio is located right across town, thus giving me the perfect excuse to arise earlier than others, pass the market when locals are out in full force, buying produce for the day ahead, laying out offerings at temples, on sidewalks and, yes, even on the windshields of cars.
Good thing (and timing) that Lucinda and Pakman taught me the Balinese way of responding to pushy taxi drivers; Munking besok – not even tomorrow – they offered, that’s the way to go, they’ll leave you alone after that.
It’s an entirely good thing that there’s a downpour once in awhile… to drown out the ruckus of dogs, roosters and cars and bikes roaring down the road outside my window. Or at least it makes them move inside so other than the monotonous sound of falling rain, it’s peaceful.
Let the good things roll, rain down, surround and smother me ad nauseum; for all these good things and so many more, I am downright grateful.