Eat, Pray, Love

once went on a pilgrimage to Mount Agung, the biggest and most spiritually important volcano
on Bali, but he said the energy was so powerful there he could scarcely meditate for fear he
might be consumed by sacred fire. He goes to the temples for the big important ceremonies
and he is invited to his neighbors’ homes to perform weddings or coming-of-age rituals, but
most of the time he can be found right here, cross-legged upon this bamboo mat, surrounded
by his great-grandfather’s palm-leaf medical encyclopedias, taking care of people, mollifying
demons and occasionally treating himself to a cup of coffee with sugar.
“I had a dream from you last night,” he told me today. “I had a dream you are riding your
bicycle anywhere.”
Because he paused, I suggested a grammatical correction. “Do you mean, you had a
dream that I was riding my bicycle everywhere?”
“Yes! I dream last night you are riding your bicycle anywhere and everywhere. You are so
happy in my dream! All over world, you are riding your bicycle. And I following you!”
Maybe he wishes he could...
“Maybe you can come see me someday in America, Ketut,” I said.
“Can’t, Liss.” He shook his head, cheerfully resigned to his destiny. “Don’t have enough
teeth to travel on airplane.”
Eat, Pray, Love