Eat, Pray, Love

(Dana P.) #1

86


Wayan Nuriyasih is, like Ketut Liyer, a Balinese healer. There are some differences
between them, though. He’s elderly and male; she’s a woman in her late thirties. He’s more of
a priestly figure, somewhat more mystical, while Wayan is a hands-on doctor, mixing herbs
and medications in her own shop and taking care of patients right there on the premises.
Wayan has a little storefront shop in the center of Ubud called “Traditional Balinese Heal-
ing Center.” I’d ridden my bike past it many times on my way down to Ketut’s, noticing it be-
cause of all the potted plants outside the place, and because of the blackboard with the curi-
ous handwritten advertisement for the “Multivitamin Lunch Special.” But I’d never gone into
the place before my knee got messed up. After Ketut sent me to find a doctor, though, I re-
membered the shop and came by on my bicycle, hoping somebody there might be able to
help me deal with the infection.
Wayan’s place is a very small medical clinic and home and restaurant all at the same
time. Downstairs there’s a tiny kitchen and a modest public eating area with three tables and
few chairs. Upstairs there’s a private area where Wayan gives massages and treatments.
There’s one dark bedroom in the back.
I limped into the shop with my sore knee and introduced myself to Wayan the healer—a
strikingly attractive Balinese woman with a wide smile and shiny black hair down to her waist.
There were two shy young girls hiding behind her in the kitchen who smiled when I waved to
them, then ducked away again. I showed Wayan my infected wound and asked if she could
help. Soon Wayan had water and herbs boiling up on the stove, and was making me drink
jamu—traditional Indonesian homemade medicinal concoctions. She placed hot green leaves
on my knee and it started to feel better immediately.
We got to talking. Her English was excellent. Because she is Balinese, she immediately
asked me the three standard introductory questions—Where are you going today? Where are
you coming from? Are you married?
When I told her I wasn’t married (“Not yet!”) she looked taken aback.
“Never been married?” she asked.

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