I’ve most definitely not “landed.” The idea of the three months ahead crashed over me like the waves from a tsunami, unexpected and seemingly larger than life. I’m enveloped in the crazy waters, with no intention of swimming back to the shore, where it is safe but dry. I’m letting the salty waters soak in, burning the soars that I have, but cleansing them. The waves will push me where they must.
When Hannah, a friend, and I walked off of the plane we were surprised by how tan the departing tourists were. We’ve landed in a tropical Mecca, where the flight attendants wear hot pink dress suits. During my hour-long taxi ride, I thought about making my first impression at the clinic. Of course, when i got there every idea I had about what I was going to do upon arrival was lost. I have a large place with a sink and a fridge all to myself. I appreciate the space I have to spend some time by myself. Last night I slept with the sounds of an incessantly barking dog, a rooster that doesn’t have a sense of time, and torrential rains. This morning I walked back to the clinic and another volunteer, Toba, swept me off and showed me the sacred monkey forest, downtown Ubud (where part of Eat Pray Love was filmed), and a yummy restaurant. At the monkey forest, the monkeys are so cute. I shook a little monkey’s hand and he climbed up my arm and tried to steal my sunglasses. Then an alpha male almost pulled my skirt off. I love this wild life.
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