It feels as if I have been procrastinating about this trip. Every morning Dewa comes and asks what I would like for breakfast, and I give him one or two slices of spelt bread, and he returns with nice scrambled eggs with tomatoes and onions, and my spelt toast, and a tall glass of fresh tropical fruit juice, and a dish of fresh sliced papayas, bananas and pineapples. Then he sits and watches me eat while we chat about various things. Often I will stash the fruit and the juice in my little refrigerator and have them later.

Dewa tells me that Balinese name their children by numbers, from one to ten, regardless of their sex. But nowadays the government discourages people from having more than two children, because most people cannot afford to support a larger family. The Balinese word for first is Wayan, which is why it is such a popular name. Second is Made. Third is Neoman. Fourth is Katut. When you add an “I” it indicates a man; like my friend, I Made. “Ne” indicates a woman. Wayantaka means “older sister of Wayan.” And Wayanadik means “younger sister of Wayan.” And (if I got it right) Butuwayan means “sister of Wayan,” and Ebuwayan means “wife of Wayan.” Ebu means aunt or sister, or simply a term of respect. So Dewa and the others addressed me as Ebujoy.

Every morning I tell Dewa, “Tomorrow I will take the bike.”

In my room there is a nice yellow laminated flyer that tells about a great trip that you can take up to Mt. Batur. The bike trip is not very expensive; just about $35 US, and that includes meals.

But since I learned that I didn’t get the royalties that I hoped to receive (sad to say, the sales on my new book, Vibrational Healing through the Chakras, have not been doing well, and the old book, Color and Crystals, has been out-of-print, waiting for the new edition) I’ve had to be quite frugal, and besides, I’ve been awfully busy. But it turns out that Dewa can provide me with a bicycle for my trip to find Ketut Liyer, for just $2 for the day.

“I’m really going to do it today, Dewa. I’m going to rent the bike.”

“You’re going to see Ketut Liyer?” he asks knowingly. We’ve talked about his daughter who was born with a hole in her heart, and how the doctors say that she needs an operation. But that would put him into major debt, probably for the rest of his life. Right now he just makes about 500,000 rupiah a month (which is pretty good in
Bali, especially since the bombings), and that is just barely enough to support his family with two kids. So we’ve both wondered if possibly one of the traditional healers could do anything about a hole in the heart?

“Yes,” I say with determination, “today is the day,” as I finish up my breakfast, mentally going over the list of things I need to do before I leave, so that I can get off by 9:30 at the latest, before it starts getting hot.

He puts out the bike for me; the one with the basket in front, and I buzz over to the internet cafe. There is some important business that needs to be taken care of right away, so by the time I get back, it’s after ten. The Balinese tend to take a long lunch break and nap from around 11 until about 2 or 3, but if you walk into their home or business during these times, they will politely get up and take care of you.

I wish I had gotten an early start. But I didn’t, and I’m afraid that if I put off this trip again, I may not make it. I may want to leave Ubud in a couple days, and I have plans for tomorrow and the next day, so I need to go today—even though I am feeling kind of depleted after yesterday’s bout with diarrhea.

“Maybe this isn’t such a great idea,” I think to myself as I pack a little lunch with sliced apple (the pectin is good for diarrhea) and a spelt bread sandwich with tahini and honey) and a bottle of water.

I am intimidated. I rarely get intimidated, but I am intimidated. This is twice as far as I’ve gone, in a whole different direction, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to find people out there who speak English, and I don’t know what the roads are like. I consider hiring a driver, but that would be a bit pricey, and I need the exercise, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable having the driver hang out while I’m taking as much time as I want, to be with this person. I don’t know if he will even be there, or have time to be with me, or want to be with me.

I do have a strong impulse to take my crystals. I have the feeling that he will enjoy looking at them. That means taking a heavy pack (not the heavy one I take on the plane, but still, a pretty heavy one). When I go out to the bike, I’m relieved to find that the pack fits into the basket. I guide the bike down the narrow lane, past the children shrieking as they chase after the white chicken that has been dyed bright pink, and out to Monkey Forest Road, a one-way road with bikes and motorbikes that go in both directions.

I wait patiently until the traffic thins, and then I try to get the bike going with one foot on the outer pedal and hop on with the other, but with the heavy bag in the basket, the bike weaves wildly from side to side until I finally get it fairy under control. When I look up I see a group of Balinese smiling and laughing as one heavy guy imitates me, weaving the top of his body back and forth, pretending he’s holding onto handlebars. I think it’s pretty funny, and we all laugh as I weave on by.

Although it takes me considerably out of my way, I try to stay with the predominant one-way flow of traffic. So I feel pretty flustered when I find myself on an even narrower street, going the wrong way. I try to hug to the right side and stay along the curb, and I have to powerfully will everyone who passes me on a motorbike going in the opposite direction to pass me along my left side so I can feel safe hugging the right curb.

After awhile I smarten up and remind myself that even if I am going the wrong way on this street, I would do better to be on the LEFT side of the street (on the jagged side, next to where the cars jut out because they’re all parked at an angle) because people in this country DO drive on the left side of the road.

I come to a mysterious juncture that wasn’t on the map as I recalled, and I want to ask somebody but there is no one to ask, so I take a leap of faith and just follow my instinct, going straight and hoping for the best. By now I’m in the proper flow of traffic.

Soon the road plummets downhill into a dark jungle. I don’t mind going down, but I’m terrified of having to come back up on this one-speed bicycle. So I get off and walk the bike down so I can scope it out and change my mind if necessary, though there’s hardly any place to walk. Soon I see that the road does flatten out after awhile, so I take my chances and ride the bike down the hill while seriously questioning my sanity. I do not have a helmet. I wish I had that Lloyd’s of London Traveler’s Insurance for $600 a year. CANCEL! (That’s what I say when I have negative thoughts and I want to avoid programming them into my subconscious.)

Now it’s time to ride the bike up another hill, and I try to get some speed but the gears are too loose, and as I rise up out of my seat to pump, reminding myself of how well that worked when I was with my monk friend in Japan, somehow the bike just doesn’t have enough traction, and I’m working very hard and accomplishing little.

Finally I just get off the bike, huffing and puffing, and walk the rest of the way up the hill. It is now 11:30 and the sun is at its zenith, and the sweat is pouring down my face, making it difficult for me to see. My chest feels tender and I am totally wiped out.

I find a grassy place to sit down. I’m grateful that I brought along some food. I nibble on the apple and tahini-and-honey sandwich, willing myself to find strength from the honey.

I’m not even sure I’m on the right road. It was really dumb to have gone out in the middle of the day. It’s so hot! I haven’t seen any of the landmarks on the map (though I’ve been too preoccupied to look for them). I definitely need to ask someone for help.

I study the map carefully and determine that I need to find a major intersection with a road that crosses on the right and the left. It takes awhile, but finally I do come to such a road. At first I cavalierly pass the road, confident that I know where I’m going. (I can’t read the street signs.) But then I realize that I should have turned left at that intersection.

So I double back, and make the turn, and I don’t see anybody to ask, so I just resolutely head off in that direction.

After a fairly long time, I get really really convinced that I need to ask someone, so I stop my bike. There’s a big car repair place. I go inside and ask, and show them the map. No one speaks English, and they don’t seem very good at reading maps, and they don’t know who Ketut Liyer is, and the only thing that everybody is sure about (because several people have gathered by now) is that I should go back. I’ve gone too far, or too much in the wrong direction. “Go back.”

But I’m too tired to go anywhere. There’s a beauty parlor with a big bench in front of it. I sit down on the bench and close my eyes and pretend that people aren’t staring at me. I’m quite exhausted. I’m kind of ready to give up the whole idea. I wonder if my bike would fit into one of those cabs? (They’re really just big vans.) Honestly, I just want to go back to my room.

Then I get a brilliant idea. This is an emergency, right? And in an emergencies, you resort to emergency tactics. I need something to make myself strong. I will drink a Coke! (It is much too hot for a coffee.)

A nice cold Coke sounds like a great idea. It always blows my mind that I can walk into any restaurant or convenience store in the world and purchase what, for me, is pure amphetamine. So, with this hopeful thought in mind, I go back to the intersection where I made that left turn, and again I look for someone to ask. There’s a place where a young guy is selling cell phones. He’s sitting on a stool, smoking a cigarette. He takes one look at me and says, in English, “Park your bike here. Sit down,” He gestures toward another stool.

I gratefully accept his invitation, and then I open my map. He looks at it with me, and decides that I passed my intersection a long time ago (probably when I was obsessing about going up and down those hills). Then I ask him about Ketut Liyer and he says (Thank God!) “Yes — back,” he gestures back toward Ubud. “Banyon tree. Sign. Want buy paintings?”

“No,” I say, knowing that Liyer also is an artist. Then I try the word I learned from Dewa: “Fo-man-ku.” That means healer.

“You sick?”

“No, I’m a healer too. And I want him to read my palm.”

“Oh!”

“Where can I get a Coke?”

“There!” he points to the store next door. “My Mother.”

I go into the store through the back door. It looks more like his sister. I can’t see a cooler, but I ask and she points to a little refrigerator. I get out a cold can of Coke, and gratefully hold it up against my hot face. I pay and make my way back to my new friend.

I sit on the stool next to this young Balinesian guy and we don’t talk much but local people keep going by on motorbikes and waving at him and gossiping a little and laughing. He seems to know at least half the people in this neighborhood. One guy parks his bike and walks over to join us. Another guy comes over to check out a cell phone.

I can’t finish the Coke, but I leave the can with him, thank him for his help, and ride back toward Ubud. A little bit of caffeine goes a long way. It’s still awfully hot, but then I remember that I have a little green hat in my pack that Chisan gave me. I fish it out and put it on and say to myself, “This is my lucky hat!”

Now I’m riding along, looking for an intersection with a road that goes in both directions, when I notice a sign for Café Arma. Wasn’t that one of the landmarks I was looking for? I hastily pull off the road and start going through my pack to look for my map when I hear a friendly voice say in good English, “You look tired. Come sit over here.”

I look up to see a young swarthy Balinese man, dressed in traditional costume with an elegantly folded scarf on his head. “Come!” he gestures, “sit down next to me.” He leads me over to a couch in an outdoor receiving area for an art gallery. “Would you like a cold drink?” he asks. “It’s free.”

I love when these Guardian Angels appear out of nowhere, just when you need them!

I politely decline the drink, but I ask if he knows Ketut Liyer. “Oh yes! He lives down there,” he responds. Then he looks at the map with me, and tells me exactly where I must go. We settle in and talk about all kinds of things. He tells me what towns I should go to if I’m interested in woodcarvings, or in paintings, or in silver or gold. I kind of perk up about silver and gold, since I make jewelry, and he offers to take me there sometime on his motorcycle. What a kind man! He gives me his card, and urges me to come back.

Fortified and reassured, I set out to find Ketut Liyer. I am thinking to myself that yes, it would have been easier to have taken a taxi (or to get a ride on a motorbike, as someone pointed out later), but just think of all the nice encounters I would have missed!

I find the street and it feels just like walking through Hopiland. I see someone and ask, “Ketut Liyer?” He points to the right. I go for awhile then ask someone else; a little Chinese-looking man with a gray moustache and a traditional cap. He can’t speak a word of English, but he gestures with enthusiasm. When I make a wrong turn, he runs after me, talking and gesturing.

Finally I am standing in front of a compound that has a sign: “Ketut Liyer, Paintings.” I congratulate myself. It is now about 2:30. I’m glad I got an early start on this trip instead of waiting until afternoon. But I wonder if he’ll be asleep, or with patients? Elizabeth wrote that sometimes he had many many patients.

I walk into the compound. It always amazes me, in Bali, how elegant these buildings can be, even in the midst of such poverty. A woman greets me. I ask for him by name. She gestures for me to sit on the couch in a kind of waiting area. I sit down and try to recuperate. But I am definitely exhausted.

I sit with my eyes closed and try to gather my strength. Finally the door of the building on the left opens and he comes out. He is a barefoot little Balinese man with a huge toothless grin, wearing a sarong and a white T-shirt. The energy just radiates off of him. I feel welcomed at once.

He sits down on the floor of the lanai and leans against a post, and gestures for me to sit down in front of him and lean against another post. It feels like we’ve known each other forever. We talk about this and that, and he tells me that he has a bad headache. Then I remember that I brought my crystals, and I go into my bag and take out the large bag of crystals and spread them out on the floor.

He loves them! He goes right up to the Chinese bluegreen obsidian and asks if he can touch it, and then he holds it up to his head. He also has a bad cough, so he holds it up to his chest. Then he tries some other stones, and we talk about the stones and how I use them, and he’s quite delighted, like a little child.

This man reminds me so much of Grandfather David Monogye in Hopiland. I knew David when he was 83, just before he went blind. I was with my friend Paul, and my son Kalon was six months old. I just knew I had to go to Hopiland, and we ended up staying there for a month. It was so good to be with David; nothing in particular that I needed to learn from him; it was just about BEING. It changed my life. It is such an honor to be in the presence of these elders.

I offer to do a Vibrational Alignment for Ketut, but he’s not into it. However, after awhile, when I offer to do something about that headache, he accepts. I sit up close to him, our knees touching, and I close my eyes and put both my hands on his head. I’m not sure this will work, but I can feel the energy moving in his head, and it feels confused and all over the place. I’m pleased when I feel the impulse to make sounds.

It’s a little intimidating to be making shamanic sounds for a Balinese shaman. I’ve never done anything like this before. Although I did once make aboriginal sounds for a man who had lived with the aborigines, and he said they were absolutely familiar to him. But I’ve learned to put my ego aside when doing this work, so I make an effort to put those thoughts out of my head.

“Do you mind if I make some sounds?” I ask, opening my eyes, and seeing his big smile. He nods his approval and I close my eyes, feeling for the sounds that want to come out; the sounds that somehow describe the pain, the misalignment of energy, the pressure and confusion that I feel in his head.

The sounds are not dramatic (as they often are!), but they are powerful. There’s some grumbing. Then some sounds of confusion. Then some high-pitched squeaking sounds that make us both giggle. I feel my hands making gestures, as if to let off steam from his head. I keep all this up for awhile, then suddenly I feel it is done. I remove my hands.

He gives me a huge smile and he says, “You ARE a healer! A VERY GOOD healer!”

His headache was gone and so was his cough. Now that he felt better, I asked him to read my palm. He reached out with his long Balinese hand with the long fingernails, and oh so gently stroked the side of my face as he brushed my hair behind my ear. Then he took my left palm and gently squeezed my hand a little from side to side so that the lines became deeper and easier to read, and then he said I’d live to be 104. He said I had a Very Big Heart, and a very healthy heart, and that I am strong. He saw the four marriages and the two children on the side of my left hand, and he said I would not marry again.

Then he looked at the back of my neck, and he told me that the Rice God was watching over me.

Then he went and brought me three of his beautiful Balinese magical drawings. He urged me to photograph them, so I could show them to you. They are extraordinary and they hold a definite power. It is a great sadness for me that when I got back to the mainland, the shelf that held my laptop had been improperly inserted, and it fell out, carrying the laptop with it, and it went crashing to the ground, wiping out my hard drive. All my photos for the rest of the trip were on the hard drive and had not been backed up.

The first drawing was the Goddess Saraswati. She holds the lotus flower and the lute and if I had $200, and space in my suitcase, I would have bought that drawing.

The second drawing shows a figure with double eyes, no head, and double legs. This one is about strength.

The third is about sexual magic. It shows two partners, completely entwined as one. He said, “I blessed this one for Liz (Elizabeth Gilbert). She married now. Happy.”

I think the idea is that if you buy a drawing, and if he prays over it for you, then the magic becomes yours.

I asked if I could take his photo. He was shy because “I used to be very handsome before I lost my teeth.” I told him how beautiful he is because his spirit shines through. But still, he was a little self-conscious, so I couldn’t capture his spirit quite as much as I would have liked.

Then we said goodbye, and he urged me to come back and to bring people.

The bike ride back took about twenty minutes, and it was amazingly easy. Dewa was sitting out front, as he often does, trying to drum up business for the bungalow. “How did it go?” he asks.

“It was good,” I say, “but I’m exhausted. Next time I should get a bike with gears!”

“It does have gears,” he says, and shows me how to twist the handle to activate the three gears. No wonder I couldn’t get any traction going uphill! It was in high gear.

IT IS FINALLY TIME TO FINISH MY STORIES!

The next day when he came to get me on his motorbike, I was wearing pants, and I asked for a helmet. “Why?” he asked. I just shrugged my shoulders. He let me wear his helmet.

This time the ride felt much less traumatic, and definitely shorter.

On our second visit we settled in at the temple, and he asked me to write my name on a piece of paper (just as Wayan had done). Then he asked the names of my mother and father and wrote those above and below my name. Then he lit some incense and passed it over the paper.

I learned the importance of the placement of chakras on the hand. This time Made diagnosed my chakras by touching his index finger to the chakra points on my left and right hands. He explained that we would both feel a slight electric shock at each point if the energy was open.

As he touched the points on my right hand, they were all open except for the third eye. When he touched the points on my left hand, they were all open except for the second and the fifth. The heart chakra, the fourth, was very strong, and the aura overall was very strong. This all made sense to me, given what I know about myself. The partial closure at my third eye probably relates to my inability to see auras.

In fact, Made was quite surprised that the chakras did not light up for me. As I thought about it, I realized that while I inherited my mother’s psychic sensitivity, I also probably took on some her fear about her clairvoyance. She could see into the future, and this sometimes frightened her. If she saw, for example, that someone was going to have an accident, then she didn’t know whether to tell them or not. She was afraid that if she told them, they would think she was crazy; but if she didn’t tell them, and the accident happened, then she was feel responsible because perhaps she could have prevented it.

My mother’s way of coping with this dilemma was to pray for her “gift” to be taken away. And it was. Except on rare occasions, when it involved members of her immediate family.

For example, in between my two sons I gave birth to a little girl. She was born with the cord wrapped round her neck, and she died. My mother, who was not invited to the birth, came anyway, because she “knew” that I would lose the baby, and she wanted to be there to help. Of course, she didn’t tell me this until later.

I have a very powerful technique for working on Reprogramming Core Beliefs, and I saw that it would be valuable for me to do this. Meanwhile, however, I thought I would take this opportunity to see what Made would suggest. He told me that normally he would give a person a mudra and a mantra and a chant and some yoga postures to work on for a month, and sometimes that would make a difference. Now I knew why Lumena was doing so much chanting next door! She’d been working with Made for a month, and she was indeed beginning to see auras.

I felt a bit torn about all this. First, I still wanted to see Ketut Liyer, and my funds were very limited. Second, both Made and I were a bit skeptical about whether having just one more session was going to make any significant difference. Nonetheless, I was quite curious about learning the mudra and the mantra, so I did make one more appointment.

Also we were talking about doing a bit of collaborating if I would bring a group of students to Bali. So I felt that I also wanted to experience more of his energy. So the next time we got together, in my room at Jati3, I suggested that I could feel his chakras. He was so cute! He put his hands together like a little child and said, “You heal me? Oh good! Everybody needs healing! Should I take off my shirt? What do you want me to do?”

The total absence of macho energy in Balinese men never fails to amaze and delight me. They are so willing to be vulnerable and soft. What a difference from most American men. This is truly a culture where the men where skirts (sarongs), and I honestly think that does make a difference!

So I did feel his chakras, and there was really only one small problem that I addressed with the crystals. And then I offered to do some shamanic sounding for him. He said that would be fine. So as usual, I just put my mind aside and allowed the sounds to come through. And they were quite powerful.

When I was done he sat up and looked into my eyes. “You have everything you need. Don’t mess with it.”

That was what I thought all along. Maybe I just came to Bali to hear someone else say that to me. I was grateful for this acknowledgement.

I’m going to jump ahead of my story. In real time, I’m getting ready to leave Bali tomorrow night. I’ll be heading back to the monastery in Japan for 8 days. Then I’ll be going to Denver for the International New Age Trade Show, and then to Portland for a few days and on to Bend, Oregon, where I’ll chill out for a couple of weeks before I head up to Alaska, to camp out and then teach at an Herbal Conference.

As I’m packing to go, this is the perfect time to share my personal recommendations to anyone coming to Bali. Many of these places and people are described in detail, often with photos, in the text of this blog. If I place an asterisk* after a place, you can find out more about it by clicking on the corresponding key word in the right column. (Though I may not have written about it yet.)

Blissings,

JOYSAN / EBUJOY

[Note: If you go to the Archives on the Home Page, and click on Jan 08, you can read the rest of my story about Bali.]

I’ve organized the following section according to regions and towns.

SOUTHERN BALI

Denpasar

This is where the airport is located. Lonely Planet recommends avoiding it, but my dentist is here, and I’ve enjoyed my time here. These are some of the places I’ve liked or have checked out.

ACCOMODATIONS
Nakula Familiar Inn*
Jln. Nakula No. 4 (near Kartini)
(0361) 226446
nakula_familiar_inn@yahoo.com
$8 with fan / $12 A/C – no hot water – breakfast served but not included
Sunu is the manager, and he speaks fairly good English. For me, this
place was a haven in the midst of a pretty crazy city. Nice courtyard.
Nice people. They will provide a free motorcycle service (modest tips
appreciated) to places that are nearby. The climate is hot and the water
is not very cold, and cold showers can be well appreciated. The rooms have small balconies. I would call ahead and reserve the last upstairs room, which has the most privacy and the least noise.

Adi Yasa
Jln. Nakula 23B
$4-6 for simple accommodations, fans, cold water, communal style living
no privacy but it’s friendly, like a hostel. It’s across the street from Nakula Familiar Inn and up the block. It’s been the a longer time, so cab drivers who don’t recognize Nakula Familiar Inn will know where Adi Yasa is.

DENTIST
Dr. Sucipto*
Jl. Diponegoro 150 / A-32
Komp. Ruko IDT (Genteng Biru)
From States: 011-62-361-222541
sucipto_angga@yahoo.com
www. drsucipto.com
Dr. Sucipto is not cheap, by Balinese standards, but he is highly professional (trained partly in the US), conscientious, thorough, and he speaks very good English, he’s relaxed and extremely friendly, and people come to him from all over the world. You want to call ahead by at least six weeks (eight is safer) to be sure to get an appointment. Tip: his office is not easy to find; you might want to scout it out before your first appointment. Take Diponegoro North to J. Dewi Sartika and turn West (left) at the Apotik Kimia Farma (pharmacy), go 1 block to Pulau Seram and turn South (left) and it’s the second building on the right as I recall.
There is a form to fill out on his website, but it didn’t work for me. It’s probably best to call direct. They do speak English.

OPTOMETRIST
Dr. Nym. Seri Sukmawati
J. Drupadi 1/3
(0361) 263833
seri124@yahoo.com
If you happen to need an optometrist while you’re in
Bali, this woman is very good and she only charged $15 for an appointment.

WIRELESS INTERNET
Denpassar is surprisingly bereft of good internet connections. I was fortunate that Dr. Sucipto let me set up my laptop at his hotspot. Otherwise it was a long haul to one of the two Bali Bakery places, and their wireless wasn’t always working, their food was not cheap, and you have to pay at least $2.50 to get hooked up. There are regular internet stations, but they’re few and far between and they are hot and painfully slow.

FOOD
Wr. Sari
Jl. Hayam Wuruk
Sorry I can’t tell you more than this. It’s a little local Warung (where there is no menu and food is displayed in pots and you can point to what you want), very popular with the local folks, great food; you can get an excellent meal for $1.00 (not including drinks)

Wr. Satrya
Jln. Nakula
Good seafood satay – you can get a good meal for less than $2.

Cheap Steak
Srikandi No. 52
Inna Bali Food Court
This is a real restaurant in front of a big business hotel where you can get all kinds of steaks, including a grilled mahimahi and nice veggies and fries, all for $2.

MISC
NIGHT MARKETS
There are many night markets and they are fun. You can get fish satays for 10 cents, and red rice for 40 cents and endless exotic fruits like mangosteen and snakefruit for good prices. It’s a feast for the senses. I liked the Pasar Badung Market, which is a reasonable walk from Nakula St.

HEALTH FOOD, ORGANIC FOOD
I was told to go to Dijon, Simpany Siur. But it’s out toward Kuta, and I never made it there.

Taxi
If you need a ride, look for the little blue cabs called Bali Taxis. They’re all over the place. The basic price is about 60 cents (5,000 rp.), and it goes up slowly from there. A/C, and they usually speak a little English.

Guide
If you want a personal guide and translator, go to Pasar Badung Market and ask for Wayan (a man) and Made (a woman) and show them these pictures. Wayan can take you around on his motorcycle, or accompany you if you get a taxi. Or write ahead of time to him and ask him to meet you at your hotel on a specific day and time. Don’t expect an answer to your letter, but he is reliable, once you find him. Probably the best plan is to look for them at the market. He probably won’t
charge you a specific sum, but he will expect you to pay for gas and other expenses. When you eat, it’s polite to offer to treat him also. When you are getting ready to leave, his wife will make a suggestion of
an appropriate gift. For a week of driving me around town, she suggested a bedspread that cost about $25. He will save you at least that much money by bargaining for you and finding the best prices.
Wayan & Made Rencani
Jalan Kebolwo
Bajanr paqutan
Padang Sam Bean Kaja
Gang No. 2 / 8B
Denpasar, Bali

SANUR

TOWN
This is a fairly pleasant tourist beach town. If you like to shop, this is probably a good place to do it.

BEACH
I’ve heard that the beach in Sanur is obnoxiously full of tourists on Sundays and during the high season. But when I was there it was almost deserted. It is a white sands beach and fairly pleasant to swim in.
I was told that I could rent snorkel equipment for about $2 and take a boat, for about $20, a few miles out to where the snorkeling is good. I didn’t want to pay that much.

LODGING
Puri Gopa Hotel
Jalan Desuma Sari No. 4 Semawang
(0361) 289-948
reservation@purigopabali.com
www.urigopabali.com
Is owned by Balinese. It has clean rooms with A/C and hot water, and some rooms have a view of the ocean. A single standard room with fan is $35 and a single deluxe with A/C is $45. It seems pricy to me.

CENTRAL BALI

UBUD

ACCOMODATIONS
Jati 3 Bungalows & Spa*
Monkey Forest Street (Jalan Wenara Wana)
Ebudewa, owner
62-361-973-249, 977-101
http://www.jati3bungalows.com
jati3_ubud@yahoo.com
$15 per night including breakfast, with the back rooms bordering on the jungle,
hot water, fans. Note: you can request a small refrigerator (no fee) and a
big bottle of drinking water (small fee) for your room.

Ubud Bungalow*
Monkey Forest St.
62-361-971298
Wayan, mgr. “boss”
w_widnyana@hotmail.om
www.ubudbungalow.com
$20 per night for pure luxury, including breakfast, hot water, A/C, and a great pool

Ari House
Quiet river setting, 5 minutes from Bali Spirit Kafe (head south and look
for sign on the right, then turn down the lane)
Surrounded by tropical forest
Breakfast included (other meals too)
Extremely affordable ($7 off-season; $11 on)
“Riverfront Questhouses (I only saw one)
Modern Bathroom With Has Showers, Hot & Cold Water”
Hanoman St. Gang Anila No. 10
081 338 666 384
Ari does not speak much English. An opportunity to live in
a Balinese compound. Nice room, but a bit musty. Great view.

FOOD

Bali Buddha Restaurant and Health Food Store*
Across the street from the post office
Great organic salads
Non-wheat, non-dairy choices

Bali Spirit Kafe*
448 J. Hanoman (Anuman)
This is the famous coffeehouse where the expatriats come and hang out. It is connected with Bali Spirit Yoga (a little north of the café, same road), which is connected with the Bali Barn (head south down Anuman and turn left at Ubud Aura and down a lane), where various yoga classes and related workshops are presented. Wireless internet access is available, but not cheap. There is a cheap (and slow) Internet place across the street. Definitely a great place to make connections of all kinds. They serve good food. Once a week they have a movie night at the Bali Barn (same owners) and they charge $5 for the movie and a great all-you-can-eat dinner.

Bali Pesto Café
West side of Monkey Forest Rd.
Sign in front says: “Barberkyu”
I liked their Burbur Injin black rice pudding with bananas and coconut milk
And their pumpkin soup

Café BiangLalah
East side of Monkey Forest, at the end of a lane (south of Jati3)
I had a tuna kabob that was fantastic for under $3

BALINESE TRADITIONALIST HEALERS

Wayan Nuriyashi*
Traditional Balinese Healing Center & Multivitamin Lunch
Across the street from Bali Buddha and next to the Post Office
Awesome herbal massage and herbal healing

Ketut Liyer*
Traditional Balinese Healer, Painter & Woodcarver
(0361) 974-092
Take Anoman south, before Pengosekan, pass Arma on left, pass Guci on
right and big petrol station on left – I think it’s the next little left
turn with a sign that says OKA Home Stay – to left of sign is white sign: Ketut Liyer. Turn left and follow road til it curves right. Just past the corner on the left is a sign: Ketut Liyer

I Made Sumantra*
Mantra Aura Clinic
Bali Yoga Master & Healer
Often works out of the spa at Jati3 Bungalow
Phone (62-361) 7941089 / 085935029306
madesumantra@hotmail.com
www.balineseyoga.com

INTERNET ACCESS
Ubud has great internet access—except once or twice a week, when everything goes down.

Baby Face Café*
On East side of Monkey Forest Rd.
Has free wireless and you can even go upstairs, where it’s quiet, if you want to Skype. Their mixed fruit, and lime drinks are very good.

Waroeng Café
On East side of Monkey Forest Rd., a few doors down from Baby Face Café
Charges $5 hr. for a good wireless hook-up.
They have a great spicy Chinese noodle soup for about $3.

MISC

MAP OF BALI
The Bali Pathfinder was invaluable.
I found a copy at Bali Bungalows for about $3.50
Contains maps of Bali, Ubud, Denpasar, Kuta, Lovina, Sanur, and more

TRAVEL INSURANCE
Expacare $578 YR – quarterly payment option Division of JLT in UK
Apipacific.com

SEAMSTRESS / TAILOR
You can buy beautiful hand-woven cloth in Bali (or bring your own) and bring something you love as a pattern, and these women can reproduce just about anything, at great prices.

Rai Pasti, Tailor
Monkey Forest Rd.
0361 973-259
raipasti@yahoo.com
Rai Pasti is right near Jati 3, along the same lane. She was just getting ready to open a shop as I was leaving,, so her prices will probably go up. She has lovely cloth and I was pleased with everything she made for me. She was always fair, her prices were very good, and she speaks English.

TRANSPORT
One of the most annoying things about Ubud is that tourists are constantly being hawked by men trying to sell “Transport, Madam,” and women passing out brochures about their Spa and Massage services.
They will ask for 20,000 rp. for a motorcycle ride, but 5-10,000 during off season should be plenty. (2,000 if you’re cute.) They will ask for 200,000 rp. for a taxi ride to the airport or to Candidasa or Amed, but 150,000 may be enough. Or you can get a shuttle.

AROMATHERAPY OILS
BAS Buana Amertha Sari Agrowisata
Wayan Kesuma Yasa, owner at 6281805417090
Has nice rose oil for 70,000 rp ($7.50)
Also nice lemon and orange oils, same price
(will visit their shop during the Bike Tour)

Bike-Baik Bali Countryside Tours*
I Wayan Sujana, Tour Guide & Owner
0361-978-052 / 081-33867-3852
wayansujanaa@yahoo.com
www.balibike.com

Arma Rai Museum of Art & Park & Restaurants
Admission: 25,000 rp ($3) used for cultural preservation
Beautiful grounds and museum
Also has upscale luxurious lodging

EAST SIDE

CANDIDASA

Ashram Gandhi*
Just before the lagoon on the right (going north)
Right on the ocean – very peaceful, idyllic
Ideal if you like yoga and prayers sung in Sanskrit
No alcohol, cigarettes, or “sexual cohabitation”
Cold water—but they bring huge thermos of hot water
No A/C – just fan and ocean breezes
Has 2 bungalows that sleep 2-4 people each
$20 for one person includes 3 delicious vegetarian meals
(with fish and eggs if desired)

Agung Bungalows
Several buildings before the lagoon on right going north
Pleasant cool grounds, nice rooms
$8 per room, includes breakfast
cold water, fan
(0363) 41535
Call ahead to reserve the prime room, right at the
ocean, same price

Dewi Bungalows
Several buildings after the lagoon on right going north
Grounds are okay; rooms are average. No views. Fan.
A room with double bed and hot water is $15 at high season
And $10 at low season
A room with double bed and cold water is $8
Includes breakfast
081 747 19487
www.eastbalionline.com

AMED
Just south of Amed I Jemeluk, reputed to have great snorkeling – equipment rents for
20,000 rp. My experience: I went to the place where the shipwreck is and the
water was full of jellyfish. But if other people are swimming, it’s probably fine.
Megan told me to call Alek at 628 523 716 3115 if you need something done in Amed. I forgot to do that when I was looking for transport to Tejakula.

3 Brothers
In Lonely Planet as $8-12. In fact, during off-season she asked for $15, but would
settle for $10.
Nice place, with the last room right on the beach. Cold water. Not much privacy,
especially in the last room, because the kids hang around the beach. She
says you can swim and snorkel right there.

Deddy’s*
In Lonely Planet as $4-5, but they asked $8. Cold water. Nice view. A fair walk to the beach. Clean rooms. But it’s above the highway and kind of noisy. Food is good. (Fried rice with vegetables; fruit juice.) Free b’fast.

Meditasi*
$15 per room in low season, $20 in high
this is the only place that was consistent in their price with Lonely Planet right on the ocean, lovely rooms, fantastic views, free b’fast
fans, cold water except the villa at $50 night with hot water and a big
outdoor room with two luxurious beds in separate rooms
It takes a long time to get there, at the end of the road, but it’s worth it.
The beach is right outside the door, and it is reputed to have excellent
snorkeling and no jellyfish.

NORTH SIDE

TEJAKULA

Gaia Oasis
1-1/2 hours up the coast from Amed. (Drivers will try to get 350,000 rp., but it shouldn’t cost more than 150-200,000 in off season.)
Can be reached directly from Ubud – 2 hours (about 200-250,000 rp.)
62 81 23853350 or 44696 or 62952.
info@gaia-oasis.com
www.gaia-oasis.com
The website has lots of great pictures.
This place is owned by a group of 40 Europeans. The prices are in the mid range. Prices are in Euros, so you need to check the exchange rate if you have U.S. dollars or rp. The place is gorgeous. They are booked over a year in advance for groups, so be sure to call ahead and make reservations. Individual reservations are more readily available.
This is the place you’ve always dreamed of when you’ve thought of an idyllic vacation in Bali. This is where I’d like to go with a lover. It’s romantic and delicious (and, unlike Ashram Gandhi, any kind of sexual cohabitation is fine—in fact, they are quite comfortable with gay guests).
For 1 room in a bungalow with open-air bathroom and kitchen: Single is 33 Euros; double $46; extra bed $15. Breakfast costs 4 Euros. Three meals a day, buffet style, for 14.50 Euros. The food is excellent. There is a 21% tax and service charge (as compared to 10% elsewhere).
The beach is right there at the edge of the property and it is reputed to have good snorkeling and no jellyfish. For a fee you can go out in an outrigger canoe to fish, and you may see dolphins. In fact, the dolphins can be seen passing by almost every day.
They have a second location, about 15 minutes away, up in the mountains. It is also lovely, in a Swiss chalet sort of way, and it would be cooler in hot weather.
Each location has a large group room. The one at the beach is a huge octagonal temple-like room. The one above is smaller and more intimate.
At the beach, will need to park outside and walk for 10 minutes through a lovely peaceful lane. There is a parking area just a short way inside the lane, but it’s awfully tight for a van! Once you arrive, they will send out a motorbike to pick up your suitcases and give a lift to anyone who needs it. (Or you can call in and ask for free portage.)
From the main road, look for two long banners on either side of a lane; one is bright orange and the other is white, and they say Gaia Oasis. There are other signs, but you haven’t arrived until you find those banners.

MISC INFO

WHEN TO GO?
July to September, early April, and between Christmas and early
January are the high seasons. Very busy and more expensive.
April to June is very pleasant weather.
October to March is rainy season, and it can be humid but it only rains
part of the day, and that cools things off, so it’s not bad, especially
in Ubud, which is cool, and especially in February and March when it usually rains less and when you can avoid the tourists and be extremely welcome because your business is badly needed.
The average temperature is about 85 degrees all year round.

TRAVEL GUIDE
Lonely Planet, Bali & Lombek
Ryan Ver Berkmoes & Ian Stewart

I’d been here for a couple days when I heard a lot of noise next door in the middle of the night. I figured that some locals had moved in and were having a party. The next morning Dewa (who turned out to be Ebudewa’s brother) brings me breakfast and he mentions casually that Lumena, the woman in the room next to mine, had gone “up to the mountain to meditate” and they left at 3 in the morning. What mountain? I wondered, and why was it so noisy to go meditating? I should meet this woman.

Next day a black-haired woman dressed in white glided by and stopped in to apologize for all the noise the night before. “I’m studying with a Balinese Traditional Healer, and we do a lot of chanting, so it can get noisy. I’m sorry if we woke you up!”

I invited her to come in and visit, and as our mutual stories unfolded, it turned out that she had a copy of the first herbal book that I wrote, back in the seventies, Healing Yourself. (This often happens!) Since she was so interested in chanting, I played a track from my CD, Altered States of Planet Earth, and she totally loved it. [You can listen to it on my home page at http://highvibrations.net ]

She has done a lot of work in promotions, so we talked about ways to promote the CD, and she asked what my target audience is? I told her that people who are interested in metaphysics, new age, wicca, and then I admitted that my initial inspiration for making the CD was to provide something really juicy for kids going to raves. I’ve never been to one, but I’ve heard that they are huge gatherings where everyone gets high on Ecstasy. I had some exposure to LSD in my younger years, and I know the difference between a “good trip” and a “bad trip,” and I do believe that mind altering substances can have a beneficial effect under the right circumstances. Though I no longer use these substances, I believe that marijuana is far less harmful that alcohol or tobacco and that it is criminal that people are being put in jail for using marijuana, and it is criminal that young people (many of whom seem to need to get high on something) are being prevented from using marijuana, and so they turn instead to “ice,” which is such a vicious drug. I do know that taking Ecstasy can be a beautiful experience, and that the music you listen to while in an altered state can have a profound influence on the kind of trip you have.

This CD, Altered States of Planet Earth, has the sounds of myself doing Shamanic Sounding (the shamans literally sing through me) in combination with Alejo (James Lowe) playing didgeridoo. People have told me that they love to use it for giving and receiving massages, for making love, for dancing and trance dancing, and contact improv. Lumena said that she has friends who are organizers for Burning Man, and she could make sure that they hear it.

She asked to look at my new book, Vibrational Healing through the Chakras, and she couldn’t put it down, so I offered to loan it to her for a day or two, and she was delighted.

Then she said she wanted me to meet her teacher, I Made Sumatra. He had been teaching her how to run energy, and he had a thing he did that allowed you to see your own chakras light up from the inside! Through working with him, she was beginning to see auras.

That all sounded quite exciting. I’d love to see my chakras light up, and I’d love to see auras. As I’ve said before, I can feel the spin of energy at the chakras, but I have not been able to see that energy.

A few hours later Lumena brought Made to my room. He is a good-looking young Balinese man with a huge smile and very loving energy. He was smoking a cigarette, which didn’t add to the ambience, but I was used to shamans who don’t fit the stereotype. We talked for awhile, and sometimes it was difficult to understand him, though his English was fairly good. He said that today he was going to be doing a ceremonial cleansing at his temple, and Lumena was coming. Would I like to join them?

“Of course!” I exclaimed, and he said that I would just need to wear a sarong and a sash, and could I be ready in an hour?

“No problem!”` I responded, with excitement.

“Good!” he said, “I’ll pick you up in an hour!”

This time I wasn’t going to mess with the purple pareo, which had bled all over my nice salmon-colored blouse. I had a simple blue-and-white pareo that I would wear, with a blue under-blouse and a see-through top, very much like the Indonesian style. I felt rather proud of myself as I prepared for my first official Balinese ritual.

Made arrived promptly in an hour, and said that he could now drive me over to his place. “First you, then I come back, get Lumena. Very close,” he reassured me, as he pointed to his motorbike. “Not far. You okay?” he asked as he observed my reaction.

Yes, I did ride on a motorbike once before. And even once on a motorcycle. But that was about forty years ago! This was intimidating. And furthermore, I was wearing a long skirt.

Now let me tell you something about myself. On the one hand, I am a raging nonconformist, and some part of me takes a certain pleasure in shocking people. On the other hand, I am extremely careful not to trespass or offend people of other cultures, if at all possible. But when it gets too tedious, I fall back upon the attitude that I am, after all, an American, and everyone expects Americans to do crazy things anyway.

For example, in Hawaii, especially on the Big Island, the locals have a certain little wave they call a shaka. It’s when you hold up your thumb and little finger and shake your hand in greeting. It sounds simple, and I know plenty of people who started using the shaka within a few days of arriving on the island, and it looked fine. The truth is, it’s kind of a guy thing. Not too many girls give the shaka.

So I wanted to be sure that I did it right. The truth is that I studied it for nine years, and practiced it on the sly, until I finally felt I could give a good-looking shaka. I’m still very shy about it. But when I moved to Maui, I noticed that people gave really limp-looking shakas. I got downright judgmental about those wimpy Maui shakas.

So ever since I arrived in Bali, I’ve been observing motor scooter behavior. I noticed right away that girls ride sidesaddle when they wear skirts. No exceptions. So I wasn’t going to start out my first Balinese ritual by doing something that would be grossly offensive. Even though I was feeling intimidated, I was definitely going to ride sidesaddle.

The other thing I noticed was that hardly anybody held on to the person in front of them. There seemed to be a taboo about touching—except for very intimate couples, in which case the girl would lean into the boy from behind, and wrap her arms around his middle.

Well, I’d be damned if I was gonna NOT hold onto this guy! Even if he was a Shaman! So I climbed onto his motorbike, and held onto his hips, and soon we were rumbling down the crazy crowded roads of Ubud. So there I am, hanging on for dear life, wishing I had a helmet, and wishing I had gotten that Lloyd’s of London Travel Insurance, telling myself “Cancel!” again and again, and wasn’t this an exciting adventure?

The fumes of the cars in front of us, and the other motorbikes, were pretty overwhelming as we drove out of town and into the surrounding countryside. It was very beautiful, but the farmers were burning the rice stalks in their fields, and the smoke sometimes surrounded us. And his place was NOT close! It must have taken us at least 15 minutes before we finally slowed down.

Made pointed proudly at a big poster on the wall of a building as we were turned down a kind of alleyway. Here’s the poster:

And here’s the alleyway, with the kids:

Within a block we came to the entrance to his temple:

As we walked through the courtyard, he called out to the women sitting under the roof.

Then we walked up the stairs.

At the top, we could look out over the countryside. It was really quite beautiful. He indicated a kind of bench where I could sit, and said he’d be back soon with Lumena. Then he left.

An elderly Balinese woman brought me some Balinese tea (which is not too strong; I don’t think it’s black) and very delicate delicious pastries cut or woven into lacy patterns, probably made from rice flour sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar. Then I lay down and took a nap, which is something that most Balinese do in the middle of the day.

Finally Made and Lumena arrived, and Made announced that his wife already did the ritual cleaning in the morning! He unlocked the door and invited us inside the temple, which was a simple room, where he turned on some music and we sat on mats on the floor and spoke about our mutual involvement with the chakras.

I realized that, for the first time in my life, I was speaking to a person who grew up knowing about and working with the chakras. It wasn’t a foreign language or a foreign concept for him. I Made Sumantra is a fifth generation Balinese healer. The Balinese imported the whole Hindu philosophy, along with the Hindu religion. And the chakras are a part of that philosophy, along with all the Hindu gods and goddesses. Of course, they have their own version of all this. There is, for example, a Balinese form of yoga that gives specific exercises and postures and mudras (hand positions) and mantras (simple chants, usually in Sanskrit) for consciously running the kundalini energy to enhance meditation, for health, and for various kinds of healing (and hexing, which is a serious problem in Bali).

Whereas I, who had been teaching about chakras most of my adult life, learned about them from a disembodied spirit guide! So it was gratifying and validating that I was fully able to hold my own in that conversation, and the only new insight that I came away with was that the chakras also show up in the hands. I, in turn, shared my own insight (by way of my guide, Dr. Laing) that the chakras show up in the face (as explained in my books, Vibrational Healing through the Chakras and Color and Crystals and I have never come across this concept anywhere else).

Here’s how they work on the hands. The first chakra point is at the center of the inner wrist; second is at the tip of the thumb; third at the middle fingertip; fourth at the little fingertip; fifth at the index fingerip; sixth at the ring fingertip; crown at the center of the palm.

We talked about sacred energy vortices, and how Mt. Agung, the highest mountain in Bali and an active volcano, is considered one of the great vortices, as is Haleakala in Hawaii.

I agreed to return another day, for a private session. I wanted to see if Made could make my chakras light up!

I was supposed to arrive at 1, but I was held up and didn’t get there until 1:30. The place was empty, but I noticed two pairs of Western-style sandals and some other sandals at the foot of the stairs. I wondered if she took someone in my place, when I didn’t show up? I called out, and she came down the stairs. She seemed to be moving slowly. “I’m sorry I was late!” I tell her. “Were you sleeping?”

“No,” she says. She is wearing a bright pink sarong with a bright green blouse and a red sash. Indonesian style is always the same: sarong, long-sleeved blouse, sash—but with infinite choices in patterns and colors.

She settles down in the chair and gives me her big smile. A German couple arrive and order lunch. Another couple wander in and then wander out. The German couple are in a hurry and I say that I am not (feeling guilty about arriving so late). They bargain about the cost of lunch, but it seems clear that if they pay less, they will get less.

Wayan and one of her two adopted daughters prepare the lunch, which takes at least a half hour. Meanwhile they serve us all a bright orange drink that is prepared by putting a banana leaf on a wooden paddle that is about 8 inches wide and about 12 inches long, with the veins of the leaf going up-and-down. Her daughter takes a piece of bright golden yellow turmeric and grates it up against the banana leaf, collecting a nice pile of bright yellow gratings which are collected and placed into a cup, with the juice of half a lime, then water is poured on top, then it’s put through a sieve, and a nice liquid honey is added.

A small glass of golden liquid is served to each of us, and it is delicious and highly fortifying.

Finally their dinner is served and as we’re waiting for them to finish eating, I wander around, taking photos. Here is the entrance to Wayan’s storefront, which is full of big pots of herbs, with signs on each one indicating what they are used for.

Here’s a familiar herb that grows like a weed in Hawaii. We call it Italian oregano, and I’ve used in omelettes but I didn’t realize it was in the coleus family and that it’s good for coughs, fever and asthma (I love their spelling). There are several herbs that are also found in Hawaii, including noni (a smaller version). If I were still a practicing herbalist I would be picking Wayan’s brain like crazy.

Wayan’s parents were both traditional healers and herbalists; her grandparents were both healers; her great-grandparents were both healers, and her daughter, Tutti, is showing signs of being a healer. Wayan said she herself started at a very early age. I feel envious when I hear stories like that; I always wished that someone would have recognized my gifts when I was young and saved me from all that time of trying to fit into molds that weren’t right for me. It’s so good to be here in a society that still recognizes and honors traditional healers—though most of them aren’t doing too well financially, because the healers are expected to share their gifts with whoever needs them, regardless of their ability to pay.

While the German couple are finishing their dinner Wayan asks me to write my name and address on a piece of paper. Then she lights a stick of incense and moves it back and forth over the paper and moves it from my head to my feet. She explains to me (and to the German couple; I know she is hoping they will go for a massage also) that she will now write down my diagnosis. She makes a bit of a show of it, and basically says the same things as before, but now she adds that my circulation is weak and I have low blood pressure. She presses on my legs and it’s obvious that they have some edema (water retention),

I just had my blood pressure taken recently, and the nurse was amazed that it was so good. But I had in the past been told that I had low blood pressure. Maybe that accounted for the tenderness in my legs.

More than an hour had passed by now, and it was finally time to go upstairs. I followed Wayan into the inner sanctuary. I had completely forgotten about the mysterious sandals at the foot of the stairs, so I was quite shocked to see two nearly-nude bodies lying face-down on two massage tables, looking like wrung-out rags as the three Balinese daughters and another slightly older girl and a Balinese man hovered over their bodies, continuously rubbing them down with handfuls of herbs that they were wringing out from buckets of teawater.

I had never seen anything like this before. Who were the people on the tables? Were they men or women? Local or Western? How long had they been here? Why was it so quiet that I had no idea they were even here? It was like some kind of weird Oriental sweatshop. And now what were they going to do with me? These two people were on massage tables, and there was a third, lower, plastic kind of table. I couldn’t imagine that they were going to lean over that thing and work on me.

Wayan indicated that I should sit down in a chair and she told the man to work on my feet. He brought a big vat of tea with big leaves in it, and wrung out the leaves and started to rub down my legs and my feet with them. It felt good. Meanwhile one of the girls came up with some kind of plastic gizmo and moved it along my face, “for the wrinkles,” she said. That felt nice, too.

I watched as the other two people were being continuously kneaded, like bread. They were like limp noodles. How long had this been going on? How sick were they? One person was definitely a man and he seemed really skinny. Maybe he had some dread disease; maybe he was a victim of AIDS.

I was fascinated to watch the girls working. The adopted girls just went about their business, doing whatever they were told to do, and they always seemed competent. But Truddie! She was right in there, working her butt off and you could just feel the level of caring that was coming from this ten-year-old healer. She was so present! And she seemed to truly enjoy every minute of her work.

Wayan brought me a sarong and told me to go behind the curtain and take off “everything except your underpants.” When I came out she told me to lie down on that low table, and the girls started working on me with another vat of herbs. Wayan kept walking around from person to person and indicating which herbs to use and where to work with them. Occasionally she did a little bit of massaging, but mostly she was like the Master of Ceremonies.

I wondered if it was unusual for her to work on three people at once. I knew this would be a lot of money for her—if the others were paying. I asked for the 150,000 rupiah special (about $16 US), for a one-hour massage, including some herbs and the special Vitamin Lunch. The average ordinary 1 hour massage in Bali cost between 50 and 75 rupiah. I knew that Wayan’s longer version was more like 400,000 ($44) for about 3 hours, including a nice meal and a month’s supply of herbs. Not a bad deal, but pretty pricey for Bali.

I had learned by now that Dewa, my landlady’s brother, made 500,000 rupiah in one month. The average Balinese farmer earns about $1.50 per day. So this was quite a lot of money by Balinese standards.

I put these thoughts out of my head as I shut my eyes and just luxuriated in being thoroughly touched all over. It was an amazing massage.

After quite a long time, Wayan turned me over and said, “It’s been an hour and a half, and you need more. At least two hours. We should do at least 200,000, okay?” I wasn’t in much of a position to say no. “Okay,” I muttered.

She ended up giving me a three-hour massage; she said she couldn’t do less than that because I obviously needed it. (My legs, after all that sitting at the monastery, were deeply grateful.) I was feeling short on money, so I didn’t offer to pay any more.

Finally she told me to get up and grab the sarong. They took me downstairs to the bathroom where one of the girls told me to take off my underpants and she splashed me with more tea from another huge vat. Then I showered and dressed and came out to the table. By then the other two (now discovered to be a man and a woman) were being brought down as well.

We all ended up sitting at the table together. Wayan brought out a big mirror and passed it around proudly. “Look!” she said, “No wrinkles! Look much younger!” It was true; I looked terrific. I poked at my legs and the edema was totally gone and they seemed less sensitive. I felt great.

The man was thin, but there was really nothing wrong with him. They were from France, and they had been on a bike trip the previous day, and someone recommended Wayan, so they arrived at 11 am, and they had been there ever since! Wayan and the girls prepared their famous vitamin lunch, with raw and cooked greens and seaweed and fresh tomatoes and grated, toasted coconut and a wonderful sauce, and red rice. Each of us were served different proportions of these foods, according to our individual needs for the corresponding vitamins, according to our diagnosis. Each portion was served on a wooden dish that was covered with a piece of coconut leaf, so it all looked quite beautiful.

As we were eating, we could hear thunder as the sky clouded over. Wayan gathered up packets of herbal remedies for each of us. She put mine on a plate with a stick of incense and brought it to the altar and prayed over it. Then she told me to write down the instructions that she gave me about how to use each one. Then she put it all in a bag for me. As she began to prepare the herbs for the couple, I said goodbye to them all and departed into the rain, which was actually quite warm and fairly pleasant. I felt terrific; I had just had an amazing, transformative, healing adventure in Bali!

The Balinese Traditional Healer, Wayan Nuriyashih (a woman) is a long walk North, by the post office, and the Balinese Traditional Healer, Katuk Liyer is a long bike ride South. So it takes me a few days to get motivated, to get caught up with my email and my writing and to get some sleep. Finally I go in search of Wayan.

I had a feeling that it would be smart to arrive late in the day, when she might be there, but not too busy. So I arrived at 5, and the young woman serving food said to come back in an hour.

So I went to Bali Buddha, the health food store and restaurant across the street, and ordered a Greek salad, and they brought me a very welcome big bowl of fresh organic garden greens. What a relief to get some real fresh food! [Note: that big Balinesian painting in the center of the wall is not a painting; it’s just the view right outside of the big open-air window.]

I stopped in at the little health food store downstairs, and there was the middle-aged woman with the long red hair, so I introduced myself and said, “I have a feeling that we should get to know each other.”

She handed me her card and it turned out that she lives in Ubud and she does bodywork. I handed her my card and she saw that I do Vibrational Healing, and she said, “Oh! You’re right! I’m sure we have a lot in common!” So we make an appointment to meet at Bali Spirit Kafe, and she tells me how to get there.

When I went back to Wayan’s at 6, there she was, with her daughter Tutti, and she was very welcoming and jolly. I mentioned that I read about her in Elizabeth’s book and she laughed and said, “She tells all, doesn’t she?” with a slightly embarrassed laugh. (You’ve got to read the book to appreciate this.)

“Yes,” I agreed, “she doesn’t doesn’t keep anything private!” and we both laughed.

There were a couple of tables and some shelves with books, and there on the top of the shelves was a photo of a white woman. “Is that Elizabeth?” I asked, feeling quite sure that the woman who looks like an impish nature spirit must be Elizabeth Gilbert. Surely she deserved a place of honor, because she single-handedly raised enough money for Wayan to buy a house! But that’s a long story that she tells quite well herself.

We hung out and talked for an hour or two. Wayan’s daughter, Tutti, and two other girls (whom I assumed were the two homeless waifs that Wayan adopted several years ago) went upstairs. Did I hear a television? “Yes,” Wayan smiled. Not many people in Bali can afford to have a television.

While we were talking, Wayan looked at my hand and said casually, “You have arthritis, you need more water, and you like sweets.” All of which are true. My mother had arthritis, and one of the reasons I avoid wheat and dairy is because they make my joints hurt. I was pretty impressed that she picked up on that so quickly, so I said I would come back the next day for a massage and some herbs and her special Vitamin Lunch.