Kelsey watches Eat.Pray.Love. and has a lot to say.

11/07/2011 at 12:21 pm · Filed under Uncategorized and tagged: bali, eat pray love, elizabeth gilbert, movies, peace, reflections, struggle

So I did that thing today, where I went into town and spent money I don’t really have on things I don’t really need like bagels and Starbucks. Guilty.

I am also guilty of the bargain hunt- adding 12 more movies to the collection. It was only going to be 6 (buy five get one free, duh!) but then I saw another movie store and decided to check out their collection. (Kelsey, there are tons of movie stores in Ubud, this is a bad justification)

In every book store and every movie store, there is one thing I can guarantee you will find here in Bali. Behind the over-priced rack of postcards, there is always a display of one thing: Eat.Pray.Love.

I find the whole thing ironic, but it makes complete sense really. Elizabeth Gilbert is the reason why many people come to Bali. They search for some sort of enlightenment from the spiritual life here and for a handsome Brazilian or other form of foreign hottie to have their Balinese romance with. (I have yet to meet any Brazilians and there have been no Balinese romances, in case you have been keeping up.)

I read the book years ago, well before I ever thought I’d go to Italy,India and Indonesia. I dreaded the thought of a movie ruining my grandiose images of the story and therefore told myself I would never watch it.

Since my travels and the movie came out, I’d been told by numerous people to see it. My Priest even recommended I watch it, “Just for the scenes, Kelsey. The places you’ve loved and will come to love.”

I’ve never forgotten that he said that to me. What did he mean, the places I have loved? He said this to me before I left for Bali when we were in Rome, for a second time, this past Spring. I remember laughing cautiously.

My first trip to Rome with my Church group two years ago was my first trip out of the country. It was my first experience on a plane for more than 3 hours. It was my first time in a place where I didn’t use the dollar and English became for extended periods of time, worthless. Rome was my first real exploration of wine, espresso and my spirituality: three things that have since become important, if not integral parts of my life. Rome was a beautiful gift that started everything.

And then there was India. Oh India, how you shook me. Only now, a year later, do I feel as though I can adequately begin to piece together how my life changed the moment I arrived in that sweaty airport. India taught me more than I can even begin to acknowledge. I felt so much pain and frustration in India, but with that, equal parts solitude and love. India made me want to see the world. India made me understand what lonliness and love are. India made me human.

Then I look at Bali.

I have cursed Bali nearly every day I have been here. I have cribbed about my internship. I have felt more alone than I ever have before, even more alone than I was in India. I have felt alienated by language. I have felt disgusted by the food. I have felt frustrated by the commercialism. I have cried about motorbikes. I have scoffed at paradise. I have forgotten why I came here.

Then I ask myself, why is it that I came here?

I should really have an answer to this. Brandeis is calling me tonight to check in to see where their $3500 investment has been up to and I’m sure they are going to ask this and many more questions I feel completely incapable of answering.

Right, my internship. I came here to study architecture. I came here to study design. I came here to study art.

But why Bali? I could have done this stuff anywhere. I could have easily gone back to India and worked there and have known the place and the people and where to get the best masala dosa. I could have avoided all this biking and crying crap and been comfortable.

I remember when the opportunity arose to come to Bali, I thought, more or less, what everyone thinks when a chance to be in a tropical paradise arises- I’d be stupid not to go. I mean, lets be real, I am a 21-year-old artist with the funding to back up a trip to anywhere. Why not go as far away as possible? I like the beach. Sign me up for an island get away!

And now, as I sit here, beyond my half way point, I wonder what I got myself into here. How is it that I still struggle with being alone so much? How is that I still can’t seem to find peace with my supervisor? Why haven’t I traded in my motorbike for a bicycle? Why am I spending so much time doing nothing in my room.

Yet, still, with all the obstacles between me and my enjoyment of Bali, I am, as most people are, completely enchanted with it.

This morning I woke up late so I missed the opportunity for a quiet kitchen to make my breakfast. I made a couple eggs in the midst of the chaos that is cooking breakfast for 6 different rooms here at the hotel, and was stopped by one of the women before I left the door. “Eggs is not enough. Here.” She threw three heaping spoonfuls of fried delicious, fresh rice on my plate. “I made extra for you.”

Last night I sat in the kitchen and watched two of the staff play cards. One man here loves to talk to me in his broken English. I often spend most of the time trying to clarify what he’s telling me. Like the other day when he told me that he wakes up for ceremony for the sun every day. What he was telling me about are his morning prayers for his dead son. The story last night was about how you’re by law, not allowed to play cards unless you’re in the temple together, because “playing cards makes Balinese people very happy Kelsey.” He was talking about gambling and he winked at me when he said, “that’s why we play cards even when we’re not in the temple.”

This is the first place I’ve truly wanted to learn the language.  Everyone tells me new words each day and laughs when I call “MayMay” “MeMe” because that’s the wrong way to say “Mother, Kelsey.” Yes, someone has decided she’s my Mother here. I struggle with trying to remember all the different greetings for morning, afternoon, evening and night, but I am always reminded with a smile when I ask.

Language is something that has always scared me. I’m bad at it. I barely even tried in India because I felt like I was always falling behind. Here, nobody tells me I am not doing well enough. Here, I am not in competition with anyone else to become the best Bahasa speaker. The only one here every day for sure, is me.

I don’t really have a reason why I came to Bali. If I get asked tonight, it’s obviously for my internship. To become more capable for a future career. To build my resume.

To be honest, I’ve done none of that.

I’m only building a self. A renewed self. One with a few more scars and a nearly empty bank account (cheap movies…) but one that is nonetheless, growing with each challenge.

A good friend of mine who helped me get to Bali has told me he is sorry that he sent me here, for all the trouble I have had. All the issues with my internship, my accident, my being so far away from my job and people here in Ubud.

It’s cliché. This whole story is, I know, but it’s my cliché to be true: each one of these challenges has made those late night conversations so much more powerful. It makes me that much more thankful for the mornings where someone stops my bacon from catching fire while I was beating my scrambled eggs. All the stress makes when I pick up my paintbrush (in my ‘studio’ which is also my bathroom) that much more refreshing.

I did not come to Bali for spiritual enlightenment or romance. I have had none of that here. I did not come to Bali broken, but somehow, I sometimes feel more fulfilled here than anywhere I’ve ever been.

And I will continue to call Maymay, Meme. I will still to struggle with my long bike rides to work. Tomorrow I have to confront my supervisor and I’m not looking forward to it. I will be lonely. But in between all those frustrating moments, I truly feel something special here. I’ve never felt it before.

I think it’s called peace.

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