This morning, a pair of socks, of all things reminded me of Bali. There they were, nestled amongst the usual jumble, lying in beautifully ironed condition, just as they came back from our caring laundress in the hotel : yes, she does the same with under-pants, now that you ask, but she stipulates that they be unoccupied at the time.
Memories of caring attitudes came flooding in, some already reported.
Sunshine was having an extra rest because of a cricked neck. The waitress, when she delivered the therapeutic chips and eggs, straight away grabbed a bottle of tea-tree oil and gave Sunshine a brief but very effective massage, no charge, 'please rest' she said.
One morning in Legian, having finished my business with my friend Tjay, I stopped to say hello to his wife Honny, who was engaged in business with a gentleman to whom she was paying out some tens of millions of Rupiah for goods delivered. In between bundling bank notes she asked me where I was heading and, upon being told, immediately rang to arrange for my lift by a third party. The gentleman left, Honny and I conversed for about ten minutes until staff advised that my lift had arrived.
Out front I was met by the usual cacophanous din of mid-morning, teeming, honking, snarling, smoking Legian St which I had to cross towards where my lift was parked. As I stepped hesitantly onto the roadway, hand held outwards, drooping, wriggling from the wrist towards the traffic in approved local style, I felt a strong grip on my elbow as the gentleman, who had previously left the shop guided me firmly across through the mayhem. Never met this kind gentleman before and probably won't again. Just local courtesy and concern for others.
On our last journey home, Sunshine had scored a Business Class F/F and thus we were both allowed to use the VIP lounge at Ngurah Rai airport, this despite my travelling cattle class only along with sundry, assorted peasants( ! ) This lounge is down a long, steep flight of stairs : the powers that be having seen fit to provide an escalator for the upward journey only.
When I was half-way down, there was a commotion at the bottom as a beautifully dressed young lady started to dash swiftly up the stairs : not using the escalator, I thought maybe she was indulging in 'nouveau aerobique ala Bali' No, that dear Lady, unlike Westerners in similar jobs, had seen that this senior person was struggling a bit with luggage and broke Olympic time in rushing upwards in order to take my bags from me, ushering me to floor level with exquisite, mannerly gestures. It could probably make one feel old but it just made me feel cared for.
Buying shoes in Matahari Store Denpasar, I asked for the loan of a shoe-horn which is locally known, they told me, as a 'shoe-spoon' This handsome implement impressed me to the extent that I asked if it were for sale. 'Sorry Sir' was the answer, 'we don't sell them here'. However, when the bill had been paid, the Dept' Senior came and presented me with it saying 'for you Sir, complimentary'. The lady explained that every few cartons from the manufacturer contained a free one and that this was my lucky day, with a beaming Bali smile.
Looking back on our many trips, it seems so much more beneficial to remember the good things that have happened. The unexpected, unpaid-for courtesies that come to you out of the blue, foremost of these being the small, light tap on the shoulder as you are leaving someone, or even when you are introduced, the tapping of the other persons hand on their heart as they acknowledge you as a friend. Ah! Gentle Bali. We miss you and your subtly enslaving ways.
Please enjoy my Bali; let me enjoy yours, on here.
-:))