a girl in the world

finding beauty, pleasure and grace on the road less traveled

Here, I’m always thought of as a local. Actually, I think that judging by the way people look at me, they are guessing I’m local, but aren’t really sure. They look at me like I’m an alien that could be human but just in case, let’s be a little cautious. It is a fascinating way to travel. Not only do I learn about the place but I do get a very unique insider’s view of the social culture not accessible to other western tourists. I blend in Thailand, in Indonesia and I would guess in most other parts of this region just fine and I’ve found that different countries treat me in different ways when they think I’m one of them – sometimes for the better, but other times for the worst.

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In Thailand, for example, when I was walking around with the boy in Koh Samui, I couldn’t help but feel assumed as a working lady. The area with all the clubs and restaurants was teeming with he-she’s and she-he’s and she’s – all dressed in provocative clothing and high heels. And though I made it a point to dress in long linen trousers and loose blouses, I still saw eyes on me – both from the western men and Thai he-she-she-he’s. Add to that my tall white boyfriend and I could see why these women were all looking at me like I was their competition! HA! Though I didn’t take it too personally, I really did get a first-hand account of what prejudice feels like. People assumed something about me without knowing me at all! And then, even while we were going through the cities and sites, cab drivers and gate keepers would speak to me in Thai and when I didn’t respond, would sound angry or offended. I wasn’t purposely ignoring them! I simply had no idea what they were saying to me! For the whole week I often wished I had a tattoo on my forehead reading “I AM NOT THAI!”.

In Indonesia, it has been a bit different. I purposely avoided the binge drinking beaches of the Southern coast (like Kuta) and so haven’t been exposed to the working-girl environment there. But, I was sitting in a nice restaurant one night having my dinner and I overheard the owner of the restaurant graciously greeting and serving the Australian couple behind me. “How are you enjoying your food? Where are you from? Do you like Bali? Oh, can we get you anything else?”, he crooned. When he was done, he walked right past me. And I didn’t think anything of it until he heard me speak English to the waiter and the man nearly fell over himself trying to get back to my table. Suddenly he was at my side asking the same questions. Then he added, “I’m sorry, I thought you were Indonesian!”. Though I didn’t take it personally, it did feel a bit sad that he would be so overly courteous with foreign visitors to his restaurant and not domestic ones. Why wouldn’t an Indonesian guest get the same service as a westerner? Everyone is paying just the same and should be seen as important, regardless of race or colour.

The ‘blending in’ has served me well here though. Likely because I look less apt to accepting bullshit, everyone offers me such low prices for everything: tours, sarongs, hotels, tickets etc! When I compare notes with fellow travelers, they choke when I tell them how much I paid for the tour we’re on. It must be because they’re giving me local prices? Either that or I’m quite good at bargaining (my tip: bargain really hard but with a huge smile!).

Sometimes I feel like I’m one big walking mirror here in Asia, bringing out the true colours and reflections of those with whom I interact with. Just like a place can bring out aspects of the traveler that he or she may not necessarily know about his/her self, perhaps a fellow Asian-look-a-like can bring out the same angels and demons in the local people.

I stumbled upon this on Chris Sacca’s blog. Though it does ring quite American centric at first glance, there are powerful little messages throughout. I’ve italicized my favourite parts.

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front
by Wendell Berry

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.

Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion – put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.

So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade.
Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn’t go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

I’m sitting in Art Kafe in Ubud for the 3rd night in a row. There are two men playing their guitars, singing live music. I’m at my usual couch, candles strewn all around as it pours rain on the street just a few feet away from me. The usual DOM (Dirty Old Man) has just walked by, said hi and tried to ask me out for a drink. And I just want to cry (in a good way and not because of the DOM). My good friend AV just sent me the most wonderful email and I had to hold back tears. All this after a day of intense introspection. Maybe the ridiculously brutal deep tissue massage that I had this afternoon has a lot to do with my emotional sensitivity today but when someone is working your body that hard, a thousand thoughts a minute can run through your mind on that massage table. All the lactic acids draining from every limb have nowhere to go but your brain! I swear it’s chemical!

I feel like I’m purging a lot of emotional baggage while out here on my own. And I certainly hadn’t planned to come to Bali to save myself from anything or to find something that was lost. I had actually wanted to visit this spa that I have been lusting over for a few years, Como Shambala, after I found their amazing shampoos and soaps at the Metropolitan in London. This place (Como Shambala) is an incredible yoga/rejuvenation retreat just outside of Ubud but after being here a few days, I really could not bring myself to pay $400 USD a night when compared to the $40 USD that I am paying at my gorgeous little place overlooking the pool and rice paddies. I mean, they would have to hand bathe me every morning, spoon feed me my breakfast and treat me like the Queen of England for me to pay that much money for a room relative to what I’m paying now! Luxury in Ubud doesn’t have to be expensive!

Anyway, this time away has been a real purge of all the emotional crap that I’ve been avoiding/carrying/denying for years. I mean, who knew?! Who knew I had things to sort?! Well let me tell you, I definitely have things to sort. We all have things to sort but many of us have become experts at stuffing our issues into small little corners in our closets and linen drawers. But one day, when you decide to trek out to Bali on some fanciful holiday, you’ll discover that your issues all snuck into your pack and they’ll greet you when you come out of the shower saying “HI MAMA!!! WE’RE HERE! SURPRISE!”. So anyway, I’ve been dealing with all of it these last few days and it has been hard hard hard. There are moments when I sit in bed and cry and other moments when I can’t help but laugh. Friends ask me if I ever get lonely or moody or sad and the answer is of course! Of course, of course, of course! My life is certainly far from perfect and I have big fears and big dreams just like everyone else. This time with myself has been liberating but hard hard hard. Hard but good. It’s like there’s this person, let’s call her Denisia, who is here with me and I get to know her a little more every single day. [Yes, I realize I sound cuckoo but that’s OK. This afternoon, at another cafe, I actually declared myself cuckoo during a writing exercise. Self awareness, my friend, is worth more than gold!]. So yes, I am traveling along with this girl named Denisia and she really is the most delightful little thing!

I am getting to know her likes and dislikes, her dreams and fears, her real wants vs. her maybe wants. And you know what? We’re having a really great time at this. She surprises me from time to time but it’s all part of the process of getting to know someone new. Often she can’t make up her mind about anything! Massage in the morning and walk after lunch? Or walk now and massage after lunch? Or maybe Monkey Forest Park instead?! Blue sarong, or red sarong? Oh wait, what about the purple yoga pants up in the corner?! And today after 40 minutes at the bookstore, she walked out with NOTHING! NOTHING! All that time deciding and then deciding NOT! I tell you, I could have completely pulled my hair out! And let’s not even get to talking about her future. Sometimes she’s sure of one thing and then changes her mind. But she’s growing on me and I enjoy her company – she’s weird in that endearing not-always-so-scary-or-annoying sort of way. And even though she can break a daily habit out of nowhere (she will order the same thing over and over again until one day, all of a sudden and out of the blue she will order something completely different and then regret it!), she really can be relied on to be sappy and fun and maddeningly cuckoo. But like I said, it’s all part of the fun! And so today, even if she has been bat crazy and teary eyed and craving all sorts of weird things like prawn red curry with chocolate and pineapples (she could very well be PMSing – actually, I could bet my money on it), I am going to accept her anyway. Because you know why?! Because her name is Denisia and it sounds pretty darn close to my name Denise!

Hi, I'm Denise. I'm a writer, artist and photographer. This is where I share what I'm seeing, learning and making.


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