earthly magic

i have just come from the sembalun valley on lombok, where i spent my first 9 days. i am finding it hard to find the words to do it justice... it was so incredibly beautiful there, on every level, i just don't know where to begin. perhaps, i shall begin at the beginning...

before i left i had emailed several organizations i found online about possibly volunteering with them. all but one got back to me, and only one seemed even remotely reasonable as far as cost, charging what seemed just enough to cover the expense of my room and board and transportation. (why on earth some organizations think it appropriate to charge thousands for you to give one week of your time for free to work with them is beyond me!) the organization is 4th world love, and they work with the community development center (CDC) in sembalun lawang. doing what exactly was not made clear in the information they sent me, but that they would arrange for a homestay and allow me to volunteer with them for a week for so small a price sounded perfect enough to me. on my way to the airport in LA i finally got email confirmation from them that they could have me for my first week. still with no idea what i'd be lending my time and expertise to while there, i at least had some idea of where i'd be going when i arrived.

it took me 24 hours all told, from LA to Bali. when i landed and got through customs i went straight to padangbai, a port town, to spend the night before catching a ferry to lombok, where a mr. setiyadi from the CDC would be picking me up by motorbike. padangbai seemed nice enough, and for about $5 i got a mattress and mosquito net on the floor of an open-air but covered balcony overlooking the far end of the beach, above a quiet but popular restaurant. i was too jet lagged to check out the town and passed out at 8pm, with people still eating dinner around me on the balcony, and slept for 12 hours. air travel being the time warp that it is, i really needed the rest. (on a side note: where does all that time go when you're in the air? it feels like mere hours, but when you arrive you're either in the future or the past by a significant and mysterious margin, depending on where you were headed and from whence you came, but the time in between is just gone. gone! even on a 15 hour flight, you may find yourself 24 hours ahead, those other 9 hours absolutely unaccounted for. talk about a mindf*ck.)

the ferry the next morning from bali to lombok took roughly 5 hours. i was apprehensive about being able to locate the stranger coming to pick me up from the ferry, but sure enough, when i walked off the pier there was a happy face there holding a sign with my name on it, the wonderful mr. setiyadi, who would be my dearest friend for the coming days. we shook hands and then, knowing there was at least a 3 hour drive ahead of us, we quickly got on our way. we arranged ourselves precariously on his motorbike--two small people, total strangers, balanced between two backpacks.

the 3 hour drive from the ferry in lembar to the sembalun valley was breathtaking. green and lush, glittering rice paddies stretching away from the road on either side like ribs from a spine, hills rising up in the distance, growing ever larger as we drove further inland. as we climbed upward from the level of the sea i could feel the air grow cooler, see the trees grow thicker, sense the eyes of monkeys grilling me as we drove past. "who is this intruder, this strange creature in our territory? with white skin and yellow hair and a giant red thing protruding from her back?" they must have been thinking as i and my red backpack flew by, balanced on the back of set's motorbike.

 {my first view of sembalun}

we arrived at the crest of the hill protecting the sembalun valley from all the rest of lombok just as the sun was setting, so i got a glimpse from up above of this secret shangri-la, a patchwork quilt of fields stitching the valley together from hill to hill. i was elated, my whole being full of anticipation. whatever was in store for me, whatever job, whatever kind of homestay...i was ready, hungry even, to be filled up by an experience bigger than myself.

it was dark when we pulled up to the home of my host family, but they had been expecting us and as soon as we walked in they served us a great big home-cooked meal. this first meal, like every meal i took in sembalun, was superbly delicious: white rice, fried egg, a green bean/bean sprout/peanut/chili pepper concoction, tempe, vegetable stew, and local loose leaf tea. i slept like a baby that night, in a room all my own, and when i awoke there was another delicious meal awaiting me. no sooner had i finished it than a young indonesian man arrived to whisk me away on his motorbike to the CDC. it was then that i learned i'd be teaching english!

i taught a class in the morning at one of the local schools to little ones, a class in the afternoon at the CDC to teenagers, and in the evening to a group of male farmers, who couldn't learn until after nightfall as they spent their days in the sawa (field). i simply cannot say enough about how magnificent this experience was. being thrown into it so abruptly that first day was like being thrown overboard with no floaty, but to my rescue in a sturdy life boat came two young Aussies who have made Sembalun their second home. these lovely girls have grown roots in the magical Sembalun Valley, and were able to show me the ropes with not just teaching but also the local people, the crew at the CDC, the village gossip, where to get the best pisang goreng (fried banana!)... my time surely would not have been as great without them. on my first day they took me along with them to salong hill, one of the many emerald giants framing sembalun, to watch the sunset. a short little hike up to a stunning view over the fields, the sun's rays pullled away from the valley like the tentacles of an octopus retracting into hiding. i sat there amongst new friends, breathing the last warmth of the sun into my lungs and watching darkness gradually mute the many shades of green in the valley below, and i felt at home.

{the sunset from salong hill}

over 9 days there i fell in love with 30 little children, ate myself silly on so many phenomenal local dishes whose names or full list of ingredients are unbeknownst to me, accepted more gestures of hospitality than i could begin to count from not just total strangers- but from people who spoke not a word of my language, nor i any of theirs. each day i got on the back of some other Indonesian's motorbike to be swept off to whatever local cultural event someone thought I should see- whether to meet someone's extended family, hear traditional gamelan music, watch a wedding party march through the village, feast at a circumcision party, grill fish on a black sand beach, wade in a waterfall, walk a motorbike that's out of petrol home by only the light of the moon and stars, or laugh until i cry because the whole CDC crew dances to cheesy western music by the light of their cell phones when the power would go out, which it did nearly every single night. i felt so welcomed into their hearts and homes in Sembalun, though i truly could not be any more of a stranger- from the opposite side of the globe, from opposite circumstances.

{peeling garlic}

{gamelan}

{wedding march}

{circumcision party}

{my youngest students}

{the village soccer field}

{the CDC crew at the black sand beach}

{grilling fish at the beach}

{fresh chili sauce for our grilled fish}

{the waterfall}

{my home}

 {the view from my porch}

{my beautiful host mom}

 {me and my host sisters playing on the porch} 

{where all the magic happens...the kitchen}

 {a home cooked meal}

 

{the living room}                                    {my bedroom}

>>__________________________________<<

this morning when i left to make my way to Gili Trawangan to do some diving, my host mom and i balled like little babies. we had not had one verbal conversation, though i suppose we'd had many other kinds. i had been thinking for a few days, as i realized i would inevitably be leaving and moving on and that Sembalun would not be all of Indonesia for me, that to me, this experience, the warmth of the local Sasak people, was everything- beautiful, moving, enlightening, the overwhelmingly perfect beginning to 6 weeks in a foreign country- while i was nothing to them, just another foreigner sweeping through for a week to give a little bit of time to a community that was most certainly grateful, but ultimately didn't need me as i needed them to change my world. but when set came to pick me up and i hugged my host mom goodbye and she began to cry, i did question for a second if i was right in my thinking. why else would she be crying? in the end, i know she and her family didn't need anything from me, but perhaps she recognized how badly i had needed them, how much they had given me, and how wonderfully glad they had made me- letting me peel the garlic from their farm with them in the kitchen in the mornings, my little host sisters- Hulut and Bilal- indulging my camera by playing and posing for me in the afternoon sun on the front porch, nursing me with hot tea when my cold had undeniably overtaken me- and perhaps that realization had drawn out her motherly instinct, and she was sad to see me go because she knew as well as i did that every experience in Indonesia following my time in Sembalun would likely pale in comparison.

so grateful for the earthly magic of Sembalun and its people. i'll report back from Gili T.

till then!

OH! and PS - everyone wish my mama a happy, happy birthday!!!! today is her day!