There's always been a natural bond between me and languages. They help me understand others and myself. I took a lot of time to think about it: what I learned when I was there. People seemed so gloomy, individualist, yet communal, with high amount of acceptance. Every one of us had a story to tell (or to hide). It was one warm night, there were four of us: Chinese, Chilean, Dannish, and me, Indonesian. We had this little balcony where people would eat and talk, or just awkwardly made eye contacts. I felt as if I was a blank space, waiting for them to talk so I could write something down in my own thoughts.
I told myself, "ask me anything. honesty will be my friend tonight."
I ended up asking them questions though.
But in the end, although a simple "mucho gusto" and "voues etes de France?" did start our conversations, the laugh was still the laugh, the awkward looks remained awkward, we were all figuring out how to survive this agony of life.
It's funny how we have attached ourselves to medium that we don't understand, the concept of "being" is remained questioned in my head. So tell me about the place that I should belong to, or maybe, there was no place at all. I could never be sure whether it's going to rain or just be sunny, but what the hell. I could almost be ANYTHING I want. Anything. It was quite easy for me to tell it all: the complex relationship that I have, my past experience, my liberal and dangerous views about religion.
Boy, they didn't have to agree with me or anything. However they did listen to me. They even shared their thoughts about it.
Just one place, where there's the sun and rain in one peaceful balance,
with the kind people with the brightest hearts,
with the food that was made for the environment,
with the urge to be, peacefully free
with love,
in Ubud.
No comments:
Post a Comment