adventures in wonderland

Being in Bali makes you imagine all of the kindest, happiest people in the world with the least to be happy about, all live on this tiny little piece of paradise. Tiny is not an exaggeration; Bali is minuscule – but only geographically. It is a tapestry of colors all to be experienced. Someone said before we went that you could drive along the entire coastline in a day, so we did.
We were waiting in the reception area of the resort we stayed in, my mother needed to get a package from a friend of a friend of someone that she went to school with. We sat on a bench not knowing who or what to expect.
Undang, a proper lady, with an inviting smile and a ring on every finger climbed out of a car and greeted us like family, hugs all around. Her English was broken but nevertheless delightful and she was thrilled to meet people and speak to people she didn’t owe anything to and whom she would probably never see again.
We had a cup of coffee in the restaurant and she asked what we had seen and what we were planning on seeing, long story short she ended up insisting that there were parts of Bali that we would never see on tours - that she would have to show us.
We piled into her car without any questions and we were off.
We stopped at a tiny bakery, we all went in and she insisted that we needed to get one of everything, because each and every one told a different story and we couldn't miss one of them.
We then stopped in a busy street, people bartering and screaming and laughing,people carrying baskets and boxes and wagons and carts all filled to the brim - literally organized chaos. Inside one of the buildings was a huge market, with fruits I had never seen before, bright vegetables and the freshest seafood and all of this, locally grown or caught that morning and sold in this market by the farmer or fisherman or someone in the farmers or fisherman’s family. She took us to the temples, and then rice terraces, we bought ballpoint pen drawings with more detail than a Fabergé eggs, we stopped a every single stall selling pottery after my mother had spoken about ceramics. After a full day of adventuring and storytelling she invited us to her house for a swim and to meet her daughter and granddaughter. She told us about her late husband. A German war veteran who owned and ran a fleet of fishing boats.
That night we sat around a Balinese family's dinner table and shared their dinner, she told us her stories and we told her ours. I will never forget that.