I
gave my corset to the grandmother here after I saw her walking around on a hot
day after a ceremony at the temple, with
just a bra and sarong on, and realized that once upon a time she was young and
thin….and that just like my body has widened and dropped, so has hers, and the
small bra she was wearing was now big enough to just cover her nipples and not
much more. I had seen her return from the ceremony and wondered how she must
feel that none of her clothes fit her anymore, and she has never gone out to
buy larger ones, like I have had to do upon turning 61 and being less active
and my body spreading. She is so generous to me and such a lovely woman, that I
figured it's easier for me to go into the city and buy another corset and
blouse for the temple ceremony, than it is for her. I wasn't quite sure how I
would approach this attempt of mine to get her dressed in a respectable fashion
without insulting her or trying to control her. But as usual, their antennae
work amazingly and things are always sychronious. Just after the thought had
crossed my mind she came into my house (a rare occurrence) to bring me some hot
fried banana fritters for breakfast that she had just made. I decided it was an
omen and invited her into my bedroom and showed her my corset and with sign
language got her to put it on on top of all of her clothes just to show her
that it is an option. We struggled together to get it hooked up and zippered up
and then took out my largest white kabiya (lacey temple blouse) and put that on
top too and she had a look in the mirror and gave a sign of approval! I was so
happy. We were like two schoolgirls playing dress up alone at home.
And
now I needed a new corset! I try not to go shopping too often since it throws
me into a different reality of the modern world instead of allowing me to
continue as nature girl in the forest on dirt paths alone with the roosters and
sea. But I walked over to the main road and caught a bemo, (vw van used for
public transport) and off I went. I am becoming more and more Balinese so the
odd behavior is becoming less obvious to me, since it is no longer odd, but
there a still a few things that manage to surprise me still. One was that next
to the driver was a woman who tried to communicate with me, but I couldn't
understand the language and just smiled. 15 minutes later another woman
alighted and the woman up front spoke to her also, like she did to me, and
suddenly I realized there were 3 sleeping kids in the back seats behind me and
that she had been asking me if I can have a look if her kids are okay. The van
is probably a 1970 model and makes so much noise, that even if the child had woken
up none of us would have known. And sure enough, the woman next to the back
seats is suddenly lifting up a startled 3 year old and passing her over to her
mother in the front sea, as her 2 sleepy looking brothers intuitively also rise
their heads from the backseat to see where they are. Later an old woman climbed
on board and plopped herself down on the nearest seat to the permanently open
pint size door that one must crawl through in order to alight. The only problem
was that a 10 year old boy was already sitting on that single seat. But for her
it made no difference. I think for all Balinese it wouldn't really make a
difference. It seems that being physically close or even crunches together, is
perfectly fine. A kind of "we're all in this together" approach to
life.
I
got off at the big department store where I had bought the corset last year. It
is the only place in the north of bali that a westerner, or anyone that is not
a typically Balinese petite size, can
try and find a bra or girdle. I happily went over to the lingerie department
confident that I would find the same corset again so that I could wear it to
the ceremony in another few days. Unfortunately, they were out of my size. Not
one to take no for an answer, I decided to just try squeezing my already
overweight body since last year, into an even smaller size. The size A cup
didn't make matters any easier. But finding a zipper corset and not just the
bra hook kind at least insured that the hooks wouldn't just be pulled out of
place within an hours time of use. Needless to say, trying them on in the hot
small changing room with no mirror, left me struggling for about 30 minutes! I
was surprised no one came to find out why I was still inside for so long with
just 4 corsets to try on. Just as I went to pay for it and asked if they had
the same in white, the young salesgirl said that their other store has them and
even larger cup sizes! So…off I went
again to their other outlet some 15 minutes away.
As
I entered the lingerie department full of optimism of finally buying a corset
my size, I caught the eye of the young saleswoman and pointed to a corset and
to my big breasts and asked her to give one to me please. "Oh, Sorry mame.
We all out of big size." I have
gotten used to just standing there in silence when I am told that what I want
is not possible. Somehow that approach seems to work magic and what was
impossible a moment before, slowly becomes possible. Probably because I am so
sure that if the idea came to me, it must mean that it exists in the universe,
and now all I have to do is find a way of manifesting it here and now for me.
So
back to the dressing room again with the same small sized one I had almost
bought before, just to make sure it fits, but this time the dressing room
attendant apologized and said that it is not allowed to try on the lingerie. I
stood there in disbelief. And again, just stood there….partly trying to
comprehend what I was going to do, and partly because it just didn't make any
sense. But how do you convince someone in a language you do not speak? After a
moment or two of a stalemate I decided I would just try it on in front of
everyone in the department, without a changing room. I would just put it on top
of all of my clothes, like I did with the grama at my house. Once I started
they all joined in, trying to push and squeeze and hook and zip, all three of
us, on top of my own bra and blouse at the cash register. When they realized
that we weren't getting to far like that they agreed to let me go into a
dressing room and try by myself. And a
few minutes later off I went with two new 38A size corsets, when I am a 40
C….okay….just imagine you are in the Victorian age and hold your breath.
Now
to get back to my village. I walk out of the department store onto the main
road and just assume I will find transportation. The few people I ask respond
that there is no public transportation from here in the direction I want since
it is one way. Wondering where to go now,
one of the bemos going in the opposite direction spots bewildered me,
and as I yell out to him from across the busy road that I need the terminal, he
says fine. Happily I cross the road and join the other 5 people already inside.
I repeat my destination, and he agrees, but is driving in the opposite
direction. I wait a while and see we are going further and further from my
destination, instead of closer and closer. I again clarify where I want to go
and he again reassures me, in Balinese of course, that yes, yes, he will take
me there. What follows is a half hour detour in order to bring all kinds of
people all kinds of places. I laughed. Good thing I wasn't in a hurry, and
could just enjoy the back road tour of the city.
Once
I am dropped off at "the terminal"….a fancy name for the curb on the
main road in the direction I need to go, someone approaches me and asks where I
am going. "Tejakula". "Yes, right here please sit down" and
points to another old vw van that is empty and parked and being filled with the
smoke from the burning leaves from the adjacent lot. Sitting in a suffocating
smoke filled empty van and waiting for another 6 people to show up, is not what
I feel like doing so I move up along the curb to a smokeless area and wait
there. While I am staring into space, a man on a motorbike with a black mustached
big smile stops besides me and speaks in Balinese. I smile. Didn't understand a
word. He continues and gestures to his motorbike. I realize that I was actually
not looking forward to another long hot noisy van ride to the village, and was
day dreaming about how nice and fast it would be on a motorbike instead. So
this must be my man!
I
tell him "Tejakula" "How
much?" "20" (that's the price for the van…so I knew he wouldn't
agree but a good starting point….$2 for a 45 minute ride) "40". "no, 30"
"40" "35" and I take out the 35,000 rupias and put it in
his hand as we both continue to smile at each other. All the onlookers want to
know how much he is taking to go to Tejakula. He laughingly tells them"
only 35,000" …and off we go.
The
bike ride is great fun….he is a good driver. The view is lovely, and a nice
cool breeze. Having just learned the word for "if it is not a bother"
the day before in my Indonesian lesson, I decided to take advantage of it and
practice it with an idea that just came to my mind; that we will be passing by
the special temple by the sea, and since the next day is a big ceremony, it is
a good omen to stop and pray there today. And so using that new phrase I ask if
we can make a 5 minute stop at the temple that we will soon be passing. He
agrees and as he parks the motorbike and I ask him to help me off with the
helmet so I can go buy a basket of flowers and incense for the offering as I
pray, he is smiling his big Balinese smile.
It
is like a "drive-in" temple. There is a little stall selling the
flowers and incense for 20 cents, and some priests standing there under a small
shaded area with a table and whoever wants to just sits right down, says the 4
short one liners with clasped hands and flower petals, and is then anointed
with the holy water and off you go on your motorbike again. The part where the
priests sprinkle water on you also includes dripping water onto your right hand
three times and each time you sip it. I was so surprised to taste the delicious
sweet flowery water at this temple. When I told my friend about it he explained
to me that it is water that has stood overnight with the flowers and mantras on
it and indeed has very special power. I returned to my driver and found that he
too had been blessed as I saw the few wet grains of uncooked rice stuck onto
his third eye symbolizing he was a witness to the blessing.
Next
we stopped for gas. I wanted to show him my appreciation for stopping there for
me and noticed that a woman was selling small slices of watermelon for 20 cents
a slice, and bought two. After filling
up off we went again and soon I was back in my village, grateful for the angel
that had offered me the motorbike ride.
Two
more stops now. One to find material for a kabiya, and the other, a seamstress
that will be willing to make one in only 2 days time. As I walk along a side
road in the village, a big smiling face approaches me, and I realize it is one
of the gamelon women I played with in the orchestra. As she babbles away to me,
and me just smiling and not understanding a word, we can feel our friendship
and happiness. I sign language her and baby Indonesian talk tell her that I am
looking for material. Off we go a few shops down and suddenly I am in the
living room of another one of my favorite gamelon women, who just happens to
live right there and sells material. I am greeted by her and her 5 grown up
daughters. I am so thrilled that finally I can speak English. Three of them
speak fluent and are very kind and helpful and happy to meet and host me. I
pick out a lovely white lace material and am then wisked off to their
seamstress that will only take $5 to sew it for me. As we walk through the
narrow winding paths of the village, we suddenly turn into a long narrow
entrance way that brings me to a third gamelon woman friend! She is the
seamstress. I am so happy! Finally I have found trustworthy kind helpful
friends that I don't have to be on guard that they are trying to get more out
of me just because I am a tourist. I always thought she is a rather plain looking
older woman, non descript. But suddenly with her waist length black hair let
down, instead of in a bun, she looks so exotic and beautiful. We smile, she
quickly puts her hair in a bun and begins to measure me. I am surprised that
she takes measurements of bust, hip, length, arms, and waist, in a minute, and
only later takes out a notebook and jots down the numbers. How she remembered
them all I have no idea. And then I am off again, invited to pick up the
finished product just in time for the holiday celebration.
I
love the way it all works out in the end…..how all the right people show up at
the perfect time and my wishes come true.
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