Sweet Pain

Is it true? A very friendly and quite young man has putten around 25 needles in my body, told me to relax and wait 35 minutes. Then he left the “cabin”. Around me just a language I roughly identified as Chinese and some rather unidentifiable sounds. Afterwards an assistant(?) removed the needles and I paid 200k Rupiah to the man stitching the needles all over my body.

Sounds like Acupuncture, right?

Darn right. It was the second acupuncture-treatment of my life and even though it hurried a bit, it feels… well… quite okay good so far.

What you CAN`T see

…are the needles in my head, in my legs and in my arms. Lets pray for the higher cause!

Namaste

It’s not the meditation and it’s not the yoga. It’s not the jamu, it’s not the fruits and it’s not Bali or Indonesia.

It’s much more, it’s the sum of it all together. I don’t want to call it holistic, because it’s not, but the mind working together with the body, is important and finally I am starting to feel a bit(!) better.

The Circle

Life is a circle and from time to time it starts closing. I don’t get why, but I´d give a lot to understand.

This sounds esoteric, are you going insane?

I don’t know what a psychiatrist would diagnose me, but I know my horizon has widened enormous in the 13 months that I am in Bali now. I realize so much and I am working on understanding and accepting things. Maybe more than ever before in my life.

What about the circle now?

Yesterday I spoke with a friend about my admiration for Werner Herzog. He listened carefully and interested. Than he told about a fascinating documentary he had recently seen about the dark times of Suharto reigning in Indonesia by the name “The act of Killing” and guess what? Werner Herzog co-produced it.

Bali – the island of lies?

Maybe its just me and a decent form of paranoia, but I think Bali changes quite fast and not to a better. All the lies, all the business, all the broken promises and everything else that came along corrupted that once so beauty- and peaceful island.

I blame money as the root of all evil and decided to move on. The island of my choice so far is Sumba.

No Conspiracy-Bullshit Pt. III

Things started to get a bit… unusual at the Imigrasi. I texted the number I got from Nenggah, hoped for the best and went to the Imigrasi on my scooter relatively early in the morning.

The Imigrasi is feared and often hated by many expats. Long waiting queues and a feeling one is completly helpless to the quite spontaneous decisions of authorative people in a still fairly unknown country.

Imigrasi Renon

Okay, but so far nothing unusual, no?

It started when I sat on my chair in the waiting queue. I was quite tired and afraid of the things I knew that would happen soon, with all the people I neither knew nor understood. Insecure, scared and overtired.

Suddenly a local man appeared out of nowhere. He smiled all over his face and headed directly towards me. He sat down next to me, kept on smiling and asked me if I was Chris. I confirmed and followed him to the room where ones fingerprints and photos were taken.

From that point it started to get unusual

With the greatest polite- and friendlyness the people in the photo-room helped me to sit down and even handed the fingerprint-scanner to me. Smiling all the time and showing their best manners and behavior, so I got to be back where I had parked my scooter after max. 5 minutes.

Normally it takes around 2-3 hours for this process. When I left the building, the security even opened the door for me. When I was looking for the scooter, 2 men in uniform stopped me and pointed on my scooter which already stood there, held by 2 other men in uniform.

So I just had to sit on it, turn around the key and drive home. Felt a bit like valet-parking. So my first rough calculation was that I might be back around 12, but in fact I was home around 9:30a.m.. after a nice and pleasant trip to the Imigrasi.