I'm back in the US and of course had some trouble getting home. It seems as if the universe was intent on kicking my ass the entire time I was gone, but man, what an adventure I had.
I booked my flights, routing me through Perth and then Sydney while still in Bali. I made sure I had to appropriate electronic Visa to get into Australia and though I was dreading the almost 30 hours of flight time to get home, I was thrilled. My leg was giving me constant problems and I could barely walk to the store to buy water. Not exactly a fun place to be in while alone in a foreign country. I woke up early for my flight to Perth and made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare. I went to check in with Air Asia, and the ticket counter guy scanned my passport. He paused and looked at me with a curious look on his face. "I'm sorry, you aren't allowed to board the plane." He tilted his screen towards me and there it was, a giant Do Not Allow To Board screen. I told him their must be some mistake, I was certainly allowed to fly to Australia. He told me that I would be sent back to Indonesia if he allowed me to board and since my Indo Visa expired the next day, I wouldn't be allowed back in. I began to panic. I was in horrible pain, dragging my backpack, in the Denpasar, Bali airport and basically at a loss as to what to do. He gave me a website and told me to contact the Australian embassy through it. I wandered around the airport for a bit, trying to find an internet signal and finally decided that there had be an Australia Consulate in Bali. There just HAD to be one and I would go there and get it sorted out. The fourth cab driver I asked knew where it was and off I went, an hour ride away to try and get proof that I could actually leave Bali.
I sat outside the Australian Consulate for 3 hours, my passport inside the building, and finally the agent came out with a piece of paper that said I was allowed to enter Australia. It seems that their was a glich in the airlines system that automatically rejected my passport. I grabbed a cab back to the airport and showed the Air Asia people all the forms, trying to get them to put me on another flight. After all, it was their fault that I missed my flight. They, in true asshole corporate form, refused to refund my ticket or reroute me in any way. I whipped out my credit card and paid $400 for a flight to Sydney, deciding to bypass Perth all together. So, it cost me a total of $800 to get from Bali to Australia. Fun times.
I finally made it to San Fransisco some 48 hours later and boarded a flight to Las Vegas. I spent the next 4 days, comfortable on my friend Beau's couch, seeing various friends, the ones that really matter to me. It was strange being back. It struck me how incredibly easy life is in the US and I plan to post another blog about that soon. After Vegas, I went to Atlanta to see friends from my former life there, spending my time once again on the couch with my stupid leg up.
Peace, love and joy,
Lara
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Following My Heart All The Way Home
One of the hardest decisions I have had to make as of late, was my decision to come home to the States.
I have spent the past couple of weeks in more pain than I have ever been in my life. I can't walk more than 10 feet without almost falling. I feel incredibly isolated and lonely most of the time, stuck in non-descript rooms in guest houses around Bali with almost no options. I can't even walk to get a water without enduring incredible pain. Here I am, in one of the most beautiful places I have ever been to and I can't see any of it. I started to question if I can really do this for the next couple of years and I still haven't come up with an answer.
I have always been one to completely follow what my heart tells me to do and so I made the heart decision to come back to the States for a spell. A part of me feels like such a failure, because the absolute truth is that my leg will heal, it can heal here, but I do want to come home. I had all of these grandiose plans to see as much of the world as possible, but I'm not sure I can make the cut. Someone very dear to me asked me what I had learned on this journey and the list is so very long. I guess in the end, I have to hold on to that and remember that this is all part of it, of that growth and a direct result of it.
I am scared to come home. I am scared I will lose the lessons I have learned about myself and others. I will do my best to hold on to those things that have made me grow in leaps and bounds. I feel as though I will have some culture shock, after living amongst such simple, wonderful people all over the world. The love and compassion shown to me has taught me so many things. That it's OK to accept help and OK to be weak at times. It's OK to be vulnerable and I don't have to be tough all of the time. Any sort of ego I had, was knocked out of me with a hammer like blow so many times in so many different places.
I still don't want the typical American life. I am still going to be traveling around, seeing friends, working a bit (man, how I have missed work) and being the best friend possible to those that know how to be a friend to me.
My plans are to fly to San Fransisco later this week from Sydney, then go to Vegas for a couple of days to see a few people and then off to Atlanta to see some friends from my past life there. After that, I will be going to St. Thomas for Thanksgiving and from there? Who knows. I sure don't. But, still this is my journey, just tweaked a bit and of course, I like not knowing.
I am going to remain open to any and all possibilities. I think I will end up in some pretty spectacular places with people that know and love me. And that my friends, is where I need to be right now.
Peace, love, and joy
Lara
I have spent the past couple of weeks in more pain than I have ever been in my life. I can't walk more than 10 feet without almost falling. I feel incredibly isolated and lonely most of the time, stuck in non-descript rooms in guest houses around Bali with almost no options. I can't even walk to get a water without enduring incredible pain. Here I am, in one of the most beautiful places I have ever been to and I can't see any of it. I started to question if I can really do this for the next couple of years and I still haven't come up with an answer.
I have always been one to completely follow what my heart tells me to do and so I made the heart decision to come back to the States for a spell. A part of me feels like such a failure, because the absolute truth is that my leg will heal, it can heal here, but I do want to come home. I had all of these grandiose plans to see as much of the world as possible, but I'm not sure I can make the cut. Someone very dear to me asked me what I had learned on this journey and the list is so very long. I guess in the end, I have to hold on to that and remember that this is all part of it, of that growth and a direct result of it.
I am scared to come home. I am scared I will lose the lessons I have learned about myself and others. I will do my best to hold on to those things that have made me grow in leaps and bounds. I feel as though I will have some culture shock, after living amongst such simple, wonderful people all over the world. The love and compassion shown to me has taught me so many things. That it's OK to accept help and OK to be weak at times. It's OK to be vulnerable and I don't have to be tough all of the time. Any sort of ego I had, was knocked out of me with a hammer like blow so many times in so many different places.
I still don't want the typical American life. I am still going to be traveling around, seeing friends, working a bit (man, how I have missed work) and being the best friend possible to those that know how to be a friend to me.
My plans are to fly to San Fransisco later this week from Sydney, then go to Vegas for a couple of days to see a few people and then off to Atlanta to see some friends from my past life there. After that, I will be going to St. Thomas for Thanksgiving and from there? Who knows. I sure don't. But, still this is my journey, just tweaked a bit and of course, I like not knowing.
I am going to remain open to any and all possibilities. I think I will end up in some pretty spectacular places with people that know and love me. And that my friends, is where I need to be right now.
Peace, love, and joy
Lara
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Bali Part 2- A Knock Out Blow
Sometimes life throws you tiny little punches barely glancing off you and sometimes it throws you a wave so big that it knocks you on your ass for weeks.
After arriving in Kuta, Bali and finding a terrific place to stay, I went off in search of some local surfers. In part to show me the best breaks, to show me some new skills, and to hopefully surf with for a bit. I always find the locals when I go surfing and that strategy has served me well. Being a female and not nearly as good as any of them, they have often tended to take me under their wing and show me around. I wandered not far from my guest house and found a surf shop. The guys were busy repairing boards in their tiny little shop. I walked up and introduced myself and before I knew it, they had me sit down and we all engage in some lively conversation. Roland, the one that knew the most English, and I hit it off immediately. The next day we went out to Halfway Beach in Kuta, boards in hand and hit it hard. It was an amazing session. That is what surfing is all about. I hit my sweet spot and became one with the wave and my board. I was in heaven. For the next couple of days I surfed some amazing waves with the boys and drank beers with them in the afternoon.
On the last day that I went out, we paddled out to the break. I spotted a monster and knew that it was too big for my skill set, but I have never been one to not take on something too big and so I went for it. The second I stood up my leg twisted. It felt like I had been shot in the calf. Roland helped me out and up and I limped on back home, not grasping what I had really done to myself by taking on that monster. The next day, I woke up in a massive amount of pain and even though I couldn't walk, decided I would go out again. I stubbornly insisted that surfing isn't like walking and I would be just fine. I limped to the shop and Roland gave me a scooter ride to the breaks, board strapped to the side of the scooter. It was to be a costly mistake as I had a horrible session and I hurt myself even more.
It turns out that I have a stage 2 torn calf muscle, made worse by the fact that my stubbornness got in the way and I went out a second time and tried to surf on it. I was absolutely miserable and in the worst pain I have ever been in. After seeing a local doctor, which is a treat in itself; mostly because of language barriers, I decided to stay off it as much as possible. I couldn't find crutches anywhere and I was pretty much stuck at my guest house, which thank goodness had a pool. For someone as active as I am, it was a serious blow. I woke up every morning for the next week and insisted it was better and try to walk on it. After a few days I went back to the doctor because of excruciating pain and discovered that because of my inability to actually listen and stay off my feet, I had torn a ligament in my knee.
It's hard to convey how wonderful the guys from the surf shop were to me. They gave me scoot rides to the doctor, they helped me walk and brought me dinner. Their are 5 of them that live and work at the surf shop. They sleep on mats in the back room and work from 9 am until 11 pm on most days. They are some of the happiest people I have ever met. "We get to watch the sunset everyday, we get to surf, and we get to play our guitars at night with our friends. We dont need much more than that Ms. Lara." It is so very humbling. All over Southeast Asia I have met people like that. And they are happy, more so than I could ever imagine being in the same circumstances.
I left Kuta, Bali yesterday for the interior. Ubud is this amazing little town, filled with artists and writers. It is absolutely beautiful. I had a horrific van ride up here, jammed in the front seat, my leg swelling to monstrous size, but even though I cried the whole way from the pain and didn't stop until I met a fellow traveler for dinner, I am happy I came. I'm going to extend my Visa for another 30 days and get better up here. I entertained brief thoughts of coming home, crying my eyes out. But if I'm going to convalesce I figure I might as well do it in Bali. Today, I am going to see an acupuncturist and a herbal healer. I figure that I might as well give Eastern medicine a try since I'm here.
The local people I have met have been taking care of me and fellow travelers have carried my bags for me and helped me walk. People are so incredibly nice everywhere I go, and there I go again, tears in my eyes thinking about it. For someone resistant to accepting help from anyone, I have learned that sometimes you need it, sometime you can't do everything yourself. I only hope that I can return the favor of universal compassion everyday of my life and never forget the kindness shown to me around the world.
Peace, love and joy!
Lara
After arriving in Kuta, Bali and finding a terrific place to stay, I went off in search of some local surfers. In part to show me the best breaks, to show me some new skills, and to hopefully surf with for a bit. I always find the locals when I go surfing and that strategy has served me well. Being a female and not nearly as good as any of them, they have often tended to take me under their wing and show me around. I wandered not far from my guest house and found a surf shop. The guys were busy repairing boards in their tiny little shop. I walked up and introduced myself and before I knew it, they had me sit down and we all engage in some lively conversation. Roland, the one that knew the most English, and I hit it off immediately. The next day we went out to Halfway Beach in Kuta, boards in hand and hit it hard. It was an amazing session. That is what surfing is all about. I hit my sweet spot and became one with the wave and my board. I was in heaven. For the next couple of days I surfed some amazing waves with the boys and drank beers with them in the afternoon.
On the last day that I went out, we paddled out to the break. I spotted a monster and knew that it was too big for my skill set, but I have never been one to not take on something too big and so I went for it. The second I stood up my leg twisted. It felt like I had been shot in the calf. Roland helped me out and up and I limped on back home, not grasping what I had really done to myself by taking on that monster. The next day, I woke up in a massive amount of pain and even though I couldn't walk, decided I would go out again. I stubbornly insisted that surfing isn't like walking and I would be just fine. I limped to the shop and Roland gave me a scooter ride to the breaks, board strapped to the side of the scooter. It was to be a costly mistake as I had a horrible session and I hurt myself even more.
It turns out that I have a stage 2 torn calf muscle, made worse by the fact that my stubbornness got in the way and I went out a second time and tried to surf on it. I was absolutely miserable and in the worst pain I have ever been in. After seeing a local doctor, which is a treat in itself; mostly because of language barriers, I decided to stay off it as much as possible. I couldn't find crutches anywhere and I was pretty much stuck at my guest house, which thank goodness had a pool. For someone as active as I am, it was a serious blow. I woke up every morning for the next week and insisted it was better and try to walk on it. After a few days I went back to the doctor because of excruciating pain and discovered that because of my inability to actually listen and stay off my feet, I had torn a ligament in my knee.
It's hard to convey how wonderful the guys from the surf shop were to me. They gave me scoot rides to the doctor, they helped me walk and brought me dinner. Their are 5 of them that live and work at the surf shop. They sleep on mats in the back room and work from 9 am until 11 pm on most days. They are some of the happiest people I have ever met. "We get to watch the sunset everyday, we get to surf, and we get to play our guitars at night with our friends. We dont need much more than that Ms. Lara." It is so very humbling. All over Southeast Asia I have met people like that. And they are happy, more so than I could ever imagine being in the same circumstances.
I left Kuta, Bali yesterday for the interior. Ubud is this amazing little town, filled with artists and writers. It is absolutely beautiful. I had a horrific van ride up here, jammed in the front seat, my leg swelling to monstrous size, but even though I cried the whole way from the pain and didn't stop until I met a fellow traveler for dinner, I am happy I came. I'm going to extend my Visa for another 30 days and get better up here. I entertained brief thoughts of coming home, crying my eyes out. But if I'm going to convalesce I figure I might as well do it in Bali. Today, I am going to see an acupuncturist and a herbal healer. I figure that I might as well give Eastern medicine a try since I'm here.
The local people I have met have been taking care of me and fellow travelers have carried my bags for me and helped me walk. People are so incredibly nice everywhere I go, and there I go again, tears in my eyes thinking about it. For someone resistant to accepting help from anyone, I have learned that sometimes you need it, sometime you can't do everything yourself. I only hope that I can return the favor of universal compassion everyday of my life and never forget the kindness shown to me around the world.
Peace, love and joy!
Lara
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