Kindness of Strangers

Friday, October 10, 2008

I can’t remember how long I’ve been in Ubud, or when I’m leaving. I’m not even quite sure what day it is, unless I happen to glance at my watch - if I remember to wear it at all. I’ve never felt so out of touch with the ordinary patterns of life; and yet, our days here have quickly fallen into a comfortable routine.

We found Ubud Bungalows purely by chance, a miraculous feat given the sheer volume of accommodations here. We emailed seven hotels, and they were the first to respond, but it’s ended up to be the most fortuitous part of our trip to Bali. We quickly learned that the Bungalows, nestled amongst lovely tropical gardens, are home to countless longer-term guests. First we met Ishara, the dreadlocked-Australian who I am convinced is here to teach me something about my spiritual self. She’s already been to Bali twice this year, and usually stays in two-month stretches, splitting her time between multiple locations (including Hawaii and Vanuatu) as she continues on her spiritual journey, with Australia as her vague homebase. “But I’m homeless,” she says, simply and with a smile.

The three of us were lounging around the pool one day when a guy looking like Michael J. Fox approached. “American and Australian, right?” he asked. The four of us were soon in the thick of conversation, forming a circle in the pool as we debated life’s big questions. Paul has also been to Bali twice this year - Ishara and Paul missed each other by mere weeks, and began discussing all the mutual long-term guests they knew. Originally from California, Paul worked in Munich for eight years before giving it all up to travel around the world. That was 10 years and seven round-the-world trips ago. While Paul and Ishara are both “homeless,” Paul has structured his life quite differently. He travels in three-month blocks, returning to San Diego for a month before setting off again. He has been to nearly every corner of the globe, and if I ever had a question about getting to or traveling within a location, he’d be the first person I’d call. Paul is not a millionaire - through savvy travel, he lives a great standard of life abroad at what would be considered poverty-level in the US.

Our next-door neighbor is Andreas, a German man who left his engineering job behind 15 years ago to travel around the world. Before he stopped working, though, he took two months off every winter to travel. He now splits his time between India and Indonesia, his favorite places on the globe. He is a passionate supporter of India, but recommends you leave Calcutta after 10 days, lest you develop a permanent cough from the pervasive pollution.

I find it remarkable that we have met three such interesting people, who are each leading unconventional lives in three completely different ways, purely by chance (or is there such a thing?). They represent a subset of the ex-patriot community whom I had never considered: people who call nowhere in particular home. They are the ultimate global nomads. Prior to this trip I divided the world into two groups: people who live domestically and people who live abroad. I never considered the range of possibilities that existed on the spectrum between these two poles, and it has sparked all sorts of interesting possibilities as to how I might wish to structure my life.

We are a motley crew, with plenty of differences between us. Paul and Ishara could star in a new television version of The Odd Couple. “I’ve got great angels, tons of them,” said Paul to Ishara. “I just don’t believe in any of them!” And yet we all seem to be human magnets, unwittingly drawn to one another. I know there are other guests staying at Ubud Bungalows, but we all seem to miraculously converge upon one another at multiple points throughout the day. Most mornings begin over breakfast with Ishara and/or Paul, and can easily stretch into the early afternoon. The day often continues into the pool - we’re pretty sure there’s a vortex centered squarely over the water — where we trade everything from stock tips to travel advice, while debating world economies and spiritual philosophies in the next breath. If the world would bring its problems to the Ubud Bungalows Think Tank, I’m pretty sure we could bring about world peace within the week.

Despite the fact that there are dozens of restaurants in Ubud, we all somehow manage to end up in the same eateries at least once a day without planning to do so. Yesterday we lingered at Sagittarius for seven hours, as day drifted into night. Our radius of exploring Ubud grows smaller by the day: I have never been so busy doing nothing. But it’s been ages since I’ve felt so engaged, interested, stimulated, and, well, happy. The last time I remember feeling this free was when I lived in the dorms in college, where I had few obligations and nowhere in particular to be. I remember passionate, impromptu discussions springing up in the most unlikely of places, with the most unlikely of people, and I loved every minute of it. I feel a bit like I’m at Big Kids’ Summer Camp. Sometimes we’re so focused on having a local experience that we forget how much we can learn from fellow travelers; indeed, fellow humans. This is the joy of extended travel; having the luxury of time to engage with all sorts of interesting people without feeling riddled by guilt. It makes no difference that I have seen so little of Bali. I am getting exactly what I need out of each day.