I can not send photos from this internet cafe, so I will wait until I am back in Ubud to do so. I sit now in a small stall with little circulation and an engery efficient light bulb hanging from its socket, a piece of white paper folded like a cone around it... I wasn't surprised when they said I could not plug in my card reader.

Today I had a massage from Wayan, an older woman who still remembers meeting me when she and a friend gave Bruce a double massage on the beach. That lets you know how few Americans come to this side of Bali. She also shared with me the sad news that my favorite girl who came to massage had died suddenly in her sleep seven months ago! I was so shocked because this young woman named Ketut, had three children, a handicapped husband, and the most beautiful healthy smile and body that you could imagine.

I heard several accounts of how Ketut died, as I asked about her more from others. Each story was told in a whisper and as though in the strictest confidence... from anemia to black magic... one person even told me that her spirit had talked to the local healer and told him she was sad and confirmed that black magic- a spell cast by someone who was jealous of her- was the cause.

Later in the day when I was alone and watching the waves come in, I thought about Ketut and all the stories, and I felt so far from home.