We use the word exotic to describe a place of beauty, of mystery maybe... a place that is different from that which we are comfortable, a place with hidden secrets and maybe even spiritualness. Bali has been that exotic place for me in the past... but for now, that mysterious beauty is a bit elusive.

I am, by choice and because of my friendship with Iluh and her family, spending much time in the village of Jemeluk, right on the beach. The houses are no more than single rooms made of bamboo poles and woven grasses. Smoke from the fires fills the air, and garbage is strewn along the paths that lead from house to house. A pig stands tied to a post all day. The piglets come to nurse, practically swimming in muck just to suckle.The fishing boats sit idle, while the men mend their nets and women try to sew black plastic buckets back together with fishing line.

I lay on a mattress on Iluh and Nengah's porch. Their two room house is made of cinder blocks with wooden silled glass windows which Iluh has painted with turquoise and black paint. They have, by far, the most modern home in the neighborhood. There is much jealousy. As we lay on the pillows and talk, Iluh showing me how to sms on her mobile phone, she notices something black in a nearby tree. "What's that?" she asks in a frightened voice.

I look... I see nothing. She points and sits up. "There, it is black." I look again and see nothing out of the ordinary. "It is just the tree, Iluh," I say. But she jumps up and I follow her to the tree. She sees for herself that it is just a dead part of the tree that she has not noticed before. "I thought it was black magic," she said in a hushed voice. "Many people are jealous. But the gods are good to me. I think they show me first before it can harm us."
We go back to the mattress and try to sms my friend Anik back in Ubud, as we eat mackeral and rice... vegetables and spices are not in their budget she tells me.

A few minutes later, a woman comes by and they speak for a while in balinese. Iluh unlocks her wooden door and goes inside. She comes out with some money. The woman's husband is sick and he must go to the hospital. She borrows money that maybe she can pay back in 6 months... but Iluh says she has no job. She lends the money anyway.

A little while later, I ride with her on the dark road back to Prema Liong. On a steep hill, the engine turns off... "So sorry, Jodie. We have no gas." We push the bike to the side, and enjoy the quiet and the sound of the sea below us. We are near her village temple on the cliff and the spiritualnes feels strong to me. We wait.

Soon a man comes by and stops. He is from another village,but knows Iluh, and goes to get gas. He returns and does not let her pay. Karma we both say.