Chapter 17 Indonesian Stories (16)

"You are the lucky one," he said, "you are lucky to see him. Sometimes I see my brother when I meditate, but normal people are rare. I think you have great spiritual power. I hope someday You can be a pharmacist." "Okay," I said with a smile, "as long as I can still watch my TV series." He laughed along with me, not because he understood jokes, of course, but because he liked people making jokes.Grandpa Lai taught me that whenever I talk to my four brothers, I have to tell them who I am so they can recognize me.I have to use the nickname they gave me.I have to say: "I am "LagohPrano"."

"LagohPrano" means "Happy Body". I rode my bicycle home, and in the evening sunset, I pushed my happy body to my home on the mountain.On my way through the woods, a big male monkey fell from a tree in front of me and bared his teeth at me.I had no intention of backing down at all.I said, "Jack, get out of the way--I've got four brothers to protect me." So I just rode by her. However the next day (despite being protected by four brothers), I was hit by a bus.The bus was not big, but it still caused me to fall off my bike on a road with no shoulders, throwing me into a concrete ditch.About thirty Balinese bikers stopped to help me, they had witnessed the accident (the bus was long gone), everyone invited me to their house for tea, or offered to drive me to the hospital, and they felt bad about the whole incident.Although given the dire outcomes that could have ensued, that doesn't sound like a catastrophe.My bike was fine, although the basket twisted and the helmet cracked (better than a blown head).The worst damage was a deep gash on my knee, covered in gravel and mud, which later - in the humid tropical air of the ensuing days - became horribly infected.

I didn't want to worry Mr. Lai, but after a few days, I finally rolled up my trouser legs on his balcony, tore off the yellowed bandages, and showed the old pharmacist my wounds.He stared worriedly at the wound. "Infection," he diagnosed, "it hurts." "Yes." I said. "You should see a doctor." This is a little surprising.Isn't he a doctor?Yet for some reason, he didn't offer to help, and I didn't force him.Maybe he doesn't prescribe medicine to Westerners.Or Lai just had a hidden trick up his sleeve, because the bruised knee led me to finally meet my eldest sister (Wayan).Since that meeting, everything that was destined to happen...has happened.

Sister Nuriyasih (Wayan Nuriyasih) is a Balinese therapist, just like the fourth brother.But they are a little different.One is an old man and the other is a woman who is nearly forty years old; Mr. Lai is a monk-like figure with a mysterious color, and the eldest sister is a doctor with practical experience, who mixes herbs in her shop and takes care of patients. My eldest sister has a shop in the center of Ubud called "Bali Traditional Medical Center".I passed by Lai's house several times on my bike ride; I noticed the store because of the potted plants outside and the handwritten notice "Multivitamin Lunch Special".But I hadn't been to this place before my knee got infected.However, when Grandpa Lai asked me to see a doctor, I remembered this store, so I rode over here, hoping that someone could help me with my infection.

The eldest sister's shop is a small clinic, which also doubles as a home and a restaurant.Downstairs there was a small kitchen, and a small communal dining area with three tables and a few chairs.Upstairs is the dedicated area for the eldest sister to give patients massage and treatment, and there is a dark bedroom behind. With a sore knee, I hobbled into the shop and introduced myself to the big sister therapist, a charming Balinese woman with a wide smile and gorgeous black hair reaching to her waist.Two little girls hid in the kitchen behind her, and I waved at them, and they smiled, then ducked in again.I showed my eldest sister the infected wound and asked if she could help.Soon, the eldest sister boiled water and herbs on the stove, and asked me to drink "jamu" soup - a traditional homemade medicine soup in Bali.She put warm green leaves on my knees.I started feeling better right away.

Let's talk.She speaks English very well.She is Balinese and immediately asked me three standard questions - "Where are you going today?" "Where are you from?" "Are you married?" She looked taken aback when I said I was unmarried ("not yet married"). "Never married?" she asked. "No." I lied.I don't like to lie, but I generally find it best not to file for divorce with Balinese people because it makes them uncomfortable. "Really never married?" she asked again, looking at me now with interest. "Really," I lied, "I've never been married."

"Are you sure?" It was starting to feel odd.