Chapter 21 Indonesian Stories (20)

However, Lai Ye's views on heaven and hell are different, as if he has indeed been to these places in the universe.At least I think that's what he meant. Wanting to find out, I asked, "Master Lai, have you ever been to hell?" he smiles.Of course he has. "What is hell like?" "It's like heaven," he said. Seeing my blank face, he tried to explain: "The universe is a circle, Xiao Li." I guess I'm still not clear. He said, "Go up, go down—it's all the same in the end." I remember an ancient and mystical concept in Christianity: "As above, so below".I asked, "Then how do you tell the difference between heaven and hell?"

"See how you get there. Heaven, you go up, through the seven happy places. Hell, you go down, through the seven sad places. So it's better to go up, Lily." He laughed. I asked, "You mean, heaven and hell are the same destination anyway, and you might as well go up and pass through the happy place in your life?" "It's all the same, it's all the same," he said, "it's all the same, so better have a good trip." I said, "Well, if heaven is love, hell is..." "Love too," he said. I sat there thinking for a while, trying to figure out the answer.

Grandpa Lai smiled again and patted my knee affectionately. "Young people always have a hard time understanding this level of meaning!" So this morning I was hanging out at my sister's shop again, and she was trying to make my hair grow faster and thicker.She herself has thick, shiny, waist-length hair, and feels sorry for my little bundle of blond hair.As a therapist, she naturally has a way to help my hair grow thicker, but it's not easy.First I had to find a banana tree and cut it down myself.I had to "throw away the tree head", and then carve the trunk and roots (the roots were still deep in the soil) into a deep and large bowl, like a "swimming pool".Then I had to put a piece of wood on top of the pit to keep the rain and dew from running in.I had to come back a few days later and saw the pool filled with the nutritious juice of the banana root. I had to collect the juice in a bottle and bring it back to my sister.She took the banana extract to worship in the temple, and then applied the juice on my scalp every day.In a few months, you will be like your big sister, with thick, beautiful waist-length hair.

"Even bald," she said, "can grow hair." While we were talking, Tutti, who had just come home from school, was sitting on the floor drawing, drawing a house.Tutti has mostly been painting houses these days.She longs to own her own house.In her paintings, there is always a rainbow in the background, and a smiling family—the father and the whole family. That's what we do all day at Big Sister's.We sat and talked, Tutti drew, my sister and I chatted and joked about each other.The eldest sister likes to tell pornographic jokes, talk about sex all day long, belittle me as single, and speculate on the reproductive talents of passing men.She kept telling me that she went to the temple every night to pray for a good man to come into my life and be my lover.

This morning, I told her again: "No, sister - I don't need to. I've been heartbroken too many times." She said: "I know how to cure heartbreak." The eldest sister pointed out six "zero-failure heartbreak cures" with her fingers with the attitude of an authoritative doctor-"Vitamin E, getting enough sleep, drinking enough water, staying away from what you used to The one you love, sit in meditation, and believe in your heart that this is your own destiny." "I do everything except vitamin E." "So now you're healed. Now you need a new man. I'll ask God for you."

"I don't ask God for a new man, Miss. I just ask for peace these days." The older sister rolled her eyes like she was saying "Come on you big white monster, say what you want" and then went on to say "That's because you have a bad memory. You've forgotten how good sex is. I used to be married My memory was not good at that time. Every time I saw a handsome man walking on the street, I forgot that there was a husband at home." She almost fell to the ground laughing.Then she calmed down and concluded, "Everyone needs sex, Lily." At this time, a beautiful woman walked into the store with a beacon-like smile.Tutti jumped up and ran into her arms, shouting: "Armenia! Armenia! Armenia!" It turned out to be the woman's name—not some weird nationalist cry.I introduced myself to Armenia and she told me she was Brazilian.This woman is very dynamic - very Brazilian.She is gorgeous, elegantly dressed, temperamental and charming, ageless and extremely sexy.

Armenia is also a friend of the eldest sister. She often comes to the store for lunch and receives various traditional medical and beauty services.She sat down and chatted with us for nearly an hour, joining our little circle of aunts and wives.She only has a week left in Bali before flying to Africa or returning to Thailand to take care of her business.The life of this woman named Armenia turned out to be anything but gorgeous.She previously served with the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees.In the 1980s, she was sent as a peace mediator in the jungles of El Salvador and Nicaragua, where wars were raging. She used her beauty, charm and wit to calm down every general and rebel army. (Hello, Pretty Power!) Now she runs an international marketing company called Novica, which sponsors Indigenous artists around the world to sell their products online.She can speak about seven or eight languages.She also wore some of the brightest shoes I've seen since the trip to Rome.