Sickness and Running Stories

The 15 hour ride back to Malang seemed so much longer than the first trip coming to Bali. I had caught a cold after diving and I seemed to be getting a fever. It wasn't the most pleasurable experience I have to say, being in the middle seat trying to sleep through the night while sick. I think my maximum time asleep only ever reached 45 minutes. The clock seemed to move incredibly slowly. At one point when I woke from my brief slumber the guy next to me had his head firmly planted on my left shoulder, and my hair was stuck behind Ocha's back to my right. I painfully tugged but it wouldn't come loose. I was frozen in position, splendid.

Eventually we arrived back home in Malang, and I probably should have slept. Instead I watched the fourth Pirates of the Caribbean. By this time I was thinking I had food poisoning, making excessive trips to the bathroom and taking my Cipro. I ate one piece of bread with peanut butter and nearly threw up. (On a side note: people hardly ever eat bread here, but when they do it is always either white and completely refined with no nutritional value, or it is green. Green because of the leaves they use to make the flour, not mold hah.)

I spent the next few days lounging around the house. Later in the week I went shopping with Ocha a few times. By Thursday I was feeling completely better, so I went for a run around the neighborhood. Indonesians do not consider exercise important, and the lack of physical exercise has been making me go crazy. Running is not as enjoyable here as it is in the states, I have to admit. Everyone stares at me, stopping their work to look as I go by. Three reasons: 1) I am running, and people just don't run 2) I am a female running, and females are never athletic, and 3) I am a buleh female running. Buleh is what they call westerners.


Construction sites are the worst. There are SIX in my small neighborhood. They always call out to me. There are two gigantic projects going on - two hotels I think - and even here I will hear whistles coming from the top. At the smaller construction projects, the houses, the men like to practice their English. I ran by two guys sitting on the curb that just said, "Miss, you are beautiful."

One good experience was meeting some girls on bikes. I don't remember their names, but they followed me for the last sections of my run, and then I got one of Mr. Naim's bikes and joined them. It was really fun, and I was able to try out my growing Indonesia skills. They didn't speak any English. The following day I rode bikes with them again. One of the girls fell going up a hill and bloodied her knee. We were close to Mr. Naim's house so I ran in to get my first aid kit. I felt so grown-up and was reminded of my lifeguarding days, tending to the little girl. I also brought some fruit snacks from America out for them, which I think they enjoyed.