Chapter 21

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Well, here I am in Bali, still searching for a sign. Let's hope that the visit to Ketut's house will be a better experience - one tinged with interesting clues about the future. Just like he did for Liz in Eat Pray Love.

Aya found us a driver to take Jeremiah and I from Legian beach to Ubud. Compared to the busy, dirty, touristy, punk, hustling and bustling, where mopeds travel on sidewalks, that is Legian Beach in Kuta, Ubud definitely feels a lot quieter, more cultural, more peaceful, more like the Indonesia I'd imagined. What I mean by that is you see a lot of one-story villas with their stone walls, lush green gardens of tropical plants, statues of elephants, and zero traffic.

Ketut's garden looks just like the one in the movie. Inside the stone walls are brilliant orchids growing on tree trunks, toddler sized bonsai trimmed without restraint, birds, monkeys, eagles, dogs, fountains, statues of half-naked men and women, temples, plants of all kinds housed in one courtyard of houses. This garden-zoo-medicine man combination somehow makes me think of a magician's house. My heart is pounding with excitement and apprehension. Is he really going to give me the answer I've been looking for? Is he even credible?

Before embarking on this journey, I did do a little bit of research on Ketut. Some say he's dead (that just about gave me a heart attack). If the real Ketut is dead, then who is this elderly man I'm about to see? An imposter? Others say he tells everyone the same thing, and often forgets what he's already told you. Whatever he tells me, I want to believe him.

Everyone takes a number. And my number is 13. Jeremiah says it's unlucky and switches with me to 12. We wait in Ketut's garden for 2.5 hours. (Jeremiah also wanted to see the Monkey Forest and the Rice Fields in Ubud, and we could have very well gone to those and made it back in time to see Ketut. But knowing how important this was for me, Jeremiah insisted that we stay so we don't miss our turn.)

By around 2 o'clock in the afternoon, it is finally our turn to see Ketut. He looks just like the way Liz Gilbert described him: toothless, sitting on his porch, wearing a sarong and a golf shirt. 

I sit down cross-legged from him, nervous, excited, and stoned from the nap I'd just taken, all at the same time.

He studies my face for a minute.

"You very very pretty. I read this book, you have this black on your face," pointing at the black mole on my chin.

"It means you very very influential, very very lucky. What you say, when you talking with someone, someone very happy, will listen to you. When you ask someone, someone very happy, will give you. This good black."

Then he looks at my face from left to right and says decidedly, "Ok for you, you must be business." I don't know how he could tell I'm in business. Maybe he does have some special powers after all. His credibility rating is rising.

"You already married?"

"What do you think?" I test him.

"I think you already married."

"Not married," I shake my head, feigning sadness.

"Not married yet? Only boyfriend?" Ketut's shocked.

"No boyfriend."

"Nothing? Really? For sure? You're not joking?" He's probably wondering: who's that guy you came with then? Perplexed by my responses, Ketut proceeds to reading my palm.

"Life line start from here, go to here," Ketut explains, "you have two life lines. You will live till 101. You very very lucky. Anywhere you go, you will be success." This part I've heard him say to other people. But then all of a sudden, he says,

"More writing, like letters," he scribbles with his fingers on my arm.

Did he just say "write"? Did he really just say that? The word I came all the way to Bali for? I was in shock. It kindda just rolled off his tongue like all the other slurred words he's been saying. Some of which are accurate, others not so much. This word just came out of there like it's nothing special. But it's so special to me.

Ever since my teens, I've had this dream of retiring at 30 and writing novels by the beach. A minor difficulty was that the beach houses in Vancouver generally start at several million dollars. I never figured out how to make that much money. But the idea of writing all day seemed like a great way to spend my time.

But why wait till 30 to live my dream, why not give myself a sneak preview now, experiment a little and see if I like it?

That was when my 2-month trip turned into a 3-month one: 2 months of traveling across China, and the last month to live my dream – go to Bali, live by the beach and write.

"Do you mean that I write? Or that I should write?" I ask Ketut, trying to make sure I heard him right.

"Not yet. If you do more writing, you will be success." My heart was overflowing with joy! But I practice restraint and do not to show it, and part of me is still in disbelief.

I've always had this resistance about writing. I hadn't examined it enough to even label it as fear. Fear of failure, fear of reading over what I've written, fear that if I can't write, then what am I good for? I'd have no excuse, no backup plans, no place for my ego to hide. It's that "if I haven't given it my all, then I haven't really failed" mental safety net that I enjoy hiding under. So I kept putting off writing as something I'd do after retirement. Instead, I chose business because it's realistic. It's safe. But maybe I was hiding behind the glossy cover of realism because I was so damn afraid, afraid of dreaming big, afraid of rejection, afraid that I'm not good enough, that I gave up before I even tried.

But Ketut's telling me to give writing a try.

Starting now.

I came all the way to Bali for this affirmation from him. And he gave it to me. Just like that.

And then as if completely uninterested by what he just said, Ketut turns his attention to Jeremiah, who's been filming us this whole time, "I think the girl, is girlfriend. I see you as boyfriend. If you happy with this, and this very happy with you, you will be lucky, handsome boy."

Jeremiah opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

"And this is a pretty girl!" Ketut pushes the sale.

"I think he's trying to play matchmaker," Jeremiah says at last.

"You get married with this?" Ketut asks Jeremiah.

Jeremiah opened his mouth again, and shrugged his shoulders wide-eyed.

Long pause...

"Wei!!!" Ketut raises his voice, forcing a response.

"I don't know! I just met her!" Jeremiah protests.

Another long, awkward pause...

"Do you think I should marry him?" I ask Ketut.

"Woooo, not now. Waiting a moment," Ketut says, sensing Jeremiah's hesitation.

"No rush, no rush," Jeremiah's relieved.

Ketut returns to palm reading, "Luck line, you're very lucky. Money line, you will become rich. First you have boyfriend, not married yet. Don't crying, don't sad. Moment you will get married when you meet the handsome boy. Handsome boy your good partner. You get married until the end of your life. Harmony in your life."

"The kidney very strong, the heart very strong, the lungs very strong, gall bladder very strong. I check your energy. Blood I check. Very very strong blood. This is meaning, at night, you sleeping with your boyfriend, you can wake up at night and do sex non-stop!"

Jeremiah and I both crack up. I add, "So whoever becomes my boyfriend, will be a very lucky boy." Jeremiah laughs in silence.

"Now I check your back. Ohhh...very very good," then he suddenly chuckles to himself, "you get married very soon."

"Moon flowers in your back. You very very lucky, pretty energy. You understand? Moon in the sky. You will be very pretty until the end of life."

And that concludes my 15-minute palm reading session with the famous Mr. Ketut Liyer.

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