It’s noon. Writing is going well. Suddenly there is noise and commotion outside my room and I hear the sound of splashing water and an American male voice hollering, “Are there any more buckets!?!” I open my door and sure enough! The roof not 10 yards away from me is smoking and I see glowing embers in the exposed beams. Every man, woman, and child in the immediate area is here, shouting excitedly, and a few actually have buckets and are accessing the little canal outside my room for water. They fling the water upward toward the embers and some of it lands on the fire. They are doing a good job of dousing the roof so the blaze won’t likely spread. Even if there was a fire engine in Ubud, (and there may be, I don’t know) getting it in here would be impossible. The house sits back off the street at least a block and the walled pathway is just wide enough for a motorbike. Transfixed, I watch, listen, and feel totally helpless to do anything else. After about 30 minutes everything seems to be under control. But the whole episode gives me pause. After briefly considering what I would do in case of fire, I realize it’s a lot like my brief quandary the other night.

I had been sitting for awhile focused on writing my nicely evolving chapter. Then I felt a little tingle on my behind. I scratched. Suddenly my left cheek was on fire, itching relentlessly! I remembered throwing a tube of Benedryl into my toiletries as I packed and I scrambled to locate it. Ah! There! Sweet relief! Checking the time I saw that it was late. I put away the computer and as I crawled under the lightweight duvet of my very comfortable bed I had a one of those “ah ha” moments. I had just been bitten by a bug of unknown origin. In Minnesota that would be an annoyance and nothing else. Here it could be a highly poisonous insect and I might be dead by morning. Considering my options I decided I was okay with that and fell immediately to sleep.

Fast forward to the fire. If I had time I would grab my bag containing money and passport. If I didn’t have time…I’m okay with that, too. Acceptance. What a powerful tool for inner peace.

3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Diane Struble
    Mar 27, 2012 @ 00:46:56

    Might I recommend that when you see a fire literally feet from your abode, that you get together your possessions in the event that you have to flee. Then you can watch the activity. Yeah, yeah. It’s the mother in me.



  2. Gary
    Mar 27, 2012 @ 07:22:17

    Sherry…. An engaging story that begs for a few more details:.
    Do you have any idea how this fire was started on the roof?
    “Male English Speaking Voice” – who was this..?
    Tell me about the Money in the Bag..?? – safe?
    It’s the Father in me.



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