Winds of Change

The gentle breeze is so light that I stop to see if it is truly the wind, gentle as a sigh, or is it my imagination wishing for any relief from the oppressive heat, playing tricks on me. Laying here on the wooden slatted lounge by the pool I am content that I chose to brave the hill on the way to the pool, even though I’m not feeling very well. I’m in search of a respite from the stuffiness I feel in the flat today. I rested in the air conditioning in my room, but fear that I will just become as much a prisoner to the refuge of this bedroom as my room at home. No. Not wanting to lose the day, I head to the pool where after braving the hill I must walk on the way, I’ll find relief in the cool still water.

Like a sapling in the early spring, I am swaying under the winds of all the changes – outward and inward – happening to me here. Today as I pause to just feel the breeze, it’s subtle relief is almost intoxicating. I allow my mind to wander freely, to ruminate and relish all that’s been blowing my way. I did come here with an idea of what I would want to see and do in order to have no regrets, come time to leave, of an opportunity squandered. Yet so much more has been given to me. Like a gossamer gust, barely sensed, yet with the impact of a monsoon, this place and the people I’ve met have changed me deeply forever.

People come and go in our lives. How does it go, some for a moment and some to stay? I have been fortunate to have a somewhat interesting life. I’ve had the privilege of knowing all types of people from diverse cultures and walks of life.  Still with all my experiences, I was underneath it all, the super shy little girl who was believed to be handicapped, because I didn’t talk much, until I read a book to my mother at 3. It was the day I was moving into my dorm as a freshman at Washington University in St Louis that I consciously decided I could change and and not be quite so shy and introverted. A really handsome boy asked if he could help me and instead of saying no, thank you very much, I accepted his help. Tom became one of my good friends in the dorm. In spite of my outward chatty persona, underneath I was always self-conscious and second guessing myself.

Some magic is happening to me with this introspective time I’m spending in this land far from home. I’m starting to be okay with who I am flaws and all. I’m comfortable sitting at the pool in a bikini I have no business wearing, but I’m a child of the sun worshipping generation and need the least amount of ‘tan lines’ as possible. (I didn’t say that I’m not vain!) I feel comfortable with the people. I’ve noticed that I can have casual ‘pool conversation’ and not worry for the next two hours how stupid I must have sounded!

In another social situation at a dinner in a Kampung (village) the other night (the name of which I’m ashamed to say I’ve already forgotten) I paused to survey the group sitting, and others milling about. The smiles, the laughter, the food, and yes the booze, the karaoke...all ingredients to an extraordinary evening. The main ingredient was the company. We had no common language except for some broken English and my Malaysian friend who acted as interpreter, trying to keep up with all the conversations coming my way. Although some of the guests spoke a few words in English, being the only westerner in the whole kampung, I needed to get on with it using the very few words I know in Bahasa Malayu. I was completely immersed and I loved it! I dove in with my Italian hands flying, in gestures that interpreted sufficiently enough, to be a part of the festivities. When all else fails, let the Italian hands fly! Remarkably, I not only got on, but I felt more comfortable in this crowd than I do in some of people I know, and who speak my language. Maybe language isn’t always just verbal. Maybe it’s that spirit thing again. Maybe you want to call it a vibe. Whatever it is, it seems that it’s a superior form of communication that’s less prone to misinterpretation. And the Italian hand’s help too.

There’s been no situation here that’s shaken me (except when I first started calling for a cab. I had no idea what the dispatchers were saying). I even chat comfortably with the cabbies and have collected some cell numbers so I can call directly and not deal with the dispatcher. Some people I’ve met entered my life like a gale force and some like a breeze touching me gently enough to stir my soul. Corny, I know, but oh so true.