We've
taken a certain amount of pride in backpacking our way around India for two
months and now SE Asia for a total of four months with our 7 kg packs on our
backs. So just when we thought we
were a wee bit of hot stuff, enter Elizabeth from Bonn, Germany.
It's
a totally chance meeting in the warung just a quick walk from our homestay. Although the sweet owner, Sri,
overcooks her fish, we have gone back a few times out of . . . loyalty or
something I can't identify.
Something about another one of those humblingly sweet Balinese we feel
almost guilty about not patronizing! (and no amount of coaxing and pleading on
Tim's part can persuade her to take the fish out of the pan/off the grill
sooner!)
Back
to Elizabeth. One night at Sri's,
we see a single older lady at the next table (there are only 4 tables) and we
exchange hellos, talk a bit about food and her love of mango smoothies which
she pours over her leftover dinner rice (we think it's a bit weird). Next night, there she is again, and we
invite her to join us.
Turns
out she's 85 years old, born in 1930, and has a horrifyingly vivid memory of
watching German Jews being marched through the streets of her city. It is embarrassing and painful . . . she's widowed 10 years and apparently glad to see the last of old
hubby ('a gambler and a drunk to whom I had to pay support for years!') Since his demise, she's traveled solo for
four months every winter ('it's too cold to stay in Germany!') and she makes us
look like backpacking wannabes!
She's been to India multiple times and absolutely loves it. ('I think I
know it better than I know Germany.')
From here, she's on her way to the Phillipines for a month with old
friends from Bonn.
Another
night's dinner and we're practically old friends. She invites us to come and stay with her in Bonn (she has a
14-room house), and to arrive by the last Saturday in September when she hosts
a 'big party' for all her friends.
'You can help me with the party.'
This
is her last night in Amed, and she's very nostalgic. She's been coming here every night for dinner for two weeks
(her homestay is a km away), thanks to taxi service on Sri's brother's
scooter. She's an avid hiker but these roads at
night, even with a flashlight, are dangerous. And Elizabeth is no shrinking violet. Somehow we get on the subject of
cockfights in Bali, and she whips out her iPhone and proceeds to play a video
of a cockfight she attended!! 'Awful'
she says as she hits 'replay'.
She
insists we join her in a farewell drink - an Arack Attack.
Silly
us, we think it's a benign, mildly alcoholic thing and want to be
sociable. One of these, split
three ways, is a mind-bender. This
is the local hootch, poteen, moonshine, jakeleg that Tim swears is 100 proof. My mouth and brain are immobilized - I am incapable of speech. Arack is made from
some sort of distilled palm leaves and to make it palatable, is sweetened with
honey and lemon. No doubt it would
otherwise take the enamel off your teeth and permanently anesthetize your
tongue.
Our new friend, Elizabeth . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment