Lost and Found

by Barbara Pinto (United States of America)

A leap into the unknown Portugal

I was lost. Deep down, I was lost. Even though I had been traveling solo for the past three months and was becoming quite the expert in geo location apps and maps, my heart had no north and my mood was south. All I could hear was my mom’s lifelong advise: “ When in low times, react.” So, I did. Mid november of 2011, I woke up in Bali (Indonesia) and decided to run to a travel agent’s shop and get a ticket to Lombok. I knew nothing about the island. I had just seen a picture and kept hearing the murmur of my mom’s advise. REACT. I chose to go in the public ferry. There is only 40 km separating Bali and Lombok, but the trip took 4 hours. I read, enjoyed the wind on my face and was looking for someone to start a conversation with, but there were only locals around me who spoke no other language but their own. Unfortunately, I didn't know Sasak nor Bahasa. Our communication was, hence, limited to smiles and nods. Not a problem. Sometimes, It’s actually nice to enjoy one’s silence and take the observer’s seat. I finally arrive to Kuta, Lombok. I had no place to stay. The only thing I had was a little piece of paper with the name of a guest house, supposedly in the center of town. Being so close to Bali, I thought I was going to find streets full of little hotels and hostels, bars and restaurants, local shops and massage parlours. I was wrong. Lombok was different. Barely a tourist, barely a bar. I jumped in a scooter driven by a local and asked him to take me to the guest house. He did. I paid him cash. Once there, I stepped in, but to my surprise there was noone there. I screamed:”Hi?” “Anybody there?”. I clapped my hands. Nothing. It was 4 pm, the sun was starting to go down and still… not sure if I had a room in the house. Oh well… I gave myself a deadline. I will wait half an hour, if no one comes, I will start to worry. I relaxed and started to take in the place that felt so distant from anything in the west. The roads were unfinished, women carried food in their heads, almost everyone was barefoot and the pace was slow. I started to give in. Some scientists say that we are all influenced by the hypnotic waves of the place we are in. When I realised I was taking off my sneakers to feel the ground and was looking at some objects for several seconds without flinching, in meditative state, I started believing in every bit of that theory. One hunded per cent! Anyway, the half an hour went by. Still no one. I began to look around to see what my next step would be and to my surprise a long legged guy parks his scooter right in front of the guest house and comes in. He looks at me and says: “ Hi! You seem lost.” To which I reply:” I am, actually.” I still haven’t booked a room and needed to know if I could stay here.” “I can call the owner now.” “ Thank you.” … Yes! I scored one of the four rooms for $4 a night. Cold shower, simple, but that was all I needed. Then, the scooter guy, shyly asks: “ Would you like to come with me a see the sunset? I know a great spot.” Guided by my intutition, I accepted and off we went. Dinner followed, in a local restaurant where cuttlery was an unseen accessory. We drove the food to our mouths with our hands and for some reason I felt so free. Simplicity seems to be the highest quality of things and this island was proving it to me every step of the way. After some cocounut rice and some great laughs we went back to the guesthouse, each going to their respective bedroom. “Goodnight. It was so much fun!” “Indeed”. The next day I woke up felling found. The scooter guy and I traveled the island. We shared stories and indulged in new adventures for 3 consecutive days. We snorkled, we swam, we talked. Then we had to leave. 5 years later, the scooter guy, unexpectedly knocked on my door in LA:”I don’t want to travel without you anymore.” He had just landed from Germany, his native country and his name is Martin. I immediately thought of my mom and thanked her silently for the best advise, ever.