Do you know what a Balinese kiss is?
It’s one of those things you only find out about if you have to.
My version of the story starts with the running engine of a motorbike.
I had rented it from a lady on the street for $40 a month.
The engine was already coughing under me when my Balinese landlord asks, “Do you know how to ride?” I wasn’t trying to have that lady take her bike back so I screamed, “yes” over my shoulder, revved the engine and wobbled my chariot around a corner where they wouldn’t see me.
It had been about 15 years since I touched a motorbike but in Ubud, it’s the only way to get around. Balinese kids as young as 8 can barely see over the handlebars, but they drive, so I was going to, too.
Some foreigners flat out told me to skip the bike and find another way.
FEAR COMES IN MANY FORMS- if it’s not your own voice it could be someone else’s.
You have to hear it, but you don’t have to listen. That’s where being hard headed has served me well.
After a few minutes, I was riding like a champ.
My questions is, where was fear when I tried to park the bike?
Why wasn’t it screaming, “Watch that searing hot tail pipe that’s about to kiss your ankle and leave you with a life tattoo!” One year later, I look down at my fading kiss and thank myself for ignoring fear. A life without scars is a life never lived.
Would you ride the bike or find another way?
For the daredevils, do you have an interesting scar on your body that tells a story? Where is it? What happened?