Nutshells

My personal narrative is becoming more complicated, such that it resists a nutshell sort of summary. Of course, there are few who can honestly explain their situation in a nutshell, and yet for a general, social sort of exchange, there is often a "Readers' Digest" version that may be rendered.

When, for instance, people would ask "How did you end up in Bali?", it was fairly simple to explain that I married an Indonesian woman in America and by-and-by we decided that it would be a positive change for us, each in our own ways, and also together, to relocate to Indonesia.

Now that we have separated, however, and she is living with another man, the neat nutshell story kind of crumbles. 

So, what am I doing here, after the original connection has been removed, the original intention--a life together--no longer applicable? 

I am not even sure that I myself know the answer. 

For one thing, I'm lazy. I don't like the idea of moving, whether the destination is a mile away or on the other side of the world. I prefer to set down roots and then sort of become a part of the tree, like a moss. And even if the tree is cut down, the moss continues to thrive. 

There are many things that I like about Indonesia. I like the people. They are simpler on the whole than Americans, more open, more friendly, more accommodating, more gracious. I like the feeling of community--a sort of interconnectedness, a mutuality that, in America, has fallen apart and become mutual suspicion, distrust, angst, cynicism. I like the fact that you can walk out anywhere at night and not have to fear being assaulted or robbed. I like the unspoken rule of common sense over inflexible ordinance. In general, I like the weather--and when it comes to complaining about the weather, I would rather complain about heat than about cold. I like that when you get stopped by a policeman, you can dicker and laugh and joke rather than put up your hands and hope he doesn't shoot you. Of course, they don't carry guns, anyway. I like that the beach is 15 minutes away from my house.  

The truth is, I don't know if I could fit in to America anymore. Considering a return there seems at present mostly a matter of facing various problems and discomforts. I think that at the very least I would need some haven to shelter in, someone to receive me and to care. And I don't see that that exists. 

I guess that between being alone in Bali and being alone in America,  I choose, for the time being, the former.