Mau Ke Mana?

 I try to take a walk every evening if possible. The only thing that stops me really is if it is raining or if there is a dog lying in front of the doorway, which would require me to step over the dog, thus bothering the poor critter, or leave the dog there and the door open while I go for my walk, which might not be a good idea, although that's actually more of a paranoid suspicion than a reality based one, as never in ten years has my house been bothered, whether open or closed, and also of course, in this case anyway, there's a dog in front of the door. 

I don't walk very far or for very long, although it always seems long enough because of my slowness of pace, even with my cane. Moreover, the heat of this time of year makes the trek seem longer, as it is still around 85 degrees at 7 pm and humid as heck.

As I walk up the street tonight, Ayu, the young woman who works at the corner warung, is coming the other direction, trailed by a little boy who is happily skipping. Ayu is carrying a tray of offerings and incense which she will set before various houses along the way. She greets me with a big white smile, "Mau ke mana, Pak?" 

They always say mau ke mana. Or if you're returning, they say Dari mana. 

Next, I am hailed by a man with three teeth who is sitting on a wall enjoying a smoke after a long day of labor on a property that seems forever under construction. "Mau ke mana?" he says. Of course. 

Ayu passes me (already) on her way back with her now empty tray and the still skipping boy. Another smile. She is, I think, about 19 years old. 

As I pass the warung, I run into Dency. Dency is an old friend of Louis' and has a rental property here and a little grocery store next to the warung. We chat for a minute and she tells me of a coffee shop near Pantai Matahari Terbit--not at all far from here, just after you cross the road at the KFC. It sounds like a place I'd like check out, as she says the chairs are cozy and you can sit and read there. 

Oh, and she also asked 'Mau ke mana?'. 

Now comes the thinnest stretch of our little road, a stretch that's a bit iffy for a wobbly guy like me, especially if a car comes along, requiring one to step off the road and onto a narrow strip of grass between the road on one side and a canal on the other. Here, I come upon an older woman (albeit not as old as I) who greets me with Selamat petang. Good evening, in Indonesian. 

"Rahajeng petang," I respond, which impresses her to no end, as I have used Balinese in reply. Lol. 

As I turn back toward home, an anonymous dog shows up at my side and decides to accompany me along the way; and having accomplished this mission, leaves me at the gate and makes his merry way back to wherever he came from. 

So that's my walk, not very far and not very long, but with always something to see and to say.