As noted in my last post here, during
the late months of one of my daughter's pregnancy, we used to go out
for daily walks to prepare her for giving birth. I enjoyed having
someone to accompany on my walks around the city and it was a new
experience for Rebecca (not being one to go out walking if there was
a working motorbike nearby). With Rebecca away in Denpasar, I've
started taking my morning walks with my new partner – Zoey, my
granddaughter.
Early morning from 6:30 on is the
preferred time for adults around the island to walk their infants and
toddlers. Sometimes, it's a grandparent, other times a parent or
older sibling, and lacking those an interested neighbor will take a
small child out for a walk. Indonesia is one of those “it takes a
village to raise a child” places. The older kids wander the kampung
playing with friends, watching adults work on fishing boats or
construction projects or do duty babysitting younger siblings.
There's always adults around to guide children when they get into
something dangerous (like jumping off the pier). But, for right now,
I'm Zoey's transport, guide into life in the kampung and live-in
English teacher.
I pop Zoey in her little front carrier,
put a cap on her head to protect her from the morning sun and we're
ready to go. We wander east through the kampung towards the harbor.
Adults and most children already know Zoey and greet her as we pass.
There's always the comments about Pak Guru (me) speaking to Zoey in
English and about how much I'm spoiling her (a good thing here until
kids get older). Small children shout out “What's her name?” I
tell them her name is Zoey, and they repeat it over and over, “Zoey,
Zoey, Zoey.” Zoey doesn't care – she hasn't figured out what her
name is yet, apparently because she hasn't had the right ceremony for
that sort of thing.
Zoey stares at the tall trees along the
seawall fascinated by the large green leaves. We head out behind the
Hindu temple and come out into the harbor area. There's a small
merry-go-round and some miniature electric cars for kids to play on
along with sellers of balloons and cheap Chinese-made toys. We pass
the Chinese temple with it's bright red and white colors and closely
manicured grass glistening in the morning sun. I say hello to my
friend who's chatting inside. We come out at the bridge, pass the
policemen directly morning traffic and head along the street past the
still-closed building supply shops and then further on past the
automobile parts shops and furniture stores. I wave hello to the lady
who owns the large bicycle shop on the corner and we're back in the
kampung. We wander over to my brother-in-law's house and chat until
Zoey has had enough with not moving and starts to fuss. As soon as we
get on the move again, she laughs. It's clear who is in control on
our walks.
Back past her grandmother's shop who
checks to see if Zoey is asleep. We wander west along the small
street that skirts the seawall. Old friends and acquaintances say
hello and come up to comment on Zoey's chubby cheeks barely holding
themselves back from pinching them as everyone loves to do here.
They've been warned off this by my wife who's told them that I'm
overprotective so only look and don't touch. We stop at the small
bridge for a few minutes and watch the men fishing and then head over
the Hindu cemetery to look at the goats who are out every morning
scavenging through the rubbish that is washed up on the beach. The
sun's climbing, I'm hot and Zoey is hungry. Time to head back home.
Back at the house, Zoey and I go up to
the third floor, where I turn on the fan, make a bottle and tune in
the morning baseball game on Fox Sports. I lie down besides Zoey and
we relax watching the game. It's not long before we're both asleep
after another morning's adventure.
