Peripheral Vision

As I started my motorcycle for my morning ride to work, something compelled me to take a different route. I complied, driving slowly and enjoying the new scenery. I stopped as I passed an elderly man. He was diligently preparing his water buffaloes to till his rice paddy, but looked up and smiled widely at the sight of a foreigner.

We had a conversation that I've become quite used to:

Him: "Halo mistah!! Dare mana? Australi?" (Hello mistah!! Where are you from? Australia?)

Me: "Dare California, pak" (I'm from California, sir.)

Him: America, Bagus!! Obama yah?" (America, good!! Obama yah?)

Me: "Yaaah!." (Yaaah!)

Him: "Mau kau mana?" (Where are you going?)

Me: "Pergi bekerja." (I'm going to work.)

Him: "Ooohhh, tinggal di sini? Berapa lama tinggal di Bali? Bagus berbicara Bahasa Indonesian ya? (Ooohhh, you stay here? How long you stay here? You speak good Indonesian 

yah?)

Me: "tidak bagus, hanya sedikit. Belajar. Tinggal di Bali dua tahun setangah, pak." (Not good, only little bit. I'm learning. I stay in Bali two and a half years, sir.)

Him: "Bagus yah?" (Good, yah?)

Me: "Yaaah!" (Yaaah!)

Still smiling broadly, he nodded and returned to his work. I watched quietly from the small dirt road as he finished hitching up his water buffaloes and began tilling. He slowly guided the buffaloes, traversing the paddy and grunting as if he was a buffalo himself. Each time he passed me, he glanced over and smiled. I smiled back.

I sat and watched him for 5-10 minutes, and wondered about his life. How many changes has he see over the past 50 years? I doubt this older man had ever thought about much else than taking care of his family and tending his rice paddy. I doubt he has ventured far or frequently from the small community he lives in, and he probably didn't meet a foreigner until the second half of his life.

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