What has two thumbs and jet lag? This guy.
I went to Bali, Indonesia last week. Who flies to the other side of the earth for a week? The dude with two thumbs and jet lag.
Thirteen days ago I was having dinner with a friend in Atlanta. He started asking me questions about the restaurant business because he sold his company and is thinking about, well, the restaurant business.
As we sipped on spicy margs, he showed me a picture of a quaint beach bar he found in Mexico.
“We should go to Bali sometime so I can show you some of the restaurants over there. You would love them,” I said looking at the image of the Mexican restaurant.
“How about this weekend,” he replied.
WTF?
Bali is a small island in Indonesia 10,290 miles away as the crow flies. I don’t think a crow could fly that far but I don’t know shit about crows.
“Yes,” I replied thinking it would be impossible.
The next morning I woke up to three emails:
One from Qatar Airlines with my roundtrip flight to Bali
One three-day pass to Bali Bloom Festival
Accommodations at a resort in Bali
Jesus Christ. He was serious.
Twenty-four hours later we boarded a flight in Atlanta and arrived in Bali on Friday. After dropping our bags at the nicest resort I have ever seen, we headed to the festival.
500 people…on the beach. There were multiple stages, chicks in thongs, and dudes with man buns. It was a mini version of Burning Man with perfect beach weather instead of dust storms. I forced down tequila to stay awake after spending 24.5 hours on planes over two days in a seat 18 inches wide.
After the weekend festival, I took my friend to Ubud, in the center of Bali, to check out some restaurants. He booked an Airbnb the size of Post Apartments. The damn thing had seven outdoor showers. I took seven outdoor showers a day.
On the first day in Ubud, I took him to a sound bath at the Pyramids of Chi. This wacky place lays you down on a small water bed while playing gongs, a didgeridoo, and other odd sounds through speakers mounted under the waterbed thing. It was like snorkeling on acid. Very healing, so they say.
After two days in Ubud, we headed to my favorite place on earth, Canggu, a small surfing town on the coast where digital nomads go to post Instagram stories about how they are digital nomads and moved to Bali and love their life and are better than you.
We rented scooters, got massages, ate sushi, and had a small party in the pool that came with the room. We talked about business, relationships, adventure, and life. It was an extended whiteboard session in paradise.
But the thing is, I can’t stop thinking about three people I met while bouncing around the island and what I learned from them.
Three people and the secret to happiness?
Juan
Juan was our driver for the first few days. He has to be the happiest dude on the island. Born in Bali, he is 30 years old, married, and has a one-year-old son. He wore a baseball cap and cool, fake sunglasses.
“How was it here during the pandemic,” I asked as he drove us to the festival. Bali relies on tourism for money.
“Oh, very hard. I ran out of rice and started starving,” he said with a smile.
Damn.
“Wow. I am sorry about that. Now you are driving again so that is good, right?”
“I try to get work driving but I am waiting on a call to see if they give me a job working on a cruise ship again.”
“Is that fun?” I asked thinking about waterslides and buffet food.
He told me he doesn’t like to work on cruise ships because it’s a six-month contract and he works 13 hours a day with no days off. He gets paid $750 a month.
Damn.
“Maybe they let me be waiter this time on the cruise,” he said smiling hoping for a few more dollars a month.
Tri
On the third day of our trip, we landed at a little restaurant in Ubud. There weren’t many customers. After the meal, I asked the young waitress if she was born in Bali. She said yes. I asked if she lives close to the restaurant.
“I live 45 minutes from here by motorbike,” she replied with a huge smile showcasing enormous teeth jetting out of her mouth. Poor girl, I thought. She just kept smiling.
She thanked us as we settled the bill. I counted how many times she thanked us as we left the restaurant.
21 times.
Made
Made worked at the hotel where we stayed in Canggu. He walked me to the room when we arrived. He was 18 or 19 years old. I asked him if he is from Bali.
“Yes,” he smiled.
“Well I will tell you this…the Balinese people are so much better than Americans. Everyone is so nice and happy,” I said as we walked along.
“Why, because we smile so much?” He said smiling. “Everyone always says we smile so much.”
Westerners fly thousands of miles to get healed and find happiness in Bali. They pay for reiki sessions, chakra balancing yoga, bizarre sound bath experiences, and other bullshit modalities that promise happiness and healing.
What they don’t realize is that the secret is right in front of them.
The people.
The Balinese people give thanks hundreds of times a day. From the small offerings they place in their doorways for the Gods and animals to verbal appreciation to each other and strangers like me. They also smile profusely.
You will never be able to out thank or out smile a Balinese.
They don’t do reiki or three yoga classes a day. They don’t do sound baths. They don’t post how amazing they are on Instagram. They aren’t vegans with peanut allergies.
They smile and give thanks.
Sometimes in life, the answers are right in front of us if we open our eyes.
If you are like me, you might not say thank you enough and forget to smile. Maybe it is time for a change.
Trey
Vegans are the worst. Balinese culture is beautiful, and Canggu is pretty damn great. 10/10 location to meet interesting people.
“ After two days in Ubud, we headed to my favorite place on earth, Canggu, a small surfing town on the coast where digital nomads go to post Instagram stories about how they are digital nomads and moved to Bali and love their life and are better than you.”….So I guess I know where I’m staying in Bali.