Unquenched (4 page)

The morning came, the sun was shining, and we had breakfast in the
paradise outdoors.  Our waiter was a delight as I appreciated his face which
was beautiful, interesting and foreign.  His eyes were slightly angled and his
face a natural tan, his smile both white and contagious.  I was intrigued by
the people of Indonesia.  Their culture was diverse and their demeanor so
pleasant, it was easy to want to learn more.

Our bags were packed and our driver was waiting so we could head
to the other side of Bali.  We stopped at reception to check out of the hotel
and the next thing I knew it, Jordan was on the phone.  I had almost
forgotten.  In some ways I wish I had, but strangely enough he hadn't.  But
that was his style.  He was complete and even relentless when it came to
meeting his goals.  And I respected him for it.  His need to obtain their
telephone numbers had nothing to do with doing it for me.  Like his description
of his present job, or his need to test and re-test his equipment, or even the
way that he pursued me, it was all fast, efficient, and with results.  So, he tried
to track down the men we had met and he still hoped that the scuba company
would give us a lead.  The phones were still troubled as I watched him call
back more than a couple of times.  Something he said confused me to no end, but
let me know that he had sensed something after all. 

He looked at me and then jokingly said, "I hope this guy is
worth it to you because this phone call is going to cost us a pretty penny." 

I knew he had been alluding to Tristan.  I was stunned and
speechless but chuckled nonetheless, trying to make light of the whole crazy
situation.  I wondered why he was doing it if he was really doing it for me.  I
had to believe he was kidding, or somehow still denying the truth.  Otherwise,
none of it would have made sense.

Jordan struggled on the phone for twenty minutes more, his efforts
still fruitless and empty.  He had tried to get the last names of our newfound
friends and where they were actually staying.  We knew in the States that the
information would have been confidential, but Bali was friendlier and more carefree. 
The man on the phone explained to Jordan that he had finally found their
names.  But he also explained that when they had registered for the dive, they
had only given their first names.  He also said that between the three of them,
there were only two hotels listed.  The problem was, they didn't know who was
staying where.  So Jordan jotted down the names of the hotels, and although he
appeared somewhat defeated, he said that we wouldn't give up.  We got in the car,
drove towards the mountains and I found myself feeling obsessed.  The more
difficult it became, the more I needed to find him, yet wanted to let it go all
the same.  And at that moment, suddenly, I wasn't sure which I wanted more.

We arrived in Ubud three hours later with still enough time to
enjoy a full day.  The streets were alive with shops galore, as we walked
through every one of them buying gifts and more.  We would be arriving home
just in time for the December holidays and it was a wonderful opportunity to
buy some unique gifts.  Bali was well known for its artistic animal masks.  So
we bought some masks and batik clothing, wooden dolls, silver jewelry,
Indonesian art, not to mention some spicy food which we sent home by mail.

The sun had set by the time we were done and we were both
thoroughly exhausted.  We went back to the room, collapsed on the bed and
talked about the next day's plans.  We planned to go white water rafting in a
very scenic area through the rice terracing.  Although in Bali the terracing
surrounded us, it was a spectacular sight that intrigued me to no end.  The
beautifully manicured levels of greenery appeared infinite, as they curved
around the hills with charm.  The rafting itself was supposed to be a unique
experience and I really hoped that it would be.

I didn't need to remind him.  Jordan was on the phone again with
the operator this time, only minutes after we confirmed our trip to go
rafting.  I heard him request the telephone numbers of the hotels of our
newfound friends.  He was immediately successful as he had already gotten both
of the numbers in hand.  I was trembling as I listened, thinking about all that
we had done to get in touch with them so far.  It had felt like a lifetime
since we had last seen them, but I knew in reality, it had only been a day.

Jordan dialed again.  He seemed to have everything under control,
so I just watched, in misery.  If only we had exchanged numbers in the van, the
process would not have been so painful, so remorseful.  But it was.  Jordan was
speaking to someone.  It must have been the concierge.  The doorman.  The
owner.  Whoever.  We didn't even know where we were calling.   I listened as he
spoke.

"Excuse me.  Do you have anyone staying with you by the first
name of Tristan?" I heard him ask.

I found it ironic that out of the three men, he had chosen Tristan's
name.  But then again, Tristan was the one who was coming to New York so it
made sense to contact him.  I also knew, that Jordan knew, that Tristan was the
only one I had befriended.  The truth was, I knew that Jordan really liked him
too.

"No, I'm sorry, we do not have anyone here by that
name", the voice on the other end replied.

"Do you by chance have a John or Tomas?" Jordan decided
to try.

"We did this morning, we had a John, but he checked out
several hours ago.  Can I help you with anything else?" the man asked.

"No, but thank you for your help," Jordan replied.  I
started to panic.

What if we called the next place and we found out that Tristan had
also checked out.  What if it wasn't as small of a place as that place had
obviously been and they didn't know guests by their first names.  But Jordan
already had the phone in his hand and was dialing once again.

"Yes, I'm wondering if you have a guest by the name of Tristan
staying with you," he asked.

The woman on the other end answered, "I no see anyone
registered here with name like that, what he look like?"

How strange this all was.  The intimacy and catering that took
place between strangers in this country.  It was nothing less than wonderful
. 
It would never happen in New York
, I kept thinking.  I really liked Bali. 
I would have to find a reason to come back.  Yes, one day I would make it my
business to come back.  Jordan gave the woman a brief description of our new
friend.  From the look on his face, it appeared that there was no one there
that resembled Tristan.  She must have asked again because Jordan reiterated
what he had just said.

"Oh," she said.  "I maybe know who you talking
about.  He stay here with other two women," she continued in her broken
English.

Jordan regurgitated the information to me as they continued the
conversation.  It wasn't until then that I remembered.  Tristan briefly
mentioned that he was traveling with his ex-girlfriend who had become just a
really good friend.  If my memory served me, I thought her name was Courtney. 
She wasn't a diver so she had gone to the beach the day that we had all met. 
It struck me as odd that he was traveling with his ex, but he was so
non-chalant about it, that for the moment, I had been somewhat convinced.  We
hadn't spent a lot of time talking about her but there was never any mention of
anyone else.  Jordan was concluding his conversation, and something he said to
the woman on the phone seemed to convince her that Tristan was definitely
staying there, and that he was the one with two women.  She said he must have
been registered under one of the girls' family names.  For that matter, it
could have been his, we still didn't know his name.  Well, it was going to be a
shot in the dark.  She didn't know his name, there were two girls with him, and
not only one, as we had thought.  But there was more.  Apparently, this
threesome had gone away for two days but were coming back to stay with her
again.  She said she knew which room they were in and she would leave a message
that we called at the desk.  She asked where we could be reached, and took our
number as she informed us that they did not have a phone in their room.  The
timing was unfortunate because we were only going to be in Ubud for two more
days and I hoped that they wouldn't miss us.  From there, we were going to Nusa
Dua which ironically was where they were supposed to be.  The international
airport was in Nusa Dua which is why people traveling usually made it their
last stop.  We planned to spend only two days there, and then fly back to
Singapore for a day.  So we gave her our number and I prayed once again.

We awoke very early the following day, excited for the adventure
that awaited us.  Neither Jordan nor I had been rafting in years, but we knew
that the challenge would be fun.  A van picked us up at 8 a.m., this time with
no one else in it.  We arrived at the rafting base where there were about
twenty-five rafts going out that day.  There were a lot of people from all over
the world and it was clear that the activity had been very well promoted.  It
was cloudy outside but the rain looked like it was going to hold out, at least
until the end of the day.

We boarded the raft with eight other people and the guide gave us
the rundown on the rules.  He explained that the rapids would vary at different
points and the level of difficulty would change.  The river began to move us
gently downstream, and the greenery that surrounded us was breathtaking.  The
terracing enveloped us and the steep levels continued and literally appeared
not to end.  The rapids gradually quickened and the excitement began.  The
water splashed all around us as we bounced from side to side.  As I looked up
and took it all in, I reveled at the geography in front of me.  It was so
specific to Southeast Asia.  I had seen movies from the time I was a child but
I never believed I would see it in person.  But finally, at that moment, I had
been sitting in the middle of it.  Going through it and experiencing the life
that lived it.

There were people, Indonesian people, wading nude on the banks of
the river.  They were shy and hid themselves as we drifted quickly by.  This
water for them was their main source of survival.  They bathed in it, they
washed their clothes in it, and they even drank from it.  Their homes or huts
were built on levels and into the rice terracing itself.  When it rained a lot,
they experienced mud slides and that was the reason their homes were so
simple.  They anticipated having to rebuild them again and again, utilizing the
resources of the land.  There was a beauty about the simplicity of it all.  It
was natural.  When I thought about my life at home in New York, I felt displaced. 
In some ways, like an intruder to the world around me.  Suddenly life had a
whole new twist to it.  Everything I had felt over the past two weeks seemed to
move me.  It was all so powerful.

The next morning we awoke to blue sky and sun, a good day for
traveling to Nusa Dua.  Our bags were packed and we went for breakfast
outdoors, under the hut of the hotel restaurant.  Up until then, I had managed
to suppress my worries, my excitement, my fears.  The guilt I was feeling still
weighed on me heavily, and would continue to even if we never found him.  But
now the remote thought of that possibly happening, was even heavier than the
weight of what I had started.  My head was spinning with mixed emotions and I
felt completely out of control.  My thoughts began to run rampant.  I started
to wonder if we had given up too soon.  We had somehow trusted fate or had
faith in the woman on the phone that Tristan was staying with her.  What if it
wasn't him?  What if it was but he didn't get the message?  What if he phoned
us but missed us because of timing?  Would we try him again?  Funny how Jordan
never even asked if John or Tomas were staying there.  I suddenly wanted to try
more.  I wasn't even sure how.  We had probably exhausted all of our options
with the few attempts we had made.  So I feared.  The chances of finding him
there had to be easier than searching Germany.  I wouldn't have even known
where to begin.  But I knew that I would if I had to.

When the waiter came to the table, I thought he had come to take
our order.  But he hadn't.  He only asked Jordan for his room number and then
told him that he had a phone call.  He led him to the front desk as my
adrenaline started to rush.  I waited by the table not wanting to appear too
eager.  Who else could it be on the phone, I thought.  We didn't know anyone else
in Indonesia.  It was fate.  I would see him just one more time, long enough to
make sure I could see him again.  I would give him my number and hopefully, I
would see him in New York.

But I was wrong.  We had known someone else.  Amelia.  How could I
have forgotten?  She had been our guide for several days on Bali.  She had
leant me clothing to wear inside the temples.  The Balinese were traditional
and kept strict regulations with regard to their Buddhist religion.  I had
borrowed a sarong which I wore as a skirt, as well as a swarka, a special long
sleeved lace shirt.  These articles of clothing covered my arms and knees which
was essential to being accepted on Bali.  It was important not to be considered
just a visitor and to adapt to the culture and ways.  We had called her to
arrange a time to return the clothing before we left Ubud.  I was almost sorry
that she had returned the call.

The waiter brought our food and we discussed the next few days of
our trip and what there was in store.  The waiter returned again, this time
with the check and to tell Jordan that he had another call.  I didn't get my
hopes up.  I didn't let myself.  I couldn't bare the disappointment again.  But
this time I didn't have to wait.  Jordan returned to the table in a matter of
minutes with a smile on his face, and I knew.  Tristan had returned our call.