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When
the
letters
are
finished
,
he
updates
me
on
his
life
over
the
last
few
years
.
Some
changes
have
occurred
.
Now
he
has
a
wife
,
for
instance
.
He
points
across
the
courtyard
at
a
heavyset
woman
who
’
s
been
standing
in
the
shadow
of
her
kitchen
door
,
glaring
at
me
like
she
’
s
not
sure
if
she
should
shoot
me
,
or
poison
me
first
and
then
shoot
me
.
Last
time
I
was
here
,
Ketut
had
sadly
shown
me
photographs
of
his
wife
who
had
recently
died
-
a
beautiful
old
Balinese
woman
who
seemed
bright
and
childlike
even
at
her
advanced
age
.
I
wave
across
the
courtyard
to
the
new
wife
,
who
backs
away
into
her
kitchen
.
"
Good
woman
,
"
Ketut
proclaims
toward
the
kitchen
shadows
.
"
Very
good
woman
.
"
He
goes
on
to
say
that
he
’
s
been
very
busy
with
his
Balinese
patients
,
always
a
lot
to
do
,
has
to
give
much
magic
for
new
babies
,
ceremonies
for
dead
people
,
healing
for
sick
people
,
ceremonies
for
marriage
.
Next
time
he
goes
to
Balinese
wedding
,
he
says
,
"
We
can
go
together
!
I
take
you
!
"
The
only
thing
is
,
he
doesn
’
t
have
very
many
Westerners
visiting
him
anymore
.
Nobody
comes
to
visit
Bali
since
the
terrorist
bombing
.
This
makes
him
"
feel
very
confusing
in
my
head
.
"
This
also
makes
him
feel
"
very
empty
in
my
bank
.
"
He
says
,
"
You
come
to
my
house
every
day
to
practice
English
with
me
now
?
"
I
nod
happily
and
he
says
,
"
I
will
teach
you
Balinese
meditation
,
OK
?
"
"
OK
,
"
I
say
.
"
I
think
three
months
enough
time
to
teach
you
Balinese
meditation
,
find
God
for
you
this
way
,
"
he
says
.
"
Maybe
four
months
.
You
like
Bali
?
"
"
I
love
Bali
.
"
"
You
get
married
in
Bali
?
"
"
Not
yet
.
"
"
I
think
maybe
soon
.
You
come
back
tomorrow
?
"
