Dengue Fever is a mosquito-borne illness that is just part of life in tropical areas. It causes fever, headaches, nausea, body aches, and sometimes a rash. It wears you down. You're mildly and uncomfortably sick for 10-14 days, unless you get a bad, bleed-from-all-orifices strain of dengue, where you might not make it 14 days (and if you do, you can have residual physical and psychiatric backlash for up to two years). Yay!
Oh yeah, the best part: there is NO CURE. You just drink water and take it easy. If you start bleeding from the mouth, you go to the hospital and they hydrate you intravenously.
I have a fair amount of bites, but I think the bugs in Bali actually try to consume Ian. One day he wakes up sore with stomach cramps and a fever. Oh no. We take it easy.
The next day is the same. And the day after. I think it's dengue. Ian's in denial.
One of the main complications with dengue is that you start to feel better before it gets worse. You don't actually know if you have hemorrhagic dengue until the fourth or fifth day of feeling sick. If you push it in the first four days, your chances of getting deadly sick increase exponentially.
So Ian is a prisoner in his own body. He tries to tell me he's fine, perhaps it's just a cold, and begs to go out and do things. The few times I take him to dinner he sweats through his shirt.
Day five and day six of him feeling ill, he doesn't actually feel ill anymore. This is textbook dengue fever. You're temperature will drop, you'll feel fine, but the disease is biphasic and the second half is around the corner.
So while Ian lay dying, I do the good girlfriend thing and give him space and get my vagina steamed.
I haven't read the book or seen the movie, but the author of Eat, Pray, Love wrote one of her sections about being in Ubud. (We hear time after time about a factual misstep in the movie, where Julia Roberts bikes from Ubud to the beach-- this is not possible.) I don't think she intended on ruining Ubud for years to come, but...
The "Eat, Pray, BUS" tours around town. Boo.
And so Ubud is full of 30, 40 & 50 year old divorcee's who've come to find themselves again. I'm not particularly mad at it (except when I see companies ran by expats exploiting Balinese heritage and resources). I get that it's exotic and cheap, and people are comforted by spiritual healings. A lot of shops seem to be gimmicks targeting the vulnerable crowd. You can buy as many crystals here as you can in Sedona, Arizona.
Yoga classes are abundant, and if you're looking to do yoga in Ubud you have many options. The most well known yoga spot is the Yoga Barn:
The Yoga Barn is an absolutely gorgeous set of indoor/outdoor venues. They offer many classes a day, ranging from breathing-focused yoga to Pilates to gong meditations. They also do intensive trainings where you can get certified to be a yoga teacher. In a few weeks they will host the "Bali Spirit Festival", where teachers and gurus from all over the world come to teach and guru.
The classes are American-priced. The participants are tourists, travelers and hardcore yogis.
I buy 5 classes for 475,000RP ($36). Each class is one and a half hours long, and you need to be there 15 minutes prior to register. Dengue could last Ian a while, and no one wants to be watched while having the poops, so this gets me out of the house at least a few hours a day.
My first class is an "Intro to Yoga" class, because I'm a noob. Enter Carlos, this beautiful Brazilian super-human with ombre dreads and a big, bright smile.
There are twenty of us in class, and most of the participants are timid white girls like me; then there's one guy with short-shorts and a crop top with a Lincoln beard, a British couple in their fifties to my left, and two Russians in front (one is translating everything Carlos says to the other in the softest Russian voice I've ever heard.. though still way too loud). Carlos asks if any of us have done yoga before and two arms are half-raised.
Carlos spends the first twenty minutes discussing why we do yoga and the benefits of yoga. It rained right before class, and now the sun was out so it was 1,000% humid. His speech kind of drags on. "Any questions?" I raise my hand. "Can we turn on the fans?" He holds my gaze and walks over to the side of the room to turn the switch. Was I just reprimanded? It just got hotter in here.
We start with some breathing exercises. Carlos says things like "OK, everyone breathe in and count to four." Then he waits a second and says "OK, go. Now we inhale... one, two...." His rhythm and instructions were off, and everyone was out of breath. I start to think I don't like Carlos until he walks by me, leans down and whispers "Hey." Swoon.
He teaches us a few poses and then we lay on our backs. I look at the husband to the right of me and he has a total boner. Poor guy. We're on our backs for 20 minutes. No new instructions, we're just laying. I watch some geckos on the skylight catch bugs. And... class is over.
Intro to Yoga is not really a yoga class.
The next class I sign up for is Capoeira. The description for the class reads: "Dance: Capoeira is a perfect practice mixture of strength and flexibility, rhythm and agility. It is a dynamic art form of flowing in balance through movements."
I'm thinking it's a dance-aerobics class, and I've been known to KILL IT at Jazzercize. Turns out it was a little harder than jazz.
We learn ways to fall gracefully and avoid being hit. Our teacher, Noko, has us run in a circle while he runs against us and bats at us with a yoga mat. We're supposed to jump over or fall under the mat as gracefully as we can. Some guys can literally do flips and cartwheels to avoid the mat. I am not some guys.
Class got really hard really fast. Capoeira is basically a game of martial arts where you pretend you're going to hurt someone but avoid contact at the last second. We had to spar with one another, kicking over each other's heads and flipping out of the way. The class started with 11 people, and two dropped out before it was over. It was really tough.
Noko ends the class by telling us there's a big Capoeira meet the following day, where players from around the island will come and spar.
The next day there is a beginning acro-yoga class. Ian and I have talked about wanting to try this, but I'm worried he's still sick. He begs me to go, and says if the tables were turned he'd let me go. Ian takes his temperature and it's normal, so we go. (I later found out he had put the thermometer on the tips of his lips, and totally duped me to go to class... reason 6,894,579 I'd make a terrible mother.)
We get to the Yoga Barn in time to see the Capoeria fight. Hippies and yogis are everywhere. This is me and Ian sparing:
Look at all these unvaccinated kids!
Acro-yoga is a blast. Carlos is the teacher again. He gives very little instruction and sits in a corner while we balance on each other. A couple of people eat it, but Ian and I are surprisingly great. I could even base Ian for a hot second!
We go home and Ian feels ill again. Repeat. Repeat. It's not getting worse, but it doesn't get better for a while. He'll be OK.
I enjoy a little more Bali life. Ubud is an interesting mix of locals and tourists. You always see people working on crafts. Women carry everything on their heads, including bricks and stones. There are offerings all over the ground. Don't text and walk; the sidewalks are terrible and OFTEN have three-foot holes you can fall in.
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