Tirtagganga – holy rivers run deep
With the flow of the last couple of days, I caught a boat back to Bali…
I got off the boat in Amed on the East coast without knowing where I was going next. But water seemed to be the element at the moment, so I caught a bemo to Tirtagangga, meaning “holy river”, much like the Ganges in India, but without the dirt and flocks of people.
In Tirtagangga the river flows freely from the mountains, down the rice fields, into a Palace of Water.
In Tirtagangga the mountain backdrop shelter the green valleys, where thousands of birds sing as the palm trees swing.
In Tirtagganga, the sound of guitars and drums from the local sidewalk Warung merge with the sound of crickets and frogs and roosters.
In Tirtagangga I made friends with Budhi who took me around the rice field and let me stay in his beautiful bungalow overlooking the peaceful valley for a real good price, where his aunt made the best Nasi Goreng.
I also had the best vanilla and pineapple milkshake, several Bintang beers, a beautiful evening with the locals and three Dutch girls, discussed the changes of the World with a young English guy, talked about love and the spirit of God with my new friend Budhi, tried speaking Indonesian with his aunt, showered in the holy spring river, rode a scooter in the night and watched the lights of a hundred fireflies glowing across the fields.
In Tirtagangga I caught a glimpse of paradise.
And that remains within me forever.