Also you must take into consideration that you're quite probably living on the slopes of a volcano and you might be straddling a fault line, as well. And not just a geological fault line, either. As idyllic as Bali seems, the wise keep in mind that this is, in fact, Indonesia—the largest Islamic nation on earth, unstable at its core, corrupt from the highest ministers of justice all the way down to the guy who pumps gas into your car (and who only pretends to fill it all the way up). Some kind of revolution will always be possible here at any moment, and all your assets may be reclaimed by the victors. Probably at gunpoint.

Negotiating all this dodgy business is not something I have any qualifications whatsoever to be doing. I mean—I went through a divorce proceeding in New York State and everything, but this is another page of Kafka altogether. Meanwhile, $18,000 of money donated by me, my family and my dearest friends is sitting in Wayan's bank account, converted into Indonesia rupiah—a currency that has a history of crashing without notice and turning to vapor. And Wayan is supposed to get evicted from her shop in September, which is around the time I leave the country. Which is in about three weeks.

But it's turning out to be almost impossible for Wayan to find a piece of land she deems appropriate for a home. Setting aside all the practical considerations, she has to examine the taksu—the spirit—of each place. As a healer, Wayan's sense of taksu, even by Balinese standards, is supremely acute. I found one place that I thought was perfect, but Wayan said it was possessed by angry demons. The next piece of land was rejected because it was too close to a river, which, as everyone knows, is where ghosts live. (The night after she saw that place, Wayan says, she dreamt of a beautiful woman in torn clothes, weeping, and that did it—we could not buy this land.) Then we found a lovely little shop near town, with a backyard and everything, but it was located on a corner, and only somebody who wants to go bankrupt and die young would ever live in a house located on a corner. As everyone knows.

"Don't even try talking her out of it," Felipe advised me. "Trust me, darling. Don't get between the Balinese and their taksu."

Then last week Felipe found a place that seemed to fit the criteria exactly—a small, pretty piece of land, close to central Ubud, on a quiet road, next to a rice field, plenty of space for a garden and well within our budget. When I asked Wayan, "Should we buy it?" she replied, "Don't know yet, Liz. Not too fast, for making decisions like this. I need talk to a priest first."

She explained that she would need to consult a priest in order to find an auspicious day upon which to purchase the land, if she does decide to buy it at all. Because nothing significant can be done in Bali before an auspicious day is chosen. But she can't even ask the priests for the auspicious date upon which to buy the land until she decides if she really wants to live there. Which is a commitment she refuses to make until she's had an auspicious dream. Aware of my dwindling days here, I asked Wayan, like a good New Yorker, "How soon can you arrange to have an auspicious dream?"

Wayan replied, like a good Balinese, "Cannot be rushed, this." Although, she mused, it might help if she could go to one of the major temples in Bali with an offering, and pray to the gods to bring her an auspicious dream . . .

"OK," I said. "Tomorrow Felipe can drive you to the major temple and you can make an offering and ask the gods to please send you an auspicious dream."

Wayan would love to, she said. It's a great idea. Only one problem. She's not permitted to enter any temples for this entire week.

Because she is . . . menstruating. Eat, Pray, Love

你还必须考虑自己可能住在火山坡地上，也可能横跨断层线，而且不仅是地理上的断层线。巴厘岛或许看似美好，明智的人却牢记这儿毕竟是印尼，他们骨子里并不稳定，其腐败贪污的现象从最高的司法人员，一直到最底下给你的车加油的家伙（假装加满油）都可见到。这里随时可能爆发某种革命，你的全部资产可能被胜利者据为己有，而且也许还是在枪口下。

为了应付这种种难事，我可还没有资格。我是说——虽然我在纽约州历经离婚诉讼累积种种经验，但这完全是另一码子事。同时，我和亲朋好友们捐赠的一万八千元正搁在大姐的银行账户中，已兑换成印尼卢比亚——这个货币过去曾经在一夕之间垮掉，化为乌有。而大姐的店约即将在九月到期，就在我离开印尼的时候，也就是三个礼拜之后。

结果发现，想找到大姐认为适合安居为家的土地几乎不可能。除了所有的现实考量外，她必须检查每个地方的神灵（taksu）。身为治疗师，大姐对神灵的感觉即使就巴厘岛的标准而言，也是超级敏锐。我找到一个我认为很完美的地方，但大姐说它被恶魔控制。接下来有块地之所以遭她拒绝，是因为太靠近河流，而大家都知道河流是鬼魂的居所。（大姐说，看过这块地后，她晚上梦见一名美女穿着破破烂烂的衣服放声大哭，于是我们买不成这块地。）而后我们在小镇附近找到一栋漂亮的小店家，还有后院，却坐落在街角，只有想破产和英年早逝的人才住街角的房子。这是人人皆知之事。

"千万别去劝阻她，"斐利贝劝我，"相信我，甜心。别介入巴厘岛人和他们的神灵之间。"

然后斐利贝在上个礼拜找到一个地方，似乎符合所有的条件——一小块美好的土地，接近乌布镇中心，位于安静的路上，傍着稻田，有足够空间盖花园，在我们的预算之内。我问大姐："我们该不该买？"她回答："还不晓得，小莉，做这样的决定别太急。我得先找祭司谈谈。"

她说她必须询问祭司，才能在决定买的时候选定购地吉日。因为在巴厘岛，所有的大事都必须挑选吉日。但是在她决定是否真要住在那块土地之前，她甚至不能向祭司询问购地吉日。她拒绝承诺，除非等到自己做了吉祥的梦。我深知自己在此地所待时日无多，于是我好里好气问大姐："你能多快安排做个吉祥的梦？"

大姐也好里好气地回答："这件事不能急。"不过，她若有所思地说，倘若带祭品去巴厘岛某大庙，求神带给她吉祥的梦，也许不无帮助……

"好吧，"我说："明天请斐利贝开车载你去大庙，让你带上供品请神托给你一个吉祥的梦。

大姐很愿意，她说。这主意很好。只不过有个问题，她这整个礼拜都不许进寺庙去。

因为，她的……大姨妈来了。