I’m having a ceremony for the opening of the clinic, my friend Meg tells me.
She is opening Ubud’s first proper colonic clinic. (I’m not sure what proper means? That they have EU certified hoses or something?)
I’ve no idea what it will involve she says, but please come.
You will have to give a pig a colonic and then they’ll sacrifice the pig and you’ll have to drink the poo,’ I say. Or something equally as mature.
Meg tells me to wear a sarong.
I wear the length of ikat I’ve bought to turn into cushions. I get three Balinese people telling me how beautiful I am. I made the right choice on upholstery I think happily.
The clinic is beautiful. In each of the bathrooms there are instructions on why and how to squat and poo. It’s actually a fascinating read and I vow to squat more.
The offerings of fruit are piled high in the reception area.
‘When can I eat it?’ Alula asks.
‘Not yet,’ I whisper.
‘Because,’ I say, ‘the priest dude is still chanting. And it would be rude to steal from the fairies.’
‘Yes,’ I say. It’s easier calling the spirits fairies because this is a frame of reference she can understand and after the whole cremation and ginormous horse episode I’ve learnt my lesson.
‘The naughty fairies get this pile of offerings with all the chicken feet in it,’ I say pointing at the incense strewn, chicken foot offering.
‘Because naughty fairies like yucky food.’
‘And the good fairies get all of the yummy food?’
‘Yes exactly. But you get no food until the priest has done his bit.’
We have rice and water sprinkled on us and pasted to our heads. Alula starts eating the rice off her head.
I’m slightly disappointed that there is no actual blessing of the colonic machine. And no pig.