Happiness-inducing gifts from Bali & how Indonesians really live!

Text & photos by Lin Xiao’ai, excerpted from "Love or Leave Without Goodbye" published by Fangcun Cultural Creativity Publishing

When luck doesn’t come, you have to go seek it; when luck knocks, there’s absolutely no need to turn it away.

The Indonesian family I met on Gili Island was the epitome of a perfect, unquestionably beautiful family—like a girlish mother, an early-matured eldest daughter, a fashion-loving second daughter, and the youngest daughter with a boyish name who loves basketball and would rather buy Nike than any girly stuff—this lineup of beauties looks just like four sisters, paired with a father who’s not particularly handsome but brimming with confidence. They took me into the traditional daily life of Indonesia and gave me one of the most interesting cultural shocks of my trip.

That day, the beauty-family drove me from Ubud to their home. Along the way, the five women chattered nonstop, excitedly showing me their freshly done crystal nails and newly bought shorts and skirts. Amidst their non-stop girl talk, we smoothly arrived at the four sisters’ home before sunset. This traditional house in southern Bali, near Sanur, is home to five people, ten dogs, eight birds, and one laughing chicken that cackles like it’s laughing. My first night immersed in real Balinese life was not only bustling with lively energy but also gave me quite the cultural wake-up call.

“Why are you bringing toilet paper to the bathroom?” the early-matured eldest daughter asked me before I went to the toilet. I was about to ask her why there was no toilet paper or trash can in their bathroom. It turns out they use a DIY bidet method—no matter what, after you’re done, you just hose down your bottom with a water pipe. Now that’s eco-friendly!

Facing her matter-of-fact response, I sheepishly asked a second question. “So… after hosing down your bottom, what if it’s wet?” She turned and grabbed a small handkerchief with a cute pattern—that was the answer. “So I always carry a little handkerchief to wipe, but a lot of people don’t even need to, it depends on personal habit!” (Maybe tomorrow I should buy a cute little handkerchief as my first key to entering a Balinese home…)

The second shock came: no hot water!! (And of course, no showerhead either.) So on my first evening there, in the slightly cool dusk, I took a quick battle-shower-style wash while shivering. I still couldn’t get used to the Indonesian way of washing everything—hair, face, teeth, and bottom—with just one big bucket of water and a scoop. But that’s cultural difference—and actually pretty fun!

In Indonesia, where it’s summer all year round, not having hot water makes some sense. But the deeply rooted belief that “you can’t get clean without hot water” is hard to shake. And that night, as if things weren’t bad enough, my battle shower coincided with a burnt-out toilet light and no candles. I had to crack the door open a sliver to let in a bit of light and finished my cold Indonesian shower half in the dark. Through that tiny gap came the sound of the beauty-family’s animated discussion: “Let’s go buy a candle tomorrow…”

Don’t misunderstand—this family isn’t unusual. No, no, no. This is totally normal home equipment, unrelated to wealth. It’s the difference between “need” and “want.” When a bucket is enough, why do you need a showerhead? When cold water is enough, why do you need hot water? Maybe the difference between what we define as “civilized” and “uncivilized” is just this simple.

The next morning, I picked up my toothbrush and was about to head downstairs groggily to brush my teeth, when a fast-moving black shadow startled me out of my wits. Could it be the rodent I feared the most…? Old Balinese houses offer so many surprises and scares. I ended up brushing my face and teeth as quickly as I did my battle shower. Before the 10 dogs, 8 birds, and 1 chicken in the yard could react, I’d already been scared into a frenzy.

Today’s plan was to follow the eldest daughter to a local salon for a styling session before heading to a friend’s wedding party. The Hindu Balinese family has endless religious festivals and celebrations, all requiring formal traditional Balinese attire, the pakaian adat. That day, when I opened the beauty-family’s wardrobe, I was truly amazed—various beautiful kebayas (tops) in silks and laces, colorful kamen (skirts), and the indispensable yellow-green-red sashes. I asked the beauty-family how many sets of traditional clothes each person had on average. They seriously tried counting but weren’t quite sure of the number. But one thing was certain—it was more than ten fingers could count.

Weddings, funerals, celebrations, rituals, and all kinds of important social events are the best occasions to show off your personal style. Balinese people take traditional attire very seriously—it’s a sign of respect for faith and culture, and the greatest form of self and family identity. That day, the eldest daughter wore a noble red and black outfit and helped me pick a romantic purple one. Her other three “besties” wore cheerful yellow, mysterious black, and soft blue. Then we stepped out daintily and dazzlingly.

This Indonesian wedding party was very different from any I’d attended before. Not because of customs or nationality, but because I could vaguely sense an undercurrent of helpless resignation and a lack of genuine joy—as if everyone knew “the family secret.”

Later, I found out the young bride was actually a pregnant bride, having gotten pregnant just a month into dating the groom. In the traditional Balinese extended family system, a 22-year-old getting pregnant after just a month of being with her partner was a huge disgrace to the family. But the wedding still had to go on—there was no avoiding it. They kept it as small and low-key as possible. There weren’t many guests in traditional Indonesian dress, either. There wasn’t much laughter. Everyone quietly ate the prepared lunch and desserts.

Then the young couple entered. And on their faces, I saw the brightest smiles of the day. Looking at the bride’s slightly rounded belly, I genuinely hoped this new life would bring more joy and acceptance. If marriage isn’t a happy occasion, the days ahead might be even harder to bear.

At dinner, the eldest daughter said to me, “On the day I get married, you have to wear the same custom-made family uniform as us, because you’re family—not just a friend.” Oh my God—I’ve gained family in Indonesia?! If I were older, I’d probably be moved to tears.

I truly love this family and every moment I spend with them. I love sipping coffee in the yard with the Indonesian dad early in the morning, listening to birds sing. I asked him, “Why do Indonesian families all love keeping birds?” “Because birds sing beautifully. They tell us to sing when we’re happy, and sing when we’re not—that’s our simple life.”

The Indonesian dad is a workaholic. Only in the mornings do you see his relaxed side. He’d chat with me about his youthful romances—like the legendary feat of having had 129 girlfriends before marriage. My fingers couldn’t even keep count. He got married at 23… did he start dating at age 10? Ten girls a year, one a month? The Indonesian dad clearly noticed me doing the math, and with full confidence told me, “I’m handsome and smart, of course lots of women liked me.”

These past two days, the Indonesian dad got his first tattoo on his arm. This upset the eldest daughter a lot. I was surprised she’d be so sad about her dad’s tattoo. “Dad’s tattoo has no meaning, it’s just a plain design. It’s gobro (Indonesian for ‘stupid’), and it’s only because someone backed out last minute and the money was already paid, so he got it to not waste the money. He’s not a teenager, doing something so gobro…” As the eldest daughter complained angrily, in another corner of the yard, Dad was proudly showing off his first tattoo to his friends.

Beyond the overly confident dad, there’s the ever-girlish mom, the three stunning daughters, and the carefree animals in the yard: birds eating bananas, dogs stealing pizza and coffee, and the laughing chicken that still hasn’t smiled at me. This family has too many unforgettable stories. This Hindu-believing family lives simply and contentedly.

After dinner, the yard was packed with people and animals. The men sat on one side chatting business, the women on the other discussing family matters. I sipped my third cup of Balinese coffee that day, completely at ease, feeling no outsider at all.

After sharing a bed with the eldest daughter for three days, leaving was actually a little hard. As usual, she finished a video call with her cruise ship-working boyfriend before bed. Then she turned to me, eyes glistening. Worried, I asked if something happened with her boyfriend or if anything was wrong. But she hesitantly said, “It’s not because of him. It’s because you’re leaving tomorrow, sister, and I’m really going to miss you.”

Oh, this lovely family, this bunch that made me laugh and cry. Meeting you all has been the best Bali gift the heavens could give me. When I left, the Indonesian dad kissed me on both cheeks in the French style, the girlish mom asked when I’d come back, and the youngest sister walked me to the bus stop, reluctant to say goodbye. I told her, “When you suddenly feel sad and want to talk to someone, remember—you’ve got a sister.” I’ve got friends in Chiang Mai, and I’ve got family in Bali. That’s travel—you never know who will walk into your life next.