We interrupt the regularly scheduled blog post to tell you the story of last night.
The island of Ceningan is connected to the island of Lembongan by a rickety narrow yellow bridge, which can only accommodate pedestrians and scooters.
I awakened in the middle of the night to what felt like the vibration of a large transport truck motor rumbling against the side of the house. The local dogs were barking hysterically. I knew there was no way a truck came over that bridge.
As the house shook and I realized it was an earthquake. It was quickly confirmed by an emergency government text, a 6.6 magnitude. I knew I bought that Indonesian SIM card for a reason.
Earthquake in Indonesia, what’s the next logical thought? Did you guess tsunami? Here we are, on a remote island, in a house made of sticks, overlooking the water. I went into mild panic researching tsunami incidence. I texted E in Edmonton for reassurance. Then I realized if the gov’t texted me for the earthquake, they surely would do so for tsunami. I recalled the big hill up the road and was able to fall back to sleep.
My mother’s voice is in my head: Never a dull moment!


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