Treasures Lost...and "Found": Bali, Indonesia

It was 10pm. Comanx and I were tandem on the scooter, casually cruising back from the shoe store where she had purchased a pair of gold heels for her University graduation ceremony the following day. I braked in preparation to make the turn into Comanx's village. As I glanced in my mirrors, I thought it odd that another scooter lingered behind us rather than circle around us on the outside of the lane.

Finally, the scooter made its move, but on the inside of the lane, and as the man operating it accelerated past us, he snatched Comanx's purse, which was strapped over her right shoulder. "B! Go! Go!", she frantically screamed. The contents of her purse flashed through my head as I maneuvered the 125cc Honda through the narrow village passages dodging obstacles and doing my best to assess any telegraphed turns: a bit of money, the replacement cell phone that she had spent her last money on, important school and certain job-search related documents...

Confident in my ability, I continued the pursuit, ready to throw in the towel if it got too dangerous. Comanx screamed to alert soon-to-be-passersby of the theft, hoping someone would create a roadblock. I was surprised that the little Honda was able to keep up considering there were two of us. As we pulled onto the main drag, it was clear that he would have a tough time losing us, so he chucked the bag onto the road behind him and directly in front of us...

I hit the brakes and ran over the purse, which destabilized our balance as we skidded to a stop, laying the bike down in the process. When we hit the curb and finally slid to a stop, I quickly jumped up to check Comanx. After letting me know she was OK, I ran to save the purse from being run over again, and returned to a crowd of nearly 30 pedestrians and scooterists that had gathered. Two men were inspecting the bike, an old man from a nearby warung gave us water, and others questioned Comanx on the circumstances of the chase. "Let's get you to the hospital", a middle-aged, English-speaking Balinese fellow declared as he glanced at me. Only then did I notice the blood dripping onto my shirt after weaving its way down the side of my face. "I'm fine, but thank you", I replied. Only then did I feel the pain...despite wearing a helmet, the side of my face ate some serious pavement. As Comanx surveyed me, the look of relief she had been wearing transformed into one of anguish. "I'm so sorry, B!", she apologetically repeated over and over. "Aww, don't worry. I'm fine and I'm glad you're OK", I reassured her.

In order to avoid the police, we soon thanked everyone, jumped back onto the scooter and headed to the drugstore to pick up some rubbing alcohol. After picking the bits of pavement from my right hand and cleansing my face as the clerk observed inquisitively, Comanx dropped her head into her hands. "Honey, it's ok...this is nothing, I promise...I'm absolutely fine. If I wasn't you'd know it." "It's my fault...I should have never carried my bag", she retorted. I couldn't help but laugh. Eventually, we began the short ride home, during which Comanx crafted a story for her Mother and Father, who she feared would be upset that she carried her bag with her.

"Some children ran in front of us and Brandon swerved to miss them. [in Balinese]." After rubbing a local oil over the wounds on my face and right hand, Meme surveyed our faces before responding: "I didn't realize children in our village play in the streets at 10pm..."
Comanx's family listened as she recounted the story. They weren't upset, but the fact that thievery occurred in their village seemed to really bother them. Among Balinese, such crimes are fairly rare, but with tourism came pick-pocketers and the like, many from other Indonesian islands. After instructing us to be more careful, her parents shook my hand as I packed my backpack to head home for the night.

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