It’s our last day on Bali, I’m sitting at breakfast enjoying the view and the French toast, when a parade of local women walk into view on the rockwall above the beach. They are each carrying a sack of gravel on their heads. One by one, they tilt their head at the designated spot and their load dumps out without missing a stride. They are the human wheel barrow. The procession, which consists of a dozen or so women, continues all day from 7 am to mid afternoon.
Bali has been a wonderful experience. It’s beautiful and lush, green beyond belief and populated with kind, gentle people. But there is hardship. Poverty. The sight of the women, not young by any stretch, makes me reflect. I am privileged, spoiled beyond belief actually, by a life of plenty, a life that never once included carrying a 50 lb bag of gravel on my head.