Signs

Do you believe in signs? Do you think that loved ones, the universe, or a higher power sometimes sends you messages from the great beyond to guide and direct you? I think this happens more than most people like to admit, and this week Chris was slapped in the face by signs – literally.

The week started off a bit strange. Chris went surfing in Wainyapu (our current field site) on Monday during his lunch break. The waves weren’t so big, but he was having a decent time. Well, until someone sent the first sign.

I am told the board is fixable, but Chris has run out of fiberglass and epoxy. Apparently, these items are essential for diy surfboard repair. He wasn’t too distraught, though. There are a plethora of surf shops in Bali and people regularly travel between Sumba and Bali. It won’t be too difficult to get the materials he needs. Besides there was a swell coming and he still has his “gun” (a particular type of surfboard, or the pet name Chris has given the board – I don’t actually know.)

To make the most of the swell, we made plans to travel back to Pantai Marosi and stay at Sumba Nautil Resort. This time only Chris and I would go. It would be the first trip we have ever taken without Colby. It seemed perfect. Marosi is only about a 2-hour drive, so we would be close, Colby is in fantastic hands with Novi and Esty, and the resort is beautiful so I would be entertained while Chris surfed. Since it would be just the two of us, we decided to go using the motorbike, which is really just an oversized scooter. We travel to Wainyapu often by motorbike and that takes at least 1.5 hours.

Chris ventured to the local hardware store to see if he could find some scrap metal to make a surfboard rack. While digging through a pile of old kickstands and metal rods, he heard a loud crash. He ran outside and saw a man flying through the air. He had been speeding down the road on his motorbike and hit a tank truck. The blow knocked his unfastened helmet right off his head. When he hit the pavement, Chris said he was unresponsive and bleeding from a large gash on his head. Okay... call me crazy, but I think witnessing a (most likely) fatal motorbike accident is perhaps sign #2. However, Chris was not swayed from the trip. We both have excellent helmets and wear them fastened. Chris is very cautious and does not drive like a maniac. He decided it was only a reminder to be extra cautious.

As planned, we left at 5:45am Wednesday morning with the “gun” strapped to the bike. It was a relatively uneventful journey. Though, we did see this sign and thought it odd enough to stop and take a photo.

Looking back, it probably meant “CAUTION”. At the time, we thought – wow! A sign showing how excited we are about our little trip!!

We arrived at Sumba Nautil at 8am. Mr. Alli checked us in immediately and Chris made a beeline for a break called Sunset Lefts. I decided to take advantage of the quiet by sitting on our veranda knitting and watching butterflies. It was deceptively peaceful. Two hours later, as promised, Chris returned.

Apparently, the swell had arrived, and the waves were enormous.

As I was wiping the blood from his disturbingly abundant wounds, he proceeded to tell me how he had already put his nose back into place. You see - it is broken. He noticed that it was hanging to one side of his face as he came out of the water. Before he had a chance to think about it, he grabbed his nose and pulled back to its original position. Then he puked. I don’t know how he managed to strap his now cracked “gun” back on to the bike or how he drove himself back up the hill to the hotel.

Mr. Alli was nice enough to drive us to the local clinic. For about $8, a nurse stitched up his cheekbone (1 stitch) and his eyelid (3 stitches). While they did have some anesthetic to numb his face for the, shall we say, darning, they had nothing stronger than Tylenol for the pain.

Needless to say, someone wants Chris to be more careful. Since he didn’t get their subtle messages earlier in the week. They smacked him upside the head with a big warning. Chris will not be surfing for at least 3 weeks (healing time for his face). It might be longer depending on how quickly he can get his boards repaired.

Personally, I think it was Grandma Chlo Ann and Nana Foster who sent the messages. Those ladies always had a way of getting their point across. Don’t worry Grandma and Nana. He got the message – loud and clear.