This was my last day in Ubud. I stayed in the hostel where I had stayed for a week in the 6-bed dormitory half a month ago. But this time I stayed in a private room, paying 2 times more money than the dorm. I met some familiar people again. One Australian guy who just finished his 30-day yoga teacher training was going to fly back to his motherland in this evening . One old Canadian guy who had lived in Indonesia for 7 years was also going to move the Northern Ubud next day. And a Russian guy who had long curly golden hair and beard still kept silent.

Although some people just said hi to me and we didn’t have a long or deep talk, it was still lucky to meet with them. Knowing that someone else was on the same kind of journey in search of their passion made me feel I was not alone.

I went to familiar restaurants for lunch and dinner. My lunch was rice served with fried mushrooms, fried chicken and sprouts, in addition to a bottle of homemade syrup tea. I ate lunch at the quiet yard for the last time. My dinner was fried rice served with grilled pork ribs, in addition to a bottle of local beer Bintang. I liked the vegetables in rice for it had similar flavor to my hometown’s . Several Chinese couples were also eating here. I heard them talking Chinese.

In the afternoon, the Australian friend said goodbye to me. He is only 22 years old. He worked as an electrical engineer in Australia and took one month leaves to Bali to study the yoga training for teachers. He was introduced to yoga in Melbourne and wanted to learn further about this spiritual exercise.

In the evening, after my walks in the rice fields and coming back to the hostel, the Canadian friend said goodbye to me. He looked 50 years old. He was packing his bags. A yoga mat was hung on the side of his backpack. He practiced meditation and yoga regularly, but I didn’t know why his beer belly was still big and he didn’t have a slim build like other yogis.