I awoke in Ubud the next day to the crow of a misguided rooster. It wasn’t daybreak yet, but I rose anyways and felt the magnetic pull to explore the exotic country I had traveled a day to see. What better place to honor my son who was learning about Hinduism before he died?
I began by taking a cooking lesson from a man named Dharma. I couldn’t help but pause at the name. I was Dharma’s only student and he forced me to focus on one singular task at a time. When I would finish, I could I go on to the next stage. Thirty very hungry minutes later, I ate my creation, thanked him for a unique experience and walked away with his family recipe for fish.