Indian Food, Jazz, and Rain - Bu Siti's Story

I was feeling mentally drained and beaten down by life, so I made a last-minute decision to purchase a ticket to a jazz festival in Bali. After booking the accommodation for the night and travelling around 30 kilometres with my scooter, the warm sounds of jazz greeted me. As I was approaching an Indian food booth in the outdoor venue, the rain started pouring relentlessly. With a plate of vegetarian biryani resting on the palms of my hands, I started looking for sheltered seats with no luck.

Then the booth owner spoke to me, "Why don't you sit next to me under the booth tent?"

"Sure you don't mind?"

"Yeah no worries at all, it's a much better option than eating under the rain," replied the middle-aged, warm lady.

In the small, tight space of her Indian food stall, we started making conversation. From superficial topics, such as the types of food that she sells and the rainy weather, we soon graduated to deeper conversation topics, such as her passion for food, the different life challenges she faces, her family, and more.

Sooner than later, the realisation that I am engaging in a meaningful conversation hit me.

From a Brick-and-Mortar Restaurant to Moving Booth-to-Booth

Having been born and raised in a small village on the outskirts of Surabaya, she uprooted her life and family to Bali in pursuit of a better quality of life. This has led her to start cooking and selling Indian food for both tourists and locals alike. As she talked to me about spices, the various raw ingredients, and the roots of her food, I can see the twinkle and passion in her eyes. Her restaurant that has been standing strong since 2009 got hit hard by the 2020 Coronavirus pandemic, which forced her to close up shop and shift her focus on delivery orders and weekend booths.

With such a big change, it would be easy to feel down and hopeless in the midst of it all. This especially made sense as her restaurant was like her baby that she poured her heart into. I was curious to find out her thought processes and feelings when a tough situation, such as that, happened unexpectedly. While mixing and checking her pot of red curry, she said to me, "Of course, initially I felt a bit sad to have made that hard decision and let go of what has been a result of my hard work. However, life is like that sometimes - you can't force things to happen. What will happen, will be. What we can do is simply change our perception of happiness and what it means to live."

I was stunned that it took me a while to process the wisdom that she imparted on me. Not long after, I asked her, " So, how do you define happiness? What makes you happy and gives you a reason to live another day?"

It only took her a split second to respond, "It's being able to wake up each day and have enough money, love, and food for the day. That is enough to make me happy. Things like going to the beach and cooking the fish that my son caught each day got me going. Happiness is simple."

With that, I felt a tug at my heartstrings as I reflected on my life. She made me realise that life is a subjective experience, in which we get to choose our definitions of happiness, fulfilment, and purpose. The freedom of choice and the power is in our hands, which is why it is up to us to make ourselves happy, content, and secure.

As the rain subsided and more crowd started showing up, I excused myself from Bu Siti's booth and made the empowering choice of being happy and enjoying myself at the jazz festival.

If happiness is simple, what are the things that you can choose to make you happy?