Or how Travis nearly died.
If yesterday’s post wasn’t easy to write, this one certainly isn’t any better. What are the odds that the very next day after I nearly drowned, it would be Travis’ turn to have a close call?
One of the great thing about our accommodation are the hammocks that hang on the back balcony. Travis really enjoys spending time in the one in front of our door, and spends hours reading and / or listening to music. Today was no exception: while I was busy inside editing photos, he was relaxing in the hammock.
At some point while editing pictures I heard a sound, and Travis grumbled. I went out to see what was going on, and Travis had somehow tipped over his iPod onto the roof (our room was on the second floor, and the roof was over a section of the first floor). The iPod was unfortunately out of arm’s reach, and so we had to find a way to get to it. I wanted to try a branch or a sweater – Travis decided instead to get onto the roof. He went over the railing and was standing flush against it, holding on.
Me – The roof isn’t strong enough to support you (knowing that the roof was made of a corrugated clay-like composite).
Travis – Of course it is. It’s really solid (thinking that it was corrugated metal).
Travis took a step and I asked him to at least hold on to my hand. As soon as I reached out for him, he disappeared. He fell over 11 feet, right through the roof, leaving behind a Travis-shaped cloud. The moment seamed to last forever, where my brain couldn’t processed what had just happened. The whole in the roof was not much larger than him, and looking through I could see him on the ground bellow. I screamed, which felt like an eternity after the facts and told him not to move. I ran down the stairs and went to him.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. He was alive. He was conscious. He didn’t seem hurt. He hadn’t broken any bones, and had missed a concrete step by not even an inch. I removed his shirt thinking that there would be something, anything. Scratches, bruises. Nothing. It was a pure miracle. Somehow, in the fall he had managed to only hurt his coccyx and lose his wedding band.
By now, a large crowd had gathered. The people from the restaurant next door were all standing by, and so was the guesthouse’ owner. Everyone was just amazed at how lucky Travis had been. Someone started to sweep up the debris and I started to look for his wedding band. The old lady from next door helped me look everywhere for it, even through the trash where the debris had been thrown in. Finally someone found it under a piece of furniture. It was only when Travis went to put it back on that we noticed that it had cracked right through, but yet was still holding on as a ring. Good thing we had gotten ourselves travel bands!
We felt really bad about breaking the roof, and we told our host that we would pay for the repairs. No time was wasted, so much so that we didn’t even have time to take a picture of the hole. Two new sheets of roof were purchased and installed (we learned that the extra one was to fix another hole in the roof – this one caused by the owner himself having fallen through it a month prior) and all for the price of $7 US.
We retired to our room for a while, to regain our thoughts. We had been extremely lucky again, but two close calls in two days was just too much. We decided that we shouldn’t stay much longer in Batu Karas – I mean, how much longer can one tempt fate?
And for those wondering, the iPod had remained on the roof through the fall. The owner retrieved it quite easily using a stick.
Lessons of the day: 1) Don’t go on the roof unless it’s safe. 2) Listen to what I say 3) because I am right 🙂
Note from the future: From then on, Travis was known by everyone in Batu Karas as the guy who fell through the roof. There has also been a lot of teasing throughout our vacation about him not being allowed onto any roofs.
PS from the future: Having now read how Travis and I both nearly died within days of arriving into Indonesia, you might now better understand why we felt somewhat hesitant towards the country. At times I felt as though I wasn’t meant to be in Indonesia, and that through our different strokes of luck the country was telling us that it didn’t like us. You can read more about my (unfounded or not, but greatly over-the-top) paranoia here.