Margo Weinstein - Jalan-Jalan: A Journey of Wanderlust and Motherhood

Introduction

JALAN-JALAN ? ASKED PUTU WHEN he saw me lacing up my sneakers instead of slipping on my flip-flops. Jalan-jalan ? asked Komang when I walked out the villas teak doors and past the car without asking him to drive me anywhere. Putu and Komang used this Indonesian phrase to ask me whether I was going for a walk, something I did most days during the two years my son, Jake, and I lived in Bali. Our Balinese staff and neighbors had become used to seeing me on my walks through the rice paddies and along the steep, winding roads of Ubud. And I had learned the hard way to wear sneakers for these walks after developing plantar fasciitis, an injury common among expats in Bali who happily adopt Balinese footwear but keep their Western walking habits.

What led me, a class action lawyer and single mom from Chicago, to walk away from a successful career and drag nine-year-old Jake to the other side of the world? Or, in a mashup of English and Indonesian, what was my jalan-jalan ? Jalan-jalan the polysemous Indonesian word I co-opted for my books titleis ubiquitous in Bali. At Green School, the international school Jake attended, Jalan-Jalan was the program where students could step out of their comfort zones and try something new. During one Jalan-Jalan , Jakes class rescued sharks from tanks at a Denpasar nightclub and released them into the ocean off the Gili Islands. (Two of three sharks survived the transfer.) Green Schools adoption of the word fits perfectly within the spirit of its dictionary definition. As a verb, jalan-jalan means to take a walk, but also to go on, to go forward, to pass. As a noun, it means road. We lived on Jalan Sri Wedari, just north of Jalan Raya Ubud, the main road through central Ubud. But jalan-jalan also means (literally and figuratively) a route used for traveling between places, a course taken, and a path chosen in life or career.

My Jalan-Jalan both my path and this bookhas two parts. Part I, before Jake was born, is my travel to remote regions of the world, rafting, kayaking, trekking, and climbing in wild places, and experiencing different cultures. This travel provided needed escapes from my demanding job, and adventures that challenged and pushed me to expand my abilities and perspective. I took risks that later led Jake to exclaim, when he read Part I, Mom! How was I ever even born?

Part II is the story of how Jake changed my path and my travel. My risk threshold, which had been high (especially for a lawyer), needed to adapt to include a child I did not want to get killed or leave motherless. My travel destinations moved from the rugged mountains of Pakistan to the more stroller-friendly boulevards of Paris. Instead of paddling a river raft or ocean kayak, Jake and I took Disney cruises. These trips were fun, and Jake loved hugging Mickey Mouse and playing Ping-Pong with Goofy, but they were not enough. I needed to find and follow a new path that could accommodate motherhood and satisfy my wanderlust. Instead of a series of exciting but disparate adventures like those in Part I, Jake and I embarked on more sustained adventures. We did not climb mountains, but we took significant risks.