I’d seen the movie, of course. Hasn’t everyone watched the ever-endearing Julia Roberts amble across the globe on her soul seeking journey that all started in Bali with Ketut, the toothless medicine man who read her palm and set her future in motion? It’s a heartwarming tale, based on the author’s own life, worth a watch for the beautiful scenes of Ubud with it’s jungles and rice paddies alone. What I hadn’t realised was that Ketut’s character in the film is actually the same, real-life Ketut that the author had met and been so influenced by. And that he was still living right here, in Ubud.
When I spotted the sign pointing down a nondescript side road, I yanked my boyfriend so hard in excitement that our scooter nearly went careering off edge of the road and into the jungly undergrowth. The sign read simply, ‘Ketut Liyer’s House’ and we followed the road to a small, pretty guesthouse. Since the movie’s release, Ketut has become a local celebrity and his house a magnet for tourists who come to visit him and get their palms read by the cheerful medicine man. When we visited however it was late 2015 and Eat, Pray, Love had been released over 5 years ago. Remembering his crinkly face and toothless smile from the movie, I had to wonder how old Ketut could possibly be now…
The entrance to Ketut’s house and garden leads into a pretty courtyard, filled with flowers, caged birds and the heady smell of incense. The raised platform where Ketut does his readings is adorned with ornate images. I spot a faded photograph of a smiling Julia Roberts with Ketut and his family, but no sign of the man himself. The friendly man who welcomes us introduces himself as Ketut’s son and tells us that unfortunately his father is too tired to greet visitors today. ‘He is very old’, he laughs, ‘100 years old!’ Incredible. No wonder the guy wanted some peace and quiet. We wander around the guesthouse grounds which are serene and beautiful. It’s not hard to see why Elizabeth Gilbert was so enchanted by this place.
Sadly, I recently saw in an article that Ketut passed away in the summer of 2016, at the age of 100, only a few months after we visited. I’m sure though that his memory will live on. In those who will watch the film and be seduced by the mysticism and serenity of Ubud and will flock to visit his guesthouse to sit cross-legged on that well-worn platform in the hope of catching some words of wisdom from a wise, old medicine man.
Rest in peace Ketut, or as you would say, ‘See you later, alligator.’