On the Edge of a Dream. Michael Wiese

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      “Nipas, Nipas,” he sputters, shaking his head. Everyone laughs. “Nipas” means “thin” in Indonesian. Everybody thinks this is a real hoot. Nipas is what they call me now.

      Everyone is having such a laugh that Eddie gets back into the act. He slowly rolls a cigarette, playing to his audience. “We don’t really have any choice,” he says, “might as well make the best of it.”

      It’s fun but also very tiring to have so much attention continually heaped upon you.

      Sadia wraps a brightly colored saput around my waist. As we follow him up the temple steps and through the split, temple gate, Eddie murmurs, “They’re having the ceremony because they think we’re gods.”