In the summer of 2016, my family had our second trip to Bali.
We had packed up a few days prior, and we woke up early to go to Pekanbaru and catch our flight. I hated being woken up early, and I hated showering early in the morning even more. I grumbled and complained up until I finished my shower, and when we got to the car to drive to Pekanbaru, I quickly fell back asleep.
As we arrived at the airport, the sun was already up and blazing, just like the usual Indonesia-June-sun. The realisation hasn’t set in yet when I was on the transit plane from Pekanbaru to Jakarta - but I finally had an ‘oh snap!’ moment when I boarded the plane from Jakarta to Bali. I quickly became so excited that I couldn’t sleep on the flight. My leg kept on bouncing, and I probably read the magazines provided at least three times. I ate airplane food - it was surprisingly nice - and spent the rest of the two-hour flight praying that the plane wouldn’t crash so that we could see Bali again.
And by some luck, we all arrived at the Ngurah Rai Airport in one piece! We traversed through the large airport, seeing everyone of different colours and ethnicities with the same excitement to finally experience Bali. There were posters of Balinese dancers, shows, and there were big stores and shops that didn’t exist in Pekanbaru! But despite the largeness of the airport, we didn’t stay there long and quickly went on a bus to go to our hotel in Nusa Dua, where we spent the rest of the evening resting for the week ahead.
We did many things that week, but the most memorable memories were the simplest - I remember walking to the backyard of our hotel, and we would arrive at a white sand beach! I would bury my brother in the sand and he would struggle to get out beneath the heavy, viscous blanket. My mom would just laugh and occasionally worry about my brother getting a crab in his pants, while my dad would tell her not to worry as he sipped his cold beer. When we weren’t at the beach though, we would play billiard. I remember being absolutely terrible at it, and I would get frustrated as I frequently missed, but it was a fun game that brought me and my brother closer. It was one of the few things we could play together.
I remember feeling weightless at the time - like it was just me, my parents, and my brother and no thoughts of the simple worries that a fifth-grader could or might have.
These memories were simple, and weren’t as extravagant as the other activities we did that week, but they were focused on the relationship we had with the people around us and not so much the commotion that surrounded us. We weren’t distracted by spectacular dances or worry about monkeys that would jump on us, but the simpleness around us made us appreciate and focus on being around each other more. It wasn’t something that I appreciated more back then, but now that I’m older, the slowness that lets us connect with each other better is something that doesn’t frequently come by in the present. What completes our journeys aren’t the new places we see, but rather the bonds we tie and strengthen along the way.
Written by Marsya E.