Home For Christmas

It seems that over the years I have become like the tropical flowers in the Balikana garden. I need food, watering, and sun. After spending five days in Vancouver Island, Canada during a freak snow blizzard I was ready to high tail it back to Balikana Retreat for a tropical Christmas.

I thought I might spend a couple of days in Bali, but the call of home was too strong, and instead of taking a taxi to my favorite haunt in Kuta, I headed to the domestic terminal to purchase a ticket to Mataram, Lombok. Two thousand Rupiah a bag is a good price for portaging at the airport, and even though I could have managed nicely myself, I like to give the porters a chance to earn some Rupiah. I have always been processed through immigration quickly when I have the porters by my side. It could be coincidental but it has never failed me. One tip for all of you is to have small money. You will never receive change.

Merpati Air had a flight leaving for Lombok at 7:00 p.m. and a standby flight at 5:00 p.m. I paid 310,000 Rupiah for the air ticket and headed to the baggage check to try and dump my heavy bags. They wanted 20,000 Rupiah a bag! I indignantly left refusing to pay. I was not going to leave Bali without doing a little bit of shopping, so I hired a car and a driver for a couple of hours and headed to Kuta. Be aware that most everything is negotiable. If the price seems good for you, then assume that you have a good price. If you are not sure, then bargain. I did not barter. I now had baggage storage and transportation and considered the rate a bargain. I paid 120,000 Rupiah for a two- hour ride in an air con mini van. I did inform the driver that the two hours was “rubber time” meaning it could be more or less the agreed upon time frame.

I returned to the airport at five o’clock and was told that the flight was full. I had to wait for the seven o’clock flight. They weighed my bags and sadly informed me that I was 14 klgs. over the allotted baggage allowance. “Give me a break!” I replied. "I just came international.” I knew my bags were over the allowance, and that was why I was groaning under the weight of my carry on bag, laptop, and winter jacket.

My helpless female wiles did not work. I was instructed to “go pay at the counter” before receiving my boarding card. The fellow was not totally immune to my whining, as he did discount off four kilos and permitted me to tuck my winter jacket into the bag. In total it cost me 44,000 rupiah. I considered it a bargain to be able to dump off the jacket. By western standards 44,000 Rupiah is nothing. If I had known it would be so cheap, I would have packed more stuff and just paid!

The seven o’clock flight was late. I was becoming stressed. It is not easy transiting over to Gili Trawangan late at night. It takes special arrangements, but I am well connected. Made arranged for a charter boat to be waiting for me at Bangsal Harbor, and his brother was waiting there to help smooth the way. It would be the biggest folly to try and “wing it!” over to the island at a late hour without first organizing the transportation.

Finally we were ready to board the plane. I was exhausted. It had been a three-day international journey from winter to the tropics; I was jetlagged, in desperate need of a shower and a place to unload my bags. My fellow travelers and I were hustled into the airport min van. Passenger’s knees touching knees, bags knocking against shoulders and bodies touching hip to hip. Incredibly, we all managed to squeeze into place and the door was shut.

I was hurtled out of my mental protective cone by the plop of a ladies backpack being dropped on top of my feet. It was too much!! “Can you please remove your bag from my feet?” I said in a low and tightly controlled voice. The lady responded with a smile and flipped the bag off my toes. “Thank you.” I responded. I was singing the “it will soon be over” mantra to myself as I boarded the plane.

I had the first seat. I was sitting beside the exit door, and I was so close to the pilot I could almost reach out and touch him. I had to stow everything above in the overhead bin, and I had the small wobbly slip in the arm tray. I hated this seat! I was thinking that things could not get worse. I allowed myself to sink into a catatonic state, which I hoped, would last for the duration of the twenty-five minute flight to Mataram.

I was brought out of my trance by the intrusive wail of a gentleman’s voice. “Do you know how to get to Sengeegee?" "You look like you know your way around!” "Do you know how to get to Sengeegee?” I could not ignore this insistent voice, so I pulled myself around to search out the person crying out for help. There was a couple sitting approximately four rows down on the opposite side of the plane. It was backpack lady and her traveling companion! She sat beside him with that smile still on her face. I finally responded, “Sengiggi! It is Sengiggi! and yes, I do know my way around! What made you think by looking at me that I knew my way around?”

I think the next question was “Where are you going?” but I could not be sure as I had somehow zoned out. My mental state in Never Never Land, and my reactions in autopilot, I somehow managed to carry on an unintelligent conversation. “I am heading to the Gili Islands.” “Well, how are you getting there?” he responded. “By Boat!” silly person, I thought, how do you get to an island then if not by boat? “Well, that sounds good to me, mind if we join you?” “You're kidding," I responded. "You want to come with me?“ “Alright, if you are serious, sure I will help you transit through. I have a boat waiting for me at the harbor, and you are welcome to come along.” I thought to myself when this guy gets to Mataram he will probably decide to go to his Sengeegee! I was wrong.

Rolling our luggage carts to the taxi stand my gentleman traveler ran over my heel with his overburdened cart. Ouch ooow that hurt, grumbling under my breath I was holding back my tears of pain and hoping that I could get into the taxi without losing my dignity. Finally on our way, couple in back and I in front with the driver, we were now heading to Bangsal Harbor where I hoped that the boat was still awaiting us. I was trying to think of a back-up plan but could not think of anything. I settled into my seat after once again assuring the driver that we were going to Bangsal Harbor, yes, and that tonight we were going to Gili Trawangan!

We arrived at the harbor and Made’s brother was there to help us to the boat. He was very surprised that I had guests with me. Dragging and pulling the bags to the boat we boarded and were finally on our way. We were lucky, it was a still night, and the water was like black glass. We glided along skimming pass Lombok, Gili Air, and Gili Meno.

When did the smile and my good humor return to my face? It had to have been at the harbor. How can one person resist the joy of watching a fellow traveler experience the newness of a situation that has become mundane and normal to you? The wonder of it all. It is magic. I sat there and watched this couple in their antics. The man sitting on edge of the boat while the lady stood in the middle of the swaying boat taking pictures. There were smiles and laughter and wonder as we docked in front of Balikana. Made stood on the beach with a torch to guide us in. “The water is so clear.” The lady exclaimed. “You can see right to the bottom. This is wonderful, paradise!” “Yes it is, I thought, this is paradise.”

This wonderful lady and gentleman were guests at Balikana Retreat for five nights. Every morning we shared a coffee together, the lady insisted in having hers in a beer mug, and said that we should get bigger coffee cups. I will consider that suggestion.

They finally moved on to travel to some of the other islands in Indonesia. It was saying goodbye to old friends. I could not believe it had been only five nights. I could have known them all my life. They made an indelible imprint on Balikana and me.

My mother taught me as a little girl growing up in Montreal to always say please and thank you and to wear clean underwear because you never know when you will be in an accident. I have never forgotten my childhood lessons. Made taught me to look beyond the moment and search for the meaning of our experiences.

Our guests past and present are as much Balikana as Made and I are Balikana, and the interaction that we share together are special moments in our lives. I thank the two of you for touching our lives and enriching it for the five days that you stayed in our home, and we wish you safe journey and many exciting experiences in your future travels. To all our past guests and present guests we wish you the same joy, and hope that you find what you are searching during your travels. I made it home for Christmas, and Made and I together will be welcoming you to our home for the holidays. “From our home to yours, Happy Holidays, and all the best for the New Year.”