Welcome to Bali. by Colin Decosta
Through his earbuds he hears the constant of the engines and the occasional child. Time passes slowly.
Lost in thought at 40,000 feet drifting between dreams of languid warm water waves and thoughts of perfect waves.
The LCD screen in front counts hours, kilometers and temperatures to an 80’s soundtrack.
Darkness over the great south land below. He will not see the volcano this time, the one the rises from the sea, over the clouds. Over everything.
The one that tells him he’s an hour away.
The doors open to darkness and the crush of humidity with 29° heat somewhere in the mix.
The familiar wonderful sounds & smells wash over him. Never more in love with life than now, in this place.
The sea of faces at the exit, a small sign and a loved face. Made`! a familiar smile in the night. An embrace, stuttered conversation and but laughter fills the car.
Traffic gives way to the suburbs, four on a bike go by, the ordered chaos, glow of lights. The car swings into a lane barely big enough to walk up.
He walks in….the smell of kreteks thick in the night. Home, which never was, never will be. A language and culture refined, old and though he tries, he can never hope to really understand.
Late late coffee and conversations. Smiles at the news of new babies and sadness at some family lost..
Finally all is quiet, dark on cool white sheets, the sound of a dog barking, motorbikes.
He lets these sounds wash him clean, he drifts off thinking of the volcano which lives across the bay.
Welcome to Bali