Week Two: Fresh Air

This week was Lebaran, one of the biggest holidays of the year for Muslims. It felt a lot like the last week of school before Christmas. On Friday afternoon, my office was filled with giant tinsel-lined gift baskets full of delicious cookies of every flavor. Everyone said goodbye for the weekend and headed back to their hometowns. That night, I had dinner at a friend’s house and her mom made a bunch of Indonesian dishes. The food was spicier and Muslim songs, not Nat King Cole, played in the background, but really it didn't feel much different from when my family celebrates the holidays. I don't think it matters where you are, when you have a few days off, and sit down with people you care about for a good meal, it feels like home.

I didn't feel like I deserved time off yet, but I can’t say I minded the chance to explore. I was lucky enough to be invited to spend the weekend in the Gili Islands with some friends I’d met. After taking an Uber, a plane, another two-hour taxi down an endless winding road, a speedboat, and a horse and buggie, we made it to Gili Trawangan.

North Western coast of Gili Trawangan

I grew up in a tourist town but I’ve never seen anything like this place. You can walk around the island in about two hours and there are no motorized vehicles. The only ways to get around are walking, biking, and horse and buggie. The east side of the island is tattooed in villas, beachside bars, and sunburned tourists from around the world. The roadside shops sell Batik, Bintag, and everything in between.

Places like this always make me think about my love-hate relationship with tourism. I love to travel but I hate what travel does to some parts of the world. When we went snorkeling our boat captain told us about  about seeing hotels take over the beaches of his childhood and growing mountains of trash that the island can’t keep up with. It reminded me of every time I go back to my hometown and see another tour bus arrive in my once off the beaten path neighborhood. It reminded me of seeing a Target store instead of the small business that's been there for decades, and locals unable to afford the rising cost of living in the towns they’ve always called home.  But at the same time, when we told our captain that we didn’t want to feed the fish the bread they had brought, he and his crew ripped the bag open and scarfed down whole loaf. Tourism is these men’s’ meal only ticket and apparently it's not enough. So how do we balance the two?

Piles of trash on the north western coast of Gili Trawangan

Qualms with mass tourism aside, I’m glad I got the chance to see this remote part of the world. Even though I was thousands of miles away, it felt a lot like home. It felt like the warm summer nights when I was a kid, biking around Lanikai Loop under the stars. I missed the sound of the ocean when you dive under the waves, and the feeling of a cold shower after an early morning run in the blistering heat. I missed watching the sun climb over the horizon in the morning and going halfway around the island to watch it crawl back under the horizon in the evening. I missed the fresh air.

It was great to have a little time to explore East Indonesia and see a little more of the world. I’ve already got my next few weekend destinations picked out, but for now it’s back to the grind.