Saying goodbye.

Perhaps we are all in the same country. Nevertheless, it’s goodbye to some. Bid farewell to the famous four before the fieldtrip to our placements. Rachel, Andy, and Sonia are short terms thus didn’t return. The rest of us ship out tomorrow. Indonesia is big and travel difficult. By air. By sea. Some will be separated by days. Others hours. Most, however, have someone, somekind of support network, within reach.

We wished each other safe travels over dinner. Our last dinner together. In Sanur in on of the beach restaurants. It will be exciting to hear of the other’s placements, work, and living. Each will find themselves in unique situations.

For the past two days I ‘borrowed’ a resort’s facilities. An escape. A holiday. I relish the opportunity to bear my legs and shoulders. I wear my shorts. I wear my strategically wrapped scarf-top. Away from the tourist, modesty is appreciated. I practiced my bahasa with the staff. Lounging in the sun, sandwiched between the pool and sea. My only cost the taxi ride and dinner. Which do indeed, however, add up quickly. My bank account will be happier when I leave Bali.

This could be my last ‘fast’ internet connection for sometime. I don’t know what awaits on the other side of the runway. I am paying for internet. And it’s expensive. For Indonesian standards. But I wanted to live the total lifestyle of the jet-set. I want to play the role. Beach umbrellas, coffee, bread, fresh veg salad, chocolate cake, and internet. I’m worth it.

I confess. It’s Italian espresso. Not Balinese Kopi. I know it’s hurting the local farmers and economy. I know it’s contributing to global warming (it’s presumably flown in not brought by boat). I know. This is the last for a while… promise.

A few last bits and bobs. How will it all fit into my backpack? I’m doubtful. But that’s not on the top of my to-do list. It will get done. Tomorrow I am on the plane, in route to a new home. Coming to Bali was a cultural adventure. Going to Flores, will be perhaps more so.