After the joyful greetings, my sister asked if I would like to head to the hostel and sleep before exploring Kuta. The adrenaline that comes from a sense of adventure chased away any exhaustion I felt. I was eager to cannonball into this metaphorical pool of new experiences.
My sister led me to their waiting cab. They already knew of the high airport taxi rates, and found a driver from the city that was kind enough to wait for us. I noticed others that were also on my flight begin to file into their own rides. Each of us ready to begin. During the ride away from the airport, I was quiet. All my answers to my sister’s questions were short. I wanted to take everything in. Eyes as wide as my open mind. I noticed motorcycles and mopeds weaving between cars to get ahead of the traffic. Even a few vans tried this.
But, what was most surprising, while on these seemingly busy roads, were the lack of traffic lights. I began to notice more and more that the only reason our taxi driver would slow was because of his attempt at cutting across several lanes to reach a certain exit. Three-way intersections boggled my mind as it seemed that to drive here depended on others kindness and your own strong will to get yourself where you need to go. I can say in all my time on those roads, amidst the chaotic flow of speeding traffic, I never saw a single accident; though there were many a close call.
Finally we reached a street closest to the hostel. Upon exiting the taxi, I was met with a Nike store. This would be one of many realizations of just how far the influence of back home can reach. Shaking my head, I had gone there to get away, after all, I followed my family across a pause in traffic.
The hostel was sandwiched between buildings on either side. Though, to its credit, it had many floors. A department store faced our building, and a cafe nuzzled against it on one side. No building was so tall, yet it was dense with an organized layout. Each building was its own, despite the close proximity. Each had its own character. I would come to love the ice teas from the neighboring cafe. Real sugar, not corn based, tasted so good.
The lobby of where we would be staying for few nights was more narrow than wide. A small tv hung from a wall, across from a thin wooden table, with a water dispenser and vending machine tucked just underneath it. The front desk attendant kindly acknowledged us as we climbed the narrow wooden staircase. Each floor had the same layout. Upon reaching the top of the floor’s stairs, the common bedroom was ahead behind a sliding door. With toilets and showers being around the left corner, just before another staircase lead up to the next floor.
In bold red and black font, with accompanying pictures, a sign was placed on the sliding door for the common bed area. No animals, no food, and no sex. It being a shared space with nine other people, I could understand the importance of this. But, having an active imagination, I was already picturing how those three rules may be broken. Of course, they wouldn’t be. The possibilities can’t help but cross the mind.
Six bunk beds, two beds tall, lined both the left and right walls. Each bed came with a small wooden safe that was built into the side and a shelving area with an outlet and controls for the individual bunk’s light. A somewhat thin sliding curtain was all the privacy one could hope for. I deposited my things and laid down just for a moment. I am laying down on a bed on the other side of the world from my own, I thought.
Before tiredness could set in, I quickly got up and decided to inspect the toilet situation and shower. My sister had warned me beforehand that many places stationed a bidet rather than the set up I was familiar with. To my great pleasure, I would be having a smooth transition; I found some familiarity. The showers were quite narrow though seemed to be functional. I would learn the next morning, not to put all of my weight in the center of the wooden shower floor. Again my active imagination played terrible tricks on me as the wood would groan. Nor would it be advisable to peer into the cracks and spaces between the boards.
Becoming situated, my family decided it was time to show me the ocean. It was a short walk, but I was able to gather that the area we were staying in heavily catered to tourists. There were many familiar brand names. I refused to even look at Mcdonald's for more than a second. But, just after five minutes, I was faced with a decorated archway, that broke up a beautifully carved and weathered wall, that lead out to clean sand and the vastness of the Indian Ocean. I was in awe how clear it all looked. Coming from Chicago, I would have been okay with seeing some trash. But, there was hardly any. The amount present was sparse and few in between. This was indeed a tourist hotspot. The variety of individuals I had seen filled me with wonder and somehow even more excitement. So many different cultures in one place.
It would not be my time yet to go swimming. So, we just walked along the beach until we grew hungry. We came to find ourselves eating pancakes just across the street from the beach. With bellies full and eager feet, my family decided we should explore that nearby department store. Its layout was rather extensive. The side facing our hostel began with produce, of which we would frequent often. But, beyond it was more of a souvenir shop on the first floor. With each proceeding floor feeling more and more like a department store back home. There were electronics, clothing, and gifts. One of its exits leads out to that same street where our taxi had deposited us. I would learn over the coming days how nicely connected everything was.
It was night by the time we had finally finished exploring the nearby stores and restaurants. My feet had begun to pulse with soreness. It was a nice alternative to having them cramped on multiple flights. As we settled into our bunks, my sister reminded me the benefits of bug spray. She had plenty of examples for the need of such repellents, and she had now problem telling me all of them. One such example took place in a similar hostel, with similar sleeping arrangements. She had put ample amounts on herself. But, the individual above her had not. During the night, she could see many bed bugs crawling just above her. She wasn’t bitten, but the same could not be said of the others who hadn’t taken the same precautions come morning.
Appropriately sprayed, I laid again on that unfamiliar bed. Sleep found me while my imagination played out the endless possibilities the next day could hold. It was then that the exhaustion finally took hold.
