It was the last day of June 2013.
I was full of excitement as a teen.
Waiting for my Sriwijaya flight at the Nicolau Lobato Airport in Dili.
With a mind of a wanderer, I asked, “Would this trip be a jolly?”.
Later the flight came and I went ahead in a tremble along the departure gate.
I got on the airplane; a beautiful air hostess with red dress greeted me.
She had the most beautiful smile of the day.
I showed her my boarding pass; she guided me to my seat.
I sat contently yet carefully paying attention instead.
Another air hostess was demonstrating the flight safety guide.
After an hour, the plane left the ground and started to take off. My heart jumped.
‘I am flying high!’ my mind exclaimed.
It was my first trip from Dili to Jakarta.
There is a short transit at Ngurah Rai airport of Denpasar in Bali.
That was also my first time to see Bali, although just at a glance.
Down there, I saw Bali’s beautiful blue sea with the white cliffs.
The red-brown houses formed like beads.
They spread over a huge green carpet of its green field.
A very long bridge shaped a curvy line over the sea.
How I wondered to explore those places one day.
“Oh, how wonderful isn’t it?” myself said.
I had heard about Bali since I was a child in 1990s.
People said that Bali is an island of gods, a paradise for tourists.
That time, I wish that one day I too could visit Bali, as a tourist.
I wanted to see the gods. I wanted to enjoy being at its paradise.
Finally, my wish did come true. Even though only for an instance.
Vitalia Ze, Dili-Bali-Jakarta, 30 June 2013.