Arrival in Bali after a few years away

I think of the many, many times I’ve made this same trip, over 20 certainly, waiting in a plane on a Ngurah Rai airstrip to begin my stay in Bali. Always before, as the plane landed, as it rolled to a stop, as I bounced impatiently on my toes waiting for the plane door to swing wide, as I ran down the airport corridor to get into the line at customs, as I picked up my luggage, declining the help of the ever-eager porters, as I changed a little money to have something in my pocket, as I careened my luggage cart outside, and as I scanned the crowd for my ride, I was so excited I could barely breathe, my heart pounding, ecstatic at the first whiff of the clove cigarettes that signaled I was in Bali.

This time wasn't like that. I'm not sure why. After 14 years going back and forth to Bali, two of those years living there and struggling with the sometimes unfathomable obstacles of doing business, and after seeing friends both in Bali and America struggle with their inter-cultural Western/Balinese relationships, maybe it’s because my last illusions are gone. But I prefer to think it’s because I have become so comfortable here it is a lot like home, warts and all – it’s lost the lure of the unexpected and the foreign. It's the longest I've ever been away... before it was never longer than six months, usually less. This time it has been 3 years. Maybe I'm just happier in the States than I used to be.

There was a time Bali pulled me as the earth does the moon. Now I find that irresistible pull to spend a great part of each year in Bali is gone. Before making this trip, I had even toyed with skipping Bali all together - going to a Mexican beach for relaxation, or India for excitement or Greece for both – I sigh when I remember the blue and white landscapes, the conviviality, the history, the sensuality of Greece. Yes, there was an appeal in going someplace other than Bali – a place where I am unknown, where I have no past, where there are no constantly prying eyes, no gossip about every move I make. I've become so indescribably bored with that... high school sophomore year all over again.

I have a friend with a more intense history with Bali than my own, who has also lost her rose-colored glasses. But we both agree we will always go back. “Once Bali becomes part of you, you have to check in every once in awhile,” she says. Usually the most important truths are quite simple – and she’s hit it exactly. I’m here not for excitement but to check in with people and places that have become part of me. And of course, I’m here for ‘Tut. After so many years, it’s time to move forward or move on.