A long way from home

The call to prayer slowly seeped into my consciousness; drawing me in to the morning. The melodic and haunting chant now filling my room reminded me I was a long way from home. I felt I was a long time from home.
A day earlier I had travelled to my accommodation on the island of Gili Air aboard a brightly painted horse and carriage. The ‘cidomo’ peeling and cracked from years of exposure to salty air and baking heat was driven by an unhurried, silent and aging man unwilling to share his perceived duty to load my baggage despite my protestation. Trundling into the village we passed clusters of cows huddled in the shade beneath towering palms and a group of smiling children riding bikes barefoot; the gentle chiming of the horse’s bell mingling with their laughter. As I wandered down the path to my temporary home peace emanated, my footsteps the only disturbance to the butterflies in residence.
Now Gili had given its wake up call I would explore the clear waters surrounding this tiny island. As I clambered onto the small wooden boat I brushed past a young man hastily bailing out the water that had seeped in around the domestic window now in use as the ‘glass bottom’ for our vessel. Our destination only a few minutes away between GIli Air and neighbouring GIli Meno.
Plunging into the cerulean water I now understood the genuine sorrow upon my guide’s face as he explained he could not enter the water during Ramadan, a precaution against any seawater entering his body. Enveloped in silence I floated over cliff edges of coral teeming with life. A larger shape emerged and moved closer, our eyes meeting, curious. As it glided beneath me I reached out, my fingertips brushing the hard, slippery shell.A sea turtle rose to the surface to take a breath then submerged beside me; unthreatened by my presence in his kingdom. Seeming almost like an invitation I followed close behind as he drifted gracefully down to nibble on something amongst the coral and up towards the surface again, exposing his pale underside and glancing occasionally at his strange companion.Before finally demonstrating his speed and leaving me to notice again the schools of colour around me; reeling from my encounter.
That evening as the call to prayer echoed through the dusk, punctuating the day, it was interspersed by the gecko’s song. I wondered if this sunset chorus was in thanks, a celebration of the day, and I took a moment to pause in the noise as I was sure there was much to be thankful for.