Journal of Journeys

I had spent five days of heaven in Bali when we strolled through Poppies Lane, where the backpackers from all over the world stayed. It is a very Western look there, when all the Bule, Indonesian’s apellation for Western tourists, just walked topless and enjoyed the bright sun. Me and my two friends, we were girls, planned to buy some clothes and handmade souvenirs there. When we passed by a group of the seller, they shouted “Azizah.. Azizah, come here..” I didn’t even understand what they meant by calling us like that until we heard someone yelled, “Allahu Akbar!”, at us and whispered something to his friends then they all did the insulting laugh. Then I realized. My two friends wore veil because they were Muslims. The people in Bali still memorized Bali Bombing Incident, worst act of terror in Indonesia's history. --- I felt comfortable with the culture and hospitality of Balinese in the whole past days, from Denpasar to Bedugul, every place that we attended. All of that and them. But in fact, there was still a regret in their heart when they recalled that day, when their land exploded by unresponsible people and they have lost their family, even their pride as a peaceful land. I can not blamed them. I can not blamed my friends. And we can not blamed all The Moslems too. No. --- That day I closed my day by visiting Ground Zero, Bali Bombing Memorial that was built as a remembrans for all the people, all the good people who killed that day, that day when the difference is not an asset. Few people was standing there, put the white roses and prayed. The dusk has arrived. The wind blowed calm and quiet. May the soul rest in peace.