The warm air of Bali greeted their steps as soon as they disembarked from the ship. The scent of the sea still lingered, mixed with the gentle breeze and the sound of vehicles leaving Gilimanuk harbor. Riri wiped the sweat from her forehead, Marlon glanced around, and Romo nodded slowly towards a simple eatery that looked not far from the harbor gate.
"Looks like we need to eat first. I'm really hungry," Riri said, patting her stomach gently.
"Yeah, maybe it can calm my head too," Marlon replied. "My thoughts were all mixed up on the ship."
"Agreed," Romo chimed in briefly.
They walked along the small sidewalk towards a simple-looking food stall with wooden walls and a zinc roof, but from within wafted the savory aroma of nasi campur (mixed rice) and grilled fish.
As they approached, a middle-aged woman wearing a kebaya (traditional blouse) and an apron smiled warmly, welcoming them from behind the stall's counter.
"Come in, come in first, children," she said warmly. "Studying requires a lot of energy. Eat first, so you'll be strong."
The three of them immediately exchanged glances. Riri frowned.
"Wait… Ibu, do you know we're here to study?" Riri asked, stepping inside slowly.
The Ibu's smile remained on her face. "Well… young people who come all the way to Bali usually aren't just here for vacation. Usually, those who come here are looking for something… knowledge, or self-identity."
Marlon swallowed. "Do you often meet people like us, Ibu?"
The Ibu chuckled softly, then pointed to the corner table near the window. "Come on, sit down first. I'll bring the food later. Nasi campur and iced orange juice, yes?"
They exchanged glances again, but finally complied. They sat down without asking many questions, trying to think rationally, even though their instincts weren't entirely calm.
Not five minutes after they sat down, an old man wearing a traditional Balinese headdress and loose white clothes approached. He looked ordinary, but as he got closer, his eyes held something difficult to explain.
"Welcome to Bali," he said softly with a smile. "Later in Denpasar, someone will be waiting for you."
Marlon sat up straight. "Excuse me, who are you, Bapak?"
The man didn't answer directly, only smiled and looked at Romo. "Sometimes the answer comes even before we know the question. Your path has been written, just follow it."
Riri murmured, almost inaudibly. "This… is starting to get weird."
Before any further questions could be asked, the man simply walked away, blending in with several other visitors who came and went. As if nothing had happened.
"This is like… what happened on the ship earlier," Marlon whispered. "Why does everyone know we're going to Denpasar?"
Romo didn't answer. He looked out the warung window, gazing at the sky that was beginning to turn orange.
"Either this is strange, or perhaps… this is how it's supposed to be," he said softly. "Maybe, something bigger is at work."
The food arrived, its steam carrying warmth. But in their silence, the strangeness still hung in the air, like a sign that their journey in Bali had just begun—and it wasn't an ordinary one.
After eating, they didn't leave immediately. Three empty plates of nasi campur and three glasses of iced orange juice remained on the table, leaving traces of full stomachs and unresolved thoughts. The wind from the sea carried the salty aroma and the smell of diesel from the large ships still docked. The sound of truck horns, hawkers' cries, and the hurried steps of passengers created a symphony typical of a harbor: lively, noisy, and never truly still.
The small eatery where they ate was on the side of the road that led directly to the exit of Gilimanuk Harbor. From their table, they could see the traffic of vehicles from Java that had just disembarked from the ferry. Some truck drivers ate hastily while still keeping an eye on their vehicles. Small children ran around carrying plastic bags filled with drinks and candy, offering them to anyone who looked tired.
However, amidst all the commotion, there was a strange stillness. As if behind all the noise, something was silently watching them.
"I'm still thinking about what happened earlier," Riri said, stirring the remnants of her iced orange juice. "Why did the Ibu at the warung know we came here to study?"
"And that old man…" Marlon chimed in, his eyes still fixed on the direction the mysterious man had disappeared. "He said someone would be waiting for us in Denpasar. Even though we haven't told anyone."
Romo leaned back in his plastic chair, his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm not sure if it's a coincidence. But I also don't dare say it's some kind of sign. But clearly, Bali is welcoming us… in its own way."
"I feel… strange but not scared. More like… calm," Riri murmured, half-talking to herself. "It's been like… the nature here understands us since we arrived."
Marlon turned his head. "Understands us?"
"Yeah. Not like people understand what we mean, but like… this place knows we've come," Riri replied, staring blankly towards the harbor. "Like when we first got off the ship, the sea breeze was different. Like it was calling."
They fell silent for a moment. The sound of announcements from the harbor was faintly audible: the next ship's departure schedule, calls for bus drivers, baggage information.
"When I was little," Romo said softly, "I once heard a story from my religious teacher. He said that certain places in this world have a consciousness. They aren't living beings like us, but they have their own way of welcoming or rejecting human presence."
"Like some kind of… spirit of the place?" Marlon asked.
Romo nodded slowly. "You could say that. And those places usually hold a lot of history, a lot of stories embedded in their soil. Bali is one of them. Since ancient times, it has been a meeting place between the human world and the unseen world."
"If that's the case… why are we being welcomed?" Riri asked again. "Is it because we have the intention to learn? Or because we are indeed being sought by something here?"
"I don't know," Marlon leaned back. "But I feel like all of this isn't a coincidence. From the mysterious man on the ship, the Ibu at the warung, to the old man earlier. It's like they know more than we do."
At the next table, a truck driver was laughing loudly with his friend. In the corner of the warung, a small child was teasing a cat that was sleeping lazily under the table. A boiled peanut vendor passed by, offering his wares to every customer who looked relaxed.
The atmosphere of the harbor was still busy, but for Riri, Marlon, and Romo, everything felt a little slower. The world seemed to give them space to digest all the events that had just transpired.
"If you ask me," Romo said, "Bali isn't just about a place. But about a search. Many people come here not just because it's beautiful, but because it's deep. There are many things we can find beneath the beauty of its nature."
Marlon looked at the sky that was beginning to turn yellow. "And maybe… this is just the beginning."
The three of them fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts. The atmosphere of the harbor remained bustling, but for them, it was as if time had briefly stopped. Bali's welcome didn't come with red carpets or fireworks, but through the whispers of nature, the presence of strangers, and coincidences that were too precise to be called coincidences.
"Let's walk slowly," Romo finally suggested. "We still have to go to Denpasar tonight."
"Yeah," Marlon replied. "But honestly, I feel like… we're not alone on this journey."
Riri smiled faintly. "Not alone, but also don't know who's with us."
They stood up, paid for their food, and stepped out of the warung. Their first steps on Balinese soil carried more than just backpacks and dusty shoes. They carried unanswered questions, and a feeling that the answers… might already be waiting at the end of the road.
The sun was already leaning towards the west as they left Gilimanuk. The sky was golden, as if Bali was indeed adorning itself to welcome their arrival. The car they were in drove slowly out of the harbor, following the national highway that bisected the western part of the island.
"I didn't expect this," Marlon said, leaning his head against the car window. "Just a few hours in Bali, but it feels like we've been given so many questions."
"Not just questions," Riri replied. "But also a sense of curiosity."
Outside the window, stretches of forest and coconut plantations alternately accompanied them. Occasionally, a small temple stood serenely by the side of the road, as if watching over their journey. An old man wrapped in traditional cloth passed by carrying offerings, followed by a small child carrying a basket filled with flowers and incense.
"The Island of the Gods," Romo murmured from the front seat. "A nickname that's not just about mythology. But about the way Balinese people live, how they interpret the world."
They passed through the West Bali National Park forest, witnessing thin mist beginning to descend from the hills. Lush trees shaded the narrow winding road, creating a mystical and serene impression at the same time. Several monkeys hung from branches, observing the passing cars with curiosity.
"I once read," Riri said, opening her digital notes, "Bali is called the Island of the Gods because of the people's belief in Hindu deities. But also because in the past, this island was believed to be a resting place for the gods."
"And what's interesting," Marlon added, "the name 'Bali Dwipa' has been recorded since the 9th century, even before the Majapahit era entered here."
Romo turned his head towards them. "Do you know that there used to be historical conflicts between Sunda and Bali? Not just political, but also cultural."
Riri nodded. "I read about that. There were traces of tension between the kingdoms in West Java and Bali, especially regarding territorial power and cultural views."
"Yes," Romo continued, "but what's most interesting is… even though there were conflicts, their local values persisted. Sundanese culture remained refined and gentle, while Bali remained strong with its beliefs and rituals. They once took different paths, but continued to coexist."
The car now entered the Jembrana area. Residents' houses began to appear closer together, with typical Balinese gates at each entrance. In the distance, Mount Batukaru stood majestically with its peak beginning to be covered by clouds.
"Try to imagine," Marlon said, "if the gods in that belief really lived here. What would they feel seeing modern humans come bringing technology, ego, and sometimes chaos?"
"In my opinion," Romo said softly, "they aren't angry. They are just observing. And sometimes, they send warnings through nature."
The car passed through Medewi Village, famous for its beach favored by surfers. Waves rolled onto the sand, and in the distance, the sun began to set. Several tourists sat on bamboo chairs, enjoying the beauty of the twilight sky.
"The sea in West Bali is also beautiful, but also deep," Riri said.
"Like Bali itself," Marlon chimed in. "We see it as beautiful, friendly, full of art. But inside, there's a long history, conflicts, strong beliefs, and many secrets."
The journey continued through Tabanan. Green terraced rice fields stretched like an open-air natural painting. Farmers carried their harvests, and mist began to envelop the rice fields. The scent of incense from small temples on the edge of the rice fields mingled with the damp earth and the evening breeze.
"Of all the regions in Indonesia I've ever visited," Marlon said, "Bali has its own flavor. Not just a tourist spot, but a place to ask questions."
Riri smiled faintly. "Maybe that's why many people come here when they're feeling lost."
Romo looked at the road that was beginning to darken, streetlights turning on one by one. "Bali is not a place to find answers. But a place to learn to understand the questions."
Finally, a sign "Welcome to Denpasar" greeted them. City lights began to radiate from the distance, buildings began to rise higher, and the flow of vehicles became denser. The atmosphere changed from calm to bustling, from contemplative to contrasting.
However, inside the car, they were still silent—each pondering a journey that was not just physical, but also spiritual.
And as the mysterious man had said earlier, perhaps someone was indeed waiting for them in Denpasar. Not a person, but a lesson. About life. About belief. And about how much they didn't understand—even in the land they could see directly with their own eyes.
Denpasar welcomed them with city lights that weren't too dazzling, but warm. The atmosphere was different from Jakarta or Bandung—slower, more humane. The streets were still busy that night, but not chaotic. Motorcycles and cars came and went, the sound of horns was heard, but not pressing. On the side of the road, there were traditional coffee stalls, sate lilit (minced fish satay) carts, and small kiosks selling incense, flowers, and typical Balinese sarongs.
Their car finally stopped in front of a small alley in the Panjer area, South Denpasar. That was where the simple boarding house they had contacted earlier through an online advertisement was located. It was a two-story building in a tropical house style, with touches of typical Balinese architecture. In front of the gate stood a man of medium build, wearing a black t-shirt and a Balinese batik sarong. His smile was friendly and his eyes were gentle.
"Welcome to Bali, youngsters!" the man greeted them in a deep but friendly voice. "I'm Komang. But just call me Bli Komang, to make it familiar."
Romo immediately shook his hand with a polite smile. "Thank you, Bli. We are the three who will be staying here for the next few weeks."
Bli Komang nodded. "Oh yes, I've prepared the rooms. One for the girl, the other two for the boys. All have a fan, a study table, and a private bathroom. Don't expect a hotel, okay? But it's guaranteed to be quiet and cool."
The three of them chuckled.
Marlon chimed in, "It's more suitable to stay in a kos, Bli. We're not here for a vacation."
"Oh?" Bli Komang looked curious. "If not for vacation, then… looking for something, right?"
Riri smiled. "We're doing research. About life, culture, and… human mysteries."
Bli Komang laughed softly. "Wow, that's quite a task. But it's fitting if you're looking for that in Bali. Many come here because of heartbreak, or wanting to know the meaning of life. Bali is like a mirror, sometimes giving answers through small things."
They then entered the kos area. The front yard was full of tropical plants: pandan, frangipani, and cherry trees whose fruits were scattered on the ground. In the corner of the yard, there was a small pelinggih (family shrine) decorated with canang sari—offerings of flowers, food, and incense.
The sound of trickling water from a small pond fountain near the stairs was soothing. The kos was indeed simple, but the atmosphere was full of tranquility. The smell of incense mixed with the night air made them feel like they had entered a meditation room.
After putting down their belongings, they sat together on the kos terrace while enjoying warm tea provided by Bli Komang.
"Bli," Marlon asked dreamily, "why is it, as soon as I arrived in Bali, I felt like… it's easier to think clearly?"
Bli Komang looked at the sky. "Because this land is guarded by prayers. Every day there are small ceremonies, every step is accompanied by intention. This land is not just a place to live, but a place to worship."
Romo nodded slowly. "I can feel it. The nature here seems to speak. There's an energy that's hard to explain."
"You see the small temples in every house, right?" Bli Komang said, pointing to the pelinggih. "That's not just a symbol, but our way of remembering that life isn't just about us. There's something bigger than us. Nature, ancestors, and God."
Riri bit her lip for a moment before speaking, "Bali is like another world. Tradition and modernity walk hand in hand."
"Yes," Bli Komang replied. "Out there people talk about technology, here people still believe in auspicious days, wind direction, and the meaning of flowers."
The sound of gamelan music was faintly audible from a distance. The night was getting late, but it felt alive. Occasionally, a dog barked. Then silence again. The three of them exchanged glances.
"I'm sure," Marlon said slowly, "if we live too long in big cities, we forget how to listen. But here… nature teaches us to be still and listen."
Bli Komang patted Marlon's shoulder with a laugh, "That's a sign that you've entered the Balinese atmosphere. Your heart is starting to blend with the land."
Romo closed his eyes for a moment. "Hopefully Bali can provide more than just tranquility. But also understanding."
Bli Komang stood up and straightened his sandals. "Go to sleep first. Tomorrow morning try taking a walk to the market or the nearest temple. Bali will introduce itself through small things. But only if you want to see with the eyes of your heart."
As they entered their respective rooms, that night felt like the beginning of something. Not just a physical journey, but a spiritual one. And that small kos, with the scent of frangipani and incense, became the starting point of what would be an important chapter in their lives.
Night had fallen again in Denpasar. The tropical breeze gently rustled the leaves in their kos courtyard. The faint aroma of incense from the afternoon offerings still lingered, mixed with the damp earthy scent after a brief drizzle just before dusk. In the distance, the chirping of night insects echoed, like an ancient song repeating from age to age.
Riri, Romo, and Marlon sat on the kos terrace, each with a glass of warm tea and a piece of thought yet to be shared. The porch light glowed dimly, making their shadows dance slightly on the wall.
Unexpectedly, Marlon spoke, his voice soft and heavy.
"Something I read once, while researching Indonesian history… has been on my mind. It's rarely discussed. Even in Bali."
Riri glanced over, curious. "What is it?"
Marlon stared blankly at the sky. "In 1965, after the G30S incident, many regions in Indonesia experienced turmoil… But in Bali, the mass killings were incredibly brutal. I read in a book that Bali, known for its peace and spirituality, actually had one of the highest numbers of victims compared to other regions."
Romo frowned. "I've heard something about that too. But the details were never clear. It's too silent… As if those voices were buried with their bodies."
Marlon nodded. "Yeah. In Bali, many residents were accused of being communist sympathizers, whether true or not… They were hunted, killed, sometimes mutilated. Mass graves are scattered in many places, some even beneath rice fields that are fertile now."
"And what's even more heartbreaking," he continued, "the killings weren't just by the military. But also between citizens. Brother killed brother. Neighbors betrayed each other. It wasn't just a political tragedy, but a humanitarian one that tore at the soul."
Riri shook her head slowly, as if in disbelief. "But looking at Bali now… it's peaceful, spiritual, full of prayer and art. It's hard to imagine it was once so bloodily dark."
Romo looked down. "It shows one thing… Human goodness can turn into savagery under certain conditions. If the narrative of truth is held by only one side, and people no longer think… then hatred can become justified."
The atmosphere suddenly fell silent.
Marlon took a deep breath. "I once read the historical reports. From the accounts of historians like Geoffrey Robinson and the testimonies of witnesses that were recorded in NGO archives. They mentioned areas like Klungkung, Bangli, and Buleleng, which were the main locations of the killings. In fact, many victims' families are still silent to this day. Afraid, or feeling it's a wound better left buried."
Riri hugged her knees. "Maybe… that's also why Bali has such a strange energy. Peaceful, but in its silence it's like it holds an old wound."