Where Palm Trees Make Way for Pines

Growing up in Padang Bai


I live in Bali.

Sometimes I forget that- like the way you forget that you have a spleen, or that a large percentage of the population has never watched Dirty Dancing.

Driving home from work, it will hit me- I’m looking at palm trees. It’s February and there’s no snow on the ground. That conversation I just had was in Bahasa.


It’s when I realize that the foreign has become familiar that it really sinks in. This country has taught me so many things about life that I now take entirely for granted. I’d like to share a few of my favourites.

Driving past a group of fierce looking local boys, hanging out in front of a local warung, I fully expect their faces to turn to me and break into a row of warm, flirtatious grins.

When I pass by an Ibu carrying 85ilbs of cement building blocks on top of her ancient head, I know that a smile, a nod and a softly spoken, “Sore, ‘Bu,” (“Afternoon, Mother,”) will be rewarded with a proud presentation of five perfect teeth.

I have learned to expect that a beep of my bike horn will not make a Bali dog get out of my way, but that barking wildly will make a pack scatter from the street.

That a laundry lady you can trust is worth her weight in gold.

That taxi drivers chorusing, “Taksi, taksi!”, who frequently annoy visitors, are often just lonely or curious and always appreciate a conversation as much as they do a paying customer.

That good quality alcohol is a luxury most of the world cannot afford, right up there with fine dark chocolate, cheese, and anything electronic beginning with an “I”.

That modifying an order at a restaurant is absolutely never worth the confusion that will ensue. Trust me on this. The craving you have for extra cheese might cost you an extra hour of your life.

But I have also learned that a people who were alien to me a year ago can quickly become neighbours.

That the passage of days bend and warp until you cannot recall a time when you lived in another place. That accents blur, memories fade, and it quickly becomes difficult to fathom a land where strangers faces don’t always bloom into smiles and where palm trees make way for pines.


A random happy face left behind on a coaster by the condensation on my water glass