This photo is not Syria
Neither is Afghanistan
Bali
Where I was born
Where I grew up and grew up
The place where I study and learn about love and affection
And I’m not alone
There are millions of people who were born, live and work to earn a fortune on this island.
Bali is our home.
We live peacefully side by side.
And that night the house was shattered with the death knell and the cries of those in pain.
Around 10 pm on October 11, 2002, together with 3 of my cousins, we took my best friend who had just arrived from Jakarta.
After dinner, we walked through Seminyak until we arrived at Legian, I became their driver.
In a traffic jam accompanied by the sound of music from restaurants and clubs along the way, my best friend said, “Let’s go to the bar,” while pointing to the Sari Club, a restaurant and nightclub full of tourists.
I replied, “This place is for tourists only, we local girls don’t like going in there and I don’t think we can either.” And we decided to continue our journey to ByPass Street before returning home.
24 hours later, Legian’s cheerful face turned into a hideous pit.
Building destroyed. The explosion was heard up to a radius of tens of kilometers. 202 died horribly, hundreds were injured and even disabled for life.
The next day at 6 am, the five of us decided to come. Police lines from hundreds of metres away were installed. Body parts were scattered among the charred vehicles. The smell of burning and black bodies piled up in the corner of the shop I used to visit.
My defences are falling
I sat limply on the sidewalk.
My heart is broken.
One question popped up in my mind, “How is Bali after this tragedy?”
One of the survivors was a good friend of mine who was there to pick up his nephew.
His face was crushed, his whole body melted in flames. I still remember that morning when I saw her in the hospital and she said, “Amy, get me a glass, it’s so hot Amy what happened Amy where’s the glass Amy what’s our fault Amy?”
We were in tears and while fanning his face and holding back sobs I said, “Be patient, dear, we’ll go for a walk again, you’ll get better soon.”
He underwent dozens of operations. Her sweet face has returned but the trauma has not gone away.
Until today.
Every time we meet, we don’t say much. Just a hug so tight and tears flowing again.
How about Bali?
Bali’s economy is in shambles, tourism, which has been one of Bali’s main sources of income, has declined sharply, as have the related sectors.
But Bali is strong.
The people who hold fast to the teachings of the Dharma and sincerely surrender to the Almighty. They rose from adversity and reorganised their ravaged homeland.
When it started to recover, October 1, 2005 Bali was rocked again by bomb explosions.
Bali, which is known as an island that respects tolerance and diversity, is falling apart again
Are we angry?
Of course.
Are we grieving?
The wound that had not yet healed opened again gaping
But we surrender.
We believe the trials we receive are to strengthen and mature us.
And we move on with our lives.
Natural disasters, human tragedies and the greed of a few humans did not melt us. Dharma and compassion are the basis of our every thought, word and statement.
Bali is global.
Bali was dubbed the Morning of the World by Jawaharlal Nehru during his visit in 1954.
Bali is home to children from all over the archipelago.
And if we don’t take care of it, who will?
Bali has been grieving
The stigma that Bali is an island of immorality makes a few irresponsible people feel entitled to decide that we must be “cleaned up”.
And that stigma has come to the surface again, spoken by fellow countrymen who probably don’t know us but brand our entire island as a den of prostitution.
I will not allow my homeland to be the target of your abominations, to be ridiculed by your petty thoughts that finally invite those who don’t understand to justify.
I will continue to speak even if the sky falls.
Because the way I am grateful and grateful to God who has attached that life to my body is by maintaining the dignity of my homeland and everything in it.
In 2002, Frances was working as a recovery nurse at Royal Darwin Hospital. On October 12, she woke to the news there had been an explosion in Bali.
“You never forget,” she said.
Twenty six hours after the blasts, patients began arriving at RDH.
“I remember the first patient I got, he was an engineer who was only 30.
“When he woke from surgery he asked me what had happened; he had lost his arm.
“His wallet and phone had come through with him, and I could see all these heartbreaking messages asking where he was and if he had survived.”
About 600 RDH staff were deployed to the hospital to assist in treating patients that had been evacuated from Denpasar to Darwin.
“The initial patients coming through didn’t have names – they were given code names and we started treatment as quickly as possible,” Frances said.
“You just get to work and do what needs to be done.”
Frances said the wards were filled with patients.
“There were patients everywhere, we just had to make space.
“There was a real sense of teamwork – everyone worked as one to help each other, it really was all hands on deck.”
Twenty years on, Frances says the hospital response still says with her.
“Every time I go to talk about it, it’s still very much there. You move on, but it’s always there; you never forget.”
On the 20th anniversary of the Bali Bombings, we pay tribute to those who lost their life, those who survived, and those whose lives were forever changed.