If COVID-19 never happened I would be frolickling along the Taj Majal and eating mango chutney in India right about now. But sadly, that’s not the case. My original plan was to travel to India, Sri Lanka, and Nepal after my time in Indonesia. I would then move to Melbourne, Australia for a year or two on the working holiday visa. I’d rent a van with new friends and drive up the golden coast with not a care in the world and the wind in our hair. But no. Instead I’m back in my childhood home with the parents, reminiscing on the good ol’ days.
I was in Malaysia in March when COVID-19 started spreading from China to the rest of the world. To be honest, it really didn’t feel like that big of a deal when I was there. The local media wasn’t really covering Corona in the same way as in the US, so people weren’t as spooked.
The only restrictions at that time were some temperature scanners at the border. When I later traveled to Singapore there were some extra temperature scanners at the entrances to the subway and to shopping centers. But still no masks, no social distancing, and no panic. It really seemed like everything was going to blow over soon, so I continued on my travels as if nothing was happening.
My original plan was to fly to Jakarta, Indonesia and slowly make my way through the islands to Bali. But I heard of possible local transportation closures and didn’t want to get stuck on a smaller island; so I changed my flight and flew directly to Bali instead.
The hostel I stayed at in Canggu, Slumber Party, was packed and people were partying as usual. I even filmed a guy taking a body shot on top of the bar and posting it to my Instagram.
I thought it was a joke, and everyone around me did too. There were barely any reported cases in Bali so we went out to crowded bars and beach clubs and thought nothing of it. For about four days I enjoyed the beauty and parties Bali had to offer…but soon things started to change.
Rumors started circling of a shutdown but most places still seemed open. So on my fifth night a group of us went out to the bars (Old Mans and Sand Bar for all you Bali vets). Little did I know it at the time, but that would be the last night I was freely around so many foreign, sweaty, and maskless randos.
The next day places slowly started to close down, one by one. Bars and beach clubs shut their doors and a majority of restaurants did too. Europe’s number of cases were exponentially growing and there was a general feel of unease for everyone around me. All anyone could talk about was Corona and whether they were flying back home or sticking it out in Bali. I decided to stay since I didn’t think the shutdown would last longer than a month…oh what I would do to be so young and naive again.
That last night I went out I happened to get into a pretty bad motorbike accident with a Dutch guy I had met 10 minutes before (story coming soon on how I split my knee open and spent 12 hours in the hospital).
Even after my accident and stitches, I was still so convinced I wasn’t going home. Everyone who decided to stay rented out villas together since the hostels were pretty emptied out. I moved into a lovely villa with the Dutch guy (Nigel) and his cousin/ cousins friends in Seminyak and was healing my knee there. They were also all convinced they were staying as they rented out the villa for the next month.
**Apologies for the subsequent photos…they are all cropped screenshots taken from my Instagram stories because I lost all my photos from Indonesia 🙁 **
In the days that followed we still found open places to eat and went to some villa parties of friends on the island. Shoutout to Sus, Kiki, and Julia 🙂 Things were still relatively relaxed and we were excited to have Bali to ourselves since no new tourists were allowed in.
Typically a packed beach
We made all these plans to explore Ubud and Nusa Penida as soon as my leg healed up. But sadly those plans never came to fruition. On March 25th there is a Hindu holiday in Bali called Nyepi where no electricity is allowed and foreigners aren’t allowed outside. Tourists are barred from going into town or even on the streets. So we stocked up on food and spent the day playing cards and chilling by the pool. The next day the government of Indonesia announced they would extend the holiday, which was unprecedented. Another day of doing nothing…but doing nothing in a Balinese villa so I still wasn’t complaining. We assumed it was because of Corona and the government was trying to decide what to do. They later announced that beaches, tourist sites, and bars would shut for the indefinite future. The government shut the borders to outside tourists and my friends who did want to return home kept having flight cancelations. The US government then put out a notice stating that anyone overseas should return home as it’s not guaranteed there would be available flights in the future. All of the sudden I was starting to feel very… trapped.
I was worried the shutdown could go on for a lot longer than a month and I would be spending all of my remaining funds hiding out in a villa waiting for my knee to heal (which honestly sounds pretty good right about now, but in the moment it felt like a waste). I couldn’t even go in the ocean or pool because of my open wound. So whats a girl to do? Get a tattoo of course! I first found this art work as a mural in Laos and I later asked my German friend to sketch it. Months later I finally got it in Bali. So it feels like a very international permanent memento of my trip.
But soon the dutchies in my villa, one by one, decided to go. The Dutch government sent emails in the day stating there would be repatriation planes coming to get them and if they don’t board those planes, there is no guarantee they’ll be able to return to the Netherlands. That same night the planes arrived. So Nigel, who had been by my side during this whole ordeal, had to pack his things and say goodbye in a matter of hours. I was pretty dang sad to be honest. The next day his cousin went home too and suddenly I was left alone in the villa.
I paid Nigels cousin the security deposit on the villa so I could take over and not have to move. I asked my friend Julia to move in but there were still 2 rooms open. Nigel’s cousin ended up finding this super random middle aged Russian lady from some Facebook group to move in. She gave off the worst vibes and Julia and I felt a bit uncomfortable living with her. She yelled at us for playing music at 8pm and tried to have us pay all the electric bill when she used just as much utilities as we did. Overall she was unpleasant and strange and it just made things worse.
But I was STILL convinced I was going to stay…I couldn’t accept that Corona was going to ruin my big trip. Julia and I made new plans to scuba dive with manta rays as soon as my stitches came out. Unfortunately, I got an infection in my knee before that was possible. My stitches got taken out far too early so my wound just opened up in a festering disgusting knee hole. It did NOT look good. I went back to the doctor and he claimed it was a minor infection and put on topical antibiotic ointment. He thought it would go away on its own and I ignorantly believed him. The next day I needed to get out of the villa so I took some pain pills, wrapped up my knee, and managed to limp my way onto a motorbike (perhaps not the best judgement on my part but I was going stir crazy). Julia and I planned a day trip to Uluwatu to mix things up. I was using my phone to map us there but we ended up getting a bit turned around so I pulled over to check my phone and just like that…my phone was gone. A guy in a motorbike drove by and swiped my phone in a matter of seconds. He somehow managed to unplug my headphones in the process. So at least I still have those valuable $4 babies.
We detoured from Uluwatu and instead went to the police station in the 0.005% chance the police had street cameras and could track the license plate of the motorbike who stole my phone. Yeahhhh that went exactly as assumed. So we went back to the villa, defeated and annoyed. Thankfully, I brought an old backup iPhone with me in case mine was stolen. Past Tam always has future Tams back (emoji with sunglasses).
Later that day I took a nap on the couch and when I woke up there was A RAT, I repeat, A RAT right next to my precious face. Truly inches away. It made me jerk my poor knee so I was not only fearful for my life but in immense pain. Julia graciously brought me a glass of wine to calm down but then I thought I saw the rat again so I spazzed and broke the f*cking wine glass on my knee. Now shattered glass and wine is everywhere, including in my knee wound. I spent way too long finding tiny pieces of glass on the floor and couch before I just gave in to the universe. It was trying to tell me something…go home.
After a lot of pro and con lists I decided it was finally my time to go. With a majority of my friends gone, an infected knee, rando Russian lady, no phone, rats, and broken glass… I realized I needed to just give up. I called my parents and we booked an overpriced flight back to LA through South Korea, one of the only cities allowing Americans to transit. I was incredibly emotional on the car ride to the airport as my driver asked me all about my travels. My voice cracked as I reminisced on the most amazing 10 months of my life in SE Asia.
When I arrived at the airport I wasn’t able to carry my backpack due to the fact that I could barely walk. So my taxi driver carried my pack to the check in desk for me as I slowly limped behind him. After I tipped him with all the Indonesian rupiah I had left, the airline assigned me a docent who would push my wheelchair for me. My leg was extremely swollen and had an open infected wound site so I couldn’t bend it at all. The woman at the check in desk told me I was all set except for my doctor’s note that cleared me to fly. I didn’t know this was a requirement so I had to be pushed in my wheelchair to the airport doctors office (which I never knew existed btw). The doctor wanted to open up my bandages to check on my knee so I had to lie and say that I just got the stitches. I don’t think you can fly with an active infection and I needed him to clear me or I was royally f*cked.
Luckily, I got the declaration and was wheeled through security and to my gate. While waiting to board I realized I should probably change my knee bandages before the long flight. So I wheeled into the handicapped stall and chuckled to myself as I was actually using this bathroom correctly for the first time in my life. I then had to shamelessly sit on the floor to take off my bandages. I saw there were some leftover stitches coming to the surface so I played operator on myself, removed them, and bandaged it back up.
Other than everyone staring at me, being in a wheelchair was a pretty fantastic way of getting through the airport. I got to skip security lines and I boarded the plane first! Thankfully, the plane was half full so I had a whole row to myself and was able to stretch out my leg on the seats.
After a 30 hour travel day including a 9 hour layover in Seoul (where I bought $70 worth of Korean skincare to cope), I finally arrived in LA. Another wheelchair ride through U.S customs (who by the way asked me 0 questions about Corona and didn’t even take my temperature) and I was back in my moms mini van. She gave me an air hug and my first mask to wear as she drove me right to the hospital. She wasn’t allowed inside so she waited in the parking lot for hours as I received some quality medical care for the first time in a long time.
I got all the antibiotics and bandages I would need and I was FINALLY on my way home. Instead of enjoying my first time back in the states in almost a year, I had to change my clothes in the garage, mask up, and immediately go shower. Then my 2 week quarantine in my room began…and so did the tears of a trip put to rest.
My 23rd birthday was also spent within the confines of my room as my quarantine was still underway. Overall it was a tragically sad way to say goodbye to a trip I had worked so hard to make happen. But in the end, I am glad I came home when I did. My knee is finally doing better (except for the gross purple lobster shaped scar) and I was able to save up some money again; thanks govt for the unemployment! Although it really seems like this Covid world will never end, I am going to get back out there as soon as borders open. I can promise you that much!
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