Homesick got the blues

"Happy Independence Day!"
We were five Bangladeshis, two Indonesians and one Singaporean on a single speedboat. The engine was shut. The Indian Ocean was calm, blue. Nearby, there was another boat full of divers.  We were near Gili Trawangan, an island in Indonesia.
"Happy Independence Day!" said the Singaporean, Nelson. I had told him that it was March 26, one of the two most important dates in the history of Bangladesh.  Nelson is a nice chap who loves Aerosmith but has never heard of Jim Morrison!
It was our Independence Day. This was the first time in my life I was out of the country on a special day.
I thanked Nelson and forgave him for not knowing about Jim Morrison. Although I became a bit sad, missing my family and friends in Dhaka, at the same time it was an occasion that reminded me of Pete Seeger's Rainbow Race: One blue sky above us / One ocean lapping all our shore / One earth so green and round / Who could ask for more?
Diversity is something we need to celebrate.  Indonesia knows how to do it.
With Javanese at 45%, Sundanese 14%, Madurese 7.5%, coastal Malays 7.5%, other 26%; with Muslims at 88%, Protestants 5%, Roman Catholics 3%, Hindus 2%, Buddhists 1%, others 1%; with 400 indigenous languages, the people of Indonesia live peacefully.
Each of Indonesia's provinces has its own language, ethnic make-up, religion and history. Most people will define themselves locally before they would do it nationally. In Bali, I was talking to an official of Nusa Dua Beach Hotel (partly owned by the Sultan of Brunei).  The man is a dancer. He said he was a Balinese first and then a Hindu. And, importantly, they practice art as part of religion and never separate culture from religion.  When asked whether he felt any problem living in a country with a Muslim majority, he firmly said, "No, not at all." (He gave me a look that seemed to say he was surprised at how one could ask that question. But he didn't know that from February 28 to March 23, more than 300 temples, houses and shops of Hindus had been vandalised or torched by Muslim fanatics in my country. I tried to hide my sigh.)
Veera, our guide on the tourist island of Bali, echoed the same. Being a Hindu, he never considered himself in a minority because his "Muslim brothers" never treated him badly. The 2002 Bali bombing carried out by an Islamist group has left a scar on the Balinese but they vow to prevent a recurrence of such incidents.
I was very fascinated to see that some women wore the hijab and some did not.  But both freely ride bikes. Both fit well in society.
RESPECT THE LOCALS
Gili Trawangan is one of the three Gili islands in Indonesia. It is around thirty minutes' boat ride from the northwest mainland of Lombok.
Interestingly, there is no motorised vehicle here. The main means of transportation are bicycles (that you can rent from locals) and cidomo (a small horse-drawn carriage). I didn't see any policemen either.
At the beachside bazaar, I met a Swedish woman who runs a boutique shop there. She has been living on the island for several years after marrying an Indonesian. Her smiles tell me that she is really happy living on the island. Westerners are very fond of this island.
Gili Trawangan is a perfect 'Party Island'. I was lucky; it was full moon the night we stayed on the island. Walking down the road along the sea beach we stopped at a tiny bar.  Fire skipping ropes, campfire and dances of kids with Bob Marley hair style were surely entertainment, but what gave me sheer delight was a notice hung on a tree.
"Respect the locals or f…..g go home. Thanks."
TASTE MATTERS
Marcel De Rijk is the vice president of the World Dance Council and spends part of the year travelling the world, attending dance competitions.
Born into a professional ballroom dance family in Holland, Marcel has been single-handedly responsible for introducing ballroom dance to Lombok, an island just to the east of Bali. Living part of the year in Lombok, Marcel opened the Lombok International Dance Studio around ten years ago and began teaching local and expat residents to dance.
Another landmark of Marcel is Puri Mas Resort.
He developed it more than twenty years ago as a tribute to his grandfather and mother who were descendants of the Keraton or Palace in Solo Indonesia. The resort was designed to represent a typical Indonesian village with strong Balinese influences, flavour of Lombok and other islands. It encompasses all that is unique to Indonesia; pathways meander through tropical gardens, rooms display ornate carved windows and doors, traditional thatched roofs and dainty terraces decorated with antique furniture, local fabrics and crafts.
In fact, the architecture of Puri Mas Resort is aimed at representing the Indonesian archipelago.
We, two journalists and some Bangladeshis related to tourism, had dinner at the hotel. It was hosted by hoteliers and other agencies of Lombok. They were united for the island. All they wanted was to promote Lombok as a tourist hotspot. And they were not doing it only with money. Their main tools are creativity, taste and love for a place. One can take Marcel's work as an example.
While we were eating and chatting, a musician was playing probably a jazz tune on a keyboard. On the walls, there were photos of Marcel's famous dance moments. I could not hide my sighs. While all the ladies and gentlemen were talking about Lombok tourism, I was thinking of Cox's Bazar, St Martin and Kuakata.  I became homesick again.
IMMIGRATION
We were to fly on a Singapore Airlines flight. It would take us to Singapore, then another to Lombok. Standing in the immigration queue, almost all of us were too annoyed. I didn't understand why an immigration official would ask so many questions while we have machine readable passports. Some people say their machines don't work. But how can an officer ask my fellow traveller, "Do you have a visa?"  Was this some kind of joke?
When we were at Singapore airport, it was really fun. Free foot massage, sky train, free internet with computers or butterfly garden or chocolate shops will never let you get bored. Is it money? I don't think so. It's about taste.
'ALL WE NEED IS LOVE'
It was around midnight. We were walking along the road near the Hotel Santosa where we were staying. (Lombok night is different from Bali's, which is dominated by disco and night clubs. Lombok is actually for romantics.) All of a sudden I heard live music. It was from a bar. C major chord, "Where were you ..."
I entered. The bar was full of local and foreign hippies. The singer was an Indonesian. He was singing Pink Floyd's 'Coming Back to Life'. I went close to the stage. The singer gave me a smile. I smiled back. I listened to this number a thousand times back home and now I am listening to the same old tune away from Dhaka.
My homesickness was not gone yet. But I started to love Lombok – not its luxury hotels but its people. Us or them – all share one blue sky and it's beautiful.
Pete Seeger sang it really well: Go tell, go tell all the little children/Tell all the mothers and fathers too/Now's our last chance to learn to share/What's been given to me and you.

Shahtub Siddique Anik is sub-editor, The Daily Star.