DAY 1: “Hauʻoli Loa”

Menanti sambutan hangat dari sang mentari.

The girl beside me kept reading the Goblet of Fire—or maybe The Deathly Hallows, tried to be patient while she was separated with her boyfriend which was sitting at another row. Of course, I was pleased, since mine sat right next to me, tried to keep him busy by taking each turns to read Time Magazine or The Economist. Sometimes he got frustrated and whispered to himself, about how worried he was of the future of The United States after the election was over.

Me, oh, please do not ask. I was stuck in the middle from those intelligent people and decided to kill the time, watched some silly movies, including Big Hero and The Secret Life of Pets. Seven more minutes, until the sign of ‘fasten the seat belt’ turned on, I saw the green land from the small window next to that girl.

Here we arrived, at the place where we’ve dreamed about, where we’ve always anticipated it every single day.

Ko’a Kea Hotel and Resort, Poi’pu Beach, Kauia, Hawaii

I took almost 50 photos every day. 5% I’ve shared it to the social media, 50% I sent them to my parents, and for the rest, I kept it in my memory.

It was nice, for sure, to meet those beauties of nature and all the greens that I love. Just like how I pictured Indonesia in my mind, this place reminded me of home, similar but much more organized. Nothing to tell much since I could not describe it as my eyes shut—to travel back at that time. It is just all about the beauty; green mountains, blue ocean, violet of the sunset and the sky, even the sculpture of the shadows from the buildings nearby.

Day one, we let us to release our excitement by covering our feet with the sand. It was almost dark, but still pretty, just like one of Bob Ross’s painting, everything was just like an art.

That was what we’ve expected, and what we deserved to.

This post is also published as part of participation of Daily Post Photo’s Challenge “Anticipation” : An image of something you hope to have one day, or something that was worth the wait.


The heat was so closed, it almost burned my skin. And damn(ly), my southeast asian’ skin was like dried weeds in the arid land, flammable. If it was not because of Mr. Hat and Mrs. Lotion, I would crawl under the Joshua trees; sought of protection—or knelt to the man who has always been my loyal driver, begging to escape from the heat that reminds me of hell.

Jakarta is indeed hot, but not as hot as the desert. Despite, my love for nature successfully hypnotized me. Joshua trees, rocks, cactus, desert creatures, camping cars, they made me forget of the shower of sunlight. Climbed along the road, feel the breeze that greeted my face, smell the soil and grass that I like it so much. Oh, it makes me realize how boring big city is.

One that I regret of: when I looked at my face in the mirror, I cursed thereafter. I got chocolate like the skin of barbeque chicken.