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As my wife and I exited the airport in Jakarta, I was instantly greeted by super-heated air whose stale thickness could keep a person standing in place, if one was prompted to give into the immediate need to suffocate from it.

Traveling to Indonesia served a dual purpose - for my wife it was an overdue return to her homeland; for myself it was an opportunity to meet countless in-laws who I had only heard about during the previous years of our marriage. Actually there was a third common reason, that involved having a traditional Indonesian (make-up) wedding so my wife's family could experience our marriage first hand, and so I could be immersed head first into some real Indonesian culture.

A day and another plane trip later we arrived to my wife's tiny island, Belitung, where the airport carries the name of her late uncle - purportedly a notable public figure - along with his statue that is prominently displayed out front with its permanently elated expression; I could only imagine from his apparent fondness of airports. Wow I thought, this family is well connected.

The thirty minute bounce by jeep to my in-law's home revealed a collection of sights, sounds, and smells that came straight out of the most exotic travelogues. It was noting short of island paradise, and it literally took me just moments to get caught up in the feel and loose all pending cares, including the fixation with the relentless heat that seemed to pervade everything including my thinking. I kept saying to myself: it doesn't matter if I look like a sweaty swamp-thing, as well that twenty pairs of eyes are fixed on me at every moment and no one knows what I'm trying to say with the exception of random interpretations through my wife, this is just too unbelievable; just smile and enjoy. And enjoy it I did, immensely.

The remainder of the two weeks spent there was noting short of amazing and in the lengthiest of run-on sentences (aside from those of a much greater literary might proffered by Proust - actually he makes me look as an babbling infant on every level), I will try to encapsulate my experience: The beaches were amazing; the sometimes gullet scorching food was superb; the people were incredible and even though there is an abundance of poverty, the folks were the most genuine, kindest, and family centered I have ever encountered; the wedding was surreal and involved a three day celebration that included dressing up in a sizes-too-small traditional costume that made me look like a giant red smurf, while l laughably danced to traditional music and partook in a cultural event that was beyond surreal that left me with too many indelible impressions to count - while there I continually felt very out of place and was seemingly the only tourist visiting the non-touristy island at the time, to the extent that kids would point and look at me like I was a side-show freak and call me "bulih," which apparently means "lost white dude" or something like that...oh, and did I mention that the beaches were amazing.

I feel very blessed to have been able to glimpse into a culture and experience it from a non-touristy perspective. Traveling is so much more than just seeing - in its most memorable sense it involves mixing it up in the streets and diving into the culture.
And boy did I dive!

Learn more about this author, Gib Whitney.
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