I fought my way home at 5am, after eating mud cake, drinking a sangria-ish white wine mix and visiting the tiki bar. This city showed its friendly face, again.
I learned that P&K is a finnish-swedish abbreviation of puss och kram (from my tuesday night-acquaintance who I never thought I'd hear from again). Tuesday's nightly acquaintance almost convinced us to switch to a newly-opened horrible club with his charming but clumsy messages, but we stayed put, dancing and having conversations that ended with Have a good time in Indonesia and sometimes a bit of excessively friendly behavior.
Everything that's temporary feels fine. I can easily exchange a few smiles and laughs and talks when I know that the take-off is soon.
Things seem easy. Time to breathe, time to be. It seems like I'm learning something new every weekend, it seems like every change, even as little as cutting off hair is linked to something better. I think the cushioned playground- mentality is working fine.
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