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Trash-Surfer
My class and I entered the plane, we looked around eagerly for our seats. I placed my baggage into the above headspace and sat down at the window seat. My friend luckily got the seat right next to me. The plane was turning and taxiing towards the runway. Excitement overwhelmed us as we took off and flew towards Bali.
Sitting on the dull and uncomfortable airplane seats, a ‘Ding’ came on, followed by the unclipping of seatbelts. My friend put her book back into her bag, crossed her arms against the foldable table in front of her and placed her head between her arms. Her hair covered her face as she slowly fell asleep.
The plane tilted to the right and began a slow turn. Looking down, the land looked like squares on a big map. As we neared the ground, cars heading in all directions, waves crashing onto beaches and a river snaking its way through the city came into view.
Feeling my ears pop, attempting to release the pressure, I opened a pack of mint chewing gum and placed one in my mouth. Biting down hard on the gum I saw figures and rooftops speed by as the plane made its final turn and headed towards the runway. It slightly rumbled as the tires hit the tarmac, loosing speed we rolled to the gate.
Arriving at the hotel the teacher said, “meet us back here in half an hour. Make sure you’re wearing your surfing clothes and a lot sunscreen.”
My class walked towards the beach with shiny faces and towels in their hands. Past the brick wall we stepped onto the beach. The tips of my friend’s smile had sunken down and her wide eyes looked at the beach with despair: piles of rubbish ruled the sand, ripped plastic bags covered it like carpets. The waves crashed and brought more debris. Along the shore line, we walked in complete silence towards the surf school. Dead fish floated in the water with their white fins glistening in the sun. Soda cans were scattered along the beach and cigarette buds poked out from the dirty sand. The pollution took away all the beauty of the beach and with it our breath.
Wrapping the leash, that was connected us to the surfboard around our ankles, we walked towards the surf. Stepping in the water, I looked at my friend with disgust. Plastic bags gripped my legs as we went deeper. I looked down into the murky sand and dug up the dirt with my toes. Rubbish caught against the leash and dragged me back into shallower water. The currents got stronger by the minute. I climbed onto the board and began paddling ready to ride a polluted wave.
I stood up and found a plastic bag clinging to my foot, I tried grabbing it to toss it aside, only to find myself falling head first into the dirty water. Coming up for air and dodging another wave, I grabbed my surfboard, took the rubbish of the board and started heading back out. Avoiding more rubbish I paddled out to catch another wave. Gritting my teeth, I got up and realized that the leash on my ankle had gotten caught on ripped plastic sheets again and dragged me down into the water. I exhaled loudly as I fell into the dirty ocean once more.
“What the heck happened here?” I asked the coach, “Why is it so dirty and polluted? It wasn’t like this last time!” I got on my board and started paddling towards him.
“Recently we had flooding in town, since there is a river flowing right through it and the mouth leads to the ocean, all the rubbish and trash in the city flowed right here; Kuta beach.”
Disgusted I felt another plastic bag grab the side of my leg like a spider crawling up it, I pulled it out of the water and quickly flung it to the side. I shook my head, I had become a trash-surfer.
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