The Javanese's Princess

She wore her hair in the wind as she walked through the streets flooded with tourists.
She drove her motorcycle on the sidewalks when she was needed and also in the wrong direction in narrow passages of Kuta, Bali.
Her skin was tanned and her sympathetic smile stood out accompanied by her black slanted eyes.
In Jakarta, the capital of Indonesia, things were not so easy, social mandates limited her freedom.
Her loose hair couldn't follow the wind, or have curls, her skin couldn't be darker. If that happened, it would mean failure in that great city where all work exposed to the sun is underestimated and a destination to be avoided at all costs. Any sign related to another social stratum of hers excluded her from the natural circle in the metropolis.
During her days in Bali, she traveled freely throughout the island, friends with foreigners who came to know the Island of the Gods, she was happy showing and rediscovering her small great paradise.
Beach, beers, parties, yoga and surfing against a suffocating and wildly competitive metropolis that awaited her with her title of nobility.