Remembering a brush with death and the kindness of strangers

Dewi Anggraeni Contributor Melbourne, Australia

He represents the image with which many Australian men, some consciously, others unconsciously, want to identify -- energetic, casual and bent on enjoying life. When he spoke of his near-miss experience in Kuta on Oct. 12 last year, there was a hint of intensity, but none of bitterness.

Rick Elliott, a Melbourne business developer in his thirties, loves sports, especially surfing. On that fateful day, he arrived in Bali in the afternoon, carrying his backpack, with surfing in mind. He was not on a business trip, so he did not have a strict schedule to stick to. He had not even booked a hotel.

It was during a leisurely stroll along the beach that he found the hotel he liked, and checked in then and there. After a swim and a brief rest, he was ready for a night out.

Later in the evening he found himself at Paddy's Bar, where he met up with other tourists, many of them fellow Australians.

Around 11 p.m., Elliott left the bar, heading back to his hotel. However, the sight of the crowd in Sari Club reminded him that it was a Saturday night and he was after all in Kuta, a favorite fun resort for Australians. So he walked in.

Feeling somewhat encumbered by his backpack, Elliott walked up to the front bar and asked the bar waitress if he could leave his bag with her. The waitress suggested that he walk around to the back and stow it there. They had to yell at each other because of the general noise of the music.

Before leaving his backpack, Elliott took out his passport and wallet and slipped them in his pockets. It was then that there was a huge explosion and he was thrown across the room. It went totally dark, but he knew that the roof collapsed on top of him. He was still fully conscious, and he knew he had to get out of there fast.

He knew a bomb had gone off, and he had learned that bombs usually go off one after another. Little did he know that what he had just experienced had indeed been the second blast, the first being in Paddy's Bar, and he had not heard it because of the noise.

As he looked up and his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he checked for any movement around him to see if anyone needed help.

Then it seemed to him everyone was rushing to the back and scurrying past him. When he finally turned around there were crowds three persons deep trying to scale the back wall, as fire ravaged the building.

He rushed further back and scaled the brick wall, then leapt onto the roof of the next building which was slowly crumbling. Again, he turned around to see if anyone needed help, but the heat kept him moving, away from the inferno. Some people on the other side helped him find his way to relative safety. Then they all ran for their lives.

When he was far enough away from the area, he began to feel safer. Seeing people's reactions, however, Elliott realized immediately that he was a frightening sight. He had a gushing wound in his head, with blood streaming down his clothes, his bare arms and bare legs already covered in glass and pieces of debris.

A group of young people gave him antiseptic, then one of them took him to his hotel on his motorbike. Elliott had a quick shower and changed into clean clothes while the young man helped him pack. Lucky for Elliott, he found a taxi, which rushed him to the airport.

He was the first bomb victim to arrive at Ngurah Rai airport, and was promptly checked in on a Garuda flight leaving for Darwin.

"On the flight I was continuously asked if I was comfortable," he said. "They even moved people away so I could lie down. My head was really hurting then".

In Darwin he was the first of the bomb victims to be interviewed by the Australian media.

A year later, Elliott still cannot believe that he came out with relatively minor injuries. He hung around in Paddy's Bar, then in Sari Club, and both places were blown to pieces -- and he escaped death. The experience has made him appreciate his family and his friends much more.

He takes more care about pleasing those around him. He makes a point of seeing them or talking to them on the phone. But he does not bother to see a professional counselor as he finds it easier talking about his experience with close friends in informal situations.

While conceding that he has intense emotions from time to time, the overriding feeling is about how lucky he has been.

"I guess I'm also lucky in that I was there so briefly that I didn't have time to make friends or any other emotional attachment," he said. "I couldn't even remember faces. Still I feel sad each time I think of those victims. Sad and regrets. Regrets that I didn't have time to do anything to help them."

Regarding the death sentence meted out to Amrozi and Imam Samudra, Elliott said: "I think it's too easy for them. My preference would have been to give them hard labor or make them 'pay' for their crime, or a punishment which makes them see the consequence of their crime."

He does not feel vengeful toward Indonesians in general, and neither does he feel fearful about going back to Bali.

"The only reason I haven't been back is because I've been busy. I believe people are generally good. I understand a handful of people have gone out of their way to harm other people. I'm conscious of not branding all Indonesians and simplifying issues.

"You need to separate politics from real life. I'll certainly go back as soon as I can," he said emphatically.