Homecoming
Trip Start
Jul 01, 2008
1
2
7
Trip End
Ongoing
Jakarta,
Indonesia
Monday, July 7, 2008
Prelude
I arrived in Soekarno-Hatta International airport around 1pm. I rushed out of the cramped airplane with an overwhelming desire to stretch out my legs. I walked quickly passing through pastel colored corridors with dimmed fluorescent lighting and headed directly to the immigration checkpoint. I had my passport in my hand and declaration form filled out. I wanted this process to be quick and hassle free . I hoped. But the lady didn't even bother to glance at me as I handed her my Indonesian passport. She quickly stamped it underneath the logo of Machu Picchu that I got the year before. I breathe a sigh of relief since I was carrying a lot of camera equipment exceeding the value quoted on the declaration form. I only checked in one bag and while waiting for my baggage I met another traveler from Scotland. He wore a t-shirt, "If it's not Scots, it's sucks!" Chris was his name and it was his first time in Indonesia. I offered to ride with me so that way my cousin could drop him off at his hostel. For those who never traveled to a foreign country, the time of arrival is crucial especially not knowing anyone because you are arriving in an unfamiliar place and when you get out of the airport or train station there will be 5-10 taxi drivers hounding you. Of course, you have never met any of these people and many times they will take you to a different hostel rather than what you requested because they would rather take you to the one where they will get commission.
The small street leading to my house
This happened to me in India in which the taxi driver told me that the hostel had burned down. We chatted a bit as we walked toward the exit and I found out that he had been working in San Francisco. There were a throng of people outside and I was searching for a familiar face. It had been 8 years since I saw my cousin and I have only seen his photo. Finally I saw my aunt and I dropped my bags and ran to hug her. Behind her was my cousin, Dian. He is dark and thin. I shook his hand and asked him, "Apa khabar?" or "how are you? "Baik saja," he replied or "I am well." My Indonesian is rusty to say the least because I speak English mainly. My aunt and cousin were asking me questions about how everyone is doing and my plans here in Indonesian and I tried my best to answer them. I asked my cousin if we could drop off Chris on the way and we squeezed all of our bags inside the car. It has been almost 8 years since my last visit but driving on the chaotic road of Jakarta nothing has really changed. Motorbikes zoom passed us almost clipping the side mirror, panhandlers sold their goods from car to car on a red light, metro mini or mini bus chugged slowly on the narrow road picking up passengers and spewing dark clouds of smog with every stop, and of course a sea people walking across busy streets carelessly despite oncoming traffic. I felt right at home. As we dropped off Chris, we exchanged email and we might meet up in Yogyakarta or Bali.We arrived at my cousin's house around in the evening around 5pm or 3am back home and I was exhausted rather than jet lagged.
My House
I slept and woke up the next morning rejuvenated. My aunt was surprised that I was not jet lagged. I told her that usually doesn't sleep till around 3am everyday anyway and I am used to it by now. After a cold shower and some clean clothes my and my cousin headed to my old house. July 3, 2008
Homecoming
Petukangan Utara, in west Jakarta is the area where I was born and grew up before moving to America at age 10. It was a much simpler time back then. I remembered walking to school with my friends and stopping for some "nasi uduk" or flavored rice for breakfast. We wore different uniforms everyday and we made sure that our fingernails were clean or we would get hit by a wooden ruler by our teacher. In the afternoon, we would play games like soccer or play our kites and explore in the field or small streams to catch fish. There were no video games, no cell phones, no expensive toys or clothes, no need to look or be cool . no worries. I looked through the tinted window of the car searching for familiar signs from my past. There are more houses and people now. We finally arrived on the small street that leads to my house, the same one where I learned to ride a bike and fell, where I had my first fight and wrote my name on the wall. It was a mixed sense of Déjà vu and unfamiliarity. I opened the gate to my old house and stepped into the past. My aunt looked at me and she was surprised because I didn't tell anyone that I was coming. I gave her a hug and she told me, "You are so big!" My cousins, so many of them, Ucok, Andi, Kristin, Julius, Dear, Ucok kecil, Dede, and jun-jun greeted me.
My father's photo hung on the kitchen wall
They are so big now and some were born after I left for America. I looked around the old house, going through each room searching for lost memories. Nothing has really changed in this house. I loved this house. I remembered growing up that this house is the gathering place for our family. My mother has 10 other siblings and we always get together here every holiday. My father built this house before he died. His picture is still hung on the kitchen wall. My aunt kept telling me that I look like him. The neighbor right next door heard all the commotion and she was also surprised to see me. She called me "ayi" and for a second there I forgot whom she was referring to. But I quickly recalled that I called myself that because when I was little I can't roll my R. Her daughter Desi was my playmate and she and my mom used to say that we were boyfriend and girlfriend. We sat down and reminisced about the past. They asked me if I would ever move back to Indonesia and I told them definitely not now but maybe later in the future. I asked my aunt if I could look through some old photo albums. I know my mother wanted to me to see if there are still any photos of my dad when he was still young. Nevertheless, I found many photos of her instead. I don't remember seeing these photos when I was younger so I guess it is officially my first time. My mother was born and raised in Sumatra. She is one of the oldest children, the third child out of 10 children. My Grandfather wanted her to stay at home and help raise her younger brothers and sisters and even work in the field.
My grandparents
However, she wanted to pursue a better life like many young people those days and against his will she left to Jakarta. She put herself through school and became a nurse. Once she got herself established she sent for her younger siblings. I remember growing up we always have people staying at our house. She had opened doors for many people and not just her immediate family. These photos were of her during her early twenties. She was so stunning and beautiful. She had a natural beauty and many of her photos weren't posed but rather candid. She was also fashionable, she smoked cigarettes, play guitar, and wore dark sunglasses. I also found a photo of my dad and my mom on their wedding day. He wore a brown suit and she wore a traditional dress from Sumatra. In the back of the album was also a picture of me over my dad's coffin. I took out these treasures from the album and took pictures of them using my macro lens. I hope to restore them in Photoshop so I can reprint them. I kept looking at my mom's photos through the night. She is sixty years old now and look at them is truly a window to the past. I have always seen her as my mother. But at one point in time she was a young woman with infinite potential. I guess I was attempting to connect the dot to bridge the past to the present. Nevertheless, she looked so happy in those photos and I wonder if she is happy now.July 5, 2008
We squeezed inside my cousin's car and headed for my father's grave. It's a fifteen-minute drive from my old house.
My dad and mom on the wedding day
When we got to the graveyard I forgot the exact location of the grave. My cousin told me that my uncle had planted a tree so it's easier to spot. My father died young at age forty due to liver cancer leaving behind a wife and three kids. I don't have much memory of him. Even those that I remember I am not sure whether they are real or just dreams that I had when I was a child. When I finally arrived at the grave I discovered that it was covered with tall grass and weeds. I called a caretaker on site and paid to have them trimmed and cleaned. I told my cousin to buy some flowers and he arrived minutes later with a bag full. I asked everyone to take a handful and spread them. I made a quick prayer and I told my father that everyone is doing well and mom sends her love. I would like to have the chance to get to know him. He loved to travel and I saw his photos in many parts of Indonesia and Asia. I guess that's where I got my sense for adventure. Before I parted, I rubbed his headstone for luck and perhaps to feel his presence and reconnect our bond. I promised that I would see him before I leave Indonesia. On our way back to my old house, I asked my cousin to stop by a bakery because it was my aunt's 53rd birthday and I wanted to buy her big chocolate cake. We wanted it to be a surprise so went in first and kept her busy while the kids were getting the candle ready. She was totally surprised and she was gleaming as we sang her happy birthday.
I wanted to spend time with my cousins and my uncle suggested to go the zoo. The zoo was packed because it's holiday in Jakarta and it took us almost 2 hours to get there almost thirty minutes to find parking. And once we got in, the animals were nowhere to be found and those we saw were pretty sad. It didn't matter because I just wanted to spend time with my family. I missed having a big family because they are all in Indonesia. I really want to help them. Many of my cousins wanted to go to college to further their education but it's so expensive especially since the average income is 800,000 rupiah or $80. And college could easily cost thousands of dollars. I would like to return someday in the future and help them financially.
Today is my last day in Jakarta because I am leaving for Yogyakarta, which is East Java, tomorrow morning.
July 7, 2008
I arrived in Yogyakarta yesterday. I will be here several days exploring the city. Also, it's my father's birthday. Happy birthday dad.
Comments
Safe Travels Dri!
Amazing Dri!! Have fun, be safe, inspire, be inspired... you are someone to look up to!! =)