Bandung, November 7th, 2009

I met her when I was 16. I had arrived in France for 2 months when I joined in the curriculum of a little school in Avenue Victor Hugo. It was in English 501, as I sat, a buzz circled the class when suddenly, in front of me, she held out her hand as she introduced herself. She had a beeming smile, and little did I know that is how she always smiles.

We didn't have many classes together, she had enrolled a few years before I did, so as I was introduced a new language in French 101, she was already doing 200 or 300 courses. I remembered how puzzled I was when she and a few friends said they had to go to chemistry and physics lab at the "other EaB"- so the trip to the lab almost seemed exciting because it involved white coats and a metro trip :p

Even so, we almost always spent our lunchtime together, opening our home-made lunches in one of the tiny classrooms and having the type of conversations that ultimately bring smiles whenever I flashback, to this day. I remember particularly one lunchtime, our dear Taiwanese friend opened up his lunchbox to reveal a familiar (from Indonesians' point of view) albeit Taiwanese noodle meal. Here is a remake of the moment:

(as she looked into our friend's lunchbox)
Her: what's that? (pointing to a foreign long & thin vegetable)
Him: it's xxx (something in chinese)
Her: (looking at me, speaking in Indonesian) What did he say? tongcay?
Me: (answering, in Indonesian) I think so. Is that tongcay?
Her: (still in Indonesian) Hmm maybe. Mia Mia, maybe they also know capcay! Let's ask! (refering to him and another dear Taiwanese)

Let it be known that in Indonesia, "capcay" is a stew of many different vegetables and is known largely as a dish originating from chinese Indonesians. So we thought they might've learnt it from their ancestors in Taiwan ;p

But we were giggling, because we know how foolish the conversation was leading, and laughing when we tried to find other synonyms of food items that ended with "cay" or "pao" that indicated any hint of Chinese origin... and when we got to asking whether "cincau" is also a Chinese word, by this... I was rolling on the floor, literally.

Guys, "cincau" in Indonesia refers to grass jelly. Only it's not green, it's black (I'm guessing there's a proper English label for that, but I searched and found nothing).

I also remember the day the school was running IGCSE and A-level examinations right on the day the French labor union decided to do a major strike. No public transportation was readily available, but because the exams were centralized from Great Britain, there was no way it could be postponed to another day. The school somehow managed to delay the exam a few hours, however.

I was already in school, but she hadn't yet arrived. About 10 minutes before the exam was to start, she arrived, panting, and rightfully exhausted. Which mode of transport did she choose to arrive in? Car? That was impossible at that hour because everybody was using their cars that day. Bus? Metro? Inexistant. So she came by manual scooter. She was still smiling when she got there, being true to the sanguinist she is. I still laughed at her after I had time to assess what happened, how she was creative and unique enough to choose a mode of transportation nobody else in the school thought of.

And today I saw her again. Looking ever so beautiful in a gold & maroon modern Indonesian wedding kebaya. She is married today. As I entered the hall, I saw a slideshow of both the bride's & groom's lives--from birth to current. All of the memories I had with her flashed right in front of me as I saw a couple of pictures taken of her while she was in Paris, with our friends, and our teachers, and our little school. Suddenly I miss her so very very much.

She walked down the aisle, looking beautiful and glowing with happiness. She still had that beaming smile... only now it's collected into a very mature gesture. As I was waiting in line to congratulate them, I thought of how so many us from that little school are doing things and finally finding their path in life (I thought of you guys), and today I witnessed hers. The wedding singer, after singing a few English and Indonesian songs, turned her page to sing "La Vie en Rose" just before I went to congratulate her. I smiled, because I thought God chose the perfect soundtrack.

We became friends in Paris. Went to her wedding in Parisj Van Java (that is how the city is nicknamed after Dutch colonialisation for hundreds of years). Soundtracked by a classical French love song :)

Congratulations, Fitra & Rian. I wish you all the happiness possible in the world and after...
:) :) :)

Our past promises

About 7 years ago I promised that I would become different, breathing in as much out of a foreign country and come home as a well-connected Indonesian with new perspectives and style. Five years ago I promised to graduate from an international business school with double-degree by 21. Two years ago I promised to fully embrace my second freshman year despite mainstream opinion that I, again, promised to shut out of my system.

There are always reasons behind our promises- perhaps on the logical level or even more so on the emotional. I'd like to think that I'm logical when it comes down to long-term life-shifting decision-making. Though now that I see it I can't make out which reason was more prominent when I decided to abandon my 6-months due double bachelors degree: the logical or the emotional stream of thought.

You may decide after reading my 2 paragraphs above that I have regrets residued thick under my skin- but you would be so wrong. I joke about it all the time, with friends and family, and usually I do it with a pout of an expression that will lead them to believe that I haven't moved past it. I kind of think it's right for them to feel that way, because it gives them something to be sensitive about without being overly full of their high-paid salary.

The truth is, I am now ever more excited of how my future is on the right track, even if that is solely based on my gut's feelings. I'm no different from how I was 7 years ago, I still incline closer to my circle and watch people from a distance. I am far from being as well-connected as I promised myself I could be... because the truth is, I'm not socially likeable that way. What is liberating is how fine I am with that. I was talking past mid-day nonsense with my brother and found myself laughing to see how much I have grown as a person but still keep so many pieces of me bundled for no one to touch. You have to admit, it's a very proud achievement.

So as I look ahead into my bright future, I see my past promises as coutured dresses that remind me of how I wanted to change and be different- but at the end of the present day, when I change into my sweatpants and tee, I know that I'm still comfortably loving who I am. All is good.