photo credit: hendrasaputra
I am from a girly laced up balloon dress that gave unbearable itch, from afternoons spent with The Flintstones and Japanese kids series of Megaloman and Voltes V on the tubes.
I am from the grey painted house with red plants as fences and graveled driveway, a stone throw away from a hidden lake entrance with tall green grasses rich with dragonflies.
I am from the tall trees that became my hiding place when I got in trouble. Trees that witnessed me grabbed a green snake and nearly broke a neck from falling down. From mango trees that gave the sweetest melt in my mouth treats on hot humid days. With Japanese green grass that witnesses many cartwheels and crazy gymnastic moves.
I am from hearty homemade breakfast of soft boiled eggs sprinkled with pepper and trips to the bakery holding my father’s waist in his motorbike and smell of freshly baked breads. From weekends at Uncle Jimmy’s house, and dressed up Barbie’s with cousin Imelda, and got measured by Grandma Beth for that special handmade dress.
I am from the tease till you cry days and over 12 hours road trips to the city to meet the dotting Grandparents, uncles and aunts.
From the scary belt of my father to timeouts in the corner with one leg up followed by hugs from protective aunts and “Stop scraping your legs, Missy” told concerned Grandmother over my boyish defiance.
I am from Sunday schools of singing beautiful songs and memorizing Bible verses, of huge angels posters painted by my father in our living room then displayed gorgeously in church for Christmas.
I’m from Dutch laden disciplines, from feeling disconnected to the town I was born and more connected to the small nickel town. From my Grandpa’s delicious fried noodles to the spicy foods caused beads of sweats on the scalp also from mama’s pumpkin cake baking in the oven.
From the countless trips to the hospital where sick little brother spent so many nights alone with stacks of coloring books and crayons. Mysterious illness doctors failed to explain that magically disappeared once we left town.
I am from different small towns where family friends made of Indonesian and Australians, where East meet West culture were normal. From big windows facing the port where sunrise greeted my mornings. I am a child of many islands from watching Orangutan babies sway freely from one tree to another to the jungle of concretes.
I am a mix of many things, a nomad at heart.