Was it midnight hot pho to hide from crowded Saigon streets or a glimpse of Hoa Kiem Lake in Hanoi? Sunset in the boat watching a thousands bat in Labuan Bajo, or island hopping with Nila and Vennie, chasing komodo?
Was it a cry under the rain during Sigur Ros concert in Singapore, or feeling small in the front of giant megalith site of Gunung Padang? Running around Hong Kong chasing plane, mini heart attack in front of closed check-in gate, or got fever while sleeping in KL airports?
It could be as simple as the smell of rice field in Boyolali, watering plants in Papa’s little house in Salatiga while waiting for Mama’s chicken soup, or the comfort of Bungky’s home in Purwokerto. Maybe it was when i encourage my little brother for his first snorkeling experience in Seribu Islands (Yes, you will float, let go of my hand. No, no shark.)
Maybe its how nervous i was on my first english presentation in a hectic conference in Fukuoka. Or how scary it is being in Lebakbulus in the middle of the night waiting for a bus to Bogor for doing writing training. Maybe its the friendly smile of strangers, non-english-speaking-Kitakyushu’s-man walked me to Risa’s apartment.
How can i forget about old batik maestro’s Lim Po Hien, cried “please make batik sustained,” in Pekalongan. Then a week later, i’ve found her batik become a star of an exhibition in Penang. And how i was moved by Oey Hong Djien’s passion of his thousands paintings in Magelang (its become my first art article!).
Sore leg and headache after learning Manila’s hundred years history two days in a row. Or how a man praise Jokowi while paddle his rickshaw under hot sun in Solo. Maybe it’s the sound of train leaving Yogyakarta on a sleepless Christmas eve.
I can’t decide. Every places, every people i’ve met along the way have its own charm, offering so many experience, new perspective, emotion (oh the buttterfly in my stomach), so much to learn from. All of the journey that make me who i am.
*the title is from Mogway, the picture is me in Kanawa Island, Flores.