“[…] a refuge for the old days, till my eyes are closed.” Duly translated from the final verse of the Indonesian song "Indonesia Pusaka", I shake every time this song echoes through my mind. Not only does it resonate pride, it has also moulded my subconscious Indonesian ‘soul’ so that no matter where I am, I will always belong to it. There is this constant missing of literally anything about Indonesia whenever I am not there. Merantau can be straightforwardly defined as leaving one’s place of origin to a faraway place, a rantau , for certain purposes and a relatively long period of time, be it for studying, working, or simply to find a better life that can be anything other than the latter two. I am currently 26, and have spent almost a decade away from my village in Southeast Sulawesi with, as far as I can recall, less than twenty times visiting home, or roughly twice a year, which also means I have mini chances of holding my mother’s hands, helping my brother’s work...
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