Mudik (v) : Going back to your hometown

Living in one of Indonesia’s big city such as Bandung for almost 19 years has made me one of that nyunda girl. Talking with Sundanese accent with a ‘teh’ and ‘mah’ in almost every end of sentence like every othere Sundanese girl doesn’t make me feel like we’re all the same. So I started to ask my friends, done some little research, and I found out that Bandung is full with a comer from all other Sunda tribe all over West Java. I love to know that facts because I was actually born in Payakumbuh from a very multi-cultural family (I’ll tell you about it later). So we’re all have no difference in the differences.

Since I was live in Payakumbuh, West Sumatra, where the people are tend to be a bit bolder than Sundanese, I also have those tendency to talk boldly to people. That’s how the first time a question popped up in my head, ‘I traveled to learn about other culture but how come I’ve never travel back to where I was born and I can’t recall any memories of that place ?’

Then I bought a ticket to my hometown.

Well, it’s not that simple. However, I finally arrived in Minangkabau International Airport and my neighbor, Om Ef, who used to babysit me, were standing right in front of the arrival gate. Waiting. To pick me. To going back to my hometown. So we drove, 2 hours long, and he was just keep talking, telling me stories. Stories that I couldn’t even remember and it made me feel blue. But the blue’s blown away when I arrive at my hometown. Payakumbuh.

Om Ef was still living next to our old house, it’s different. Some things change but I could remember the window where I and my brother used to sit hours waiting for our parents to come home in the evening. I could remember the paddy field in front of our house where I fell and cover my face with mud. I could remember the street where I was playing hide and seek then I stumbled to some rock and ripped of my chin. It was magical, how a place can bring back your memories that you’ve desperately have tried but nothing came up and just when you felt the atmosphere of those places, it just popped up.

Yep, the breeze will tell you everything and I bet these pictures could do more story-telling about how I feel. I feel home.


Warmest Regards,

Yang Merindu.

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