Dan kali ini kereta yang kamu tunggu telah tiba. Jam menunjukkan pukul lima pagi lewat lima puluh menit, waktu Indonesia bagian barat. Kereta Taksaka Kencana siap melaju menuju Yogyakarta. Tidak ada yang kau tinggalkan di Jakarta. Sebab engkau lahir, tak empunya apa-apa.
Kini kereta sudah tiba, sebentar lagi akan melaju cepat. Selamat tinggal Jakarta, kelak kita akan berjumpa.
Stasiun Gambir, 2 Januari 2024.
On the second of May, 11 years ago, my dad passed away from a stroke and a heart disease. He was almost 50 that year, and I was about to be 20 in the coming days.
There’s not so much I know about my dad. Somehow, Asian fathers in his generation were made to be a mystery. No story was shared to his kin, as if a key was never made to open the lock. I cannot count how heavy weights he had to carry to his final days. He let it go at last. The suffering was not worth carrying on. Four days after he left the earth, my brother and I found ourselves on the sea, riding on a fishing boat in the northern part of Jakarta to scatter his ashes. My mother was not on the ride since it was too emotional to handle.
I don’t have so much memory of him, let alone a good one, despite us living under the same roof. Maybe because the classic narratives of ‘Mom has to take care of the kids and dad does the work’ made me think both parents have different functions. The only thing I knew before was both of my parents were coming from the same island and met in Jakarta to find jobs. He was a cook, and my mom was a hairdresser. He was lucky to finish high school, whilst my mom only could stay until elementary school because of her economic situation. Having a higher education was, is, and will be a luxury in my home country. His love was a tough one, and often forced me to study accounting for my bachelor’s (Chinese roots need to be good with money). I took advertising instead, and he questioned my future. Yet, he supported my choice.
I could vividly remember when he was bedridden in the hospital and knew I got a chance for a student exchange experience in the Netherlands due to my score. The light that had dimmed in his eyes seemed to find its way out when he heard this story. He passed away six months after that. Only until I came back to Indonesia a few months ago, my mom told me a bit about my dad in a discussion over lunch time. Perhaps one day I can understand him not only as a father, but also as a person.
May 2, 2023
Brussels - Belgium
On the 29th of May 2022, the clock witnessed me on earth for approximately 946.100.000 seconds. Google told me so, I never keep track of the time. I also have lost count how many times I fell in love, had a broken heart, overjoyed, burned-out, cried, and other things I couldn’t even describe. These 10 fingers aren’t made for that.
Funnily enough, I, someone who used to quantify stuff, do not care less about my age now (except my fear of osteoporosis). Thirty is just a number, they say. Yet, this magical number is often capitalized by the so-called notorious magazine for their own goods. Open LinkedIn, and see how many times have you seen ’30 Under 30’ shown on your feed. More than my fingers, obviously.
Does it make you anxious, now? I don’t have any ill-feeling for those who are on the list, but life doesn’t end at 30. For those who read this, you don’t need to be at Mount Everest on/under your 30. Enjoy the walk, the trip, the companion, the pain, the weather, and everything under the cloud. It won’t come twice.
The sky is crying tonight,
and the thunder is rolling in the sky
tears are immensely falling from above
blessing the barren land
and swapping the whole city without mercy
the flash is the light made in heaven
lighting the stage on earth
where people dancing in the rain
or crying along with the sky
because nobody like to dance alone
nor cry with no one
I wish life can be like a trampoline
I could just jump, and life would bounce me back
but that's the never case of mine
like throwing a porcelain
that's the only chance to do it right
and life never offer the second chance once it is broke
We sat next to each other
because I had no courage to see your eyes
that have the colour of your favourite coffee
a cappuccino
you hate black coffee
which has a similar taste to life
bitter
someday I will become the milk
so I could pour myself into your life
and make it a lil' bit sweeter
The sand never asks the sea
why it always comes back to the shore and leaves in seconds.
The trees never ask birds
why they are flocking back and forth to the branches.
The spring never asks winter
why the snow cannot embrace its arrival.
And I never ask you why you are always in my mind,
even though you are leaving me behind.
Does faith find you or do you find your own faith? It's a haunting question that has followed me since years ago. But recently, things have become more intense. It keeps echoing whenever I spaced out. I don't know how or where to find the answer, nor want to know about it. On Wednesday, 25th of April, I was trekking to the ancient valley at the south of Göreme. I stopped at a random cliff and suddenly everything felt peaceful, As if the time wasn't ticking. Perhaps this is what humans called faith. It cannot be answered but can be felt. It resonates with your heart without any preach needed. It doesn't need to be found, because it's already there in the first place.
Dear You,
How are you doing? I hope everything is okay as you said, although I know you are not really doing well. Sugarcoating your situation doesn't really work for me. It has been months since we have meaningful conversations and I miss that. In case we don't see each other soon, I hope you read this short postcard from Napoli.
This city was totally hot beyond my expectations. The sun shone too bright and scorching what's under the light. Even staying in the shadow didn't save me from sunburn. The sun had no mercy on me, but maybe on you if you were here either. But so far, I love Napoli. Not because of its pizza, rather I found the city covered in green and yellow. Maybe they were proud of their lemon and Napolitana Basil. Yellow is my favourite colour, but you never know that right? No wonder, you never ask for it either. Seeing from your habit, I bet know you know. You always prefer to watch me in silence.
I was lingering around the town for hours and got lost. However, I smelled something familiar. It was the aroma of your clothes, but how come? Was I hallucinating? Ah, thank God I wasn't. When the scent of fresh linen carried by the Sunday breeze during summer greeting my nose, it means I was lost in Napoli. Since when the last time I've smelled your fresh clothes? Probably in ages, I don't know. I've lost count of it. I miss you.
This postcard supposed to be shorter but I have a feeling you want extra spoilers. That's all I want to say right now. I hope the wind whispers this message to you.
Sincerely,
DS
To whoever knows me since I was in junior high school, I was a person who suffered from a major acne breakout until I didn’t even recognise my face. This was happening until the next 15 years, even when I wasn’t a teenager anymore. Becoming an adult-who-suffered-from-acne-breakout unconsciously made me less confident with myself. I rarely wanted to be in the photo, especially on a birthday occasion. I remembered there were moments when I woke up with blood stains in my pillow sheets. My desperation made me believe what’s written on the internet. From putting lemon juice on my face, as well as spreading coconut oil with DIY essential oils. The result? It wasn’t getting any better for years even until I stopped the practice. Here is a pic of mine during my trip in April last year (2019).
Real plot twist: it was on both sides of my cheek. This was the result of my acne-prone skin combined with DIY stuff from the internet. Never ever trust what you’ve read on the first sight. Always check other reputable sources to verify the fact.
Misinformation can happen to everyone. As a communication practitioner, I was ashamed I didn’t screen thoroughly all written information on the internet, including social media. My blind faith put me in a difficult position and it did affect my well-being that much. Finding the professional in the respective field is the viable solution I have - which in this case is my dermatologist. She even lost words when she saw my face condition. I remembered how painful it was to be injected with Vitamin C directly to my acne in two different sessions. This (bitter) experience motivates me to always reminding people the importance of trusting legit professionals rather than following random micro-influencer advice. Long story short, I put all my experience and thoughts about how fake online information affects people’s well-being on an academic paper and it got published (click to read the article)! This makes me more than just happy, but also as my first step in campaigning the right information on social media. Feel free to read it and let me know what’s your thought!
A year after I went to a dermatologist and using legit products afterwards. It’s not at Asian-perfect level, but it’s waaaay better than my previous condition. Always follow professional’s advice!
I never know
who I am to you
Maybe I am just a shadow
lurking under your radiance
Neither you and I realise
we are made for each other
the stronger you shine
the darker I will be
Keep shining
and be my morning star
I wish you to be up there
like the summer sun in Finland
Dear My 40-Year-Old-Self,
How are you doing? I wonder where you are right now. Maybe you are still living in Brussels, or moving to Ghent, or maybe enjoying the sunshine while sipping a cocktail somewhere at a pristine coastline. Wherever you are, I know you are doing fine, and it will remain the same as always.
Today marks 28 years since I was born. It feels so fast, eh? I don’t even expect time to rotate this quick as if I’m leaping into the future. There are so many things happening in these last 2 years. Moving back from Bali to Jakarta, having a bad relationship, becoming a workaholic (again), got two scholarships (which I never expect), finally moving to Europe - Austria and Belgium. It seems so hectic, doesn’t it? Yet, I enjoy this never-ending pilgrim with full of lemons.
Uncertainty becomes the gimmick at this point. From virus to personal matters, nobody knows where the ship will sail later. The weather can wreck it up during the journey and strand you on a random island. But don’t you ever forget these three mantras: you survived, you survive, you’ll survive. Why worry if everything has been written up there? I know you’ve been through a lot of shits, but nothing can really break you.
If only I can meet you in person, I just want to let you know you’re not alone. Even if you feel lonely, that’s fine and it’s totally normal. Maybe all you need to do is look closely to your surrounding. Now you know you’re not alone, right? If that’s not enough for you, sit by the window during the sunset hour and remember how beautiful your life is.
I still have so much to say to you but let me keep it for next year. Happy birthday, my 40-year-old self. I hope you find your happiness wherever, and whoever you are with :)
Sincerely,
My 28-Year-Old Self
Final class with the so-called DCLeaders in Salzburg
In the last 4 months, I got some messages from people around the globe asking about the master programme that I’m doing now. I am more than happy to explain things, the programme, and life in Europe. Everything that’s written here is not sugarcoated, I’m going to say things as truthful as it is.
On 15th January 2019, my heart almost stopped beating when I got the email from DCLead (Digital Communication Leadership) joint-master programme regarding my scholarship application. I was selected for the selection interview and finally secured the fully-funded scholarship by Erasmus+ exactly two weeks after that. It’s not a short process, rather it took me three years to finally figure out the suitable programme and got the funding. To make a long story short, I was selected for another Erasmus+ programme as well in Health Economics and Management (EUHEM). The second scholarship option has a higher university ranking, but I believe at the end of the day it’s not about the number written on the paper. It’s about the people inside the programme, who you are, what you want to be, and things that you want to learn in the future. This story will give you a bigger picture of what the programme looks like according to my own experience.
It’s Started in Austria, Not Australia
You won’t find a kangaroo in Austria since it’s a native animal in Australia. It’s a different country, people. The fact that my mobility programme started in Austria made me wonder what the country looks like. I was surprised as well figuring out there’s a university in Salzburg. Whenever I said to my friends that I was going to study there for a semester, they thought I was pivoting my career to become a musician. That’s the last thing that I’ll never anticipated, even my blues harp is still stranded somewhere in my room.
During the first semester, I was learning the foundation of digital communication as if I knew nothing at all. Even though my previous job was related to the same thingy, the programme pushed me to see the paradigm from different perspectives. In fact, Aristotle already proved that a long time ago: the more you know, the more you realise you don’t know. I am not going to explain details of the courses, but metaphorically, it was structured into two kinds of categories: the course that teaches you what life is and how to live.
The first category taught me about all things related to digital communication theories in general and the pro-contra. The professor invited a lot of guest lecturers during the whole semester, and students were asked to critically think from different angles across various topics. The second category complemented learning from the first one, students were challenged to do a semester research project on a certain topic and critically review a phenomenon with resources from various literature. Overall, the programme is well-structured for everyone from different backgrounds. There was a time when I felt so stupid for not knowing the alien-topic and that’s totally okay - you don’t need to rush. Everyone is (re)learning from scratch :)
Moving to Brussels: It’s Getting More Serious Than Before
I thought classes in Salzburg were already brain-squeezing. I was totally wrong; things got harder when I enrolled in Vrije Universiteit Brussel, with specialisation in Digital Communication, Policy and Innovation in Europe (POLINN). The course content is way even harder than I had before in Salzburg. But on the bright side, you’ve got chances to design your own course based on your interest and that’s your gateway for the upcoming thesis topic.
The courses in VUB are generally categorised into three big topics: economics, media and journalism, and lastly policy and governance. Although you can still see courses that are not related to those three groups. I’ve designed my courses focus on (digital) economy as well (yes, my Chinese bloodline never lies) with a sprinkle of journalism and technology in between. Somehow, I feel the courses are interconnected. No matter what kind of topic you’re going to pick later, those courses will be beneficial for your critical thinking and knowledge.
Working Experience Before Master Programme
Having experience in the industry is totally beneficial before you pursue the master study. Sometimes it’s hard to slap your ass off the office chair when you already enjoy monthly salary transferred to your bank account. It was also hard for me, but hey, you’ll get more knowledge for your future career after the master. I felt I can relate things with what I’ve done in the past and critically review what I did. Is it ethically right or wrong? Can I do it better? If I already have that knowledge before, what will I do? Although having no professional experience is completely fine, but I highly encourage you to test the water first.
Always Ask Yourself: Is This the Right Programme for Me?
Never forget to question yourself why do you want to pursue this master programme. I know living in Europe can be a wholesome (yet awesome) experience. You’ll have the luxury to travel between countries easily, enjoying new cultures, finding good beers - but that’s not the purpose of the programme, isn’t it?
If you’re still not sure about the programme, there are ways to figure out where Rome is. You can find the alumni or current students on the DCLead website, find them on LinkedIn or any other platforms, or see the details of the programme content - even though it might change in the following years.
I understand finding a suitable programme is hard and there’s no such thing as the perfect one. Each programme has its own flaw but there are things that you can still compromise. You need to evaluate all information that you’ve got, carefully select which one is relevant and not sugarcoated, and ask yourself again: is this what I want? You clearly need to know where you are going to navigate your ship a.k.a. life.
If you have any further question about the programme, feel free to reach me through these mediums. I am more than happy to answer your question :’)
1st March 2020
16.13 Gare de Lourdes
The weather was as gloomy as always in the winter. Except, the wind was kinda wild until I couldn’t even move a step forward. Or maybe, it was me who didn’t want to. Blaming the wind was easier than blaming you, ain’t it?
Voila, the ticket showed my favourite train seat. It was in the corner with no one sitting next to me. Only a speaker above my head bothered me every time they announced something. It kept ringing at least every 30 minutes. I didn’t understand the announcement in French, the same way I didn’t understand what’s on your mind.
I was facing the back of the train, while it moved forward to Bordeaux. It felt like the train forcefully pulled me to the future, even though my heart belongs to the past. Oh, wish I had a time machine to spend a moment with you just for one more day.
Baby, baby, all I have is you in my head.
It was a sunny Saturday in Salzburg, yet felt so gloomy. Half of my friends just moved to Copenhagen, leaving all good memories behind here while I was counting days before moving to Brussels. The central was busy as always, but it never felt the same anymore. As I wandered aimlessly near to Salzach river, something familiar invading my olfactory system. Little did I know, I was standing in front of my favourite coffee shop.
"Ah, hello again, young man! You're lucky today. We just restocked our Ethiopian beans. Perhaps, you'd like a cup of black coffee with it?"
Yes. Any beans were fine. At that point, it didn't really matter if they served any kind of coffee, as long I could sit in my favourite corner. I literally did nothing other than scrolling my Instagram account and sometimes gazing through the window. I saw a lot of Chinese tourists lingering around the street. I saw an old couple entering the bus while clinging into each other. I saw the memory of us entering the coffee shop.
"Here's the coffee. Enjoy!"
The loud greetings from the barista broke my enigmatic nostalgia. I didn't know whether should I thanked him or not. The coffee was still hot but I sipped it like tomorrow never came. I never knew it was that bitter. But it wasn’t their fault anyway, the coffee taste never changed at all. Maybe the last moment I had there was too sweet to be true.
"Anything else?", said the barista.
"Nope, that's all!", I replied.
I said to them how I loved their coffee and that was my last time visiting their coffee shop before moving to Brussels. Perhaps, I will visit them again this October. I want to sit there again, exactly in the same corner while sipping a cup of memory.
Once a woman asked me why I am still single.
“Having love is a luxury. Too bad I’m a poor guy.”
It has been 10 years ago since I started blogging. Can’t promise you anything, but will definitely update this baby ;)