20 Years in Limbo

Hey there. Careful now. Don’t buy the hype that says living abroad means having a better life. Contrary to popular belief, changing your zip code is not going to heal our deep disappointment toward the country. Nor is it a feasible option that the majority of Indonesians can afford. Nevertheless, it has its perks. In my case, living abroad allows me to see Indonesia from different lenses and perspectives. It teaches me how to recognize the imperfections, ugliness, and darkness as a wound that I need to tend to and not abandon. And most importantly, living abroad teaches me how to love Indonesia from afar.

More than three decades ago, I left my small village on the slope of Mount Merapi in pursuit of freedom. The kind that would allow me to think differently without fear of being shunned or being seen as a rebel. I left that loving, tight-knit community because I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life staying in the exact same place where I was born, grew up, and would likely be buried without ever seeing what else was out there. I left because I didn’t want to accept that there was no place for a girl like me to grow, develop, and discover my passion beyond what was prescribed. I left that familiar place not to escape. I left because deep down in my heart I believed that the true essence of what made me Indonesian would not be stripped away with my physical absence. I left because Indonesia runs in my blood, and it couldn’t be taken away without my consent.

For twenty plus years, I have gone through the different motions one goes through when building a life somewhere else. The honeymoon phase of the first few years abroad was filled with wonders and admiration for everything new and better. I saw how other people in other parts of the world broke all the barriers where I was caged in, and it felt exhilarating. I felt seen and heard. I loved the anonymity to be who I wanted without being reduced and questioned about my gender, age, ethnicity, or what position I held. I also enjoyed the admiration I received for my progressive thinking. I was drunk on freedom that over time has formed into a certain level of disdain for Indonesia, even to the extent that I didn’t want to be associated with it. For years, this newfound liberty made me cocky and turned me into someone who felt superior. Until the new wave came in.

The next wave is the humbling period and the turning point that has brought me back to the center of my being. It is the phase where I slowly took my armor off and let my guard down after experiencing nothing but unpretentious warmth and full acceptance from my fellow Indonesians, despite my decision. I had prepared myself to defend my choice, state my arguments, and go through endless lists of why what I did was right. I was ready for a battle but instead met with love and kindness.

The truth is the freedom that I yearned for also acts like a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it gives me the tool and power to untie myself from the anchor, much like the yarn that holds a kite that I can easily snap to break free. On the other hand, the freedom and newness of the new place strangely felt isolating in a way. It shapes me into becoming an individual freed from the community—two things that I used to loathe back then. In the sea of liberated voices and freedom in mind, I can’t help but miss the chaotic and messy ways we, Indonesians, coexist. I was in limbo. It felt as if my feet were anchored in two different islands. I belong here but also there. I navigated those wobbly years by pouring my resources, skills, and capacities into Indonesia while continuously growing and exploring from afar. Slowly, I found a new way to love and to give back to my homeland.

At the moment, I am in a phase where I am no longer in doubt or questioning to which country I pledge my loyalty. Because I know where I belong. Because the proof of our patriotism and love for Indonesia should not be reduced to geographical coordinates or the color of our passports. I think the sense of belonging runs so much deeper than just how loud of a noise we can make.

So, in the spirit of celebrating our 81 years of independence, I plead that those in power would stop telling us to go away and seek home elsewhere. I hope they would stop making the issue of nationality an excuse to pit us against each other. Please, let us love Indonesia in the best way we can. Even if it is done from a thousand miles away.

Happy Independence Day, Indonesia!