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This year marks the fifth year since I left Indonesia to go live in Australia.

This is the second time I’ve returned to Indonesia since then.

I have always had conflicting feelings about this country, not in the way that others love the people but hate the country because of our infamous corruption rates and horrible government (though that, too, plays a part) but because I have always had a tumultuous relationship with my family and have never felt connected to my culture despite living in Indonesia for 17 years.

I hate to be a cliché, but I never remembered a time where I truly fit in this country. I was bad at speaking the language, didn’t much enjoy local delicacies until I became much older, and often didn’t understand references other people my age would make about childhood trends and games because I wasn’t remotely interested in anything Indonesian when I was little. I found solace in people who were similar to me; people in international schools who were much more interested in Western media and had little interest in the country we lived in save for our whinges about how much it sucked here.

Despite this, if you had asked me when I was seventeen whether I wanted to move to another country or stay in Indonesia, I would’ve chosen the latter. So when I was abruptly flown out to Australia and made to live there forever, I mourned the life I would have lived in Indonesia despite my own acknowledgement that it would have been considerably worse. The pay is measly; the people are conservative and unaccepting of people who are different; and I know I would have never made any progress as a person if I was still there. And yet, when I had the knowledge that I could never return to this life, I mourned it all. I mourned my friends, the apartment I would never again live in, and even having to ride a motorcycle in 30 degree heat to school, sweating all the way because you had to wear a mask to fight the pollution and a jacket with a hoodie so your hair didn’t touch the dirty helmet the grab-bike driver had been using for other customers all day.

The first time I came back to Indonesia, I viewed everything through rose-colored lenses. I enjoyed the polluted wind in my hair as I rode motorcycles and happily walked 30 minutes in the sweltering heat to go to overpriced cafes. I revelled in all the changes that the city had undergone in my time away, and was too ecstatic in seeing my friends again that I never noticed any of the things that made up my every-day complaints.

My second visit is going a bit differently. I can now more confidently say that I can never live here again. I wonder if everyone who moves to a different place feels this way? Of course, Australia as a whole is simply better than Indonesia. But the biggest reason I can’t live here is because this place makes me feel small. It makes me feel ashamed that I don’t get along with my family; that I’m different from everyone here; that I don’t want to just suck it up and take it. Even being called my childhood nickname here brings up memories that I don’t care to remember. I love the food in this country. I love the kind of humour we have here that make no sense but have me laughing till my stomach hurts. I love all the beautiful things that happened here that moulded me into the person I am today. I love my memories here, which keep me up at night crying about how I can never return to them. I love my friends so, so much. I don’t think I could have lived here this long without them, but that isn’t reason enough to make me want to come back here forever.

My life in Australia isn’t perfect. I miss it because I’m not there right now, but my daily life there comes with its own stresses and worries that keep me up all night. And I so miss my friends from Indonesia when I’m there. But I’m allowed to take up space there. As strange as I am, I can hold my head up high there. I no longer have to make myself small for fear that people will judge me, or gossip about me. I wake up and go about my day and people are actually happy to see me; to talk to me. It may not sound like much to other people, but it is to me.

Indonesia, thank you for everything. I never want to live here again. In fact, I don’t know if I could spend more than 3 weeks here without going insane. Even now, I wonder if I can say I ever loved you.

…

Impressions of Iris (1)

Akira: Mithra, you’ve known Iris for a long time, right?

Mithra: I suppose so… has it been 800 years or so that we’ve known each other…?

Akira: What do you think of her?

Mithra: What do I think of her…? If I had to think of her in terms of an ally or an enemy, then she would be an ally. But she’s so weak that it doesn’t really matter either way.

Akira: I… I see… What about her personality?

Mithra: Her personality, huh… (Sighs) Noisy.

Akira: O-Oh…

Mithra:…………

Akira: …………

Mithra: ……….

Akira: Surely there must be something else!? You spend a great deal of time together, after all?

Mithra: How troublesome…… She decided all by herself that she would live together with me. She lives in the North but she doesn’t fight other wizards. I tried to give her a mana stone once, but she said something unreasonable like “I won’t eat a wizard I don’t know”. She’s a selfish person who won’t leave my side. But, well, she compliments me a lot, so it’s not all bad to have her around.

Impressions of Iris (2)
Akira: Owen, what do you think of Iris?

Owen: ….. A troublesome person.

Akira: That’s surprising.

Owen: She’s hard to handle in a different way than Bradley. She looks like she’d be really easy to hurt, but when you bring things up she just goes silent and smiles or says “Is that so”, and then changes the subject.

Akira: (Being able to completely ignore Owen like that is amazing too…) Is that why you don’t provoke her the same way you do the other Northern wizards…

Owen: In the first place, there’s no merit in provoking her because she’s not that strong.

Akira: Eh? Even though she lived in Northern country for so long?

Owen: She’s only survived this long because she’s been following Mithra around all this time. She really doesn’t care about anything other than Mithra. I really don’t get what she sees in him…

Impressions of Iris (3)

Akira: Bradley, what do you think of Iris?

Bradley: Mithra’s woman? She’s not right in the head, that one…

Akira: Eh?

Bradley: No, I mean, think about it, Sage. What kind of crazy person would ever be with someone like Mithra?

Akira: I heard there was a human who was in love with Mithra once, too…

Bradley: That one wasn’t right in the head either. Anyway, everyone thinks she’s harmless, but there’s definitely something wrong with her.

Akira: That’s a pretty rude thing to say about her.

Bradley: I’m tellin’ you, no normal person moves to the North because they want to. Especially not someone who doesn’t even like fightin’.

Impressions of Iris (4)

Akira: Snow, did you and White know Iris before she came to the manor? What do you think of her?

Snow: Ohoho. We saved that child from another Northern wizard long ago.

Akira: Eh? Is that so?

Snow: Indeed. That child came to the North in search of Mithra. But she was weak and unsuited to the North, so we guided her until she found her way.

She’s a sweet child. Oh, young love, young love.

Akira: Moving to the Northern country just to meet Mithra is really amazing…

Snow: Ohoho. Even when she woke up in our home, the first thing she asked was whether or not we knew where a wizard called Mithra was.

Akira: Do you and White usually take in younger wizards?

Snow: Not always. But I pitied young Iris.

Her eyes showed a certain kind of desperation. Like she was searching for something she couldn’t rest until she had.

Perhaps she reminded me of myself when I longed for loneliness…

……

………..

Akira: … Snow?

Snow: Anyway, she is a sweet child.

And Mithy seems quite smitten with her as well.

Impressions of Iris (5)

Akira: Nero, how do you feel about Iris?

Nero: Iris, huh…

Honestly, it doesn’t really feel like she’s a Northern wizard… She doesn’t really fight, and all she does is follow Mithra around like a little duckling. It kinda makes me wonder how she went about her day-to-day before she started livin’ in the sage’s manor.

Akira: Iris used to be an Eastern wizard, right?

Nero: Yeah, I heard that.

She doesn’t really seem like it at first, but she’s surprisingly meticulous in some areas… y’know she’s a jeweller up in the North?

Akira: Nero, you surprisingly know a lot about her.

Nero: No, it’s not, well…

It’s not like we’re real close or anythin’, but she’ll occasionally have a drink with me, and she’ll start talkin’ about herself…

Maybe it’s kinda rude ‘cause she’s way older than me, but as a fellow Eastern wizard, I can’t help but worry about her. She’s like a rabbit living in a wolf’s den.

When I think about her interactin’ with someone like Owen, it makes me wonder if she’s really gonna be okay livin’ up there…

Akira: I've heard that for those chosen to be the sage's wizards, a crest manifests somewhere on their bodies, marking them as belonging to that particular sage. Where is your crest, Iris?

Iris: I’m not a sage’s wizard, though.

Akira: Huh!?

Iris: You didn’t know, Sage?

Akira: I thought Snow and White were just kidding when they said “She’s only here for Mithra”…

Iris: Oh, no. They’re quite right.

Akira: I see… then, do you still fight The Great Calamity when it appears?

Iris: No, I mostly watch from the sidelines.

The Great Calamity hasn’t ever been that big of a problem until now so it’s not like the sage’s wizards ever needed my help anyway.

Akira: In that case, couldn’t you just stay in the manor while the other wizards fight The Great Calamity?

Iris: Well, yes, but…

……….

Not that this would ever happen, but in the one in a million chance that Mithra ever dies because of The Great Calamity, I just couldn’t take it if I wasn’t there.

What if some other wizard scoops up his mana stone and eats it?

If Mithra dies, I have to be the one to eat his mana stone. I just wouldn’t be able to live with myself if some other wizard who was just after his power ate it.

Eating one’s mana stone is an expression of love, too, after all.

Don’t you think there’s a sort of romance to consuming the person you love?

Akira: O-Oh… I see…

(Her idea of romance is pretty intense…)

Immigrating to a new country has changed my life completely. This sounds like a very obvious thing to say, but you don't really realise how much changes until you actually do it and look back at the life you used to have.

I moved to Australia when I was 17. The day that the world announced that COVID-19 was a monster to be feared, my parents, who were already living in Australia while I was in Indonesia, booked the first flight they could find to ship me off to be with them during the midst of a global pandemic. I didn't mean to stay, it was only supposed to be for a few months, but... three years later, here I am. Still here.

It was a very jarring move, to say the least. I could actually walk places, the weather was freezing, most people didn't look like me, and when I first moved I feel like I forgot every English sentence structure I ever learned, despite my numerous academic achievements that told me I was an excellent English speaker - the best, even, in most of my schooling. Despite being ridiculed for being too "westernised" for the majority of my life, there I was, in a Western country barely being able to utter my lunch order.

My relationships with the people I left behind is one of the things that I was forced to confront the most as an immigrant.

My mum says that people who are "left behind" will never understand the feelings of the people who "leave".
It is different for those of us who “leave”, I think. Not that it’s easier for people who are “left behind” in that sense but, it’s just different the way they can’t understand how I feel the same way I can’t understand how they feel without the other’s insight. Again, this all sounds very obvious when I say it out loud.

One thing that is fundamentally different in the way that we view our relationships with each other is that the connections I have to people I care about from the country I was born in are almost more than the connections to the people. It’s also my connection, my attachment to a country I will likely never live in again; a country that will keep changing while I’m not there, and yet a “me” and “my life” in that country that will always stay the same. I felt it when I went back for the first time in two years. The way people paid with QR codes instead of cash, the malls I'd grown up with changing their stores, the building next to what used to be my apartment which wasn't even finished when I'd left, the changing prices of everything, the new tolls that had been built: everything changed, and me? What about me had changed that was significant to the bustling city of Jakarta? I'd certainly changed in many ways these past few years, but all my changes were significant to the new city I was living in. My university, my job, my hobbies, my friends... in Jakarta, it was as if they were fiction, something for my family to brag about without ever actually seeing me do.

The time for my friends in Indonesia will keep moving. But I will always be 17 there. I age here, in Australia, where I will further my career and build new relationships and probably spend the majority of my life in. I will almost certainly never be anything more in Indonesia than the existence I was at 17. Because I have no more growth to do there - or rather, I cannot grow there. I am not there to be able to do that. But they (my friends) are there; growing, living, making career moves and meeting new people and finding more things that are important to them there. Moving on. And I'm... here. In Jakarta, I'm seventeen years old and they're all I have left of this country. It feels like that sometimes. Even though to them I’m moving on in my own way. Time moves for me here, not there.

But am I also “there”, in Indonesia, for them? They have only ever interacted with the me who is in Jakarta, so I wonder if they could possibly fathom the me who exists outside of it.

Celine Song was right, some journeys you pay for with your entire life.

Current Music: RIBS - Lorde

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