Hometown

For the first 6 years of my life, I lived in a small town in Aceh province in Indonesia. My parents ran a provision shop and we lived in a shophouse across the street from the shop. My mom would leave me in an elderly neighbor's house during the day and pick me up in the evening. On some evenings, my dad would take me on a ride on his Vespa to the seaside. My sister went to school in Medan so I seldom saw her. During her school holiday, she would come back and we would spend some time together. These 6 years are so hazy in my mind that I am glad my parents still keep some photographs from these times long gone.

Last month, we went back to the hometown for the first time after 27 years. I was moved at how excited my dad was to be back. Meeting relatives, old friends and acquaintances, exchanging stories, recalling the old times. He felt like a whole different person to me in that time. He prayed at his grandmother's grave in the hometown. The tomb stood by the river, with its back against a mountain; this is supposed to be an auspicious resting place. It's not easy to locate the tomb, my cousin walked in front with a long knife to cut off some vegetation blocking the way, we had to cross a stream before reaching the tomb. It was a meaningful time.

Aceh was hit by huge earthquake and tsunami in 2004. Every city has a reminder of the disaster, every person has a story to tell about that time. Mass graves, big ship stranded in the middle of the city, museum, mosques. Everyone smoked here, I wonder if it's tabacco or cannabis (which Aceh is notorious for). It was really sad. I want to do something for this place.