Ramadhan 2023 Very First Solo Trip

It is very hard to pass ramadhan without ton of tears. I decided to write random thing so I can remember. It is a month when you missed your friend and family the most. 

I think last year Ramadahan in Novara, was quite hard. I remembered that I did not eat very well, I fast for 17 hour after hitting winter depression where I lost ton of weight. I became very-very thin and I feel ill whenever I eat. Winter was very hard time for me.  

This ramadhan, well its a different story. This ramadhan, is my first solo trip ever in my life where I will be entirely fasting and breakfasting alone for the whole month.

But, what is the point of this world without experiencing everything in the first hand?

In 2014, I experienced my first full ramadhan and Idul Fitri Celebration without family, when I was in Malaysia. I remembered I did not cry that time. It was full adventure where the first time I throw the fire-Smokey fireworks which was very loud in the middle of Malaysian neighborhood. I was hosted by a family there, and also got pocket money from stranger's parents. 

When I came back home, then my sister left for her PHD in Japan. Later that we knew, 9  years later - ever since, our Idul Fitri Celebration will never be complete with 5 of us.

Live is strange isn't it?

I stopped experiencing mudik when I enrolled in Gadjah Mada University as student. I stopped. Why? Because my parent's parent was living in Java. I waited until the last week of Ramadhan - alone in the boarding house, or went to my grandmother house when everyone else was already leaving until my parents come, then we go to Malang together. 

But I did not know when I will go to Malang anymore, because grandpa was passed away when I was in Spain. I remembered my last conversation with grandpa was when he was asking, "So you are working with Chinese right?" "Chinese is very hard working,". He smiled, and started to tell his tale all over again. He always ask the same thing. I can see from the corner of his eye that he was so proud of having this blood, he said "You have this blood, you should work hard too" implicitly. 

My grandpa, he was part of Late Navy Army with small figure, non-existence eye and pale skin. Very pale. He lived in Malang, but he could not speak Javanese. He was not Javanese. He talked to us in Bahasa with eastern Indonesian accent. Later that we knew, he was mixed.  

When I grew up, I have identity crisis. We moved a lot, and I did not realize that I was a third generation of "something".  All I knew, I was Javanese, coming from I was born in Malang. But coming as minority I was bullied even by the teacher, I will never forget the bully "Javanese is always apologize even we stepped their feet, so we should stepped on their feet" - one of my bahasa teacher told us that in the class. Phenotypically speaking, I looked like Sumateran, so I just hide myself as Javanese and quenched my teeth. 

Socially speaking, being different was very complicated.

My grandpa, was a very nice guy and he passed us down this selfish gene which always makes me wonder, "what I am", which stick to the rest of my life. But a lot of people said that "You were lucky you were mixed, mixed was high quality gene". They would not experienced bully like I do, if they do they would not say so.

Comeback to my Ramadhan Malaysian experience, the "bully" also happened to me there. Because I look like Chinese.

"You can't eat here, no Chinese" said Aunty Warung to us. "No Aunty, Indonesian". "No fake, no chinese here" they kick us out. I was hurt, of course. I was very young. I did not expect that wherever I go, I will experience this. Malaysia has very complicated love-hate between race, I should see it coming. 

Live is strange isn't it?

When Islam basically teaches us to be kind and acceptance, but why we do this to us? Why? I could not pick my parents nor my looks. Why? I was wondering. It take ages to accept yourself when people rejects you, but the question "Where do you come from? You did not look like Javanese? Are you a convert? (Mualaf)" Scared me the most. 

But, by this experienced. I understand logically why as muslim women we need to wear hijab. Without hijab, I was a regular Chinese girl you can see on the street, no one will ever identify me as muslim, ever without my hijab. Hijab means identity as muslim women. Hijab would not protect you, but gives you the sense of identity - and consciousness to follow the saying.

This Ramadhan, is my first Solo trip, I was the only Muslim in the entire institute. As I trained to be "strange" and "different" by Allah since I was born. This whole thing feels like a fate. As I used to be different, when I saw Salmon documentary that swam against the streamline I was thinking "oo probably it was me" - that was me patting myself when I was a kid.   

Today is the 18th days of Ramadhan, entirely solo trip. (Well) not entirely, because Allah is with me. 

But, honestly I realized that it was not really bad. You can focus on yourself and not being busy bukber sana-sini. I shut my instagram down, I read books, I work, I baked cookies and created mini parcel for people at work, I did a lot of stuff. 

Live is strange isn't it? and it will continue to do so. 

This world, is entirely lonely journey afterwards. 

Let's rest well later, in here after.