Dear, Victory.
At some point, i should stop writing letters to you, though I guess not now or anytime soon. Whenever I feel stuck in life, I should write, but everytime I'm also stuck at writing, a letter is what usually works best to tidy up my mind. And you still are the main destination for all letters I write. Please pardon my rudeness.
As you probably already knew by my Whatsapp stories, I'm in a new country, new place. I'm in the grace of ocean breeze and scorching sun of Sri Lanka, accompanied by occasional honking vehicles and the rhytm of murders of crows. The new place is not a problem for me, I'm a rolling stone, anyway. I crave new sensation, new atmosphere, and sitting still frustrates the ancient rock inside of me. The new people, on the other hand, is a god damn challenge.
I'm in an apartment cramped by 6 other strangers who have to figure out the best way to live together. I feel tension, I hear murmurs, everybody's talking without having any time to listen to each other and I'm stuck in silence between them all. I haven't done much work, but my energy is depleting fast just to put up a show that I'm also a human all the time. I fear that I will not find my peace until my work here is done for another two years. I'm numb.
I haven't got much time nor the energy to explore, so I don't really have something to tell you other than my woes and misery (well, you know me, I'm a miserable bastard). But I went to the Dehiwala beach yesterday, it's unique because I had to cross railways before I reach the beach. The beach is different here, waves are wild and fierce really presenting how unforgiving Indian Ocean can be. Rotting branches of trees and some tourists' garbage are swaying by the shore, and the crows elegantly scavenging what they can find between the chaos. And don't start talking to me about the sun, i hate every bit of it, how the ray mockingly works to burn me alive.
The locals are nice, though they're lacking the smiles most of us South East Asian have. But don't get me wrong, they'll talk to you, guide you well, and pretty much cool. As chaos as it is, the traffic really respects pedestrians, and I've been in two different countries and spent my whole life as feet user, Sri Lankan people in unison agreed to give the pedestrians the respect we deserve.
The food is amazing, but most of my roommates hate the spices. I honestly thought that they forget that Indonesia was under colonialism for more than 3 centuries because of the spices they now despise here. I'm a true omnivore and I'm grateful that Indian and Chinese food exist with pride in this country. Lord, please forgive their tongues and their arrogance. Anyway, you should try Kottu, it'll suit your Minang's tongue.
From what I can find on the Internet, this country is otherworldly beautiful. There are a lot of places I should visit, places that'll make me feel alive, places that'll make me human not just pretending. Beaches, old mosques, parks and lakes, mountains, everything is worth exploring. But what's worth if I'm only doing it alone between every single thing that its sole purpose is to make me go insane. Sometimes I wish that I can bring you to where I am whenever I want, not only it's impossible, it's also shameless of me. I did not deserve you, do not, nor I will ever.
I hope in the arms of Ampera you find hidden gems, or I hope you have a long free time to get the hell out of there and explore South Sumatera. You've spent your life in the North side of Sumatera, this year the South must belong to you, do not go jaded. We both know how much you love to explore and feel alive. So, be alive. I hope there's food that'll comfort your soul and home sickness. I hope it doesn't take much time to refill your drinking water. I hope you're granted patience in your everday life. I hope this letter finds you well.
Pasha Fatahillah.