On a winter morning, I met a girl who was incredibly beautiful, though not necessarily so to others.
On the east coast of Sydney, I met her: Elisa. The beach was surrounded by a stunning and beautiful natural harbor. As a student from Indonesia, that beach was intoxicating to me; there was nothing like it back home.
The girl was young, and we were studying at the same university, the University of New South Wales, albeit in different programs. I was in Engineering, while she was in Medicine & Health.
We often met at Bondi Beach. We would also plan to meet at Hyde Park on the weekends. Through these meetings, I felt that we were compatible and decided to initiate a relationship.
We understood that our culture, as Eastern Javanese people, wouldn’t disappear. More or less, there was an emotional bond. A sense of neighborliness that led us to share all our problems and impressions of our time here, whenever we met. She was from Ngawi, and I was from Bojonegoro.
Especially living in Sydney, she still felt like a foreigner, as did I.
“Have you ever thought about living here forever?” Elisa asked. From the look in her eyes, I could tell there was a turmoil within her.
“Why do you ask?” I responded.
“We will soon be leaving this city. You know, in seven months we will graduate, right? My question is, if we return to Indonesia, will we be able to contribute to society?” she said.
“We don’t have to study far away in Australia to be useful people, do we?” I replied.