What is home?
I have been pondering about it for quite some time now.
When I first came to Singapore back in 2005, truth to be told, I didn’t plan to stay here this long. My plan was: finish college, finish the bond, and then… go somewhere else. Maybe going back to Jakarta, maybe to another country – who knows?
Well, a plan is a plan. I ended up staying for 10 years and Singapore was soon becoming a place so familiar and dear to my heart.
But will I call it a home?
Sure, it’s a place where I practically grew up from my teen self to an adult (hah). It’s a place where my boys were born. It’s a place where I feel the most comfortable with so far.
But how about Jakarta? The city where I spent the first 18 years of my life. The city where I met my husband. The city that never fails to make me longing for its food and its memories. The city where I met my best friends and importantly, the city where my parents are staying.
Doesn’t feel right either.
I guess that’s true what people say about being a diaspora.
here you are
too foreign for home
too foreign for here
never enough for both
‘Diaspora Blues’ by Ijeoma Umebinyuo
I am only counting days until I am moving to Berlin. Can I call it home later?