Weedvselite’s Weblog

Bught this up from my previous blogroll…the other one being too wordy..

Title : My Childhood ?
On 12 may 1998, prior to resignation of President Suharto’s presidency , demonstrators targeted Chinese Indonesians in a series of pogroms. I was eight years old when the genocide happened. Images of the racial riot still strike me hard even though it happened eleven years ago. Indonesia, a country that has more than 100 different ethnicities, has always been plagued with ethnic conflict.

However, one particular ethnic conflict occurred in the 20th century when the Information system such as the internet has matured. For more than three days, the world watched as ethnic Chinese was culled, their houses torched and women raped. Even though the genocide triggered mass demonstration in various overseas Chinese communities, not even one world organization step in, not even the UN who promised its aid whenever genocide occurred. It is a exact duplicate replay of cowardice that led to the Rwandan Genocide.

My family was lucky enough to got on a place to Singapore before the riot turned violent but not all of my extended family members were as lucky as me. As the plane touchdown on Singapore intuition told me that my family is going to face a tough future. Due to the riot, the rate of rupiah against the US dollar had dropped dramatically, overnight my father’s business went bust and we are stuck with tons of debt to pay. Even though we were on safe ground, frustrations were piling up, we had no money, my mum left us and Dad succumbed to depression.

My life of luxury vanish in an instant, it’s like a prince that fall from grace and demoted to work as a salve in another land. I was forced to work to meet end meets, take care of my younger brother and trying to cope with my studies. Residing in a foreign land dramatically changed my life. Being separated from the people I love and the things I was accustomed to cause me to feel lonely, helpless, and uneasy in my new surroundings. What further aggravated my situation was that I was the only Indonesian in my school. For the first time in my life, I experienced racism. Racial slurs and insults, which I managed to grasp rapidly, made me utterly aware that I was different from others. As a result, I was unmotivated, frustrated, and I neglected my studies.

But one particular day change my life. I receive a call from my sister, reporting to us that most of my family was well but were separated to several continents across the globe and telling me that it might take a few years before our family could be reunited. But before that day arrives she wants me to be strong and take care of my younger brother and father. Not wanting to disappoint her . I channeled the negative feelings of frustrations and anger into strength, which in turn propelled me to excel academically, and upon graduation I was awarded the top student.

Ironically it was due to this experience of hopelessness I am able to overcome any hurdle in years to come and accomplish certain feat which I would never expect if the riot never happened. But nevertheless , I still could not accept the inaction of the Indonesian Government and Global community to close this dark chapter of Indonesia’s history without giving the affected families any justice ,after all we are humans who shed the same color of blood.

..