“You will return home after graduation, right?” Elisa asked for confirmation. I just sighed.
“I don’t know… I no longer have a home to return to. My parents have been long gone. My grandmother, the only family member left, also passed away a month before I received the scholarship. Besides, after we graduate and return to our homeland, we still have no job guarantees. While finding work in Indonesia is very difficult,” I replied.
“Right now, the only thing I have left is also about to leave me, and that’s you. I have no one else left except my own life,” I continued.
She stared at me. She always looked at me when I spoke. She also liked to wear camel jackets in the winter and liked black pashmina hijabs.
Her apartment wasn’t too far from mine. It only took fifteen minutes by bicycle. And on the weekends she would often spend time at Bondi Beach.
The place was located about four miles east of Sydney’s business center. We usually spent time there from morning till dusk. There were stunning cliff lines and clean white sand. We never missed the opportunity to see a pod of whales from the shoreline.
“Come back home with me. We will start a family there. Doesn’t it sound reasonable?” she said.
“God created the heavens and the earth. Of course, He also created life with its sustenance. You don’t need to worry about that,” she continued.
***
That morning, I opened the curtains. The sky was incredibly clear, although the air outside was cold. There was no snow in Sydney. There’s no snow here because it’s in the southern hemisphere and the climate doesn’t support snowfall. Even without snow in Sydney, the temperature sometimes drops to 8.8 °C.
Usually, in the mornings before classes, I made time for coffee and reading books or newspapers when I wasn’t cooking. I had grown accustomed to living alone in Sydney. I also realized that, if I returned to Indonesia, I wouldn’t have a home to go back to.
I was comfortable living here, and I felt like I had found a suitable place for myself. However, the government had warned scholarship recipients, including me, to return to Indonesia after completing their studies.
The thin smoke from my cup of coffee wafted in the air. Its fragrant aroma reminded me of a time long gone. As a child, I used to drink the coffee my dad made by my mom before he went to the tobacco garden. My dad would often blow on the coffee to cool it down before I drank it. The best coffee was the one mom made for dad.
Back in my village, I still had a house. It’s empty now. Even so, I was reluctant to live in it. A house without a family in it is not a home to return to. Similarly, although it’s winter, there’s no snow in Sydney.