A Mountain Boy

Time flies. As if the Hermes sandals are taken by the old Cronos. True, time has been my best friend in healing all the wounds. But time is also responsible for the new wounds called separation. Separation from people you know, new friends you made for a short time, new place you can finally call home.

Few days ago, a dear friend from Korea went back home, leaving Cambridge. It's barely possible for us to meet again (especially if I am going back to Indonesia. Duh!). No flashy farewell party, no crazy farewell drink, no classy farewell dinner. Just a hug outside the receptionist (YES! St. Ed doesn't have a plodge. LOL).

I told her my plan to go back for graduation and further plan to present in the seminar on March 2012. Can't deny that I wish to see her again in the future. She was happy and said, "You have done so much in your academic life! Your struggle was not wasted in vain! A mountain man going to Cambridge, eh?"

Her sentences got stuck in my mind and brought me to another contemplative mood. True, I have never dreamed of going into this university. As a student, I was never the brightest. In my elementary years, I tried so hard to get the first rank in class. But, how many times have I had that privilege? A socially awkward and super talkative dark skinny boy. Not the bright one nor the rich one. Hell, I could barely afford books. True, I did dream about Cambridge in this stage, but just as a wild imagination from reading Sailor Moon.

Junior high sank me lower. 30th rank out of 40 students? Desperation and panic attack every term during the final exams? Got into the 239th rank out of 400 students for the mock exams? And still social alien due to the lack of interest in soccer and rock music. My best aim for the university then was just Gadjah Mada University.

Senior high? Good grief. I was not in a good school. Rural one where people know nothing of its whereabout. Dreaming of going abroad was too much to bear. With the tuition fee of 5000 IDR (equal to 33 pence) per month, affording a ticket to go even to Malaysia or Singapore was a mere wild thought. My only hope was to participate in a student exchange program. Guess what? There was an offer of AFS student exchange. But if I was selected, I had to pay up to 600 USD for that. Now, how could I get 600 USD? Afterall, I am just a village boy. Yes, my house is on the mountain, far from the city centre. You, dear Cantabrigian fellows, might not believe me if I say that until the second you read the article, phone line has not reached my house yet.

My university is not popular either. Please, my fellow Cantabs will never hear of that place. Not a flashy one, not a famous one. It is not even Gadjah Mada University. Less exchange program, less scholarship. What could I do? Twice I put myself on the Fulbright exchange program and got rejected twice. My desire back then was just finishing the undergrad and live a simple life as a teacher. Yes, a mere teacher who teaches in senior high school. Earning a decent amount every month, enough to buy meal and pay the rent. Totally lack of ambition, eh? But what could I do? Without any scholarship, I could never afford the tuition abroad. Self funded was never a choice. Hell, it's not even a choice! I really need to be a high class hustler to get the money. Well, that's an ironic joke among friends.

After graduation, I decided not to settle down on any permanent job. If I have a permanent one, it will be hard for me to pursue the scholarship. Various part-time jobs only for the sake of living while trying to get the fund. For almost two years, I applied to many scholarships available. Nothing successful, and I grew impatient. I need money to keep living, I need a permanent job to secure the future.

There were times when I wanted to just give up. There were times when I got really frustrated, thinking that I picked a wrong choice. Afterall, I was nobody studying social science (or worse, education). So many scholarships for natural sciences, for medical study, for biology, engineering, chemistry, and their friends. But education or literature? I was literally crying alone in my room many times, regretting my decision. The decision for my undergrad major, the decision to reject all the permanent job offers, the decision to be stubborn.

And just by the time when I was almost giving up, my phone rang. Something I could never expect, a chance to be a part of Cantab network. And here I am, a Cantab member. Something that I did not even dare to dream.

Am I lucky? Perhaps. But if I gave up, I would not be here now. I might have ended up in a cheap master course somewhere. I might have ended up being rich from working. Who knows? But I took the blow, I took the risk, and here is the boy from mountain.