It’s in Dubai Airport that my dream went into pieces. The moment of realization that I am leaving Cambridge came there, as I sat in front of Gate 222. I was surrounded by many other Indonesians, shattering my illusion of racial diversity that I had in Cambridge.
There will be no more cute blondes with blue eyes, or cute nerd gingers. There will be no more pints of Stella Artois, there will be no more weekly visit to The Bird. The images of Market Square flashed in my mind, raising the regret that I had there. After almost a year living in Cambridge, buying my midnight burger in Trailer of Life and Trailer of Death, Ostrich Burger hasn’t touched my tongue yet.
And another image of room B-19 in Norfolk Building popped up in my head. I don’t know who the recent occupant is, yet the setting will forever remain unchanged in my dream. A small room with many books, the place where I spent my life building new life and new family in UK.
A new family was born there, in the dark small hall. Can’t tell everyone how special that hall is for me, since that feeling is undescribable. And all those images left me to tears. Because the illusion called ‘family’ is shattered.
Now I’m back with my old family. Even worse, the lady sitting next to me started to blabber about system in Indonesia, yet quite illogical. Sigh!
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