Living life as an Indonesian-born witnessing only the Australian world, I always viewed my own birth country as something very curious. All I knew was that Indonesia’s major religion was Islam, the country was humid and tropical, and that the food was delicious.
One day, when I was looking for something, I came across my parents’ mass ofbatik clothing. All the loud and traditional patterns piled up, one on top of the other. Shades of brown and yellow, with splashes of grey, red and blue. I took some out and presented them to myself in the air, and it made me feel weird. This was a big part of me, yet why does it feel so foreign to me?
I used to be ashamed if my parents made me wear batik. As with many modern Indonesians, batik was no longer a pride of our country. I knew…
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