I sit by myself in the living room, in front of my laptop. Easy-listening music is played softly on the background. The clock ticks slowly, as if it feels too lazy to move its second. Some trees out there are dancing very, very slowly. Apparently the wind is also too lazy to move. It is sunny outside; couch potatoes like me would rather stay at home and
get fat relax.
I’m going to write about this house, which now has become my home for several months. I write for myself; I know I’m gonna miss it someday when I hit the road or when I come back to my old house.
My home is located on a border area between Bandung and Cimahi. My parents decided to rent this house because it’s closer to their office and to their children’s schools, and is affordable. I remember my first impression of the house: felt like it was so far away from the city. The road was rocky and it was deadly quiet because the house is located at the end of the road–no one passes by. The inside of house looked weird as well; I couldn’t understand what was on the architecture’s mind when he designed the house–if there was any architecture at all. On those early days, my parents often visited the house to clean and renovate it.
After the renovation was finished and the furnitures were all placed, I don’t think I can leave this house. Ever.
Why do I feel so attached to this house?
This house and its environment give positive energy to me: it has lots of windows, so I don’t need to turn on any lights during the day except for bathrooms. I like to hangout with my family in the living room; laughing, telling stories, eating, or just being immersed on our own gadgets. It’s just… it feels good to live here. The neighbours are also nice; I remember their faces because I sometimes jog in the morning. Every morning I can see kids going to kindergarten, naive and full of curiosity. Every afternoon they will play soccer on the field and the girls will cheer at them. Some dads are also active; I’ve seen them countless times playing tennis (yes, we have a tennis court as well). It’s very lively. I like it here.
The house also has stories of travellers who came by and stayed for awhile. They are from Indonesia, Canada, France, Philippines, Taiwan, Germany, and still counting. We shared stories, inspired each other, and often they would cook me food from their countries even though I didn’t ask. They became my new friends even though we only met for a short time. Some people would be too worried or anxious to let someone they don’t know to stay in their house, but not me. I guess I will always naively think that people are kind (even though I got hurt several times for being too trustful) and they all have interesting stories to share. I still believe in humanity. This house is the witness of kindness and love one can give to other human being.
In a peaceful morning, I exercise or meditate on my backyard, which is big enough to play badminton. Being surrounded by nature, with only the sound of breeze passing through the trees and of birds chirping, would do good for one’s mind and heart. Often I would just lay on the mattress, close my eyes, and feel the life in me and my surrounding. It’s calming. What a wonderful feeling.
I love living here. 🙂