Two months into my reintegration back to my 'home country' is not easy, but definitely not as hard as I thought it would be. Being able to reconnect back to old friends (some I have not met in 12 years - since I left primary school), having conversations with friends and families in a whole new different level, finding new friends and doing things that I never had the time for in the past are some of the things that makes this reintegration process a lot smoother.

Of course there are many many times when I miss being able to walk along Lambton Quay at 2 pm on a Saturday for window shopping. Or going for a Sunday brunch. Or just hanging around at Te Papa and then walking along the waterfront on a lazy summer afternoon. Oh, dont forget the coffees. At very odd times, the smell of Twinning's Earl Grey reminds me of my work place, the smell of Nescafe Classic reminds me of the MC's office and everytime I listen to Elemeno P, I remembered about you party people *I know I know, how could you not?*- you know who you are. There are so many other reasons why I thought re-integration is hard, very hard indeed, for me.

I used to think Jakarta is a wild, useless city where people at my age are only into partying, prettying up and spending money on the most unnecessary things on the name of beauty, fashion and status. Young people of no opinion and have no care in the world's issues. Shallow people with big ego in nice dresses. This is what I saw at my 3-weeks-at-the-very-most-holiday visits.

How can I possibly be friends with these kind of people when you are normally being surrounded with passionate, committed, hard-working people? People smarter and wiser than you are, that you learned a great deal from? People so inspiring, that you are inspired to do your best in everything you do and finish what you started. People who have hopes in changing the world and actually doing something about it.

...

The three weeks that I had, was just enough to say hi and bye to the big family that I'm a part of and to the different circles of friends. Three weeks was barely enough time to go through the long 'what-to-eat' , 'where-to-go' and 'what-to-buy' lists that I have every time I come home. Three weeks is only three weekends.

The fact is, three weeks is not enough time to observe life in this city more than meets the eyes. To hold decent conversations about social economics issues, politics, environments. To understand what the hell is going on in this country and where is it going to. To hear other people's opinion about life and about world. To dig deeper.

I'm glad that I *finally* spent more than three weeks this time. The people I met and the conversations I had - have completely given me more hope of the potential of doing something meaningful and not being someone else just because of the environment around me . I'm glad that I had that 3-hour-coversation in a foodcourt talking about stuff other than shoes and dresses. Similar conversation that I used to have at 10 pm in the MC office. Random shit that opens mind and challenges your view.

I'm hoping that this continues on with different people at different time and place.

So, who moved my cheese?

No one. It just comes in different package.

Here, there, and everywhere...

There is nothing can beat a good old sunday morning yum char brunch with good old friends.