It was my first time to live away from home. New
neighborhood, new work environment, new people, new life. It’s safe to say that
I’d felt a bit out of place. As I’ve mentioned before, it’s not that far from where
I used to live and I am sure there are more people out there that live further
away from home, but please bear with me and don’t get hung up on the distance,
per-se.
On the worse days, there are things that I’d missed from my
previous living condition: Family, friends, my house, my suburb, and even,
which I hate to admit, mind you, I missed the mall. But what was surprising
even for me was that I missed the cars. I never realized they mean this much to
me.
Before all this, I used to be surrounded by cars. Coming to
the restoration shop every morning for six days a week, looking at cars,
working on them, busting my knuckles for them, getting electrocuted by them, I
basically lived with them. I know I mentioned that I am now working for an
automotive company, but it’s different. What used to be an engine bay, is now a
computer screen, what used to be a 14 mm box-end wrench, is now a computer mouse.
I also just realized how much I love driving. Ever since my
university days I have been fortunate enough to be able to have car as a daily
mode of transportation. Even if it’s just a hand-me-down, it’s my mother’s 15
year-old, 1.3 liter, stick shift Hyundai Getz, I love it to death. I learned how
to drive in it, and once it was mine to use, I drove it everyday. It took me to
university, to my girlfriend’s (at the time) house, to the restaurant or cinema,
and safely back to her house, we even broke up in it. I love driving it, even
when my AC won’t work or when in crazy traffic. Since I now have to leave the
car behind in my parents’ house, I don’t get to drive it that much anymore. I
feel like a big part of my life is missing.
As time goes by, I was starting to get the hang of it.
Making my self comfortable with the new way of life. Special thanks to all my
super cool colleagues and my neighboring coffee shop. But a year into it, a big
change came through. Long story short, in early 2019 the company will send me
abroad to be trained as a designer for two years. So, it was time for me to start
the mandatory language course, as a pre-requisite. From August to December 2018
I have been learning a new language. It’s a full day program, from nine to
five, I’d attended a language class. The language course center is further away
from where I currently live, it is literally (literally in its truest sense, not
the Jaksel literally) in a neighboring city.
As of then, everyday I rode my cousin’s trusty under-bone moped
that I’ve borrowed from him, to the other city to attend the class, and back.
Since I was the only student at the time, so it was just me and the teacher, no
classmates. It’s fair to say that I genuinely felt out of place, again, now
even further away from home, no super cool colleagues, new city, and by the
time I arrived at my kost-kostan, my go-to neighboring coffee shop was already
closed.
But here comes the good part, just as I started to feel lost,
God sent me salvation in the form of this old beaten up VW Bug. It was just
after my first week of attending the class when I first saw this Bug parked
just across from my classroom. It definitely has seen better days, it’s got dented
right front quarter, different shade of white and rust here and there, but most
of the parts are still on the car as far as I’m concerned. It caught my attention,
but since I had a class to attend, I just walked past it hoping for another
encounter with it.
I finished my lunch early that day, and as I was walking
back to my class, I spotted two men working on the Bug and instinctively, I
started to chat with them. Turned out, it was owned by an ex-government
official and the car has been in his family for a long time. The government
work kept him busy enough for him to be unable to take care of it. Now he has
retired and wanted this car to get back on the road again. The two men working
on it was his mechanic and his ajudan (Indonesian
term for personal assistant/bodyguard). At that
time, they were working on the brakes, which were busted, as expected from a
car that has been sitting for a long time. Although surprisingly, the engine
ran really smooth! So they took the car around the complex, checking the brakes
as they go, and all had a laugh after the car refused to stop. They seem to be
having a really good time.
The owner’s plan is to keep it this way, no body work. He
wanted to make sure all of the mechanical parts are sound because he wanted to
drive it a lot. Several days later I saw the car with all the chrome bits and
pieces taken off. I thought they left the car again and decided to take all the
valuable parts off of it so they won’t get stolen. But I thought wrong, the day
after that I met the ajudan and he
told me that they’re polishing all the chrome. So that’s why in several photos
that I took of the car, some of the chrome trims have been taken off. I’m
relieved that the resurrection of this Bug continues.
One day, I was absolutely fed up with all the language
lessons that felt like giving up. But then, from the window of my classroom I could
hear an aircooled boxer engine revving, they’ve started the Bug once more, and
instinctively, I started to smile. My teacher must have thought I was crazy,
but just by hearing that sound, for a moment I felt like I was home. It
distracted me from the stress just like the last three paragraphs of this
article distracted you from the fact that I started this article with a non car
related topic, hell, I started it with contemplating my life choices. From that
time I realized that this random car from an unknown place made me feel close to
home, it represented my family, my friends, my town, and my favourite mall.
It’s funny how a car could mean more than a mode of
transportation. I believe many of you have experienced a similiar case of
feeling out of place. From my brief experience, all I can suggest is to look
around and find the little things that could represent your home. It may be a
framed picture, a necklace that your grandmother gave you, your neighbour’s
coffee shop, or like in my case, a little rusty VW Bug.
It’s currently mid-January 2019. I have finished my language
course and by the end of this month I will be off to another country. It’s even
farther away from home. I can imagine how hard it would be to adapt, new
culture, new language, new people, new life. But I’m up for it, because I know
that no mater how far away I am from my home, all I have to do is find another
beat up, rusty car for spiritual salvation.
Bariandra Ario