Actually, I have several homes in the land of Yang, even though I was only there for three weeks. I have a home in the megalopolis of Jakarta, another in the serene lion city of Singaraja, and finally in tongue-twistingly named Purwokerto, in the volcanic shadow of Gunung Slamet, mother of hot springs.
Why do I spell the country with a Y instead of an I? Because it’s not the country tourists see and rave about: it’s another Yndonesia, rustic and unmanageable, the land of Yang. And why Yang? It’s a very common word in bahasa Indonesia, a relationship word with five meanings all starting with W—which, who, what, whose and whom—and what seems most important in this land is relationships.
Everyone and everything is connected to someone and something else. You just can’t not belong in Yndonesia. You are part of a family, a clan, a village, a band of brothers. The whole country seems to be a family to one another, with all the good and bad features of family life. For me it was easy to be at home there, because everywhere such welcome was extended to me, that it felt like being a member of that family. Warm is not just a temperature, but the nature of the heart.
Finally, I call my new home Yndonesia because for me it is the land of Yes. It’s what comes of saying Yes, always the unexpected but never strange, always home, wherever the road leads, because we follow Him who goes before us. Yes, He is always already wherever He sends us, having gone to prepare a place for us, not only in the world to come, but in every world.Humbly, I offer some few glimpses of my homes in Yndonesia.
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