There should be no other pleasure than making an escape from your daily boring life and starting a new recognition of being yourself in the middle of the crowd. Inyiak made the approach by inviting us to his house in Lubuk Buaya for a gala lunch, say. I had just came back from the workshop the day before, when they delivered the message for the event. Nice, it could be a great moment to stay together with all class of 2003 before Ramadhan. But, it rained very heavy, I thought only a few of us would gladly join the party. But, I was wrong for a great extent.

galalunch

Picking them up in Pattimura, there were Bundo, Biya, Refi, Oska, Yogi, Alin, and Ningsih, the rain wouldn’t care to stop. The other had just departed by minibus. They just poke fun all the way to Inyiak’s house, la plaisanterie, giving commentaries on anything we saw, did, and said. I missed all this time. Thirty minutes were enough to get us there. On normal condition, I could get there half of the time. The buddies had making crowd in the interjenction, waiting for others to march to Inyiak’s house. There were about 30 of us making a corner in the street; a good amount  to consider the unfriendly weather.

I thought Inyiak hadn’t just woke up from his dream at that time, but all went with the wind, when I saw the preparation. He and his mom had worked out to serve anything what a gala lunch need of. There were roosted fishes, vegs, samba lado should always be favourite, even kerupuk jengkol: I had forgotten the taste of the last stuff since years ago. I embarassed myself for not giving anything significant cause they had demanded something from Malaysia. What I did just buying some candies and kerupuk for no good cause in Yossie department store. Walala!

Taking pictures had been the tradition. Hundreds of posing and style had been deployed in camera. We were all indeed, camera maniacs, who could spend all the time with the blitz. The sad thing was that the core point of the event itself lost its sight. What was it all about? Was it the time to hang out? We had done the same thing overtime in campus, cafes, Khaidir library, and jurusan. Was it the place to share experience? I didn’t think so, since most of us just laughed out loud for humble jokes, and busied ourselves with pictures and useless moves. Was it the time to find self-recognition? Yes, I thought it was. We played pro-wrestling, we laughed and talked like we never did before. We sang the songs like we would never be able to do so anymore. But, it was all the series of things we would never forget for a great length of time (at the bottom of this snece, there was mister crocodile, holding up his breath for we jumped over his body). We couldn’t get enough.

We tried to secure the relationship, cause we realized that things could never be the same in the future. Thirty years to come, I thought I could never see Pole, Bundo, Inyiak, Adan, Yogi, and others with these moves. I thought I could never look at my friends the way I did this time. Today was the moment of epiphany: let everyone find him or herself in the middle of the crowd. The silent would always be the silent, the blubber was just the same, the troublemaker, though sometimes was good-mannered, should always find themselves as the center of all wreck and havoc. Everyone tried to find a reason to rationalize every action, raison d’être; that was the way we did in the gala lunch at Inyiak’s house.