Exactly one year ago today, I went back to Jakarta from Central Sulawesi after spending approximately four days there. During the trip, I visited Poso and made a stop in Parigi. Central Sulawesi is a lovely place that will always hold a special place in my heart — just like Lombok. It’s a hot region with warm-hearted people. Central Sulawesi will always be somewhere I want to return to without a second thought.

We started our journey from Palu, heading west, cutting through hilly forests before crossing roads along the coast. It wasn’t my first time traveling these roads, but at that moment, I realized that we were facing Tomini Bay, a place I had previously only caught glimpses of on postcards. It was, somehow, a moment of pure excitement, and I couldn’t have been more grateful for such a coincidence. Or perhaps it wasn’t a coincidence at all, but simply part of God’s plan. 

A random beach in Parigi

while everyone else run for durian, i enjoyed this beach - oh i actually dislike the smell of durian

I still remember that day quite vividly, the moment I was in the car with them. There were five of us: one person in the driver’s seat, one beside the driver, and the three of us sitting in the second row. I was lucky they let me take the window seat, which meant I had full control over opening and closing the window whenever I wanted. I was like a child excited about a new toy. I kept opening it over and over again, whenever I wanted to breathe the fresh air, admire the endless green paddy fields, or especially when we passed by the rivers. God knows I’m a huge fan of their rivers. 

That trip took up a major part of the journey. It was over 200 kilometers long, with around five to six hours of driving. There were laughs, small talks, catching up on the current and updated situation of our work, and of course, a few moments of silence in between. We stopped halfway for a meal, relaxing our muscles that had already grown stiff from the long drive. And the menu, undeniably, was fish. God, it's so Central Sulawesi-thingy! I didn't (and I don't) like fish, but for my love to Central Sulawesi, I would voluntarily eat it. 

I carried those beautiful fragments of memory with me: the scent of the fresh air, the endless green landscapes, the crystal-clear river water, and the distinctive aroma of their beloved durian — Durian Moutong. Beyond that, I also carried the painful stories of the earthquake and tsunami that struck the region in 2018, the barely noticeable trauma buried beneath the city, and above all, the resilience of its people.

Durian Moutong

Paddy Field Behind The Hotel Room

Why are you looking at me? (oh, the trash bothers me though)

Fruit sold on the road

Their River

There were a few people whose presence felt surprisingly influential, even though we only met for a short while. They made me reflect on what I had been doing in the past, and they also made me to rethink the way I live my life.

Someone was kind enough to share her personal story with me, and I remember thinking how generous she was for allowing me to glimpse such a personal part of her life. She told me that she had recently discovered a new hobby: repairing watches. When I first heard about it, I thought, 'oh, that’s quite unusual' but in a good way. It was so unique. It was my first time meeting someone with such a hobby. It all started when she watched tutorial videos about replacing watch batteries and doing simple repairs. She realized it was actually quite simple, so she began buying basic tools and equipment.

She started repairing her own watches, and surprisingly, it worked. Later, she even offered free watch repair services to her colleagues as a way to practice her newly learned skill. She showed me photos and videos of the watches she had successfully fixed. What stayed with me the most was the way she told the story. I noticed the excitement in her voice and the spark in her eyes while showing me her work. There was something so beautiful about seeing someone genuinely happy and proud while talking about something they truly love.

Since that moment, I began questioning myself: What is my hobby? Do I have any hobbies other than reading? If I’m not working, what do I actually do? That question was stuck in my head for quite long time. Perhaps even until now. They linger there, while I still don’t fully know the answers. I’m trying, though. I’m trying to find them. But maybe I don’t actually have to find a hobby. Maybe I simply need to create one. Well, perhaps?