This morning, I run an errand for my mother. She asked me to buy something, and since I will be going to the office late than usual, I happily obliged her request.
So I went to a shop. I parked under a tree. When I enter the shop, I heard voices from behind the tree. But I did not see anyone. So I ignored it and proceed with my business.
When I was walking to the car, I saw a group of men sitting at the table behind the tree. No wonder I could not see them. They were blocked by a canvas, once you walking out of the shop then you would see them.
I ignored them. One, because I do not know any of them. No familiar faces at all. Two, I considered myself as a shy and a quiet person. I do not jump in to the crowd and mingle. No, that is not me. And besides, they are all men, and that would double my shyness.
As I nearing my car, I heard one of them mentioning my late father’s name. He said, in Javanese, “..daughter of arwah [my father’s name]”
Eh, they knew me? How could they knew me? I mean I did not even recognized any of them, and yet they knew who my father was. I flattered and at the same time feel ashamed. I ashamed of myself for not being socialized in the neighborhood. I ashamed of myself for not knowing almost all of them.
My life only surrounded by home, workplace, back to home and go to workplace over again.That is it. What a boring life!
If I want to have an update about my neighborhood, my mother would be the source. Thanks mum for being my unlicensed journalist.