As a girl that was born and raised in the hotel family, I am SO used to move around following my Dad’s footstep. Remember that time I told ya I went to three different school in a whole different places a year? I survived that stages as a kid. So I was like “why would I be surprised to live in a whole different places as an adult?”.
Making friend was never a problem for me. I’m a talkative sh*t by nature. You know me. So whenever I need to move places or countries I’ll be like ‘bring it on’.
Earlier in life, my Dad went to a vocational islamic high school and so prepared to be an Ustadh. What is it? It means a teacher in Arabic, but back home it means a someone who teach religious stuff.
But instead of doing final exam and finishing his high school, he was arrested by the local police because he went to the municipality and did a protest with some of his friends regarding their friends that weren’t be able to finish their school, I forgot the exact whole story. But anyway they were arrested because they don’t have permission to do that.
So since he did not do his final exam, he was straight up failed and had to retake the exam next year. My grandpa was pissed and ashamed of what my Dad did, and he withdrawn my Dad from that islamic school and basically told my Dad ‘Do whatever, I’m done telling you what to do. If you still wanted to go to school then good. Good luck trying to find a school that will accept someone like you, I won’t be helping.’
Fast forward to my high school days, I think we just finished our final exam and the whole class came to have a lunch party at my house. My sis brought her friends home too, so it was packed, 60 high schoolers in my house and my mom was like ‘Whatever, party should be over before your Dad come home. Spotless.’ and my Dad would normally be home around 6pm.
Everyone left by 5pm and just some of my closest friends staying for Monopoly. We were talking about how lucky we were that even tough we were rebels at school, we managed to finished it. And I was telling them about my Dad experienced of not finishing his high school on track, and I said ‘Yo my Dad finished his for 4 years instead of 3! and he was…’ and my Dad showed up at the door before I could even finished my sentence. His face was so mad, I think because we were all laughing at his life story.
I turned red and was so gonna say sorry to him that I tell this story to my friends, and my friends were all sit in silent, very awkwardly. My Dad then came in and said ‘What do you mean 4 years? I finished my high school in 5 years.’ then we all bursted into laugh…. He then sit with us and told us the whole real story. I mean, who would’ve thought he would be cool and even told my friend his full story.
Back to my Dad, he managed to find a private school that accept him, but he needs to retake the class from year 11. My Dad was in islamic vocational school and had different curriculum with the private school he enrolled. He did not have much choice so he took it anyway.
And once he finished his high school, he went to college majoring hospitality and started his career in the hotel as a bartender. I MEAN.. he was at Islamic school, then turned his life into bartending. It was almost like he was in heaven and then go straight to hell lol. But he did what he had to and look at my old man now, one of just a little certified hotel administrator in Indonesia. Gotta give him credit for that yo!
And if anything I could learned from his rebel story; We all had our time, but the past shouldn’t shaped our future. And that was exactly what he did.