Mom's Not a Prostitute

Star and Asa Disappear

I lost grip, role model. And a pair of stars that often illuminate my nights. Ambo Eye.

---

Watampone, 1992

I was glued to the front of the study table. Looking at the diploma I just got this morning after three years of struggling. The struggle I mean has the real meaning of struggle. In this village, being able to complete education until SMP is considered to be great. Out there, some friends whose fate is much more lucky may be busy taking care of admission to High School. I'm, just here. Trying to make peace with destiny.

Ever since I was first asked about my aspirations when I was in elementary school, I always answered that I wanted to be a teacher. I don't know. For me, that teacher is great. It can make people who didn't know anything very smart. Sometimes even beyond his own intelligence. But now, reality forces me to bury that ideal. My parents were farmers. And all the impossibilities that had been looming over me became more and more apparent after Ambo* fell ill and finally came home to His side six months ago.

In my eyes, Ambo was not just a father, but a formidable fighter as well. His body never gets tired to make us happy. Whatever he would do to see us smile. If the planting season is over, he pulls the bendi* while waiting for the harvest season. After pulling the bendi, he did not immediately rest, but to the rice fields to see the development of rice seeds. Mana knows a lot of grass growing in between. Or even a pest. He also of course still has to take care of the horse that accompanies him in search of additional sustenance throughout the day. Bathing and looking for fresh grass in rice fields so that the super strong animal still attracts passengers every day. All routines are done alone.

Ambo did have three children, but now the rest of me is still living with him. Daeng* Firman, since I was not born have migrated to Merauke and never come home even once to this day. He is married and has two children there. Daeng Ida, two years since the end of SD immediately married and followed her husband to Riau. He came back three times to see us. Last time I was in sixth grade. The previous return, I don't remember much. Maybe when I was very small. I know it's been three times just based on Mak's story. The jet-skinned woman often dyed the atmosphere of the afternoon on the terrace with a warm chat around my two brothers. He was always accompanied by a family photo album whose cover began to be eaten by termites. That thing will make it easier for him to remember every story that has ever been engraved. He was so enthusiastic about telling the events behind each picture. Even so often Mak repeated it, I became memorized. But, I pretended to forget and deliberately asked a question that could provoke the old woman's spirit to tell a story. I was happy to see Mak smiling in the story, though there was occasionally a clear glint in the corner of his hard-earned eye held in order not to slip. That way, hopefully the longing that mounts in his heart can be channeled, even though not completely. As the only child still by her side, I must strengthen.

Me and Mak occasionally help Ambo work in the rice fields. In fact, without Ambo's approval, Mak sometimes sought grass for horse food. Ambo doesn't like to be helped. He couldn't bear to see us doing hard work. He would rather if I focused on studying and Mak did enough homework. Most importantly for Ambo, we always welcome him with a smile after he works all day. He could always enjoy whatever food Mak cooked every day. And when night falls, the way to unwind is enough to relax in the front room, of course accompanied by Mak and a warm cup of coffee. When the banana tree next to the middle house of harvest, then there will be fried bananas between them. Just like that. They would chat around memories, occasionally about a future that still had to be met. The flame of the lamp creates a dim atmosphere, as well as their swaying shadows on the wall of the board. The no longer young couple managed to maintain household harmony after whatever storm they went through together. I secretly envy. And someday, may I have a companion as great as Ambo.

Ambo is not a machine that can work continuously. In the end the sturdy body collapsed after a creepy disease ruled his body. Symptoms began to show since Ambo often complained, he said he was tired and sometimes difficult to breathe. As a layman, Mak only gave him drugs purchased at the stall. With such conditions, he remains active as usual. I always go home early because I feel tired. Mak always asked him to stop working and take a complete rest at home. Let Mak and I take care of the rice in the rice field. But, Ambo is quite stubborn for work. He only wanted to listen to Mak when his stomach began to grow unnaturally. Some other parts of the body such as the legs also experience swelling. Sort of filled with liquid. Of the several neighbors and relatives who came to visit, many opinions about the disease that Ambo was suffering from. Whatever it is, we just want him to heal as soon as possible.

All kinds of efforts we do for the healing of Ambo. I don't know how many potions Mak made and was forced to drink by Ambo. Often Mak is forced to pedal a bicycle covering a distance of tens of kilometers to meet smart people there according to directions from anyone. Usually he went home with a bottle of water that he said had been given a healing spell. The water will be consumed by ambo within three days. And without ever complaining, Mak will be there again. Bring home the same bottle of water. If after the toilet a few bottles but no changes lead to the recovery of Ambo, Mak will switch to another smart person. So next. If Mak is meeting smart people or going to the rice fields to control the growth of rice plants, I will take care of Ambo. Fanning, stroking his back, anything that could calm him down. Forgetting for a moment the disease that was eating away at his body.

From day to day, Ambo's condition is decreasing. His appetite is problematic. When faced with food, he vomits. As a result, his body grew thinner. But, his stomach and legs even looked increasingly swollen. His mentality also began to be disturbed. He is sensitive and spoiled. He could at least be left alone. At least there are people who stroke his back or fan it. Two things that make him feel comfortable. Me and Mak took turns doing it.

Through some acquaintances who were also nomads and happened to have come home a few months ago, Mak left a letter for his two children who were living each other's lives on a different island. He reported Ambo's apprehensive condition. And a week ago, a reply from Daeng Firman had arrived. On that piece of shabby paper he simply sent a prayer for Ambo's healing. Three days later, a reply from Daeng Ida also arrived. It's much better. In addition to prayer, he also sent rupiah sheets for the purposes of Ambo treatment. I don't know what makes the hearts of my two brothers have not been moved to go home to visit Ambo. There are only reasons that they can assemble in a row of beautiful words that are always able to make Mak understand.

Our struggle, long prayers that never seem to break, finally met the end point. God called Ambo back, after three months of helplessness against the disease we later knew was called the liver. On that day, many things within me that I felt collapsed together. Especially the desire to be a teacher. Without Ambo, things would be harder. I lost grip, role model. And a pair of stars that often illuminate my nights. Ambo Eye.

***

Foot note:

*Ambo: dad.

*Bend : delman.

*Daeng: call for sister.

[Connected]