There is No Need for Love

Teacher of the Interior

Like guests who come from far away, Risda and friends are welcomed at the District Office, even complete with a ceremony speech Regent who thanked the willingness of young teacher teachers to share knowledge with children in the area left behind.

After the ceremony, all went to their respective school locations, each of them divided into several groups, Risda one group with Asrul to Semunying Jaya Village Jagoi Babang Subdistrict Bengkayang Regency which borders directly with neighboring Malaysia.

Risda and Asrul are very restless and seem restless because of the journey that has not yet seen the end, down the winding river flow flanked by a fairly dense forest now makes Risda have a fear that comes haunting.

“Still away Sir ?”.

Boat driver Pak Buang smiled at Risda. “Capek Yes Son ?”.

Risda finally smiled too though thin. “Iya Sir. Still far away ?”.

Throw back a thin smile. “No. It's not far away, at least another hour and a half Nak”.

Risda and Asrul clearly glared. An hour and a half is close. Risda so amused as well, with a speed like this Risda can count, and that means the journey still has a distance of tens even maybe will touch hundreds of kilo meters again ahead.

For those who are familiar that distance is not a long distance, but for Risda and Asrul it is not just far, but far away. Risda and Asrul looked at each other and finally shook their heads and threw smiles at each other, feeling funny even though they were less sure to know what actually felt funny.

“From Jakarta ya Nak ?”.

Risda nodded her head. “Iya Pak”.

Throw out another smile. “We have long expected that our children get a good education from a good teacher. Unlike all this time”.

“Indeed why Sir ?”.

“Not good teacher now. But the number is not enough, one school even there only has 2 teachers”.

Risda and Asrul both smiled and nodded their heads. Risda and Asrul already understand the story, because it has become a hot topic in the mass media, especially Television.

Such circumstances that make the government take this policy, so that the outer regions in NKRI are not further left behind. Risda has felt that he understood the situation, since still Junior High Risda often saw news on TV about this.

That's when Risda had a strong intention to become a teacher and dreamed of being able to share with the border community, giving a little distribution to Indonesian education that is still in a circle of dilemmas that are getting longer and longer, and now that intention has happened and is already at the beginning stage.

“Java people yes Nak ?”.

Asrul nods his head. “Iya Sir, I'm Javanese, but this Risda is not Sir, he's Batak”.

“North Sumatra ?”.

“Iya Pak”.

Remove mangut mangut. What is imagined in the eyes of Exhaust is how later the children of his village will get a lot of knowledge from two young teachers who seem very friendly.

“Bapak have acquaintances of batak people who hobby fishing, we often fishing the same. But he lives in Kotawaringintimur District in Sampit, far from here”.

“People Batak. Have long lived here sir, married to someone here or what about Sir ?”.

Throw away just shake. “If that Father does not know, it has been a long time or not you do not know, if married is not Son, as far as Father he lives alone, he works in Palm Oil Plantation there. What you know, His name is Haris Nasution, we call him Mr. Nas”.

Asrul nodded his head. “How far from here Pak residence Pak Nas it”.

Throw out a small smile and a head gnarl. “Away from the distance, I have never been there”.

“Kok can know Pak ?”.

“Pak Nas often here, fishing. He works on the plantation, there is a garden that is located near here, usually if Mr. Nas duty there, to the garden, he must stop at the house of Mr.”.

Asrul nodded his head. Risda looked at the driver's face for a long time, but again shifted his gaze to the river that had not been seen the end. Risda was rather impressed because of that clan, it was the same clan as her. Risda also has a surname like that, complete Risda Nalia Nasution.

“But Pak Nas Muslim”.

Asrul chuckled. “Kok pack but Sir ?”.

“Usually if the surname is ..”.

Asrul laughed rather strongly. “Neither Sir, Batak it is in any religion, only it is the most Islam and Christianity, especially if Nasution”.

“Means ?”.

Asrul could only laugh. “Indeed the assumption is widely accepted sir, people always see that Batak is identical with Christianity, the same with Java which is identical with Islam, Bali which is identical with Hinduism and or other”.

Pak Buang nodded his head, at least what the young man said was true as well, because in addition to Mr. Nas, Mr. Buang also knew at least two other people who were the same as Mr. Nas.

“Padahat in fact it is not, Batak which Islam is millions, the same as Java which is Christian, also millions. The problem may be, because the center of Christianity is in Tanah Batak while the center of Islam is in the Land of Java, as well as Bali which is the center of Hinduism in Indonesia, that makes the assumption there”.

Throw a nod of his head to hear Asrul's explanation. What Asrul said was quite grateful in his mind. That presumption may be true because of that circumstance.

Throw back the nod of his head, he felt very lucky to be able to talk to the teacher who would serve in his village, he now even imagines that how happy their children will be to have a teacher who is young and broad-minded, polite and pleasant to hear, this makes the driver feel not only happy, but also happy, but now it has flowers.

Finally, the boat leaned against a small pier made of wood, as soon as the boat approached, the villagers approached, they turned out to be the same as Risda and Asrul, waiting for quite a long time.

As soon as Asrul and Risda boarded the mothers greeted them with very happy faces, they clapped their hands while singing and dancing. Risda and Asrul look at each other and throw out smiles, various feelings mixed in each other's hearts, but it must be admitted, Risda and Asrul feel happy and begin to feel comfortable and calm with all the welcome.

...SERIATE...