Rest in Love, Auntie Dhani
The first time I met Bama’s mother, she stood smiling in a loose red dress inside the garage of her previous home in Semarang, under the flight path of passenger jets arriving at the city’s airport. It was July 2015, and the second week of a six-month backpacking trip that Bama and I dubbed the “Spice Odyssey.” I called her Auntie Dhani; soon enough she had shortened my name to the more Javanese-sounding “Jem” for convenience. The ensuing crash course in the do’s and don’ts of Idul Fitri (a.k.a. Eid al-Fitr) was softened because she embraced me not only as a guest, but also as an adopted member of her small family. In little more than a week, she had nicknamed me “the funny son.” Read more
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