Thank you Manchester
It has been a wonderful and thrilling dream, but it is now time to wake up.
How do you even begin to write about a one-year experience living in a dream come true? You can’t. Plus I won’t bore you with being too emotional, so this will be very brief, I promise!
I guess it’s true how they say to expect the unexpected. You can only prepare yourself so much before life takes you by your hand and pulls you in for a roller coaster ride. So if I could roughly describe my experiences in one sentence, I’d say it has been year full of love and loss taking in all the forms I could not have imagined or prepared for.
I met people from all walks of the Earth. I traveled to places and seen sights I didn’t think could be so breathtaking. I learnt new perspectives that gave me insights beyond what I have known or experienced, making me question why I have been so proud with so little knowledge that I had.
I also found solace in the ability to do things all on my own. Who knew that spending Eid walking around the city alone would also be enjoyable? Or how grocery shopping can be therapeutic, or perhaps, even distracting at times? At times, perhaps I even enjoyed solitude a bit too much.
Though if I could give a disclaimer to one thing, it would be about feeling lonely. No one told me how lonely a masters can get. The time difference with the folks back home was a challenge. Walking home from the library alone, in the cold, under the rain after tiring hours of lectures (this is before the pandemic, of course) does get a bit sad. And I think most of all, it is frustrating when you learn about new exciting things but don’t really know who to talk to about it. Particularly when you’re feeling hopeless being so far away from things back home, keeping good company to discuss what you’ve learnt during your master’s is also key to your sanity.
My sanity also was hit hard when I lost a few friends and family during my 1 year stay. I had various encounters with the people I lost shortly before I left for Manchester, mostly random and unplanned ones, and I was numb for awhile realising it was my last. Being far away really makes you hopeless and particularly worried about the people back home.
In essence, Manchester made me realise on what I already had, a good support system back home, perhaps being too comfortable with it all this time, and also think about what would happen next. With the pandemic, hardly anything is certain but keeping a positive outlook is more important than ever.
So I think I’ve had enough with all the theories of governance and politics and regional development and everything else in my comfort zone. I would really appreciate networking and getting to know empirical issues inside government. I think I would be able to help.
But I think it is also important to embed in myself that my time studying abroad does not mean I will be able to make change right away when I get back to work, if any change at all. Perhaps even a step back is also necessary. But I will continue doing my part. Bismillah.
“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.” ― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
P.s. Aside from my When in Manchester publication, of which will terminate here, I’ve left a trail of my Manchester things here, should you be curious.
P.p.s. Should you be extra curious about my research on the politics of development and land in Indonesia, with the title “Demarcating Between Investment and Redistribution: The Politics of Land Reform in Indonesian Oil Palm Expansion”, I’d be more than happy to share!
