How I miss English
It was a long time ago… like 7 years heading back from now.
My first time landed in a strange land where I was
awarded an unpredictable scholarship from fine international schools that just established
in the southern part of Bogor. The boy who barely went to school during junior
high school, had a motto of “no smoking no life” since grade 4 of elementary
school, sleeping always in the middle of class hours, playing hide and seek to
avoid getting slapped by the seniors, and proud to get 40 out of 100 in Bahasa
Indonesia National Exam that later that time I found out I had wrong answer key
my friend gave me. You can tell how I was back then.
But 7 years ago, everything started to change.
It will always be my life story that find me
satisfying to tell to whoever I met. You couldn’t tell how Sundanese boy,
living all the time in a village, surrounded by a villager of course, and out
of sudden living in a very diverse people, English environment, and with full
scholarship in hand.
My first time entering the assembly with Foreigner as
the Principle of the school, all teachers speak no other than English, it’s
just unforgettable moment of seeing how stupid and doom I was. Looking around
people just talking and seemed to understand what the front people was talking.
And yet, me, looking alone with my friend who was as stupid as the same as me,
just making joke from anything that could be a joke. So that, we didn’t look
someone so stupid.
Later that on, I started to adapt and embraced my
incapability of dealing with people who were really well in speaking in
English. My first week of the class, was the orientation, all of the agendas
were written and delivered in English. All I could do was only telling jokes
and showing them how I admire all of them, in Bahasa or even Sunda. No more,
and more less.
I still clearly remember when the school had to give
special additional class for those who couldn’t really understand well in
English. So basically after 2 or 3 weeks of class started, the school were able
to notice some students that apparently stupid but lucky to get to the school
with scholarship. I can manage to express “lol” for what I just said. But it’s
true. I never had any eligibility nor capability to show off so that people
would agree that I deserved one. But yeah, no, only cheap jokes to tell.
So, jumping into conclusion, I was dumb, like
literally bloody moronic dumb.
In my school, I guess the principle was quite nice. So
there was no chance for students to look dumb, even academically they were,
some of them obviously. But for those who had a very low grade which was below
average, the school gave Remedial to improve the grade. I am not really sure, I
guess during 3 years, every semester consisted of 12 to 13 subjects. And I
could really tell, from those 13 subjects, congratulate me that I had all the
remedials for all of them. Like all of them. Literally all of them.
All my grades were swinging low beneath the average
ground. All the teachers acknowledged me that I was a very noticed person,
helpable person, and a student who required 24 hours learning to catch up all
the materials. Unfortunately, I had to stand up all alone.
Despite of having to stop from smoking and cheating,
the school really shot me in the brain, to rethink my purpose of life. My first
year as a dumbass was enough for me. I felt being left out of the class, had
all the remedies while everyone else were enjoying After-Class competition.
Grade 11th, I started to learn English,
having conversations with so many people possible, learnt to write
academically, read the textbooks more often. Most importantly, I started to
have courage to speak with no brain to think what I was telling was
grammatically correct. I just speak, thoroughly. Hence, I could say, I was
improved. Better than before.
I could manage to be the student who joint
international curriculum at the 2nd grade, even though I couldn’t
manage to pass the test, but there had been a major change in my life. I felt
smart. Yeah. Once.
I went through all national exams, quizzes, and many
assignments written and delivered in English. I can speak, argue, and commentating
something with English. Ever attending international college and university
with native instructors, able to write journals, and understand the world, in a
shallow mode still.
Now long story short, I moved to school where I don’t
have English partner to speak with, a medium to argue, and consequently
constantly lowering my confident to speak in English. But still, I felt quite
forward, because when you understand English, you understand more in seeing a
problem and how to solve them. Having more resourceful because of endless reference,
broadening knowledge and conceptualize the solution.
Writing to you, is my practice to maintain my
confident, restore my courage, and revitalize my spirits. So here I am, I am
back, 22 years old, live in Jakarta with little happy, little pressure, but
alive. I am back to you in a second. Cheers.:-)
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