Becoming Fifi: Chronicle of Change - 03

March 1st

Dear Journal,

I write to you from thousands of feet above the ground, nestled within the confines of a jetplane that's hurtling towards the unknown. It's strangely exhilarating, a rush of adrenaline and uncertainty that has my heart pounding and my thoughts racing.

The TESOL course I signed up for was surprisingly brief and manageable. A little over twenty hours of modules, a simple enough test at the end, and voila! I was certified. I must admit, Journal, it felt almost too easy, too straightforward. But there I was, armed with a certificate that made me officially qualified to teach English abroad.

And what better place to venture into this new chapter of my life than Jakarta, Indonesia? The bustling, vibrant capital of the country my family hails from. They're not from Jakarta itself, mind you, but from another island in the vast archipelago. Yet, I felt a strange pull towards the city, a yearning to immerse myself in the culture that's simultaneously alien and familiar, to trace the roots that I've inherited yet know so little about.

Telling my family about the decision was a rollercoaster of emotions. Mum, bless her heart, went from shock to reluctant acceptance to eventual enthusiasm. Dad, ever the stoic, just nodded and mumbled something about being careful. He always has been a man of few words. Ani, however, was over the moon. She swept me up in a bear hug, her eyes twinkling with pride and excitement.

Today's illustration isn't of me, Journal. It's of Mum and Ani at the airport, their faces a mixture of joy and sadness as they saw me off. Mum, in her comfortable black high neck jumper and jeans, her feet clad in flat shoes, looked every bit the concerned mother, her eyes misty with unshed tears.

Ani, as usual, was the epitome of chic elegance. She was dressed in a pair of stylish jeans that accentuated her curves, a cream-coloured blouse with a feminine bow at the neck, and a pair of ankle boots with a chunky heel that added an extra couple of inches to her height. It was such a stark contrast to my own attire.

(See illustration 03)

I often find myself wondering, Journal, about the stark difference between what men and women wear. I can't help but question how different it must feel to dress in such stylish clothes, to walk in heeled boots, to feel the sway of a blouse. It's not that I desire to experience it, but it's a curiosity, an artist's curiosity perhaps, of how different materials, shapes, and forms feel and influence one's movement.

Saying goodbye to Mum was hard. Her eyes welled up with tears, and it took everything in me not to break down myself. I reassured her that I'd be back within a year, hopefully with a host of experiences and stories to share. She smiled, her tears trickling down her cheeks, and simply said, "Take care, David."

Ani, on the other hand, was all smiles and advice. "Just relax, have fun, and try new things, David," she urged me, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Travelling will change you in ways you can't imagine right now. Just go with it, okay? You know, I bet the next time I see you; you'll be a completely different person."

A different person, huh? That's a daunting thought. But perhaps change is what I need, Journal. Maybe this journey, this leap into the unknown, is exactly what I need to evolve, to discover a new facet of myself.

So, here I am, Journal, on my way to the other side of the world, my heart filled with a cocktail of excitement, anxiety, and a sense of adventure. The cabin lights are dimmed now, and the drone of the plane's engine is a distant hum.

Outside, a universe of stars twinkle against the velvety black canvas of the night sky. It feels almost surreal, like I'm in a liminal space, between my old life and the promise of a new one.

There's an old saying that the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Well, Journal, I've taken that step. There's no turning back now. It's just me and the open road (or in this case, the open sky).

And so, as I buckle up for this thrilling ride, I have only one wish. That this journey transforms me, moulds me into a better, stronger version of myself.

Here's to the promise of new beginnings, Journal. Here's to the exhilarating uncertainty of the unknown. Here's to the adventure that awaits.

Until my next entry,

David.