On being adopted

My parents didn't tell me that I was adopted until I was 17. The reason was that my father was so scared to communicate it to me, he was worried about my reaction. We had a small family meeting around a week before I moved to Australia for my Bachelor's Degree. We all sat down on my parents' bed and my mother began talking.

"There's something we need to tell you", she said.

It sounded serious. She started bawling her eyes. She explained calmly that both my brother and I are adopted, from two different places. My brother was from Surabaya, East Java, and I was adopted in Jakarta. While I was suprised, I knew it anyway. I look too different from my mother. She was caucasian, with very pale skin, and a sharp nose. I also feel so different from the rest of my family, I think differently and it could be frustrating while growing up. But that was a good confirmation that, yes, I have no genetical attachment to any of my family members. We're like a gang of people who live together, and connected by love and care.

For years, it haunted me. Who are my real parents? Do I have brothers and sisters?

I was left behind on the front steps of Cipto Mangunkusumo Hospital in Central Jakarta. I was dying from dystentery (OK, that's just a fancy way of saying I almost shat myself to death). Whoever left me there left a fake address and name. I don't see the point of leaving any information at all.

Growing up with my adoptive parents was quite a ride. Whenever my mum took me to any public place, everyone stared. And of course, Indonesians have no sense of privacy and have no shame for being intrusive. They would come up to me and say "How long have you worked for the madam?". They immediately jumped into the conclusion that I was her domestic housemaid. So, jokingly, I answered "All my life". Otherwise, if my mother mentioned me being her daughter, they would stare at me, puzzled. If they weren't brave enough to ask, they'd stay quiet and very obviously whispered amongst each other, OR, they would ask "how is it possible that she is your daughter?". My mother would just politely laugh and say "my husband is Indonesian, she looks a lot like her dad".

Adoption is weirdly still being seen as taboo. Even though, behind closed doors, it is quite common. I hear so many stories of people having too many children, so they pass their smallest child to be adopted by their sisters/brothers. But the culture of secrecy is well-guarded. Either from the fear of taboo or the fear of the negative reaction of the child. Indonesia is not a confrontative culture. "Better not speak about issues", and sometimes "better not speak about the truth if it only causes issues".

I really don't see why adoption is taboo. I can only thank my parents for picking me, for raising me, even though I am not their flesh and blood. Isn't that special? They saved my life. Every Mother's Day I told my mum, "Even though I wasn't born from your womb, I was born from your heart", and it would always make her cry.

Mum was a very eccentric woman. If I am eccentric, it's because of her. She taught me to be myself and not give a damn about what other people have to say. Walk against the currents, find my own way, don't join in a pack mentality, think for yourself. That was all from my mum. However, mum was also a tough mother, sometimes yes she would smack me, violently snap at me, throw objects around and call me names, guilt-tripped me, and along with other things that would have been categorised as "abuse" on current day terms, but she only learned that from her experience growing up with her parents. She grew up the Ukrainian way, being a child of immigrants in Australia. But, boy she made me tough as nails. However, there were some things I wished she didn't do. But I knew she loved me, she adored me until her end of days.

My father is a funny man. He was a major trouble-maker back in his younger days. His father, the Police Chief of his region, had to capture his own son in several occasions. He was the shame of his family. And in the typical Javanese way, the elders in his family would say "Look at so and so, don't you want to be like him?". It angered my dad, and it fuelled him to be better than everyone else. He is a gifted mathematician, and even went to The University of South Florida to do his Masters in Engineering. The doubt his family had on him only pushed him to be better and better. By the time I was 9 years old, he was already a Director of a major international company in Indonesia. He was chased down by ministers and presidents. He is a real success story. But my dad is a typical Javanese man. Obsessed with status, money, but a terrible communicator. If we had issues at home, dad would get mum to talk to us.

Adoption shouldn't be taboo, adoption is beautiful. You are giving a child a chance to live and have a future (Although I have heard of horrific stories of adopted kids being treated like animals - in that case, why did you adopt at all?). My theme song for my adoption is Pearl Jam's "Alive", here Eddie Vedder recounts the story of how his mother told him that his father is not actually his real father, because his real father is dying when he was 13. But what matters is, he is alive. And that's how I will live my life. I live my life knowing that I was saved. I am here for a reason. I will forever be thankful to my parents for making me a part of their family. I mean, let's face it, we did make a pretty cool gang :)

"Son," she said

"Have I got a little story for you?"

"What you thought was your daddy

Was nothin' but a-"

"While you were sittin'

Home alone at age 13

Your real daddy was dyin'

Sorry you didn't see him

But I'm glad we talked"

Oh I, oh, I'm still alive

Yeah, yeah, I, oh, I'm still alive

Yeah, yeah, I, oh, I'm still alive