Mbak Yanti has been our house maid for about 8 years or more. She is a good cook, a hardworking gardener, an Al-Qur’an-reading teacher, a good reminder also a good listener. She came from Kebumen with zero experience, taking the place of Mbak Irah, our previous precious one. I was in junior high school back then. We just moved and it was one of my worst years ever.
She is a bestfriend.
I can’t say it felt like just yesterday. There are too many things that happened, building a bridge between ‘those days’ and ‘these days’. They didn’t only build a bridge, but also a river, houses, and gardens that separate each of my life phases vividly, beautifully.
Mbak Yanti is one of my life phases, one of my beautiful houses. She marked my 8 years of adolescence. She knew how I banged the door everyday I came back from school because I was too stressed by the traffic. She knew how much I like my favorite food, how early I want my breakfast to be and she was the one at home whom I told about my first boy friend to.
In 2007, I moved to Bandung. I’m a type who doesn’t always come home on weekend. When I go home, I’d spend my days outside, meeting high school friends or inside, telling Bunda about everything ends up with having discussion with Ayah. My space for conversation with Mbak Yanti shrinks, down as a river. Along with the river below the bridge being built, another phase is carved.
Time is the true love of journey.
Today she would go back home to Kebumen and get married next month. I haven’t talked to her since last time I went home for Eid. I was in a rush of going back to Bandung that I only said, “oh, we haven’t chatted even yet,” then I ran to the car stop. I’ve been so worn out with exams, assignments, other responsibilities (all in plural) that I haven’t come home ever since.
So when she called me an hour ago, I cried on the phone. I miss her and I’ll miss her more.
Dear Mbak Yanti, congratulation for your wedding :)