Not Meant to Be

I woke up early yesterday. 6 AM to be exact.

I was excited and nervous and agitated and happy. Finally, I am going to have my much-longed-for long holiday.

The car that will bring me back to the city picked me and my stuff around 9 AM. My flight is at 9 PM. Look who’s excited?

I have some business to do in the city anyway. I have to exchange some money and pick up my passport from the travel agency. They tried getting me a South Korean visa. Deep within I know I can get a visa. But due to unfortunate events that is beyond my control and only Indonesian bureaucracy can explain, I did not get it. That’s another story of a lifetime.

The fact is I booked a ticket for Seoul and all the onward flights around the island a month ago. When I learned this heartbreaking news last week, it crushed me. I just threw money in the air. That flight cannot be refunded. Me and my cheap airline choices. I know. It is not cheap for me anyway.

But I cannot be deterred. Nobody can stop me from the trip. I booked a new set of tickets that will not pass by Seoul (which requires a South Korean visa for a Filipino even if you are just transiting and will not leave the airport) and booked a direct flight to Jeju while my passport was being sent back from the South Korean embassy in Jakarta to Medan.

I know I will have it in time for my trip.


Yesterday, as I unload my luggage from the car to our office in the city all jolly and perky because of my holiday mood, one staff asked me if I’ve heard the news. What news? My passport is lost. The courier company who received it cannot find it?

I was like “What the hell?”

I did not lose hope. I still have a few hours before my flight. I secretly thanked myself for going down earlier. I went to the courier company and that is the worst feeling in the world.

Imagine listening to people who looks half interested about my problem and whose faces don’t even show a hint of care. Those are the supposed ‘carers’ of my passport. And we don’t even understand each other! I thought I can understand basic Indonesian already but I realized that when emotions are high, you cannot be patient to understand them and string words to make them understand you.

I cried. That is my passport.

In short, I missed my flight. There won’t be any way in this world that I can get out of Indonesia that time.

I did not lose hope. I was hoping it can still be found until today.

I went back to the courier company. Same story.

I want to pull out all my hairs, cry to high heavens, bawl and kick, but what can it do?

I talked to a very close friend who can always knock sense to my head and my sister. I know they will do me good.

It took quite a few hours for their words to sink in. Listening to me, they said was a mess. I was not myself. I cannot even come up with a good, comprehensible sentence. I was just a ball of depressed hysteric.

I did what I need to do. I forced myself. I went to the police station, filed a report, called the Philippine embassy in Jakarta, tried to salvage a few pennies that I can from all my lost flight, cancelled my hotel reservations, fed myself because I realized I only ate 2 spoonfuls of congee in the morning and it was 8 PM already.

And then talked to the same friend again. He asked me what happened to the person he was talking to earlier? I sounded much like my old self.

Well, I want to believe I am back to my old self

I started working again. I am going up to the hills again tomorrow to work.

I guess nothing can be done anyway. I can sulk all day here in the city but it won’t accomplish anything. I can stress myself by hanging out in the courier but I will just give myself a heart attack. I can mourn the amount of money and tears I lost but they can never come back.

It was just a series of unfortunate event. And as my friend said, the faster you accept it the easier it will be for you later on.

I guess he’s right. I know he is right.

This is just a bad case of not meant to be.

Do you have an experience that can top mine?

I just want to believe what my Dad said when I told him the incident yesterday. Maybe you’re not meant to be there, he said. Maybe I am not.

The directors’ words somehow lifted me up too. I was asking why does this have to happen to me? One said be strong. He doesn’t know the answer. Only the big guy up there knows why He wants me to stay. The other director said look at the bright side. Life is like that. Ups and downs. Just think of a toddler learning how to walk. How fast he or she will get up after falling says a lot about the toddler’s character. Chin up.

Well I guess I found the bright side. I must go home to get a new passport. I will be home. Soon.


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