My name is Rambo!

My blog has been quite for a fews days now. Took some time out to celebrate Eid Fitri Festival after one month of fasting, the main festival for the Muslims. Eating tradisional food and enjoying Eidulfitr with the family in your homeland: Priceless! 😀

That being said, I would like to take this opportunity to greet Happy Eidulfitr 1429 to all my Muslim viewers. I ask for forgiveness from you guys, if I have wronged anyone during our just recent relationship. Thanks to all of you for your support and comments! May we all be consistent in our good deeds, even after Ramadhan, insyaAllah (God willing).

Eventhough it doesn’t really relate directly with the EIldulfitr, I would like to share with you guys a memory of my childhood years, during the time my whole family was about to leave for Scotland, where my father was going to further his studies…

“Ummi, do we have to change our name when we arrive there (in the UK)?” I asked, curiously. I guess that was the typical mentality of children my age, to ask things like that. After all, it was a new experience for me.

AlhamdulIllah, it was going to be my first adventure living abroad, and I was so excited. Even my kampong* school class got excited because of it! My family and I were going to live in Edinburgh, the capital of Scotland.

Scotland, my second home.

“No, you don’t have to. You can stick with you real name.” she replied.

“Oh, I thought we needed to change it…” I said, somewhat frustrated.

“What would you have change it into if you were to change your name then?” she asked

“Rambo!” I shouted.

Yes, John Rambo of the famous trilogy was my hero back then. Forget ultraman and kesatria baja hitam, Rambo can beat them all! With his trusty Rambo knife, big muscles and red headband, who wouldn’t want to be like him! And it was logical for me to pick that name too, since I am going to live in the West!

That was 16 years ago. How time have passed. And now I find myself living abroad again for the second time. This time, the East. Hopefully I can mold something out of my experiences in both places for my religion and country, God willing.

There is another interesting story relating to this though. Out of the classmates that got excited with me before my departure, one even made it his dream to study abroad.

“I want to be like him,” he once mentioned to his father (who is a close family friend, who in the end told us this story) concerning me going abroad with my family. (which, actually, I don’t deserve the credit, because I was just following my father!)

Around 10 years later, his dream came true, and he pursued his study in Melbourne, Australia. Now he has graduated successfully, working as an engineer and has even married young! Met him the other day in his house during the Eidulfitr ziarah**. Still as humble and as talkative as usual.

Good for him. 🙂

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*village

**the act of visiting realtives, friends or close acquaintances during the Eidulfitr season, to strengthen the brotherhood bondage among the muslims.