Forty days. Thirteen cities. A journey that moved between celebration and exhaustion, ceremony and solitude, travel as pleasure and travel as work. Summer 2025 did not unfold neatly. It unfolded honestly.
The first chapter belonged to Sumatra and to breathing space. Before the dense calendar began, I traveled across Medan, Bukit Lawang, Berastagi, Samosir, Parapat, Padang Sidempuan, and Bukittinggi. This stretch was deliberately unprogrammed, a literary body learning again how to walk, look, and listen. The journey culminated in Padang, where I attended an International Literary Festival. It was a reminder that literature does not only live in classrooms and cafés, but also in landscapes, long roads, and conversations that do not need microphones.
After that, the work accelerated.
Jakarta marked the first major professional anchor. At PDS HB Jassin, a large public discussion was held on the translation of Bunga-Bunga Iblis. The panel brought together Maman S. Mahayana, one of Indonesia’s most respected literary critics, and Rahayu Surtiati, a French literary translator and lecturer at the University of Indonesia. The audience reflected the gravity of the event. Among those present were Abrory A. Djabbar from the Board of Trustees of the HB Jassin Literary Documentation Foundation, along with prominent writers and national literary editors, including Kurnia Efendi and Putu Fajar Arcana. The discussion was sharp, open, and uncompromising. Translation was treated not as a secondary craft, but as a critical intellectual act.
Semarang followed, carrying a different emotional weight. The city became a site of preparation and culmination. Days were spent revisiting administrative details and final requirements for my postgraduate graduation in Indonesian Language and Literature Education. On 21 June, the faculty graduation took place. What I did not anticipate was the announcement that followed. I was named Best Graduate of the 80th Postgraduate Commencement, the highest academic distinction. I also received an award as an outstanding student for both academic and non-academic achievement, graduating summa cum laude with a perfect GPA of 4.00 out of 4.00.
The university-wide graduation on 22 June unfolded in a grand ceremony. I was seated in the front row, number two, alongside top graduates from Educational Management and English Education. I stayed until the final procession, fully present. There was no time to celebrate. Surabaya was already waiting.
The train ride to Surabaya lasted four hours and felt longer. The executive class was comfortable, but I spent the journey seated next to a woman conducting an uninterrupted series of loud phone calls. By the time I arrived, I was already tired. A fellow writer picked me up. The next day, Surabaya Read and Play invited me as a main speaker to share the long, uneven path of becoming a writer. The conversation was candid, grounded, and generous. Shortly after, I was welcomed at IFI Surabaya by its director, Sandra Vivier. The visit included the donation of Bunga-Bunga Iblis and Poetry as Autobiography to the IFI Mediatheque, allowing the books to enter yet another public space of circulation.
On 25 May, the journey crossed the Suramadu Bridge into Madura. Once the longest bridge in Indonesia and still an emblem of connection between Java and Madura, it felt symbolic rather than merely infrastructural. In Bangkalan, I was warmly received by Elok Tedja Suminar and her husband Robi Akbar, both writers, musicians, and cultural figures. Hospitality here was not a gesture. It was a stance.
That evening, the seminar drew major Madurese literary figures: A. Muttaqin, Didik Wahyudi, Timur Budi Raja, alongside students and journalists. The event was scheduled to end at 11 pm. It stretched past midnight. The audience stayed. Questions kept coming. Books were signed. Photos were requested. Before six the next morning, those of us staying at Elok’s house were already awake again, drinking coffee and continuing the conversation about poetry as if sleep were optional. It was exhausting. It was intense. It was deeply satisfying.
From Madura, I moved on to Malang. One full day was reserved for rest, an absolute necessity. On 28 May, I met with lecturers from the Faculty of French Literature at Universitas Brawijaya to discuss future collaborations. This meeting revisited the successful 3-in-1 teaching scheme implemented in 2024, which brought together UB lecturers, a visiting lecturer from Thailand, and myself as a literary translation practitioner.
From 29 May to 31 May, Malang became densely intellectual again. Meet-and-greet sessions and discussions took place with figures such as Dr. Yusri Fajar, Prof. Dr. Djoko Saryono, Prof. Dr. Effendi Kadarusman, Dr. Ari Ambarwati, Prof. Dr. Tengsoe Tjahjono, and other writers and scholars. A public discussion and book review of Bunga-Bunga Iblis and Poetry as Autobiography was held at Kafe Pustaka, organized by Pelangi Sastra Malang, with Wawan Eko, writer, translator, and academic, as the discussant. The conversations were layered, critical, and alive.
On 3 June, I returned to Jakarta. The days that followed were filled with visits and encounters. At the National Library, I met with Adri Darmadji Woko and Bambang Widiatmoko. At Taman Ismail Marzuki, I took part in profiling and an interview for Pojok TIM. There were meet-and-greet moments with Kurnia Efendi, Iksaka Banu, and Dr. Rusdian Lubis. One evening, after returning to the hotel utterly drained by the density of literary engagements, I found a birthday cake waiting in my room. No celebration. No candles shared with a crowd. Just a quiet reminder of my own birthday, which I had nearly forgotten.
I returned to Brussels on 6 June, one day after that birthday.
Summer 2025 was not a tour designed for comfort or spectacle. It was a long arc of movement between landscapes, institutions, classrooms, cafés, and private moments of fatigue and reflection. Graduation did not arrive as a pause. It arrived as momentum. The journey confirmed something simple and demanding at once: literature does not slow life down. It asks you to keep going, even when celebration must wait, even when the body is tired, even when the road keeps stretching forward.
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