Category: Indo of the month 2019

Hello there,

My name is Desiree “Dessie” Castro, the oldest of 3 siblings, Danielle, Deana and Dylan. Proudly I can say that I was raised with “Indo” family values by my oma Eleonore “Noortje” Barkey- Passage who some of you may know from Facebook when my uncle Bernhard “Ottie” Passage mentions her in his postings about “Rancho La Tuna”… That’s where I grew up on La Tuna Cyn Rd, Sun Valley, many Indos moved out there or near in the early sixties, The Cormanes, Keasberry’s, The Schrams, The Meijers, The Vander Geugtens, Lapres and many others. My mom is a first generation Indo born in SoCal in the early sixties and my dad American Mexican, looks familiar, an Indo going Mexican or Mexican going Indo ? Guess it’s a food and family thing, huh ? Now let’s go back to my oma, Noortje Barkey-Passage, she raised me in Dutch, I do understand ever single Dutch word including the “Indo vocabulary” however just like my mom and auntie I find it harder to respond back in Dutch. Also my late opa Frits Gilles Barkey who passed away in January 1992 spoke and sang to me in Dutch, he passed away when I was 13 years old and I do remember he left us at the age of 65 years young, born in Padang, Sumatra, drafted in 1940-1941 by The Royal Dutch Navy he got captured pretty quick by the the Japanese conqueror in 1942. It was the British who liberated my opa and many other Indo Europeans after Japan surrendered in 1945 and take over guard from the same Japanese soldiers who first were the enemy and then later protecting opa and the rest against rebellious Indonesian freedom fighters. After opa was recovered from those 3 terrible years in the camp, yes, trust me, opa got beaten up, punched, kicked, you named it, eventually opa died of reuma and the bad quality of life in the camp…opa joined the Royal Dutch Marines and fought against the Indonesian rebellious freedom fighters until 27 December 1949, the date The RTC accepted Indonesia’s independence, RTC stands for RONDE TAFEL CONFERENTIE, Indonesia’s founding President Sukarno declared Indonesia’s independence 17 August, 1945 and that is until today their National Holiday. In August 1955 opa and oma left “De Gordel van Smaragd” on the MS Modjokerto towards Rotterdam, they first stayed in a “Pension” in Dordrecht where my tante Monie was born and from there they moved to Rotterdam Zuid but as many Indos opa en oma including tante Monie and Uncle Bernhard “Ottie” Passage made the big move to start a new life in America The Beautiful. Opa started his new career at The US Post Office in The Van Nuys district and oma was a successful manager running her team of 25 at Richey Electronics down on La Tuna Cyn Rd, is just like yesterday when I waited for oma coming home during her break and make lunch for me. Opa and uncle Bernhard “Ottie” Passage opened their Union 76 gas station on Sunland Blvd in Sun Valley, very often that location was used for movie shoots, Chips, A-Team, I think I still have a picture of me and Poncherello and Mr T, that same Mr T is a patient of my doctor’s office where I work as a Medical Assistant and still going to school to become an RN just like my tante Monie. I’m a proud mother of a son and two daughters, I live in Lancaster but my oldest daughter prefered to stay and live with oma because of “de Gezelligheid” en oma’s cooking. I love it when I go on Socal Indo’s FB Page and see many Indo Mexicans or Mexican Indos or just say it “MexIndos” and share their stories, I always recognize one thing we all have in common and that’s our precious oma, I don’t know what the other Socal Indo omas do every day but my oma loves to read Dutch newspapers my cousin Michael Passage brings home every day from work, he gets them out of the KLM planes at LAX or she watches BNN (Dutch satellite TV station), my tante Monie picks her up and they go shopping at the Burbank Macy’s or grab a bite at one of the local Thai restaurants in The Valley. I’m blessed and happy to have my oma still around, whenever and whoever comes at oma’s, they know there’s always food for everyone, everyone is family at oma’s and yes, if your landlord has kicked you out my oma has no problems to be your temporary landlord !

Ms. Desiree Castro

…I know what you are thinking… She doesn’t look Indonesian; she looks Hispanic or Indian or Middle Eastern. At least that is what everyone else seems to think! I am constantly approached by people asking if I am one of the mentioned above or they simply start speaking Spanish to me or hand me leaflets in Spanish. I kindly correct them and say I am Dutch Indonesian, which they quickly question: What is that? Next thing you know, I am giving a history lesson to a complete stranger who was just looking for directions.

I am Tasha Howe (Van Raalten) is my maiden name and I was born and raised in Southern California. I have a lot of pride in my family’s history, which is probably why I don’t mind telling perfect strangers about it. When I think about the stories I grew up listening to, from both my Mom and Dad’s side of the family, I realize this is what history books are truly made of. Both my parents were born in Indonesia, when Indonesia was still a Dutch Colony (Dutch East Indies). Born and raised as Dutch-Indo’s during WWll and the Indonesian Revolution (also known as Indonesian War of Independence or BERSIAP) made for some interesting stories. Some heroic and others down right terrifying. During this time, native Indonesians were rebelling against the Dutch rule, fighting to take their country back. My childhood memories often consist of sitting at the table and listening to my parents, Ooms and Tante’s share stories of their experience during this time. I admit, as a child I heard these stories so often, I stopped listening. As I grew older, I grew to appreciate the history and listened with open ears. I only wish I had recorded those stories to preserve them for generations to come. I regret not learning how to speak Indonesian. My parents spoke Dutch to me, which I fully understand, however I would always respond in English. If they were speaking Indonesian to one another, I knew something was going on or I was in trouble because they didn’t want me to know what was being said! Perhaps this is why they didn’t teach me Indonesian, so they would have a language of their own in our household.

My father, Bart Van Raalten, was born in Surabaya to Cornelius David and Sophia Alice Hortense, many of you know her as “Tante Stanze” My Opa David spent time in a concentration camp, while the family spent their time in Singapore before it was safe for them to return to Surabaya. They made their move to Holland in 1956 and shortly after, made their move The States in 1961. It was here in Southern California, Monrovia to be exact, that my Opa David started the very well-known Dutch-Indo club, the R.O.S.I. Dutch-Indo’s from all around, would gather and share meals and trips together and keep in contact through this club, still known today. It wasn’t until many years later, did my dad take over as President, where he planned and executed many Dutch-Indo events and chartered buses to Vegas or Laughlin. My childhood weekends consisted of spending time playing arcade games at the bowling alley, while the Dutch-Indo’s bowled, or my parents having lavish parties or barbeques where Cendol and Sate were of course served. It wasn’t uncommon visiting my Oma on Sunday and walk in to find her cooking our favorites: Pisang Goreng, Lumpia, Saucijzenbroodjes and of course Pangsit Goreng, with her little dish of water, wonton skins and meats. I would sit with her and fold the wonton skins or (overfill) them with meat. Oh! How I miss her cooking!

My Mother, Julie Van Raalten, was born Julienne Chatelin to Adolf (also known as Ted) and Julianna and was the youngest of six, in Medan Indonesia. My Opa Ted held the title of President of the Justice Department that regulated bankruptcy and orphanages. They lived in a large home where they would entertain and throw parties for Opa Ted’s guests. During WWII, their home became a ticket item for the Japanese army, where my Oma held them off as long as she could, until one night she had the servants load everyone’s belongings and furnishings and fled to a nearby convent. The Japanese continued to search for them, as they were angry they had fled and also wanted their furnishings.

Shortly thereafter, our family did end up in a Japanese internment camp and my Opa was taken as a POW to Burma, where he and countless others were forced to build the bridge over River Kwai. After the war, the family fled to Holland, as so many other Dutch-Indo’s did. They lived in Holland for many years before making the move to the states and eventually planted their roots in Southern California.

I must share with you one more story, as it is quite possibly my favorite. My Oom Ettienne tells this story the best, I hope to convey it with the respect it deserves! My Mother’s maiden last name is Chatelin. However, it was actually “Chatelin Vicont de Muralt.” Our ancestor, a Vicont (a Count) de Muralt, had to flee France because of his religious beliefs and fled to Indonesia, which was still a Dutch colony at the time. The story is that he fell in love with a beautiful Indonesian Princess and wanted to marry her. The Dutch government insisted he drop the royalty from his name, so that is why we are just “Chatelin.” My cousin Nicole asked her father if he would like to petition to regain our full name, but he is happy being just Chatelin. I love this story and will continue to share it. To think we most likely came from Indonesian and French royalty paints a fairytale ending to an otherwise deplorable moment in time.

I have lost both sets of Grandparents, my Dad passed December 5^th 2011 and my Mom recently passed on December 5^th 2018. The courage, strength and success my family and our ancestors had, is instilled in me and my family. My cousins and I share their stories all the time and celebrate their lives and our Dutch-Indo heritage. We never take for granted the life they lived to provide the life we have.

I am proud to be a Dutch-Indo, living this life in Southern California, a SoCal Indo!

My Indo Legacy !

Since the dawn of time, human beings have been on a relentless search for a sense of belonging. For people all across the globe, identifying with a particular culture is a vital aspect of one’s identity. But how does one define cultural identity? Better yet – is it the people that define a culture, or the culture that defines a people?

For Indos, the descendants of a vibrant yet dwindling colonial past, the answer to that question is left for the individual. Most cultures can be traced back to a place of origin. For Indos, however, Nederlands Indië is no more. The beloved motherland now solely exists in the hearts and minds of the 1st-generation.

Nederlands Indië (Dutch East Indies), or Indië for short, was a place where Indo families have resided in for generations. It was filled with rich traditions and unique customs only relatable to the ‘Indischen’, people who shared mixed heritages from European and native Indonesian ancestors. Throughout the colonial period, the Indischen developed a notable Eurasian subculture and contributed a lot to society and the ethos of their time.

Following a contentious post-WW2 political climate with the newly-indepent Republic of Indonesia, Indos were expelled from the place that they’ve called home for centuries and were forced to seek new lives elsewhere.

So how can a group of people, uprooted from their homes and forced to assimilate into new countries, retain their cultural identity? It starts with two defining characteristics: the resilience and perseverance of the Indo people. 

I’m forever inspired by how my older relatives can be so lighthearted and kind despite everything they’ve endured. Indos are well-known for their openness and hospitality, and you’ll never leave their house with an empty stomach or without a smile on your face. Indos are never judgemental and will go out of their way to see that your comfortable and satisfied. 

My efforts to understand what being an Indo meant to me personally have been a complex, yet rewarding journey of self-discovery. To understand this, I’ll have to take you back to my unconventional childhood. My parents have always allowed me to absorb and embrace different ways of life, various ideologies and beliefs. Because of this, I feel internationally-minded instead of being confined to a single culture, and this sense of internationalism seems to be a relatable trait for many Indos. “Be a citizen of the world,” my parents would always say.

Growing up in Denver, Colorado, I relate to American culture first and foremost. My mom has the Dutch-Indo roots, and from an early age, I’ve always spoken to her side of the family in Dutch. My oma brought me up the Dutch-Indo way and I have a such a deep connection to Indisch culture because of her. She taught me to be strong-willed and independent. She taught me that no matter what life throws my way, I can always flip it into something positive.

My dad and his side of the family are full (native) Indonesians, and I’ve always spoken to them in bahasa Indonesia.  My upbringing felt unique because I’ve always navigated between the American, Indonesian and Dutch-Indo culture, while learning their differences and finding striking similarities between them. Growing up multilingual and multicultural has definitely given me a distinct perspective, and I’ve learned to be accepting and inclusive of everyone despite their backgrounds.

The idiosyncrasies of Dutch-Indo culture are reflected mainly in language, food, and behavior. Single phrases that mix multiple languages like “Ik moet gaan belandja” (I have to go shopping) or “ik heb de krupuk nog niet gegoreng” (I haven’t fried the kroepoek yet) are often heard in my family, and this hybrid way of speaking is a colorful remnant of Indo culture. 

Speaking of krupuk; food is arguably the most important part of our culture, the glue that binds us together. I can never come to an Indo gathering without hearing my older relatives talk about classic dishes for hours at a time! They’ll swap recipes for sambel goreng boontjes, talk about the “jajanan” (snacks) that they used to eat in Indië, and marvel at how Tante Anneke spent the whole night baking spekkoek.

There are so many aspects of our culture to appreciate and cherish. Our cultural pride is deep-rooted in centuries of tradition and an established hybrid mentality born out of a vibrant “east meets west” culture. Indo identity will continue to persist despite Indos no longer having a homebase or a country to return to, because our culture is passed on through stories, recipes, memories, and the importance of keeping family first. 

I’d frequently go with oma whenever there’s a kumpulan (a gathering of Indo family and friends). I’ve always enjoyed hearing their interactions, how they’d often mix 3 or more languages in one conversation, the sound of laughter and swapping stories, and the overall atmosphere that can only be described by the Dutch word “gezellig.”

I used to record their conversations on my phone and document them for later viewing, because I know my older relatives won’t always be around, many of whom are in their 80s and early 90s. I feared that once they were all gone, the Indisch culture would die out with them. However, I learned to overcome this false notion because I realized it’s up to my generation to carry the torch and keep our identity alive. 

If I can takeaway one lesson imparted by my family’s journey and the journey of Indos in general, is to always make the best with what you’ve got. Indos have been dispersed all across the world under crippling circumstances, but they’ve not only survived, but excelled in their respective homes. Instead of playing the victim, they chose to rise up and persevere against all odds. 

Indos are colorful, loud, expressive, nuanced, multilingual, multicultural, musical, kindhearted, understanding, approachable, and all around badasses! (Sorry Oma! I can already hear her saying “Ajo, joch. Niet zo vloeken!”) Regardless, the Indo legacy will never die. We are a resilient bunch and we refuse to fade away. Our culture is too beautiful, too boisterous and too substantial to be silenced. My name is Donni, en ik ben een Indo.

Hey there !

I’m Yvonne Eschweiler, but I’m pretty sure there are many Yvonnes out there who go by the name “Vonnie”, guess that’s an Indo thing, huh ? My dad is the Indo one, I always use him when people ask me what my ethnic background is, when the cops put “H” behind the section “Race”, I have to educate them that the “H” stands for Human, lolol, I usually tell them what it should be “Other” and not “H”. Eschweiler is German and there’s the mutt in me, dad’s family’s history goes back to the Dutch East Indies, Indonesia nowadays and once upon a time there was a German who was sent from Bergisch Gladbach, not too far from Eschweiler, Germany, how funny (my name) to Amsterdam to work for a trading company…He ended up in Batavia and history was made in the bedroom between the “Guling” under the “Kelambu”, you know in those days…to keep the damn mosquitos away from you while you can have more comfortable sleep under tropic temperatures. So old man Eschweiler played around with one of his “Baboes or servants” and that’s how there suddenly was an Indo EUROPEAN 9 months later, I don’t call him an Indo Dutch because he was German and the other part was a “Native”, not Indonesian, because it wasn’t there yet, according to my dad all of those who were born to a European father and “Inlandse or Native” mom born in the Dutch East Indies were called “Indo European or Eurasian”, but hey, throughout the years s Dutch guy got involved and so on and on until we play it simple and call ourselves “Indo”, at least I do…My great grandparents are Indo Dutch with the remaining German blood lines from and both were born on Sumatra, great grandfather in Belawan and great grandmother in Padang. My opa was born in Buitenzorg which is Bogor, Indonesia now and my oma who was born in Malang moved in 1957 to Dordrecht, Holland and in 1959 the moved to Bellflower where my dad was born in 1961, daddy married his high school love Rositta in 1984 the year when I was born, the year of 23rd Olympic Summer Games in Los Angeles and the year of Van Halen’s “Jump”, yes proud Indo here and I always educate people if they answer “Indo what/who”…Yes, Indo, like the Van Halens…. Opa and Oma never spoke about the Dutch East Indies and my dad raised me with “Don’t bother asking them” which I respected…Any Indos recognize similar situations like mine ? My mom is Puerto Rican, mix that with an Indo and the result is me, “Feisty and hot”, that’s what my “Abuela”, my oma from mom’s side always tells me to tell the guys before they start dating me, beware, beware, lolol. Being a multiracial child growing up in Socal with so many other people with a different ethnic background , I was born and raised with family values, both my Indo and Puerto Rican background can share two exact the same things we have in common which are “Food and Music” ! I remember growing up with parties we had at both sides of the family, food, music, music, food, laughter, arguing, gossiping, envying each other, blaming the Indo uncle he was flirting with the Puerto Rican aunty and vice versa, the not showing up from the oom and tante because whatever might have said or done and then suddenly after 4 or 5 months they make up again with the Indo/Puerto Rican pack and all is forgiven, I bet you Indos reading this you all have that family member who screws up big time and then you have this other oom or tia or tio telling you NOT to talk to them or avoid them or one of your cousins break up a relation and then there’s her telling you she will STOP talking to you if you continue talking to her ex….But at both sides of the families it was always a Happy Ending… My dad wasn’t too much involved in the Indo thing, he considered himself American which I respect and he doesn’t speak Dutch at all, understands it though, my opa and oma raised him in English and they only spoke Dutch when it was a no no for my dad to know what the conversation was about. It was after I visited Holland for the first and only time back in 2006 when I started to look more into my identity, there’s me, considered to be a Latina in The US but in Holland I was right away put in the category “Indo”…Ofcourse, where else than Holland, right ? But us Indo girls came in all sizes and shapes with different color of eyes, hair, skin…It was so much for me to dig in and especially when I visited the Tong Tong Fair/Pasar Malam in May 2006, some Indo please help me explain and agree with me when you arrive at that big tent and you go inside, the sounds, smells and people…it does something to you, I got sentimental and on the other side it was such a nice feeling to experience that all, seeing all the opas and omas talking to each other talking about their lives back in the Dutch East Indies, watching the shows on the main stage, experience both Indo and Indonesian stuff under one roof, I loved it… Ever since then I started to educate myself about my Indo Roots on line and thank God there’s a shit load of stuff. I’m kind of a private person and I don’t do social media, that’s right, I still have an old skool Nokia N-6, still has a freakin’ awesome Carl Zeiss 12MP camera though ! I’m an outdoor person, like dude’s stuff, motor cross, Formula-1 racing, Go Max Go Max, that’s how I met Michael Passage at a Red Bull Event who was wearing a SoCal Indo hoodie and I was more than happy to write my story of being an Indo in Socal. I work at an animal shelter in Whittier, trying to manage the place and trying even harder to find a right place with the even more right owners for the poor putty’s and pooches. The only real Indo recognizable Indo thing my dad has is that he eats rice with a spoon and not a fork and there is always “Krupuk/Shrimp Crackers” and “Sambal” within his reach at the table PLUS the dude puts “Sambal” on top of any sandwich he eats, you name it, he does it, anyone recognizes this ? Michael also told me about his get togethers where other Indos meet in SoCal and about the Holland Festival every last Sunday of the month of May, I love it ! So going back to the beginning of my story, I think I can’t or blame the cops when they put the “H” behind my “Race” because it’s kinda true because my mom is Puerto Rican… Thank you for your time reading my little IndoRican story !

Vonnie Eschweiler

Hey there !

My name is Rani … I grew up in The Netherlands and lived in Lelystad, Hellevoetsluis, Amsterdam and after The Netherlands lost the FIFA World Cup Final from Spain in 2010 I moved to Burbank.
I really like what SoCal Indo does, trying to reach out to us younger Indos throughout social media … and especially to read the stories of other fellow Indos. I can identify myself very much… especially when it comes to confusion … and the question “what or who am I” ?
Please help me out here, hehehehe! 

I was born in Manila, The Philippines. My mother is Filipina with Spanish blood running through her veins. Not at all complicated, at all hahaha but here comes the confusing part… but interesting enough for me wanting to know more. My father was born and raised in Amsterdam with what I thought both Indo parents and his brother, my uncle Frank Neijdorff, is an author of many books about The Dutch East Indies. My grandfather (Opa Neijndorff) has, as I have been told … some German in him and according to my aunt, also some Indian in him. From my grandmother I knew she was born in Bandung and I always thought she was Dutch and Indo. I knew that my great grandfather (Opa Hoepeling) was full Dutch, blond with blue eyes and all … and I thought that my great grandmother (Oma Ramelah) was Indo. Not so … Only a few years ago after I moved here my aunt told me that my grandmother was not Indo at all. Turns out my great grandmother came from India.

That totally rocked my world. What was very confusing for me now is only getting more confusing, but don’t we all have omas and opas with more than one different kind of ethnic background, I have Indo friends in The Netherlands who are light skinned but whose great grandfather was from African ethnicity and one of my high school friends oma was Indo with Chinese and Sri Lanka blood running through her veins and let alone my Indo hockey coach Ventje Worthington who looked so “Bule” and blue eyes….must be his British great grandfather from whom he got it from because his oma was a Mrs Subrotto, just saying. My mother’s side of the family was not very attached to my Indo father’s side … we hardly saw each other … most of the times at weddings or funerals. They did not speak Bahasa at home … which I find really unfortunate. From the Indo culture I only got bits and pieces from it … you know the expressions “Adoe”, “Ajoh”, “Een Fler or a Lel” (Light form of ass whooping, lolol) But thank God that I’m too familiar with our Indo kitchen, “Ayam Balado” is my favorite Indo Dish. As mentioned earlier growing up in the Netherlands, I had many Indo friends … but I still felt excluded because what I thought they saw me as a Filipina rather than an Indo. At least I had one good friend with whom I always went to the Tong Tong Fair (Pasar Malam) every year in Den Haag last week of May and first week of June, I always bought a Pasar Pass which allowed me to go unlimited times in and out, watch the shows, enjoy the Indo food and join the variety of workshops or seminars hosted by first generation Indos and that’s what I miss sometimes.
Now I am almost 39 … And I still have the question in my head … am I also considered as an Indo or not ? Unfortunately, there are not many of my family members left who could answer my questions … especially when it comes to our family tree. But hopefully you can help me a little bit with the question that I always carry with me and that is why I am so happy there is SoCal Indo social media and there is always an Indo who can answer not only my questions but also from other Indos wo I have been following online.

I came to LA for a while each summer for the youth camp of our church, Bread of Life. Eventually I met my husband Bo there. First as friends, chatting every day on Yahoo messenger until it became more than just being friends. Losing the FIFA World Cup Final from Spain in 2010 was for me a dark year especially when that team had an Indo team captain Giovanni Van Bronckhorst and Indo team players Johnny Heitinga, Gregory van der Wiel, Demy de Zeeuw and Robin Van Persie …I decided to move permanently to SoCal and marry my Bo … a year later we got our son which we named Marcello who loves to Facetime with my mom and dad in The Netherlands on a weekly basis…

My name is Fiori van Rijswijk and I’m honored to be writing a little bit about my Indo related history for So Cal Indo of the month January 2019. I’m 24 years old and originally from the Netherlands.

I moved to New York when I was 17 years old to pursue my education with an athletic scholarship (field hockey: a very Dutch sport). I studied psychology and art history/music. I’ve always been the only one playing music and my Indo grandmother was the main force in supporting this journey. She always encouraged me to continue to play the piano as long as possible. And being older now, I see it as the best gift every given to me.

I’ve recently moved to Los Angeles to pursue my lifelong dream of becoming a visual storyteller. I am currently pursuing my Master’s degree in Film and Television Production at Loyola Marymount University. I’m the 3rd generation to move to the United States. My main reason: to reach the world through visual storytelling. My Dutch-Indo background and family history are a main factor in this passion and drive.

I was born in Huizen (near Amsterdam) with two older sisters. My father (Dutch) was born and raised in Amsterdam. My Indo mother was born in Alblasserdam, the youngest of six. My mother’s family soon moved to Dordrecht. I spend most of my childhood in Dordrecht visiting my family, I bet many Indos reading this have lived or were born in Dordrecht.

When you look at me on the outside, I am often perceived as a typical Dutch girl: tall and blond(ish). I didn’t realize this till I moved to America. Many of my friends in the Netherlands came from different upbringings. Coming from a mixed cultural background was not perceived as unique. My closest childhood friend was also born into a Dutch-indo family. And, my childhood babysitter was Indonesian. I never realized how much the Dutch-Indo culture was part of my upbringing till moving to Upstate New York with little to no people who shared a similar history. Most people didn’t even know where the Netherlands were nor Indonesia. This has given me a lot of time to think about the Dutch-Indo culture and history.

My grandmother, Oma Ibu, (mother’s mother) was born in Malang, East Java, Dutch East Indies in 1919. She was the oldest of 12. Her father was from Dutch heritage and her mother full Indonesian. This mixed blood was eventually one of the reasons of my grandmother’s departure to the Netherlands.

My grandmother had three children at a very young age with her first husband, an Indonesian man. He passed away while working on the notorious Burma train tracks during WWII.

Being left a widow at age 24 with three young children, my grandmother met my grandfather who was part of the Dutch military. Together, with my uncle and two aunts, they left Indonesia after WII: Indonesia now independent, striving for purity within the country.

Arriving in the Netherlands, my grandmother had three more children: the youngest my mother. My grandfather passed away of lung cancer two weeks after I was born. I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting him, however, he has met me.

My Oma Ibu was the most special person I’ve ever met in my life. She has passed away as well. However, her spirit lives on in all of us. I am the youngest of all my cousins. As you can see in the picture, there are many of us. And none of us would be here without that one person: Oma Ibu (very center of everyone).

Even though my mother and her siblings have different fathers, they have always considered and treated each other as full siblings. I, as well, have always considered all my uncles, aunts and cousins the same. There are a lot of us, and I don’t know everyone as well as others, however, there is this special family connection. A type of unconditional love, warmth, loyalty, acceptance, humbleness, gratefulness, and strength. And I believe this goes back to Indonesian culture. Seeing family is like coming home. Family is always number one for me and I would go through fire for any of them.

I visited Indonesia for the first time when I was 7 years old and I remember it as if it was yesterday. Every time I visit, I can feel a special bond. I see physical gestures in the people that I recognize in my family or in myself.

And of course: the food. I thought Indonesian food was everywhere, till, again: I moved to America. Every time I am home, I make my mother cook all the Indonesian dishes I can think of and if she doesn’t feel like cooking, no worries: I will go to the nearby toko. When I cook Indonesian for some of my American friends, I will have to give them a list of guidelines, including but not limited to: you shouldn’t eat that whole piece of ginger or lemongrass, it’s there for flavor. Have more white rice when something is spicy. Etc. etc.

In America, I am considered a “white” person. Though, I don’t completely feel like one. However, I also cannot say I am “Asian”. I haven’t thought as much about how to label my ethnicity as I have in the past few years in America. For every little thing you apply to, you have to identify your ethnicity. I’ve been in the States for 7 years now and I still can’t figure out which box to check. There is none that fits how I feel.

With my visual storytelling, I intend to address many aspects of life: giving voice to those who are underrepresented and pushing labels and boxes. Family relations are a big topic in my voice as a storyteller. And I hope that one day, I will be able to portray more of the Indonesian culture in my filmmaking.

And I am honored to now not only be a Dutch-Indo but also a SoCal Indo!

http://www.fioricarmen.com