A PIECE OF PEACE (A DREAM OF MINE)

A peace is a dream. Dreamt by almost everyone in this one wide world but also very close to be given in and be forgotten by same ones. It has been too difficult to make true. Only a dream on a humid summer and at last they only hope to face it in heaven upward.I was listening to their thoughts and hardly believe. I got my mind to the zero mind and tried to reflect it all again. I started recalling things I’ve got two years ago—an intensive learning of a right concept of world peace for eleven months. I was away for Japan as an ordinary exchange student on March 2004 and got back to Indonesia with million fresh ideas of a realistic peace.It’s not an impossible thing to do—no doubt about it now! Yeah we know differences are always there. It’s really easy to see, so eye-catching. It’s like when I was alone in crowd in the centre of Niigata, Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka or Fukuoka, guess who didn’t want to put an eye on me even for a second only to make sure there really was a stranger covering her head with a scarf? There were times I felt annoyed and I almost believed I was really different. In my host school—a Catholic Notre dame high school—I was the one who was Moslem. Also I was the only girl in a girl’s high school that obviously had colored-skin representing tropical climate in Southeast Asia between clear white skinned friends. Again I almost believed I was truly different. Only almost! But no. I kept moving with a vision that all those curious looks one day would be replaced by warm knowing friendly looks. It’s been proven successfully, though. August 2004, only four months to go, I had become not really realize I came from different countries with them. Who had not? My friends were just the same as me. Even homeroom teacher laughed to see how we completely mixed. I tried really hard to master Japanese and I did it. As a result, my friends told me to change my nationality.No, no, that was only a joke. Nationality was only a matter of administration, we did not need any piece of paper to feel we were one and laugh together. Difference exists however—even for me and my mom. There are differences in our blood-type, in our favorite foods. There are no two people exactly the same, aren’t there? Go opening your eyes widely now. Indeed there are so many differences, but they never become as many as same things among us. I and my Germany best friend have so many things that are not the same but we like each other. We are both girls. We have critical thinking, like to make a comment of any strange thing around us, love adventures and go trying new things. We like the same type of music, like reading, so many same things!There is really nothing to complain about.