By Sinta Penyami Storms
In my native language, the word home can mean Rumah which really means house. Rumah in my Pamonian ethnic language, it’s called Banua. I’ve been living in the United States for over 20 years. Far away from my homeland. When I moved to the USA, Delaware was where I laid down roots, but it didn’t feel like home. For me, a home is where you can truly be yourself. I didn’t feel like myself living in the first state. I was always restless and looking for excitement. I traveled near and far to not be there. I dragged my three young children with me everywhere I went. When I found the Indonesian community in South Philadelphia, I felt like this is where I should be. Weekend trips to grab Indonesian groceries turned into several trips a week, making friends and attending Indonesian churches. After all, I used to live in the capital city of Indonesia, so Philly felt more familiar.
When my life in Delaware fell apart, Philadelphia was the only choice to go to. My people are there, I know there are jobs, and I know I can teach and perform traditional Indonesian dance. I rented a very tiny apartment around 7th and Oregon and was ready to build my life back. My young children were a little overwhelmed with the change of pace at first, but together, we learned how to use public transportation, known as SEPTA. We used to memorize the Broad Street Line stops. I was depressed, fired from my job, and always hungry on top of being recently divorced. It was a tough living but we were happy. Our weekend recreations involved walking to Ikea, Penns Landing, and sometimes when we had money, Liberty Place. That apartment had cockroaches. No matter how much I tried to clean it, they kept coming back.
My culture and community were my saving grace. I started my dance group Modero in 2011 with only three other members practicing in someone’s living room. Then one of the Indonesian churches’ pastors allowed me to teach in their church basement. That was when I got to know my community more and they took care of me. I didn’t charge for these rehearsals, I simply wanted to teach our traditional dances. I had mothers and daughters attending our weekly rehearsals and some days, they brought food. For me, that meant I wouldn’t have to eat just rice and eggs that day. Life was tough but I was grateful because I was finally discovering my true self.
Home for me, it’s not about the structure but it’s about the people and the feeling of being able to reflect, empower, and dream. I moved a lot in South Philadelphia, from an apartment to only a room in a house. That was all I could afford at the time. I didn’t mind it because I was just happy to be able to be myself. I spent my days doing community work, planning festivals, dancing, and attending community meetings. My home was all over the community, not only where I laid my head down to sleep. I didn’t own any home decorations when I was moving a lot. I only had a small writing board where I wrote down my goals and I vaguely remember one of the things I wrote was about building Modero. Eleven years later, Modero has performed locally, nationally, and internationally. I did this with my community and I did this at home.
For me and many Indonesian immigrants, we call Philadelphia our home. Some of us may still be able to travel to our homeland, but for some, Philly is our base camp. Some don’t even leave the city. There’s a sense of togetherness in our community that you may not find anywhere else in this country. The Indonesian culinary experience here in Philly is one of the best in the United States. I kid you not, I have traveled near and far to perform, and Philly still rocks the authentic Indonesian taste. It is probably the only concentrated Indonesian immigrant community with 13 churches and 1 mosque in the entire country. It’s so unique, mostly lower-income yet vibrant in many ways.
Home, again, to me is not just the structure but it’s the substance. So many businesses and folks come and go in our community but many are also still here providing history and stories, welcoming you with open arms. Indonesian food after 20-plus years is still pretty similar in menu variety and prices even with the inflation. Folks moved from Los Angeles and New York to Philadelphia to have a better quality of life, meaning a slower pace and more community support. This is why South Philly is home to me. It has provided me, and I believe many others with sanctuary, opportunity, and most important of all, community. Maybe that sounds cliche and cheesy but hey, so are our cheesesteaks!