I was a little one once

I spent this morning digging out some of my earliest memories. It was for a feature I wanted to make for today's Weird Web October where the theme was "Memory". Might not sound too weird of a feature, but they're memories from the 70's, and they took place in Jakarta, Indonesia, where I was born. Things were... different back then, let's just put it that way.

The memories were surprisingly came back to me quite easily. I'm pretty sure that the memory from the day my Grandma died was my first memory. I was 3 years old. The rest happened before we moved to our final home in 1979, when I was 6 and a first-grader. I actually got all the memories—or rather, whatever I could remember from the period—put together by lunchtime.

I realize that the memories might not put my parents in good light, but keep in mind, I belong to the GenX: the generation famous for practically raising themselves. Both my parents had a full time job. They did the best they could with the cards they were dealt with. We had an aunt and uncle who were supposed to keep an eye on my brothers and I while our parents were at work, but they had their own lives. We did fine on our own. We took care of each other. We stayed out of trouble (most of the times). When we got into trouble, it was because we were kids, and kids are famously dumb.

I don't like talking about our final home because that's where things started to fall apart with my parents. I'd rather leave out memories from that part of my life and keep things happy, light, and just a little bit weird. So, without further ado, I present Somehow I Survived, a collection of memories of living dangerously as a little one in the 70's, in Jakarta, Indonesia (I didn't move to Canada until I was in my early 30s). Enjoy!