Thanks, Jojo!

Hey!

I'm gonna make this quick.

I haven't had any 'fangirling moments' in years and surprisingly this morning, I did.
You may or may not know that I'm a crazy Twitter user. Although most of my friends have quit this site, I didn't and that pretty much proves how loyal I am. *smirks*

So.

I'm a huge HUGE fan of Victoria's Secrets and one of my most favorite angels is Josephine Skriver. She's a cute and charming Danish model and became an angel in February 2016. I've been expressing how much I love and adore her, especially her relationship with Alexander DeLeon. I just love those two love birds.

Anyway.

I was on Twitter as always and I saw Jojo's tweet about going across the globe. One girl replied assuming she was heading to India, which she replied 'Close by'. Before that, I saw her recent tweets using a bunch of tropical emojis and that's when I became 'sotoy' af. I instantly replied saying, 'Maldives????' I tweeted that early in the morning and after that I closed my Twitter app, knowing she wouldn't read it.

BOY I THOUGHT WRONG.

Just when I reached my office, I headed to my desk and did what I have to do. Then, I became pretty bored so I opened my Twitter app again to see if there's any news or gossip happening right now. I was pretty shocked to see that I had 3 new notifications and that's when I became nervous, thinking 'what if Jojo replied?!'

She did lmao.

Here's the whole receipt. (oh my god I'm literally smiling all day)

(My name was on her Twitter page holy shoot)

(You know. Casually having a Twitter convo with Jojo. No big deal)

'Sense of Humanism'

whatever you say.

It's Me!

The Passport Situation

There’s this story that still lingers in my head for almost five years and I still remember every second of it. The story of two people: a father and his daughter. Of course it’s about my dad and I.

It all happened on September 2010.

I was on a trip to Israel with my dad and many other people from our group. It was probably the longest father-daughter quality time I’ve ever had with my dad because mostly we do it with my sister.

We were queuing at the border of Egypt and Israel. The system worked pretty strange to me. We got down from the bus, carried our own luggage all the way from the parking lot to the Israel’s Immigration Office to take care of our passports and stuff.

Long story short, it was finally my turn to get my passport checked by the officer. My dad was currently having his passport checked on the counter next to mine. The guy opened my passport and took a little glance at my face, making sure if I was the owner of my own passport. (Obviously)

“Are you here alone?” He finally spoke up.

“No, I’m here with my dad.” I answered truthfully.

“Where is he?” He tried to look behind my shoulder to find the man but of course he didn’t see him because my dad was standing next to me.

The same thing probably happened to my dad. The woman behind the counter asked him the same question and his answer was that he wasn’t alone.

Sadly, what he said was “I’m here with a group.” Completely leaving the ‘Daughter’ word.

Now back to the guy behind the counter in front of me. “I don’t see your father. Where is he?” Sighing, I pointed to my dad’s counter. “There.”

With a different language, he called the woman who was checking my dad’s passport. They started saying things I couldn’t understand, but from what I saw, they were talking about my father and I. The guy kept pointing at my passport, specifically my photo. My no-expression-passport-photo.

Dad came to my side with a face full of concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, but I just shrugged.

What made me confused was that they looked like they were comparing our passports and laughed –more like snickered. I was annoyed. Scratch that. Pissed. That was offensive! You should never have had done such thing.

“What’s your full name?” he suddenly asked after what seemed like ages.

“Linkan Rinynda Tesalonika Letlora.” I answered instantly, not missing any beat. I have to admit, I was hella proud of myself.

“Why is there no ‘Letlora’ on your passport?”

Oops.

“Some birth certificate problem when I was a baby. They forgot to put Letlora as my last name. So…” I drifted, not knowing what to answer.

He just nodded and kept staring at me with a raised eyebrow. Why wasn’t this guy convinced? I raised an eyebrow back at him. In your face, grandpa, I thought.

What’s worse was the guy asked me the most unbelievable question.

“Are you sure he is your father?”

Shocked with the question, I glared at him, and answered. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“What’s his full name?”

Are you kidding me right now?

“Alexius Letlora. No middle name” I mumbled.

He glanced down at my dad’s passport and the woman next to him was staring coldly at my face. What was your problem, woman?

“When and where was he born?” He continued, without looking away from the passport in his *shudders* hairy hand.

“Surabaya, Indonesia, April 7^th 1964.”

“Alright that’s all. Both of you may go.”

I looked up to my dad and found him smiling down at me and I couldn’t do anything else other than to smile back at him. I was glad I got through that stupid situation with him. Because if I wasn’t I would have mocked the daylights out of that guy.

Because of our little situation, the line got full and they had to open two counters on my left. I know right?

What I’m trying to say from this story is that I’m glad I know my father very well and I’m lucky to have a special bond with him. (You too mom.) But I have to say that I’m more of a daddy’s girl. I’m really close with my dad.

I’m also glad that God has blessed me with an amazing father like him. He is definitely a great father and has the best father figure. He’s always with me through the ups and downs. He’s always there for me and he’s got my back.

Although sometimes (I’m sorry, dad) I can be quite mad at him because of his rules, I know he does everything for our best and that what makes my ‘anger’ vanished.

I’m grateful to have my dad and to know that other people see me as a reverend’s daughter. Honestly, just because I’m a reverend’s daughter I can’t do things normal teenagers do. I can, but I set my own limits and boundaries on what can I do and what can’t I do.

My dad has his own teenaged life too in his young age. He wasn’t ashamed to tell me about all the pranks he pulled to his college friends. He was the master of pranks back then in his university and that confused me. How did he end up being a reverend?

He even told me that one of his teachers told him that he would never be a reverend. Well voila! Look at him now.

All in all, I want to say Happy Birthday, dad.

You’re my dad, my best friend, and my hero. Because let’s face it, not all heroes wear capes.

Thanks for everything you taught and your efforts to be a great dad. I appreciate everything you do and I’m sorry if I ever let you down. I promise I’ll try to be better.

Also thank you for not giving up on me when I was at my lowest point of life. I wouldn’t be able to face the world if it wasn’t for you and because of you.

I hope our bond gets stronger and stronger each day and I’m wishing you all the best of luck in your job. Never stop spreading the story of God and never give up because as what you always tell me, I got your back. We got your back, dad.

I love you.

Sincerely, your eldest daughter,

Linkan Rinynda Tesalonika………..Letlora :p

Happy 23rd Wedding Anniversary Mom and Dad

Sunday, February 16 2014

Dear mom and dad,

It's been 23 years since "I do" was said from the both of you in GPIB Bukit Zaitun, Makassar. Remembering your stories back then on your wedding day, I remember how skinny dad was! And how beautiful and young mom looked back then. (Don't worry mom, you're still looking beautiful... but no longer young. Hehe.) 

For 23 years, you stick together as a happy wedded couple. You've been going through the ups and downs together. You never gave up on each other -unlike other couples out there, who gave up easily after God gave a one tiny simple test for them. I look up to the both of you. A lot.

Honestly, your relationship inspires me.

I want to have someone as amazing as dad to be my wedded husband in future. But dad always told me to wait for the right one to come and that is what I'm doing. 

I'm happy to have the both of you in my life. I could never ask for any better parents. I am trying (and always will) to be the best child for the both of you. I'm sorry for all the wrong and unthinkable things I did, whether on purpose or not, that broke your hearts.

I will forever be thankful for the both of you in my life.

There's one thing I want the both of you to always remember...

"A wedding lasts for a day, but a marriage is forever."

God bless the both of you. I love you.

-Linkan Letlora

Childhood Memories

Well hello there!

I know it's been quite a while since I posted my last article but *sigh* here I am now! It's 1am here in Indonesia and I honestly don't know what to do. Yes, I have a class tomorrow morning so... screw you insomnia.

As usual, I'm going to share a short story about my life. But before I start, I just want to warn you that this article is pretty long (I know I said 'a short story' but I can't guarantee you all to expect a legit (lol did i just say legit.) short story cause I type a little too much. What can I say? I love typing. Hush.)

With an empty Starbucks cup by my side, let us begin the story.

Hahahahaha sorry I was being a typical white girl up there but oh well. But yeah, you read the caption, let's begin the story. For real.

Once upon a time in 1996 . .

Nah, that sounded so... Fairytale-ish. Too mainstream. Too unoriginal. Blah. Let's start it the right way.

I was born on Sunday, May 12 1996 at 5:55a.m. Even on the day I was born, there was a little story in it. My mom was about to give birth (to me, duh.) and my dad was also there. Since it was Sunday and my dad was (and still is) a reverend, he had a job for the morning service in our church at 7a.m. But of course, being an amazing husband and soon-to-be-dad he was, he didn't want to miss this incredible event. 

I'm going to be honest with you. It took five years for my parents to have a baby. They got married in 1991 and I was born in 1996. FIVE freakin YEARS. The struggles were real back then. 

It was nearly six as he became to be very anxious because he was stuck between to important events. His wife giving birth and his morning service job. I'm not gonna lie, my dad LOVES his job as much as he loves my mom so it's like... he has two wives... you know, my mom and his job... and... yeah that's how I see it though... BUT ANWYAY.

He didn't want to come late for this morning service in our church so he told the doctors and I quote, 

"If my wife didn't give birth by six, I really had to go."

Sad thing is, I don't know how my dad told the doctors about it. Like, did he tell them right in front of my mom's room or even in the room while listening to the nurse to keep pushing and stuff... No seriously, I don't know. After my dad quoted that line while telling me this story, he just jumped into the outline of the story.

"And guess what? It was five to six when you were born." and by that he finished. Finished. Done. The end. 

ahaha not really. Using these long spaces is so fun! I think I'm addicted to it. Well by the way, I didn't know how my mom got so motivated to give birth to me before six. She probably heard my dad say it or maybe one of the doctors told my mom, i don't know. But voila! I was born 5 minutes before 6 and my dad walked up to my mom and saw me for the first time in my mom's embrace.

It was one of the most beautiful moments my dad had ever experienced. My dad bent down to my face and whispered the most powerful prayer; The Lord's Prayer in my ear. His reason was simple, because my dad wanted me to hear the prayer before I got to hear the whole world around me. He also did that to my sister and brother. I got shivers when he told me this.

When I was 3, we moved to a small rented house in Tomang, West Jakarta. Before that, we lived in a manse nearby our church, but dad was transferred to another church, so my parents rented a small house. Living there was pretty awesome. I had new friends for the first time, which happened in my neighborhood and I was like 'went out of my shell' because I was a total shy girl back then.

I also had my very first day in school. Again, dad had a little story about this. I went to school with him and according to my dad, I held his hand so tight, too tight for a 3-year-old little girl. I assumed I was really scared to face the real world without my parents or everyone I knew around me. First day of school terrified 97% kids around the world... I guess. When we arrived, I held my dad's hand even tighter. I was scared of these strangers around me. I didn't recognize their faces, I didn't know them at all.

Dad understood immediately that I was terrified. So he crouched down to my level and hugged me before he said, "Don't be afraid, I'm right here."

And by that, I slowly let go of my dad's hand and let the teacher grabbed it slowly as she led me to my class. I hesitated at first so I kept looking at my dad behind me with a worried look. My dad gave me a nice but stern look and nodded his head slowly, as if to say "I'm still here." I believed him immediately and I got the courage to walk into class and began my very first lesson on my first day at school.

It's getting pretty late here. I'm gonna continue this story sooner or later. Promise. Don't believe me? I'LL MAKE YOU BELIEVE. ahahaha. no seriously i will. 

Pinky promise. Believe me now? :)

Rumah Bapaku Orphanage

Hello! It's been a while since I posted my last entry and now that I'm in a crazy mood to write a blog, so here you go! Haha

In this entry, I want to share what I've learned from my little visit to an orphanage called 'Rumah Bapaku' in Bali. It was an honor to do a little charity there. My friends and I had so much fun playing with the kids, they were all so happy, eager, and excited to see us, which makes me even happier to meet them. There were around 60 students (including me) from Tunas Indonesia High School that were divided into groups of five until eight. 

Each group had to pick three kids from the orphanage so that we could interact and play with them. I was looking for three kids but they were all already got groups. By the help from our group's mentor, Miss Linda, we finally found three little girls named Desy, Joly, and Sari. They were all still in elementary school (around ten to eleven years old.) I had an incredible time with them. They were very sweet, funny, and inspiring.

It was dinner time and when I finished my food, Sari took a hold of my hand and showed me a beautiful drawing of a girl, it was anime and she did pretty amazing. I thanked her and she just smiled sweetly yet innocently. Then came Joly with a piece of paper in her hand and she gave it to me shyly. It was a painting of a room, with pink walls and it was so pretty. The owner of the orphanage, Natasha, called all of us to the living room to watch a short film of how did she decide to build the orphanage. I watched closely as I kept recording the whole movie on my mind. 

Apparently, it all started from Natasha's father who cared so much about her and used to take her out from a village to another so that they could interact with other people and spread the words of God for them. Natasha grew up in a religious family because her father was a reverend. As a child, she told her father that one day, she wanted to make a big house so that other children that didn't have any place to stay could stay in her big house. She grew up into a very successful lady but despite all the wealthy and success she's got, that didn't make her break her promise to her father, which had passed away. 

She even came back from where she worked in Los Angeles and made an orphanage in 2009 and had thirty-six children lived (and still are living) in there. Her husband, Bram, was a very generous man and he helps her through everything. These husband and wife seriously inspire me. 

Until now, there are still thirty-six children in the orphanage and they live happily there. I made friends with Desy, Joly, and Sari. When it was time to play, i took them outside to give them something. Bit before that, I told them that i had a story and they were actually listening to me.

The story was basically about my life. I told them I was a failure because of a stupid mistake I had and I thought my life would be ended *snap* just like that. But no. Instead, God had other greater plans for me. I got accepted in Tunas Indonesia Senior High School and my principal, Mr. Charles, offered me to join the accelleration study program, and guess what? I made it. Yesterday, I got an announcment saying that I passed my national final exams and graduated. How cool was that. Graduating at such young age (seventeen).

Back to the story. I told them to never stop dreaming, they nodded their heads understandingly. This was actually my first time ever to tell people about my life story, not that I'm complaining though. I asked each one of them, "What's your dream?" Desy and Joly wanted to be a reverend, Sari wanted to be a doctor. I told the kids that my dad is a reverend and they were actually quiet surprised. "No wonder why you can tell us such inspiring stories, just like other reverends out there." Joly said. I literally just laughed.

I also told them to never give up. This one is pretty mainstream I know. But they seemed hopeless back there, they wanted to have a perfect life. They even envied me for being in a family. "You will have one too, soon. Don't worry." I reassured them. I told them to be grateful and thankful for Ayah (the way they call Bram) and Bunda (how they call Natasha) for accepting them there in Rumah Bapaku Orphanage, i made them promise not to disappoint their guardians, because Bram and Natasha were the only parents they had.

They were getting really interested in our conversation because they kept scooting closer and closer to me like I was their older sister. It was a great feeling having three sweet girls around me, two of them were hugging my sides, and laid their heads on my shoulders as I kept telling them my stories. 

I made them promise not only to never give up, but also never be afraid to imagine extraordinary things. They were just kids and it wasn't illegal to imagine crazy things like... I don't know... Have a private yacht? Buy an insland? Go to the tallest building on earth and watch every view around it? Have an enormous house? It was all their decisions in which to imagine.

I gave them bracelets as a promise to never break our promisses. They gladly accept them and hugged me saying a sweet thank you. I cried, I couldn't hold it anymore. Knowing that maybe I'm not going to see them again hurts. 

Maybe, just maybe, one day I would see them again in different situations... being popular, success, and wealthy. Who knows?