My name is Arini.
If you have ever read about the island of Irian, that is where I was born. My parents worked there and I grew up surrounded by the local atmosphere. The dense tropical rainforest stretches far and wide, adorned with tall trees and various rare animals that live freely within it. Large winding rivers cut through the land, while mist-covered mountains like the Jayawijaya Mountains rise majestically with their cold, snow-capped peaks. Along the coast, white sandy beaches meet the clear blue sea, revealing colorful coral reefs. The natural ambiance of Irian Island feels pure, wild, and exudes an authentic charm that is hard to find elsewhere in the world.
If the letters were rearranged slightly, my name would actually spell out "Irian." My father intentionally included that message in my name. He didn't want to forget all the beauty there. Though I understand, the work my father did there was something that stripped away the beauty of Irian itself. Irian isn't the name it should be. It should be Papua. However, due to political matters, it became very complicated.
When I was 10 years old, we moved back to Canada. I never returned until I was 24 last month. I also never heard or saw any news about Papua. But I understand, it's all because of politics and injustice there. However, a dream made me remember a certain time. When Irian was shrouded in mystery, every step I took felt like I was walking to solve the questions in my head.
Last night, that dream returned. Someone was trying to catch me, and the figure who wanted to catch me was someone I had heard about from my friends' stories when I was growing up in Irian. I didn't believe it, but the dream forced me to reflect for a moment. Was that figure real? Did I really experience that dream within a dream? Everything felt so real!