A flag ceremony from isolated village in Indonesia

The dancing prairie, the whispering sound of lake, and the line of fogged hills became the silent witnesses of our very first flag ceremony that morning. Indonesia Raya, our national anthem, sang loudly into the air. Lani, a big girl who was once labelled as a bad girl, stood up with full of smile in front of her friends as our conductor. Diki, a shy skinny little boy who is very smart in mathematics, stood up bravely as our head of ceremony. Wina, Wisnu and Ilham, they shared same destiny as abandoned children, were gently pulling the rope to raise the red-white flag. It was quiet, modest and solemn. Unstoppable sobbing exploded when “Hiduplah Indonesia Raya” (long live Indonesia) words sang as the end of Indonesia Raya and the flag finally reached the peak of our bamboo flag pole, waved boldly. The rains slowly poured and blend with our tears, showing that God was also touched with this solemn moment.

“TEGAP GERAK!” shouted Diki loudly as a closing sign of our flag ceremony.

The week before, I had just known that these children do not know how to sing our national anthem and never had a flag ceremony which is a compulsory ceremony every Monday in Indonesia. “Teaching them how to read is already difficult, we are pessimist to train them about flag ceremony.” said their teacher bitterly.

For a week, without a single complaint, the children’s small feet and skinny bodies never stopped practice the march. They wanted to prove to the teacher, to everyone who doubted, and to themselves that with the spirit and hard work they could be successful. And, they made it...

Bursting with tears, I hugged Diki tightly, “So proud of you...” followed by Wina who hugged me from the back, “Thank you for being here, teacher.” she whispered.

My memory flashed back to 2 weeks before. A beautiful scenery of lake came from behind the hill as our reward after 12 hrs journey. Other volunteers and I stopped in front of a small wooden building near the lake.

That 6x7 meter building with the leak thatched roof, weak rattan wall, and muddy floor was the birthplace of first generation of literacy in this isolated village. That building which also a cowshed is a school for 27 children in Tompobulu village. That building which had been collapsed twice will be the silent witness of children who never stop pursuing their dream to become "the light" for their village and Indonesia.

We stepped into that building with the cheers and claps from children.

Let’s build a dream for them.