Tracing back my roots.

I have been to Europe, America, Australia and many other countries in my life, but not one of those trips have affected me so much in a way I could not describe. Who would have thought huh? Its Indonesia! Many of you people would'nt even know of this place. You can't find it on a map, and when you google it, the result turns out to be in Japan. Moro Island. The place where my family really started. Yup, not Singapore, its Indonesia. Just for you guys to know, I'm truly Singaporean but after this trip, I hoped my family were still there. I was curious and tagged along with my dad to pray to our ancestors. Having got there, I felt a certain pain in my chest. The place was just totally not developed. No fancy houses, no roads, no cars, hardly any road lights and no tall buildings at all. The only thing that was tall were the trees. We took a motorcycle to the graveyards and the guy driving me was my age. MY AGE AND DRIVING A MOTORCYCLE LIKE A BOSS. After we prayed, we just hang out at the boardwalks outside of my grandma's best friend house, which was facing the sea. It was so beautiful. I felt free for once. A feeling that I had never felt in Singapore. Life there had no pressure. That was when I really start to envy the kids there, that was their life. And then the opposite side of it. Those kids had absolutely no future, they will never experience the life outside of that small kampong. The feeling I had ever since I came home was undescribable. To the point where I don't know how to continue blogging this. Long story short, this trip changed my whole opinion on life.