“My square,” the one I’ve been waiting for so eagerly! Hooray! The old center of Batavia with the gouvernor’s building. The previous Dutch colony of Indonesia.

I’m here! Finally! I can almost feel the scent and spirit of bygone days in the air. The large white building I just exited from the side, now paints an imposing picture from the front. Above its main entrance is a balcony, like those on royal buildings where leaders address the people directly. Today, the Indonesian flag flies atop what was once the most important building of the Dutch colony. How ironic! On the roof, there’s a small cylindrical tower, like a bell tower. I’ve been longing to see this square!

Opposite the governor’s building, on the other side of the square, colorful bicycles are lined up in front of the post office. The square is full of local schoolchildren in uniforms, grabbing bikes and pedaling around. Their loud laughter echoes across the square. Those without bikes either hop onto the luggage racks or simply run after them. What a lively place! I want to experience this more deeply and immerse myself in the atmosphere, so I look for a shady spot to sit. It’s sweltering hot but luckily I brought a bottle of drinking water.

I sit down and begin sketching the building’s outlines. Suddenly, a thin elderly Indonesian man walks past me and stops. He looks at what I’m drawing, nods, and moves on. Not long after, the children cycling around the square pass by and greet me with loud “hellou”s, laughing and waving. I smile: such kindness feels soul-lifting. In this vast, foreign city and completely different culture I feel at home. But more and more children start greeting me. They laugh heartily, playfully balancing the tension and courage it takes to greet a stranger in English. Truly, more and more of them are noticing me. And I’m just sitting and drawing. A few girls shyly approach and ask if they can take a photo with me. Their innocent request warms my heart and I gladly say yes. This is already my second photo session: on my very first day here.

Soon, I find myself surrounded by an entire class of 9–11-year-olds. They look at me kindly, giggling and whispering in their own language. They just stare, as if they want to say something but don’t dare speak English. One of them finally asks, “How are you?” – then blushes and laughs. They’ve formed a circle around me. After a while, a young woman arrives with the group, reaching up to my chest in height. Her head is covered with a scarf, and she wears a hat and a floor-length dress. Her kind face radiates calm. She introduces herself in fluent English- she’s their teacher and would like to take a group photo with me and her class. Of course! They’re on a school trip to the capital. Seeing how much I enjoy the children’s attention and the experience, she asks if she can record a video with me. She wants me to say the school’s name aloud, and then we’ll all shout together: “is the best.” That is, “SMPIT Geneaci Robeni Bangulu is the best.” I have to repeat the unusual school name a few times to get it right. Finally, I feel confident and we record the video. 1…2…3… and the children finish my sentence with loud cheers. The teacher then comes up to me and says, “My students are saying, you are so beautiful!” I haven’t stopped smiling but this sweet compliment makes me smile even more. I thank them and as a gesture of local gratitude, I place my hands together in front of my heart and bow my head. It’s a sublime moment, and I feel deeply moved.

After the children leave, I’m alone again and continue my sketch. I realize my mindset has changed – I feel like I’ve become part of something here. They were curious, paid attention to me, and welcomed me. I’ve been working on my drawing for an hour now, and I’m thoroughly enjoying the process. In the bustle of Jakarta, I sit in an old town square, and all the time in the world is mine to draw. I don’t need to worry about anything else. No urgent tasks, obligations, or expectations. Just the reality I create for myself. Everything depends solely on me. I observe every tiny detail of the building before me more closely. Wow, I hadn’t noticed that little window before. And there’s a door here too. I completely missed the cannons earlier. So many small details I only notice with deeper observation – when I truly take the time and am present in the moment.

Suddenly, a family walks past: father, mother, two small children, and a grandmother. One of the kids stops in front of me and starts playfully teasing. I wave at him. The parents are a few steps ahead but turn back. That’s when I notice the father is holding a baby. They come closer, and we smile warmly at each other. I show them my sketch and say in English how adorable the children are. They appreciate the compliment – I can see it on their faces. They whisper something among themselves, then look at me and pull out a phone. I already know what they want and nod in agreement. Another photo. This is starting to feel a bit surreal. The baby smiles sweetly in the father’s arms while the mother enthusiastically takes pictures of us. After they leave, I realize I should’ve captured that lovely moment with my own phone too.