I always believe that if you want to know the mood of the nation, simply take a look at the films and the songs that we Indonesians have been tuning in the most this past year.
It appears that, as reflected by the most popular Indonesian films this year, many Indonesians shared the same struggle: to their (and also, my) surprise, fulfilling even the most basic life necessities has felt more arduous than ever — if not almost ridiculously impossible. This year, we couldn’t help but feel drawn to stories revolving around financial woes (Agak Laen, Home Sweet Loan), familial chaos (Ipar Adalah Maut, Bila Esok Ibu Tiada), and religious doubts (Siksa Kubur, Tuhan Izinkan Aku Berdosa). If there’s one lesson that can be drawn from those films, it’s that what’s supposed to be reliable and ever-present to us might not always be the case, after all. And, as it turns out, life’s scenarios that we used to easily dismiss as entirely unrealistic are now pretty much plausible.
Although I was not necessarily a fan of those aforementioned films, I couldn’t help but acknowledge that, to a certain degree, those films reflected my internal struggles this past year as well. 2024 was the year when I discovered that not a day went by without me worrying or being concerned about something. For the first time in my life, I’ve gotten worried over things like possible inflation spikes and value-added taxes. I felt the need to constantly check the receipt even after the most trivial shopping spree, and I felt the need to turn off, quite literally, all of my electric appliances at home whenever I wanted to head out – because I somehow got obsessed with minimising my utility expenses. I got worried whenever my parents had to drive in the thick of rain, and my worries got easily overblown whenever they were (mildly) under the weather. For the first time, it was me who felt the urgent need to give my parents cautions and advice – instead of the other way around.
And, not trying to make this reflection seem even more depressing, this was the year when I discovered that the trials and tribulations of the past — the tests that I thought I had passed and very much outgrown — could repeat themselves at any given moment.
Was this restlessness a form of traumatic response after the life-altering pandemic? I wouldn’t put it that dramatically, though. Yes, I always feel irritated whenever someone describes the pandemic years as akin to a pajama party because my life throughout those years was better described as a psychological thriller. That being said, I believe what happened to my psyche this year was actually due to information overload. The pandemic gave me a lot of lessons. In fact, the pandemic gave me *too many* lessons. As a result, now every decision made has felt like a heated panel discussion in my head. My habits of overthinking and worrying reached new heights this year, and it was an exhausting way of living.
And then, there was the music that the Indonesians have particularly loved this past year. Two of the biggest Indonesian songs of 2024, Bernadya’s “Satu Bulan” and Sal Priadi’s “Gala Bunga Matahari”, shared one eerily similar theme — both songs were about missing a certain someone (or something) that was no longer here. I couldn’t help but wonder, though, whether this nation has been quietly in mourning all along. If that’s the case, perhaps what we’ve been mourning was the simpler, more carefree life that we had to say goodbye to as we collectively entered this strange, new world. The world where times have moved so fast that we have to be emotionally, mentally, and physically prepared for all kinds of disaster, including the ones beyond our wildest imagination. The world where we probably have to say ‘goodbye’ more often than ‘hello’ — perhaps in a literal sense as well. (In August, the Religious Courts Agency of the Supreme Court recorded that there had been approximately 463 thousand divorce cases in Indonesia since the beginning of 2024.)
Did all of this end up making me feel melancholic or, as Indonesians would call it, ‘galau’? Nope. To my surprise, it wasn’t melancholy that I experienced — it was grumpiness. 2024 was the year in which I, rather reluctantly, had to learn emotional regulation because, lately, something as trivial as a lukewarm cup of coffee could easily put me on the edge. I also felt the need to take a very deep breath whenever a stranger next to me on a train car would take a slightly loud phone call, and let out a very long exhale whenever my ordered package arrived slightly later than expected.
In fairness, however, I was not the only one whose patience has been tested this year. Major events and happenings like the presidential election, the release of the controversial documentary feature Dirty Vote, the ‘Peringatan Darurat’ protest, the controversy of the football match between Indonesia and Bahrain, the mysterious Fufufafa account, and the eruption of Mount Lewotobi Laki-Laki ended up testing our cool-headedness as a nation. In many instances, we managed to rise to the occasion. We knew better and decided to be on our best behaviour when Pope Francis paid us a visit. The most feel-good, real-life story of the year, which is when two senior locals in Blora, Central Java, nearly risked their lives to stop a train from going through a broken railway, became a reminder for all of us about the importance of calm-mindedness and quick-thinking.
So, as 2024 is about to reach its end, instead of being either a worrywart or a grouch, I decided to give myself grace and a warm pat on the back — and I encourage all of us to do the same. Sometimes triumph comes in the form of doing your hardest not to let fear, anxiety, and frustration get the best of you. Sometimes triumph is not about taking a huge leap forward; instead, it can be about you being able to stand your ground and make yourself as unshakeable as possible. Yes, most of the time, it’s hard to tell the difference between giving ourselves grace and being merely self-indulgent. That being said, 2024 has also taught me that when you couldn’t help but feel like a cranky failure sometimes, being kind to yourself is as healthy as being kind to others.
And maybe, a few years from now, we can look back at this year and wholeheartedly realise that 2024 was a tough year for our hearts that ultimately fostered a tough spirit for our future.
Felix Martua is a journalist and a magazine editor.
Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of ‘Indonesia Expat’.