Bringing a Piece of Indonesia to ZJU

When I first stepped foot at Zhejiang University’s International School of Medicine (ZJU-ISM) in 2023, I knew I was entering something new — not just for myself, but for the university as well. As part of the very first MBBS (Bachelor of Medicine & Bachelor of Surgery) batch studying at the new Yiwu campus, everything was uncharted territory. What made it even more special? Out of the entire batch, only three of us were from Indonesia.

In a sea of students from all over the world, our home country wasn’t widely recognized. Whenever someone asked where I was from, I’d proudly say, “Indonesia,” only to be met with blank stares. But the moment I mentioned “Bali,” their faces would instantly light up. “Oh! Bali!” they’d say, almost as if it were its own country. It was funny at first, but over time, it became a reminder of how little people knew about Indonesia as a whole. That only made us more determined to share our culture.

So, we did.

However, we faced challenges along the way. There was a sense of disconnect, especially because we lacked guidance from seniors—after all, we were the seniors. We had no one to help us navigate the university’s systems, nor any chance to connect with the Indonesian community at the main campus. Sometimes, it felt like we were navigating this journey alone, struggling to find our way.

But despite these challenges, we found ways to make it work. Although we didn’t have many special occasions to celebrate—most of our national holidays fell during semester breaks—we still kept the spirit alive. On random days, we wore batik, proudly walking into lectures dressed in our traditional patterned shirts and dresses. People would ask, “What’s the occasion?” and we’d just smile and say, “Nothing.” Because to us, embracing our culture didn’t need a reason — it was simply part of who we are.

Then came the snacks. Every trip home meant returning with suitcases packed full of Indomie, Kopiko, and an assortment of krupuk — a tradition that became second nature. We’d gather friends from different countries, eager to share a taste of home. The crisp snap of kerupuk udang, the rich coffee kick of Kopiko, the unmistakable aroma of Indomie swirling in hot water — each bite was more than just food; it was a piece of Indonesia, a way to bring home a little closer.

Along with the flavors came the language. We’d teach our friends how to say enak (yummy) as they tasted something new, laugh as they struggled to master the pronunciation of certain words, and cheer them on as they gave their best effort rolling their r’s. It wasn’t just about food or language; it was about creating connections, sharing our identity, and building a sense of belonging.

Beyond the food, clothing, and language, we aspired to build something more—something lasting. We wanted to create a community that would carry the torch for future generations of Indonesian students. As more Indonesians joined the program over the years, we made it our mission to ensure the traditions we started would continue. We welcomed newcomers the way we wished someone had welcomed us—helping them settle in, organizing gatherings, and making sure that, no matter how few we were, Indonesia would always have a strong presence at ZJU-ISM.

Today, with a growing community of Indonesian students, the culture we started has truly flourished. We’re no longer just three students trying to make our country known — we’ve become part of a vibrant community, proudly carrying our legacy forward.

And every time someone asks, “Wait, Bali is in Indonesia?” — we smile, knowing we have one more person to introduce to the beauty of our homeland.