Friday, January 23, 2026

23 jan 26 jumat

 




jumatan

sampah

toko buah

showba

sore wrg thiena

muter

allahuakbar

oslo norway - arkeshus fortress


 

Thursday, January 22, 2026

22 jan 26 kamis

 




kampus sampah

tokobuku

meet fish

belanja suvenir

kantor polisi

allahuakbar

Wednesday, January 21, 2026

makan2 prof tina








 

Remittance

 



Remittance refers to money that is sent by someone (usually a worker or migrant) to another person, typically family members, in their home country.

Simple definition

Remittance = money sent from abroad to support people back home

Common example

  • A worker from Indonesia working in Taiwan sends part of their salary to their family in Indonesia → that money is called a remittance.

Key characteristics

  • Sent across borders (international remittance), though it can also be domestic

  • Usually sent regularly (monthly, weekly)

  • Used for daily needs: food, education, healthcare, housing

Why remittances are important

  • Support household income and reduce poverty

  • Contribute to national economies (foreign exchange)

  • Help pay for education and health services

  • Often more stable than foreign aid

Common channels

  • Banks

  • Money transfer services (Western Union, MoneyGram)

  • Digital platforms (mobile banking, fintech apps)

In academic or economic context

Remittance is often discussed in:

  • Migration studies

  • Development economics

  • Globalization and labor mobility

makan2 prof tina











 

21 jan 26 selasa

 



jemput nabila

resto makan2 prof tina

antar nabila

pul

kampus sampah

prof tina ttd

nabila mail room dorm eror

dorm office eror

oia eror

main office eror

allahuakbar

20 jan 26 senen

 




kampus print

dokter mata eror

muter

dokter mata eror

ce ita

allahuakbar

Tuesday, January 20, 2026

The Waiting

 


The Waiting

Silence stretched longer than it should have been,
one unread message echoing too loud.
My heart learned a new rhythm—
deg-deg, counting imagined mistakes.

Thoughts ran wild, barefoot and reckless,
jumping to conclusions I never meant to build.
Guilt knocked softly, then harder,
whispering: You did something wrong.

Minutes felt heavier than hours,
each second asking the same cruel question.
Why no reply? Why this quiet?
Why does waiting feel like confession?

Then—
a vibration.
A name.
A reply.

Just now. Barusan.
Relief poured in without warning,
like air rushing back into lungs
that forgot how to breathe.

I laughed at my own panic,
swore at my own heart.
How fragile it is,
how dramatic, how human.

The storm dissolved into calm,
the mind returned from everywhere.
Nothing was broken after all—
only a lesson in waiting,
and how deeply I care.