In a land nurtured by hard work and prayer, I trace the footsteps of my ancestors in every breath of the wind. The sky stretches vast, the roads lead far, and ancient trees stand as witnesses to time. In its bustling markets, human voices blend with the rich aroma of spices and harvest, like an old song that never stops being sung. Here, Batak, Malay, Javanese, Chinese, and many others have built their lives side by side, weaving a tapestry of cultures as rich as the earth beneath our feet. From tobacco fields to forests that have shaped generations of wanderers, this land is more than a cradle of life. It is the keeper of meaning. I stand here as a child of a great land, shaped by the sweat and dreams of those who came before me. North Sumatra is not just a place on a map. It is the pulse that flows through my veins. My time here on earth may not be that long but I have now understood that I do not belong only to the present, but to a story still being written. one that carries the voices of many, bound together by the spirit of this land.