I have been in Indonesia since March the fifth, 2003. The last time I had Dutch ground under my feet was according to my passport – my diary – two years and two days ago. Did I somewhere cross a line without noticing it – without the need to show my passport with all the required stamps and signatures? In the past few years I collected twenty-five pages of stamps, signatures and corrections thereupon from various Indonesian state officials. Did I somehow become an émigré? In exile? Expatriated? I have, to be honest, no clue whatsoever. I try to live my life wherever.