Growing Up Around Smokers in Indonesia There are certain smells that instantly transport you back to childhood. Fresh rain. Old books. Fried noodles from a roadside stall. Cajuput oil. And then there is cigarette smoke. Not because I wanted to remember it. It was simply… everywhere. Growing up in Indonesia in the 1980s and 1990s, I don’t remember anyone asking whether smoking was allowed. There was always somebody smoking—a father, an uncle, the neighbour, the man waiting for the bus, a wedding guest, someone at the family gathering, or a stranger in a restaurant. Sometimes I think even the ashtrays had ashtrays. My own father smoked. Some of my friends…