Invofest 2019: my first hackathon, and the birth of WhyCode

Before I knew what a hackathon was

I was in grade 11 when Invofest happened, in the first semester of 2019. I had never built a website before. Whatever I knew, I'd stitched together from articles and YouTube, teaching myself as I went.

I'd never done a hackathon either. The whole idea made me nervous in the best way: that mix of deg-degan and pure excitement you only get from a real first time.

But I signed up anyway, because I'd wanted this for a while. From early on I had this ambition to enter programming competitions and win first place. That goal sat underneath everything. I was the one who went around asking friends to form a team, partly ambition, partly just curiosity about what these competitions even were.

Looking back, what surprises me isn't that I felt confident. I actually did. It's that the confidence never made me lazy. I kept teaching myself, kept pushing, kept trying to come up with ideas fast. That habit never left. Years later I'm still that person: comfortable learning anything from scratch, holding onto a growth mindset, able to lead a team. It all traces back to here.

How it started

The first stage was online: submit an idea. Ours was a web app to help people find a tailor (penjahit) near their home. We called it Nisik, after the word for mending torn clothes: fitting for an app about tailors. Honestly, our plan was just to get experience first; winning could come later. So when the idea actually passed, none of us saw it coming.

What I remember most is the joy of qualifying. And, I'll admit it, the joy of getting a school dispensation to skip class for it. There's a very specific pride in being allowed to miss school because you're going to a competition. Suddenly I was in a classroom with all the other ambitious competition kids, my own year and the seniors, gathered there for one reason: to prepare. I was so excited about Invofest.

WhyCode

I'd started by looking for classmates who wanted to compete. By the time Invofest came around, the three who actually showed up were Dhani, Hakim, and me. I'd invited each of them one by one. Dhani and I had teamed up once before, back in grade 10, for a competition we didn't qualify for. This time, with Hakim joining, we finally settled on a name: WhyCode.

There's no deep story behind it. We made it up because it sounded cool. We named the team at Dhani's place; his kontrakan was where we ended up preparing for competitions, over and over, for years afterward.

I had no idea then that this team would go on to IT Expo, Permata, and more. But the ambition to win was already there, and it kept me coming back until we finally did.

Getting to Tegal

We didn't take a train; we drove, and got dropped off right at the campus. The whole way there, all we talked about was the competition: the rules, where the room would be, how to prepare.

Underneath the chatter, I was anxious. Here's why. We'd finished building our project before the deadline, but instead of actually understanding our own code, we'd memorized it, line by line. (I know. Ngakak.) The event computers had no internet, which meant no git clone, no pulling anything from GitHub on the day. Whatever we wanted on screen, we'd have to reproduce by hand. So Hakim and I split the memorizing between us, each taking half. My biggest fear on that drive was forgetting which half was mine.

Building it

At the venue they sat us down at computers and gave us a full day, completely offline. No internet, no shortcuts: just whatever you could make by hand, the best you could do for that one day.

What we built was a plain HTML, CSS, and JavaScript web design. Mostly just the look of it. A few parts even broke live during the presentation. Between the time pressure, the nerves, and working as a real team for the first time, it was equal parts thrilling and terrifying. But we stayed confident the whole way through, somehow certain we were safe.

Top 10

We placed Top 10. I was happy, a little disappointed we didn't crack the top 3, but our competition was basically all seniors, and we lost to seniors. That's a loss I could live with.

What it really did was light a fire: we immediately wanted to do it again. We came home with certificates, a pile of experience, and, honestly, I've forgotten the rest. We'd driven in by car, but we went home on an executive-class train, reimbursed by the school. After everything, that ride back felt like its own small reward.

One detail I'll never forget, though: after judging, we stayed overnight in the girls' dormitory. I shared a room with a friend and a senior, and the place smelled exactly like a duck pen. Somehow that's one of the clearest memories I have of the entire trip.

Looking back

I'm not sure how to wrap this up neatly, so I'll just say the truest thing I can: this is the point where I met everyone.

All the talented people I know, the seniors I looked up to: I met them here. One of those seniors I still freelance with to this day. And it's the same story with so many others. The certificate faded, the Top 10 stopped mattering, but the people stayed.

That's what a first hackathon actually gives you.