i love you

i love you

i love you more than you know
i miss you more than you know
i feel more for you as you know
i feel that you are my star in the night
i feel that your are my sun at the day
i feel that you are my love
i feel that you are my woman
i feel that you are my dream
i feel that you and me will be a dreamt couple
i love you, since i saw you


isnt it soooo sweet????

jogja gempa

tadi pagi aku bangun ada sms dari fira
ada gempa besar di jogja
aku bingung nggak tau harus apa
telpon dan sms teman
cuma dua yang balas
aku baca berita
katanya korban terus bertambah

aku telpon kakak
ibu dan mbak ina selamat
tapi belum ada berita lainnya

dan ada gempa lain di hatiku

overpopulation problem

So me.....oh god :p

The feeling when i am with you

First time I saw you, I knew that I’d be close to you

First time I was introduced to you, I was trembling

I didn’t what to do

First time I touched you, my heart beat faster

Between you and me, no barrier

The feeling was so tender

I knew that I’d need you,

I promise you that I will always be with you

Coz I feel safe when I am with you

Use condom for a safer sex

for someone: it is also how i feel to you

Silly Lil Girl

On a night before my 5^th birthday, I told my dad that I wanted to be 5 forever. I didn’t want to grow up. The reason was simply because I wanted to be classified as an under five child, a specific group. I cannot access free services at posyandu (integrated health care post) anymore. Worse, if I die, I wouldn’t be special and counted as an underfive mortality case. I told papa, that I wouldn’t be special anymore. I was so sad.

My papa did not laugh at me. He listened to me carefully. He asked me,”Don’t you want to go to your sister’s school? You can enter that school next year, when you are 6.” I didn’t say anything. Papa knew how much I wanted to go to a real school like my sister (I didn’t consider kindergarten as a real school). Papa looked at me, and he said again,”Lil one, there will lots more you can do when you grow up. You can go to many places by yourself. Sure you will always be special.”

On a day after, on my 5^th birthday, I got birthday gifts from papa. I got sweets and a pair of yellow sandals. Until now, that pair of sandals is my most favourite pair of sandals (I have 30 something pair of shoes and sandals at this moment). Somehow those sandals remind me about my dad’s love and to be positive about the future.

I love you

An angel rang me last night. He said that he had a nice screen saver on his computer. He said that it was written a good day is a day when one made a decision. I asked him what his decision for that day (he’s a bloody busy person, I thought he would say that he decided to have more free time for himself). I heard his breathing and said ‘I LOVE YOU’.

I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say. It was the sweetest love expression I’ve heard. I knew that he meant it, not merely a joke. In a sudden I knew that I would never be alone again.

My Friend, Sonya

I rang Trang, asked where she was. She was with Hienh. We arranged a dinner. I left home earlier. I went to a beauty salon (yip yip yip) and asked them to do anything. I was submissive. I just told them to make me pretty (challenging task for them). For the last 8 months I like going to beauty salon. Communication gaps between the hairstylists and me makes beauty salon is challenging. What I got different to what I expected. Once I had straight hair and made me looked like a fake Thai (most Thai girls have similar hair style). At another time my hair looked like Simba’s ROAR…..

I sat nicely. Quiet and looked at my hairstylist. She’s a friendly masculine woman. Deep down I was laughing at my self….Gosh, how I could trust a woman whose hair looked like my baby’s tail to redo my hairstyle. Oh well….she cut a bit, and they dried it. They made it curlier. Ta daa..I had bird nest-like hairdo. It was cute though.

Then I met Ruby. She said that it was good. We went to Pak Oy, the restaurant where we would have dinner. Trang and Hienh came after a while. Then the queen Sonyaa came. For almost 2 years, we have been persuading Sonya to be more confident. Physical appearance is not everything, but sometime it helps. Eventually on that night Sonya agreed to go to a beauty salon. She wanted to have the same hairdo with me. She was pretty (actually she’s pretty just not confident).

She asked me to accompany her for shopping. On Sunday we went to MBK. I chose MBK for more options. Sonya had lots of money. She bought 3 pairs of shoes, expensive ones. It was a bit difficult to find shoe for her. Her shoe size is 42 (mine is 37.5, so my nephew and I can wear her shoes together). We even found heels. She said that heels make her taller (she’s tall, taller than me). So I said…’ok you are tall and will be taller then. Be proud of it.’ She smiled. Yippee yip, she bought beautiful shoes. Bye bye horrible sandals.

Sonya also wanted to buy lipstick. I took her to Clinique corner. She said she’s allergic to scented cosmetic, so Clinique would be perfect for her. The seller was not friendly. It was the first time for Sonya went to beauty corner. She did not know how to choose. I told the seller to choose the natural ones. She chose natural colour for Thais. Pale and shiny. Sonya looked pale. I told her to find something red. I asked Sonya to show her gum and asked that seller to find something close to her gum’s colour. The seller said that it was not natural. The natural ones are the ones she had chosen. I ignored her and chose two lipsticks. Yes, Sonya liked them more. She looked wonderful. I was surprised that the seller did not know how to choose natural colour for her customers. She had fairer skin colour like other Thais. Sonya’s like mine. We are darker than her. How she expected us wearing that lipstick and claimed it was natural for us. So, to make the seller upset more, I said clearly to Sonya,”Next time you want to find lipstick. See your gum and choose the closer colour with it.” Somehow it was weird that the seller did not know how this simple rule.

Sonya did not buy any outfits. She was pretty in a knee length skirt and blouses. But she said no. She said this and that. I was too tired to persuade her. Too bad actually. She was amazing in those outfits. I could imagine she walks proudly in it and wears new heels. What can I say, it’s her life. Sonya is a nice person. I wish her all the best. Love you Sonya

My Mama

My mama is a dazzling woman. Every time she goes to crowds, ceremonies, meetings or what ever, everybody will look at her. Often people are amazed by her beauty and charm. She is not the most beautiful woman in the world I know, well Queen of Thailand must be one of the most beautiful women alive I bet. My mama has something inside. I don’t know what it is.

When I was a little girl I always wanted to be like mama. When I was a teenager, I was so proud of her. (Indeed until now I still want to be like her.) I was hoping that one day I would be like her. She’s charming, and I wish I would inherit it from her.

One day when I was 11. I just entered junior high school and had a picture for school. Mama starred at it and said that it looked familiar. She went to another room and searched for something. She came back to me and showed me a picture of her and her brother. She said that I looked like her. We were alike, but I wore eyeglasses and she did not. She smiled coquettishly and I did not smile. I was so happy on that night. God please let me inherit her beauty. Silly me.

Mama always tells us, my sister and i, her daughters, that neither of us possesses an extreme beauty. We are not physically beautiful, so we have to be witty. It is true. I cannot rely on my physical appearance to survive. I cannot be a model (and I don’t think I was born for that…..pose….smile….1..2..3…yip…great). I cannot make money on that way. My mama also said that some women can marry to rich guys because they are beautiful, but not us. She doesn’t want us to marry for money lady only takes jewellery from her husband). She wants us to be independent, not depends on others. Study hard, learn many things and support ourselves. Mama doesn’t ask anything in return. She only wants to see us happy.

Language and Identity

I attended a lecture on human security yesterday at Chula. Wayne Nelles and Ajarn Narumon presented. It was interesting.

Ajarn Narumon presented her findings working with the sea people at southern Thailand. The sea people called ‘chao lay’. Interestingly, they do not like the identity as ‘chao lay’ since it has negative image. Chao lays are dirty, primitive, and so on. They prefer new identity as ‘Thai Mai’ or the new Thai.

The ajarn also told us that there was an officer who reminded her not to use the word ‘chao lay’ nor ‘moken’ (moken is also about chao lay…I am not sure the difference between them, you can google it by yourself). The officer suggested her to use the word ‘ithai ma’ to avoid ethnic conflict.

The ajarn mentioned that in some extend calling ‘chao lay’ as ‘thai mai’ may avoid the conflict. It also leverages their pride. On the other hand, what about their identity? Their history, and other group identities’ issues, will be gone.

I was thinking about my own country. There was no a nation called Indonesia. Indonesia is a new invention, by a Dutch I supposed. What we had hundreds of kingdoms, spreading on the archipelagos.

We were united since we had common enemy (or I better say enemies?). Then we chose to use Bahasa as a common language among us. Bahasa derived from Melayu. It is a simple language. Practical. There is no past, present and future. No singular or multiple, to make singular noun to be multiple just repeat the word. Anak means child, anak-anak mean children. No bloody tones like in Thai, Mandarin or Vietnamese. The grammar is simple. It is only subject and predicate, well you can add object and adverb or adjective if you want to. We understand the meaning of words based on the context. This simple language constructs the identity of Indonesian.

My first language is Bahasa, and I identify myself as an Indonesian. Deep inside I have a big question mark about my identity. Ethnically I am a Javanese. My mama and papa are Javanese. Papa understood Javanese language, but not my mama. Mama was born and grew up in Jakarta. Her parents were nationalists. They spoke in Bahasa as a way to support the new nation (Indonesia was a baby on that time). Therefore they did not speak in Javanese.

I was born and grew up in Balikpapan, an oil city at East Kalimantan (Kalimantan is Indonesian part of Borneo). I barely heard people spoke in Javanese. We spoke in Bahasa, or yes sometime Banjar. Banjar is an ethnic at Kalimantan. I never identified myself as a Javanese. (how could I identify myself as a Javanese, even though I have a rank in front of my name, while I barely know the culture?)

When I was a teenager, my family moved out from Balikpapan. We lived in a small town in Java. It was only mama and I at home. My sister went to another city for study. Papa stayed at Jakarta, made some money to support us. He went back home once in a month. Again, mama and I communicated in Bahasa.

During that time, I had Javanese class on high school, and it was horrible. I did not know any words. The worst thing was the hierarchy. I had to know whom I talked to. Different words to explain the same thing. I asked my mama,” How could I know one’s social position? Do I have to ask first? Excuse me are you from higher or lower class than me?” Mama looked at me blankly and said that she didn’t understand it either. I remembered my Javanese teacher asked me (cynically I supposed), “Ervita, are you a Javanese or not?” This dumb headed girl said NO. Actually until now, after lived in Java for more than 10 years, and able to speak in Javanese (I read too, impressive no :D ) I still don’t identify myself as a Javanese. I am an Indonesian.

Sometimes my parents were invited for some ceremonies at our communities. Since papa was rarely at home, I often accompanied mama to attend. I immitated all she did. Shake everybody’s hands, smiled elegantly and sat nicely. Mama told me, “Remember your grand parents and great grand parents. They were and still are respected here. Behave appropriately.” It means BORING. During ceremonies usually there were speeches (I didn’t understand why there were so many speeches), unfortunately in Javanese. So you can imagine, both my mama and I smiled politely, but actually we did not know anything. Once I whispered, asked my mama, “Ma, what is he talking about?’ My mama whispered at me,”Lil one, I don’t know either.” I grinned and she blinked her eyes.

I moved to Jogja, city of culture and education in Indonesia. It means we have the court and thousands of university students :p I studied there, still communicated in Bahasa. On 1999 I joinned an organization, since that time I really learned Javanese. I needed Javanese at work, especially when I have to work with the community. I even ask Romo Himawan aka Mo Him (Romo is uncle, it is how Royal Javanese calls uncles) some rules in Javanese language (since it’s bloody hierarchical). I asked him, how if I talk to an elder person from lower class than me, like the maids for instance. I should respect the maids since they are older than me. But he said no, since I am a lady and they are maids. Ouch…see…this is one reason why I don’t identify myself as a Javanese. (My grandma, even though she’s a nationalist, was furious when I said I prefer Dayak than Javanese)

Ethnically I am Javanese. I was born and grew up in Borneo. I learned the Dayak Kenyah culture more than Javanese, even though I don’t speak the language. I love the culture, the people and everything about it. My home is the jungle. Why should I identify my self as a Javanese lady? But I question myself. I don’t live in Borneo anymore, for more than 10 years. I still have friends, but my family is not there anymore. Can I still claim that I am from Balikpapan? My ID card is from Jogja. I lived there for 8 years and have friends there. But I live alone there. I rented a house for the last 5 years until I went to Bangkok. Sure I don’t have a home anymore in Jogja. Can I say I am from Jogja? Mmmmmm I doubt about it. Well, my mama is in Jakarta, with my sister, brother in law and angelic nephew. Mama always asks me to come back home to her. Should I say that I am from Jakarta? I never lived there. The longest period I stayed in Jakarta was 6 weeks in a row. Where do I come from?

I believe there are many Indonesians like me. We speak in Bahasa and identify ourselves as Indonesian, not think about ethnic identity. Don’t ask me where I come from in Indonesia. It is always difficult for me to answer.

My personal experience as a person who question her own identity, leads me to think about the ‘chao lay’. I wonder how if the chao lays have new identity as thai mais. Will they (somehow in some extent) be confused with their identity?

I came from my mother’s womb

Waiting to be back to my eternal home

The tomb

Angel I miss you

I am so lonely without you

For the first time I realize

Distant between us