full time angel

Vietnam Rose

2008-04-11T12:13:00.001+07:00

A very good friend of mine got married recently. Her husband gave her a romantic nickname, Rose. I bet the nickname is supposed to describe how my friend is. It s true, she’s a like a rose. She is pretty, smart, lovely and can be a total bitch. She’s sharp, she knows what she wants and she makes her dreams come true. What a rose with thorns.

But heck, my friend is a Vietnamese. I mean…come on buddy, give your bride any flowery nickname, any flowers at all, but rose. A Vietnam rose?

Fallen Apart

2008-01-21T11:32:00.000+07:00

Grenouille was terrified. What happens, he thought, if the scent, once I possess it…what happens if it runs out? It’s not the same as it is in your memory, where all scents are indestructible. The real thing gets used up in this world. It’s transient. And by the time it has been used up, the source I tool it from will no longer exist. And I will be as naked as before and will have to get along with surrogates, just like before. No, it will be even worse than before! For in the meantime I will have known it and possessed it, my own splendid scent, and I will not be able to forget it, because I never forget a scent. And for the rest of my life I will feed on it in my memory, just as I was feeding right now from the premonition of what I will possess…what do I need it for at all?

This was a most unpleasant thought fro Grenouille. It frightened him beyong measure to thin that once he possess the scent that he did not yet possess, he must inevitably lose it…….

From the Perfume, by Patrick Suskind.

My Mummy is The Strongest Person on Earth

2007-08-03T03:18:00.000+07:00

For few days I have been doing nothing but eating (disgusting porridge) and sleeping. I didn’t go to office and ask my staff with my most favourite questions, “When will it be?” or “What’re the objectives?” Lying down like this reminds me of my mum. Lord, how much I miss my mummy. My mummy always holds me tight every time I get ill. She looks after me well.

Ah my chatty mummy.

There are over a dozen of stitches on my mum’s head because of her surgery 3 decades ago. There is still a platinum pen inside her skull, which affects her vision nerves. On her chin, there are 3 stitches because of her naughtiness when she was little. On mummy’s tummy there are stitches too, she got them when she miscarried my unborn little brother. In addition, mummy’s blood contains blood from at least a dozen people whom she didn’t know. Those respectable people refused to reveal their identities. Even papa just knew that they were his staff without knowing who they were. Unfortunately blood transfusion during those days wasn’t like we have now. Paramedic only checked the blood type. It seems one of them got malaria, so my mummy often gets fever.

My mummy is not old yet but she has fought against the death several times. She has negotiated with angel of the death to postpone her death. My mummy is a strong woman. For almost of my 30 year life, only once I could recall my mum got ill. It was when I was at kindergarten, when mum had my unborn little brother. I recall during those days papa took my sister and I went to hospital visiting mummy every afternoon. There were fruits and cookies at mum’s room, cookies and fruits that no one wanted to touch at home.

For all my life, my mum never gets ill but “common cold”. No matter what happens, no matter how worse her fever is, no matter how dizzy she is, no matter how ill she is, mummy always stands up and prepares our needs. My mummy prepares my breakfast. Mummy prepares my lunch box. Mummy brushes my hair. Mummy does everything. When she really gets ill, all she needs is only a bit back massage. Meanwhile, when I am close to her, mummy always gives me light foot massage since my feet were petite until not so petite anymore now.

My mummy is the strongest person on Earth. Mummy doesn’t complain, she is just well…mmm a bit like other mummies, tells her kid to do this and that. She said, “It’s because I care about you.” Eeewww what a reason. My mummy is the strongest person on Earth. No matter what happens she will stand up to protect me.

The Best Coffeemaker that Ends Up in A Tea-lover’s Kitchen

2007-06-08T19:58:00.000+07:00

This morning on Disney Channel I watched a Pluto’s film. Pluto was playing with Mickey when Donald, Daisy and Minnie came. They asked Mickey to go with, Mickey joined them and left Pluto behind. Pluto was upset, he cried. In a sudden there was a cute bitch (literally meaning) came and flirted with him. Pluto got crazy with that girl. He followed her all way long to see her. No matter how difficult it was, Pluto even had to deal with a scary bulldog to see his love.

Eventually Pluto could be with that girl, he was happy. She kissed him and made Pluto got crazy even more. Pluto was daydreaming about living with her, tying the knot, having some cute puppies and getting old together. In a sudden he remembered Mickey. He imagined old Mickey asked him to play, but he never come. Pluto realized that he wanted to be with Mickey, not his girl. Pluto wanted to go home, but that girl got crazy with Pluto. She didn’t let him go and did every thing to keep him with her. Pluto was terrified with her. He kept running, and she kept catching after him. Fortunately that scary bulldog caught her and incidentally kissed her. That girl turned to love the scary bulldog and left Pluto away. She didn’t bother with Pluto anymore, and Pluto returned home happily. The End.

I couldn’t stop smiling when I watched that, even now I am still smiling remembering how terrified Pluto was with that cute female dog (well…it’s a bitch, just a bit weird when I say cute bitch). Sometimes cartoons portray real lives and help us understand others better.

In real life, the best coffeemaker ends up in a kitchen of a tea lover. It doesn’t mean that the tea lover doesn’t value that best coffeemaker, s/he’s just not into coffee, more into tea. It doesn’t mean that the best coffeemaker is worthless either, it just should go to a coffee lover’s kitchen. It’s much better than the tea lover pretends to love coffee more than tea, and is not happy with his life. It’s also better for the best coffeemaker to be in a kitchen of a coffee lover, instead of being useless in a kitchen of a tea lover and makes it unhappy.

For someone who would never read.

I Love Lucy

2007-06-06T20:50:00.000+07:00

Fear

2007-06-05T15:27:00.000+07:00

No laughing little rascal at the moment
No annoying endless questions
He's hospitalized

Setahun Lumpur Sidoarjo

2007-05-29T23:44:00.000+07:00

Kemarinnya ibuku komentar, “Gempa kok diulangtahuni. Ngabisin duit aja, mending duitnya untuk ngasih makan rakyat yang lapar.”

Aku setuju 1000% dengan ibuku. Gempa kok diulangtahuni.

Hari ini ulang tahun yang lain, setahun umur lumpur panas Sidoarjo. Ibuku pernah komentar, “Gimana sih pemerintah. Masa relokasi rakyat aja nggak bisa. Apa nggak kasihan sama rakyatnya yang kehilangan rumah. Kalau memang nggak bisa nanganin ya kasih uang ganti ruginya, lunas, kasih tanah baru. Transmigrasi lagi. Daripada uangnya dibuang untuk bola beton. Piye tho orang pada pinter2 tapi nggak bisa cak cek. Kalau tekanan lumpurnya lebih kuat dari pada di beton ya betonnya kelempar, kalau jatuhin orang kanya jadi peyek.” (ssshhh jangan komentar tentang dampak transmigrasi dulu kalau emakku lagi hot kaya gini, percuma)

Gempa Jogja	Lumpur Sidoarjo
Salahkan Tuhan (kasihan Tuhan euy)	Salahkan Lapindo Brantas dan yang punya which is MENTERI SOCIAL WELFARE kalo nggak salah aka BAKRI yang kaya raya itu
Dunia menangis walau nggak semenangis tsunami Aceh atau gempa Pakistan	Sidoarjo itu dimana yah? Masa sih lumpur bisa separah itu?
Bencana nasional	Bencana kemanusiaan
Pemerintah lumayan cepet lah	Helloooo….anybody home Mr. President?
Pengungsinya seksi, korban gempa, kasihan, rentan sama berbagai masalah	Pengungsinya buset dah…kok mereka jadi tukang demo sih? Mana ada rakyat baik yang jadi tukang demo kecuali demo masak
Ada banyak kegiatan kemanusiaan, banyak pekerja kemanusiaan yang gajinya bujubuneng gede banget deh. Tanya orang2 UN deh kalo nggak percaya	UNICEF cuma bisa masukin vaksin doang, kan kata pemerintahbukan bencana nasional. Kerja di sana sih equal sama relawan bener deh. Nggak ada seksi2nya
Waktu denger pertama kali aku kebanjiran pertanyaan...Evie, how’s your friends and relatives?	Waktu denger pertama kali justru dari Joe “Giant” Smith dan kayanya dia aja tuh yang tau. Aku malah balik tanya…Emang ada apaan? Ah paling bentar lagi beres
JK janji akan ada ganti rugi buat rumah yang rusak, padahal waktu itu keuangan negara nggak bakal cukup	SBY janji akan nangangin supaya korbannya dapat ganti rugi.
Persamaan: Sama-sama nggak ada ganti rugi, cuma si Lumpur lebih parah. Btw si Bakrie cakil tetep jadi MENTERI….hidup Indonesia Raya Merdeka Merdeka

Minggu malam aku jalan ke JCC sama Kakak lihat pameran kerajinan, cari ide untuk souvenir kawinan. Perempuan ini mau kawin bo…itu juga insya allah. Sempet lihat ada pameran real estate. Uih…ada yang namanya Rasuna Epicentrum, apartment yang cantik di depan Pasar Festival. Lay out-nya keren. Mahalnya juga nggak ketulungan. Begitu aku tunjukin brosurnya sama mama, she burst her anger, “JANGAN!!!! Puh, ini punya Bakrie. Bisa-bisanya dia bangun apartment mewah, tinggal di rumah keren, ketawa-ketiwi sementara ribuan orang terlunta-lunta dan dia nggak ngapa-ngapain. Coba dia bayar semua, pasti sudah miskin dia.”

Kesimpulan: Say No to Bakrie

Cinta Kampret ala Ibu Bijaksini dan Malaikat Berbentuk Kampret

2007-05-10T12:46:00.000+07:00

Ibuku selalu bilang, “Mama marahin kamu tuh karena mama sayang. Kalau mama nggak sayang, mama cuekin aja”. Kalau lagi becandaan aku selalu bilang, ”Itu kan alasan pembenar aja buat ngomel”.

Tapi pagi ini aku dihadapkan pada pemahaman bahwa ibuku benar. Mama marah karena dia sayang sama aku, tapi bagaimana reaksi si manja diomelin itu urusan yang lain. Aku bisa lihat kemarahan mama sebagai bentuk kasihnya, atau sebagai bentuk permusuhan.

Seorang sahabat merasa lelah mengulurkan kasihnya pada seseorang yang dengan tulus dia cintai. Dia cape dan bete melihat orang tersebut justru melihat kasihnya dengan cara yang berbeda. Aku kehabisan cara untuk mengulurkan kasihku buat dia, dan akhirnya jutek sendiri.

Seorang sahabat yang lain, bernama Early Dewi, yang kadang baik kadang juga sama kampretnya dengan aku, menginterogasiku dengan cara sadisnya seperti biasa. “Kamu peduli sama dia karena kamu mangkel sama dia dan ini bagian dari proses rationalisasimu dan denialmu, atau karena memang peduli?”

Berhubung aku tau bahwa kolegaku sesama kampret ini bermaksud baik dengan menghujam pertanyaan tidak berbudi ke kampret yang manis ini maka aku menjawab dengan manis. Aku bilang aku memang peduli dengan sahabatku itu, dan nggak tega lihat dia mengalami kesulitan. Kasarnya, kalau aku yang jatuh dan butuh nangis Bombay maka akan banyak malaikat berbentuk kampret yang dengan sadis menendang pantatku untuk bangkit. Boro-boro deh ngasih tissue, yang ada paling juga tamparan dan tendangan untuk bergerak.

Kemudian sahabatku yang kampret ini bilang, “Mungkin cinta dan kedekatan membuatnya insecure. Saat ini dia belum bisa melihat uluran tangan dan kasih kalian, dia memilih melihatnya dari sudut pandang yang berbeda”. Hal pertama yang terlintas di kepalaku, ealah bu…masih tetep yeee Fruedian, kita tinggal bikin dinamika psikologisnya aja tuh kan gampang apalagi pola pertahanan egonya kelihatan.

Sahabatku yang cerdas ini juga tanya dengan gaya sadisnya itu kenapa aku jadi bete dengan masalah ini. Iya ya…jangan jangan aku yang overreacted? Jangan jangan aku marah karena aku sayang dia dan dia tidak terima sayangku. Padahalkan ibu bijaksini yang juga lagi cape dan bete itu juga pernah bilang,”Kalau sayang ya sayang aja, nggak usah berharap apapun. Nggak usah berharap dia akan membalasnya.”

Kemudian aku juga teringat omongan seorang Avi Mahaningtyas. Ibu Avi ini juga masuk kategori malaikat dalam samaran bitch (walau dia keukeuh dia itu bitch dalam bentuk malaikat). “Just love, observe and be compassionate. Katakan kebenaran Tuhan walau dengan gaya bitchy yang memuakkan.”

Mungkin juga sekarang saatnya untuk mencintai seseorang yang kuanggap sahabat tanpa memintanya mencintaiku seperti aku mencintainya. Mungkin saatnya untuk menjauh agar dia bisa melihat lebih jelas tanpa merasa terancam. Mungkin sekarang saat aku duduk diam, to observe and be compassionate.

Buat malaikat dalam bentuk kampret dengan kadar kecemasan sangat tinggi dan jempolnya bucuk, glad that God sent you in my life.

Buat ibu-ibu arisan, mari kita lanjutkan arisan kita sambil menghisap nikotin dan menyeruput anggur merah memabukkan. Pemenang arisan akan dapat bale-bale antik untuk menikmati sex yang bagus.

Remote Controls and Power

2007-05-10T11:40:00.000+07:00

Living alone means I don't have to share my remote controls. I can do whatever I want. I am the master…oops mistress. My quiet sanctuary is wrecked by a boy in diaper who cannot even pronounce his name properly.

He has the spirit of Julius Caesar, vini vidi and vici. He comes, he sees and he wins. Who say that children are powerless than adults? Look what this little rascal has done.

1. Wall and floor are his favourite canvas, no matter how many times we tell him no. So we compromise by covering the wall and teach him how to clean up the floor.

2. Cartoons and news on TV for almost 18 hours/day. There is no way to change the channel, we need to persuade him to watch other shows and mostly it's useless. Only his granny can change the channel and watch a soap opera at 6 pm. She warns everyone including that little dude, that she would return to her own home to watch this soap opera if she cannot watch it. Duh…

3. What about AC remote control? Forget that it exists. Go hide it before he gets it.

4. He says that he loves my place. He often misses my place, not to see me but my bathroom's sliding door. He comes in and out million times, no matter it is vacant or not.

5. It's wasting time to tell him that he should not tickle my feet to wake me up when he's awake.

6. There is no point persuading him that his computer toy is as exciting as my laptop. He says that he wants to work like his Ade on big computer, not on that kiddo stuff. (Unfortunately my friend who met him and went out for ice cream agreed with this. "Why should he get kiddo stuff if mummy and aunty have real ones?")

7. There is no point to tell him that my camera is not a toy. He keeps toying with that camera. So I have to compromise and tell him how to use it.

8. Once he joined me having an ice cream with a friend, since then he only wants two kinds of ice cream. The one he has at his granny's home and the one he had when he was with my friend and me. He says other ice cream is not yummy.

9. What about eating time? It is useless to feed him, he feeds adults. He feeds his granny and I like babies. Can we say no to him? Forget it, he would remind us to eat so we would grow bigger. Lately he imposes adults around him to eat, or else they will die.

10. It is useless telling him that my books and documents are not colouring books. When I told him to see what kind of paper it was before drawing on it, he said, "But I cannot read." The way it is useless to tell him that my legs are not canvas.

11. When his granny is angry with him and tells him to apologize, the dude would do. "Soyyie Patyick yeah Spongebob." (Sorry Patrick yeah Spongebob, well he doesn't know the word to forgive yet, indeed he's trying to say "Forgive Patrick yeah Spongebob", while Patrick is his granny and he's Spongebob, instead of "Forgive Spongebob").

12. Don't bother to keep your cappuccino away from him. He would make it by himself. Moreover it is useless to tell him that he should drink juice and milk, not coffee.

13. The dude surprised his teacher by colouring a picture of a glass with black, while his classmates had other colours. He simply replied it's coffee.

14. It is useless to tell him that my lipsticks are not crayons. He still grabs my lipsticks, no matter what brands they are, Clinique, Body Shop, MAC, Estee Lauder, Bobbi Brown, or whatever, he simply uses them as crayons. His most favourite canvas for lipsticks is my tall mirror hanging on the wall. As well as it is useless telling neither him not to apply lipstick on my lips nor his either. He finds it is amusing seeing us like clowns while I hate clowns.

15. There is no point tell him that his body and clothes are not canvas.

16. I found that it wastes my time and energy asking him not to swing my tall mirror. No matter how many times his granny and I warn him, he keeps doing it until he saw my wrapped up leg. So I told him that he would be wrapped up top to toe if the mirror falls over and hit him. He stops swinging the mirror for a while.

17. The dude stays with me for a while since his granny looks after me while my ankle is wrapped up nicely like a birthday gift. It interests him. It is useless telling him not to knock it. So the better way is asking him to give my right leg massages. He does give me massages with his tiny palms. Well, it's more like he pinches me hundred times instead of pampering me.

18. Once he threw his toy and accidentally hit his mum's forehead. It's useless to tell him to apologize. He insisted that he should be punished and beaten instead of saying sorry. It's useless to tell him that no one may and wants to beat him, until he was told that the one who beats him would go to jail. Then he said sorry to his mum.

19. He simply says, "It is not tasty." No matter who serves the food, and sometime it is embarrassing when others give him meals.

20. He loves phones. Everywhere we go, if he sees any public phone booth, then we have to stop and ring someone. Real phone calls, not faux ones. So, if we see 10 booths it means we have to stop 10 times.

21. What is a cellphone? Forget that it is a personal belonging. "Heyo, ic thic mictey tyain? Pyease take Spongebob to Bandung." (Hello, is this Mr. Train? Please take Spongebob to Bandung.). Once even worse, he dialled a number, an international one. Bye bye phone credit, I needed to reload it again.

22. He refused to go to school because his teacher threw away his centipede which he thought should go to school too. (It's useless telling him that Ulil the centipede doesn't need to go to school)

23. On another day he refused to go to school. When his teacher asked him, he simply replied, "Skyuy not fun. Spongebob boyd." (School is not fun. Spongebob is bored).

24. It's useless asking him to count in Bahasa Indonesia only when he is at school. He keeps counting in English. The way it is useless telling him that butterfly and kupu-kupu; blue and biru; purple and ungu are the same.

25. What is his least favourite number? It is six. No matter what language he counts in, he skips 6. Well at least he's been consistent, either in Bahasa Indonesia, English, Javanese, Sundanese or Dutch, he skips 6. When he is reminded to count six, he simply says that he doesn't like 6 so he skips it.

26. It takes lots of energy, especially not to laugh to take him sleep. Even tho the TV and lights are off, and we all are in bed he would keep noisy. He demands this and that, talks and tickles everyone. One night after I switched off TV and lights, pretended to sleep, he hugged Goofy, woke up and prayed, "God, ay syeeping. Spongebob have no fyen. God heyp me. Dayk." (God, all is sleeping. Spongebob have no friends. God help me. Dark.)

27. He changes words the way he wants and let others guess. The latest one he changes other vowels in words into Es.

28. The winner is…sure Chinese New Year fever with barong sai insanity. It is absolutely noisy when he dances or plays the drum (it's a plastic container actually). Looking forward to see when this fever ends.

So, who says that children are powerless? I turn to be powerless against this boy in diaper.
Bob, Goofy and Ade miss you.

Sorry, but…

2007-05-04T00:56:00.000+07:00

- I didn't love you the way you loved me. Thanks for letting me go. 3x

- You, well, I am speechless. You brought a girl and shagged her at my place. Thanks for helping me to grow. You are forgiven.

- You couldn't take me as a person and wanted me to be your doll. You couldn't stand what I had got in my life. Thanks for…don't know yet.

- You decided to leave me for another girl, left me heart broken. No matter how much you still love me at the moment, you chose to be with her. Thanks for still being there for me. I love you too.

- You didn't want any stable relationship and broke my heart cruelly. It was hurt. Thanks for making me making me understand the meanings of silence. Thanks also for the bright discussions. I still love you.

- You couldn't stop longing for her and decided to live in your past life. Ah, you rock. Thanks for coming over in my life, yeah you're an ex. I do deeply love you.

Sorry dudes, but life goes on.

North Star

2007-04-30T17:40:00.000+07:00

Dear H,

I may be down at the moment, but this also shows me how blessed I am. I told Dhawie, my bestfriend, that at this moment I cannot deny the blessings of my Lord. I found how blessed I am having mama, Putra, you and her as a bestfriend.

Do you remember our evening in Lombok when I was mad with my friend? He said sorry to me, then I sent him an email. It was a bloody long email. I wrote down what had happened on that evening on me. I told him about our discussion. Then I realized another thing. Do you remember you asked me where the North Star was? I told him about that. I told him that you asked me where it was and showed it to you. I recalled my professor once said to me," There will always be a True North deep in your heart, just follow it." You are not my North Star, no, because it is my consciousness. You are the one who shows me where the North Star is. You are the one who would hold my hand and guide me. You are the one whom I can lean on when I am tired. When I wrote down that email, I felt how warm it was to love you.

More and more friends asked me. I had to answer similar questions over and over again. It never happened before. When I dated someone else, people just didn't buy it. In a sudden it had changed. At first I was annoyed with it, but now not anymore. Every time I tell one about you and us, I find myself love you even more. I found that you make me see the blessings of the Lord more and more. It maybe not usual romantic relationship, I am not afraid of failure to be with you. I am not scared to spend my life with you. Indeed I await to wake up next to you, sleep beside you, even after 40 years.

I love you in a simple way. You make me love others, universe, nature, God more. You show me a true love without expectation from the universe. You make me see what I couldn't see. You open my eyes, ears and heart. You water the positive seeds in my soul and let them grow. You make me understand that Qoran verse more, "Then which blessings of your Lord will ye deny?" Nothing, I cannot deny the blessings of my Lord.

A friend asked why I didn't ask you to be a muslim. I told him, "I don't want to ask my love to be a muslim. He loves the universe and makes me see the blessings of the Lord more than anybody can do, more than any imams. I love him the way he is." Then he understood me and said that I had found my true love. One thing that I believe is love can be up and down, so is life. But I am not scared, because you open yourself for the blessings from universe and embrace it. I know, we will be grateful to what we have got time to time, and it is stronger than normal romantic relationship.

I see the love of universe through your smile and eyes. I feel the love of the Queen of the South when I feel your love. You know that you have a wonderful ability to love? You are able to love without any sacrificing yourself. You can love me without turning to be someone else to satisfy me.

There was a commercial break on, it's about a young bloke who was asked when he would get married. He simply answered, "Maybe yes, maybe no." My sister, Liza said that I was like that before. When one asked when I would get married I would answer the way I wanted. "Maybe yes, maybe no." "I am divorced." Or whatever I liked. Now, it has changed. I voluntarily say, "I am unofficially engaged but I will marry my man. The game is over now."

I may not know how to describe how I feel clearly. I just want to tell you, that having you beside me not only makes me love you more. With you, I love myself, universe and God even more. Thank you for everything. Thank you for showing me how blessed I am.

love
es soon will be ess

Here and Now

2007-04-01T23:28:00.000+07:00

Life is here and now, it’s not about the past, neither the future. Remember what has happened in the past, and learn from it. Dream about the future and reach it. Still, life is what happens here and now.

The problem is, what here and now is.

Whose here? My good friend often says, “Wish you’re here, I miss you badly.” The same way I often reply him, “Well I am here as usual. Just your here and my here are different.” So we often jokingly add the word my. I wish you’re here, my here.

What about now? Bloody hell different time zone. An hour different is already complicated, what about 13 hours? He sleeps when I am awake, and I sleep when he is awake. When he wants to discuss about critical theories, I am in a critical state to sleep. When I want to discuss about postmodernism, he’s in prehistoric state and only grumbles grrr grrr grrr zzzzzzzzzz.

Some trusted friends told me that when we really believe in one thing, the universe will open up our way to get it. Maybe I would pray and ask that California would move next to Jakarta. (OK…it would be easier for the universe to open up the way for us to move and live closer instead of moving a city).

How Lucky I am

2007-03-24T01:53:00.000+07:00

Thank God for reminding me how lucky I am

When I am low, there are people who cheer me up

When I am lost, there are people who show me the way

When I need to know about music, You sent me a maestro

When I need to know about literature, You sent me a poet

When I need to know about politic, You sent me a politician

When I need to know about environment, You sent me an environmentalist

When I need to know about community, You sent me an activist

When I need to know about foreign aids, You sent me a loan shark

When I need to know about love, You sent me to a mental hospital

For A, thanks for the interesting discussion

Time to Quit

2007-03-24T01:45:00.000+07:00

Once a friend said this to me, “Sometimes I don’t know the difference between to be persistent and dumb.”

I think being persistent is knowing the limit, has feasible goals and know when to quit. It would be better well equipped with alternative solutions to solve a problem. However, sometimes it is not easy to know when to stop. Time to quit.

I met a very nice man, I liked him a lot. I tried all my best to be with him. He asked me to keep in touch with him when he was away and I did. It’s like a drama, once he seemed wanted to be with me, but then…boom…he didn’t want me anymore. He wanted me, he didn’t want me. It’s on and on.

I kept trying and trying. I tried to understand that he might be afraid to get hurt, and I was patient. He didn’t treat me bad, just ignored me. It hurt me badly.

Until one night before slept, I realized how bad he treated me. He treated me as if I were a yoyo. He controlled over my brain and heart. He was the one who decided whether or not we should meet. So all was up to him, all I could do just listen and follow his decisions. For what? To win his heart. By what? By forgetting my heart.

So on that night, tears dropped on my cheeks. I decided to quit. I might love him badly. I might need him badly. I might want him badly. He might have made me happy, but trying to win his heart was totally devastating. It exhausted me. I decided to quit. I decided to stop wanting him, no matter how brokenhearted I was. I decided to win my heart back. This heart should have been loved more than his.

This is what I call knowing when to quit. It’s dumb if I didn’t quit.

In the morning I woke up and looked horrified. I couldn’t face the world. What would I do then? I covered up all the hurts I got. I put some make up on and tried to smile.

Until one day, I got a message. Yes, life is not only about him. There is someone next to me now. Someone, who cares about me with all his heart.

For someone...let’s move to the next chapter and thanks for the inspiration. You make me more creative

Love Letter

2007-03-24T01:35:00.000+07:00

A love letter sample of a programme manager

To whom it may concern,

Dear Sir,

I would like to admit that I miss you badly. I believe that you are well aware about this issue. Please allow me to explain the problem a bit more.
Based on our meetings and contacts, I phrased a problem statement. It was "Can I get along with this person and establish a relationship?" Indeed, this problem statement was a preliminary step prior the real assessment.

Based on collected data interpretation, I found that the happiness, intelligence, attention, care and comfort scores are pretty high. However there are also some low scores. These low scores are on communication, withdrawing, and the lowest score is on fear of get hurt.

Therefore I could argue that the dynamic between us can be pretty joyful and brings happiness to us both. On the other hand, it is also fragile and scary. The happier we are, the further we withdraw ourselves and create further distance to avoid hurt.

Based on this dynamic analysis, I conclude that the relationship cannot exist until we both have the courage to move on. For that, we need to create a better two way communication channel that can facilitate us to express our ideas, feelings and so on, and build trust. The risk of this action is that it may lead us to adjust to each other, while the process takes time and energy. However, this action if it is fully succeed would improve the scores of happiness, comfort, attention, trust and so on, including communication.

Despite of this recommendation, there is another possible recommendation to be done. It would be less risky if we both simply decide to withdraw ourselves and return back to our comfort zones. As mentioned before, this action is less risky, where we both don't have to spend time and energy to adjust to each other. However, it also may lead us to lower our happiness score. Worse, it may lead to long term regret.

However, for your consideration, even though the first option has higher risk than the second one, I prefer the first option. My preference is based on an important underlining reason, which is my love for you. The risk of this option is less than the possible benefit that we can achieve. Therefore I can claim that this option is a feasible and beneficial for us both, even after the cost-benefit analysis. As consequence, this option also brings us to greater responsible, and for that we can design our next relationship development phase together, participatory.

With all respect, I wish you have a clear idea on what is going on between us based on my opinion. Since I cannot impose my idea on you, I will let you to take your time and make a decision which action you would prefer to pursue. Either it is the first or later option, I would respect your decision. However, I should also remind you, that I have developed a monitoring and evaluation system, equipped with feasible time table.

I really am sorry for not engaging you in developing this monitoring and evaluation system, since I have to consider my personal interests and further development programmes.

Please contact me for further discussion.

Unspoken Love

2007-03-19T01:49:00.000+07:00

I want to love you in a simple way

Like unspoken word of the wood

To the fire that burn him

I want to you in a simple way

Like untold sign of the cloud

To the rain that waive her

For the best coffeemaker on Earth who would never know this unspoken love

True Love

2007-03-19T01:46:00.000+07:00

Once I was discussing about what love is with a wise friend. She told me that for her love was simple, it was like the love of the wood to the fire that burn it. It’s like the love of the cloud to the rain that waives her. “But then it’s useless,” I cried to her. How could one love someone else without expecting anything in return? If I love a man, then I surely expect him to love me back. I just couldn’t understand the idea of loving someone and let him free. How could I let my partner be free fooling around with other girls?

Until I met him, the best coffeemaker on Earth. I met the one whom touches my heart more than anyone could ever do. Yet, he’s so fragile. I found me loving him in a quiet manner. I didn’t tell him. I cannot afford hurting him, so I keep my love to him in silence. Some beauties need only be whispers, and so does this love to him. This love only needs to be a whisper.

Halo BCA yang Tidak Halo

2007-03-16T14:20:00.000+07:00

Pagi ini aku dapat sms dari BCA yang menerangkan credit cardku jatuh tempo. Bingung lah, karena 9 hari yang lalu sudah aku bayar dengan jumlah diatas pembayaran minimal.
Hati masih adem coba nelpon Halo BCA. Ditelpon berulang kali gagal. Begitu masuk harus nunggu lamaaaaa banget sampai akhirnya aku putus dan nelpon lagi. Berhasil deh.

Masih dengan hati adem tanya ke mbak costumer service yang suaranya cantik. Aku jelaskan pertanyaanku. Aku bilang bahwa aku dapat sms yang menerangkan jatuh tempo padahal aku sudah bayar dengan jumlah di atas pembayaran minimal. Dia pun mengakui sudah ada pembayaran di tanggal 7, alasan disebut jatuh tempo karena aku belum bayar tagihan dengan lunas. Jadi aku cuma bayar bunganya doing. Bunga yang sama sekali tidak indah. Lah kok? Biasanya juga nggak apa-apa.

Aku tanya lagi pelan-pelan dengan logika rasional,"Saya bayar sebelum jatuh tempo dengan jumlah diatas pembayaran minimal. Masuk. Lah kenapa disebut jatuh tempo?"
Dijawab dengan jawaban yang sama.
Tanya dua kali. Jawaban sama.

Akhirnya aku pakai contoh, "Mbak, kalau tagihan mbak 10 juta, minimal bayar 1 juta, dan mbak bayar 1.1 juta sebelum jatuh tempo, bisa nggak? Ada nggak orang lain yang bayar sesuai tagihan minimal?"

Eh jawabannya sama lagi. Aku merasa GUOBLOK sekali diri ini kayanya. Aku ancam aja untuk bikin surat pembaca. Karena muangkel banget akhirnya ke kantor BCA Sudirman. Dandan dulu sih. Kita kan kalo mau perang dandan dulu.
Untungnya yang di sana lebih ramah dan kemudian minta maaf, ngakuin kesalahan mereka. Kasihan juga sih dia aku kasih senyum dan muka sadis. Kali mending dibantai sekalian daripada disapa dengan sapaan lembut dan muka bengis.
Halo BCA dodol!!!!

Children of Adam and Eve’s

2007-03-12T16:16:00.000+07:00

I am looking at my photo albums, recalling back my memories. There are lots and lots photos of my friends there, different races, ethnicities, religions, nationalities and so on. Looking at these colourful bunch of friends on my computer screen makes me wonder, how could I was told that we all are children of Eve and Adam’s? If yes, then how could we turn to be so colourful? But personally, I think this difference makes life more interesting. Well that’s not the point here, I am more toying with an idea about the future, not the past.

It seems that more and more people involve in interracial relationships, more and more mixed children wander around on Earth. What once was seen as a taboo, now becomes usual (I against normality, so I try to avoid the word normal). No, I don’t against this interracial relationship, I, myself don’t have any preference, but sexual preference when I date someone. I simply wonder what will happen in next 400 years. Maybe there won’t be any brownie girl with flat nose, black eyes and hair like me. There won’t be any yellow bloke with small black eyes like my friend in KL. There won’t be any girls with Viking looks, blonde, blue eyes, white. There won’t be girls with Middle Eastern looks with big black eyes and pointed nose. No curvy Indian girls wander around in saree. No Pocahontas with reddish skin. No curly brown hair with turquoise eyes like my Jewish friend. Sigh, and no sexy African blokes with beautiful eyes and curly hair. All will just mix up together.

I cannot imagine how my great great great grandchildren will look like, maybe they will have a bit dark skin (what will be the colour if black, white, yellow, brown, red mix together?). What about the eyes? Big rounded eyes like middle eastern’s and Indians? Or small like Orientals’? Blue, green, grey, brown or black? Well hopefully my great great great grandchildren will have African eyes, since I think they are lovely. What about the hair? Straight like my Chinese friend? Straight like my Norwegian friend? Wavy like mine? Curly like my Jewish friend? Or curly like my African friend?

Somehow, isn’t weird to see all people have similar looks, since they all are mixed? No race anymore. No different colour. Hopefully there will no war and prejudice.

PS: Don’t get offended with my non politically correct words please.

Dedicated for my big girl, future mrs. voisine who inspired me writing this

He's Not That Into You

2007-03-08T21:06:00.000+07:00

A friend gave me a book yesterday, He’s not That into You, as a birthday gift. It’s a book that shows girls the signs when men are not really into them. Wake up and move on, that’s the idea of the book. It is also written that girls deserve men who care about them. Yip, why bother and cry all night long because of someone who doesn’t even think of you?

The question is, well ok. If I meet a man, then I find he’s not into me, I move on and find another one. That’s simple. What about this, what if the one who is really into me is a drama queen? What if he is not sane? I recall someone I met about 2 years ago. He didn’t only annoy me, but also my friends. He rang me almost every hour. He got upset if I couldn’t answer his calls. He sent hundred text messages daily. Few times he insisted to come to my place, even tho it was after midnight and no one invited him. No matter how many times I told him not to do it, he said that it would be fine for him to come to my place from his. He shouted at me when I didn’t answer his call or messages. He kept saying that it would be fine no matter how many times I told him that I wasn’t into him. He told his friends that I was his girlfriend. Well no doubt he was that into me. But does it mean I should be with him just because he’s really into me? No, I decided to accept his lunch invitation, grabbed chocolate coated ice cream he brought for me (just because I didn’t like him, doesn’t mean I didn’t like the ice cream) and told him how annoying he was.

Then…end of the story. I ignored his calls, messages and so on.

Dedicated for the one who gave the book. Just because he’s that into you, doesn’t mean we have to be that into him.

Surprise!!!!

2007-03-07T19:47:00.000+07:00

What I saw when I walked into my room. Someone must had stolen flowers from the queen's garden

My Ultimate Pitfalls

2007-03-07T15:25:00.000+07:00

I went to some schools, busy collecting pieces of paper. But in the end, there won't be any different between an illiterate woman and me. Those pieces of paper won't be needed and no one will ask.

I work hard wishing I could buy a house, the one at that corner. It's lovely with big yard and many trees. But in the end, there won't be any different between a bum who doesn't have a home and me. We both will be buried down there.

I wear handwoven silk top and handmade batik sarong, lovely and fancy. In real there is no difference between simple clothe that being worn by a poor woman and my fancy outfit. Both simply cover up our breasts, vaginas and some other parts.

I eat fancy meals in fancy restaurants that cost months of average monthly salaries of people in Jakarta. In the end, my meals only turn to be shits.

An Illiterate Devil

2007-03-06T21:26:00.000+07:00

As other small kids, my three year old nephew loves drawing on the wall and floor.

“Don’t draw on the wall! Do it on paper.”

“Ok.”

Then he drew on my documents. What??????

“Bob, choose other paper, not on my documents.”

“But Spongebob can’t lid.” (But Spongebob can’t read)

Humph…

2007-03-06T09:49:00.000+07:00

Dear My Adam*,

I will be 29 soon so I think it is time for me to let you know what I feel and think.
My peers maybe already have some kids, and I don't. But don't worry, I am not in hurry. Indeed I don't know yet whether or not I want a biological one.
My dearest soulmate, I still enjoy my life and don't want to change it yet. I am not ready to share my bed, goofy, and all remote controls. Even tho I have been waiting for almost 29 years, I don't think I am ready to meet you at the moment.
So, enjoy your life and come to me in few years later. You can date as many girls as you want now. Do whatever you want to do as long as it doesn't harm or abuse others. Don't worry about your other half, she's happy and enjoying her life fully.

With love
An Eve

*Presumably my soulmate is an adam, not another eve or something in between

Endless Questions

2007-03-06T09:42:00.000+07:00

A 3 year old boy named Putra but lately names himself as Spongebob (after a quite long period of being Boots) has endless questions. It is fun knowing his curiosity toward many things, but sometimes it is exhausting. Why this? Why that? Why not this? Why not that? The most complicated part is finding simple words to answer his (sometimes non simple) questions.

“Why fyad? Why too much yain? Why people thyow gaybage not in bin?” (Why flood? Why too much rain? Why people throw garbage not in bins?)

Once my mum was praying, and the dude asked her not to pray.

“Patyick, why you pyay? You ack thing fyom God?” (Patrick, why you pray? You ask thing from God?)

“I ask God to give us money for you to go to school.” (beep…..it’s a big big wrong answer. Don’t copy it.)

“Don’t ack money fyom God. Ack Ade.” (Don’t ask money from God. Ask Ade)

Laughter….

A Future Male Feminist

2007-03-06T09:26:00.000+07:00

"Ade mau kemana?"
"Ke kantor, mau ikut?"
"Ada taman bermainnya?"
"Nggak ada."
"Kenapa nggak ada? Anak-anak teyus mainnya dimana?"

Iya ya…ibu yang punya anak nggak bisa bawa anak di lingkungan kerja karena nggak ramah perempuan.

Love

2007-03-04T21:59:00.000+07:00

Once I asked my three year old nephew what love was. He smiled, ran to Goofy and hugged him. He kissed and stroked Goofy, then said, “Goofy thank you foy heyping me. I yuv you.” (Goofy thank you for helping me. I love you).

(Once he fell over from bed and fortunately Goofy was on the floor so the little bloke didn’t hit the floor)

Bius Lokal

2007-03-04T21:46:00.000+07:00

Seorang teman yang sering melabeliku snob, karena aku suka dengan jus jeruk yang (tidak mahal tapi) sulit didapat dan bawa teh di tas supaya bisa menolak teh yang ditawarkan orang. Dia bilang aku snob dan picky, maunya cuma Pepermintnya Dilmah’s atau Chamomilenya Twinning’s (tolong dicatat ya). Padahal ini cuma masalah selera, bukan karena mahal maka aku milih, aku belum gila kok. Kalau ada yang murah kenapa mesti yang mahal?

Temanku ini cerita tentang temannya yang anak orang yang suangat kuaya ruayaaaa saking kuayanya. Suatu hari teman kayanya ini mau operasi kecil (terakhir, ketahuan ini terjadi sekitar 30 tahun lalu kayanya soalnya ternyata operasi sunat aka sirkumsisi aka khitan aka potong ujung titit). Nah ibunya si teman, yang snob habis jreng jreng jreng ketemu sama si dokter.

“Ibu, anak ibu akan kami beri bius lokal*.” kata si dokter.

“Apa??? Bius lokal buat anak saya? Nggak bisa, harus yang impor. Pokoknya biusnya harus yang import yang bagus.” tandas si tante yang yakin segala yang imported adalah hal yang bagus.

Nggak tau deh si dokter neranginnnya gimana.

Note: bius lokal adalah bius yang biasanya dipakai untuk mati rasa di bagian tubuh tertentu doing, contrary dengan bius total yang bikin orang ko’it untuk sementara waktu (dan denger-denger sekarang bius local dianggap lebih aman)

Anak Tukang Rokok

2007-03-04T21:43:00.000+07:00

Aku tinggal di Menteng, sebuah kampung sepi dengan banyak pepohonan di pusat Jakarta. Di suatu sore yang sepi di kampung sepi ini aku jalan kelaparan dan memutuskan untuk cari cemilan di luar. Kebetulan nggak terlalu jauh (ukuranku) ada stasiun kereta Cikini dan Alfa. Maka, berjalanlah perempuan kucel ini dengan rok batik pendek yang dibeli 15 tahun lalu (dulu harganya 4000 padahal keluaran Batik Keris), kaos harga 9.900 beli 4 dapat 5 di Matahari Jogja dan sandal jepit Bata harga 300 baht diskon 20% yang dibeli gara2 sepatunya jebol.

Di tengah jalan di depan kantor Golkar aku lihat ada tukang bakso sederhana. Jualnya cuma mangkal di bawah pohon dengan satu kursi panjang yang tidak terlalu panjang dan sepeda lengkap dengan panci baksonya. Aku tertarik untuk beli dan memesannya. Ternyata si penjual sangat ramah dan menyapaku dalam bahasa Jawa. Sebagai orang Jawa gadungan yang belajar bahasa Jawa beberapa tahun lalu tentu aku menjawabnya dalam bahasa Jawa yang halus dong, bagaimanapun dia lebih tua. Ini pembicaraan setelah diterjemahkan ke Bahasa Indonesia.

“Bapak gimana kabarnya?” tanyanya yang membuatku bingung. Papaku kan sudah meninggal lama.

“Bapak kenal bapak saya?”

“Mbak anaknya Pak Sardi kan?”

“Pak Sardi?”

“Alah Mbak nggak usah pura-pura. Pasti anaknya Pak Sardi tukang rokok jalan Surabaya situ.”

“Pak, saya bukan anaknya Pak Sardi. Mungkin mirip.”

“Ah nggak mungkin. Persis kok. Halus-halusnya juga. Salam ya buat bapak.”

(berhubung percuma bilang aku bukan anak Pak Sardi maka kuiyakan aja)

Aku bilang mama dan kakakku tentang si tukang bakso. Mereka ngakak bukan kepalang. Karena penasaran ibuku pun ingin lihat dan membuktikannya. Kemudian kami berdua jalan dan beli bakso di tempat yang sama.

“Pak tolong baksonya dua.”

“Wee anaknya Pak Sardi. Ini Bu Sardi ya? Kok tumben keluar Bu? Kiosnya siapa yang jaga?” katanya sambil nyapa mama yang disambung gelak tawa mamaku.

“Iya Pak, kalau jaga terus nanti malah pusing.” Jawab ibuku sambil nyengir.

(walah pak bakso kok malah sekarang ibuku jadi istrinya Pak Sardi)

Begitu tahu tentang ini, kakak dan masku penasaran. Mereka memutuskan untuk datang dan lihat. Eng ing eng…Pak bakso pun tertegun waktu lihat ibu dan kakakku yang jadi iseng suka nongkrong di tempatnya datang dijemput mobil hitam kinclong. Mungkin dalam hatinya “wah anaknya Pak Sardi sudah jadi orang” (masa jadi kucing). Kakakku dengan penasarannya malah buka kaca mobil lebar-lebar dan menyalami pak bakso sambil senyum. Diiringi dengan lambaian heboh anaknya yang sibuk antara lihat tukang arum manis ke kiri sama kereta api di kanannya.

Suatu hari aku sambil agak dandan dikit karena nunggu teman mau jalan ke Alfa, artinya ngelewatin Pak Bakso. Pulangnya sekalian mampir dan pesan. Tumben dia nggak ramah seperti biasanya. Dia lebih banyak diam dan cuma mandangin aku penuh selidik. Aku nggak tau ada apa sama dia. Waktu aku tanya dia bilang dia baik-baik aja.

Hari ini aku baru tau. Mama pergi ke pasar Cikini (rasanya nggak ada Pasar Menteng soalnya, mungkin orang Menteng nggak perlu makan jadi nggak ada pasar) dan pas pulang beli bakso buatku. Si tukang bakso minta maaf sama mama karena ngira dia istri tukang rokok dan aku anak tukang rokok. Kata mama si Pak Bakso bilang kalau dia malu sekali karena salah nyangka. Yakin sih mama pasti akan bilang ngga apa-apa.

Indeed nggak apa-apa. It was a good laughter for us. Malah kata mama, coba tukang rokoknya kaya Sampoerna, apa nggak tajir abis tuh.

Ealah Pak Raden, anak istrinya kok ya disangka anak istri orang lain Boss. Rest in Peace Pa.

Letter for Minister of Communication and Information

2007-03-04T21:41:00.000+07:00

Dear Minister of Communication and Information,

Sir, I read on newspaper that you would send a letter to a TV talkshow, called Republik Mimpi (Republic of Dreams). It is written on newspapers that you thought this talkshow does not educate Indonesians, because it parodies the leaders of this country, Indonesia. But sir, I don’t understand it.

I saw this talkshow few times, indeed it is one among small numbers of shows that I watch on TV, and I couldn’t see which part of the show that degrades our leaders. Yes, there are faux presidents and vice presidents, but so what? It’s the leaders of Republik Mimpi, not this country. Yes, they criticize and parody the situations in Indonesia, but so what? We laugh, even my maids laugh and wait this show. What makes you so upset? We don’t live in an era where a powerful one can control media and information. Well, surely you know this better since you are the minister of communication and information, not me.

I just think that you would fool yourself by protesting the show, worst if you really ban the show. Even my 3 year old nephew (no kidding, I’m serious) when he knew that this show was protested by you, asked his granny and I.

”Why Yepubyik Mimpi ic pyotested?”

“Because one of the ministers thinks it makes fun the leaders of this country.”

“Why he cinks co? Ic he the yeadey?”

“He’s a helper of the leaders.”

“Ay the yeaders angyie with the chow?”

“Don’t know. They don’t comment anything.”

“Why ic the heypey angyie?”

“That’s a good question. It seems that perhaps he will ban the show too.”

“What ic ban the show?”

“It means you cannot watch it on TV anymore. Stop the show. So no more Republik Mimpi on TV.”

“Ic it yaik I cannot cee Spongebob and Tom and Jeyie anymoy?”

“Sort of.”

“But Spongebob and Tom and Jeyie ay still on TV. Co why Yepubyik Mimpi not?”

“Because he doesn’t like it.”

“He not yaik it and can stop it? Can he stop Tom and Jeyie too?”

“If he can stop Republik Mimpi then he can stop Tom and Jerry.”

“Who doecn’t layk Tom and Jeyie? Can I ask the TV to stop boying cinetyon and yuns Tom and Jeiyie onyie?”

“Well you can try, but I doubt the TVs would listen to you.”

“Why not?”

“Because you are a small kid for them, not a president’s helper.”

“Can I do what I want if I am a pyesident’s heypey?”

And silence. So sir, conclude yourself. I believe I don’t need to compare you to a kid in diaper who cannot pronounce his name properly yet.

(Based on real conversation with a three year old boy who brings happiness and craziness with his endless questions in my life)

Note:

Yepubyik : Republic

Ic : Is

Heypey : Helper

Layk : Like

Ay : Are

Angyie : Angry

Yeadey : Leader

Cee : See

Chow : Show

Jeyie : Jerry

Boying : Boring

Cinetyon : Sintron (soap opera)

Onyie : Only

Yuns : Runs

Goofy Kami Mencintaimu

2007-03-04T13:27:00.000+07:00

He said, "Goofy, we love you."

What Goes Around, Comes Around

2007-03-04T12:35:00.000+07:00

When I was a kid, my religious teacher often told me, “What goes around, comes around. Respect others; help they who are in need, especially they who don’t beg, and never expect them to return your kindness to you. Simply do this as your gratitude to the Lord. Lord never leaves you behind.”

Almost 29 year old, after up and down, happiness and sadness, laughter and tear, being sensitive and ignorant, being humble and arrogant, playing dumb and critical, I agree with my teacher. What goes around, comes around. Help others without any expectation but as gratitude to God and universe, and universe will open up your way.

How Many Chillies are Needed?

2007-03-04T12:33:00.000+07:00

Like other Indonesian families, my family enjoys various chilly sauces. Mum often grinds chillies with a pinch of salt and sugar, tomatoes, garlic and red onions, shrimp paste, mangoes and so on. It depends on the main dishes.

However, unlike most Indonesian families, my family doesn’t eat extremely spicy foods. So, if others need more than 5 chillies (some even needs more than 20 chillies), we are happy with 1-3 chillies, tiny ones. This morning mum asked me how many chillies I wanted for the chilly sauce, 2 or 3. I said 1.5 would be fine. So she chopped a tiny chilly and we had 1.5 chillies in the sauce, added with slices of mango, bunch.

For many Indonesians, chilly is an important ingredient. We need it in almost every meal we have. Few years ago, the price of chillies was rocketing high. It reached $9/kg, while before it was only 20 cents/kg. Surely many Indonesians were shocked, especially the poor who only could afford chillies as luxury in their lives. What did happen in my family? Mum and I (it was only us at home) only looked at each other and thanked God that we didn’t fancy spicy food so we’re fine.

Why Do I Get More Spicy Food?

2007-03-04T12:31:00.000+07:00

I have some dearly friends from many races, ethnicities and background. Sometime it is annoying when I go out with my Caucasian friends, especially with they who have been living in Asia for years.

I recall how Thais keep talking to me when I go out with non Asian look friends. When I go out with my Austrian friend who speaks Thai better than I do, the Thais keep talking to me in Thai. It happens also when I go out with my English friends who speak Thai fluently (thanks J for reminding me this).

The worst thing is not about communication but the food. Both in Thailand and Indonesia, when I go out for lunch or dinner with my non Asian look friends I have got more spicy food than them. No matter how many times my friends and I explain the sellers, that my friends want more chillies and I want less, it's useless. I still get more chillies.

Still one of the most horrible food experiences is when I go for lunch with my old friend. He's an Acehnese and enjoys (according to me) extremely spicy food. One day he went to Bangkok for a workshop and I visited him. We went to a restaurant and ordered food. I ordered since he didn't speak Thai at all. I warned the waitress to not make the food spicy. My friend asked what I told the waitress and he said No No. He told the waitress he wanted to make it really spicy. The dishes came and I couldn't even smell it. It's too much. I tasted a bit, and found it was uneatable. So, other meals for me.

Another spicy experience is India. Some friends whom I met in India wondered how could this Indonesian chick complained about how spicy the food was. One lesson learned I got in India, always prepare water and milk to accompany my meals. When water cannot calm down my burning mouth, milk will solve the problem.

To an Ulf Wherever You Are

2007-03-03T22:03:00.000+07:00

One day by chance I sent an sms to an unknown number. After about half an hour, I got a message from this unknown number. I said sorry for that mistake and he (later on I found that it was a he) said it was ok. He told me that his name was Ulf, but not related to Smurf even tho his name was similar. Indeed I thought it would be cute if he’s like Smurf, petit and blue.

Nothing was special about this incident. The funny thing is when I told my dear friend about this “presumably” good guy (well he forwarded back the message to me instead of ignoring it like what I usually did), she kneeled and prayed. She told me she prayed to Jesus, sought His help to let me meet him. I don’t even know him, the way he doesn’t even know me. I didn’t think about meeting him, and for sure he neither, but not this friend of mine. She believes that it would be great if I could meet him. Does she know him? Big NO.

Indonesians’ Staple Food

2007-03-03T21:52:00.000+07:00

Indonesia

is a pluralistic country, it lies between two continents, Asia and Australia. As the biggest archipelago country in the world comprises low and highlands, it is understandable that there are some staple foods in this country. The majority of Indonesians eat rice as their staple food, but there are also cassava, yams, taro, sago, corn and so on chosen as staple foods in this country. Papuans enjoy yams, taro and sago. Ambonese, even tho more and more eat rice, their staple food is sago. Madurese have corns. Dayaks (and maybe some other jungle tribes) eat yams and cassava.

Indeed these foods are not all. For some poor students in Jogja, city of education and culture in Indonesia, their staple food is instant noodle. What about in Meulaboh, West Aceh? Believe or not, my staple food when I lived there for few months after the tsunami was fried rice, not plain rice. For most of my living period there, I had fried rice at least twice a day. Fried rice with eggs, fried rice with chickens, fried rice with meats, well you just name it.

For years, my mum’s staple food was raw vegetable. After her brain surgery, mum only consumed milk and raw vegetables. Mum always says that she was like a cow.

What about me? What is my staple food? I think it’s seafood, fish mostly. So it is not rice with fish, but fish which sometimes with rice. Fried fish, steamed fish, baked fish, boiled fish, you name it. Last week my physician told me to limit my fish diet. He thought that the fat of seafood is not good for my ankle’s healing process. I was confused and asking him, what should I eat then. I asked my mum, “But all I have in my fridge is fishes and prawns. What will I eat then?”

Thank goodness, my ankle is fine now. No more cast and bandage. So, welcome back fish. I miss you badly.

Rimba Hati

2007-03-02T16:52:00.000+07:00

Berjalan di tengah keramaian, kusadari bahwa aku sendiri
Orang sibuk berlalu-lalang, tapi yang ada hanya kesunyian di hati

Terpekur di tengah keheningan, kudapati aku berada di tengah keramaian
Detak jantungku terdengar begitu keras, berceloteh gembira dengan hatiku yang penuh nyanyian

Learning from Children

2007-03-01T11:31:00.000+07:00

Indonesian is a contextual language, there is no tone and we don't have to pronounce words correctly. There is no complicated grammar either, no past, present and future tenses in Indonesian. I go yesterday, I go now, I go everyday, I go tomorrow and I have go, that simple.

Like other Indonesian families, my family does not speak Indonesian in appropriate grammar and pronunciations. We cut off and shorten words, especially the prefix, suffix and other ixes, including Asterix and Obelix. The term mengelem (=gluing) is pronounced ngelem only. We also mix some languages, so when we cannot find a term in Indonesian we simply jump and grab the similar term in other languages, English, Javanese, Banjar, or Dutch.

However, in this linguistic confused family, there is someone who speaks the most appropriate Indonesian. He speaks in an appropriate grammar and pronunciations even with his limitations. He doesn't cut off and shorten words, such as "mengelem", "mencintaimu" (love you), "memakan" (eating) and so on are pronounced grammatically perfectly right. That's a 3 year old boy. Perhaps it is time for adults to learn more from children and take children as role models.

Secondary School Research

2007-02-28T00:08:00.000+07:00

One day a brainy goodlooking female friend asked me, “What kind of girls do you think men like? Smart ass or pretty chick?”. Well I am not a man, so I don’t know. I told her that when I was in secondary school I had a small (questionable) research. I asked my male friends, which one they preferred, smart or pretty girls. Based on my friends’ answers I found that:

They who were not smart chose pretty girls and avoided smart ones since smart chicks were terrifying for them.
They who were smart preferred smart and pretty girls. They were not scared of smart girls, yet enjoy their girls’ looks.

Then the question is where do the non smarty pretty girls belong to?

Russian Ballet Show

2007-02-28T00:06:00.000+07:00

Today is Sunday, mum and I got ready to go to see a Russian ballet show. Sleeping Beauty, performed by the Russian State Ballet. We had two first class tickets so hopefully we would enjoy the show.

Mum was excited to see. She told me how amazed she was when she saw ballet for the very first time in her life. It was 1958 in Moscow, she was 6 year old and joined Indonesian cultural show in some countries. She said that she loved the ballerina costume. She recalled how beautiful the ballerinas danced and how they exchanged bouquets of roses after the show. There were some other Indonesian children in this even, but mum was the youngest one. She danced some Javanese dances, surely she got the bouquet.

Well, surely both mum and I enjoyed the ballet much. Not only the beautiful costumes, but also the male dancers’ bums. Their bums were so firm, so sexy. Wow.

Chinese New Year Fever

2007-02-28T00:01:00.000+07:00

When I was a kid Chinese New Year was one of my most favourite days. It wasn’t considered as an official holiday, but my Chinese friends usually didn’t go to school. After school I was in rush to get back home and dressed up, then visited to my Chinese friends’ houses. It’s always lovely, they served sweet cakes and good food, mie soa or long life noodle. The best part was surely the red envelope one. The earlier I could visit them, the more I would get.

Now, 2007, it seems that my 3 year old nephew continues this Chinese New Year fever. His granny took him to pray at some Chinese temples before the New Year and he enjoyed the prayer. Then the fever goes worse after he saw the lion and dragon dance aka barong and liong sai.

Before the New Year, his granny took him to see barong sai show. The show absolutely dropped this little dude’s jaw. He gave the dancers red envelopes, again and again. Still, thank goodness his half Chinese great grandmother wasn’t there, it would make him more generous and emptied his aunt’s wallet. Ever since, he has been busy pretending as if he was a dragon dancer and imposing his granny to be his mate. The dude dances and his granny plays the drum, or the vice versa version. What’s so bad about it? Nothing, but one of my non sexy sleeping gowns turns to be his costume.

Never Took The Time

2007-02-25T19:41:00.000+07:00

Never took the time, it’s an Akon’s song on his new CD. It’s about a man who’s left by his girl. He says that she never took the time to know him, while he needs her love.

I just found that my relationship fell apart when I heard that song for the first time. Without any doubt I agreed with Akon, yeah yeah he never took the time to know me. I wanted to shout at him and asked, “Don’t you know that I love you?”. I wanted him to know how hurt it was knowing him walked away and left me behind.

Then I was toying with my noisy mind. Why I blamed him for his attitude? Why I blamed him for leaving me? Why I blamed him for not taking the time to know me? What if it’s me who didn’t give him the chance to know me? What if it’s me who drew the line? What if it’s me who didn’t want to disclose myself to him?

It’s easier to blame on someone else for the hurt we get, instead of being true to ourselves.

Dedicated for someone who inspires me. Let’s find an eraser and erase that line

Brain or Heart???

2007-02-18T12:14:00.000+07:00

My dear friend who becomes a country coordinator of a UN body in Jakarta often says “Follow your heart”. Well…well…I think it is time for me to argue and say “Follow your brain”. It is not that I don’t believe in the power and wisdom of our hearts, but how sure we are that it is our heart and not impulse.

How many of you, who spends sometime to read my blog (thanks for that guys ^_^), have followed your heart then wished you never done that? How many of you who have wished that you should have listened to your brain before?

Fragile...Handle Carefully

2007-02-18T12:11:00.000+07:00

Fragile

Why is it difficult to be honest to ourselves? Why is it difficult to admit that we love someone? Why is it difficult to open our hearts for someone we care about? Feelings exposed and scared to get hurt avoid us from being with someone.

A friend said that he’s afraid to get hurt. He left behind and suffers horrible pain, he doesn’t want to get hurt anymore. Why we avoid pain? Why we manipulate others to avoid hurt? Can’t we enjoy the pain and take it as a learning process?

Requiem for unspoken love that has died in silence

In Love with a Geek

2007-02-18T11:45:00.000+07:00

I was chatting with an old friend. I told her my little secret. Almost three years ago I met a geek and had a crush on him. She knew that geek and couldn’t stop her laughter when she knew it. She said it’s hard to believe that I had a crush on that geek. Well, he’s not a hot Chinese. He is pursuing his PhD now, extremely smart and nice, a bookworm with thick eyeglasses, a real geek like in American movies, shy and doesn’t know what to do with girls. He blushes when it is about girls. He used to be the target among his friends (including my friend), they make fun of him because of his shyness. My friend also said that she never knew there’s a girl who approaches him.

Since I was a single (and still am) so it was fine for me to have a crush on him, no? My laughing friend said it was difficult to imagine with me, totally different persona.

My dear friend suggested me to communicate to this geek again and express my affection. Even tho she’s not sure what he would do when he know it. Blushing I guess.

Will Go for a Matchmaking Show

2007-02-17T23:43:00.000+07:00

There is a matchmaking show on TV. I watched it twice (ok, 1 and a half actually). At first I wasn't interested, but then I realized it is an interesting show. I think I want to try. Well, not to find my Mr. Right there for sure, but to get free facial treatment, full body spa and make over. Who doesn't want? Not me for sure, I want those free treatments.

True Love

2007-02-16T11:50:00.000+07:00

I was in rush went to the lobby, Sebastian would meet me there. I would have a lunch date with the most agreeable bloke in the building. I agreed to have a lunch today, on our first Valentine’s Day. Then I saw him on his black car, he smiled at me. His eyes sparkled when he saw me, God, how much I love those eyes.

I bumped into the car then we went for our lunch. Sebastian seemed happy. I kissed his cheeks softly and he blushed. We ordered our lunch and enjoyed the meals. Sebastian enjoyed his mango and apple, I couldn’t stop smiling when I saw him having his lunch.

After lunch we went to a CD shop. I found a Chloe’s CD, a 14 year old girl with angelic voice. In that store Bastian and I were hugging and shaking are bums (now it doesn’t seem romantic anymore, but it was really romantic). I just love hugging him, never get enough of it. Somehow I didn’t know what to say knowing Sebastian was trying to touch I’ie’s boobies, dang…men.

Then the time had come, we had to return back, the date was over. Thanks for the lovely date Bast, love you.

Shhhh Bastian is taking a nap now with his nanny and Cuncin in his arms

Relationship???

2007-02-15T15:02:00.000+07:00

What is a couple? A wedded couple is easier to describe, but what is boyfriend-girlfriend? If I like an adam and he likes me too, we spend some times together, we communicate in a more intensive and intimate way than with other friends, we kiss and a bit more (ok…it's up to you guys, can be a bit and lots), I get jealous when a girl approaches him, the way he does, but we never say love, does it mean this adam and I are boyfriend-girlfriend? Yes, the L word is seen as a sacred word, unspoken one. It's a death penalty. No no, you don't want to say it. The way this adam and eve refuse to say the L word to avoid the future hurt. So, is he a lover or a fuckbuddy?

A Simple Beauty that Only Needs to be a Whisper*

2007-02-13T08:33:00.000+07:00

"I realized that I love you when you walked away, out of that door. I didn’t know what my life would be without you.”

Often we don’t see how precious what we have, keep longing for other things, then realize that we have lost our precious treasure. When the time has come, it is useless. There is no undo or redo buttons in our lives, we may can do harm control to minimize the lost, but still we cannot undo what we have done.

Sometimes a beauty does not speak loudly, it does not bang your head. Sometimes a beauty whispers to your ears and comforts you when you are low. Sometimes a beauty looks valueless when you are busy with the noisy crowd in your head, and you forget about tender voice that soothes your pain that comes because of the noisy crowd.

Then without you know that, the beauty doesn’t live there anymore. You may realize that you have lost your precious beauty one day when you try to find that soothing comforting beauty. The way you may never realize that you have lost the beauty you had possessed once and keep busy with your banging noise in your head. Worst, you may never realize that once you had had a beauty that soothed and calmed you, then you only know that there is something missing, but you never know what it is.

In memoriam of a dead unspoken beauty. It doesn’t live there anymore.

*Inspired by Katie Mehlua’s song, I Cried for You

Hit, and Don't Run

2007-02-13T08:25:00.000+07:00

It is easy to fall into someone, but it never been easy to heal the wound because of the fall.
It takes only a glimpse to start loving someone, takes few weeks to try to get along together, takes a few months to leave and takes few years to get through it.

Somehow I think love is like a sharp knife that cuts our hearts and souls. If the cut is done carefully and wisely, the result might be a master piece artwork. On the other hand, if it is not, and it only leaves the hearts and souls wounded for nothing but sorrow. Then the poor hearts and souls will change for ever, some learn from their pasts, some don't.

Love is a process I guess. Well you don't have to agree with me. It is like a piece of wood that turns to be an artistic wooden carving by the effort of an artist. An artist may take years and years to learn how to cut, carve, shape, paint and so and so before she or he can produce any wonderful carvings. Before the artist is skillful enough to carve a piece of wood and makes it to be a nice carving, she or he might need thousand pieces of woods, then throw them away. An artist might have cut his/her own hands, both during learning and making processes, but then it is worthy. Without this effort our artist will never be able to produce any single artistic piece of works.

Well, so it is fine to do mistakes, as long as we learn from our mistakes, like the artist above. Just then my naughty mind questions me, how to differentiate between persistent and don't know when to quit (oh yes, knowing when to quit is important I guess). How if I wasn't born to be a carpenter? How if I wasn't born to be a musician? How if I wasn't born to be a dancer? How if I wasn't born to be with him? When should I quit and face the truth?

Then…another naughty toying question is…what about those thousand pieces of woods? Has anyone asked how they feel? They are cut, scratched, hammered and so on, then they turn to be nothing but trash. They do nothing but helping someone to produce a masterpiece, and no one remembers them.

Requiem for "the losers" who are forgotten by the history.

The Loveliest Love Expressions

2007-02-12T13:15:00.000+07:00

I don’t buy romance, simply don’t believe in any happy endings. There is no such happily ever after. We were born solely, and will depart solely. Again, thanks to Ron who tells me, 80% of relationships fail, so why it is so surprising when ours fail? Fall, then take a breath and stand up again.

Just because I ain’t a romantic person doesn’t mean I never fall into someone. It’s a big wrong, I fall, take a deep breath and stand back again, on and on. Or maybe it’s just my foolishness fall into some Mr. Wrong again and again, and simply hoping that one day I would find my Mr. Right. Indeed I am more into believing building the right relationship instead of finding Mr. Right. Oh well…enough introduction.

There are some lovely love expressions, some are mine, some are not (hey…even tho I use the word I, doesn’t mean all I write here is about me actually). And I am feeling happy enough to share some to you all.

Thank you, you make me happy more and more.
You make me feel loved.
You make me smile and laugh more.
You make me enjoy my life more than before.
You make me know that you care about me and let me love you without making me depend on you. You make me safe and comfort to be what I am. You are like a condom for me, make me feel secure and independent at the same time (ok…it’s mine for an adam)
Silence…and simply holds the eve he loves in his arms then strokes her hair.
I can find that CD if you want to, I can send it to you via international mail.
No one talked to me the way you did to me. You understand me well without me telling you anything (dang…the eve that this adam loves must be a psychic)
I have been searching him for years (look at someone on my friend list’s blog, you would see whose this line is ^_^).
You complete me.
Without you I am fine, but to be with you makes me alive.
I feel that you understand me well, thank you for loving me.
Silent and simply hold the hand of an Eve that this Adam loves and walks holding hand.
Honey you mean a lot to me, I cry when you cry (exactly when an Eve is almost crying).
You might be nothing to the world, but to me you are the world.
An elder couple who dances silently and stares at each other’s eyes.
A humble couple who rides bicycle under heavy tropical rain and the eve holds the adam’s waist tightly.
My mum’s blue plastic comb from dad (look at my ooooold blog about this non fairy tale)
My late dad’s notebook that was found by mum, and it’s written “To love is Titing”, “To live is Titing”, “To life is Titing”, “To be happy is Titing”. Nothing else but these lines filling the entire notebook (Oh yes, Titing is my mum’s nickname).

Then my best collection is below:

You are all and end all to me.

You have more? Please do share.

A New Thing Will Come after You Let Go the Old One

2007-02-12T13:03:00.000+07:00

A friend told me that new things will come after I let the old thing go. It’s a Chinese saying, and I like it. It’s pretty wise I guess. Once, it meant I should let memories of an adam go, before get along with another adam. It’s fair enough. We cannot stick on memories of our exes when we want to start our new relationships. Unfortunately this wise friend of mine apparently has forgotten this saying. He doesn’t let the old thing go, so he cannot get the new thing.

I don’t know what to say to this friend of mine. He’s an adult, smart and wise enough to decide what he has to do. It is his own free will to decide. His life, his acts, his responsibilities, so there is no wrong about it, right? It’s just a pity, how he could persuade me to let old thing goes (no, I don’t regret it and do appreciate him for this), but he cannot persuade himself to let old thing goes.

I just hope that one day he would let the old thing go or fight to get it back again.

Heidi

2007-02-12T12:52:00.000+07:00

I bought a DVD, Heidi. It’s an old movie, and used to be one of my favourite childhood stories. It’s about a Swiss orphan who lives with her grandfather after her aunt leaves her at that old man’s cottage. Then her aunt takes her to a wealthy family’s house to be an acquaintance of the family’s physically challenged daughter, Clara, for some money. Sure her grandpa gets upset when Heidi’s aunt takes her away from his cottage. He lets her go since he worries about the future of the girl (he’s old…what can you expect him to think?). Then for a while Heidi lives in Frankfurt and brings happiness to all, but she isn’t happy. She misses her grandpa and gets sick. Then Heidi returns back home, later on Clara goes to Heidi’s place and learns how to walk there.

I watched this movie with mum this morning. We were touched (forget about crying, mum doesn’t cry and never let her daughters to cry) by seeing how broken hearted Heidi’s grandpa when Heidi goes to Frankfurt with her aunt. He tells Heidi that he doesn’t want her to be with him anymore. He throws away Heidi’s doll. No, it’s not that he doesn’t love her. Personally I think it’s a simple scene but perfectly portrays how difficult it is loosing someone we care about. The life of Heidi’s grandpa, Mr. Koller, is fine before Heidi came. Then Heidi comes and changes his life, it becomes merrier and happier for him, but later on it is also more difficult to live without Heidi around him. It will never be the same again. Or maybe it would be better if Heidi never comes to her grandpa’s life?

What about in real life? How many times we have cried over someone? I met a cool bloke then I fell in love with him, then time to say goodbye, then broken hearted. Sure, it’s followed by some period of healing moment, before fall into the same trap again. Meet another cool bloke, in love, goodbye part, broken hearted, healing time and back to the first stage. On and on, such an endless exhausting journey. Perhaps, it is better not to open heart and stay safe in own shell, so there won’t be any broken hearted moments. There won’t be moments when I long for someone and feel as if there is part of me missing. Moreover I were born alone, and will depart alone. So, what’s the point of falling into someone? What’s the point of short period of happiness when it kills you deep inside? Maybe it is better not to fall in love with anyone.

Wake Up!!!

2007-02-09T12:16:00.000+07:00

You don't care about yourself, then why should I care about you?
You don't love yourself, then why should I love you?
You don't try to help yourself, then why should I help you?

You Are Not What I Thought

2007-02-08T14:13:00.000+07:00

I was the only muslim in my class couple of years ago. None of my classmates had seen how muslims pray, so when I prayed they looked at me amazed. Then I got bunch of questions.

“You do that everyday?”

“You kneel five times a day?”

“You wash your face every single time before you pray?”

“You wear that white costume when you pray?”

“What do you say when you pray? Is it in Arab?”

“Why do you do this?”

“Aren’t you bored kneeling?”

“Don’t you get dizzy?”

“I thought Islam is equal to terrorism, but you don’t look like a terrorist.” (I bet this friend of mine hadn’t met my ex boyfriends who would say that I was a terrorist at least in their lives once ^_^)

Well, I think it is understandable why some people have no idea, but terrorism, when they hear the word Islam. Since they only have enormous information from one single point of views.

One of my American friends, who never been to Indonesia, was scared to death to come to Indonesia. He couldn’t imagine what could it be for an American wanders around in the biggest muslim country in the world (yeah a secular one tho). He thought that Indonesian muslims hate Americans. But then, when he came and saw with his own eyes he was surprised. Oh…these Indonesians are as humane as others.

The way some Farangs who never been to Thailand think that Thailand is the land of prostitution and most girls are for sale. It sucks. But, understandable tho, since this information is the only thing that these dudes got. In fact…oh come on…there are more and more decent Thai girls (not saying that sex workers are indecent tho).

So, what’s so different between my American friend who had negative opinion against Islam since he had been constructed by negative information, with some dudes who think that Thailand is the land of prostitution while they never been there?

So…dudes…get out off your shell and have a look by yourself.

(No no…I am not that good muslim tho, so…let’s have some Margaritas)

Be All and End All

2007-02-08T14:11:00.001+07:00

“When you have it, then you don’t need anything else in the world. Like when you have had the best coffee maker on Earth, then you will not need to find another coffee maker. Simply ends all.”

Then why 80% of relationships fail? Why many wedded couples go to court and fight there? I thought it should be a Be All and End All. Well, maybe the coffee maker doesn’t work anymore.

PS: Thanks for a bloke who relates me to this song.

Children of Adam and Eve’s

2007-02-08T13:55:00.000+07:00

It seems that more and more people involve in interracial relationships, more and more mixed children wander around on Earth. What once was seen as a taboo, now becomes usual (I against normality, so I try to avoid the word normal). No, I don’t against this interracial relationship, I, myself don’t have any preference, but sexual preference when I date someone. I simply wonder what will happen in next 200 years. Maybe there won’t be any brownie girl with flat nose, black eyes and hair like me. There won’t be any yellow bloke with small black eyes like my friend in KL. There won’t be any girls with Viking looks, blonde, blue eyes, white. There won’t be girls with Middle Eastern looks with big black eyes and pointed nose. No curvy Indian girls wander around in saree. No Pocahontas with reddish skin. No curly brown hair with blue green eyes like my Jewish friend. Sigh, and no sexy African blokes with beautiful eyes and curly hair. All will just mix up together.

Somehow, isn’t weird to see all people have similar looks, since they all are mixed? No race anymore. No different colour. Hopefully there will no war and prejudice.

PS: Don’t get offended with my non politically correct words please.

How’s Your Burmese Boyfriend Doing?

2007-02-08T13:50:00.000+07:00

I went out for a dinner with my Vietnamese friend. Then some other (a bit much elder) friends, an Austrian man, a European woman and an American who marries a Vietnamese Canadian woman came and joined us. We talked about many topics, my Vietnamese friend shared her stories about contemporary situation in

Vietnam

to our American bloke.

Stunned by how fluent my friend explained about Vietnam to others, the European woman commented her opinion. She said that she’s surprised that Asian woman could be so bright these days. “Perhaps because you have better nutrition now.” she added.

“I think we have different genes. Europeans’ are better. We have different figure, we are bigger. Then you also have more ladyboys, gays and such and such here in Asia. Not like in Europe. Don’t get me wrong, I think you girls are smart. But it’s just different. You also are more prone to…what is that when your mouth is not perfect and there is crack there?” she said. She kept arguing her opinion when men said that it was not true at all.

Then this angelic devil smiled,”So, how’s your Burmese boyfriend doing? Is he in Thailand or in Yangoon?”

When She Is Angry

2007-02-07T09:26:00.000+07:00

God is angry because we, people, are bad. We are sinners so God warns us through disasters, like the current flood in Jakarta. To avoid God’s anger, we should introspect what we have done and sought Her forgiveness.

Well…no, it’s not my opinion. My God is a loving God, She doesn’t demand anything from Her creatures. She’s not an angry God who simply punish Her weak creatures through disasters. Moreover, She has other thing to do instead of punishing Her creatures.

If we need to please God, maybe we should sacrifice more. I have read that some ancient tribes sacrifice humans to soothe the God’s anger. So maybe we need to kill some people and sacrifice them to God. Let’s start by sacrificing our corruptors like during ancient time. I think it is better than sacrificing children to soothe God’s anger.

If the disaster is because of God’s anger, then we should please God. So why is it now we cannot sacrifice humans anymore? What makes it different?

Don't Cut Off The Trees

2007-02-06T13:40:00.001+07:00

I got an sms from a friend in Switzerland. He saw on TV about flood in Jakarta. He also told me that (based on that TV show) the reason why of the flood is people cut off the forest in Jakarta.

I smiled while I was replying his message. “There wasn’t any forest in Jakarta, it was swamp before”

Teman, Malaikat atau Pengkhianat?

2007-02-05T23:46:00.000+07:00

teman itu apa sih? kadang aku bingung
apa itu teman yang baik? dan apa itu teman yang tidak baik?
ketika aku melakukan sesuatu untuk temanku karena aku sayang sama dia (maka aku, asumsinya, baik), tapi bagaimana kalau kemudian aku kecewa dengan teman tersebut? dan berteriak dalam hati...

dude...i was the one who was there for you. i was the one who took care of you when you were low. not that person. you know how that person treated me badly, how could you do this to me?
nah...jadinya si aku teman yang baik atau tidak? atau si dia yang tidak baik?

mbuh...jadi...teman itu apa?

A Call from An Unknown Number

2007-02-05T20:21:00.000+07:00

An unknown number rang me. I was suspicious who it was, he knew my real name, which was unusual. Most people only knew my nickname, Evie. Then he told me who he was and asked whether or not I still remembered him. I was so surprised when I knew who it was. It’s my primary school teacher, and we hadn’t met for almost 17 years. Oh my god…I don’t know what to say, it’s simply overwhelming. It’s wonderful to know someone cares about you for nothing.

What A Challenging Country

2007-02-05T13:06:00.000+07:00

Sometimes it is difficult when my foreign friends ask me about

Indonesia

, I have to think carefully before answer their questions. How is the situation in Indonesia? What about the Indonesian culture? How is Indonesians’ lifestyle? Believe me, it is not that easy to answer these kinds of questions. Indonesia is a pluralistic country, so it is difficult to generalize the situations.

Indonesia

contains more than 13.000 (or 17.000 yeah???) islands, its people has hundreds of local languages with more local dialects, different cultures, different lifestyles and so on.

Once I explained a friend about how plural Indonesia is, he asked me what united Indonesia. At that time there was only one thing on my mind, Indonesian language. Bahasa Indonesia is our official language, so mostly Indonesians speak 2 languages, bahasa Indonesia and their local language, not all though, some speak Bahasa Indonesia and English/Chinese/Urdu. Now, I think there is another thing that unites Indonesians, it is disaster, both natural and human made disasters.

Indonesia lies on the fire belt, so it’s been pretty shaking for centuries. Earthquake here and there in this country, ranging from minor ones (5 Richter Scale is still considered as minor ones for most people here in this country, especially after the tsunami in Aceh…Oh…it’s a minor one, only 5 point something) to major ones. It’s only Kalimantan (Indonesia’s part of Borneo aka my hometown) is the safest island in Indonesia, in term of earthquake vulnerability only. From Sumatera to Papua, all is shaking. Then sure another most common phenomenon, volcano eruption, again, it’s here and there (but Kalimantan). Indonesia has hundred volcanoes, some are the most active in the world, Mount Merapi for instance. Only these two? Nope…still a long list here, starting from flood, landslides, fire in the jungles, some armed conflicts, well you just name it. Just hopefully the eternal snow on Jayawijaya keeps quiet and sits still. I just can’t imagine if the mount is erupted and melting the eternal snow…it must be horrifying.

So, what unites Indonesia? Not the language, not the culture, but its proneness to disasters.

Together because We are Not Together

2007-02-05T12:57:00.000+07:00

I have received a new testimony from a friend “always being there for each other, but never together”. That testimony makes me smile, indeed he makes me smile all the time. What he says makes me think about how true it is, sometimes we can be so close to someone without being physically close. So, there is no personal attachment, no too much demands from both parties and so on.

A few while later, I told my dearly someone that I missed him badly, he said that he missed me too. However when I told him that I wish I could be with him more, he said that it might be bad for us. I don’t know, maybe it’s true, maybe we’ll get bored to each other easily and wish to return to our previous lifestyle. Or maybe some relationships work well because there is distance between the parties, so they can long to each other.

I recall my first puppy love memories when I was 11. I had a crush to my senior, I was blushing when he looked at me. I barely could speak a word when his buddies mocked us. I kept that feeling for 6 years, even after I moved to different place (holly crap…). There wasn’t any fight, just sweet platonic love. All was perfect, I could imagine him the way I wanted. It was such a wonderful dream (just don’t expect me doing the same thing anymore, I’m not that naive now ^_^), indeed it might be perfect because it’s only in my mind. If my family didn’t move to a different place, I might have a different story about him.

The way an Adam told me how he enjoyed spending time with an Eve and treasures all memories. Then he decided to leave that Eve to avoid horrible memories in the future. He wanted to keep his memories with that Eve and didn’t want to challenge them. He said he wanted to keep smiling when he remembers her. Poor Eve, she didn’t know what to say when it happened and let him walked away. I hope she will by chance read this, then smile with her lovely smile and thanks God for letting him go. So she could keep her wonderful memories with her Adam.

A geek told me that life will find the way, and I said love will find a way. What about love life? Sucks as usual, especially when someone you love tells you that he doesn’t have any love life.

Banjir

2007-02-05T12:55:00.000+07:00

For the last few days I have received enormous sms and emails asking the same things. “Are you and your family fine?”, “Do you have sufficient water and food?” and “Don’t go out!”. So today I decided to send an email to many friends and relatives telling them that we’re fine, even though I cannot go to my mum’s place. The roads are blocked.

I am pretty lucky living in Menteng, an old fancy neighbourhood near by former President’s residence and presidential palace. Somehow it is amazing to see how this neighbourhood for centuries is saved from flood while Jakarta has been prone to flood since 17^th century. This neighbourhood used to be fancy Dutch neighbourhood, so the Dutch built excellent drainage in this area.

It is also amazing to realize how I still can enjoy my comfy bed hugging my goofy while hundred thousand people are homeless and awaiting to be evacuated. The way how amazing it is that I can chat (the internet connection at my place just works again) with my friends from different part of the earth while 60% of electricity supply has been cut to avoid further harm. My geek says that Menteng must be the safest place to live, Indonesia’s former king, who’s pretty old now (I don’t need to be politically correct for him), must be afraid of the darkness, and it won’t be cool if there is power cut in Istana Kepresidenan.

While hundred thousand people flee for their houses, a friend replied my sms when I asked whether or not she’s fine. She told me that she just baked brownies with 3 layers of strawberry filling, she dipped those strawberries in vodka and sugar, must be yummy. Another friend replied me that he was having roasted New Zealand lamb. While my brothers and sisters are busy cleaning up their houses, some other brothers and sisters are busy with their convenient lives.

Still, for how long this safe heaven is safe? There are times when all is nothing and nothing is all.

Reflection

2007-02-01T14:41:00.000+07:00

I look at a mirror

I see my reflection

A girl smiles at me when I smile to the mirror

Tells me I am beautiful

I walk away

I laugh and cry

I forgive and ask to be forgiven

I look at a mirror

I see my reflection

A girl smiles at me when I smile to the mirror

Tells me I am beautiful

I walk away

I laugh and cry

I forgive and ask to be forgiven

I look at a mirror

I see my reflection

A girl smiles vaguely

Tells me she is sad

I walk away

I laugh and cry

I try to forgive

I look at a mirror

I see my reflection

A girl stares at me

She wants to cry

She is sad

I walk away

I laugh and cry

I try to forgive you

I look at a mirror

I see my reflection

A girl cries

Tells me to forgive myself

for not forgiving you

When It Fades Away

2007-02-01T13:31:00.000+07:00

Last Valentine’s Day someone sent me a giant bouquet of white roses and lilies from no where. I was excited when I saw it. I carried it proudly…”Dudes…you can’t beat my man” “Girls, you have smaller ones, look at mine…it’s gigantic”. I recall how people dropped their jaws when they saw my bouquet, some asked where I got it from and I proudly said it’s from my man. From campus I brought it to my apartment, I enjoyed every single moment. I enjoyed the shock of my classmates when they saw that gigantic bouquet (I even told him that it’s a gigantic, and I barely could carry it).

I put my giant bouquet on a table and admired it before slept. Time went by. The roses faded and I had to throw it away. It broke my heart when I had to put it in garbage as if it’s useless. Once, it was beautiful, but then it’s nothing more than garbage.

It happened again on my birthday. The same person from no where sent me a smaller version. He sent me a bouquet of red roses, and until now, I think it is the most beautiful bouquet. It reflects me. It’s a simple bouquet, 18 big red roses, some small wild flowers and leaves, wrapped in green (ok…it’s not that simple, but compared to other bouquets he sent, it’s the simplest one…sure compared to 3 dozens of roses it’s a small one). From Unesco office in Thong Lo, I brought it back to Salaya. I enjoyed how people stared at me in sky train and bus. I put it on a table and enjoyed it every time I was at home. Then the time had come for me to see the roses fade.

Roses are beautiful, they bring happiness (at least for me). But then they fade and become garbage. Sometimes it is not easy to let a beautiful thing go. We want to keep it and never let it go, but everything changes. The only thing remains the same is change itself. Why is it difficult to see someone changes? I do change, you do change, s-he changes, it does too.

In real world, my mum has shown me how beauties turn to become garbage and still are useful. She had a garden in our house. She produced organic fertilizer and pesticide from garbage and pet’s poo or pee (well cows and goats were considered as pets in my family). We enjoyed the most delicious and sweet mangoes, blossoms of flowers, star fruits, bananas, coconuts, rose apples, guavas, chicken, fishes and so on from her garden. All were organic and healthy, and thank to the garbage.

Rose is rose, it just has different form, as a wise friend says.

Completed

2007-02-01T13:20:00.000+07:00

If most relationships fail (see Ron’s comment on my blog “If Only I Have the Courage to be With You http://evie_sumardjono.blogs.friendster.com/my_blog/2007/01/if_only_i_have_.html#comments), then why we are so eager to be with someone? If most relationships don’t work well, why we are sad when we say goodbye?

Is it our nature to be with someone? Or is it because we are constructed to be with someone? I cannot say that the reason why we want to be with someone is because of sexual intimacy or sexual orgasms. Making love is more than sexual orgasms, I think it’s more about expressing the affection. Some might agree with me, some might not, and it’s normal (I don’t even know what normality is actually). I myself reach orgasms through meditation, sure it’s a different kind of orgasms, but pretty lovely too. It’s even more intense, no attachment with someone, more about knowing ourselves and bodies, it’s not even about wanking. Hell, I don’t know how to describe it.

A wise friend says that we should complete ourselves before being attached to someone else. When we are completed, we know our here and now (it’s like Frankl’s therapy no? Here and now…existentialism), then we don’t bother with what others do to us. If you love me, I smile. If you hate me, I smile too. I love you no matter what you do to me. When you treat me well, I would thank and take it as a learning process. When you treat me badly, I would thank and take it as a learning process too. Good and bad is only in our mind.

But, what is self completed? Does it require attractive physical appearance, smart brain, angelic smiles, bunch of love for others, good job, fine life style, love for self and so on? When I complete myself and not attach to someone, will it make me live in my own sanctuary and hide behind my comfort zone? Will I not cry when someone leaves me? I don’t know.

My mum tells me that in the end, we all will be alone. Be prepared for separation, she says. She herself spent 3 decades with my dad, until he departed. Mum says that he’s her soul-mate. It may be true, but still she’s alone now, not lonely tho. The death will depart some of us, and it’s more difficult than divorce (at least some friends say). We can avoid divorce or other human caused separation (even tho sometimes separation is a wise choice), but not the death.

If we are meant to be alone, why we need to be with someone?

If Only I Have the Courage to be with You

2007-01-31T10:37:00.000+07:00

I watched two movies this week, one is A Good Year and another one is Shadows in the Sun.

A Good Year is played by Russel Crowe, a cold cruel smart banker (just don’t replace the b part in banker with a w) in London, however I think Mr. Crowe is more like a dummy instead of a smart bastard (will you forgive my word, please). His uncle departs and leaves him his vineyard in France, so he goes to France and arranges to sell it. Then a woman comes and acclaims that she’s his uncle’s daughter (no…she doesn’t want that vineyard, she only wants to know her daddy). At that place too, Russel Crowe (since I cannot recall his role), meets a beautiful cold woman and he falls in love to her. This woman actually doesn’t want to get involve to any relationship, her husband hurts her badly, and makes her avoid men. For her, a night with Russel Crowe is just another one night stand without any future, so she will not be brokenhearted. Then miracle comes, Crowe writes a letter as if it is written by his uncle showing that he has a daughter, and it means Crowe gives the vineyard to his ‘cousin’ (she’s a woman, sure she finds it out later), even more, Crowe leaves London and moves to Provence to be with the woman he loves. Happy ending.

The other movie, Shadows in The Sun, is played by some actors I don’t know. It’s quiet funny for me, and I like the Catholic father in this movie. This movie is about an editor who is sent down to Italy from (again) London to persuade a great writer who is blocked and hiding from the world. This great writer stops writing after his wife passed away and he scares to write. He just scares of failures. After some troubles, the editor can get along with the writer and awakes the writer to start writing again. Where is the romance part? Sure…it’s about the editor and the writer’s daughter. The writer’s daughter wants to have a wonderful memory with that editor, so she sleeps with him once. She thinks it will be fine, she knows that the editor one day has to return to London. Indeed, he returns to London. On a train, the editor meets an old woman with a bird, she asks him to fly when they see the writer’s daughter catches him up mounts on a stallion, followed by another stallion. Then the editor pulls emergency break (so…unreal, don’t do this, you will be fined in real world), departs from train and jumps on stallion. They kiss and live happily ever after.

The same thing here is that both men leave their “lives” (London in this case), works, and so on, and move to another place to be with someone they love. I just can’t understand it. In real world, how many percentages of men (and women...and something in between) are willing to do this? Leave their works, houses, lives, friends, comfort zones to be with someone is absolutely not a small decision. I don’t know what I would do if I were in this position. Will I leave my comfort zone? Will I leave my nest, work, life, friend, family behind to be with someone? Is he that worthy? What if he will hurt me? What if he doesn’t want it? What if he doesn’t love me as much as I do? What if I will get bored? What if I don’t get a good job there? What will I do then? I may not dare to leave my comfort zone, the way I don’t dare to ask him to sacrifice his life. Maybe I just simply am a selfish girl, or maybe it just shows how cowardice I am.

Maybe I have to many “what ifs” in my mind. Or maybe romance is only on movie, not in real life.

Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus….and We Live on Earth

2007-01-31T10:30:00.000+07:00

How to show your affection? That is my question to my friend this morning. I told her that sometimes I am confused. Does he care about me? If yes, then why he misses me only when he’s free. Why he doesn’t text me abundantly. Why he doesn’t ring me as often as before. Does he not care about me? If yes, then why he remembers me everywhere he goes. What about those t shirts and shawl? What about some other small things he does to me, makes sure that I go to gym for instance.

My friend told me that men and women have different ways to express feelings. Most men are less romantic, they are romantic when they approach women. When they get what they want, gradually they become less and lesser romantic. “I care about you, you care about me, then that’s it”. No thousands emails telling their women how deep the feeling is.

Well maybe it’s true that men are from Mars, and women are from Venus. But, hey…we live on Earth now…lets communicate in earthly language. I understand you are busy, and I don’t demand you to reply my sms every single moment. The way I wish you understand when I miss you and want to express it. Just because a man doesn’t reply every sms you send, doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. Moreover it’s too much if every single moment we keep sending sms…

Pekerjaan Paling Bahaya

2007-01-30T13:47:00.000+07:00

Waktu aku kecil dulu nenekku suka cerita tentang kakeknya dia yang perang melawan Belanda, naik kuda dan mati dalam perang. Gagah berani, tapi kalah.

Lalu waktu SD aku dicekoki cerita tentang kegagahan pahlawan Indonesia perang melawan Belanda, Jepang, Sekutu (ok...tambah Portugis, Spanyol, Perancis dan Inggris sebentar)...aku pikir hebat sekali para pahlawan itu. Mereka berani mati untuk memperjuangkan tanah air.

Dulu kalau lihat tentara, apalagi yang mau perang, wah...kayanya berani mati sekali mereka. Hebat...(jangan ditanya kalau sekarang ya...)

Tapi kupikir-pikir, saat ini pekerjaan yang paling berbahaya adalah penyembelih ayam. Pekerjaan yang tadinya dianggap remeh temeh, eh di suatu masa dan di suatu tempat menjadi sangat berbahaya, karena ada pandemik flu burung. Bayangkan kalau tidak ada lagi tukang sembelih ayam, wah bisa-bisa kita nggak akan bisa makan sate ayam, KFC dan ganknya akan kukut.

Berarti pahlawan juga ya tukang sembelih ayam itu.

I Miss You Too, When I Am Not Occupied

2007-01-29T13:11:00.000+07:00

Time to time I miss you
There are times when I miss you a bit
There are times when I miss you more
There are times when I miss you badly
But time to time I miss you

Time to time I long for you
Time to time I wish you are here with me
And time to time I know you are standing beside me
Yes, but it's only when you are free

Time to time I miss you, when I am not occupied

Me as An Extremist

2007-01-26T13:18:00.000+07:00

One day my sister and I were invited to attend a family gathering to recite the Quran, my sister and I wore headscarves. On our way back home, we went to a shop and bought some stuff. Before us there were a couple of foreigners who stared at us disgusted, they talked to each other about us. “They must be extremists…yes…extremists…bla bla bla bla”,

Unfortunately these foreigners didn’t know that these two extremists understood well what they were talking about, they didn’t even bother to lower their voices when they were gossiping about us. My sister, the nice sweet polite girl in the family just grinned and stared at them politely. But not the bigger little rascal one, I stared at them, smiled and spoke clearly but cheerily,” Hell yeah we’re extremists so you should beware of us. Now get out off my face. Next time, be sure that your gossiping target doesn’t understand what you say.” My sister burst her laughter when she saw me dropped their jaws. Oops…..honestly I laughed out loud too watching how surprised they were.

Damned prejudice, so what if I want to wear headscarf? So what if I want to wear tank top? God, I wish those two foreigners by chance found my blog and read this one.

Lesson learned:

Prejudice does nothing good, but makes us shallow.
When we are not in our ‘place’ seek information about the culture before we blab out and produce nothing but shits.
Make sure when you are gossiping nastily about someone and it’s nothing to do with her/his personal capacity and merely based on your prejudice, s/he doesn’t understand what you say.
I should have behaved more appropriately instead of being impulsive ^_^

Isn’t simple life the best one?

2007-01-26T13:15:00.000+07:00

Sure what is considered as simple is different from one to another. I had a ‘simple’ home cooking dinner, chicken, broccoli and mashed potato, plus white wine, chocolate, coffee, tea, ice cream and cocktails. However, both my friend and I agreed that it was a simple one and delightful. Sure for some other people would agree that it’s a simple one, but for some others would say it’s not that simple. There are millions people starving on earth, and they wander around with their massive bellies and extremely skinny figures (do you think anorexics would be jealous with them?), while my friend and I enjoyed our fine dinner.

I was toying with an idea about simple life. An office girl in office says that I am modest (read: I don’t wear jewelleries), so I considerably have a simple life (again the standard of simplicity is relative). Sometimes I think simple people are happier and richer than the rich. Look at my housekeeper for instance, he just got married, his wife is expecting a baby and they enjoy their lives. I bet he never thinks about how bloody silly the fiscal tax in Indonesia is when one wants to go abroad. He doesn’t have to think about bloody expensive phone bill I have every single month. The most important is he doesn’t bother with credit card bills.

On the contrary, even within this January, I have met 3 persons who got into trouble because of credit card using. They are suffocated to death (ok…exaggerating) because of the bills. These persons are well educated and have good jobs (one is even a very fine job). I don’t see why a person could have more than 2 credit cards, it’s useless. One out of these 3 persons, who has an OK job, even has 4 or 5 cards, and each card has given him credit limit about 8 times his monthly earning. Holy cow….isn’t it amazing, with 4 credit cards he could have credit limit around 32 times higher than his monthly earning. No wonder we tend to be pampered and reckless spending our money. It would take almost 3 years for him to pay it back to the bank. Worse, he becomes frustrated and annoys others, he needs some financial support to pay his bills. Hey…you’re the one who spends your money (or credit?) unwisely, I don’t even know what you have bought with it. Why should I lend you some money? No…no…no…I am not that nasty….I have learned to say something nasty with smile and makes it softer (well…haven’t done it well yet so far).

The question is simple…is it really effective, efficient and useful helping this kind of person? Or is it just makes it worse since then we (or I?) create faux security? If, one helps these persons to pay their bills this month, do you think they can handle it next month? Or they simply will ask you for more assistance? Then for how long one can pay others’ bills? It might end up like what I have faced yesterday, someone asked me to clear off his bills then he would pay me back little by little (sure without interest, it’s prohibited in Islam and I’m not interested either). Or like what I have faced today, another person out of these 3, asked me if I cannot assist him this month…what about on February? What about on March? Yes…and what about on April, May, June, July, and so and so. Indeed, they keep on shopping.

Cash for Work

2007-01-26T13:09:00.000+07:00

I personally think that cash for work programme is crap. Cash for work programme is a generous and honourable programme actually, just not well designed. It is a programme where villagers/the poor/survivors/IDPs (Internally displaced person) are organized to work for their own good and being paid.

In Aceh after the tsunami there were many organizations ran this programme. These organizations from no where came to Aceh for some respectable reasons (I don’t even mention about some honourable persons who actually try to make money by working at that area) to help tsunami survivors. They saw how badly the disaster struck the place and how the people lost their belongings. So they asked the survivors to clear off the road and houses (their own houses), rebuild bridges and other similar things, and they paid these survivors. Sure it was fine, since it became an income source for the survivors, but then, the survivors became less responsible to their environment. Before the tsunami and cash for work was known in Aceh, the Acehnese helped each others. So when one’s roof is leaking, others will help to fix it up for nothing in return. They built bridges and other infrastructures collectively, but then they simply don’t do this anymore. They do something when they are paid. Sure not all survivors, some who were aware of this social change raised an issue for abolishing this programme.

The second weakness of cash for work programme is that these humanitarian organizations that came from no where to another no where place didn’t assess the local standard. They paid survivors about twice than the local standard. Sure, one can say that it is a good one, they can have a better life with that income. But is it true? Then local business got trouble with this new fee standard, local entrepreneurs cannot afford the new standard anymore, simply because it’s rocketing. Then in a sudden consumerism mushrooms, some survivors (especially they who join international humanitarian organizations) in a sudden earn more than they did before, they started buying jewelleries, motorcycles, TV, fridges, even when there wasn’t electricity supply yet. Yet, that post disaster area has the highest inflation rate in Indonesia, everything becomes bloody expensive there.

(I argued my opinion on cash for work programme with a bloke who works for a donor agency that acts as ATM without bank)

Just because I disagree and criticize cash for work programme doesn’t mean I would be automatically aware of what I do. I can be pretty idiot and do exactly the same what these humanitarian organizations have done, sure in a much smaller scale. I have a housekeeper whom I often ask his helps doing many things. One day I asked him to collect some documents and send them to someone. I gave him 100.000 ($11) when he came to me and got the instruction before leaving, he thought that money should be given to the one whom he had to hand the documents over. After he did what I asked, he returned to me blankly because the man he gave the documents for didn’t mention anything about the money and left him right away after he got the documents. He asked me what that money was for. He looked at me blankly when I told him that it’s his fee for delivering the documents. Since I was busy I thanked and asked him to leave, he was still confused when he left me.

I just laughed (indeed I wasn’t fully aware what I could buy with that amount of money here in Jakarta, I was a new comer on that time, all I knew is that a glass of cocktail at the Dharmawangsa Hotel costs that much…yeah yeah bloody expensive one), I realized that I did the similar mistake, I used my standard, not his standard. After been working with grass roots for years, I found that giving much money in short period can be pretty bad for the communities. What we think as a good deed, can harm the social institution within the communities.

So… I better learn how to keep my mouth shut, think before I speak and act. For now, I would simply enjoy laughing at my foolishness.

Are You a Feminist?

2007-01-26T13:01:00.000+07:00

“Are you a feminist? I didn’t know that.”

“You weren’t aware before it?”

“When I saw you at the first time, you looked like a feminist, no doubt about it. But you don’t look like a feminist now.” (feminist in a dress for sure is different to a man in skirt…that’s how I mock previous “Queen” of Indonesia)

(How do feminists look???????)

“Evie are you an activist?”

“What is an activist? Who doesn’t do any activities?”

“No…an activist is someone who challenges the situation, tries to change policies.”

“Oh…no then, I am more into grass root things. Let politicians do whatever they want to do, they’re useless. So I am not an activist.”

(Honestly I don’t consider my self as an activist, firstly because at the moment I don’t work closely with the grass root, secondly because I haven’t done any thing yet, and the most important is I don’t even know what an activist is)

“You let the water running. It’s water shortage in the world now.”

“Not during rainy season…..Are you an environmentalist too?”

(Not sure with this, just because I become a member of GreenPeace doesn’t mean I automatically am an environmentalist. I don’t have any idea what environmentalists do, but some stay on trees to keep those trees to be cut off, and for sure I haven’t done this yet)

“Are you political?”

“Who isn’t? Every thing we do is political.”

“Hell yes, you are an activist but I didn’t know that you are this political.”

“Every single thing we do is political.”

“Even in personal life?”

“What about that running water and water shortage?”

(It’s pointless to persuade me that personal is not political)

“You make it worse, a feminist, activist, political and environmentalist.”

“I know, so you better say ‘Get out off here you Bitch!’”

“Yes I should open my window wide so I can throw you away anytime to the pool.”

(That’s what I call a fine dinner with excellent sense of humour)

Sex Workers and Psychologists

2007-01-25T15:05:00.000+07:00

What do sex workers and psychologists have in common? A lot. They both work to release tensions, well for sure sex workers do better than psychologists. Clients come to them with urge need, and both sex workers and psychologists become trash bins.

Then both make money from this sort of tension release activities.

Both smile and try hard to understand their clients. They listen, see and observe before showing their skills.

The difference is that psychologists have privilege to label their clients as deluded, frustrated and other negative labels, but not sex workers.

Just beware, the most important similarity between these two professionals is they will charge you when the time is over.

Political Correctness

2007-01-25T15:03:00.000+07:00

To be a feminist means that one should be aware of political correctness, at least for me myself. So I don’t say lady, but woman. I don’t call blind but eyesight challenged. I finish all meals on the table and don’t waste, because there are people who are starving. What a respectable person I am.

One day, I met a difable (from different ability, not disable) colleague who had been advocating friendly environment for this group. He’s eyesight challenged and extremely funny person. He told me,”Oh come on why you make it complicated. I am blind, just say that I’m blind. It’s shorter, better known, more understandable and easier.”

My friend who works as a sex worker says,” I am a prostitute, just say it. It’s ok. When you say sex worker it’s odd. What’s so different, what we do is just the same.”

There goes my political correctness.

Childhood Dreams

2007-01-25T14:53:00.000+07:00

I want to be a mother when I grow up one day. I want to be a mother because mummies can tell their kids what to do. My mum asks me to sleep when I want to watch TV, she asks me to wake up when I am still sleepy. Mummy cooks what she wants and asks me to eat whatever she cooks for us, no matter how much I hate those foods. Mummy asks me to study when I want to play with my friend. See, mummy is like a God, and she’s always right because she’s a mummy.

I want to be a parking attendant when I grow up one day. Parking attendants are cool. They don’t have to go to school every single day, my teacher told me so. He said that if we don’t go to school then we would become parking attendants one day. Those parking attendants must be lucky, they don’t have to wake up early and count how many apples Ani has today. Who cares how many apples Ani has today? She doesn’t share those apples with me. Moreover, parking attendants make money, even more than my dad. My dad only gets money once a month, but parking attendants get money every time. They just tell drivers how to park their vehicles and get money. I know they do make lots of money, more than my coins in my piggybank.

I decided to be a vet when I grow up. I love animals. My pets are my siblings, they are nicer than my sister. They never tease me like my sister does. I just don’t understand why those adults got crazy with our neighbour’s new baby born. It doesn’t play, and all it does is crying, peeing and pooing. Those adults must be crazy, what so fun about it? It’s furless unlike my kittens and puppies. It doesn’t walk while my kittens and puppies wander around the house. No doubt, baby pets are cuter than baby human, so I will be a vet.

Thanks mum for retelling me my childhood dream careers.

Contra Utopia

2007-01-25T14:52:00.000+07:00

Oxford dictionary explains utopia as an imaginary place or state in which everything is perfect. Thanks God, life in imperfect. When all is perfect then it would be soooo boring. No conflict anymore.

When all is happy and grateful to life, then mental health persons would be in trouble. What would happen to us when no one in the world is deluded anymore? What would happen if there is no single broken hearted person anymore? Oh please…don’t let it happen. Please be anxious, frustrated, depressed and deluded.

90 hours a week

2007-01-25T14:50:00.001+07:00

One evening I sat at our backyard with my mum. I asked her to recall every single school and private lesson classes I had had in my whole life. Mum started digging up her memories. “You were almost 3 on the first time you went to school formally. Then you had this…that…this…that….”

I giggled looking at her recalling those classes, maybe she just realized how bloody costly raised me up. Raising me up is even more expensive than my elder sister. My sister said no when our parents offered her this and that. She wanted to have more free time and hung out with her peers. What I got now? I have bunch of documents and memories how I struggled when I was a kid.

I woke up at 5.30 and got ready to school. I left home around 6.30 at the latest. I was at school 7-2, continued by some extracurricular activities at school, got ready for my traditional dancing lesson, then departed for my private class. All activities had done at 9 to 9.30, and got home around 10. I went to school alone, got back home alone, and I hadn’t got my menarche yet at that moment.

Holly crap what have I done?

Endless Journey

2007-01-25T14:38:00.000+07:00

One evening I was with an Adam. We talked about what we wanted in the future. I told him that I’d like to pursue higher education (I was working on my second grad on that moment). He told me that he wasn’t into academia world and all those theories (no no don’t get it wrong, he held his Master already and he’s one of the brightest person I’ve met in my life). He told me that he’s more into practical world. I told him that I loved school, that’s all. So it’s not really about those pieces of paper called diplomas. He listened to me and after a while he told me that he might want to return to school and get settled.

Few months after that evening, I was chatting with a professor friend of mine. He’s a nice bloke and loves school. He got his PhD when he was my age. I asked him how many years he had spent at school, and he said it’s about 27 years. I was 27 on that day, and I started counting how many years I had spent at school. Boom…I had spent 23.5 years in my life sitting at school (even though I cannot say I sat quietly). Then my friend and I looked at each other and realized how hilarious it was. We spent almost of our lives at school. We entered one school after another like crazy, as if there’s nothing else to do. I shouted at him,”And what we’ve got?” I asked him. My friend burst his laughter,”Well I got some pieces of paper that I don’t keep well.” replied him. Indeed I would get into trouble if I need to submit my documents, since I cannot recall where I keep them.

How It is to be Loved

2007-01-24T22:21:00.001+07:00

I walked into my flat a bit upset. I was tired, sleepless and felt manipulated by someone, worse I got lost on the way back home. I said hi to my flat keeper and flatmate, all I wanted to do is lying down in my bed and sleep.

I switched on AC and CD, then prepared my simple dinner and dug out yoghurt in grocery bag. I sat on the floor and folded my laundry. In a sudden I realized there was something in my flat. I saw a big package and I wondered who sent it to me.

I reached that package and looked at it clearly, when I saw my name on it I knew who sent it to me. It was my bestfriend, a looooong time bestfriend. We went to the same primary school long time ago. Well I know her handwriting well for sure. Then I looked at the sender’s name and address, yes, it was her.

I unwrapped that package with excitement. Oh my goodness, she sent me a box of instant noodle that only available in our hometown. She knows that I feel homesick sometime and miss the food, no wonder few days ago when I sent her an sms telling her that I missed her she told me that it wouldn’t be homesick soon. I was trembling with gratitude when I saw it.

Some of you might think that it’s silly sending a full box of instant noodle (contains 40 packages…she said on the phone that I could have it for a month ^_^), even sillier that I got overexcited with a box of instant noodle. In contrary I don’t look at it that way. I see how much she cares about me, her friend in the middle of nowhere, far away from her, and she needs nothing in return.

My friend’s from a well off family in our hometown, both she and her husband have fine jobs, so she doesn’t need money from me. She doesn’t need me to find her a job either. She doesn’t need anything from me. Yet, she cares about me. What is it but love? It’s unconditional love.

I rang and thanked her. She laughed when I told her that she surprised me. It’s not about how expensive the present is, but the effort to send it. She wrote down the addresses by herself, she did it to me, for nothing in return. I told her that she made me felt love. Yes, I know that I am loved, unconditionally.

Thank Lord for sending her to me.

Lha Dhalah Jebulnya Cen Kurang Sak Jemuah Tenan

2007-01-24T22:17:00.000+07:00

Suatu malam saat aku jaga malam…la namanya juga jaga malam ya pasti malam tha la ya…ada seseorang menelpon. Dia bilang dia lupa namanya konselornya siapa dan dia mau bicara dengan siapa aja, nggak penting buat dia ngulang crita dari awal lagi. Aku yo ho ah ho oh wae. Nah njuk si ibu itu cerita kalo dia sering digosipin sama orang di sekitarnya…dibilang ini lah…itu lah. Nah sebagai psikolog yang baru lulus, ceritanya mau mbanyol…mau bilang kalo cuma orang gila yang ribut sama orang gila. Lalu dengan gaya sok dewasa aku bilang ditelpon
"Ibu….waktu saya di rumah sakit jiwa…." Mak bendunduk si ibu motong omonganku….
"Mbak Evie juga dulu di rumah sakit jiwa? Rumah sakit jiwa mana? Saya di rumah sakit jiwa Rumah Oki." Si ibu dengan bahagianya cerita….walah….ya konselornya yang malah bingung arep ngomong opo….lha dalah disangka temen satu rumah sakit tiba'e. Apes….

****

Di saat yang lain….kalo kali ini jaga siang pas harpitnas aka hari kejepit nasional. Pas sabtu, jumate prei…lah aku ketiban sampur jogo setu. Mak bendunduk lagi ada referral dari DinSos ada korban kekerasan terhadap perempuan yang orangnya udah depresi berat. Diajak ngomong nggak mau dan hanya dia seribu bahasa.

Sebagai psikolog (yang lagi-lagi baru keluar RSJ) ceritanya praktek ilmu…ehhh lha kok tenin…mbake mau ngobrol sama mbak psikolog yang cantik (iki jarene dhe'e lo…aku yo ra nolak tho ya…). Instinkku pun berjalan iki mesti kurang sak jemuah…njuk aku ngubungin psikiater langganan yang bisa on call (hallo….halloo kalo ada yg butuh psikiater baik yang on call bisa hubungi saya). Ceritanya bikin janjian supaya si ibu psikiater yang baik hati bisa ketemu sama calon pasien barunya. Lha…baru ditinggal sak nyuk kok mbake udah nongkrong di teralis sambil ketawa ketiwi dan si mamak kepala rumah tangga kantor misuh-misuh…

"Mbak Evie….anakmu ki looooo….ngompol di karpet….ngangkatnya kan susah."
Yeee….mene ke tehe…emang ike yang ngompol?

Sesuai kesepakatan dengan ibu peri eh ibu psikiater, kami datang ke ruang prakteknya…tapi dia waktu itu lagi praktek non psikiatri deh kayanya…ya sutra deh. Nah si ibu peri yang rambutnya mulai memutih bilang…"Waaa kalau ini sudah delusi Mbak Evie…"

Wah…tempat penampungan kami nggak didesain untuk yang deluded je…terpaksalah kami kembalikan ke DinSos dengan alasan mereka bisa memasukkan si mbake tadi ke RSJ dengan Jaring Pengaman Sosial.

Pas di jalan di mobil aku duduk di belakang di sebelah dia…mbake nangis…njuk aku bilang sama bapak rumah tangga kami yang keren abis gitu deh…."Pak setel dangdut pak….yuk njoget yuk…" jadi deh orang 2 ngibing…nggak jelas sopo sing edan sing penting mbake nggak ngotot mau loncat keluar mobil…misi sukses membawa mbake kembali ke DinSos, dan bapak rumah tangga mendapat bonus…kecupan di pipinya dari si mbake…hehehehe bar iku wedi pak'e

****

Aku jalan sama Bang Ir nonton di bioskop Mataram deket rumah. Pas jalan pulang ada konco satu sekolah beda jurusan, dia jurusan pasien aku pura2 jurusan magang. Bang Ir walaupun dia juga ada embel-embel S.Psi di belakang namanya takut 1/3 hidup, pucet dia. Dan yang sini baru keluar dari RSJ juga gitu loh…serasa reuni deh…ngobrol sana sini…dia ngomong apa aku ngomong apa yo nggak jelas.

Forgiveness

2007-01-23T21:04:00.000+07:00

I cried when you left me. I cried when she treated me badly. I was angry when she took you out of my life. I was crazy when she distorted my life. I was disappointed when you betrayed me. Once I thought I would spend the rest of my life to be with you, and you wrecked my dream. You took and threw it away. How could you? Couldn’t you see that I was longing for you? How could you let her treat me like that? Where were you when she swore at me?

Time goes by. I found that anger is useless. Get angry but not sin. I paid all my debts to you and her in my previous life, and I thank God and you both for giving me chance to pay it off. I love you two with all my heart. I forgave for what you have done to me, and hope you forgive what I have done.

Now I am free. No, I will not seek you in my next life. I set you free. The way I beg for forgiveness for all in my previous and present lives.

A Sinner

2007-01-23T21:02:00.000+07:00

I am awake when I dream, I dream when awake. I am lost in nowhere but my reality. I use my standard ever since I think I am smart and wise. I disgrace they who are ugly, less fortunate, fool and awkward.

I judge they who think in a different way and have different opinion as stubborn and dumb. I do not let others to have their opinion. They simply are less brilliance as I am, who could they be better than me? They do not know what the Lord has spoken to people. They ignore the heavenly laws, therefore they are sinners. They are allowed to judge. I am a guardian of Heavenly laws. I am a blessed person so I have privilege to show the sinners how disgrace they are. I am allowed to punish and label, the way I am allowed to tell others what to do and how to think. It’s simply because I am a devoted believer of Heavenly laws.

Sigh…and I cry deep down…how many of us think this way? I look at the mirror and see a sinner. I cry for what I have done. I cry for how I disgrace and judge others. I am a sinner. I never meet the Heavenly Ruler, how could I acclaim that I am Her guardian of laws? And I cry for the tears dropped because of me.

When Insanity Seems Sane

2007-01-23T21:01:00.000+07:00

I saw a vivid image when I walked into that room, a room where I met some other young persons like me for the very first time. I knew I was there before. I knew I have experienced this before, but where and when? I didn’t know. It was vivid yet so vague.
I rode my bike across the street. I parked and locked it up, then I walked to my campus. I saw people, flowers and trees. I inhaled deeply and started walking, toyed with an idea whether or not it was real. Am I real? Are those things real? Or is it only in my mind?

I saw a man’s photograph. In a sudden I knew I would get close to him, I didn’t know why, it’s just the way it was. We got closer and closer until one day it was time to say goodbye. It was amazing to be with him, just like a dream. Or it might be only a dream. I don’t know.

I asked my consciousness and sought an answer why we had to say goodbye. But how could we say goodbye when we never say hi? He was mine, I was his, we were bounded yet we were boundless. There was love between us, yet there was nothing between us.

I Love You Time to Time

2007-01-23T20:54:00.000+07:00

Dear my loved one,

I await you here with all the love I have. I don’t know where you are, I don’t know who you are, I don’t know what you are. But I know we have been together time to time, ever since our first life long time ago. There had been problems between us in our previous lives, so we cannot meet yet in this present life. You have to heal yourself, the way I have to. But my soul is faithful to you.

I love you in 10000 years, I did, do and will love you, time to time. I never leave you behind, and keep waiting for you. I know there will be time to be together, either in this life, or next lives. We’ll be together once more time when the universe shows her way to us, when we both are ready to be together, when there is no fears and hatred between us. Come to me in my dream when it is time for us to be together. Take my hand and stay with me.

(Inspired by a friend who believes in love, God, and incarnations, it’s a great pleasure to know you big sis)

In the World of Nothingness

2007-01-23T13:48:00.000+07:00

I walk away leaving you. I do not want you to see me crying. I don’t cry, I don’t even bite my lower lip to stop my tears. No I don’t. My heart is broken, but I am happy. I am free as a bird, fly high up above. Nothing scares me anymore. Pain is meaningless yet enjoyable. Knowing that I suffer pain reminds me that suffering is part of human’s lives. My body is my prison. My anger, jealousy and hatred inhibit my unity with the Higher Force in this universe. There is no pain either happiness, all is equally meaningless and meaningful at the same time. All is relative, nothing is absolute anymore but the Ultimate one whom I kneel on to.

It is time for me to metamorphose, I enjoy sorrow the way I enjoy happiness. Through the sorrow I know what happiness is. Through the loneliness I feel love. Through hunger I know what full is.

Some would see me depressed, some would see me free. Who is the right one? Does one really care?

Harmony

2007-01-23T13:41:00.000+07:00

Harmony is when all lives in peace. All has foods on the table, clothes to eat and roof above heads. There’s no chaos anymore. All lives in peace. No one needs to challenge the current situation, all accepts the honourable social norms.

I saw a tribal life in Vanuatu show on Discovery Channel. They live in harmony, even when the men have better yam (women are not allowed to eat the first yam, it’s taboo for them. Yam and penis are alike for them, therefore it’s men’s privilege). Women get left over yams. Men go fishing and get big fishes, while women receive the smaller fishes that thrown by men. Sure women are not happy with that, but it’s taboo for them.

Some men want to have more than one wife, sure the women get upset. One woman chased after her husband with a stalk in her hand saying that she doesn’t allow her husband takes another woman. Still he continues his intention to get another wife. Another man says that he needs 3 wives, 1 to look after his children, 1 to stay at home and becomes a homemaker, and another one to gather food. I wonder what if he know once upon a time, a Chinese Emperor has thousands women around him.

But this tribe lives in harmony. Women do not question why they have left over yams and smaller fishes, why men are allowed to have more than 1 wife, but women only have 1 man. For sure men do not need to question their privilege. It’s taboo for this tribe to challenge the taboos, what if their ancestors do not bless them sufficient food in the future. It’s better to remain silent and take it for granted.

In Javanese culture, harmony is a significant aspect in social life. Long time ago, a leader (aka King) is seen as a son of God, therefore he cannot be wrong and questioned (I believe it is not only in Javanese culture, but also in other cultures, west, east, south and north). The wealthier a nation is, the more harmony a nation live in, the better leader they have.

In my country, once we have a ‘King’ too, he loves Javanese culture and is well known that he’s fond of Semar. Semar is kind of incarnation of Bathara Guru, he tries hard to be like Semar. He wants his folks live in harmony, his words are law, and we all have to obey this respectable man. If he kills a person, then it must be with reason, to maintain the harmony. No one may question what harmony, is who gets the advantages, is it for the sake of the people or mostly for people around him. Since I don’t have any evidences, I cannot name his name.

Ironically I admire my former “King” as a genius man who knows exactly how to brainwash 200M people in such a long time (you can lie to a person for ever, but you cannot lie to many people for a long time), who can cover up all he has done and makes all sins looked merits, who can leave no traces unlike Hitler, Nero and Polpot. But sorry sir, I am not your follower. I prefer to challenge the harmony.

Unbeauty Standard

2007-01-22T11:25:00.001+07:00

The beauty standard and unbeauty standard are equally horrible. One day I had a discussion with a male friend. We talked about some social issues and I pointed out my feminist ideas clearly. He was surprised and saying,”You sounded like a feminist.”

I told my friend that I was a feminist. He dropped his jaw and said no way. He never met any feminist in skirt with rose lipstick, so how could he have thought there would be feminists in long cloth?

“I am a feminist so I can represent myself the way I am without any boundaries. I can wear trousers and skirts the way I want. Just because I am a feminist doesn’t mean I am not allowed to be pretty and applying lipstick on my lips. It’s just I don’t do it for you, men, but for me myself.” I smiled at my male friend who looked at me blankly.

Thanks, but I Don’t Need Those Whitening Products

2007-01-22T11:15:00.000+07:00

One day I went out with my nice Thai friend. She took me to a Big C in Puthamonthon. It was my first time going to a supermarket in Thailand. I saw a nice booth, it was a Thai brand cosmetic booth. My friend took me there, she told me that they had nice products in that booth. Like a little girl I followed her.

In that booth I bought some cleansing milk and moisturizer, I haven’t become a loyal costumer of Clinique yet at that time. In a sudden my dear friend stared at me. She suggested me another product that she thought would be better for me. So I asked her what made that product better than my choice (indeed she knows all about cosmetic). My friend told me that my skin was too dark so I needed some whitening products for my skin. “Evie, your skin is too dark so it doesn’t look pretty.” she said.

“Ugh…yes. But I am Indonesian, sure I have brown skin. So?” I replied her in confusion. I didn’t know what she was talking about. I reminded her that I was an Indonesian (well still am for sure), so no matter what I would have dark skin. It’s brownie and so what’s the problem?

“But you can have fairer skin and you can be prettier.” my friend insisted. “We have the products, and you have opportunities to have lighter skin. You can try.”

“Well, the thing is I don’t want it. I don’t need it. I am Indonesian. I am Asian. No matter what I would have this brownie skin and I don’t see any problems with it. Moreover there is no way for me applying those products containing mercury on my skin.” I told her stubbornly.

My friend looked at me and got upset.

Even after more than 2 years I still don’t understand her point.

Few weeks after the above shopping, I wanted to have a pair of jeans. My friend (yes the same friend) looked at me. She told me that I was overweight.

“I think you are too big. You are overweight. You should have watched your diet.” my dear friend told me.

I looked at her blankly, indeed I was 10 kilograms lighter than now. “Ugh…thank you, but I am fine with what I am.” I replied her (again) stubbornly.

“Evie, you don’t walk like a lady.” my friend warned me (yeah still the same friend). “You should walk like this.” Then my friend taught me how to walk like a lady. I have to admit she walked in a feminine way. “This is how you should sit. You wear skirt more often so you should sit like this.” Then again my dear friend showed me how to sit like a lady. “You laugh so loud like a horse. A woman doesn’t laugh like that.”

(Pssst but then…she copied my horse-like laughter ^_^)

Can’t a woman be the way she is? Do I have to follow all mainstream ideas on what beauty is? Can’t I be beauty if I do not fit to all these beauty standards? Well…I know that my skin is too dark for mainstream standards (especially when I am in Thailand where girls prefer to have lighter skintone). I am too big with big bums too, even an Adam calls me Bum sometime without relying that his bums are big too (again especially when I am in Thailand where girls are skinny). I know that I have messy wavy hair instead of straight hair. I don’t walk, sit and laugh the way women are expected…so unladylike. So????

Who creates this beauty standard? If I were in Papua then my value is low since I am too skinny and my hair is not curly. The Papuans prefer big girls with curly hair. Hell yeah, these chickadees will get many pigs as dowry. Poor me, I don’t fit in any beauty standard, perhaps I should deconstruct this beauty standard. I would say that pretty chicks are they who can laugh out loud and kick someone’s arse. That would be cool, no?

Why don’t we look at this beauty standard deeper? Ok…lighter skin tone for instance, who would get the advantages? Sure the producers. They produce the products and create the market to make money, big money to be precised. Skinny figure, who would get the advantages? Sure (again) it’s the producers. In this patriarchal society we have certain beauty image, skinny, big boobs, long straight hair, fair skin and so on and so on. How many women take risks to get bigger boobs by having plastic surgery? How many women have eating disorders (sorry can’t say eating problems here even though I know it’s more politically correct) to get skinny figure? How many women get skin cancer because of the mercury that they have applied on their skin? Thanks to these capitalists.

Oh well, after living in Thailand for couple of years I know that there are two things that I want to have if I were rich and have lots of money. The first one is cosmetic manufacture and the second one is chilli farm. I would make lots of money from these two businesses.

Don’t be Afraid to be Hurt or You Would Never Move Forward

2007-01-14T12:59:00.000+07:00

“He rings me every single day, sometimes more than three times a day. He tells me that he misses me and wants to see me.” she said to me with her big smile. Her eyes were bright like stars in the night sky. She inhaled quietly,”He’s a wonderful person. I owe him a lot, and he protects me as if I were his precious treasure. When he proposed me, I knew that I would spend the rest of my life with him, only with him. No other men.”

“He kisses my eyes to wake me up in the morning. He kisses my forehead and lips before he leaves home, then tells me to take care of the kids and myself. He reminds me that he will always be loyal to me. Sure, he does not always be faithful, but he places me on the top. He always prioritizes me. He always comes back to me no matter what he has done. He soothes my pain. He shows me that I can trust him no matter what. He’s my guardian angel, friend, lover and teacher at the same time. You know he’s 12 years older than me.” she continued her story.

“Often before he goes back home from office, he rings me telling that he will bring something special. He brings champagne, wine, honey, grapes, beer, or sweets and puts them on our bed, so we can have them before or after make love. Well…you’re grown already to know this. He always asks whether or not I have reached the peak. He wants to make me happy. He wipes me when I am sweating after making love. He whispers on my ears thanking me for a wonderful moment with me. He serves me drinks and sometimes he goes to kitchen and cook for me. You know he cooks well, don’t you pet? I love his cooking, even though it means I have lots stuff to clean up in the next morning. But I enjoy it. You know how messy it is when he leaves the kitchen, as if there has been a war,” she smiled.

“It happens until his last days. He tells me that he loves me, always. So no matter what others say, I know him better than them. I don’t want to remember his mistakes, I want to remember his love.” she continued her story.

“I think he knew he was about to die. He wants to make love with me. Sure I refused. I love him deeply, and I don’t want he has heart failure when I am riding him,” she said and we both laughed out loud.

“It would be horrible, and thank God it didn’t happen. I cannot imagine what to do if it happened.” I replied with my laughter.

Her eyes sparked brightly,”It’s always romantic to be with him. He kisses me passionately when I am angry with him, so I simply forget my anger and we make love. He treats me nicely since the first time we met until our last time to be together. That’s why I never think about finding someone else. I am happy with my man.”

I looked at her and asked,”Did you have any affairs?”. We have very close relationship, she knew that I wouldn’t judge no matter what her response is.

She simply smiled, “No. I never think I want it. I have him and it’s more than enough for me. He always tells me to preserve myself only for him. He reminds me that he trusts me without any doubts. Why should I challenge it? You haven’t met the one you want to live with yet, so you don’t know yet what it means to be trusted by someone you love.” she responded. “I never make love with anyone else. Only him. So for me, he’s the Adam in my life, the best one in my life, my world. He’s the best lover in the world. See, I have a point here. I don’t need to think about someone else when I make love with him, because he’s the ultimate lover for me. Poor you, no?” she teased me with her big grin.

“Well I don’t compare.” I responded her quickly and she stroked my head.

Her eyes stared at me,”When you were 8, he told me that you would have dark skin like his, and my smile. Apparently he’s right. He said that your sister has his face and my skin, so you should have his skin and my smile. You know I always be proud of you. Don’t be afraid to start a relationship with someone you care about. Marriage is a long journey. It’s a big commitment. Think about him and you as two identities who want to live together, not as one unity. Keep your identity, and let him does too. Respect each other, don’t see his wealth, ancestors and so on. Look at him as a person and follow your heart. Don’t be afraid to be hurt, or you would never move forward.”

“I love you ma…and I miss your man badly.” I sighed.
Deep down I thank God that I was born in this family.

The Man I Respect Most

2007-01-13T22:52:00.001+07:00

There is only 1 man (beside my dad) I respect deeply in this life. There is only 1 man in this life I fancy, not because he’s extremely gorgeous. Nor because his wealth. I respect him for what he has done for his parents, especially his late father.

The person that I respect is a simple person, but smart for sure. He returned to his hometown when he found that his dad was sick. For two years stayed awake until late night to change dad’s diapers. He threw away his dad’s poo and wiped him. He prepared his dad’s milk at night. He was with his dad until his dad’s last day.

Sure this man ain’t an angel. He was tired. He was angry because he had to do all the things by himself. He had to work and took care of his parents, both mum and dad. He’s a human, like you and me, but managed his time, energy and emotion well. So no matter what happened he stood still to protect his parents.

With a parent like mine, how could I not respect him deeply? How could I not fancy a man who changed his dad’s diapers and prepared milk every single night? How could I not see him wonderful? I am nothing compared to him. I didn’t do much for my late dad.

Geek, I envy you. You did all your best to your father, and I didn’t. You are an angel inside. It’s an honour to know you in person.

I Would (Not) Die for You

2007-01-13T22:37:00.000+07:00

Many of you have heard this I WOULD DIE FOR YOU. So, how many of you guys, believe that it shows how much one loves you? Well I don’t.

If, someone says that he would die for me, maybe I would stare at him blankly and leave him right away. How could he love me if he doesn’t love himself? If he dies for me, then will things become better? Well we don’t live in Harry Potter’s world for sure, where Harry’s mum, Lilly Potter, sacrificed her life to protect her only son. I, myself, wouldn’t die for someone I love, but struggle to survive.

My mum proofs her love to her daughters by her strength to survive. She had a fatal accident when she was young. She’s the first surviving brain surgery patient in Indonesia. The accident happened more than 3 decades ago. She was so weak and the prognosis was bad. She lost one hearing and an eyesight. She lost her memories and until now still has a platinum pen in her head. The docs predicted that she would live only for 6 months.

My dad was with my mum day and night, he proposed her when she was hospitalized. Papa showed his love to her by taking care of her, he fed her. He bought her wig and shawls to cover my mum’s baldhead. He cheered her up and told her that sheremained pretty with her baldhead. Mama told me, that’s how she knew that she wanted to survive. She had someone who loved her the way she was.

Then my parent got my sister after lots miseries happened in my mum’s life. The docs said that pregnancy and delivering a baby would be bad for my mum, but mama insisted that she would be fine. The first time mama saw her new born baby, she knew she would be fine. She refused to die to raise her daughter no matter what would happen. That’s exactly what she did. No matter how many times she had to see her docs, she never complained. Worse, there wasn’t fancy CT scan like we have nowadays. Mama says that CT scan during that time was PITA aka pain in the a**. It hurt her badly. She took drugs and changed her diet to survive. Mama only consumed vegetables, and when her condition was weaken she only consumed raw vegetables and milk. Mama refused to die to raise her only daughter. Mama only had one dream, to see her daughter to be independent.

Four years later, when mama was much stronger, she gave birth to her second daughter, me. All was fine during her second pregnancy. Again, she kept telling herself that all would be fine. She proofed that the docs’ prediction was wrong, she’s alive.

Unfortunately 5 years later mama’s health was decreasing. She carried my little brother, sadly it was miscarried. Mama needed blood transfusion and was hospitalized for months. Papa, my sister and I went to hospital every single day to see her, I didn’t know that (again) her docs said that her prognosis was bad. I didn’t realize that I was about losing my mummy. But no, she survived. Why? Because she wanted to survive. She wanted to raise her daughters. That’s all, nothing else.

On 1992 I accompanied mama to see her doc in RSCM Jakarta, well for a small girl sure it was only additional days off. Her doc, Dr. Padmanagara was glad to see her. He didn’t expect that my mum would reach the unexpected health condition. I recall mum was smiling and pointing out at me, “She and her sister is the reason why I don’t want to die.”

Few months ago, when I travel to Ambon, I sat on Baguala Beach alone. I realized that I would be alone in the world with my mum next to me. I rang mum telling her how much I loved and appreciated what she had done to me. Mama, again, told me that she wouldn’t die until she’s sure that my sister and I would be fine to be left. I couldn’t say a word.

Mama shows me that her love is the reason why she lives and survives. Her love to her daughters keeps her strong and refuses to die. She doesn’t want to leave her daughters before sure that we would be fine. So why should I buy when someone says he would die for me? Don’t die for me, but live for me.

(for K who reminds me how beautiful love is)

Depressive Love Letter

2007-01-12T10:19:00.001+07:00

I have fooled myself by keep memories of you lingering in my mind

You are an illusion, you are never real

Don’t wake me up and tell me that it’s not real

Let me dream in my eternal sleep, so I can be with you forever

Fly Fly Little Butterfly

2007-01-11T22:29:00.000+07:00

Boots keponakanku umur 3 tahun minggu depan. Dia sekolah di dekat rumah, 3 hari dalam seminggu. Boots anak cerdas, cuma nakalnya kadang minta ampun. He simply does what he wants to do.

Suatu hari di sekolah gurunya Bu Eka minta Boots untuk berhitung dan dia mulai berhitung…one two three four five…and stopped. Dia menolak meneruskan dan ngotot hanya akan berhitung dengan 1 tangan. Bu Eka minta dia mengulanginya, sebetulnya si guru minta dia berhitung satu dua tiga dalam bahasa Indonesia, and not in English. Unfortunately when she asked him to redo it, he did it in English again. He said that his friends did the counting in Bahasa already, so it should be in English then. Salah siapa? Well…salahkan kami semua, orang tua, nenek dan tantenya yang ajarkan dia bahasa campur-campur. Dia pikir setelah berhitung dengan bahasa Indonesia lalu diteruskan in English like he does at home.

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Masalah belum berhenti di sini. Suatu hari saat aku antar Boots ke sekolah sama neneknya, ibu guru Boots, Bu Eka, menunjukkan gambar kupu-kupu. “Ini gambar apa?” tanya Bu Eka ke Boots. He proudly answered out loud,” It’s a butterfly.” dan bengong lah si ibu guru. “Bukan Boots, ini gambar kupu-kupu.” kata Bu Eka.

“Bukan Ibu, this is a butterfly.” my nephew insisted.

“Tapi ini kupu-kupu.” eh si ibu guru tetep keukeuh juga.

“De…it’s a butterfly kan?” he looked at me confused. “Dora, it’s butterfly…butterfly…???” he asked his granny who couldn’t stop smiling.

So I simply smiled at him and told him that he’s right,”Yes dear, it’s a butterfly, pet. You got it right.”

Tertawalah si nenek,”Boots, kupu-kupu sama butterfly itu sama. Butterfly when you are at home speak in English with Ade, kupu-kupu di sekolah kalau ditanya Bu Eka.”

Dan bingunglah si kecil.

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“Sekarang waktu menggambar.” ajak Bu Eka ke murid pre-school-nya. “Ini warna apa anak-anak?”

“Purple…and this is red…this is yellow…” (surely) my nephew replied her and got busy with his crayon.

Tinggal Neneknya yang kemudian bingung menjelaskan, ”Bahasa Indonesia Boots…ungu…merah…kuning….”

Inner Beauty

2007-01-11T22:19:00.000+07:00

Does physical appearance matter? Is it that important? Can't we see and be seen beyond our physical appearance? Since I was small, my mum always tells that none of her daughter can lean on our physical beauty. Mama says that it won't last forever.

"None of my daughters is amazingly beautiful. So girls, you cannot make money and survive with your looks. Some girls might find wealthy men and marry them because of their beauty, but not you. Keep strong, study well and work hard. And, remember, a lady never takes any jewelleries but from her husband." mama says. Indeed I know that I cannot make money and survive with my look. I don't think I can be a model, indeed who wants to hire me as a model?
For years, I never bothered with my physical appearance. I never expected anyone would say,
"Eve, you're gorgeous." nor,"Eve, you're ugly." It's just nonsense.

Until one day on January 2000 when I dated a sweet bloke who was fancied by another girl. She's about 5 years older than me. She came to my place and told me how she was amazed why that bloke liked me more than her. "I am more beautiful and attractive than you are. I don't understand it." she said. I remained silence. Was I upset? Yes I was, but thank to my parent who raised me well and taught me how to respond shits like this one. I simply smiled.
My ex date's friend who knew this situation tried to cheer me up. He told me to be patient,"It's OK little sister. She's just jealous of you. But you also need to know that you have made a wrong decision. You should know that he (my date) likes pretty chicks, and you are not. People might say about inner beauty, but it's just a lie. It's only to cheer up ugly people like you."

I was shocked. I told my clicks about this, well they're gays. These lovely gays smiled at me. My transgender buddy said, "Hey girl, you're the only one who has boobs among us. Cheer up."
One gay friend took me to a mirror. He stood behind me and said," Now look at that mirror. Look at that reflection. How could you believe that stupid bullock? You may not be the most beautiful woman on earth, but you have your own beauty, heart and brain. We love you the way you are, pet."

Thank to my ex date's friend and lovely gay clicks, ever since that night I don't bother when someone says how unattractive I am. When someone compliments me, I say thanks. When someone says I am not pretty, I smile and thank too. I love myself and my life. My body is my temple. It's God's creation and I love it.

You, who are not happy with your physical appearance, believe me. There is inner beauty, just be true to your heart. Ignore some ignorant who cannot see how precious you are. Blessings.

How Brain Gym Can Help You to be Smarter

2007-01-10T22:51:00.000+07:00

My friend Mb Ummi is an interesting person. One day, when we ran out of ideas on what we should do with primary school students, she came with a brilliant idea. It was brain gym. We didn’t have any idea what it was, then she showed us a tabloid with an article on it to us. We were happy and agree to do that. Especially she mentioned that brain gym could enhance cognitive capacity of children, whereas four of us mostly had slowlearner students. We were excited and hoping that our students could be better and their IQ would be higher.

Then we told Bu Hapti about what we would do. She said that it would be ok. She smiled vaguely. When the brain gym was done (geez…never ever again do that…shout in front of hundreds of children in primary school telling them what to do…no way) we reported to Bu Hapti. She asked us,” Do you think your slowlearner students will be better after the brain gym?”

These excited girls answered at the same time,” Yes, hopefully.” We explained her why we did the brain gym, our students’ condition, the purpose of brain gym, how we did it, etc etc etc.

“Do you really believe after you teach them how to do that they would redo it again? And do you really believe that after brain gym session they would be smarter and not slowlearners anymore?” she smiled vaguely.

Then the girls burst laughter….even until now, we keep talking about it. How could we think those kids would be smarter by what so call brain gym?

Ssshhh it was called brain gym, but with body movement. So you don’t need your brain to work on it.

My Deep Appreciation Goes to Swiss Red Cross

2007-01-10T22:50:00.001+07:00

I was so scared when earthquakes hit Jogja on May 2006. I had lots friends and relatives there, and sure my previous little baby. All day I was busy tried to contact all I knew in Jogja and got nervous when I couldn’t contact some, including an extremely nice friend who took care of my little baby.

I was not only busy contacting people I knew in Jogja, but also replying sms and emails, answering phone from friends. They wanted to know whether or not all my family, relatives and friends were ok.

In the evening, I sent an email to my friends, telling them the situation in Jogja, what survivors needed (well they whom I could contact told me the needs of survivors) and how to deliver their donation, all my relatives and friends were fine, but I didn’t know about my little baby yet. I asked my friends’ prayers for her. Most friends, knew who she was and what she meant for me.

What I didn’t expect was, some friends forwarded my emails to some humanitarian organizations. One morning at office, I received an email from Swiss Red Cross. There were three points in their emails:

1. they were sorry for what happened in my hometown and hoping that all my family were fine

2. they informed me that they have sent their volunteers and aids to Jogja collaborated with Indonesian Red Cross (well…Red Cross is an excellent organization, and this Swiss one is just simply great)

3. their prayer for my little baby. They hoped she could survive and someone would take a good care of her.

I truly didn’t know what to do when I read that email. I was shocked. It touched me deeply. They didn’t know who I was, and sent me a personal email like that. At the same time, I couldn’t stop my laughter and wanted to tell them one minor detail. So I replied their email.

“Thank you for bla bla bla. It really touched me when you mentioned about my little baby, but I am sure she’s fine. After all she’s a big cat, and cats usually can survive. However she means a lot to me, thank you for your concern.”

No reply from them again. Well, I don’t know whether or not they have read that email. I wonder what they would say when they know baby is a cat.