March 30th 2010
I’m flying out of Adelaide. Up north to Cairns, where I will jump out of a boat and plunge to the Great Barrier Reef. Have you ever feel that God has given you a gift today because you’re sitting next to a cute guy on the plane/train/buss ?
Well I friggin haven’t. Today I’m sitting next to an old fart, yet again. He’s so restless that he’s been changing position every 2 second. Crossing arms, leaning left, leaning right, leaning forward, crouching, sitting straight. Changing activities every 10 seconds: reading, looking out the window, putting earplugs on, taking earplugs off, drinking one can of bourbon, drinking two cans of bourbon. I’m trying to read my ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ in peace, but couldn’t so I decided to turn my laptop on and write. About leaving.
When a friend asked me how do I feel about leaving Adelaide, I said ‘I don’t know. For all I know, at this moment I’m just excited for the diving .’ Apparently, I was in denial. Deep down I knew it’s gonna be a mix of feelings. And sad, will definitely be one. ‘Will be sad, but not yet” I thought.
A couple of weeks before the end, there was just this knot, somewhere between my ribcage and my stomach. I don’t know what it was. Today at the airport, the knot was let loose. Pao my Colombian travelmate and housemate made it to the airport to send me off. She got in at the terminal 15 minutes before I board. As we’re talking…I felt my eyes warm. She gave me a CD filled with dozens of Colombian songs. The cover is pictures from our silly trip to Perth (where we got lost and almost died). That and of course a goodbye letter. There and then beside my good friend Pao, with whom I had good and bad times with, the strange knot that has been inhabiting the space between my ribcage and my stomach since last week, let loose. I cried.
In these past 10 months, I have clumsily let new friends became close friends, I let strangers became partners and let scandals fill my heart. Quickly they settle in there, I don’t know how. Now that I’m leaving, that compartment that they’ve been filling…feels sore.
But I guess the heart is an amazing device. I should think that it expands, that there will always be room for more good friends, more love, more attachments. This amazing device also has a very good memory as it remembers who moved them. So I guess for my next travel, I’m planning to be as clumsy with my heart. Or more.
Nuclear Supporter
What have I become. I am now, pro nuclear, agnostic in marriage, well at least I’m still a strong believer of leftist capitalism. And abortion is still out of question. Obviously. For me, it only took less than two years. It’s either I’m plain gullible, or I’ve been holding on to a miss leading conventional wisdom.
Nuclear
In case you didn’t notice, Indonesia is in a chronic shortage of power. Why It seems that we have trouble finding fuel to power up the power plants. Oil is getting scarce (oil lifting is decreasing each year), importing them is expensive, and we have just enough reserve for 23 years. Gas is abundant now, but will be gone in 62 years. Coal is dirty and environmentalists scrutinize us for using too much of em, our coal will finish in 82 years. Reneweables (hydro, solar, wind) are suitable for small scale power generation. Renewable fuel from foodcrops? Scratch that, we don’t wanna be fighting over food with cattles AND cars AND power plants.
So what’s left? Nuke. Is it safe? Well, it can be. If you don’t steal the money to manage the hazardous waste (say, you make the containers thinner in order to pocket the cost discrepancy). Is it expensive? Well, go talk with Australia. They have 40% of world’s cheap Uranium. Are we ready in terms of technology and expertise? We are capable of learning. And learning fast. Let’s not be xenophobic and invite our fellow foreign engineers who’s had experience. To make you feel better, no they’re NOT smarter (we have the same brain capacity) they’re just a bit more experienced. And that doesn’t make us schtupid, or incapable (although we will be if we refuse to learn).
The M Word
Meet S, thirty-eight, originally from Jogja but has been living in Jakarta for 15 years, international trade lawyer-to-be, been abroad many times, 2 kids, recently divorced. Oh,also, ambitious and full of ideas and revelation. Like how I felt during the first months I’m here; full of ideas and revelation.
“Terlalu mengungkung” katanya tentang married life. “Sadly we live in a culture where wives are expected to compromise more than their husbands. I cant do that” She said. Do I agree with her statement? I reckon there’s some truth in that. Do I see it all the time? Well,no because my grandparents and my parents are relatively equal partners. In my nucleus family, I see a balanced relationship. But yes I have to admit the majority of the society perceives good wives as ‘obedient’ wives.
Do I see men belittling their wives? Yes (very recent as well). A common sin of Men, when they have a superior (whether really superior or only perceived as superior) they tend to carry this attitude that says “ah what do you know”. It happened right under my nose recently and I absefuckinlutely hated it. Made me sick. I do believe though that this doesn’t only happen in Indonesia. But, it might just happen…more often.
“Do you know that in Netherlands, you can get registered as a couple without being married and it’s legally binding and you’ll have the rights you’d have like if you get really married? But if you wanna separate, you can just take back your forms and not have to go to court?“. Well, to make things easier it’s like a registered,legal kumpul-kebo”. She thinks that, come to think of it, it’s quite a good idea. Because; what is the purpose of marriage? “Monogamy and a harmonious family yes? When you enter a marriage without knowing how living with your partner actually feels like, without knowing whether he snores, or whether he rummages through your text messages and your purse, you are kinda screwed”. She added that this law in Netherlands, allow you to do..like a feasibility study before you actually enters the marriage institution. And when you do a feasibility study, you have more knowledge on the subject, and you are more likely to make a better, well-informed decission. Plus, you’re more likely to commit to your decision. On some parts I agree to this (I’m gullible, fuck) but on some I don’t.
Isya, don’t settle down so soon ok?” she said to end the lunch chat. And I said “Well, settling down is not on my short term agenda anyway”.
Now I feel like all these things are turning me to an agnostic in marriage. But I’m not fully converted yet! There are still some best-case-practices that I can hold on to.
But I’m definitely getting there o ye people of my country, If I’m fully converted, I’ll hold you responsible.
Conscientious
Conscientious
Synonyms: meticulous, careful, upright (adjective). Governed by conscience. Or careful; a conscientious listener (Webster’s Dictionary)
Have you ever feel like they always ask you about things you don’t know? And when you do know, nobody’s asking you. Hence you feel schtupid, and when you do know the answer to a question you hesitate because you’re discouraged by the first question. I hate that. It makes me sick. Like I wanna vomit everytime that happens. (Holden mode ON).
Yesterday we had an important meeting, with AusAid’s Indonesia desk. They’re working on this study on trade, development and aid. Basically they’re trying to build a case for how trade can reduce poverty and what’s the role of aid in this whole shenanigans. The result of this study might be useful for Indonesia-Australia Free Trade Agreement negotiations.
SO I, being the only Indonesian, was put there to be the Indonesian face. Sitting on the table; my managers, Andy my American boss, this WTO guy, head of the school of economics, head of school of commerce, head of school of agriculture. Important guys. Was I nervous? Absefuckinlutely. Yes being the intern my job was to do the minute. But as I’m the only Indonesian, I had a weird hunch that they’re gonna ask my opinion about stuff. Which is awesome, IF I WASN’T TOO NERVOUS.
First I had to greet this AusAid guy. “Hi” he said. “You’re from Indonesia right?” “Yes, Nice to meet you” I replied. “I’m flying to Jakarta on Sunday to do fieldwork.” he said. “Oh that’s lovely” I said. “Yeah, I’m quite excited, I’m a Turkish but raised here..so I’m a muslim and yeah that’s gonna be exciting being in Indonesia”. Guess what my reply was? “Oh yeah! You’ll like it there. A lot of mosques and stuff”.
What the hell was that? I could’ve said “Oh wow, I’m muslim too are you looking for a wife?”. Haha, NOT. I could’ve replied “Oh lovely, one of the things I miss in Indonesia is the calling of the prayer amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. Something you don’t find here, so I hope you’ll enjoy that “. But no, I didnt say that beautiful answer.
So as the meeting began, and it heated up, I jotted away. Quite weird being in a room where they’re talking about your country. Good stuff, bad stuff. Some you agree, some you don’t (or don’t know :p). But exciting. This work helps me figure out the context to which information I acquire in college applies.
But anyway.. these academias hey, why do they like to complicate stuff by using big words and not making my job easier? For this I love so much the American colloquialism. Andy, the American, talks point-blank. With simple words that an average mate could understand. And he was the deputy general of WTO.
An hour later the formal meeting finished. But the AusAid guy wants to talk more with the WTO guy and me. Yes the Indonesian had to be there. He then asked me “so what do you think is the most significant barrier of blab la bla blah..of Indonesia that is unique to…blab la blah…yada yada…somthin somthin somthin”.
I was all; huh? What? Oh geesh what did he mean? Should I ask what he meant? Should I ask him to repeat the question? But would I look schtupid?
And then I decided (which now regretted) to answer away.. “Language” I said. (??)
“You’ll find that it will be a significant barrier. Especially when you’re working with government officials later.” “And infrastructure is definitely a problem. Power supply being the most urgent one. The blackouts recently. And technical knowledge on SPS, TBT, port management (this one I copy Andy’s answer. I knew SPS..but I didn’t know what TBT stands for at that time). For example A lot of Indonesian export commodities constantly get holding orders by Australian customs even those from big companies. And of course bureaucracy. These e-governance system is really slow in the making. How hard can they be if you hire an Indian or Australian to do it”.
And then they laughed. Shit..was it funny my whole answer or just the last one?. Ogh I hate meetings. I find that getting my idea across is difficult in Bahasa, let alone in English. OH bugger. I’m not good at live discussions. Can I just say that I’m mute and write my answers from now on. Or instead of live meeting I just do email correspondence.
There were other sophisticated, better thought of answers, in a systematical order and better vocabularies that I could have given him. Instead of blurting out stuff and constantly saying “stuff” and “yeah” and “you know”. Ah fuck it. I don’t even know if that’s what he was actually asking.
And then we talked about private sector engagement in FTA negotiations, he asked “so Isya, who do you think I should talk to regarding this issue?”. I answered (more guessing actually) “Hmm Kadin is good people to talk to” (what does that mean??? That they’re good human beings or what? Ay yay…broken English. Then he said “Well yeah, but they’re quite a conscientious bunch aren’t they?”
Conscience what?! who?? What does that word even mean???
I freeze for 2 seconds, and the best answer I could give him was… a nod with a meaningful smile.
Bugger. I hate meetings in general, and hate it even more when it’s in English. There goes my confidence (what with the short supply I have). I feel schtupid.
Reminded me of when we had a meeting with Australian Trade Minister Simon Crean. As we were sitting in the big table oh so formally, Andy told him that we’re working on this IAFTA study. Mr.Minister responded with “Oh yeah, Indonesia is spooked with ACFTA and India is stalling its FTA with us. SBY is suppose to come here next month but I don’t know what that’ll actually means or where he stands on the FTA”.
“Speaking of Indonesia, we have an Indonesian working with us here” Said Andy as he nodded towards my direction, which caused Mr.Minister to turned his head to the right, to the girl sitting three seats next to him (me obviously) and looked at that girl..giving an expression like he expct me to respond or say somthing to that..and guess what I did?
I raised my right hand, almost as high as my chest, nodded and bowed a bit at the same time (like the jappanese do), and I said…..”Hey” with a smile.
Friggin Hey. When people address him as “yes, Minister” or “no, Minister”.. or “Nice to meet you, minister”.
Crean, on the right
Oh Sindrom rakyat jelata kah ini? Am I being too hard on myself? I try to just laugh about these things.. but I can’t help feeling schtupid. But seriously,if there;s one thing I know for sure is that I need public speaking advice. And that I should stop making fun of seemingly schtupid answers they make in beauty pageants
Wheel Chair & Booze
I’m escaping the Adelaide heat. 41 degree celcius. And yes, because my unit doesn’t have AirCon the best I could do: run to Borders. Sit at Gloria Jeans and (plan to) do some work.
Now sitting in front of me is a crimpled lady in a wheel chair. I don’t dare to stare too long, but I noticed that she cant even lift her head. Hair all over her face, a cup of coffee capped with a straw tipped on the table. And away she sip from the table, occasionally taking the cookie she bought with one working hand. She is alone. Where’s her nurse? Does she have any relative?
Anyway, I don’t want to exploit or dramatize her misery. What I’m really keen to write about is…her wheelchair. Looking at it, it’s a pretty fancy one. A whole lot of wheels, automatic lever n stuff, backrest control. My best guess is, the government bought it for her. Or should I say, the taxpayer did.
Here in Australia, like in any other developed economies, the social benefit is pretty good. If you’re a disabled person, don’t worry…the government will take care of you. If you’re poor and decide to not work, if you’re an eldery, if you’re an indigenous, or even if you’re a crack addict. No worries. Hence most people I see here, who are unemployed/ poor, who have dissabilities (from minor to major), who are (just) old, who are indigenous, who are crack addicts, they dont have to struggle to earn money. Hence there’s no motivation to.. pursue a higher education to compete in the labor market, or…to acquire new skills (like painting with your foot or something), or…to quit drugs. Which, in my oppinion, is sad. It’s an easy life yes. But..doesnt feel right.
Remember when we learn Economics of Public Policy they say “Social benefit can be an incentive for not working”. I think, here, that is somewhat true. There is no need for them to work. The lady in front of me here can afford a 5.50 AUSD coffee and a 3 AUSD cookie. And that’s just her brunch. I know a girl here who applied for a dissability benefit just because she’s slightly injured her foot and now she limps a bot.
In Sweden, a friend of mine who lived there for a year said “In the year I Iived there, I only saw one poor guy. Who collects beer bottle and sell them for recycle. And he has a house. With central heating”. Here Aboriginals (we call them indigenous Australian, for being politically correct), just go to the nearest ANZ atm and take out the cash they get from the government (As I saw them during my travel to the Red Center). Which most of them use, for booze. Sounds familiar? Almost like people at home, in Papua. The crack addicts here get money, and are localized in one neighborhood. A pretty dodgy neighborhood that you don’t want to find yourself lost in.
I’m trying to point out that maybe there is something fundamentally wrong with social benefit in cash. In other words, just handing out money, can be dangerous.
But is it different back home? I mean, does it matter in what stage of development an economy is that a cash social benefit might be harmful? BLT, the IDR 300,000 benefit the government give away to the poorest population. Most of whom have to think hard of what they will eat three days from now (or even for tomorrow). And if one of their kids get sick, there you go…months of saving will be gone. In this stage, most likely the cash benefit will go to buying basic needs. Rice. School uniform for the kids. That is speaking from the experience of families I know, but have to check on this as well though, what most of BLT recipients do with the money).
So I think, when cash benefit is given to a population whose basic needs are still not met , it is highly likely that the money will be spent to meet basic needs. But when cash benefit is given to a population whose passed the point of fulfilling their basic needs, cash benefit is highly likely to go to Woolworth Liquor, or Thirsty camel.
Why is it so hard for those who decide for the country, to give a more sophisticated kind of social benefit. Less easy, but more effective.
Now, wouldn’t it be better for an indigenous Papua (or an indigenous Australian) to get a voucher for 9 years of free education in a good public school? That is if we really want them to be literate and have equal opportunity in the future.
As for the crack addicts…well…hmmm… that…requires further contemplation.
“I will Go Back, eventually”
“I will go back, not now..I want to though..go back..eventually.”
I’ve been hearing a lot of those from my friends here. Some are students, some graduates, some travelers, some trying to get citizenship.
“I’m just here for the money, it’s good living but it doesn’t give me that feeling..you know ” a friend said.
another said “I dont wanna raise my children here” (well, ditto on this one I should say)
I have a friend who got back from the States and said “I hate being back, euw Jakarta. Gw balik karna all my loved ones are here aja”. (this surprised me, or rather…saddened me)
Some just cant wait to go back home, they miss the food too much. They miss all the familiarities and just got sick of speaking in a different language every second.
What is it with our attachment with home?
(Ooor, what is it with Australia? :p)
I guess I’ll have plenty of time to figure that out.. will write as soon as I come with something good.
cheers
Maybe Ozzies Dont Speak English
Ozzies dont speak english, they speak Australian. Yes, “Australian”. Gw mulai lelah deh sama aksen ini. It’s not enjoyable like the Sco’is, Irish, Bri’ish..it’s really something else.
Tapi it’s pretty easy to learn, here’s what you’ll hafta do:
1. Ganti setiap kata ber-akhiran “ter” dengan “duh”
a. Water –> Woa-duh (ohya, dan exagerate the “a”)
b. Heater –> Hee-duh (dan lagi, exagerate the “ea”)
c. Later –> Lay-duh
2. Ganti semua bunyi “o” di akir kata dengan bunyi “oi”
a. No –> noi
b. So –> soi
Jika “o” tidak terletak di akir, ngg…sama juga sih.. contohnya:
a. No worries mate –> Noi woi-rees moit (eh kadang2 “a” juga bisa jadi “oi” deh)
3. Masukan bunyi “er” whenever convenient, di akiran kata yg berhuruf fokal (that’s aiueo), atau…yah yg mulut lo masih ngebuka lah.contoh:
a. A tough little fellow –> A tough liddle fell-er (oh ya, NEVER pronounce your “t”s if it’s in the middle of the word.
b. That pasta looks good –>That pas-ter looks good
c. So you’re from Asia?–> So you’re from Asier?
Ohya, if you’re a true blood Ozzie..talk really fast, dan selipkan chuckles stiap kalimat ke-dua (and that’s just to confuse lawan bicara lo).
Alridey! more of Ozzie Linguistic coming..whenever/
Do They Live on the Streets?
Not long after the 7.6 SR Earthquake in Padang, West of Sumatera..I met this girl while I was helping a friend of mine at his rug stall in the Sunday market. She’s a downright ozzie girl, nice and cheerful.. and this was our conversation:
Girl: “So whereabouts in Indonesia are you from?”
Me: “Jakarta”
Girl: “None of your family was hurt from that big earthquake I hope”
Me: “No, luckily no..I don’t have family in that city. That city was actually on a different Island.”
Girl: “And have you heard anything about what’s happening there? Like the progress and stuff”
Me: “Well last time I heard, they’re still trying to recover bodies from the ruin..and that they expect to find around 2000 victims”
Girl: “Oh, ok…that’s not good. So how are the people there before the earthquake? I mean… do they live on the street, or shacks and stuff?”
Hmmm…I was tempted to answer: “Yeap! they all lived on the streets, eat grass and asphalt. But the lucky ones get to live in trees”
French Fries Snob
On a Saturday evening, at a pub. A genuine pub in winter is always good: warm and smells…well, like a mixture of beer, people not showering, with a hint of damp carpet. To a UNO party I was invited. A table of 10 people playing, obviously, UNO card with a pint on the table. There was me –Indonesian- , a couple of Colombians, a Brit, South African, and some Aussies and a French guy whom I’ve never met before who was rather cute.
Before the mind-and motoric-challenging game began, we introduced ourselves to each other. “Where are you from?” They asked, “Indonesia” I said. The Aussies, being jolly mates, responded with “Oh, that’s close by”…or “Ah that’s nice, Which part?”. “Jakarta” I said.
Then came a sound from the French guy who sat opposite me, “Well I heard that people from Jakarta are bad people”
Perplexed, I stared but couldn’t respond. He might have seen my shocked face, so he continued with “Yeah, I went to Bali & Jogjakarta a couple of months ago, and people there say that Jakarta people are all criminals”
What the hell?? Well, I heard that you French people are just snobs. The snobbiest of snobs, you know…a whole nation of snobs.
That sentence had perfectly formed and arranged itself in my head, it had already travelled to my tongue, then my lips opened, lungs sucked in a bit of air (for extra power to make a point)..but then, a millisecond there sensibility kicked in saying “ok let’s be a better person and let’s just give this pale-face an education”
So instead I said “Well, if you think it’s true then that’s just sad. Indonesia is a really big archipelago. So it’s normal that you’d find different cultures within Indonesia. Like you went to Bali, where people are calm, beaches make them relaxed lot, and friendly. Jogjakarta, cultural city, people are sweet, smiles a lot, slow paced. In coastal cities, people are loud, harsh, but hilarious. Well Jakarta is Indonesia’s busiest city, coastal, hot, crazy traffic, so yeah we’re not as smiley or as relaxed. And yes, crimes in Bali may have been known to be committed by incomings from Java who could not find a decent work in the crowded Java, but they’re a fraction of all Javanese/Jakarta population thus cannot represent the whole lot. And then we continue playing UNO.
After games after games and games, 5 pints, and a whole lot of cheating attempts, we moved to another pub. Where the French guy made another remark, worthy to be posted on facebook’s “Asians tired of being asked stupid questions” group.
“So, what’s your real name?” he ask.
“Huh? Should this be not my real name?” I said.
And then he goes “You know, because you people usually have difficult names like ‘shing liao chu” and change it into something more practical”
So I go “Oh yeah, usually Chinese/ Koreans do that…not all Asians”.
I asked myself today, why do I get annoyed with these remarks?
Perhaps it’s like when Russians get asked “So, you’re a communist hey?
Or a Colombian gets asked “Do you sell drugs?”
A Muslim gets asked “Where at home do you keep your bombs?”
Pacific Islanders get asked “So, I heard people in the Pacifics are all fat, you know…obese and all”
A German gets asked “I bet you Germans think you’re all uber alles?”
Or even perhaps…like a French guy who gets “So, I heard French are all snobs”.
It skipped my mind these remarks come from people who simply don’t know. Unfamiliar about other cultures (which is kind of normal). Their only sin is actually being so confident about their cultural-insensitivity.
Months after the incident I met the French guy again, and when he asked me what I thought of him the first time we met, I said “I thought you’re just a random French snob”. I told him why, and he admitted his blunders saying “I was trying to be funny it was a stupid remark, I remember that night and regretted ever saying that”.
When I asked him why French people think they’re better than anybody else, he said: “Well, French people are so cool back then… But now, Spanish and Italians are way cooler than us. So we like to reminisce, holding on dearly to the past..way back when we were cool”
A fair enough answer I thought, so I forgave him and we became friends.
The next time I met him, we talked about our plans after Adelaide. He’s to finish another round of internship, finish his degree, do something in Asia, and then back to France and work there. I told him I’m gonna go for a Master’s program, somewhere in Europe, “There’s this program in UK & Barcelona. Really interesting but I want to look for scholarships, couldn’t afford is otherwise” I said.
“Why don’t you have it in Jakarta? Scholarships may be more difficult” he said.
“Well, there’s a lot of scholarships from EU to developing countries you know”
“Really??? he goes (eyebrows raised). Aarrrgh so that’s why we pay a lot of tax!”
Hmm………………cute.
Shaft & The Kissing Disease
Shaft, and the Kissing Disease
Mono, or mononucleosis, also called “the kissing disease” due to its transmission via infected saliva, isn’t as funny as the name implies. The virus that causes it (Epstein-Barr, or EBV) can be transmitted by less exciting routes, such as sneezing and coughing, and the consequences can be really unfun. Besides the standard swollen glands and sore throat (which can be really severe), the long-lasting weakness and fatigue that follow can be a trying experience.
What’s even neater is that we’re told “there’s no cure” by the hallowed halls of modern medicine. Go home, get plenty of rest, drink plenty of liquids, and wait. (www.vitaminusa.com)
I met this guy a couple of months ago, vertically challenged, BIG ego (yes the napoleon complex), a good looking fellow I should say, witty and star of the party. I’m sure you have this kind of friend. Now, for the sake of anonymity let’s call him Shaft.
A player by reputation, he’s got one girl for each day of the week. Sometimes even two. Lunch date with Sarah, drop Sarah home, pick up Katie, and dinner with Katie. The dropping of and picking up is a strategy to anticipate Katie coming in while Sarah’s still around. “Good time management baby!” he said.
Last weekend at the pub, disaster was brewing. Two of his girls came. Each not knowing that he’s been dating both of them. The brunette was cynical and smart, and the blonde was…you know, blonde. Brunette came earlier, shaft casually sat next to her..they chat, drink, it’s 11.30pm. It’s amazing how Shaft can act so calmly knowing that blonde’s gonna come soon. Turns out that he had in his hand…(wait for it…) a wild card.
Brunette has an illness that eats away her stamina. Yes, the Epstein-Barr makes her get tired easily. And on that illness Shaft was betting. He secretly wishes Brunette will soon leave the place. Not 10 minutes later, Brunette stood and left. And 5 minutes after Brunette had left, Blonde enters the scene.
Amazing how fate leans toward the player hey?
Not to the sick, nor to the blonde.
