No Guts, No Glory

Years have passed since my last blog post (and Blogspot is kind enough to store my blog all the while, no charges, no penalties) and today, I decided to post again. Thanks N. for the inspiration.

Some people go abroad to study. Some of them come back to work in Indonesia. Some of them decide to stay and build their career out there. Some of them never graduate at all, but nevermind that. I hear different comments about them:  

• "Oh, good for you! Always better to live abroad, there's nothing for you in Indonesia anyway! Everything sucks here!" (this is from Indonesians who complain constantly about living in Indonesia, but stay in Indonesia anyway)
  
• "Why don't you come home? You're Indonesian! You have to give back to your country, contribute to your homeland, develop the business here and create jobs for the people blah blah blah..." (this is from the hardcore patriotic people who think that the only way Indonesians can contribute to Indonesia is by staying in Indonesia)
  
• "You're not coming back? Cool! I'll go visit you next holiday, make sure you take me to that red light district in Amsterdam.... errr, whatchamacallit again?" (this is from those whose friends decide to live in the Netherlands, and have heard too much about the red light stuff in Z-e-e-d-i-j-k) 

Anywayyyy... whatever the reason, it's always a gutsy move to decide to live outside of your home country. It's gutsy enough when people decide to study abroad. It's even gutsier when they decide to work there straight after graduation. But you know what the gutsiest is? The gutsiest move is this: moving out to another country and starting over, bringing spouse and kids, leaving a perfectly good career that has been built for many many years in Indonesia.

A very dear friend of mine did this. He had very valid reasons to go, of course. He's one of the most sensible, reasonable people I know, so I don't doubt his judgment at all. In fact, he made me think, "If he's leaving, and he's one of the most sensible guys I know, then what am I doing here?" (but that's another story).

So, the next question, "What would you miss the most, aside from friends and relatives and food?"... the answer, "The fact that everything here is 'aturable'." Yeah, that I can understand. The so-called 'home team advantage', something that we can always count on, here in our home country. No matter what problem you have, no matter how bad it goes, there's always someone in our social circle who can do something somewhere sometime somewhat, to help us out, to bail us out, to make everything OK again. And that's an assurance that no insurance company can provide anywhere in the world. 

And he was ready to leave all that, and venture into the unknown in a foreign land.

It's been awhile now, almost a year in fact. Keeping in touch thanks to all those gadgets and technologies and Internet connection. I can imagine all the challenges he was (is) facing there. I can imagine all the choices and considerations he has to make. I can imagine the careful planning for everything. I can imagine the nagging feeling of uncertainty... the combination of excitement and fear that fluctuates with time. I'm not saying that you don't have to face all that when living in Indonesia, but when you live abroad as an expatriate trying to make a decent living for your family, those things are multiplied by at least 100. And despite all that, he pushes through. And for that, I salute him. 

I told him that, time and again. But I guess he'd never know just how much I admire him for his strength and tenacity and faith. So here's the blog post dedicated to you, my gutsy friend. You are the true living example of the adage "no guts, no glory". Keep going. You are an incredible person, and with the guts you have, you will reach glory. 

Faith rules.

Think. Feel. Think Again.

Life is a comedy for those who think... and a tragedy for those who feel.

- Horace Walpole

Think. Feel. Ever wonder what life is for those who 'don't think, just do'? (perhaps they never laugh)... or those who 'think twice before you do anything'? (they laugh twice as much as other people). Or... what about Einstein who said, "I think and think for months and years. Ninety-nine times, the conclusion is false. The hundredth time I am right."? (he must have laughed the hell of a lot). 

Well... better learn from David Ogilvy, then: "The best ideas come as jokes. Make your thinking as funny as possible." (even if you don't actually get great ideas, at least you're having fun trying to generate some).

Now... how about those who feel? Jean Kerr said, "The average, healthy, well-adjusted adult gets up at seven-thirty in the morning feeling just plain terrible." (an utter tragedy, if you remember the first quote at the top of this blog post... plus, it does not bode well for the below-average, not-so-healthy, ill-adjusted adult)

Another tragic thing coming from Oscar Wilde (good old Oscar, I'm so fond of this guy): "Whenever people agree with me I always feel I must be wrong." (confidence, Oscar... confidence!)

Oh, now that we're talking about words... ever get frustrated because you're trying so hard to remember something (like the meaning of a word in a different language--the most frustrating sort) and you just CANNOT? Excruciating isn't it? Here's something that wouldn't help at all: Antonym, n.: The opposite of the word you're trying to think of.

There you go. I'm just sayin'...

You Think You Know Everything About Me?

A good friend of mine wrote on her Facebook status, "Just because you've read my Facebook profile, you think you know everything about me? You've got a whole lot to learn, man... a whole lot." (and I love her for that) but come to think of it, you could learn quite a lot about someone from his/her Facebook profile and behavior. Not to mention their status updates. How frequent is it, and how personal? 

If a Facebook friend is explaining all her family activities and marital problems and romantic rants in her status, updated at least 3x a day, I would think twice or maybe five times before I share any of MY personal stories with her... let alone secrets! 

You can learn that your Facebook friend is 'still rather secretive somehow' (throwing hints and teasers but never reveals the whole truth), 'a total exhibitionist' (detailed summary of current marital problem, anyone?), 'a true social butterfly' (tagged in photos in the hippest and most happening spots in the city, almost every night), 'a manic questioner' (asking 'why' and 'what if' and is happy if people are commenting on them, would only be satisfied if there are at least 15 comments below the status update)... oh, you know the types. And I'm sure you'd log in to Facebook after this, observing and noticing your friends there :) 

All in all, it's a fun place to be and always a fun thing to do. And please do rant and rave and reveal all your life secrets there... it's always interesting to watch (and I can always ignore whatever I choose to ignore... that's the beauty of it :))

The Stuff We Have...

"We spent all those years talking about the stuff we had in common, and the last few months noticing all the ways we were different, and it broke both of our hearts."

That was a line by Nick Hornby in "A Long Way Down". And that summarizes relationships, in a way. It always starts with the euphoria and elation of finding all the stuff we have in common, which range from the usual things like music and movies and ice cream flavors to the weirder ones like star constellations and dead Russian poets. 

Fast forward to several years (or decades, if you're that lucky)... and we start noticing all the ways we are different, which range from the way we arrange our socks in the drawer to the way we write emails to the way we plan for holidays to the way we manage our finances. 

What to do? Should we turn a blind eye to all the differences, pretend that everything's fine, and live our life together as usual? Should we bicker about each other's differences and try to change each other? Should we focus on our common stuff and ignore the differences, sulking internally when those differences annoy one of us? Is there even a good way to deal with this stuff?  After all, once you focus on each other's differences, you would start to feel as if you don't know each other anymore, and you would end up wondering, "What did we see in each other back then? How did we even manage to be a couple all these years? Did we really have things in common back then? Has s/he changed that much? Have I changed that much? What happened to us? Why are we drifting apart? Is this relationship worth keeping? What other options do I have?"...

Seven Days in Sunny June

Now I know what Jamiroquai was thinking when he wrote this song... I think. June has been quite a month so far... full of work and learning and excitement and new people and new places and new things. It's an adventure, literally. In the broadest sense of the word.

The 1st seven days have been full of reporting and catching up on things that I left when I roamed Sumatra on Phase I. It should include rest and recuperation, theoretically. Only I never recuperated properly because I had to prepare for Phase II... 

The 2nd seven days have been spent in three provinces (North Sumatra, Riau and West Sumatra). It's been great. Cool places, cool people, cool findings. Absolutely fabulous. 

The 3rd seven days is... now. I'm right in the middle of it. It's Bengkulu province this time, and it's started with delayed flight. It's a precious lesson, actually. No matter how good you plan things, no matter how detailed and how prepared you think you are, shit happens. At the time when you least expect it. You can rant and scream and be angry and be a pain in the *ss and make other people miserable, but it wouldn't change anything. It would only make things worse. So just stay cool about it. Make changes and adjustments and accept the fact that shit had happened. I bet this is what Murphy had in mind when he made up that famous adage. Here's the full text, from Wikipedia:

   ... nothing is as easy as it looks

        everything takes longer than you expect

        if anything can go wrong it will

        at the worst possible moment.

The 4th seven days will be next week. Covering other 3 provinces (Jambi, South Sumatra, Lampung). The work will be tough, schedule- and substance-wise. But there will be new places and new people and new learnings and new insights and new experiences and new excitements. And the adventure continues. 

The next seven days... who knows? 

Some people say: live one day at a time. One day seems too short and haphazardly impulsive to me. It's 24-hours, no more and no less. And I mostly feel as if 24 hours are not enough. So how about this: live seven days at a time? Seven days seem fair enough. Enough time to think things through. Enough time to plan and prepare. Enough time to get some inspiration. Enough time to live in excited anticipation, barely able to contain myself. Enough time to fantasize and imagine what will happen. Enough time to savor the moments. Enough time to cool down. Enough time to reflect on what happened. Enough time to cherish the memories. Enough time to look forward to another seven days, whatever those seven days may bring me. 

Those seven days might excite you, dazzle you, intoxicate you, lift you, or crush you. But at least you live life to the fullest. Seven days at a time.

...could it be this? the honeysuckle blessings seem to show me

could it be this? for seven days in june i wasn't lonely

could it be this? you never gave me time to say "i love you"

could it be this? i know you don't believe me but it's so true...

The Terminal: Life is Waiting.

It's been MONTHS since I last posted anything here. And so many things have happened. What triggers this post is a 4 hours-delay at Terminal 3, Soekarno-Hatta International Airport... so, there's always a bright side of everything, after all. Had my flight been on-time, this blog post wouldn't have existed. So there.

What I'm trying to do is to get to Bengkulu, today. Never been there before. Some people say the beach is fabulous. We'll see (if I ever manage to get there, anyway... what is up with this Mandala airlines?%&#@!!!).

So far, this is what I've done:

1) ate donuts and drank latte at J.Co... which is always good. No electrical outlet whatsoever, though... a good strategy to prevent people like me from hogging the tables with their laptops plugged in

2) walked around Terminal 3... which is surprisingly nice. The building, I mean. Maybe because it's still brand new. I hope this place stays bright and clean for... ever? Dare I hope so? Building is easier than maintaining, at least that's how it is in this country. 

3) observed people's reaction at Mandala boarding counter... upon learning that their flights were delayed. The reactions vary from anger (as seen from their bulging eyes and scrunched-up faces), amusement (as seen from their expression, and thought bubbles above their heads reading, "Delay... again... how many days this time?"), frustration (as seen from their silent but miserable expression), and apathy (as seen from their stone-like, expressionless faces). My own reaction was a mix of amusement and frustration, because I have to reschedule all my appointments for 2 days. 

4) read the claim form... which would entitle me to Rp.200.000/2 hours delay compensation, which is good. That would cover my donut and coffee expenses. But wait... they're not gonna pay me immediately. So maybe I would get the compensation in a few months, if I'm lucky. We'll see about that. If they screw up my compensation, I'd write a complaint letter about it... but wait... I might get sued by Mandala and sent to prison because of it. So I'll just chill and wait and see what happens. So much for customer-centeredness, customer-orientation, customer delight, customer satisfaction, customer blah blah. 

5) called people.

I still have 3,5 hours to kill. I start to feel like that guy Viktor Navorski in The Terminal... only I still have my nationality because my country is still intact. Maybe I would find the love of my life here (0,01% chance of happening) or maybe I'd just arrive in Bengkulu completely exhausted and cranky and utterly not in the mood for conducting in-depth interviews (99,99% chance of happening). 

Desire

A lover knows only humility

He has no choice

He steals into your alley at night

He has no choice

He longs to kiss every lock of your hair

Don't fret

He has no choice

In his frenzied love for you

He tries to break the chains of his imprisonment

He has no choice

A lover asks his beloved, 

"Do you love yourself more than you love me?"

Beloved replies, "I've died to myself, and I live for you... I've disappeared from myself and my attributes... I am present only for you."

I've forgotten all my learnings

But from knowing you, I have become a scholar

I have lost all my strength

but from your power, I am able.

I love myself. I love you. I love you. I love myself...

I am your lover

Come to my side

I will open the gate to your love

Come settle with me

Let us be neighbors with the stars

You have been hiding so long

Aimlessly drifting

In the sea of my love

Even so, you have always been connected to me

Concealed. Revealed. In the known. In the unmanifest

I am life itself.

You have been a prisoner of a little pond

I am the ocean

And its turbulent flood

Come merge with me

Leave this world of ignorance

Be with me

I will open the gate to your love

I desire you more than food or drink

My body, my senses, my mind

Hungered for your taste

I can sense your presence in my heart

Although you belong to all the world

I wait with silent passion

For one gesture. Once glance. From you.

The Early Bird...

This is very early in the year... so let's talk about being early (thanks, G., for the inspiration)...

"The early bird gets the worm."

Why do people believe this? In Jakarta, maybe you would be able to avoid hellish traffic if you leave home early (like 5 AM). Maybe this comes from the time of our ancestors, where people's occupation was mainly working the rice paddy and farming. Their whole business would be in complete chaos if they, say, start working only at 9 AM.

"The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese."

Because the first mouse gets killed by the trap and is now resting in peace. This holds true in the mice community. I don't know what the analogy is in humankind. You watch your colleague fail miserably in a project, then you take over, and now you know what she did wrong, you avoid the mistakes, and you eventually succeed, you make a big fuss out of it and get promoted? I don't know. Maybe.

"The early worm gets eaten by the early bird, so don't come out early."

This is posted on the wall in the worm community. They're not stupid.

"Where the hell are all the worms?!!"

This is eventually posted on the wall, in the bird community. 

"Shopping Bag" Theory

It was just after a cozy afternoon latte when I walked to my car carrying my laptop bag, when my very good friend (who walked me to the car and would soon be my dinner companion) apologized, "Sorry for not offering to carry your bag for you... it's just that your laptop bag looks so girly... it just wouldn't feel right if I carry that... you know!" 

This is interesting.

First, let me clarify one thing: my laptop bag is NOT girly. It's dark brown with olive green inner lining, yes, but you can't even see the green lining if it's zipped closed. And it's not even "girly green". There's absolutely no sign of girliness in the sense of pink, colorful pattern, ribbon, flower, lace or bling.

Second, and this is the most intriguing part: 1) would a guy refuse to carry something for a woman if the object is considered too "girly"?; 2) why? Is it because such a thing would diminish his masculinity, or is there another reason?

I asked the guy, of course. In the spirit of satisfying my curiosity. Lots of questions, actually. 

Q: "So... how about carrying shopping bags for your wife at the shopping mall?"

A: "Well, I am NOT going to carry a light shopping bag."

Q: "Does it matter if the shopping bag is emblazoned with Metro, Sogo, or other store's logo?"

A: "Not really... as long as the shopping bag is heavy."

Q: "Do you only carry shopping bag with "masculine" logo on it? Like... say, Ace Hardware? So people would think, 'Hey, he is a do-it-yourself guy, man of the house'...?"

A: "Doesn't matter. It's not important for me to be considered such a guy. I only carry the bag if it's heavy."

Q: "So if the bag(s) are not heavy, you would let the woman (your wife) carry them herself?"

A: "Absolutely."

Q: "Why?"

A: "As a man, I'm only obliged to interfere when and only when the bag(s) are heavy."

Q: "How about other acts of chivalry, like opening the (car) door for women?"

A: "I only open the (car) door for very old women, or for heavily pregnant women. My mom, for example, is still very healthy and swift, so I don't open the door for her. I simply let her do it herself. On the other hand, I did it when my wife was pregnant."

Q: "How about other division of tasks between man and woman (husband and wife)... what would you do, what would you never do?"

A: "I don't mind carrying the baby with a kangaroo-carrier strapped up front, I don't mind pushing my other kid's stroller around a shopping mall... but I let my wife do all the grocery shopping, including handling all the shopping bags. Again, I would only interfere when she can't handle it herself. The kids? I would happily care for them in the mean time!"

So, it can be concluded that "girly" is not the real issue here. He doesn't offer to carry my laptop bag because it's not too heavy for me, and I could still handle it myself. Correct me if I'm wrong, N.

SHOPPING BAG THEORY on male categorization

Based on their attitude toward "carrying shopping bags", men can be divided into 2 groups:

1) Knights in Shining Armor

These guys would open doors and  carry shopping bags for women (including laptop bags, for sure), walk on incoming-traffic side when crossing the road with women. They might do it for 2 different reasons, though: 

... because they believe in chivalry and they want to be gentlemen (A-type), OR 

... because they think women are the weaker of the species and thus need all those help and protection (B-type)

The difference can be seen when these guys are faced with the issue of childcare: the A-type guys would be happy to play nanny, even if it's only for the sake of image ("Oooh what a great father that guy is...") while the B-type guys would leave all childcare and babysitting to the women (because that's what women are supposed to do, that's not a guy's business, and they would look less masculine when carrying a baby or chasing a toddler around).

2) Sensible-Practical Guys

These guys are basing their action on sensibility and practicality. would open doors for women when necessary, carry shopping bags for women only when the women cannot handle it by themselves, be protective when the situation calls for it. Because they believe women are their peers. Women are equal to men, and thus can handle things by themselves, and protect themselves as well. 

Childcare? No problem. If it's more sensible for the women to do grocery shopping, these guys would happily be the nanny in the mean time. If the situation calls for the opposite (dad doing shopping, mom babysitting) then let's do it. Whatever makes sense. Masculinity is not an issue. A man can care for his children and still be masculine, whatever "masculine" means.

My friend falls into the "Sensible-Practical Guys" category, I think. 

As for me, you know I have double standard in this kind of thing. Just like that "special parking space for women" issue. I can carry my own (laptop) bag, no problem at all. But if a guy offers to carry it for me, I don't mind either. As for shopping bags: I would appreciate if a guy helps me carry heavy ones. However, if it was a carrier bag from Tiffany or Louis Vuitton, I don't mind carrying it myself regardless of the size or weight *wink wink* 

I'm still curious about one thing, though. And I wouldn't be able to sleep well until I get a satisfactory answer to this: WHY on earth do you think my laptop bag looks girly? Yes, I'm asking YOU. Just call or text me the answer. Thanks ;)

The (Secret) Life of Plant

Visiting Starbucks @ Oakwood. Having my usual hazelnut latte. Chatting with my friend. Going to the toilet. Doing my stuff. Gazing absentmindedly at the lone orchid plant at the corner, right in front of the toilet bowl. Leaving the toilet. Going back to my table.

Did just that on several visits there. Never gave that plant a second thought. But one time, as I gazed at the plant, I thought, "Imagine life as THIS plant over here..." Is it a real plant to begin with? I touched its leaf, and its flower. Its smooth velvety purple petals. It's real. A real, living plant. Growing silently there in a pot, at the corner of a Starbucks toilet, right in front of the toilet bowl. Watching toilet-visitors' face day in day out. Observing their various behaviors. Smelling the various toilet smells. Hearing the various toilet sounds. What kind of a life would that be? 

I just can't take my mind off that solitary orchid.

I try to imagine what the orchid might possibly be thinking.

"Ooh, here comes another guy who can't aim his device properly... splashing all over the floor and stinking the whole place. I wonder what they teach these male humans about point-and-shoot skills? And I'm not talking Sony CyberShot here!"

"Oops. This one's had bad milk, seems like. He seems to be in pain. There he goes again. Yuck. This one stinks big time. Oh my."

"Why is this girl talking on her phone, here? Is she escaping someone? What is she talking about? Ooh... that's her boyfriend on the line. I bet she hangs out here with her other boyfriend... jeez, I wish I could speak! Hey, big guy! Listen here! Your girlfriend's cheating! She's not here with Nina and Trisha! She's here with another guy! Helloooo. You lovestruck fool, you..."

"Boy poops and fails to wash hands afterwards. Must notify Mom. Dirty little brat. Oooh, don't you dare touch my leaves! Shoo. Shoo. No no nooo, DON'T TOUCH ME! Aaargh!"

"Ooh... hot chick. Look at those delicious legs. No. Wait... why is she standing there facing the toilet bowl? What's she doing... whoooaa... is that a cock?!! Damn... she's a GUY!!!"

If only the plant gets interviewed, I'm sure its insights would prove to be as intriguing as Sigmund Freud's.