Ah, He Got A GF!

These are the things I know why dating is important. We learn much about other. We learn not to be self-centered, we learn to listen, we learn to find a mutual way out, and we learn about the opposite sex—in some cases the latter could be excluded.

But let me ask. If you’re out of date—no matter why: haven’t recovered from your last broken heart, not many attractive guys around—is it so important to go out for a new dating appointment as soon as possible like finding a job so you can pay the bills or like getting a new pair of running shoes when your old ones have been worn out?

You might not be looking for Mr. Perfect—in my version is a hottie, 6 ft tall, broad shoulders, has that Wentworth Miller look and an Alex Band smile, knows how to be a good citizen and folds his flag in a separate corner of his wardrobe, and devotes his life for the poverty and hungry children in Africa (Amen!)—but if you haven’t found a man with the chemistry you’re expecting to find, would you date any man just to have a date?

I wouldn’t do that. I think it would be like lying to the man, pretending that I like him while I actually don’t. And I don’t think it is a good thing to do.

Wentworth Miller - Alex Band

I am not looking for a Mr. Perfect, as I believe that nobody is perfect. A person with the right chemistry is all I need. Although, I know sometimes chemistry can come to the wrong person too, like meeting someone who has a pretty smile and a decent job, charming, generous, humble—well, too good to be true—and just when I think it’s time to make a move, I find out that he’s already had a girlfriend. Oh, stupid Cupid!

What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted

I remember this Paul Young’s old hit. I was 11 years old then, was so into music charts—Casey’s Top 40 by Casey Kasem, US Top 40, Billboard Hot 100—and loved the tune of the broken heart song. Lately, I've just realized that this was not really an original song by Paul Young, in other words, Paul Young was one of the covers. This song was originally of Jimmy Ruffin - whoever he was - and I said one of, because there were many other covers (thanks to Wikipedia): Diana Ross & The Supremes (1969), Dave Stewart (1981), Robson & Jerome (1996), Joe Crocker (1998), Vonda Shepard (1999), Westlife (2000), Joan Osborne and The Funk Brothers (2002), The dB'd (2005), even a German band called Blue Lagoon (2007).

What is so interesting with a broken hearted? Today, while having lunch with some co-workers, I also discussed about broken hearted.

This might not be an amusing topic, but I’m sure almost everyone has been broken hearted even just once.

My life is not that broken heart free either—as if broken hearts were like sugar: Diet coke, sugar free!—not at all. I recall there were several times I was broken hearted. Some need a quick recovery, some take such a long time.

I remember one of my broken heart moments. It was a sweet boy with a genuine smile and sincere eyes. He was almost perfect. I said, almost. Except that he was unpredictable, and I couldn’t play guessing game anymore. It wasn’t because I was mad, I just thought that this kind of relationship did not suit us. I could not pretend that everything was ok when it actually wasn’t. I don’t think I should force myself into something that I am not able to.

I was broken hearted. Even though I made the decision in a total consciousness, in my perfect healthy condition, but still, knowing that I was losing moments we used to share together, the comforting words, the affection … it did take lots of tears!

A broken heart. What happens to it? When all the sweet things become bitter. When all the curiosities and excitements become boredom. When two different worlds are getting further and further and seems no single way on earth to unite. When the sparks are gone. When the fire fades away. When a small error becomes a big fatal fault. When all the perfect things become mistakes. You’re near but you seem on the other side of the world.

Then it leaves a pain inside your chest. Tears come without you exactly know how they start.

A broken heart. Sometimes another heart is the winner. Sometimes all are losers. But I guess it’s every lover has to go through. I might say it’s a phase of a relationship a couple might or might not face. It leaves us lessons to learn what to fix, what to change, and… it is not easy.

Some other references of broken heart songs (aiyaa...) :

1. Other Side Of The World - KT Tunstall

2. Someday We'll Know - New Radicals / Mandy Moore and Jonathan Foreman

3. Go On Girl - Ne Yo

4. The Long Goodbye - Ronan Keating

5. Can't Cry Hard Enough - William Brothers

This list does not recommend Queen's Love of My Life, because I'm suspecting it to stimulate the desire for committing suicide of a broken hearted person.

"Nasi Goreng!"

It is a common understanding that the first Indonesian words learned by foreigners are probably “selamat pagi” (good morning), “bagus” (good) and…”nasi goreng” (fried rice).

Nasi goreng becomes a popular word due to a joke (sadly true), if you are a tourist and got lost somewhere in Indonesia, you’ll be safe if you remember this word, because you can easily find nasi goreng almost everywhere in Indonesia. It’s an acceptable food, and tastes good (depends on the cook though. But mostly it’s good).

However, a magic word would still not be a magic if spoken in a wrong circumstance.

I lived and worked for a year in Bali, an island of paradise for foreigners, including tourists. I lived in the heart of Kuta, the most crowded tourism area, mostly occupied by young tourists from these groups: surfers, backpackers, adventurers, and them who prefer to save their bucks.

There has been a narrow alley called Poppies Lane 1 (there is also Poppies 2), the most populated alley in Kuta. Motels, restaurants, cafes, bars, souvenir shops, surf shops, internet cafes, barber shops are here.

Bamboo Corner is one of these restaurants that serve good food with low prices. As a matter of fact, it was one of my destination places to fulfill my need for meals. Bamboo Corner hardly ever lacks of guests.

This story is told by Yu Lie, a surfer girl who shared the same boarding house (kost) with me, one of my best girl friends.

One evening Yu Lie was having a dinner at Bamboo Corner, alone, sitting on a seat of one of the tables at its terrace. A group of local girls were having a chat on the narrow alley, in front of where Yu Lie was having dinner.

Then a tourist passed by on a motorbike. It looked that one of these girls knew this person, and so she yelled at him, “Hey!”

The tourist saw the girl, and spontaneously replied, “Hey! Nasi goreng!” and continued his journey, leaving this girl and her friends in confusion.

He might have intended to say, “Apa kabar (how are you)” to her, or perhaps he just wanted to be polite saying something in Bahasa Indonesia. But oh well, he has chosen the wrong word. Happened in front of many people, including some foreigners speaking Bahasa Indonesia, this misuse of language happened to be a funny situation.

The ever-narrow Poppies Lane 1, Kuta

A language switching is probably not as bad as the misuse of words, but still, interesting. If you visit Bali and would like to see a beautiful sunset or to surf in a place called Dreamland, part of Uluwatu, along the steep road to it, you’ll find words like “POLICE IN 50 M. NO BAGUS!” or just “POLICE! NO BAGUS!”

It is said that some bad policemen like to blackmail tourists (sad though). The reason for asking some money from them is, “You are not allowed to hang around on the street wearing no cloth.” Surfers are perfect victims because they often don’t wear shirt. Even they still wear pants, topless is considered “indecent” (Give me a break, Officer. You guys give an irony to the meaning of Bali tourism. Topless boys and girls are spread on the beach). Some Brazilian surfers who didn't like this fact, sprayed these words along the road to Dreamland as warnings to their fellow surfers to beware of the police officers who can suddenly jump out in front of them in any given second.

Nasi goreng, lah!

Konde, Oh Konde...

Culture is one of Indonesian assets. As an Indonesian, I am thankful for the rich culture we inherit from our forefathers. As a matter of fact, I like the diversity of Indonesian ethnic culture and proud of it.

However, as a remain of ancient days, some irrelevancies occur in the use and applications of culture, or in a more exact meaning, the traditions. On the other hand, our seniors (i.e. the ladies and gentlemen become the foremen in our colleges or offices, the deans, our bosses, the President, the Secretary of Education, etc., or perhaps our own parents?) enjoy maintaining the complexity of some traditions.

I’d like to share one night I spent chatting with Desita, reminiscing our college years which ended up talking about “konde.” Started with a topic of Joglosemar bus that Desita hasn’t ever seen since she left this city after we graduated, we ended up talking about the graduation day.

I just realized that a hairdo had made Desita so annoyed, and since, I just realized that many of us could have felt the same way too. I didn’t feel that way because I was pretty comfortable with the hair bun my hairdresser had made.

Konde is Javanese hair bun, included in a package of traditional Javanese outfit.

We ended up concluding we hate the outfit we were wearing. We concluded the outfit and the stuffs we had to do were annoying.

This is what I’ve discussed with Desita (with some editing of course, cuz you know how messed up a conversation on Yahoo Messenger or any chat room could be).

Desita : We graduated on the same day, didn’t we? :D

Me : I think so, didn't we? Yeah, you sat on the first seat on the right, cuz you had the highest GPA!

Desita : No way…it was Vilia! :P

Me : Oh, it was her!

Desita : I only had 3.2

Me : Oh, you sat next to me! Yeah…I just had 3.27. You had 3.29.

Desita : Slightly different. Like butter and margarine.

Me : Yeah

Desita : See? Hu uh.

Me : But we had to sit in order, so we did in order, though the difference was just 0.2. We can’t sit on each other’s lap! :D I forgot who sat on my left though.

Desita : You should have gained 3.30. So you would have sat on my right, the first seat.

Me : Why? So I would get the first cake?

Desita : So you would have been pictured first!

Me : Oh! Yeah… but thankfully I wasn’t! It wasn’t a perfect moment to be pictured. I hated to be pictured on graduation day.

Desita : I hated my konde. I really hated it.

Me : It was damn ugly.

Desita : I hate the ibu-ibu in salon who made it.

Me : I hate my toga (toga = academic gown, according to Desita). I wanted to take off my toga, it was damn a hot July afternoon

Desita : I don't really like my konde on my wedding either but I really love the make up :D. I love my muka (muka: face).

Me : Yeah, you always look good in Javanese make up anyway.

Desita : It depends on the make up artist too. Wish the mbak-mbak who did my make up on my wedding was the same person did my make up on graduation day. ;))))))))))))))))))))))

Me : I ordered a hair bun, but not really a konde. Maybe she just twisted my hair. That’s why I looked cute, didn’t I?

Desita : Ya yaaaaaaa. Wish i could turn back time. I also ordered a “cepol” (cepol: a small piece of hair bun), but the lady didn’t seem really understand.

(Duh! If I could turn back time, I would try to get a scholarship to Singapore's Nanyang University. Wondered why I didn't even think of it.)

Me : But I hated the toga and the hat, I think it made us look like clowns.

Desita : We were clowns!

Me : I mean, get real, toga is definitely not women's outfit! So why did we have to wear kebaya and konde?

Desita : Everywhere in Indonesia, you have to wear kebaya and konde on your graduation day. That’s why I decided to take a Master Degree abroad. Indonesians are so into culture, Jeng, eventhough sometimes it isn’t important at all.

Me : But it’s a paradox! (I meant toga, and kebaya and konde).

Desita : That, write that on your blog!

Me : A good idea. I must scan my graduation pictures though. They weren't digital. Or perhaps you’d like to contribute yours?

Desita : Not in this life!

Me : :-)))))

Desita : I hate it with all the konde and stuff la

Me : Ha ha!

What Desita said was true, Indonesians are so into culture, eventhough sometimes it isn’t important at all. Like I said, if we had to wear toga anyway, why should we have worn kebaya (the traditional Javanese women’s blouse) inside and konde (and then we had to cover it with hat?). It’s just so confusing. I think it’s a paradox. A stupid paradox.

And what I don’t understand is, why did I wanna do it anyway?

Vilia, that girl who had the highest GPA, she didn’t make a hair bun! She just loosened her hair and wore outfit as if she was a Chinese princess.

Perhaps you won’t understand what we felt—if you don’t experience it, that we finally admit it was one of the worst moments of our college years--to be in an uncomfortable traditional blouse, a tight batik skirt, and put on a heavy, thick academic gown outside and put on a stupid hat. I even wished I could skip the graduation if only I didn’t remember I needed the diploma and to be pictured with my classmates!

Anyway, a picture of me and my girl friends might help you figure out what kind of torture we were going through. If a picture paints a thousand words, this picture even tells you a million. It was as if we were punished for a crime we never committed.

I am on the left, and Desita is that girl on the right.
(Click the picture to see a larger image)

Somewhow I must apologize to Desita for finally revealing the secret we have been keeping for years (we never wanted to remind that stupid konde and toga), revealing the ugliest performance we ever made, the most sweating day of our college years.

Oh Sistas, Where Art Thou?

Most of my blog posts are about me and myself and the world related to me. Once in a while, I remember my dear friends, with whom I share these laugh and tears. I want to share their stories.

Mimay

I always hate Monday. It’s classic, or even cliché, but I do hate Monday. Monday brings me back the routines, the schedule, the weekly meeting, the phone rings, the e-mails, the letters, after two days of peace being myself.

This Monday, instead of being drowned into the hatred for Monday, I’m pleased to surf Mimay’s blog.

She’s still the most photogenic girl I’ve ever known (I’m not gonna compare her to Agnes Monica, or even Paris Hilton. She’s the most common-not-from-celebrity-world photogenic person I know), though I would never forget one Saturday when I went out with Mba Penny, Kak Jamur and Kak Ira, we met her somewhere and hang around Jakarta and when we finally dropped her in front of her boarding house she confessed that she hadn’t take any shower that day!

One thing that I like from her blog is, it’s so girly. It’s so feminine. I’m not talking about a blink-blink page with pink hearts and purple butterflies spread all over. It’s about the writings.

I think the world needs a straight, honest blog, with which you don’t have to pretend you’re tough, or bother too much of being a Fun Fearless Female. A blog that wouldn’t encourage you to pretend you don’t care about things called the BIG ‘L’, or that you have to smile while writing ‘3’ in front of another number in the ‘age’ box in a filling form, or dreaming of a diamond ring or a white knight in a shining armor trying to save you from the questions from your family and friends. You don’t have to pretend you won’t turn to someone like Matt Damon (?), or in my version, Wentworth Miller.

You don’t know what you got till it’s gone.

I like that idea, Mbak Mimay. But in some cases, it’s not us who don’t know what we’ve got. Some cases involve stupid guys (sowy, my male friends…) who don’t know what they’ve got till it’s really gone. Some guys don’t realize that they’ve hold one of the best things in life, instead, they just abandon it. Even in that case, we, the women (praise the Lord to have created such a character) still wondering, have we not preserved it well.

Popin

Popin is the petit girl that has never rejected my invitation to go anywhere or to do anything for weekend, except when she was catching a cold. Recently, she’s the most “invitable” person around.

We went to Chinatown last weekend, having a Chinatown dinner. I had Singaporean noodles and she had her dish consisted of roasted pig’s ear and pig’s intestine (it didn’t look as bad as it’s heard).

Popin issued two announcements. First, she’s just had a new boyfriend (congratulations!). Second, she’d be unemployed as per February 1, 2008.

Popin has spent 5 years with the company she’s been working for. Lately she thought she’s been exhausted and I think she has. I could see how the company had occupied her so much even on holiday season, when she had to organize things and contribute much of her energy, on December 26 and 31 (!).

It might seem unwise to leave a job before you got another. But there are some things in life that you can’t compromise and you can’t take anymore. In Popin’s case, where she’s been loyal and dedicating most of her time and skill for the company, and when the company is unable to see that, keeping it is not wiser than leaving it.

Well…I can’t say how long she’ll be unemployed, neither can her, neither can anybody alive and dead. All I can say is, I wish her the best. I know she’s considered what’s best for her. I just believe that there must be something good for her, an architect who has experienced in designing houses.

Clara

January 29 was Clara’s birthday. Happy birthday, my dear Clara!

Back to my old days in Bali, Clara used to be the girl with bob hair, mocked by the guys (not in a bad way though, just in a sense of friendship), either it had something to do with Mas Yudi or just called ‘ndut’ (usually Fei did this, though Clara wasn’t fat).

Clara loved so much to be in Bahiana. She was pleased to have her first salsa lesson with Ben. She mamboed, she twisted, and she was bent. And like I did, she loved to have a dinner at Warung Italia! A dish of spaghetti carbonara (too bad Antonio didn’t serve fettuccini), a scoop of salad, a piece of cuzione bread for dessert. Just like Mas Yudi, Clara loved to have “Soto Ceker” close to our office building complex for lunch. And yet, sometimes she liked the unhealthy lunch of “nasi jinggo” sold by a vendor passed by our building complex (dear, I really missed those unhealthy things a lot now!). But nothing can beat her love for Siobak Singaraja in Denpasar!

Many times she called herself “coward”, because she said she had no courage to tell her boss what was in her mind (hey, Clara, I think you have a companion here).

Moments with Clara that I’d never forget was the “Clara dan Ketek” (Clara and the armpit), a series of incidents she experienced with our dearest Shigetada Suzuki. Dear…how could I retell those incidents? It has taken all of our pities, laughs, and tears (tears of laughing).

So, Clara is now safe in her hometown, Bandung euy, never forget the pin she sent to me when I went home. I love that pink flower, I love to pin it on my green blazer or my black denim jacket.

Miss Ya Sistas

Life sometimes can be so hard and so harsh and so confusing, but if you have someone to talk to, at least some questions are answered or ideas pop out. And I was lucky I had not only one, I had these good guys to give plenty ideas I needed.

Thanks Mba Mimay for the girly, feminine encouragement. You’re still the most stylish person I know. Yeah, so you’re 57 now? Wow, I must have fallen asleep for 22 years!

Bunch of thanks Clara sista for being there for me in the foodcourt benches, spending hours eating, drinking, talking, browsing and chatting on the internet, and building this circle of friends—these dearest guys of the Foodcourt Club, 8 regular members, 14 or more extended—waiting for me to come on Sunday morning to go to church together, never forget that, and looking forward to another night at Bahiana. 26 are you now, dear? What has your Abang sent for your present? Well, I wish you all the best and lotsa love.

And Tante Po, though you're just 2 blocks away from my house, I wish you good luck for a brave new step you're gonna make in life. Thanks a heap for always available for any jalan-jalan on the weekend. And for any Saturday afternoon messing up my bed for hours sipping cups of coffee, talking about Christian Bale and Stereophonics and Ugly Betty and Won Bin and whether Cesc Fabregas never would come home to Spain and whatever topic girls may talk.

Resolutions 2008

Andik reminded me, "New Year just a week passed. Hope we start it well."

Til he said so, I hadn't remember that I should have.

When I attended the midnight service on the new year's eve, I made some wishes, some of which were "too personal" to publish (sorry...), and yet, I want to post some so I'd never forget to work on. It's day 15 now,but I think it is not too late to remind ourselves of what we've wished for the whole year. Like everyone else has done. Resolutions, the more common term.

A Scholarship

Back to college has always been my dream that hasnt come true. I don't really take a degree so important, what's more important to me is "studying something". I'd like to learn something new, explore a new place, new culture.... Europe is still my dream, or maybe The States, but I don’t think I really want down under.

Another Career

A bored person? I am. I'll never give up til I get my dream career (which I don't know which one). I still want to work for others, like feeding the children, working for the poors, working without making any profit. Selling, marketing, promotions... these things are getting boring.

And I still want to be a writer! One thing that I'll never forget. I want to write for National Geographic, visiting Egypt and seek if there are undiscovered remains of Queen Nefertiti's. Or exploring Peru, digging Peruvian ancient civilization, and later climbing up villages in Nepal. So...I think if there's one perfect combination for these dreams it should be working as a researcher for UNICEF collaborating with National Geographic, doing a research about Nepalese children, writing the research, and publish it on National Geographic Magazine. Or vice versa. Writing for National Geographic, involved in the Machu Picchu project supported by The UNESCO. Aha! ;)

Dreams... dreams. I am a dreamer, but I'll never stop making my dreams come true.

Publishing My Book

Been writing...two blogs, a thesis, a couple of unfinished novels, a dozen of 8 pages short stories...Sent any to publishers? One. To magazines? Some. Published? None (except the ones with BITE Magazine, no wonder laa...).

My fantasy novel, basic idea written when I was in high school, a well-known Indonesian publishing company might categorize as "teen literature", returned it after I rewrote it for months.

I'm not giving up! I'll never give up until I publish one book. And I want this year to be my initial year of my writing career. I'm writing another novel, and I hope I can publish it this year.

A Holiday

I need a holiday! Bali is a good choice to have a relax time, escaping from daily routines, no phonecalls, no fax, no e-mails, no orders. Reminiscing the days I spent with the foodcourt club - Clara, Fei, Andik, Ewy, Mas Yudi, Yu Lie, Shige, Kohei, and Haru, sometimes Farid and Benny - hope I can make it this year!

Oh, and Aceh! I want to see this place. I want to visit Mba Penny and see how she deals with the social life, the working culture, and the locals. Might not be something really important, but I'd like to do it, just to know how life is in this controversial region.

TOEFL and IELTS Scores

I must renew them. I must. It's been...3 years? No university will accept expired TOEFL or IELTS scores. So I'll take them.

Relationships

Want to have better relationships with everyone. I want nothing ruins my relationships with my friends, best friends, co-workers, networks, family (mum, cousins, aunties, uncles), neighbours, and want to mend any broken relationship in the past (like with...ex?! No).

Romantic relationship? Hehe. I guess everybody's wishing for it. But...if I have to talk about it, it could be one single blog title. So, it's better to save it for the next feature. But honestly, I only wished for the good things in relationship I'm in.

There must be some other things - if I search deep inside - been my wishes, but I guess those things are part of my daily wishes (to come to the office safe and sound, come home safe and sound, not eating too much, got enough time to breathe, things like these). Those are my new year's wishes, and I post these wishes on my blog to remind me that I should not stop running for them.

Some wishes need resolution to make them true. Some beyond human power. But I'm reading Rhonda Byrne's The Secret, the book speaks about the power of dream, the power of thinking positively. The universe never hears the negative atributes, like 'not', 'do not', 'never', etc. The universe hears only the positive words. So I guess if we tell the universe everything we wish for, by telling our hearts saying no negative word, the universe will work for us, to make our dreams come true. We still got 351 days!

Happy New Year 2008!

Bright Lights

Bright Lights

- Matchbox Twenty -

she got out of town

on a railway new york bound

took all except my name

another alien on broadway

there's some things in this world

you just can't change

some things you can't see

until it gets too late

baby, baby, baby

when all your love is gone

who will save me

from all i'm up against out in this world

maybe, maybe, maybe

you'll find something

that's enough to please you

but if the bright lights don't receive you

you can turn yourself around

and come on home

i got a hole in me now

i got a scar i can talk about

she keeps a picture of me

in her apartment in the city

some things in this world

they don't make sense

some things you don't need

until they leave you

and they're things that you miss

[chorus]

let that city take you in

let that city spit you out

let that city take you down

for god's sake turn around

Lord...I'm Tired

Lord...I'm tired of faking this smile
I'm tired of taking care of these demanding people
I'm tired of doing this complicated work
I'm tired with this feudalism and bullshitism

Lord...I'm tired of convincing people I'll be fine
That I only need time
I'm tired of telling myself everything's gonna be okay

Lord...I wont mind having these hard days
Just to touch the face of an angel
Lying down on the sand, feeling the breeze
And assure myself he knows that I care about him

Lord...I dont tell you everyday what I wish for
But I'm sure You've known before I do

Lord...You've made this earth so big
I wish You could make it smaller
And everything's easier

JOGJA...JOGJA!

Finally, after delayed for at least three times, I made it to Jogja…!!! This time no sleepover, no waking up early in the morning and taking a walk along Sosrowijayan Street getting a pack of Nasi Gudeg, watching early vendors getting ready to sell their items. No giggling with friends in any ‘warung lesehan’ along Malioboro Street til late at night. I was alone! It was a one-woman-show.

JOGLOSEMAR: JOGJA-SOLO-SEMARANG

I left home as early as 5.40 AM. This Bus JOGLOSEMAR departed at 6.05 AM. I promised my friend, Desita Terbritish Abish (The-Britishest-Ever Desita), to take a pic of this bus because she said she had never seen it, but I forgot to do it because I saw no ‘JOGLOSEMAR’ written on both sides of the bus, instead, I found “Bus Pariwisata” written on its both sides, which made it no difference from the other tourism buses, except that this bus is smaller in size. Desi…! I’m sorry, Bune!

JOGLOSEMAR is a tourist bus with destinations to and from Jogja-Solo-Semarang. However, the route is divided into three: to and from Jogja-Semarang, to and from Jogja-Solo, and to and from Semarang-Solo. I don’t remember when exactly this bus was launched, but I remember when a friend, Ben Clanchy a.k.a. Pak Satir visited my city in May 2005—just three days before I moved to Bali—and was going to continue his trip to Jogja, I reserved him this bus and it was new.

I didn’t know where to stop. I just knew that the place I was going to was Ngaglik, Sleman. I had never been to Sleman. I just knew that this place was a part of Jogja.

Anyway, after two long days at work, waking up and leaving home so early made me sooo sleepy. I slept all the way to Sleman. Thanks to the nice stewardess, she woke me up just before the bus reached the Ngaglik Junction. She said I should stop there, and take left to Nganglik.

And so, I didn’t know where to go. I was going to take any taxi, but it looked that I can hardly get a taxi. There were some ‘tukang ojeks’ (motorbike taxi riders) ready to deliver you anywhere, and I told one of them if he could take me to this place I had to go. So after searching for a confusing address (no number, just the street and the name of the building) for about 10 minutes or so, the Mas Tukang Ojek finally dropped me in a nice house with a Javanese architecture, five minutes before 9 in the morning. Gosh…I felt like I was in The Amazing Race, taking a Road Block task.

The building itself was so nice and comfy. Located in a suburb of Sleman, facing a paddy field, I like the breeze blowing from the trees surrounding the building.

I’ve done my things in 1.5 hours, and off to AmPlas (Ambarukmo Plaza). I was hungry and this was the only place crossed in my mind of where to get lunch. So I took a comfy place close to the window on the mall’s foodcourt on the third floor, having a dish of Chicken Curry with rice which was not as good as Akbar’s Tandoori’s at Plaza Senayan (Akbar, I miss your curry and massala tea!) and a cup of Thai Tea which was excellently good. Yeah, I was a bit disappointed with the chicken curry which I considered a bit too salty and yet not so tasty and not so spicy (curry must have much coriander and whatever other spices), but I really liked the Thai Tea which was a bit similar to Indian massala tea.

I’d had enough with my lunch so I continued observing the mall. I like AmPlas and that was the second time for me. I found an outlet which used to be one of my favorites in Jakarta (because of the low price and the nice designs), Number 61. So I entered this outlet and took some cute stuffs to be added in my wardrobe.

MALIOBORO
I’m a girl. A trip is never really a trip without shopping. A trip is a good reason for spending your money on shopping. And to me, every vacation is a moment to be myself—eating my favorite food, seeing things I want to see, and buying things I want to buy.

I left AmPlas and continued my trip to Malioboro Street. I missed this place, no matter how different it was than years ago when I used to walk with my Dad and Mum and bought those unimportant things—clamp necklaces, wooden bracelets, key rings, carved sandals.

I’ve been here for hundreds of time. Twenty to ten years ago, I used to come with my parents, and sometimes with my cousins. And then I came with my classmates. And since my Dad passed away, I came only with my mum. And now I did it only by myself. Hmm…things changed. And guess life changes.

It was a real struggle to Mirota Batik, my mum’s favorite place. I don’t know why is this place always be the first place she thinks of. She always says “I’ll meet you in Mirota Batik,” or “Let’s search some things in Mirota Batik”. But it did give me an impact. I walked along 300 meters or so on high heels and a skirt from the starting point of Malioboro Street to this spacious store with a “Mirota Batik” banner outside, just to find one thing or two as presents to I-don’t-know-who-yet.

The owner of Mirota Batik has a brilliant idea to present all the stuffs of Javanese culture in one store. Batik fabrics, handycrafts, wayangs (Indian-Javanese puppets), paintings, traditional herbs beverages called ‘jamu’, traditional delis, Javanese coffees, Javanese tea, even Javanese Chocolate (!), Monggo Chocolate. I think the best corner of this store is the corner where a Javanese lady wearing traditional Javanese outfits sitting on her bended knees, painting batik fabrics using ‘canting’ complete with the boiling wax in a pan on a small stove, various plant seeds as the natural color ingredients in bottles. It’s said that a person won’t finish this work in less than one month, just for a 2 meters piece of fabric. What a patience. Anyway, I like the smile of this 'ibu-ibu' when I asked for her permission to take a picture of her. (Desi, does her 'konde' remind you of something?)

Releasing myself from the crowd of Mirota Batik, I continued seeking cute stuffs in Malioboro Street. My favorite moment in Malioboro is always the time I bargain half or one third of the price and I win it!

TOURISTS
One thing that surprised me was, not many tourists in Jogja! I’m wondering if it was an impact of the political crisis in 1998 followed by riots, and then the first Bali Bombing in 2002 and again, the second in 2005, and not to mention the Tsunami Disaster in Aceh and North Sumatera in end of 2004? But I mean, wow! What an impact. What is Jogja without tourists? What is Malioboro without foreign shoppers? What is Sosrowijayan without backpackers?

Sosrowijayan! I remember spending my nights here with my parents and my cousins when my Dad was still around. Watching the backpackers, becaks, old-skool bicycles passing by, getting an early morning breakfast from an ‘ibu-ibu’ selling nasi gudeg Jogja complete with a piece of chicken’s breast or wing or head, super-tasty coconut milk, spicy sambal goreng and a piece of cassava (yes, cassavas in gudeg!), wrapped in a piece of banana leaf.

Across from our hotel was a narrow alley I never knew the name. There was “Superman Bar and Restaurant”, a quite spacious place where we used to have our lunches and dinners. Here I met a person who looked like Stephan Jenkins, my favorite celeb of those years, the lead vocal of Third Eye Blind. I remember looking at that face, and just when he realized I was looking at him, his pretty girlfriend showed up. :P

I left Jogja at 7.59 PM (according to the clock of Joglosemar Bus. Man…this bus is so punctual). It’s always been a nice trip to Jogja, even when I had to do it alone. Eleven hours in Jogja and I went home, seeing my beloved faces, watching the last episode of this season’s Ugly Betty (which wasn’t a good ending…what will happen to Santos?), crawling up my dearest bed and pillows, sleeping, and having a day off today!

Set The Fire To The Third Bar

Here's the lyric of a very nice song by Snow Patrol featuring Martha Wainwright. Listen up to the song and catch the lyric as it is very deep and that Gary Lightbody and Martha Wainwright had made such a good collaboration.

Set The Fire To The Third Bar

Snow Patrol feat. Martha Wainwright

I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from 'A' to where you'd be
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My finger in creases of distant dark places

I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I've found so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science

Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me

I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground I,
I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms

After I have traveled so far
We'd set the fire to the third bar
We'd share each other like an island
Until exhausted, close our eyelids

And dreaming, pick up from
The last place we left off
Your soft skin is weeping
A joy you can't keep in

I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
And I, I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms

I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground and I,
I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms