The Art of Quitting

When one hear the word, “quit”, most people associate it with weakness.  There are tons of quotes that says that quitter are losers.  One that doesn’t quit will be success, bla bla bla.  I was raised with that attitude too.  Not to quit, not to easily give up.  There are several occasion in my life that I almost quitted, one was to quit my studies when I was in the US.  I broke my knee, got infected, 3 months of pain and fever all by myself.  Thankfully, I had a strong mother that pushed me  and reminded me of why I was in the US.  I finished my education.

In another occasion, I quit my job 3 times.  But that was because I had a better opportunity.

My biggest quit was when I quit my marriage.  I didn’t have better opportunity but I just did not see it was working and I did not want that kind of marriage that goes against what I believe what a marriage should be.  Although it was an emotional rollercoaster  making the big decision and dealing with the family, I managed to pull it through and I never regretted what I did.

I read an article very long ago about quitting.  It was a controversial piece but quite mind opening.  I can’t remember the details, but it went against the whole thought that quitting is negative.  I liked that article; I wish I brought that magazine with me.

Some people thinks that instead of quitting, I should fight back.  When I fight, I have to know my enemy and ammunition.  If I don’t have enough ammunition and I know I cannot win, why fight and get injured?  What if the injury paralyze you and make you not able to function at all?

Quitting is not easy though.  And, I think, a person that can quit, make decision to quit, is a strong person. That said, after giving several attempts and being patient for a given time.  But here is a list of why people, or I might quit.

• Quit something against your belief and idealism
• Quit doing things against what your heart says
• Quit being bullied around
• Quit bad habits
• Quit banging and hurting yourself or being abused
• Quit living hazardously
• Quit lying to yourself; who are you lying to anyways?
• Quit when it is not bringing you joy and benefit anymore
• Quit being in the dark

Which comes to, basically accepting that:

• Accepting that you cannot fight the system
• Accepting that you are not strong or smart enough for the work/job
• Accepting that you are not liked between your peers; you are a sore thumb in your environment, or, you are swimming in the wrong pond
• Accept that you are just not fit to it and you are just weak for that matter.  Acknowledging your weakness is strength itself.
• Accepting that it’s just not working and you failed
• Accepting that you are not physically strong enough to carry the burden

I think people that knows when to quit is smart.  I just see some people just go on and complain a lot, get heart attack because they just force themselves doing what they don’t like, what is against their heart.  Some do not have the choice because of the responsibilities, in which case, they are doomed.  But I don’t believe that there is not a way out.  I mean, God gave us brains and strength to start with.  Even a stray dog and a stray cat can live.

And for some people, they will sacrifice their health and idealism for worldly matters. For comfort.  How many people live in a rotten marriage that they cannot stand for?  How many people stay doing a crappy job and do what they know is wrong because of the facilities and the pay?

With that said, of course this article doesn’t encourage one to just quit easily.  What Quitting is not always the sign of weakness.  In cases, it is a sign that we know our weakness and our limit.  It needs courage to admit that we cannot do it anymore.  To some point, it is valuing your own life.

I do admire some people that can say  “I quit”.

I vote for Bajaj-Free Jakarta!

Bajaj on the road: the size, the sound and the speed is just not right!

If there is any public transportation that gets to my nerves, it is the Bajajs.  Those orange three-wheeled noisy vespa-turned-to-car is just not suited for Jakarta anymore.

I have used bajaj before.  For close distance and during rain, it was OK.  And that time, taxi seemed rare and expensive.   This was 1980s and 1990s.   It was not the most comfortable thing to ride in: the vibration is so strong you feel like your knees are still shaking when you get off.  The noise is terrible so you have to shout to the driver to give orders.  You still get the pollution in from the busses because there is no such thing like a window.  Forget about talking on your cellphone in the bajaj.

It is not that cheap anymore.  Yesterday, I stopped a bajaj for a 4 km ride.  He asked for Rp. 15,000,-.  I immediately felt ill and walked away, because I know, I can pay a little under Rp. 10,000,- riding in a comfortable Blue Bird taxi.  What do these bajaj drivers think they are?

When on the road together with bajaj and happen to be behind them, just ready to get pissed off because only God and the driver knows what the next manouver is: turn right or wrong.  They rarely have a sign and when they turn, it is a sudden turn.

When behind a bajaj, all of a sudden Jakarta became cloudy.  Because these bajajs use mixed petrol, what they call “bensin dua tak”.   It is very polluting.  And noisy as well.  When you live in a small street and a bajaj goes by, it is feels like if Goliath is coming into your house.  Very noisy and annoying.

Talking about the speed: these bajajs are slow.  Maybe their max is 40km/hour, and that is already causing seizure to the bajaj riders inside.  If you know a Vespa, most of them here has Bajaj brand.  And they put a cover on top of it.  That is basically what a bajaj is: motorcyle turned a little car.

The size of bajaj is also annoying: too small to be called a car.  They are slow, but they take up your lane.  Sometimes they have no idea how small and how slow they are.

At night, these bajajs don’t have adequate lighting.  Sometimes they only have a 5 watt light bulb on them.

I don’t know what the governor is going to do with these bajajs.  Maybe concentrate them in some areas, but where?  They just add up to traffic, noisy, slow and dangerous.  Honestly, for the housing areas, I sort of miss the becak.  It is more environmentally friendly.

The governer should think whether bajaj still fits in the picture of the already messy Jakarta.  What do you think?

Indonesian Geologists, Here We Are!

A friend of mine, Herman Darman, who is now working for Shell, asked me if I could fill in my bio and write a bit for this blog he made:

Geologiwan Indonesia Berbagi Pengalaman

The purpose is to exchange what we know and what we think to the younger or older generation.  We can know better about the people that we we only used hear about.  This will be linked to the IAGI website.  This is in Bahasa Indonesia, but I hope we will gather lots of Indonesians here, especially those who are quite actively involved in Indonesian geology.

This morning Herman sent me an email saying that he already posted my bio.   Here I am. Not so bad, hmh!

 

 

Jakarta New Buildings and Traffic: between ignorance, corrupted minds and idiots

Traffic.  One of  the reasons why Jakarta is recognized of.  Poor planning.  Not fulfilling transportation system.  No urban planning.  In summary, I think, there is just no will for Jakarta government to fix this place.

One night couple of days after Idul Fitri.  Me and my cousin was looking for a place to eat.  We both live in Kemang area.  We were on Kemang Raya and we started discussing about this building down here:

Apartment on-the-go, Kemang Raya. Look at the width of the road and the height of the apartment.

If you are on Jalan Kemang Raya where Kem Chick’s used to be, now it will be replaced by this apartment.  It looks like a 20 floor apartment.  The road in front of it is a two-lane road.  During rainy season, this road is a mess with flood.  When it is rush hour, or weekend, it is jammed.  This road is a hangout for the youngsters on Friday or Saturday nights, having Codefin, (a four story building with restaurants in it), Kemang Food Festival and Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Not to mention that this is the road that connects Prapanca to the Kemang Area, where lots of pubs and restaurants are.

My cousin and I did the calculation: say, that apartment is 20 stories.  Each floor has 8 apartments.  So, there are 160 apartments.  Most people living in apartments in Kemang have cars.  So, 160 cars in the building, if it is a high occupancy apartment.

Say, one car is 2 meters long.   Do the math, 2 x 160 meters  is 320 meters.  There will be 320 meters plus, say, 160 meter (if they keep 50 cm distance to their front), which means, 480 meters of long cue of cars that wants to go into the apartment.

The apartment will also have KemChicks under it.  So, there are people visiting to do grocery shopping, too.  Imagine how long the cue to get into the parking lot of the building.  Say that there are 50 shoppers at KemChicks.  Maybe, 30 cars.  30×2.5 meters, another 70 meters.  So, there should be 480 + 70 meters = 550 meters additional length of the road to facilitate that building.  So, at least, there is a possibility that building will add up to 480 + 550 meters = 1030 meters, more than 1 kilometer length of cars on Kemang Raya.  How long is Jalan Kemang Raya?  Two kilometers?  Three?

I can’t imagine how jammed pack Kemang Raya will be when the building starts operating.

I mean, just look at Ratu Prabu II on Jalan T.B. Simatupang.  That building is where ConocoPhillips, one of the biggest oil companies in Indonesia.  My friends who works there says that she gets traffic jam even before exiting the road when she gets out of the office.  Why?  Because there are probably 1000 employees in ConocoPhillips.  I have no idea how many of them drive their cars, but I can imagine what happens at 5 o’clock: all employees gets out from the building, driving slowly to get out from the building complex because all their other colleagues are also struggling to get into the Jalan TB. Simatupang, together with those people from Citos or from Pondok Indah driving towards the east.  If half of the employees drives a car, 2.5 meters x 500 =1100 meters = 1.1 kilometers coming into Jl. TB Simatupang.  That is only from one office building. And how many lanes does TB Simatupang have? Two, or three.

You start thinking about how this city is planned by an idiot.  Plaza Semanggi shouldn’t even have a permit.  Pass Kuningan and pay attention on the height of the newer buildings.  Once I heard that no building more than 10 stories are allowed on Rasuna Said.  Look at the Apartment Rasuna complex with more than 23 floors or 19 apartment buildings.  The newer buildings are probably about 25 floors.  If you do the calculation like one floor has 200 people, 100 people drive a car.  100 x 25 floors, 2.5 km caused by each highrises.  Does having a busway on Rasuna Said helps the traffic?  Only an idiot will say yes.

The SCBD area, where Indonesia Stock Exchange and Pacific Place Mall is.  How many buildings are there in that complex?  Tall highrises even before the mall existed.  Now there are apartments as well, and The Ritz.  Where do the cars spill?  Jl. Gatot Subroto and Senopati.  And some clever asshole allowed a car wash place called ‘Crystal Box Car Wash’ on the left hand side if you are from the SCBD complex driving to Senopati.  Does it occur to them that there will be a queue that spills to the road because there is no place to queue while waiting for the car to get washed?

Apparently, when someone builds a building for business like that, lots of money is involved to bribe the Pemda or the city.  I wonder how much ‘ang pao’ or dark money the authority gets to give such permission to build.  Because, I’m not a city planner, so is my cousin, yet we can do simple math to foresee the effect of tall buildings on narrow roads.   So are they plain idiots as a planner?

When I talked about this with my friend over coffee one morning, he said, the root of this is corruption.  I thought about it for a while, sipped my coffee to see the link between traffic and corruption.

I agree.  The solution of traffic in Jakarta is not a smarter governor but a less corrupt government.

A Tale from the Toilet in the Ladies Room

This might be funny for you.  But it was really annoying at the time.  Which makes me think, are people really THAT addicted to their blackberries or their cellphones that they have to take it with them AND use them when dumping their crap?

Happened in the office this afternoon.  There are four toilets in our ladies room on my floor.  Yesterday, one broke, so only three are available.

Ladies, this is not sexy.

It was after lunch and I was dying to use the toilet.   You know, when you have to go, you just have to go.  And I found the toilet was all occupied.  So I just waited.  In my busy brain, I thought that it won’t be that long.  I mean, unless you have diarrhea, how long do you want to spend sitting on the toilet?  What is the average of people spending time in that small room?  I would say, if I wear skirt, it will take probably half a minute for the number one and probably two for number two.  If  I was wearing trousers, it might be slightly longer, you know, maybe 15 seconds longer because you have to tuck your shirt, unbuckle the belt, etc.  Sometimes, to speed my action, I unbuckle while I was walking to the restroom and unbutton already so I just do the business inside.

But guess what, I was probably waiting for more than 5 minutes.  Three people, all doing the business, for more than 5 minutes.  And that 5 minutes seemed like 5 hours in that circumstances.  I started to wonder, what on earth are these women doing?

What annoys me is this.  I start hearing the blackberry sound.  You know, the sounds when you receive messages.  I don’t hear the ‘psssssssssrt’ sound for number one, I don’t hear the ‘plop plop’ sound for number two.  I don’t hear a bomb like sound for overpressured gas released and I don’t hear the toilet flush to cover the not-so-pleasant sound of the crap dropping or the fart except for one toilet.  What I hear is the blackberry sound.

So, I started tapping my fingers on the washtable.  I thought that should be annoying, but then it is not that loud.  So, I tapped my cigarrette lighter constantly like a nervous person (yes, I was getting nervous after 2 minutes).  I crossed my legs, did the Kegel, tapped the lighter.  No reaction.  Despite of that, I even hear the blackberry tone constantly.  So, is this woman dropping her crap or chatting, or dropping her crap while chatting?

So I wonder what else I can do to annoy those women in that small room.  I started walking back and forth, making loud steps, pushed the doors with one finger.  I just walked and walked and walked but this women keep chatting, I can hear!  I was so tempted to poke my head under the door to see what they were doing but I’m afraid any sort of pressure in my stomach will end up wetting my pants.

Finally, one came out of the little room.  She was wearing a dress.  It can’t be ‘that’ long to fix a dress.  And when I sit on the commoter, it was warm.  She has been sitting there for a while I can tell.  Was she laying an egg or what.  So I let go of my excess liquid and I can see the next door still playing with the blackberry.   I was still tempted to peak under the wall to just scare her or annoy her, really, just to catch her messaging with her BB.  But I was just too busy to do that.  I just felt relieved that I was able to not wet my pants or else I have to buy a new trouser and underwear.

I came out of the restroom and God knows how long those two women were in there.

As I enter the office, I stopped by at my colleague’s office first and bitched about it.  Really, what would you say in that situation?  He said, I should’ve just shouted, “Lady, this is a public toilet.   If you are done with dumping your crap, could you just come out and do your blackberry thing somewhere else?”.

I’ve seen people sitting on machines with their blackberries in the gym, I’ve seen people not driving properly and slowly because busy updating their status on facebook.  But toilet, this is incredibly annoying.  What if I needed to do number 2 and I was having a diarrhea?

Some people are just inconsiderate.  They should be fined to bring blackberry in the public toilet.  The next thing I’m afraid of  is if someone brings the laptop to the toilet.  I mean, come on, is connecting to the outside world that important?  What business are you really into?  When you are in the toilet, isn’t the only business is called, “Dump the Crap and Leave?”.

If You Shake Me, I Might Rattle

Do I need all these?

That is what I think of myself when I was taking my pills that the gyno prescribed me this morning.  More pills on top of the supplements that I was already taking.  Boy, oh, Boy, shake me now and I might rattle because of all these pills that I’m taking!  Why those pills?

This happened when I turned 40.  I was dating a person who was fit and healthy and he got me into this self-health-conscious person.  Before that, I was generally living quite a healthy life: I go to the gym, I only drink alcohol occasionally, I don’t eat anything with legs and I don’t binge.  Then I learned that our metabolism slows down somewhere around 30 and the aging process starts  creeping in, then I became alerted.  I started with tossing in regular weight lifting in my gym session instead of just burning calories on the treadmill and the cross trainers.

It started with Vitamin C.  The body does not produce Vitamin C, therefore we need to take it.  The half life of Vitamin C is short therefore taking more than the recommended dosage does not hurt.  The elasticity of the skin and bones depends on collagen, which does not react without Vitamin C and as we get older, collagen production is decreased, hence the skin became less elastic.  So I take collagen as well.

Multivitamin was suggested by the doctor knowing my activity per day to keep me moving, “Because you cannot get all the elements needed from the normal diet”, he said.  So, three capsules every morning, until I added up Glucosamine for my joints (knowing that I do push my limit doing the weights) and B complex to make my metabolism more effective. And, Omega-3, Omega-6 and Omega-9.

That is only the supplement.  I also have some pills that I have to take to keep me sane every morning and every night, birth control pills , which I am not taking at the moment, but replaced by a pill that gives me hormone balance due to my therapy after the cyst operation.

If I catch cold, add antibiotics and another 2 medicines in it.  I believe that taking a rest and eat well is the key for flu but I just can’t stay in bed for weeks.

The silly thing is, when I go to the health store, I still get tempted to add more pills on my list.  L-carnitine before going to the gym, or fat burner.   Some women are obsessed with shoes and purses, I am obsessed with pills.

How much I spend for health alone?  Excluding regular check ups, just for the supplements, I pay betweem $150-$200 a month.  Relatively big amount for a person living in Jakarta.

When I go somewhere, I bring all my pills with me and when I take it during breakfast, my friends usually shake their head telling me that I’m crazy.  Or they wonder what sort of disease I am sufferring from.  I told them it is better to take all these supplements when I am in my 40s so I already have the discipline before I take medicines for blood pressure, cholesterol, or who knows what when I am in my 60s.   Or, to avoid taking those medicines because isn’t preventing much better than curing?

The reason is, I want to enjoy what I can do when I was in my 20s as long as I can.  Or, do all the activities that I am capable of right now as long as I can.  Most of my activities that I enjoy needs physical strength and fitness, such as dancing salsa, running, diving, taking pictures, running around with my dogs.  That is one reason.  The second reason is, vanity.  I don’t like to look old and wrinkled.  I don’t like cellulites.  I don’t like sagging skin.  Therefore, I try to slow down the aging process.  I would like to enjoy strong bones and muscles as long as I can. And, I would like to enjoy my memories as well (although I can assure you that I used to have better memory than the present).  Not only staying healthy, but fit and have a good life quality.  And, it is an investment.

But then when do I stop?  When you look at all the health product that tells us that this and that is essential, this and that can give you more strength, or this and that can prevent cancer, then how many supplements do one have to take?  Or this and that can slow down aging process, this and that can make you good in bed, this and that can shove off some fat?

I look at my pills and they all look important to me.  And just like having an insurance, I don’t want to regret later when the bad things happen.  I guess health has now become expensive.

I don’t know how to end this article.  I guess I’m ‘rattling’ away.

Bapak Tukang Sampah and His Wagon

Still on the Idul Fitri mood, woke up early and…logged on.   I plan to clean the house but so difficult to move myself to get working.  Instead, I downloaded pictures from my father’s birthday and…facebooking, until the bell rang.  The Garbage Man.  Thank God, my garbage has been piling up.   I was wondering when the Garbage Man (GM) will be back working.

I opened up the gate and that was my first encounter with the GM and his assistant after living in this neighbourhood for almost 3 years.  An old man, probably in his 50s and a young man.  “Sampah, Neng”, he said.  Then he let in his trash wagon, which was falling apart.  As the young man collected the trash, some of them fell out from his wagon.  I asked him about the wagon condition and whether he was going to fix it.  “Yes, I intend to fix it but it costs Rp. 300,000,-.  Someone stole my old wagon and this is the spare”.

Mr. GM, assistant and his wagon

Hmh.  How can I give money but also make them work?  I looked at the front of my house and the bamboo trees that has grown pretty wild.  I thought, might as well ask him to clean my house front as well.  I asked him if he didn’t mind cleaning the leaves and he agreed.  So, early in the morning about 7:00 am, I was cutting the bamboo trees and the GM cleaned the falling leaves.  The young lad finally helped me pull out the roots and cut the wild bamboos after he managed the trash.

I thought, how unproductive I have been.  Checking the internet while these two guys were already working?  In this beautiful morning?  I could have started walking the dogs, do the laundry, mop the house, take care of the plants rather than watching the laptop monitor and browse around.    I find it also refreshing to go outside and do some real work under the sun while chatting with the GM.  His kampung is close so he didn’t go ‘mudik’.

While I watch him clean, I was amazed at how he and his assistant didn’t wear any gloves.  He was doing it with his bare hands.  Boy.  What a hard work.  I looked at his falling apart wagon.  That wagon needs to be fixed.  I asked how many GMs are there in this whole neighbourhood and he said probably around five.  I wonder how their garbage wagons are.

We kept cleaning and brooming and I stopped to make them drink and breakfast.  I bet they haven’t had anything to eat, while I piled my fridge with food while Al is away.  I made them toast with chocolate rice and put it in the plastic so that when they clean their hands they can eat them.

You know, I thought, this simple things is quite rewarding.  Now seeing the front of my house clean and the trash taken away, I felt like I have achieved something today.  And talking to the cheerful GM for some reason made me feel happy.

See, in my North Sumatran culture, during the Ied, we give money to little kids.  This is also a chance for some of the family members to ask for money.  There are some distance family members that all of a sudden send text messages which at the end ask for some dineros.  Not that I don’t want to help them, but sometimes these relatives just use us because we are related.  They don’t work, they have some attitude, they are, sorry to say, lazy.  Sometimes my Dad and brother give some money to them but unfortunately I am quite selective when it comes to giving money.  I don’t like to make a habit of begging and I don’t support begging.  I’d rather give to those who work, lend the money to those who really need it to start working where I can see the results.

My maid told me that some of those women that begs around asking donations door to door that I am stingy.  Well, call me what you like, but my maid definetely knows to whom I give a bit of charity: to those who work and to the unfortunate children.   The thing is, with beggars, once you give them, they keep coming.   What do they think, an ATM where they don’t have to put money in the bank?

Keep smiling, Bapak GM!

Everybody works.  Sometimes, I think  I slack.  For sure I feel fortunate that I am educated so that I can earn more money than most Indonesian.  And like this morning, I’m happy I can ask Bapak GM and his assistant to do a bit of a cleaning and gave them some money to fix the wagon, give them drink and prepare them breakfast.  And as an exchange, I was able to read and learn from them while they work.  Sort of a spiritual education that they gave for me:

• Everybody works.  Work hard whatever the condition is
• Take opportunity.  The GM always asks the people if their garden needs to be cleaned, that’s where he gets his additional money
• Work seriously, enjoy and ….smile.   Focus.

I’m still thinking about his wagon.  I wonder if I can gather some young students around here and make a project to make wagons for these GMs.  After all, they depend on these wagons.

Not working this week is definitely the best out of Idul Fitri holiday.  There are so many little things around the neighbourhood that I didn’t realize that gives a lot of insights.   Amazing how everybody, if we choose to open our mind and look around can be an open book to learn about life.

Maybe a project to make garbage wagons for these GMs will be a good project.  Hmh.   Instead of just handing money, why not do something to help them ease their work?

Life is plenty.

Idul Fitri and the Maid

Back home or "mudik"

Idul Fitri again.  After a month of fasting, those who celebrate will go back to their home and gather with their families and relatives.  I am one of those who has a maid that goes home to her ‘kampung’ every year for the Idul Fitri.  She usually leaves for 1 week and come back, usually, broke.  This time, she is getting married so she will be away for 3 weeks.

Sometimes I wonder why they do that.  The bus ticket is 100% more expensive and the trip can be dreadful.  Being in the bus for long hours because of the traffic jam, stay in line for hours and hours while fasting for the ticket and the risk of getting robbed.  But I realize that this is a festive.  All the one year earning in the city will be gone to buy goods for those in the kampung, and also to show off that they made it in the big cities.  I guess being around those you love cannot be bought by anything.  The moment is just too precious to be calculated.

The effect of these maids, babysitters, drives and whatever helpers that leave for a week is quite interesting to watch.   Some see this as a very big disaster, because all the ‘masters’ have to take over all the things their helpers used to do such as cooking, cleaning, look after the kids, mopping, laundry, water the plants, wash the car, dusting, look after the house and for me, feeding my lovely dogs, Atun and Samba.  For those visiting relatives during the Ied means leaving the house empty.  For those who have guests means extra dishes to wash.

After the two days of Idul Fitri celebration, the mall is busy, especially the restaurants.  The maids are not back, therefore nobody to cook.   No time to cook and clean the dishes.  Or too lazy to get their hands dirty.  The expenses during the one week of no-maid time swollen because of eating out or ordering food from deliveries instead of cooking.  I know several people and colleagues of mine that checks into a hotel for a week during the Idul Fitri week because they are too lazy to take care of the house and do the chores!

When I lived in an apartment, the size was so small that I did not have a maid.  I did all the cooking and cleaning by myself.  Just like when I lived in the states.  Now that I live in a house, it is different.  Taking care of a house needs more effort.  The area to sweep and mop is also bigger.  Plus watering the plants and my two dogs.

Sometimes I wonder if we have become so dependent to our helpers.  As if, without them, our whole life falls apart.  I have to be honest that I felt devastated when I learned that my maid will be away for 3 weeks.   But when I think about it, life is not THAT bad without them.  We just have to be more effective in managing our time.   Ok, they can say that I am single, therefore it is easier for me.  But they can share the chores with their husbands, right?  Or maybe it is time to teach the kids to go do the dishes and make up their own room and start learning to have responsibilities. They are on holidays anyways.

Anyways, before my lovely maid left, we went to the grocery store and bought more food to cook.  She cooked at least of a week and stored the food frozen to the fridge.  Therefore, when I come home, all I need to do is heat the food up.  Later on when the stock has finished, I will just cook for a week so during work days I will just heat the food up.

As for laundry, unfortunately my landlord hasn’t fixed the washing machine, therefore I have to do it by hand.  Luckily, I only wash for my clothes, which is not many.  I do the laundry on the weekends and pretend that I am meditating while ironing.  For sheets and jeans, luckily Jakarta has what they call “Laundry kiloan”, where they charge you for the weight of the laundry per kilos instead of per item.  Pick them up clean and folded after 2 or three days.  This service is very popular and almost available in most neighborhood.

During work days, I only clean my room.  The rest of the house, I do it during the weekend, too.  It takes half a day to really make the house clean as I like.  So, I can get things all in order during the weekends.

What I find a bit difficult is to fit in walking the dogs and the regular gym time.  I have to put the effort to wake up earlier, take the dogs out, feed them, then fix my coffee.  Or, I can take them for a walk at night.  I usually go to the gym after office and arrive home at 7:30.  I guess I just have to be more discipline in the gym (and discipline in leaving from work!) so that I can be home earlier to feed my doggies.   This means that I have make the dogs used to eat a bit later twice a week.

So it seems that my weekends will be mostly doing domestic things, but that shouldn’t be a big deal.

I guess not having maid(s) and helpers doesn’t mean that life is over.  After all, don’t you think that we actually have to do all these stuff in the first place?  So, I wonder, is having a maid really essential or is it just that Indonesians can’t be bothered?  I guess having a maid (or two) has been a lifestyle for Indonesians inherited from the colonial time and the Indonesian culture itself .  When you think about it, they are ‘pembantu’, which means ‘helper’.  We don’t call them ‘jongos’ or ‘babu’ anymore.  Maybe we forgot that they are there to help, not to do everything basic that we have to do in the first place.

And maybe that is why some Indonesians find it difficult living abroad because they are so used to be taken care by the maids (or maybe they cannot work!).

It’s the living that matters (A tribute to my friend Lily)

It has been a tough few weeks.  Actually, it has been quite restless since Mid July, preparing for my cyst operation.  Since then, it has been quite a bumpy road emotionally, and physically.

On Saturday, September 5th, I was lying on my bed in a hot, lazy afternoon dealing with my hot flashes due to the post surgery therapy (believe me, this hot flashes and night sweating is so uncomfortable).  I was reading my book, cooling of with the dogs when I received a news that my friend died of cancer in Aberdeen.  It struck me like a lightening.  I never heard that she was ill.  Her husband, Ludy,  was also a dear friend of mine.  All three of us went to the same college, received the same schollarship to the United States for our masters program (my friend followed her husband; she did not go to school in the States).  Being the only three Indonesians, we were pretty close to each other.

The husband and I then worked in the same company, Conoco.  When we got back, we were in the same team.  Whenever there is a gathering, I get the chance to chat with Lily, her name.   She is a restless and energetic women.  I can still clearly remember her and the trips that we did in the states.  Time we spent exchanging recipes.  Gossiping.  And now she is gone.  I was shaken by the news for the whole week.

It was hard to swallow the news.  I flew to Medan on Saturday with 5 other good friends to visit Ludy.  Lily will be buried in Medan, where she grew up.  Ludy arrived Thursday night from Aberdeen, while Lily’s body arrived Sunday night.   We all booked the ticket (it was good enough that we managed to get tickets during the end of Ramadhan) to fly back Sunday afternoon, thinking that the body will arrive on Saturday and buried Sunday morning.  We all missed the funeral.

When we were talking to Ludy, we couldn’t hold our tears.   Both of them are my good friends, they are part of my history.  When Ludy told us the chronology, I couldn’t stop crying, imagining my good friend went through all the painful medication and fight with the cancer.  My heart melted imagining her, a tough cookie, going through all that.   That was an emotionally difficult weekend for me, especially that I knew that I have to fly back to Jakarta without paying my last respect to my good friend.  I thought that I was not being a good friend.  They were very nice to me and they were my family when we were together in the USA.

I thought, if I went to the funeral, I would feel much better.  I could cry my eyes out and let all my feeling pour out at the grave yard.  Then I will feel much, much better, having to let her go.   For a moment, I didn’t think about Ludy, the husband, who is also my friend.  He is left by his own, with two sons.  He is repatriating to Indonesia, feeling very overwhelmed with his loss but having to arrange his family to settle back in Indonesia.  Everything Lily did, he has to take over.  And he has to be strong and tough to carry on because he still has a lot to do: bring up his sons.

For a while, I thought, screw work and presentation on Monday morning.  But if I don’t come Monday morning, the boss will be confused.  My juniors would be put on the spot to do the presentation.  They won’t blame me but won’t be too happy; I will put them in an uncomfortable place.  Wouldn’t I be selfish?

It is aloud to be sad when our loved ones pass away.  I was very sad by Lily’s death.  But then I must think of those who are still alive.  At least, Ludy, if he needs any help moving back.  I would think that Lily would have appreciated that more than my bucket full of tears.

Then as I write this, I wonder about the ritual of visiting the grave of those who are dead before the fasting month and during Idul Fitri.  Those who are dead are remembered.  But what is more important is, those who are living.  People come and people go, there is time to meet and time to be departed.  What matters are those who are still with us and how we can make this life better and be meaningful to each other.

With that, I think about my parents, who are not young anymore.  It is a thousand times better to cherish our times together and make them easier going through the rest of their lives than visiting their grave everyday in the future.  Because what matters are those who are still alive.  Those who have passed away, they are gone.   Those who are alive, we can still make them smile.

(Good bye, my friend Nurlaily Andria.  May you rest in peace).

Blogging: need the time to listen to my mind

Here I am, looking at the calendar, wondering it has been quite a while that I have not blogged.  After my surgery,  I was bombarded with deadlines and worked late in the office.  No time to blog.

Not that My Busy Brain is not busy.  I have several drafts that I haven’t finished.  But for some reason there is just not enough ‘oomph’ to finish them.  As if the brain is blocked and nothing seems to flow in a proper and organized way.   I don’t consider myself a good writer, in fact, the last 3 years has been a new page for me with blogging.  I have come quite a long way, considering I did not have any confidence at all in writing.

I remember when I first started to blog.  My boyfriend at that time, a journalist, was starting to blog and make his own webpage.  I watched him and asked about writing and blogging and he started me up with ‘Busy Brain’ and my first article about pornography bill.  I spent the whole half day getting it done with his help.  Now, it is getting easier.  Although not the great peace…my rank by Indonesia matter is still low.

I take about 2 hours in average to write an article.  More, if the article needs more research.  I haven’t got time to just sit quietly and get some ideas out of my brain and put it in an orderly manner.  Not the time, maybe, but just that force to let what is in the brain to be poured out.

What is it?  Any bloggers out there can share?  Is it because I haven’t been looking outside enough to trigger my brain to work?  Lack of inspiration?  It’s not like an art work that needs lots of inspiration, isn’t it?

Anyways, I believe it will come.