Conversation with God

"God speaks to me in many different ways.."




Welcome to club of middle-class workers in Jakarta. These are feelings I have as one of the members of the club; the job is boring, the money is not enough and.. the job is boring, the money is not enough.. the job is boring, the money is not enough..

One day, frustrated with all 'privileges' the club has given to me, I decided to cut my hair. Yes, having a hair cut could lighten the burden in my head I THINK.

Don't you think so?

OK, having some millimeter less length of MY HAIR is evidently a solution. A quick panacea for me. It makes my head feel lighter. Less heavy. Full stop.

Anyway, it's not my hair that we gonna discuss now (as I'm too afraid that shampoo producers will soon find me to be their next ad star. For sure not to be the 'after using their shampoo' model, but the 'before' one. Rite, we really need to stop discussing my hair now). It's the barber. This barber is special. He has been my barber since the day, as long as I remember, I had my first hair cut in a barbershop.

I don't know his name. But I can directly imagine, while I am writing this, his face, his warmth gesture, and the atmosphere of his small and without aircond barbershop. And the radio of course! Yeah how can I forget his old radio that plays Javanese gamelan or wayang play or anything that sounds to me like something from Java and just brings a breath of Javanese peacefulness in Jakarta's hot, humid and crowded air?

To get the opportunity to do my haircut in his barbershop is also a special occasion. It needs effort as my family house is no longer near my fave barbershop. We move from the East to the South. When I have that opportunity for the first time, after more than 2 years not going there, I feel like not just coming to a barbershop. It's like a meditation place. It's where you get enlightenment after you spend some time inside.

Talking with him always makes me happy. It does not need to involve something too heavy, or too cheap (like a goss). And you don't need to over reacting nor pretending. He is maybe more than 55 now. But I swear, his face, his physical appeareance do not look any older! He is simply as old as (or as young as?)10 years or even 20 years ago during my first haircut times. Nothings significantly change. And he always tells me his secret of his lifestyle, like drink a lot of water, never eat too much, live well managed; when it's time to pray, go to pray, when it's time to have some rest, have some, when it's time to eat, eat then.

My revealation of his secret does not stop in his physical day to day activity. From his mouth, I also find the importance of how we should manage our heart. "Life is not that difficult if we can control our heart to accept our destiny and just do whatever best we can do to live". That's what he said which reflects his Javanese "nrimo" culture. Actually, that wisdom sounds so familiar, spoken and written everywhere, but does not really SOUND to me. But from his mouth, the words can really slap my face. I don't know exactly why. Maybe the way he speaks can influence me, or further, simply the way he SHOWS me the way he lives. Reflection of his words can be seen clearly from him from head to toe, from his life. He is the father of eleven. His job is a barber. And he tells me the success stories of his children. And he always shows me his smiley face. He is happy with his life.

Anyway, have I told you the most important secret of why I like him so much? It's his comment. His comment about me. But before that we all have to agree that he is a simple and honest man. He will not lying about anything as he doesn't have any bad motives to do so. Agree? Agree that he will speak only the truth? Ok, you agree and I will tell you this.

He said, "Wah Mas, makin ganteng aja!"

(Oh well, I should join other club then. This 'the job is boring and the money is not enough' club does not suit me anymore. I am too good looking to be in this club! *grin HAPPILY)

*Dedicated to my personal barber in Melbourne, Tesszar and Abi who kept me looking good without some extra dollars.

Coming Home

An ironic city. One can not describe easily as good. Or as bad.
Jakarta.. is my homecoming city!



This is the city that never sleeps yet the city that makes you do not want to wake up. Of many places in the world, one can say so clearly whether he/she likes or hates the city, whether this city is good or that city is bad. But Jakarta? Hmmmm... It is where you can find all the world-class qualities; a bar like in New York, a hotel room like in Paris, or food like in heaven. Well, at least that's what I've heard and for the last part, of course I am overstating! But yeah, what else you ask for more? It's all here. All the glamorous buildings; malls, apartments are some of the evidences that Jakarta has the largest, even the best of such shopping centres in the region. And the luxurious life style Jakarta offers, does not stop here. Food cooked and served at home, house cleaned, even bed is made tidy for us by someone else.

Isn't it luxurious? Compared to if you were abroad, you have to do all the laundry by yourself.

But here comes the dark side of the city. Well, every commuters must have been so bored to complain about this: the bloody frustating traffic jam. Or, every Jakartans actually. Then, the list becoming longer; the lack of open and green spaces, poverty, pollution.. and helloooo public transportation!

Love, hate, love, haaaaate the city! But whatever it is, it's where I'm coming back to after 2 years of studying in Melbourne. At first I was so shocked. I've got a reversed shock culture I guess. 2 years ago, before my departure, Ausaid gave me a preparation course to adapt to a new culture. But now, Ausaid should have given the same course for me, upon my arrival in Jakarta, to cope with the "new" culture again.

Here's a glance of what happened during my 1st month back in Jakarta, after 2 years breathing fresh and clean Melbourne air:
I was like a total dumb when I tried to cross the street.
I felt so amazed to see the food sold in the street.
To my amazement, I ate es cendol, batagor, siomay, roti bakar, pisang bakar.
As a result, I got a stomachache for about 2 weeks.
And I lost 5 kgs of weight.

But after all, I try to not just complaining. I live my life, Melbourne or Jakarta. And it was fun though, to see the kampung nite market just 10 steps away in front of my house. To see the crowd of my kampung neighbours, to see their smiles. It is the smile of those people that I miss.

"Aahh.. it's good to be home!"



*Photos courtesy of Fathonie Arief

A Little Secret of My Very First Life in Australia

Here is a little secret I've kept for myself for 2 years now that I finally dare to share. Trust me, it is one of the most embarassing moments in my life.

4th of June 2007 was the day I landed safely, excitedly and confusedly in Australia. Oh, and hungrily too! It was in Sydney Int'l Airport I was so excited to practice my first English conversation with real Aussies in their land, after 2 months of English preparation course in Jakarta. I was so hungry that I ordered to this Aussie girl effortfully, with this very poor English, this burger: bacon cheeseburger. I was so confuse to think that bacon = pork = ham. "They didn't tell me in class" is yet my another excuse besides "I thought bacon is beef". Then a friend came and tell me what I actually ate is, after half of the burger was already in my stomach. And suddenly.. my stomach felt soo weird, something I never felt before. It was like the whole molecules in my body rejected the food. Ouggggh!

Then, I complained to the burger girl in that food stall, "Why don't you tell me it's bacon.. ups I mean pork?!" hoping she will replace that burger with other-than-bacon burger. Of course it just made the list of my today's stupidity even longer. Straight away afterward, I threw the burger into the rubbish bin and walked along the airport's food court to find another food, to eat for sure, not to be thrown away. As I walked through the court, till the last food stall, I didn't find any food that can make me drool or even just want to eat it. Abruptly, I just felt don't want to eat anymore, instead I drank a lot, a looot of water to "purify" my body.

Hell yeah, they've got the reason to send me back to uni! A lot of things need to be learned by this always bald and often (not always, really!) very stupid guy. And in that day, I've got my very first lesson here in Australia: bacon would make me skip having a desert! and also the next meal. Very uuunfortunately!