Chronicle of Cabbie Talk

Another traffic jam, another chat with the cabbie. I should make a series out of this. They said in a movie somewhere that cab drivers are good judge of characters, second only to bartender. They’ve probably met thousands of different people behind their wheel. Anyway, luckily this time the driver only had a bearable mild body odor. Wouldn’t it be even more miserable trapped in the traffic jam with a stench that would make you nauseating all the way?

The bloke is a proud 37 years old with a rather abrasive manner. Some motorcycle run passes him in a way he didn’t approve of, and suddenly some animal and bodily expletive blurted out like machine gun. Interesting character this chap. He admitted that he’s pretty naughty when he was a boy, raised by a strictly discipline policeman father. With his thick Batak accent, he told me about how he used to run away from home, and stop short of saying that his father abused him as a child with plenty of physical punishment for his misdemeanor. It goes to show that rigid discipline and severe grueling act won’t always brings the good out of someone.

He’s now a father of two and trying so hard to straightened his behavior. Even though it’s hard when it comes down to women, he admitted. Especially living in five days away from home each week, a man needed some sort of lechery or ‘channeling’ he flagrantly said. I wanted to ask whether the fact that his father often beat him as a child, would he then pass it onto his sons or did it make some sort of repercussions in his behavioral pattern in the long run. But I didn’t want to offend him with such a sensitive question. He said that once out of fury, his father put him in the district prison after wrecking his car. I was simply astonished when I hear that.

Talking with the man made me think about the last episode of Oprah. The main theme was crime and violence. I remember one respondent remarked about the defining moments in our life. How we respond to that situation will dictate the course of our life. In these case she chose the wrong action and facing a life sentence as the result. Oprah also share the story about her defining moment was when her mother grew so tired of her antics and trying to ‘leave’ her in a county prison. Luckily the prison was full and Oprah realized that if she didn’t change her manners she would really end up behind bars. She can’t imagine what would have happened if the prison were not full at the time, what with all the rape, rage, and violence fostered in the US penal system. She is now one of the richest entertainers in the world though.

Speaking of defining moments in our life made my mind wander to several flashbacks. Surely you have some on your mind too. Mine would be when I suddenly decided to quit the Akabri (Indonesian Military Akademi) and went to the University instead. My father was speechless for more than one minute when I told him about it by phone. I still maintain that I made the right decision, yet sometimes I do wonder, what would it be like if I am still there. Several friends (who still in the armed forces) applaud my decision though, because apparently life as an army man is dreadfully arduous both physique and economy. However, there’s a solemn proud ness and dignity in serving your country as a soldier. Even though in recent days, our society look upon them with mixed feelings, some are admittedly demeaning, yet they are still regarded highly in my book.

It’s not all about big decisions and defining moments, though. You might remember in Vanilla Sky, how little things in life can be a certain turning point for us. I found myself very intrigued by the strange look in Tom Cruise’s face when he weighs his decision whether to join Cameron Diaz’s car or not. Seems very simple. Which cab to take? Which turn to make? Which way to go? All small choices can lead to a probable big occurrence for us. I never thought that helping a girl with her assignment in the end lead her to become my wife. Or some random project I did in college will end up getting me hired for the first time and made me wind up working in the field I do now. We’ll never know which one, and that’s where lies all the excitement.

Interview with the Cabbie

Last nite, when facing traffic jam on my way home I had a small talk with the cab driver. It’s been three times though the same subject mentioned with the same tone. They miss the old Suharto’s regime. Not surprisingly, they were all talking about how situation were much better during those days and how much development and prevalent economical welfare felt by the people on ‘almost’ every class. They were stressing about the stabilized national security and feeling of patriotism upheld in high esteem by all. Granted that the freedom was ‘slightly’ compromised but they recognized that as sacrifice they’re willing to take instead of real chaos and total indignity they see these days.

To be honest I was a bit stunned, because I remember it very well, marching with thousands of other protestors during those 1998 period. At that moment what we’re fighting for seems so true and worthy. The regime that’s in power for more than 32 years was deemed to be the source of suffering to the non-bourgeoisie class and the nest of collusion, corruption, and nepotism throughout the administration. Human rights violation in the shape of abduction and suppression of anyone who dare to speak different was beginning to be the focus of rage within the nation.

The powers that be decided that reformation was needed. Preluded by a horrific riot in plenty of business districts, the reformation took place. The regime stepped down and reinstated by one of the crony, although not long after that, the people choose themselves another leader in the shape of Gus Dur, followed by Megawati, and the first time ever Indonesian people able to choose their own leader from a so called ‘the most democratic election ever’ put Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono in RI-1 throne.

What do we have now? Consider the economic growth on 1995, the real GDP grew on average by 8% annually (albeit slightly misleading because it was ‘allegedly’ measured with pretense parameters), while now is a modest 3% and not looking to rise anytime soon. The price is hiking up, Rupiah is still franticly unstable, our ‘honorable’ elected parliament fighting like a bunch of thugs in front of national television, corruption is even more rooted in every corner, crime is as high as ever with bombs and massive riot ready to explode at any time, I could go on forever but it’s getting depressing.

The things is, back then even though the number of corruption was indeed high, yet it seems there’s a certain chain of command, there are little fishes, tunas, sharks, and sitting atop was the smiling killer whale. Like for example, the mayor won’t be richer (more corrupt) than the governor, and the governor bow to the minister, furthermore all of them didn’t take more money than the King and his royal family ties. Now it seems that they are all competing each other, to be a local king of their own and taking as many cake as possible leaving the poor dead and starving (anyway, incase you didn’t notice, it’s just a tongue in cheek expression).

I wonder whether the ‘reformation’ in our collective mind was a country without technocrats? Where the younger generation all budding to become celebrities instead of engineers? Become raunchy models instead of scientists? Become dodgy entertainers instead of teachers? Where naked pictures and sex scene considered art? Hugging and kissing in public places considered human rights (Well, it IS probably, I’m not going to use a moral high ground on this one, because at one point I might be just as guilty)?

What does it mean? Are the students and the people in the wrong by doing the protests that escalated into the fall of Suharto in 1998? Is the condemned regime right after all by saying that in order for the country to develop its economy, there needs to be a stability and a Gestapo-like act is indeed required? Are these fellow cab drivers and probably millions (?) other who share the same feeling stating the truth? I dare not even try to contemplate about it.

Or maybe it’d be better if we just move on, try our best living our life and level of involvement (be it in politics or social) the way we want it, within the boundaries of our principle and just hoping, that some day, some how, Indonesia will get better in time.

The Hunt for a PDA

I was on a meeting with quite a prospective client, when my pen suddenly ran out of ink. It’s pretty embarrassing to borrow pen from your client’s secretary. She gave me that peculiar condescending looks and probably thinking what was I doing meeting with a torn white peace of paper and a rubbish pen to a big boss like hers. Luckily when it’s my turn to present the pages in computer the clients (and the secretary) were pretty impressed so I think I can save my ass a bit there.

It has always been a habit, going to an important meeting without pen or organizer. I had a decent memory so almost all the requirements and data from any client sticks to my mind. But these last few weeks the need to have a decent organizer or PDA is beginning to mount. The budget is there but first I had to ask permission from my wife because she had a veto for any expenses after all. Following several persuasions process, she agreed, but with side note, try and find the cheapest one there is.

At first we thought, it would be just great to pair the PDA with CDMA phone, there has been plenty of recommendation to use Esia, for it’s very cheap and cost effective. Most of the PDA Phone in CDMA Technology was way out of our budget, save one, Audiovox Thera. I search reviews in forumponsel.com etc, all of them said that it’s a decent buy but with major issue in battery power. We took a gamble and got ourselves one. Apparently all Thera in Indonesia is a refurbished product and on top of that, they are from black market, so no warrant available unless the local vendor gives you.

I’ve been playing with the Thera all-night and got very disappointed when I realized about the battery problem. I charged it full for eight hours yet when I woke up the next morning it’s reversed to empty again. We decided to return the PDA Phone and get our money back with slight reduction. I thought it was only fair, than end up with a rubbish gadget, which we have to charge every time we want to use it.

We browsed ITC Kuningan and Mall Ambassador once more for PDA Store and met this kind lady in Palm Point, who offered us a brand new HP Ipaq RZ 1710 for only 1.9 million rupiah, the only problem is that they’re out of stock. She’ll have to call us if its ready stocks once more. She let us browse for a while just in case we could find one with a better price. Apparently not, the others offered no less than 2.4 mil rupiah.

The lady called me in the next two days and asked whether I was still interested. I hurried went to the store and finalized the transaction. She also told me that she had to endure wrath from her boss for letting the Ipaq go at that price (which is very low indeed especially with the rupiah plummet that day). I thanked the lady for her kindness and got home anxious to have fun with the new toy.

Ira was pretty excited too. We had the PDA for two weeks now and it has been a great help and quite a decent investment. Considering the price and functionality, it's a steal really. She’s been to half a dozen meetings with it and found it pretty handy and useful. The 65K TFT resolution is crystal clear. And with Windows mobile 2003, landscape and portrait view is available to almost all applications. Synchronizing with my mac and pc is easy and with the 512 MB SD Card I bought, I can fill it with plenty of mp3s, medium sized movies, and programs so I won’t be looking like an idiot the next time I had to wait for two hours in Plaza Senayan. Basically, in the end it’s considered money well spent.

Keep on Dreaming

I’ve been working on multimedia for more than six years now. I love my job and still really passionate about it. Nevertheless for quite sometime now, I’ve been very thirsty of knowledge in promotions and advertising world, especially TV commercials. We are all influenced to some degree by advertisement and other forms of promotion. From the more conventional way of radio and television ad, to the more-shall we say-‘annoying’ type like telemarketer or even spamming, scamming, and fraud.

As the new millennium looms, we are experiencing perhaps the most vigorous and revolutionary changes of any era in the history of marketing, as well as advertising and promotion. These changes are being driven by advances in technology and developments that have led to the swift growth of communications through interactive media, particularly the internet.

It has been an integral part of our social and economic systems, a vital infrastructure for both consumer and producer/businesses/organizations. We surely remember during the election period, our elite politicians competing each other to gain as much as listener and audience, from corny banner, cheesy t-shirt, to a complex scheme of promotional tool like targeting internet community and full blown ‘road blocking’ spot in every TV channel. Subconsciously when we vote we are somehow affected by it, we probably remember how one goofy looking elderly woman said how much she adore SBY for his good looks in one particular ad.

Not everyone though is sold on the value of advertisement. Some might argue that most ads is more propaganda than information; it creates needs and faults we never really knew we had. Ads suggest that kids won’t succeed without a computer, that our body should be leaner, our faces younger, flak and pimple free. Some ads even more sultry and lewd to the point of rather offensive and made us blush. I don’t want to point any finger but you probably had one or two in your mind.

Ads on occasion can be tasteless, irritating, boring, obnoxious, and so on. Don’t you ever feel like you want to throw your book to the TV, when some noisy little kid with excessively fake happy face repeating her self three times about some sort of wafer thingies? Several studies show that more than two third respondents reported feeling offended by advertising at least sometimes.

Advertising also creates and encouraging commercialism, materialism, manipulating us to buy things we do not really want or need, encouraging the act of spending and together with the bombardment of mass media somehow responsible to a society more money oriented and corrupting our values in life, something amusingly put forward by Fight Club with its psychobabble about ‘the things we own end up owning us’.

What I’ve written above though making advertising more challenging in the future. How rewarding it would be if I can just for once involve in a project to create an ad that both ethical and effective, especially if it’s an award winning one. Hopefully some CEO of a reputable agency read this and give me a call, he he... Well, there’s no fault in keep on dreaming, right?

Of Father and Son

I read somewhere that people generally are divided into two kinds, Bosses and Workers. This has nothing to do with Kiyosaki’s Cashflow Quadrant, where he states about the four kind of workers: Employees, Self-Employed workers, Business Owners, and Investors. The first statement I took (from a particularly forgettable book) just to make my next paragraphs rings true.

I had a sister who will most probably end up to be the first kind, but my father and I are definitely the latter one. As genuine workers, we have a huge trade off for our job and financial security by "losing" our chance to become rich quickly (Unless we win a lottery or something). Dad worked as an employee far in a Celebes remote area for Aneka Tambang, some kind of state owned company. I remember he wakes up every morning and work long hours each day, and always be a hard and dedicated worker without ever being rich.

“At least we make an honest living Heru”, that’s what my father used to say. Yeah, he is an honest and straight as an arrow person. I’m not really sure if I were to be on his position I wouldn’t take plenty advantages from the perk he had during the 30 long years of work in the company. I still remember like it was yesterday, my mom used to complain about how things are so expensive and we don’t have anything special in the house like our neighbors who had a nice sofa and kitchen set or their son playing with expensive gadgets.

Dad now is already retired and stay in Makassar, along with his gold wrist watch as a token of appreciation from his former company. Not content with nothing to do all day, he decided to open up a ‘not so convenient store’ in our home. Using my old room and opening up spaces here and there, the shop was ready to sell anything from shampoo sachets to gallons of mineral water. When I was back at home during the last holidays I watched in tears as my dad while sleepy, patiently dealing with a restless junior customer buying candies with a torn 100 rupiah note.

Watching the store and dealing with the many kind of customers is quite an art. You have to be all smiley and helpful and sometimes content with a few being slightly ignorant. Living in the big cities where ten thousands of rupiah is virtually next to nothing, I used to be a little careless with cash. Something I picked up during my picket time in the shop is that you really have to learn to appreciate money, because you have to work really hard earning every cents.

There’s a popular belief nowadays (with money being the new god) that employees and self employed workers are the worst position to be in. My father may never get rich working this way, but I’m sure that he is happy and proud of what he achieved in his life. How he managed to provide decent education for his son and daughters and still be there for us whenever we needed him. It was 1991 when my high school selection process began and he drove me with his motorcycle as far as 230 kilometers all by himself. I also recall the day he was so dissapointed when i decided to quit military academy to join my uni, yet he keep his loving support thru' the years.

Well, I don’t know about Rich Dad and Poor Dad, haven’t read it. But I love my Dad, rich or poor.