You Snooze, You Lose

Tiredness crept in mercilessly the other night; I slept in a taxi on my way home. The cab driver already missed two toll exits when I woke up. I had shut eye for merely five minutes and by then we were so far away heading for Bandung.

Grouchily, I asked the cabbie to find the nearest exit and look for a return way home. I felt I’ve explained it clear enough about our destination. Alas, he claimed he is new. That is like the joker card in the Taxi world, what more can I say. It was also partly my fault to fell asleep at the wrong time.

I ended up paying four times the usual fare. I couldn’t stop kicking my self later that night.

I remember when we’re just arriving from Paris in Milan. It was three in the morning due to Easyjet excellent service; we arrived at the airport and used a bus for Central station. For a city as big as Milan, the Central was peculiarly dead at that early hour.

Some random Albanian refugees wandered aimlessly from bench to bench. We briefly chatted with a few of them. They seem harmless yet we were alarmed. My wife and I found a bright enough spot and sat there for a while, waiting for the Metro to start operating.

We had three suitcases packed full of the gifts we bought from our previous trip. There were several other passengers sitting around us.

Suddenly someone screamed something in Italian, and as if out of nowhere, three cops came barging in towards our location, and grab a suspicious looking young Albanian. They took him into custody in handcuffs. People were pointing angrily towards the thief and some chosen Italian words were flying towards the man.

I remember thinking in Jakarta he’d be beaten to pulp, or he would not get caught at all (no disrespect to Police here).

We felt safe afterwards. Amazed by the quick reaction of those cops and were pretty sure no one would be dim-witted enough to try anything funny. Lulled by that false sense of security my eyes were getting heavier by the minutes.

I am so sure I was dozed for no longer than one minute, when suddenly I realized one of the suitcases was gone. Anxiously I scrambled towards the exits looking for any sign of the perpetrator but they have disappeared.

With a lot of difficulty, I talked to one of the cops explaining our situations. He shrugged his shoulder in that famous Italian way and believed there’s no hope at all for us to find that bag. He was full of empathy assisting us en route for the Metro when it’s opened.

What a pity really, that bag was full with goodies. Although, in retrospect, we are still thankful that it was not the other bags, which held our laptop and personal data.

It was an annoying blip of an otherwise wonderful trip. Note to self: be careful where and when you’re sleeping.

Crown Jewel of The Equator

I'd really appreciate any comment, suggestion, critique and feedback on this entry. It is a work in progress and I'm hoping to replace all the photos and the articles inside with my own once I get to visit every spot, finger crossed.

Testing Comment System

Hi, Sorry for this. I'm testing the new comment system from Disqus. I think it's kinda cool, you might want to try it on your blog too.

It may be a hassle in the earlier comments, but the system will remember your and visitors' previous data, so we won't have to type our credential anymore. The good thing about this comment system is the direct reply to each post in a threaded manner. It's more user friendly if I may add.

I haven't been able to post anything lately, things are a little hectic at the office front.

I think I'm losing my hearing a little bit due to constant loud music from iPod. Recently, the world seems to be slightly muted. This can be pretty convenient in Jakarta's horn blaring madness. However, during the last office meeting I have to ask a colleague to repeat his question twice, which was embarrassing.

With this progression I'll be losing it completely in near future. Maybe I should put this on my 2009 new years resolution.

I've got a casual comment from a friend the other day about me posting one too many personal stuff in recent journals. I am inclined to agree with him. I'll write some more about Sulawesi and Indonesia in the coming days.

Feel free to leave your comment in here, and thanks for stopping by. In the mean time let me leave you with another personal stuff while we're at it, picture of me and my workstation.

Sight of a Woman

I barely escaped an accident this fine morning. Apparently, my ojek driver was totally distracted by sight of a woman in her translucent nightgown sweeping near the roadside. The driver likes what he saw too much, he missed an oncoming sedan from the opposite corner.

Our bike kissed the sedan face to face. I have to admit both drivers were pretty quick with their reflex. By chance, we all escaped with hardly a scratch. The only thing left was the exchange of angry words from both party. I can laugh at it now, but I’m guessing things won’t be this funny when we break a bone or two.

Now that's what we can call a defined beauty, if one could cause a traffic accident while performing house chores.

A while back, in my omprengan commute, a gorgeous woman in her twenty something sat by my left side. It’s very common to sleep during the whole trip, so did this young lady. Probably because she was still too tired, she slept like a baby and used my shoulder as some short of cushion to her pretty head.

Being a gentleman that I am (cough), I did not shrug her off. However, the temptation was killing me, as her hair was this nice smelling coconut-y. Moreover, you know that high percentage of women’s pheromone coming from the top of their head right? Therefore, you can guess that I was stuck between a rock and a hard place (no pun intended).

I touched my finger in search of the wedding ring to remind myself that I am married. Alas, the ring wasn’t there. I forgot that we had to take it off due to my swelling fat fingers.

So, anyway, I started to occupy my mind with more important and worldly topics. Starvation in Sudan, difficult physics formula, which I scarcely remember any, deadlines looming in the office, and finally I take solace in my favorite subject, footballs and gadgets. I lingered with those thoughts for a while and suddenly we almost arrived in our destination. One hour flew by that quickly.

The young woman and I exchanged polite smile as she departed off the omprengan. I wonder if she did that on purpose. Argh no way, I scolded my self; I am way past that glory days.

Speaking of sight of a woman, we have this consultant guest comes to our office every once a while. She’s a foreigner in her mid forty. She always wears this very low cut see-through dress and has been the talk of the office for sometime now. We can tell that she seldom wears any bra, but I can’t tell you how.

Whenever she speaks to me, I had to look a little bit higher than her eyebrows. I set my eyes just about the top of her forehead. As you know that, our cone of vision spanned approximately around 45 degrees right? That’s how I managed to slalom my way out of staring at her cleavage. She probably thinks I’m a geek, a prude or something.

Apologize for this rather lewd post, my friends. [tongue=in cheek] I’ve just found new respect of life from this near accident in the morning [/tongue].

PS:

• Ojek is a motorcycle taxi used in Indonesia for short distance travel
• Omprengan generally is a mini van type of car, like Suzuki Carry or Daihatsu Zebra. Two sit in front with the driver, four in the middle, and six in the back. It's not a formal mode of transportation, just like ojek.
  

Of Crossroads

Someone who shall remain nameless (pssst, unless you click on this link) tagged me the other day. The title in question is ‘What age do I wish to get back to, and why?’. Friendly word of caution, this entry will be very personal. I might bore you to death; quickly skip it while you still can.

Well, I haven’t heard anyone actually invented the time machine as of late, but if some one did, I would love it if they beam me back to 1994, when I was merely a skinny naïve 17 years old teenager.

In a classic Twilite Zone style, I’d like to correct a couple of choices I made on that particular year. 1994 was a major crossroad in my life, time of big changes and frequent soul searching. I might have wound up in a completely different place altogether in my parallel universe and here’s why.

Right after high school, frantic tests and college applications came thick and fast. I managed to complete the whole Military Academy tests and barely passed. I was already inside their camp and munching those horribly brittle rice and sandal like meat.

Two weeks have gone when I received the news that I got in STT Telkom’s list for Information Technology faculty.

Frankly, it was never my intention to become military personnel. It served plainly as an alternative just in case I didn’t get through anywhere. I was already disillusioned of living inside a dormitory for three years. Another four years would definitely drive me insane.

Therefore, I made up my mind and plead to flee out of the camp. Got me a good slap in return from a two star general no less. Darn it, I toughened my heart; even with a bruised cheek at least I got out.

Just to let you know, I was all alone during this period. My family was hundreds of miles away and communication was minimum at best due to pricey long distance call. I took a bus from Magelang to Bandung for the first time and process the administration to enter STT Telkom. There’s a horrific tale involving some transvestites when I stepped my foot in Bandung soil, but that’s another story.

I rented a room near the campus. It was so cheap I had to sleep on top of the praying mat. To take a bath one needs to sweat first, drawing bucket of water out of a well. Because the fee to STT Telkom was rather expensive, I needed to cut some cost in other places. Those were some rough days.

Several weeks later, the newspaper listed names of people who got through the UMPTN. My name was among the fortunate ones. This was very dilemmatic for me, Architecture Engineering of ITB; a government-subsidized institution was a lot cheaper than STT Telkom. It’s not too shabby either way.

I was inclined to stay at Telkom knowing IT and Communication would be a hot property in the future. However, I sincerely doubt I’d enjoy sleeping on that dingy floor and showering with some dodgy water, as the well mostly covered with mildew and some sort of fungus.

Once again, I made a decision to take my money uptown and gamble towards the elephant campus of ITB. Found me a decent enough room and immediately meeting my soon to be best friends from class of 94. There, for six long years, I was succumbed by landscape sketches, rendering, and building designs. Truth be told, I was not very good at it.

As you probably have known, currently I am not working in the Architecture field at all. During the last nine years, IT has been my bread and butter.

Now what if and this is a big if, back then, I stick to military academy, or the IT Faculty of STT Telkom, where would I end up.

With the time machine given to me by this tag, I’d be able to go back and capture a glimpse of things that may have come to pass, shall I chose the other paths, the road not taken.

Perhaps, looking back to our past might encourage us to be thankful, for our own ‘here and now’.

PS:

• Told you it’s very personal, hope I didn’t put you off and you’ll still be visiting this site next time.
• As with the custom of tagging, I’ll pass this flaming torch to five other bloggers. Their name and address shall be posted in here in coming days. First, I need to confirm that they wouldn’t mind being tagged.
• UMPTN is a test to enter state-owned universities in Indonesia. A lot of luck involved in getting pass that.
  
• Here is the link of the page where I was tagged, if time permits please read it also, good stuff.

Of People and Their Suit

Several weeks ago, I met an old friend. We were sort of best buddies way back then. Since junior high, we went to different high school. After a good 18 years, we meet again in Jakarta. He was always of the brash kind, never shy to speak his mind out of anything.

The meeting went as usual. Although, there are some excerpts of the conversation that was rather disconcerting for me. Here it goes:

Him: Do you go to the office everyday dress like that, Her?
Me: Yep, why?

Him: I don’t know, don’t you think people won’t look down on you?

This was where I felt slightly uneasy. I may not be a very trendy person. However, in my opinion, there’s nothing too wrong with the way I dress. Regular cotton shirt, black pants, no ties and suit but everything was quite clean and comfortable.

Therefore, I ask him to elaborate.

Him: Your bag! Isn’t that akin to what high school kids wear? And, why would you have to fold your sleeve like that? I don’t mean to brag, but when people look at me, they know I meant business. They always think I’m the boss even though I’m only a supervisor in my company.

I was just smiling, completely devoid of any answers on how to respond to that. I was also not in the mood to argue.

Anyhow, I guess it’s perfectly normal that people judge a book by its cover. It happened to us plenty of times, in the mall for example. There’s an apparent distinction of treatment when I walk in wearing a casual dress compared to strolling with a power suit. Sales suddenly started being friendlier and the security guys loosen up.

I just didn’t expect an old friend to be that superficial. He even had the temerity to ask how much I earn in one month! Well, he may look like the boss but perhaps tact and discretion is not his forte.

If I’m being honest, I have been guilty being rather superficial too from time to time. The reason I bought my current gadgets because I wouldn’t want to be the guy who comes in a reunion (be it high school or college) with the lamest hand phone.

It would help a lot if I could just rent suits and gadgets whenever I need it. That way gaining respect would be much cheaper.

On a different note, my wife and I were in an angkot the other day. The driver was this reckless young punk who drives like a drunkard. We spent a good five minutes cussing the driver and praying for our life when all of a sudden the driver stopped.

Afterward he stepped out of the angkot and crossed the road. He then gently took a blind man’s hand and slowly guided him to the other side of the road and under the bus shelter. He even gave that poor blind man some spare change.

This driver was a young chap, with hair like a Mohawk and a torn t-shirt with Rage Against the Machine written on its dirty top.

Me and the missus were sitting there silenced and just stared at each other. Apparently, we have underestimated the man. Although, subsequently, the now highly esteemed driver went on with his brutal way of driving. We didn’t use any bad language this time, we were just praying.

Up until now, I have to remind my self, time and time again, not to judge a person by their dress, their gadget, or by their haircut.

PS:

• Angkot is an abbreviation of Angkutan Kota (City Transportation Mode). Usually it's an MPV Cars such as Toyota Kijang colour coded and numbered based on directions.
  

Of Watching TV

The description of couch potato suits me very well. I spend more than half time of the week to watch any kind of stuff from that idiot box.

I used to read a lot, not anymore.

Although I’m OK with watching the TV by myself, it could be fun watching it with the wife. She is not the type who asks who is the bad guy in The Matrix, however she has a pretty eclectic and difficult taste of her own.

Friends, Scrubs, and Desperate Housewives are certainly her picks. It’s not difficult as they have ‘chick flick’ theme written all over them. Not that I don’t like them, mind you.

I have managed to make her mildly interested in The X Files, by picking some of the best episodes from the saga, which have nothing to do with the main story arc. The X Files for me still reigns as the best program of all time.

Prison Break was a gamble, and it largely succeeded due to the fact that Michael Scofield is a pretty good looking chap. The story being totally intoxicating was also helpful. She was hooked and became a major fan of the series since day one.

She hates 24 and The Office with a passion, while I love both of them with a passion. I mean, Jack Bauer kicking major butts, need I say more? Also, the cringe worthy antics from David Brent and Gareth Keenan are some of the most hilarious comedy in the business.

She’s still lost on Lost. Every time I watch the award-winning sci-fi, she goes browsing over the net or watching some sinetron on terrestrial TV. It is very difficult for me to explain the beauty of flash back and flash forward method they intricately use in Lost. In addition, the love triangle between Jack, Kate, and Sawyer, what’s not to like?

For her, Grey’s Anatomy is just another Melrose Place. For me the interrelationships between the characters serve merely as a spice for the complexity of drama that touches patients and doctors when dealing with a matter of life and death. Granted there’s one too many McCheesy moments in between, but there are riveting storylines in most episodes.

House MD is just brilliant, there’s no question about it and she agrees.

The genius diagnostician’s sarcastic way of dealing with his patients while solving some of the mysterious medical cases ala Sherlock Holmes is indeed the greatest show around these days.

With the three CSI series, there are no problems.

It’s just a matter of who’s the best between Gill Grissom, Horatio Caine, and Mac Taylor. I picked Grissom while she’s smitten with Horatio, which is mind boggling in it self. Because I’m totally fed up with Caruso’s ultra cool way of putting his sunglasses while staring blankly in slow motion.

Yesterday though was a major coup in our TV watching history. I managed to literally drag and shackle my wife to watch Dexter.

I’ve been telling her how awesome this new series this past two months. She just won’t budge. Not only because the star is that quirky gay dude from Six Feet Under, but the opening sequences involving Dexter grinding someone’s skull opened.

Yes, Dexter is a serial killer. Nevertheless, he has a code, a moral fiber, which has been instilled on him by his late foster father to channel his urge to kill, into something worthy for the society.

Not often I can say that people may relate to a sadistic serial killer. However, Dexter, I am sure will be able to steal your heart and in the end cheer for him when he sticks that 6 inches blade in the chest of his victims.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a gory stuff alright. It’s definitely not for the squeamish kind. In fairness, there is humor inside, albeit a dark one, with perfect comedic timing from Michael Hall.

If you haven’t watch it, I suggest you do. You will be entrapped in an absorbing story and end up wanting to see more from our friendly neighborhood serial killer.

Now I only need to rack my brain on ways to get my wife watching organized sports programs.

Of General Sudirman

Baptism by fire is what we call it. Every year our high school orders the students to march 40 km following the footsteps of the Late General Sudirman during our struggle for Independence in 1948.

It was a gruelling task. We stopped only at nights and slept in some tents deep inside the forest. Yet we marched on, motivating each other all the way. We were only young and full of spirit.

To be honest, I didn't really understand the true meaning behind the whole trip at that time. It dawned to us all right, but somehow it got lost due to tiredness and naivety. In my recent surge of patriotism (pardon the sarcastic tone), I started to learn more about this great man and why he's considered as one of the best sons these shores ever produced.

Sudirman is the first Commander-in-chief of Indonesia Armed Forces. It is an even greater achievement considering he was merely 30 years old when President Soekarno appointed him in 1945.

Just like Capt. Miller (Tom Hanks) in Saving Private Ryan, Sudirman was a simple schoolteacher. He got his reputation when he organized a guerilla attack against the British and the Dutch in Ambarawa, forcing them to move away towards Semarang.

Back then, in a vacuum of power after Emperor Hirohito acknowledged defeat, the British and Dutch army tried to wrestle Indonesia as their colony once more.

The recently declared independence made thousands of young men euphoric. They fought hard and long against enemy with a more powerful arsenal. However, these are young untrained fighter. There was an urgent need to elect a leader to coordinate the battle.

Fresh out of big combat, and in control of the largest soldiers with weapons seized from the Japan, Sudirman was chosen unanimously by his peers. Those days were very different. People are able to cooperate with each other and the spirit was awe-inspiring.

It was an interesting choice, because Sudirman have this very unimpressive appearance. He was a thin and quiet man. Yet the other commanders saw in him a mental toughness, charisma, and bravery exceeding that of his compatriots.

Theodore Friend who wrote Indonesia: Peoples and Histories describes him as having "A strangely blended samurai discipline, Marxist disposition, and raw courage." It’s quite a fearsome combination of characters.

“I do love peace, but I love freedom so much more!”
That is the code Sudirman lived and die for.

That quote maybe overused in recent decades, but I always shiver at the thought of those words coming out of this once great General. Just like my eyes glistening every time I watched the end of Braveheart when William Wallace shouted out “Freedom!”

Tuberculosis hampered Sudirman’s effectiveness in battle. Because he was so important to the army morale, his men had to carry him on a legendary palanquin, walking through a hidden route from Jogjakarta to Magelang for hundreds of kilometers. Imagine the hardship. Those men who carried him on their shoulders are also heroes in my eyes.

On the 29 January 1950, Indonesia lost one of her greatest defender. He was buried in Jogjakarta where the government bestowed the National Hero status he thoroughly deserves.

Now I know why my high school ordered us to walk through his footsteps. Now I also know why almost every city in Indonesia have a major street named after him.

PS:

• Jejak Langkah Panglima Besar Sudirman
  

Mom & Pops Store

Trying to avoid post power syndrome, my parents decided to open a tiny Mom & Pops Store following their retirement. It’s rather fortunate that we have a corner house back in Makassar. Soon after finishing renovation the little store ready to sell random stuffs from butter and eggs, to tooth picks.

They were running pretty OK during the first couple of years. Since Dad still has his pension from Aneka Tambang, the store merely serve as something to keep them occupied. Not much profit taking, they don't open in late hours, and the customers are mainly our neighbors.

Recently, as the effect of globalization, lots of Multinational Corporation opens their business everywhere. The result was evident in the wholesale and retail industry. Its growth brings plenty of employment opportunities, generating income for the government, and doing pretty good at moving the wheel of economy in these difficult years.

The flipside of the coin is the expansion of these behemoth businesses engulfed lots of smaller establishments like The Mom & Pops Stores in many places.

Take an example from the tug of war between Carrefour and Hero group. In their effort to increase their business, they open branches far into the rural areas. This ‘invasion’ will eventually swallow millions of small business that has been striving in the neighborhood.

Let’s face it The Mom & Pops Stores tend to cost a bit more due to their inability to purchase a million shampoo at once from the principal distributor. Many people including me prefer anonymous shopping for a lot of things at once. We have to admit that walking in the cool aisle surrounded by gazillion selection of almost everything makes shopping a lot more comfortable.

Recent survey from AC Nielsen shows that people, especially in the big cities, prefer shopping their groceries in modern shopping centre. Traditional markets have count that hundreds of shop closed each year. That would mean, even though plenty of employment opportunities arise from supermarket and hypermarket chain, there are many business closed as the indirect result.

I think it’s about time government regulate the license of opening store chain in hope to level the playing field between major players and the little people. We might want to remember that when we shop in large chain store our money goes to some rich CEO who already makes hundreds of billions rupiah. Not that it’s wrong, mind you.

One thing that could keep these smaller ventures is if and when they can excel in their uniqueness: Their closeness to their market base and customer. The hospitality of the owner is important to keep people coming back. They maybe are 100 or 500 IDR pricier, yet the personal touch, the small talk, and the warm welcome are what separate them from the cold shoulder people get in huge retail store.

If they can keep their edge, they might survive this onslaught of free trade.

We are a bit lucky because my mom, bless her, is a very hospitable woman. It helps a lot to keep the Mom & Pops Store afloat, at least for now.

PS:

• The picture above is of David and Goliath's tale.
• A colleague in the office has Mum who cooks delicious cake.
  Please visit her blog if you want to take a look and maybe order some tasty and yummy cake.