attention..., i'm married!

Well, okay…, calm down…, relax….

No!!!! I want to kill her!!!!!

Wait…, it’s no good. Why should I kill her? I am not supposed to kill any human being. Simply take a look at Exodus 20 of Ten Commandments. ‘Thou shall not kill’. Hem. Hem.

I just hate her.

‘Hate’ is an evil word.

But, it’s natural, anyway. I’m still human.

But I still want to be a tent maker.

But it’s so difficult not to kill her.

What is it that I should kill her?

Because she’s snob. She thinks she knows everything. She thinks she is my boss. She is a garrulous girl. She never stops coming to me to tell this and that and this and that, that simply drive me sick. And ok, worst of all, she is FREAK!

Yeah, I was struggling of above matter last week anyway. Gosh, I have missed one week to write any of my experiences here. I was too tired after working, so when I reached home, the only things I thought were: having the heater on, letting my body rest on sofa, reading a book, consuming any snacks, and turning on television which was unintentionally watched, as a matter of fact. Damn the dishes that should be washed. Damn the electricity fee. Damn my swollen tummy. Damn my unfinished writings. Hehehe....

Ugh…. No, okay, I will not tell you everything that actually happened in my workplace, which had me to want to kill one of my co-workers. I just did feel mad at that day. Yet, at night, before I went to sleep, we (my hubby and I) were having quiet time together. He asked me what I would like him to pray for me. I said, I want God give me patience, I want God give me wisdom of when I have to be angry and how I have to be.

In the following day, I was working with that freak girl again. However, instead of talking to her about anything work-related, I managed to talk to her as a friend, not as co-worker. I had no clue why I did so. Then, here was the conversation:

“Oh my gosh, I stepped on bird’s shit!”
“I stepped on bird’s shit outside!”
A pause.
“Where do you live, Jessie?”
“I live in suburb. Brunswick. Do you know?”
“Do you live by yourself or?”
“I live with my husband.”
Surprisingly. “You live with your husband? You’re married already?”
“I am.”
“So you’re not a student?”
“No. My husband is.”

Another slight pause.
“What time did you wake up in the morning?”
“You mean this morning? About six o’clock.”
“Really?? Wow.”

After the short conversation, the freak girl’s behavior over me has been changed. She became friendlier, nicer and she quitted coming to me just to tell me this and that and this and that. She even asked me whether I had lunch yet or not. Overall, she does not seem to be a freak girl anymore. I told my hubby and cell-group friends about it. They all laughed because the freaking behavior was simply because of her wrong thought - that I was a student, which means to her I was much younger than she is (she is 27 and not married yet, anyway). I am younger than she, but the fact that I am a married woman has changed her behavior over me. Weird, isn't it?


Tuesday, 30 May 2006
9:20 pm

PS: Should I shout to everyone: “Attention! I’m married!” before they mistreat me?? Is the popular statement of ‘don’t judge book by its cover’ no longer heard of?? Please!

indonesia tanah air...?

Indonesia tanah air beta,
pusaka abadi nan jaya
Indonesia sejak dulu kala
s’lalu dipuja-puja bangsa
Disana tempat lahir beta
Dibuai, dibesarkan bunda
Tempat berlindung di hari tua
Sampai akhir menutup mata.

What is wrong with the song above? Yeah, some words are missing. They are not literally missing. They are missing. Ok. Why should I say so? Because it’s true. Look at the first line: Indonesia tanah air BETA. How many people do you know who proudly claim Indonesia as their home-country (count the vague politicians out, please)? Be honest, will you? Let’s keep going on: pusaka abadi nan JAYA. Do you think Indonesia is still your everlasting and jubilant treasure (which was apparently known as the most populous country in the world according to Guiness Book of Record 2003)? The forth line is, I think, the most critical thing to argue : s’lalu DIPUJA-PUJA bangsa. What?? Is it correct? I am truthfully sorry to say that it is INCORRECT. Why? This afternoon, while waiting for the tram to go home after working, I met a male Caucasian (Indonesian people will call him ‘bule’). After we’re having a little chitchatting, he asked me where I come from. I’m physically Asian, you know what I mean? Maybe that’s why he asked me. And what would I say except ‘I am from Indonesia’, which is definitely true? I am from Indonesia. It is where I was born and grown up. Then, he replied, “Indonesia? A lot of troubles in there, huh?”. Shame, shame, shame, SHAME!!! Who said Indonesia is always to be adored or praised or whatsoever related with them? Who said SO?? Indonesia has been well known as a troubled country. I repeat: INDONESIA HAS BEEN WELL KNOWN AS A TROUBLED COUNTRY. But still, all particular people in Indonesia haven’t sincerely realized the miserable fact. Well, they are doing something that they think it will make Indonesia as a better country, like shouting for a justice and integrity for another country under an identity of brotherhood stuff. I mean, what on earth are they doing that for?? Why aren’t they doing something more useful for their own country, which obviously needs more justice and more integrity inside?? I must say, Indonesian people are seemingly too busy to take care of another country much more than to do of their own one, too busy to take care of silly things like RUU APP rather than taking care of poverty, education, disease or everything terrible happened in it.

By the way, let’s not stop just here. We are keeping on: tempat BERLINDUNG di hari tua. Well, obviously you want a SAFE place to stay till you grow old, don’t you? Is Indonesia, our home country, SAFE ENOUGH to live on? Honestly. Please. How many people I know have applied green card or another citizenship in the other country outside Indonesia? Plenty of them. Even some have become citizens of particular countries. I do not blame them, anyway. They want a safe place for their family. They want to stay secured. I have asked few of them why they registered to become citizens of US, Australia, Germany, Singapore, etc and got similar answers. “Everything’s better here, unlike in Indonesia” said a husband. “It’s safer than in Indonesia, I can go everywhere alone by myself. Even at night,” said a female student. “Things go more properly in this country. Indonesia? I don’t think so,” said a wife.

Duh. After all people say something bad about Indonesia, yet I still love it. I still miss it when I am away from Indonesia. Because Indonesia is where I was born and grown up – so much wonderful memories with my family and friends, is where I could find tasty and cheap food which I could not do in other countries, is where I do not need four types of clothes since there are only two seasons in there and the temperature is not terribly changing every day, is where God has put me from the very first time He gave me breath to live. I am not saying: “I love this country, but this country does not love me”, as I will be again reminded of J.F. Kennedy’s statement: “Ask nothing from the country of how much it can give to you, but ask how much you can give to your country.”

Cut Nyak Dien. Pangeran Diponegoro. Ki Hadjar Dewantara. R.A. Kartini. Dr. Cipto Mangunkusumo. Chairil Anwar. Soe Hok Gie. Harry Roesli. Munir. Those are people who have printed their lives on the history hall of Indonesia to make this country the place to be. Who’s next?

We are seeking (a) hero/es for the country.

Basic Qualifications:
- Previous experience is not essential
- Possessing sincere heart and integrity
- Strong mental is essential
- Any tribe and religion, as long as born and grown up in this country, will do
Specific Qualifications:
- Must be willing to learn about priority matter(s)
- Must be willing to be unsupported by lavishness facilities; for instance: a house with maids, a car with driver, air-con. office, etc
- Must be genuinely interested in supporting Indonesian people generally, not particular groups (remember: dari rakyat, oleh rakyat, untuk rakyat)
- Must be able to manage working unsupervised
- Must be willing to work odd hours
- Must be willing to sacrifice probably family and even personal life

Monthly Rate:

Please send your cover letter and resume to:
Shadow Human Resources of Indonesia
PO BOX 4696
Zip code 69148

Tuesday, 16 May 2006
03:58 pm

eating disorder


I’m not getting fat now. I am FAT. Look at my swollen tummy. It is really swollen, believe me. And I’m not definitely pregnant at the moment. So how is my tummy swollen, by the way?? Even my hubby told me I am chubbier than ever.

Let’s say: I’m now working, which actually can help me over getting as usual. Not fat, not thin. So? I think I have been spoiled in eating disorder. I mean it. I LOVE eating here. I LOVE food. Any food will do. And for your information, food serve, here in Melbourne, of any restaurants is pretty bulky. I could not finish it when the first time I came here. I have got used to it now, anyway, ha ha.

I still have meal three times a day, though. Two slices of bread every morning, consumed with a glass of hot chocolate. I do LOVE a glass of hot chocolate, especially sipped in a freezing morning before I go to work. I still consume a plate of rice with some meat and veggie on it for my lunch and dinner. Not mention of snacks, like chips, biscuits, wafers, etc. Working at restaurant apparently makes me craving on food. It is really, really, really, really enjoyable to lay myself on sofa reading a book and munching some snacks, especially right after working almost 8 hours a day.

So what am I supposed to do on account of my eating disorder? I mean, my family and friends in Indo will not recognize me once I fly back and see them at the end of the year because I will be just too fat and too chubby to do.

And I LIKE sleeping as well – right under my warm and thick blanket in this freezing season! I hate autumn as well as winter (autumn has been really cold already, so how’s the coming winter, by they way???). I prefer summer, or spring, maybe. At least summer and spring will not have us more afraid about electricity fee and everything.

Oh, how ungrateful I am, aren’t I, though? This life I am living on is a life I dreamt few times ago. But why am I SO disgruntled all the time? And why even though I hate the weather around here, I still plan to come back again to this city next year – apparently to grab a scholarship of master degree in media studies (hopefully!)?

Gosh… I hope I won’t be this fat when the time comes for us to fly back to Indo. I really, really, do hope so.

Monday, 15 May 2006
07:26 pm

PS: Oh, and I found one TASTY food which I will absolutely miss when I have to go back to Indo: Japanese Seaweed Salad. It’s damned nice, you know.

interview with the tent maker

The following absurd interview was recorded in the middle of nowhere.

Stitch the Interviewer (STI) : Hi, Jc. How’re you?

Jessie the Tent-maker (JTT) : Hi, Stitch. Very well, thanks. You?
STI : Same as you. Right. What are you doing now?
JTT : As usual. I’m a housewife, remember? So I’m still doing my job as a full-time housewife.
STI : I thought you’ve got another job after escaping from the Mr. L?
JTT : Well, it’s so funny that you tell me escaping from that horrible workplace…. Anyway, yes, I’ve got another job already. Just a part-timer.
STI : Tell me about your new job.
JTT : I work in Japanese Restaurant, you know, thanks to Ronald, one of my friends here who helped me proceed to the restaurant.
STI : Is it easier from the previous one?
JTT : You mean in Mr. L’s? Not much. Not that easy, though not too difficult. But, yeah, I’m using your term, I won’t escape again. I would like to try my best.
STI : Is there something to do with what you said to me that you’re a tent-maker as well?
JTT : Did I say to you? Hemm….Sure, I am a tent-maker.
STI : What are you trying to tell me? So you’re making a tent in Japanese restaurant?
JTT : Of course not! It’s not a literal meaning, you know. You surely know the apostle Paul, rite?
STI : Yeah….
JTT : I mean, after God called him to be a full-time gospel preacher, he’s still doing his job as a tent maker. But the difference is that he was also sharing the good news of Jesus the Savior to his customers while he’s working. There’s an illustration the preacher in my church gave me, in which Paul would have knocked off the price of making tent up to 50% if his customers had listened to what he said about Jesus.
STI : I see. So you’re trying to say that…
JTT : … you can be a blessing wherever you are, whatever you do. Even in your workplace.
STI : Is that what you’re going to do in your current workplace?
JTT : Yes, I am. It’s not easy, though. I’m always afraid and worried to deal with another staffs that seem not too friendly to me. As if I’m not welcome there and of course it sometimes drives me mad. The first two days I worked there, they ordered me to wash all the dirty dishes. I mean, we all think that it’s a very easy job, do we? It’s not easy at all. They told me I was a very slow dish-washer, which made the other staff get extra-job to finish mine. I never think that even to be a waiter or a dishwasher is not that simple. I learn to appreciate such profession, you know.
STI : You’re still afraid and worried every time you go to your workplace?
JTT : A bit. But then, I remember what Inge once said to me. I’m an infectious disease.
STI : Pardon me? You are an infectious disease?
JTT : I am.
STI : Are you sure it’s not a nag?
JTT : Absolutely not. Again, it’s not a literal meaning. She said that I’m an infectious disease because I can transfer what I’m feeling to people around me very easily. Like, if I were in a bad mood, I would make my friends feel my bad mood, then they were in a bad mood too. If I were sad, they would be sad too. If I were in spirit, they would be in spirit with me. If I were cheerful, simply laughing on a silly joke, smiling to a grim friend, they would be happy together with me. See? I’m an infectious disease. And I want to be an infectious disease in my current workplace as well.
STI : That’s a bit dreamy…. It’s not as easy as talking.
JTT : Who said it’s easy? I didn’t. But it’s better to do than to talk only, isn’t it? And who said I will be alone to be a good tent-maker as well as an infectious disease? God be with me. That will do.
STI : Ok. Glad to hear you say that.
JTT : And, oh, one more, I think I’ve made an improvement this week. I didn’t leave too much dishes for another staff to finish. Just two boxes and a bowl. And I would have finished all of them in a couple of minutes if another staff who took over my job after me had not urged me to leave all of them to him. Ouwww… he’s so sweet….
STI : Stop it. You’re a married woman!
JTT : Sure I am! And?
STI : Well, (giving up) whatever, I need to finish this interview. See you around, Jc.
JTT : See ya.

Thursday, 11 May 2006
04:23 pm

love you, mom...

The following scene was taking place almost 18 years ago. However, it still preciously stays in my memory as if it were just happening.

A 7-year-old little girl was browsing her wardrobe for a dress to go to Easter celebration at church. Her mom suddenly cropped up and told her that she had prepared a fancy gown for her. When the girl saw the peach gown her mom brought, however, she did not seem pleased to wear it, for she, as a matter of fact, did not like to wear a gown. She preferred casual dress with no lace on it. “Mom,” she said. “Are you sure I should be dressed in that kind of gown?” “Sure, why not? It’s beautiful for a little girl like you.” “I do not like the sponges of it on my shoulder.” “No problem, Mom will remove them for you. Just wait a second, Mom should do something else first.” The girl sat still, for a minute. Oww.., what a naughty and impatient girl she was. When she found her mom still not coming in another minute, she grabbed a scissor and started to remove the sponges by herself. And something fairly serious happened. She knew it. Before she could do something else, her mom turned up and saw her frightened face. “What happens, dear?” Absolutely startled and suddenly trembling, the girl said, “I’ve done it, Mom.” “Done what?” “I’ve removed the sponges, but then… there is, there is a tiny hole….” Her mom made a gasp and took the gown. There it was an obvious ‘tiny’ hole upon the sleeve of the gown. “Why didn’t you wait for Mom to do it?” said her mom furiously. “You definitely could not go to church with this gown! You’ve ruined it. What would you wear this evening?? How would you not obey your mom?? I bought it for you and you messed it up!!” The furious mom withdrew the awkward little girl, taking the ruined gown with her. Feeling undoubtedly guilty, sorry and sad, the little girl was sitting on her bed in silence. Then her little feet instinctively brought her to her mom’s room. Behind the door, she saw her mom sitting on her bed, seemingly crying. “Mom…,” called the little girl apologetically, and was nervously tiptoeing to approach her mom, who seemed not to hear her. However, when she was about to touch her mom’s hand, the hand suddenly grabbed her and hugged her. She even somewhat believed that she heard a quiet sob. The little girl stood frozen in her mom’s hug but felt suddenly comforted though she had really no idea about what was happening. No word of sorry, no mutter of apology. Yet one thing she could take it for sure, her mom had forgiven her for the naughty thing she did.

Yes. That is a piece of story about me and my mom years ago. Time flies so fast, eh? Now she will not furiously shout at me because of the same mistake. Well, the city’s preparation to look forward Mother’s day next two Sundays has reminded me to my mom. A mom as well as health critic as well as a best friend as well as a best secret keeper as well as impermanent enemy as well as Sunday school teacher as well as informal music teacher. Gosh, I miss her talkativeness – the way she asked me to have meal when I was young, the way she asked me to have a shower, the way she asked me to study because I was too lazy to do at that time, the way she expressed her curiousness on me when I got a call from a male friend, the way she agreed to keep my secret from my dad, the way she supported me to go to college in Surabaya even though that meant I would be away from her. Somehow I thought I have not done anything much for her. Yeah, admittedly even after she was seriously ill and could not be like she used to be, I often overlook her. I rarely give her a call either just to say hi or ask something to show that I care for her. I even said “I love you” to her just once in my lifetime. Too bad.

Few days ago, when I was walking on the street of the city, waiting for the tram, I stood in front of jewelry store taking an unintentional look on the display. A lot of fancy gold necklaces with lockets engraved by ‘I love you, Mum’ or ‘For Mum’ or ‘For Grandma’ or ‘Love you, Mum’ are attractively displayed. Jewelry could be a classy gift to a mother or grandmother in Mother’s day. And most of them are discounted. I would love to purchase one, though. It is plainly cheap. And moreover, they have reminded me to say ‘I love you’ to my mom.

My mom is not a perfect human. Sometimes she can make me sad, make me angry, make me upset, make me disappointed, make me think that she actually doesn’t love me. Yet, she is a perfect mom for me. How many times have I made her also sad (when I offensively refused to discuss a family matter with her), made her upset (when I did not call her for almost one month), made her disappointed (when I got bad marks during school time because I would not study as she asked me to do), made her think that I do not really love her at all (when I forgot to simply reply her message and refused to go home during holiday to see her), more than she did to me I suppose and she always forgives me. However, before the next two Sundays which is widely celebrated almost around the world as Mother’s day, I am going to call her just to say that I love her so much.

Have you told your mom that you love her even though sometimes she makes you seriously distracted? Well, tell her. Before it is too late to say.

Thursday, 4 May 2006
9:19 pm

She used to be my only enemy and never let me be free

Catching me in places that I knew I shouldn't be
Every other day I crossed the line I didn't mean to be so bad
I never thought you would become the friend I never had

Back then I didn't know why
Why you were misunderstood
So now I see through your eyes
All that you did was love

Mama I love you, Mama I care
Mama I love you, Mama my friend
You're my friend

I didn't want to hear it then but I'm not ashamed to say it now
Every little thing you said and did was right for me
I had a lot of time to think about, about the way I used to be
Never had a sense of my responsibility

-taken from 'Mama' by Spice Girls