AN SMS FROM ROME

Sarah is in Rome for her summer holiday this year, and I envied her so much. Well, it was a fleeting feeling because I know how she wishes I were with her there. We used to talk a lot about going to Italy together.
“Greet Francesco Totti for me,” I said.
“Totti or Pope?” she asked.
“Nah, just Totti,” I answered. I’m not a big fan of Pope, anyway.
On the second day she was still thinking about me, by sending another sms, asking who my most fave player was. She said she was looking for another birthday gift, because the one she previously sent, unfortunately, never showed at my door (due to the unreliable service of our postal system). I told her not to bother, because like Teresa said, it’s the thought that really counts.
Suppose I were in Rome, I will not sing the song Home like Michael Bubble does.

Another summer day, has come and gone away,
So is Paris and Rome
But I just wanna go home

Because I don’t think I will ever want to go home if I were in Rome. So, I’ll change the last sentence (I sang other verses just the same when I am on the survey trips, and when couldn’t help missing home).
The first time I’ll do there, is running to the famous Fontana di Trevi, throwing three coins (who knows the Prince will suddenly come riding his white horse?), and shed a tear or two there. And after I’m finished with all the sentimental stuff, I’ll run to Olimpico to be a freaky tifosa. Maybe then I’ll be lucky enough to see Totti or De Rossi.

A STORY OF OLLIE, THE BIG-HEARTED GOALIE

As I spent some time at home reading the stale sport news, I came across a great story I missed out (for remember, I missed all the quarter finals, and it started then).
Among lots of stars with ill-behaviors, Oliver Kahn was like a rose among the thorns.
The world cup slogan, A Time to Make Friends, seemed to be so real to him, who chose to change a heated rivalry into a beautiful friendship.
Ollie was well-known as a great but stubborn, selfish, and arrogant star. Some had thought the guy would rather kill himself than not be the number one, but to our surprise, he was still willing to join Der Panzer in the last World Cup. The one who was awarded the best player in World Cup 2002 (imagine, a goalkeeper got that!) humbled himself low enough to just sit on the bench and watched and feel sad (if you’re a substitute goalie on a big tournament, you’ll know so well you will not play at all unless the main goalie is dead), after became the number one, plus the captain (which was taken from him by Michael Ballack), for so long.
“It was the lowest phase in my career,” he admitted.
His biggest enemy then was not one of the strikers from the opposite teams, for he knew he would not be the one saving the net which had been his home. No, not them, but Jens Lehmann, the one who took his main place on the team because age had taken its toll.
Some wanted their rivalry to be hotter by saying comments like this one, “Ohh, didn’t I see a smile on Kahn’s face when Lehmann was defeated?”, but all the cynics’ comments were silenced when Ollie stood up and came to Lehmann, shook his hand and pat his shoulder, as a sincere encouragement before the penalty shoot-outs against Argentina. And Ollie also was the one consoling Lehmann after they lost tragically against Italy on the semi-final, just two minutes before the game ended.
And Jens Lehmann, was also noble enough to respond as warm as the hand being reached out to him. He, who previously said he deserved the number one better than Ollie, gave up his place to his now true friend, knowing it would be something he wanted the most before saying goodbye to his professional career as a footballer. Jens wanted Ollie to play in a game for the third position, which they finally won, not only as a sweet memory of the last game, but also of an end of enmity, and a start of a life-long fraternity.
The arrogance of Ollie is now gone, and his heart is much bigger because of that. He was awarded his old position, as a goalkeeper and a captain (for Ballack was injured), and a standing ovation from all of the audience.
What example he set! What a legacy! And that’s how a true star should be – sparkling with love, not enthralled by hatred or vengeance.

IL BRACCIALETTO ITALIANO

Questo e' il braccialetto Cristina mi hai mandato dall'Italia per il mio compleanno. Mi piace moltissimo, e' bellissimo. Azzurro e' il mio preferito colore. Grazie, Cristina! Anche sei un tesoro per me!

This is a bracelet that my Italian friend Cristina sent me for my birthday. It's so lovely. I wore it to church last Sunday and my sister whispered to me during the service.
"It's so gorgeous."
"It's from Italy," I whispered back.
"What? Fabio Grosso sent it to you?" she shrieked.
I chuckled. "I dont know him that well."

A FORTUNATE AMATEUR WRITER

That is me!
I wrote my first kid story after I heard the story of Zacchaeus and how he was changed after meeting Jesus.
And this story was translated into 3 languages, English, Italian and German, with the aids of my sweet friends: Teresa (in America), Sarah (Switzerland), Sissi (Germany), Michele and Annalisa (Italy). Except Sarah, actually I have never met the others in person. No, not yet. Yet they’re so dear to my heart because we’ve been friends and shared stories for so long. They are all my penpals with who I have corresponded for years.
And the final touch was also great. My ex-colleague in a book store where I used to work, Deasy, made some cool illustrations for it.
They all made me feel so fortunate, as an amateur writer.

FISH, SUPER SWEET TEA, AND CHAIN SMOKERS

After spending ten days going from island to island, visiting village to village, I was really sick of eating fish (not too often actually, but sea food is never my favorite), sipping super sweet tea they offered at every house we visited, and murdering myself slowly, being surrounded by chain smokers. Some of them said it would be better for him to break up with his love than to break his smoking chain. Oh, my!

But I took delight in the motor boat rides back and forth to the small island. It was not too short to be dissatisfied of wanting more to still float, but not too long to start feeling the sea sick. I loved feeling the wind blowing my hair, and the fresh sea water splashing to my face through the slightly open window. And I loved staring at the deep blue ocean around our small boat. Never seen any water so blue like that.

And I couldn’t help thinking about the tsunami victims. The sea had been their source of life, but then suddenly it hit them with death. Hundreds, even thousand of death. It took their belonging and beloved ones. I wonder how long it will take until the survivors can enjoy the sea again, without any trauma or sorrow.

It’s so funny how people in Java were in panic over the potential tsunamis or earthquakes that now seemed to be able to happen everywhere, and there I was, out in the sea, wishing I could be near it as often as possible, because it was so beautiful.

The following day I had another boat ride, it was longer, but still pleasant. The color gradation of the water really took my breath away. I was so amazed to see how direct the deep blue turned into light greenish blue when there were tiny islands with corals surrounding them. Very pretty.

I had to speak in front of lots of people who were gathered formally by their leader, some ladies kissed me when we said goodbye. They were the smallest village of all, yet they took us very seriously. I was sad to learn that in all the villages we visited, the local language we were surveying is dying, because Indonesian has been invading and replacing it more and more. One thing those villagers didn’t know was, that kids who grow up as bilingual or trilingual are usually smarter than the monolinguals.

As usual, we had to sleep at many inns and houses, and it was getting worse as we went further to the more isolated areas. In some beds, I was ruthlessly bitten by some invisible bugs. I have a very sensitive skin that gets irritated or itchy very easily, so it was torturing me. And as we went into many different bathrooms, we often asked each other, “is the bathroom civilized?” before going there ourselves (the sweet tea made our bladder short, of course). It is funny how our ‘standard’ of calling the place civilized went lower and lower. As long as there was a hole and relatively closed, we called it civilized.

Well, I’m not a city girl nor a Jane. And I prefer the freshness of the sea or the green forest to a polluted city of course, but after more than a week in the boonies I found myself missing Jakarta. And after a few weeks in the office working on boring reports, I usually miss the adventures. But I think I shall be happy living in a smaller city like Bandung, for example. Ohh, after too much traveling, I don’t really know where I belong now.

ON THE BOAT

I don’t have many pictures on my trip this time. It was my mistake. After taking the pictures of the plane, I stuck the camera in my backpack, and not in the equipment bag where I took it from. And because the following day we had to leave by a small plane with a maximum baggage not more than 10 kg, I had to put aside some stuff and leave it in Palu. And guess what, the camera was accidentally left within my backpack.
Ah anyway, I don’t usually get great pictures unless Sandra is with us.

By the way, we chose the small aircraft (with lots of turbulence and noise) because we didn’t want to risk losing our head, or letting any bullet pierce our heart. No, I’m not trying to exaggerate. If we went by land, we had to cross the supposedly most conflicted area in Indonesia where there might be lots of snipers, and where several people were beheaded.

Well, we finally arrived at a small town where we took a small ferry at 9 pm to float for 8 hours. We spent some time at the deck, staring at the dark night with cloudy skies. Still, many stars were sparkling, showing off their beauty up above. The darkness was so thick, so it was as if we were sailing through nothing but the emptiness. Kinda reminding me of Prince Caspian’s sail in one of the Narnia’s books, “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader” where they sailed to find the 7 lords. I felt like I took part in Eustace and The Pevensies’ adventure, or one of the famous five’s.

Our cabin reminded me of the barrack at nazi’s concentration camp, maybe slightly better with colorful bed sheet and pillows and bolster and a fan. It was hard for me to climb to the top bunk bed and I spent the whole night trying not to fall as we swayed and rocked and shook.

To ease the sea-sick I was getting, I stood at the deck enjoying the cold winds. As I looked down to see the roaring white sea-foams below, I felt sad because I remembered The Little Mermaid and her tragic story, of how she turned into the foam because her love to the prince was unrequited. But looking up to the glowing stars, I felt consoled when I remembered The Little Prince and his best friend, and how one of them promised to smile whenever he sees the stars and remember his friend, who was one of the stars itself. Maybe it is so with this life. If we only see the dark side, looking down on our problems and anxieties, we will be saddened and weighed down, but when we try to see the bright side, looking up to the sky where help comes and hope sparkles, we will be comforted.

I’D RATHER FLY WITHOUT WINGS

“Fly is cheap” is their motto. I learned that it doesn’t really talk about the price (which is far more expensive than other domestic flights), but reveals their character in serving the passengers.

It was my first flight with Wings Airlines (and I hope the last one). The plane was late, and I was starving to death. I thought they would serve lunch because the flight was relatively long, and the ticket was costly. Other cheap flights would, at least, give some snacks. But this one apparently was too cheap to do so. They didn’t give us anything to eat, but a small cup of mineral water.

“Well, I’m surprised,” I said. “The fare is not cheap.”
“Not cheap, you said?” said a man seated next to me. “This is robbery!”

With my rumbling stomach (even after I had some Oreo Double Delight from my generous colleague), I tried to sleep. It was so cold and they didn’t have any blanket. I just wanted to cry. I was about to doze off when the stewardess nudged me, only to ask me to get my empty cup, and it was within her reach as well.

I got off the plane furious, and took some pictures to go along with this post. Well, they’re not good pics. Well, I mean, what do you expect to get done when you’re tired, sleepy, angry and hungry?

A DAY OF UNA TIFOSA ITALIANA (I MEAN, INDONESIANA!)

The first midnight in Jakarta (after Bengkulu trip), I was all ready to root for Italia…
Yea, vado pazza per ITALIA! Forza ITALIA!!! We love gli azzurri!

Vai Luca Toni, vai!!!!!! Sei bravissimo!

YEA, IT'S ALL WORTH IT!

And all the hustle bustle in finding that shirt, staying up til midnight until 5 am, the sores all over my body, the poisonous smoke of the cigarettes that I had to inhale, and the voice I was about to lose….were paid off, when Pirlo, Del Piero, Materazzi, De Rossi, and Grosso scored successfully in the penalty shoot out! (Sorry France, no support for the diving and headbutting experts!)

WELL DONE, MY FAITHFUL SERVANTS

So glad this tiring (but exciting) trip is finally over!

SOME INTERMEZZO ON THE ROAD

Hey, we also need a break!

Maybe to enjoy the dusk in the long beach, Bengkulu (first day)

Or take part in durian orgy…hmmm yummy! In Jakarta, durians are luxuries, but in the village, they are very cheap, and so we could eat it to our hearts’ content!
(cant help feeling sorry for those who cant stand it!)

I almost missed the bold and beautiful sunset on our 8th day (second Sunday)…Gina was distracted by the sugar cane seller, but I managed to rush and saw it before it disappeared, so fast! I tried several times to take picture while running, zooming and sighing. So, don’t give me credit for this one (it was taken by my colleague)

We also found a river with hot spring water nearby. The water was boiling, and the rocks were hot! Our driver put an egg in it and a minute later it was done! We had our lunch there, sitting at the rocks (not the hot ones) and playing with the water with our feet. On our way back, I slipped and fell (luckily I was not holding any camera and the water was not the hot one). I scratched my knee and skinned my finger.
(A minute before that happened, I still could smile and pose with Sandra)

THE FEET OF A DANCER VS OF A SURVEYOR

This is my right foot with nails neatly polished, and decorated with a friendship anklet Sarah gave me last year. And I started every dance using that foot….

But when I am surveying, I have to forget that pretty foot, because after wading in the mud, it became like that!

And oh man! How it became itchy witchy that I kept scratching it during the night after!

On the last day of Bengkulu trip, Sandra told me to rub my feet with the sand, hopefully they will be smooth again, and I will get my dancer feet back!

THE SURVEYOR’S STRUGGLE

To be a good surveyor, you need to be tough!

Little I knew about this, when we just set out to walk along the beautiful paddy fields on that lovely morning.

I even managed to turn around and pose for Sandra, the best picture taker I’ve ever known.

Then one challenge started…. (balance..balance..balance…)

And then another…….. (it’s kind of fun, though)

And I felt like in the fear factor show (if only there had been crocodiles in that river!)

And ah! Finally, the pictures of me working! (thanks Sandra and Kristina!)
Remember, the process also counts, not only the result!

GAJAH….GAJAH…AND GAJAH……!

How cute and smiley those big animals are!



I have decided that gajah (elephant) is my fave animal. One of my Mom’s fave story about my childhood is when they took me to the zoo for the first time, and they lost me. I actually don’t remember being lost in the zoo, but Mom and Dad recounted that story many many times, of how they panicked and started searching for me, only to find me squatting in front of the elephant’s den, staring at them with bulging eyes. Amazed.

Never thought I would ride on their back someday, though it was always one of my childhood dreams.

During my trip to Padang, we dropped by Bukit Tinggi and saw a zoo with a big board saying: Horse ride Rp. 5000, Elephant ride Rp. 3000. Sandra and I were rushing to the officer to ask about it, and we were stunned to learn that the elephant had died. Maybe too much being ridden.

The first time was in September last year, when I went to Thailand with my colleagues. I made a mistake of spending the rest of my baht to join a tour (that was a fiasco and didn’t include elephant’s ride), and that night I was very sad to think that I would miss the opportunity to ride an elephant while I was in Chiang Mai. Fortunately smart Sandra offered a solution and there we were….riding my fave animal in the drizzle.


I told myself that though it was very exciting, I actually wanted to sit right on their back, and not in a chair like that.
God listened to my secret wish. Watch this!

On my first day in Bengkulu, I was surprised to see a couple of elephants roaming around along the beach, taking the kids on their back, and it was very cheap (less than a tenth of the elephant ride in Thailand).
The elephants’ names are Dino and Natasya, the pets of the owners of the cottage we were staying. I told Kristina and Gina that I wanted an elephant as a pet, but I wanted it to be forever small (to save space). When I learned about how much it cost to feed an elephant, I changed my mind. I don’t think I can afford it. Anyway, we made friends with the owners and they invited us to come and feed them. They usually go to the school every morning, to learn the trick and also learn how to play football. Maybe someday there will be a World Cup tournament for the elephants and I bet Indonesia will win.

The next Sunday, we were at the same cottage again, after touring the area. And the elephants were still there, tempting me to ride on them again. But this time, fatigue defeated my desire, as I just wanted to sleep. Sandra arrived that day, she came late because she had just gotten back from visiting her boyfriend Daniel in the US. I told her about the elephant, but never thought we would get a chance to have a ride.

But we did!
The next Sunday (They’re only available on Sundays, by the way), we were there again, and it was our last day in Bengkulu. Sandra had been expressing her desire to ‘naik gajah’, but we doubted if we could because they’re only available at 11, and our plane was leaving at 12.
We spent the morning worshipping as a group near the beach, and as Sandra and I walked towards the cottage, we saw Dino and Natasya again! And it was only around 10. We were scared if there would be a long line, but when I asked the guides if we could ride, they let us right away. Sandra was about to hop on Natasya’s back, but she was gracious enough to let me taste the ride with her now, because I had ridden Dino before.

Just a minute before the ride was over (and time to catch our plane back to Jakarta!), the guide asked me to pose on Dino’s foot, and here’s the result (It’s not that I needed to go to the bathroom, but he flapped his ear and it hit my head!)

SHY SUNRISE AND NAUGHTY WIND AT SANUR BEACH

My schedule in Bali was so tight that I only had time to explore either early in the morning or late at night.
So one morning I woke up early and went to Sanur with a hope to see a beautiful sunrise.
But alas!
The weather was not too friendly. The wind blew hard and the flying sands hurt my feet as I shivered along the shore.
The sky was cloudy and the sun was timid. Still I wanted to pose.

And I found some white flowers we call Kamboja here (usually found in the funeral, but Balinese wear them behind their ears), laying on the ground. I picked one and tried to pose like Balinese girl, but the wind was so naughty. It took my flower away, and I kept chasing it like a fool. Every my time reached out for it, it just went further. So I gave up and picked another one. And it stayed in my ear long enough until the camera clicked.

VIVA ITALIA!!!!!!!!!

Right now I am too tired to write anything, but I am sooooooo happy and thrilled because Italy won!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Viva Italia!!!!!!!!!

THINGS I’VE JUST LEARNED ABOUT PAGLIUCA

After more than 11 years rooting for one of the best goalie in the world, Gianluca Pagliuca, who kindled my love for Italy in the first place, I thought I had known ‘almost’ all about him.
But, I was surprised to learn several new things about him while reading his cool unofficial web (www.vivapagliuca.com). There’s some good and bad news.
Good news: he intends to play as long as possible, and then open up a goalkeeper school in his hometown Bologna… (Italy will surely have lots of great goalies in the future, in say, 14 years to come, I’m expecting one of them to be Mattia Pagliuca, his own son)
(According to my Italian source, there’s also a rumor that Inter might recruit him for the next season. Sure he’ll sit on the bench most of the time, but that is fine…it will be cool to see him again with La Beneamata, the team he played for when I started to like him)
He also owns a resto in Milan, which he runs with Simona Ventura. I have to go there someday for a nice dinner ehehehe… but I bet it must be very pricey.
Bad news: someone has already written his biography (Gianfranco Civolani), titled ‘Pagliuca, una vita da numero 1’. Why is it bad, because I had wanted to be the first to do so (mimpi!!!). Naah, it was and is still in my ‘fancy’ rather than ‘dreams’ category. Anyway, would love to read it!

ITALY OH ITALY…….. (A BLOODY RED GAME)

Sadly, this is going to be my last blog post about the world cup before I’m traveling tomorrow.
Sadly, last night Italy failed to get three points because the score was tied 1-1. Both goals were netted by two Italian players. First, Gilardino scored from the free kick taken by Pirlo, but then the USA attacked consistently that the Italian defenders seemed to be nervous about that and eventually Zaccardo made a fatal blunder, kicked the ball to their own goal.
If the Italians thought that things could not get worse, they were definitely wrong, because soon after that, the hot-tempered De Rossi let his elbow fly too high and made McBride’s nose bleed hard, and of course he got a red card for that.
Weird enough, rather than taking advantage playing against 10 people, the Americans followed De Rossi’s example. They played rough and eventually had to play with 9 people after two of them were also sent off.
However, I must admit that USA played much better than when they faced the Czechs. Their strategy in guarding every Italian striker worked really well. Lippi’s decision to replace Totti with Gattuso was quite right, but still Italy could not score any more goal, thanks to Keller.
This result made the competition in group E more interesting, because I heard Ghana won against Czech Republic. Italy is still in the top position with 4 points, but they have to win next week to go to the next round.
It was funny because I read Ryan’s email in the afternoon, calling Italy lousy because they’re too busy taking care of their hairstyle, and it made me pay close attention to their hair. I don’t think it’s true, though. No one seemed to have a fancy hairdo, compared to several players in some other teams. They seemed to be natural to me, no too much hair gel (even Cannavaro and Del Piero don’t have too much hair now!). They’re just handsome as they are, and it’s not their fault.
Btw, I loved the way Gilardino celebrated his goal, maybe he likes to play violin. I noticed there have been so many goals resulted from the free kicks. I saw Deco made one for Portugal yesterday. Actually I missed the first 30 minutes of the first round of Iran vs Portugal. Gina and I went out to have dinner together in a place not far from our neighborhood. After that she came up with an idea to have a gelato in a mall around the corner, so off we went there in our pajamas and flip flop, mixing with other nice-dressed people roaming in that fancy mall spending the Saturday night. But as Gina quoted from the book she’d read, we women have to be confident, and so we decided to put it into practice.
We went inside a gelateria, decided to share a small cup of buonissimo gelato and sat in the big table for six people right facing the TV with other visitors behind us, also watching soccer, and Gina lost her confidence. Just imagine, we didn’t buy much, but we were hogging the biggest table in the front row licking our ice cream and staring at the screen surrounded by many well-dressed people only in our pajamas and flip-flops!
So we decided to go home, after dropping by the music store (in which I was unable to resist the temptation to buy a CD of The Corrs’ Irish traditional songs-I loved it anyway), and watched the rest of the game together.

STILL, MY HEART GOES FOR..............

And they're playing at 2 am tonight (or tomorrow morning) against USA! Sorry, my American friends, but as you all know I'm always all about ITALY!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yea azzurri!!!!!!!!!!

GREAT GAMES LAST NIGHT!

The Argentines definitely indulged their fans by scoring 6 goals (3 in each half time). Poor Serbia-Montenegro, even Savo Milosevic could not do much to save his country from shame, esp after one of their players got a red card. The goals were all beautiful, but because there were too many of them, I could only remember the last two ones. Messi assisted Crespo to score, and then netted a goal himself. I think the presence of Maradona helped boost their spirits.

The indulgence continued as Cote d’Ivoire gave a good fight to the oranje team. Had they had a little luck, they could’ve equalized. If in the last match of Holland I was quite impressed by Robben, this time van Persie did it. I think he deserved to be the man of the match. I was actually curious about what his actual position was, because he was all over the place. He was great at attacking as well as defending. And he scored one great goal from a free kick outside the penalty box, then passed a good ball to van Nilsterooij who finished it well and hence gave the victory to Holland by 2-1.

Actually, after Argentina won, I was hoping that Holland would lose, so their next duel will be even hotter. Now it doesn’t matter anymore because both are definitely going to the next round. But still, I won’t miss it anyway.
The Argentines definitely indulged their fans by scoring 6 goals (3 in each half time). Poor Serbia-Montenegro, even Savo Milosevic could not do much to save his country from shame, esp after one of their players got a red card. The goals were all beautiful, but because there were too many of them, I could only remember the last two ones. Messi assisted Crespo to score, and then netted a goal himself. I think the presence of Maradona helped boost their spirits.

The indulgence continued as Cote d’Ivoire gave a good fight to the oranje team. Had they had a little luck, they could’ve equalized. If in the last match of Holland I was quite impressed by Robben, this time van Persie did it. I think he deserved to be the man of the match. I was actually curious about what his actual position was, because he was all over the place. He was great at attacking as well as defending. And he scored one great goal from a free kick outside the penalty box, then passed a good ball to van Nilsterooij who finished it well and hence gave the victory to Holland by 2-1.

Actually, after Argentina won, I was hoping that Holland would lose, so their next duel will be even hotter. Now it doesn’t matter anymore because both are definitely going to the next round. But still, I won’t miss it anyway.

READY TO SEE ARGENTINA!

Last night I just crashed and missed the three matches.
Kristina, Gina and I went to the factory outlet at 4, and as we were walking to find a cab, a Canadian stopped us to ask where the nearest mall was, and then he talked a bit about himself and the business he's doing. Apparently he's a retired doctor and now working in a marketing company which sells stuff like sex products (whatever that is), face lifts etc, and he says we can make ten thousand bucks a month. Little he knew bout his audience lol.....
Anyway, I got a nice white shirt with light blue and green flowers (a birthday gift from Kristina). Gina bought one shirt as well, and Kristina picked a lovely green shirt, and two pairs of pants. We went home hungry, and the traffic was bad, and the taxi driver talked incessantly. We arrived around 6 and had nasi goreng and eggrolls for dinner (yummy), and continued to work some more.
Btw, I got the long awaited CD from my Italian pal Cristina, consists of some Italian music and lots of pictures she took during her trips to Europe, they are breath-taking! They make me want to see Europe more!
So I went home at 8, and passed out. I woke up a bit at midnight, turned on my TV and got to see Gerrard's goal for England. I didn't regret to bad missing those all matches yesterday, because none of them are my favorites. But there's no way I will miss Argentina and Holland tonight. I'm excited too to see they face against each other next week (poor two big teams, haev to be in the same group!)
I hope I will not cry for Argentina tonight! I hope Aimar score!

THE NEW GERMAN RISING STAR?

Been digging through German football history since Euro 9 and World Cup 2002, and I can't help wondering if Oliver Neuville will be the next rising star of Germany. A last-gasp goal
from this German substitute player to Poland last night reminded me of Oliver Bierhoff's
golden goal in Euro 96, even though many people thought it was from an offside position, still brought the trophy to Germany and instant fame for Bierhoff, who was then 28 years old.

And then I thought of Miroslav Klose, who became an instant hit with the German fans when he scored a last-gasp winner against Albania on his international debut in the World Cup qualifying campaign. Even the Germans didn't get it. They were meant to have a bad team with a worse attack, and they were suddenly in a World Cup semi-final, courtesy of a young Pole who still drove an Audi A3 and until then was still working as a carpenter. Klose exploded onto the world stage as if from nowhere at the 2002 FIFA World Cup Korea/Japan. The rookie striker bagged a hat-trick as Germany ran out 8-0 winners over Saudi Arabia, gaining instant worldwide fame. The then 24-year-old went on to become one of the shooting stars of the tournament, finishing as Germany’s top scorer with five goals and second only to Brazil’s Ronaldo in the final standings.

I also wondered if he (Klose) felt a bit guilty to play against Poland, the nation where his Mom came from, and where he was born.

Anyway, my big question now is, will Neuville be a late bloomer (33 yrs old) who turns to a supersub and hero for his nation? Still early to say that, but it's exciting to wait and see as the ball continues rolling.

ps. the second paragraph was not fully my writing as I copied and paste from several sources.

SPANISH FEAST

Way to go, Spain!!!!!!!
I loved seeing they score goal by goal againts Ukraine....David Villa was cool, so was Xabi Alonso....at first I was sad when Aragones decided to exclude Morientes from the national team, but so far Spain is the most productive team in the world cup.
However, a red card for Vladyslav Vashchuk plus a penalty for Spain was a little bit too much, I think. Poor Sheva didn't get much sweat, neither did Casillas (but I bet he was happy about it).

SOCCER SUMMARY

French was lame last night. Zidane was there, but it was not the same team who won the world cup 8 years ago.
I found myself yelling and hooting for Switzerland, even though I didn't know most of the players. There were some who play in Bundesliga, but since I don't usually watch any other league besides Italian and Premier (UK), their faces were not familiar to me.

After that i managed to sleep for an hour, before woke up to watch Brazil against Croatia. I always complained about how it was not fun to watch football without any friends, so I was lucky to get to know Dewi, a soccer fan at my new boarding house. I learned that she's from the same town and attended the same high school, only she's 5 years older than me. Anyway, it has been so much fun to watch together with her, hooting for handsome players,( we both were awed by the movie-star-like looks of Petr Cech (Czech goalie) and Luca Toni (Italian striker)) and chided those who missed the goal, mostly in Sundanese (it's been so long since I spoke Sundanese with anyone).

But we both gave up and chose to go back to bed before the game ended last night. It was around 3 am and the first half was not over yet.We missed to see Kaka score the single goal that night (if only we had stayed for 5 more minutes!). But we're ready to watch Spain vs Ukraina tonight (and it's not in the dawn, thank goodness--we need some sleep here)

ASLAN AND JADIS (THOSE ARE THE REAL NAMES--SORRY FOR THE MISPELLING BEFORE)

The two finger suckers!

HMM..LUCA TONI

Still wonder why I cheer for Italy? or why I sacrificed a good sleep last night?
Ok, he didn't score a goal against Ghana last night, but I think he was the striker who worked the most. Gilardino was disappointing.

TIC TOC…TIC TOC….

And the biological clock starts clicking (when you reach age 25, or so Sandra said to me)..anyway, several days before today, I had PBS (Pre-Birthday Syndrome, I just made out those words), and I thought I would feel blue today. Now I’m not needy anymore, and I don’t take it personally if people don’t remember my birthday, but things were overwhelming lately and I was always in a bad mood.
Guess what…
I am HAPPY today!
I went home for work and there was nothing much to do, and half of my teammates were not there either, so after lunch I decided to go shopping and buy myself some gifts (a pair of new sneakers and a cool black swimsuit- I needed them so bad!), and Gina called me to say she was starting to worry bout me since I didn’t come back fast after lunch. Apparently the team had prepared a surprise little party for me (and they’d been waiting!)…we had a nice birthday cake with strawberries and kiwi on top, lots of heart-shaped balloons (Kristina and Gina blew them all), and lots of gifts.
In the evening Gina cooked me a delicious chili soup and biscuits and corns (as I had requested when she asked yesterday night). After that they asked me what I would like to do, and so we went to sing at the karaoke (just like I wanted to). They paid for that too, though I tried to insist that it was on me. We had a girls night (plus Janet but minus Sandra) singing some songs for an hour. I got to sing Michael Bubble’s Home, which is my fave, and it made me satisfied.
So, in addition to Teresa’s book, I got another writing book, a country CD from the US, alovely candle, a package of incense from Singapore, an aromatic lulur from Bali, a cool purse, a cosmetic package, an appropriate pants for a survey trip, some cash from my siblings and parents to buy oleh-oleh from Bali, and a gift certificate for a salad bar at pizza hut plus one trip to an outlet store to buy something new to wear! (and….a date on Friday night to watch the wizard of OZ and also to enjoy a tasty samgyetang soup!). Having your birthday(s) around Americans is really great!
Plus lots of hugs, e-cards, sms, messengers, and phone calls from my beloved ones – I feel lovable, yeah!

LA CIOCCOLATA DA TERESA

A day before I turn 25, I received an Italian book (cioccolata calda per l’anima della donna) and a lovely birthday card from my American penpal, Teresa.
She lives in Portland and we’ve never met in person, and emails got rare as we got busier and busier, but she remembers my birthday! So, grazie, Teresa!
I love the book, it evokes my desire to learn Italian again (and not give up on it!)…
Another regalino is on its way from Trieste (my amica di penna Cristina), it’s going to my parents’ house because Cristina and I both are very concerned because the CD she sent a while ago has not arrived yet to my Jakarta address. Postal system sucks sometimes.
Anyway, I am so touched by the thoughtfulness of my sweet penpals. I hope Teresa and Cristina can know each other, I think they will get along very well.

MANIK-MANIK, MASSAGE, AND MEXICAN FOOD

Another adventure with my sister’s family on the week-end.
We went bead hunting (manik-manik=beads) to a shopping center. It always thrills me to be at the store which sells beads and other stuff to sew or crochet (I don’t know how to call it in English-somebody shed me some light here), because I grew up going there a lot with my Mom, who is a tailor.
Anyway, this store’s selection of beads was amazing, even my 7 year old nephew was enthusiastic scooping some beads, helping me and his Mom (or pestering, actually) pick those beautiful things, while his younger brother was ‘tied’ by his Dad, who just sat around the corner and kept yelling the warnings not to shop too much.
We went home and started to design some necklace and earrings. I just love it! It kills my boredom and expands my creativity, and seems to be a prospective business too. See my other blog (mybelovedbeads.blogspot.com) for the outcomes.

Sunday afternoon, with all my muscle sore from creating too much, it was lovely to have a two-hour body massage! Relaxing, and it helped my sleep to be better.

But the Mexican food was a turn off. I was suddenly hungry when I saw the delivery brochure from a new Mexican restaurant (I bet it was fake) laying there on my sister’s table, and with so much greed ordered a portion of chicken tacos and beef enchiladas, a long with two small piece of burritos. I told my sister that dinner that night was on me, but we were too tired to go out so we decided to order by phone. Anyway, she and her husband chose to have some foods from a Chinese restaurant and it was pretty good.
I started to love Mexican foods when I was living with The Farlands, an American couple, also dear friends of mine, two years ago. I loved Katie’s enchiladas and tacos… they were so yummy that even now a thought of them makes my mouth water!
But the thing with those foods I ordered that night was…. no cumin on it, and lots of cilantro (and I agree with Karl that cilantro tastes like soap!). And it’s a little bit pricey, but not really worth it. Next time if I pick up a phone and ring a restaurant who claims to serve Mexican foods, I’ll ask them if they use cumin or not (and no cilantro please!), who knows there will be jalapeño as well!

THE INTRUDER

Last night an odd thing that freaked me out happened. Around 1.30 am, I heard someone trying to open the sliding door near my room. And I suddenly turned my body around when that someone suddenly opened my room’s door (which unfortunately I had forgotten to lock!)—squinting my eyes and preparing for a defense.
He said he was looking for the wife of Bob Sidle, which happens to be the owner of the house, and that he was tired and he wanted some food and water and all other rant. At that time I already jumped off my bed and then locked my door, after asking him to ring a bell. He tried to force me to tell the owner upstairs, but I told him once again to ring a bell near the front door.
Instead, he sat on a bench in front of my room and started making up a dialogue in English, and then he uttered a loud prayer, maybe for an hour. I was so freaked out, but I tried to listen to his words. He talked about many things, which confirmed my guess that he was out of his mind.
I sms-ed one of my roommate upstairs to wake one of the maids up, but when they checked him out, he was already gone.
(FYI, my room’s location is a bit isolated, apart from the main house).
So, I couldn’t go back to sleep after that. Oh, so much to add to my restless nights!

LIKE A RED M&M MELTING IN YOUR MOUTH…………..

So am I now in front of my computer!! This heat is unbearable, making me want to stay all day long in my air-conditioned office, rather than having a day off!
Is it summer or what? I hope it’ll be snow in August!
And boredom is the only companion I have now. Even writing and crocheting can’t chase it away.
Oh my goodness! I am MELTING…..help help help!

CRUEL THINGS PEOPLE DID (AND STILL DO) TO ME

Watch out! PMS attacks! Bear with me if this post is (again) rather bitter, about things others did to me (and still do sometimes, unfortunately) which I consider to be cruel. It’s also called social rules in being a nice and polite human in this zany world.

When I am nice enough to invite you over for a meal together, RSVP please. Say yes or no, but don’t ever leave it hanging. I need to know ahead of time whether you’re coming (especially if it’s a personal invitation), so I can shop and prepare. I also need to know if you’re not, so I can enjoy my free time without wondering whether you’re coming or not, and do something more fun than waiting in uncertainty.
Ah, ok, you are busy (so you think I’m not??)…but it takes less than ten minutes to RSVP via phone or email, and it takes less than a minute to type no or yes through sms (and I’m a slow typer, mind you)
If you already say yes, do not cancel in the last minute before the appointment time for some invalid reasons! (except if you’re suddenly killed in the car accident or something urgent like that). At least cancel a day before, and this applies not only for meals, but to any appointment you already made with me. And this is cruel if it includes cooking.
Once a friend sms-ed me half an hour before dinner time, and said she probably would not come because she was very tired. I went nuts because the table had been set and I had been cooking almost all day long for her. She finally came, but I had to yell first.

When I come with an idea of a get together and make some plans, don’t assume I can do it all alone. Indifference and lack of feedback are the two killers of my wanting to initiative. I’m tired to be the only one who invites or to be the first one to initiate.

When I say no to something I have a right to say no, please respect it. Don’t keep knocking at my door with the same request, though in many different, manipulative ways. I hate it when people become dependent on me and chose to be lazy because they always get what they want from me easily. Remember, I’m only human, with limited patience (and on pms days, uh, it will be like waking up a tigress).
“Can you translate this for me, please? I need it tomorrow!”
“Sorry, I’m busy and I don’t feel very well.” (FYI, the favor didn’t have anything to do with any work of mine, it was totally a voluntary favor by someone I only see once in a blue moon)
“Oh, I understand, but what if the day after tomorrow, or even the day after that? We’ll be responsible for the delay.”
“(HELLO deaf people) I am B-U-S-Y all week in the office. My colleagues were nice enough to let me do YOUR work at office hour, but now I can’t do that anymore.”
“(whining tone) Ohhh…what should I do? I am so confused now…”
“(it’s none of my business) Didn’t I tell you to ask me for a favor like that at least a week before? Here is an email address of my friend, she does that professionally for a reasonable price.” (the price is affordable, really)
“Oh it’s ok. I’ll try to do it myself then.”
So that’s it, they just don’t want to pay.
But at night my cell phone beeped. And 3 long sms appeared. “Can you help me translate this and this and this and this and this.
(Leave me alone!) but I typed it anyway. No gratitude shown. Later on one more sms. “Are you still busy? Can I ask some more?”
And I switched off my phone in anger!

When I come out of my comfort zone and confront you (the thing I hate the most to do), you might be hurt, but at least heed what I said. Know that every word uttered I had carefully picked and pondered and thought about, and I’d tried my best to put it in a mild way (though not always successful with that). If you seemed to accept it but don’t change anything to adjust or be cooperative in finding the best resolution for both of us, I would feel betrayed and disrespected.

So many people, so little social grace! Sigh! (Do feel sorry for me, will you!)

MY PRAYER TODAY

Lord, be with my beloved ones today:
Give comfort to those who are mourning,
Your directions to those who are lost,
Light to those searching in the dark,
Encouragement to the ones in dismay,
Strength to the weak ones,
Faith to those who doubt or hesitate,
Show the right road to those in the crossroads
That they may know your love,
And live their lives to the fullest.
Amen.

MY BUSY AND SOCIAL AND FUN WEEKEND

MY BUSY AND SOCIAL AND FUN WEEKEND

It started on Friday evening. Gina’s family came from America, and they invited me and all the team to have dinner at the Korean barbeque restaurant. It was the second time I went there, and I just loved the food, including the bulgogi (note that I don’t usually eat beef, but this place is exceptional). I usually get nervous of being the only non-American, but I really enjoyed meeting Gina’s parents and the two other ‘gopher’ girls (i.e. her two pretty younger sisters, Betsy and Sally – btw I am still confused who is who). They were planning to go to Yogyakarta on Saturday morning, but I guess it was cancelled due to the earthquake.

Saturday morning, I went shopping and cooked my favorite broccoli chicken soup, served with buttered baguette. I shared it with some roommates and also Helen, and found out that she used to knit. In fact, she now is using a cool knitted blanket that she made her own. I told her about my hobby to crochet, and gave her a crocheted choker. She looked so thrilled to receive that. In the evening I started to work on a short story to be submitted for an annual contest. Still a long long way to go, but at least I have started. Then I stayed up late watching American Idol finale, and was glad that Katharine McPhee didn’t win. I used to like her and dislike Taylor, but he proved himself to be the best and I’m glad he won. It was such a spectacular show with lots of famous guests, including Dionne Worwick and Al Jarreau.

I woke up on Sunday morning earlier than I wanted to, because I had to work. Time is almost up and we still need more people to be tested. We went to a slum area in northern Jakarta, and as I gazed around, I realized the gap between that area with south Jakarta where I live, where everything looks nicer, cleaner, and of course, more pricey.

I had to skip lunch to be able to make it to Janet’s bridal shower afterwards. It was my first experience attending a bridal shower, and I liked it a lot. It was so much fun to shower a bride-to-be with love, attention, prayers and gifts. Janet got lots of sweetly wrapped gifts from the women (mostly lingerie for her honeymoon), and we had fun eating snacks and playing games, including a fiercely competitive toilet-paper dress-making competition. I just loved it! My team put layers and layers of TP on Kristina, trying our best to be creative and artistic, and we won!
I told Sandra, who organized it, that I would want one if I were getting married. She said it’s a western tradition and probably I have to get a western husband if I want one. Too bad Indonesians don’t do that. And when I get married later, I think all of my American friends will not be around anymore. Sigh!

CAN'T BELIEVE HE'S GONE.....

....HOME

Another summer day
Is come and gone away
In Paris and Rome
But I wanna go home

Maybe surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
I just wanna go home
Oh I miss you, you know

And I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you
Each one a line or two“I’m fine baby, how are you?”
Well I would send them but I know that it’s just not enough
My words were cold and flat
And you deserve more than that

Another sunny place
I’m lucky I know
But I wanna go home
Mmmm, I’ve got to go home

Let me go home
I’m just too far from where you are
I wanna come home

And I feel just like I’m living someone else’s life
It’s like I just stepped outside
When everything was going right
And I know just why you could not
Come along with me
But this was not your dream
But you always believe in me

Another winter day has come
And gone away
And even Paris and Rome
And I wanna go home

Let me go home
And I’m surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel alone

Oh, let go home
Oh, I miss you, you know
Let me go home
I’ve had my run
Baby, I’m doneI gotta go home

Let me go home
It will all right
I’ll be home tonight
I’m coming back home

ELLIOTT YAMIN

My co-worker, who is well-known for his anti-social character and is famous for his remark “Marriage is a hideous display of sentimentality”, came to my desk one day and asked, “Do you follow American Idol this season?”
I shook my head. “Has it started yet?” I remembered seeing Carrie Underwood beat Bo Bice on the previous finale, and then my TV broke. Despite my desire to have it fixed before the world cup starts, my busyness had not allowed it to happen.
Anyway, he just wanted to share his grief because he just received an email from his friend who now lives in America, that his favorite finalist, Mandisa, had to go home.
I think it was Thursday, and usually the AI show is broadcast on Saturday night, several days later after the actual show.
So Saturday night that week, out of curiosity, I went to the living room of my new boarding house and switched on the TV at 11 pm to watch AI again, first time after a long time.
And I was smitten by Elliott Yamin’s wonderful voice, singing “If tomorrow never comes”.
The following day, I took my broken TV from my old house and to my surprise, found it miraculously working again. Since then I always watched it every week, and I started to admire Elliott even more, not only for his voice, but also for his sense of humor (I bet Ryan Seacrest likes him a lot!), his simplicity and humility. He always looks loving, and friendly and modest, and he sings with all of his heart. He is so beautiful, inside out.
“I’m just the same guy who used to work here,” was his response to one of the fans hovering about him in the pharmacy where he used to work.
And tears welled up in his eyes when he looked at the screen showing how he was welcomed and supported by the people in Richmond Virginia, his hometown.
And tears also welled up in my eyes when I learned that he had to say goodbye to the AI stage because he only got 33.06% of the 50 millions votes. The difference with the other two was very thin. Bummer. Bummer. Elliott had to leave. The stage will never be the same again without him.
Yes he already left, but his voice will always echo in my ears. I’ve never liked (and never will) any AI contestant as much as I like Elliott Yamin. And I will be waiting for his first album with a growing impatience deep within.

LOSING MY VOICE

No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’m losing my voice!! And I’m losing my sleep too…and all that happens when I’m not in love with anyone (except with Colin Firth’s British accent maybe). And within the next week, my main job is interviewing people, ideally 45 more people for my current project.
Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!!
It hurts to even try to talk, or to swallow any liquid thing, and I can only squeal and shriek. I feel so dumb.
I didn’t sell my voice to the sea witch for a magical potion to win any prince charming’s heart…
I used to mind people who talk so much, and keep 80% of my thoughts to myself. But now, how I long to talk again!
My voice, please come back…and I promise I won’t take you for granted anymore!

A WHINER IS NOT A WINNER

This morning I read a passage in Numbers 11. In the first verse it says, “When the people complained, it displeased the Lord.”
On and on it tells about how the Israelites kept murmuring against the Lord. They were given manna on the dessert, yet instead of being grateful, they remembered when they had cucumbers, garlic, and melons in Egypt. That’s the only thing they remembered the most: good things in the past, which led to dissatisfaction in the present. They forgot that they’d been slaves, ill-treated, and miserable. Hence, they only whined, instead of giving thanks for what God has delivered them out of.
Sometimes I find myself shaking my head in disbelief, reading about how stubborn and hard-heartened they were. How could they be, when they had witnessed so many miracles before their very eyes?
But this morning, it was like reading my own biography. I too, like them, have been whining and complaining and murmuring and bitter (yeah, just look at some posts before), while I have so much to be thankful for.
I was wanting melon when I had abundant manna.
Today I realized, being the whiner is not what I wanna be, cos a whiner is not a winner!

DEN LILLE HAVRUE (A STORY ABOUT A TRUE YET UNREQUITED LOVE)

I almost cried reading Hans Christian Andersen's "Den lille Havfrue", or better known as The Little Mermaid. Such a beautiful story about a true love, yet unrequited.
Lucky are those who never experience it, but most of us do.
Forget about Ariel, the Disney’s mermaid, mind you. I’m talking about the original little mermaid story. Somehow I could relate to her, she was the youngest, quiet and wistful (yeah, most of you would protest at the latter two. Most people think I have a cheerful disposition).
But like me, she also spent most of her time dreaming, and wondering, what it was like to finally see the world above, hear the clatter and clamor of the city, and experience things that she only had heard from others’.
But little she knew about the tragedy that would follow when her biggest dream finally came true, when she turned 15. I wish her birthday had been the day after, or before she actually went up to the surface, and saw the prince charming, whom she helplessly fell in love with.
She risked her life to save him from drowning, and he mistakenly thought it was another girl who saved him.
And she made many other sacrifices just to be near him (just like how love often makes a fool of us). She sold her most beautiful voice to the witch, for a potion that could turn her fish tail into legs. And it hurt her so much. So much that she felt like dying.
And she danced for him, though even to walk, it felt as if she thread on many knives. And she was just like a dumb doll, merely a toy for the prince, to kill his loneliness.
"Yes, you are most dear to me," said the Prince, "for you have the kindest heart. You love me more than anyone else does.”
But he never said that he loved her back, because he never did.
She left every good thing she had: her royal family, her fun deep inside the sea, her 300 year life span, in search for a true love and an immortal soul (that she could only get when a human loved her enough to marry her), and that was not without a risk. If the prince married another woman, the mermaid’s heart would break on the very next morning, and she would become foam of the sea, and cease to exist.
After all she had done for him, she had to witness his wedding day to another girl he loved the most.
But she also had a chance to take revenge, when her five siblings came with bald head, because they had sold their hair to the witch for a dagger to stab the prince with, so she could be a mermaid again. Instead, she kissed his forehead, and heard him murmur his bride’s name, and threw the dagger out of the sea. Slowly, she started to feel her body dissolve in foam.
Tragic, isn’t it?
Yeah, of course there’s another last chapter to console the reader, in which she turned into a daughter of air, who eventually would get the immortal soul, and she could cry for the first time (for mermaids had no tears, they only could sigh when they’re sad).
But still, there’s nothing worse than unrequited love, though it always makes great and inspiring stories!

HELEN

Her name is Helen. She is 86 years old, and her coming was not expected at all.
I heard people talk about her all the time, about how she had to be carried around, or strolled along in a wheelchair, and be bathed by someone else everyday. In other words, she is nothing but a helpless old lady.
But I heard that she liked kids, and sometimes she laughed over things.
And I started to be compassionate towards her. I guess I always have a soft spot for elderly people in my heart. Perhaps because I’ve never had grandparents, or perhaps because I know that someday I’ll be like them (oh, ok…I’m not yet 25, but God willing, I’ll live for many many years more).
And I started to wonder, how is felt to not look forward to something ahead like us, young folks (we think about our dreams, our future, our ambitions), but to look back to the past, to what they’ve been through.
When I turn 80, will I look back, and be embarrassed of how careless, selfish, and mundane I was on my salad days? Will I regret to see how I’d been thinking about my own self and forget to love others as much as I should have? Will I wish I had done more than I actually did? More loving deeds, more encouraging words, more tenderness, more patience…less arrogance, less timidity, less cowardice, less of my old self?
I hope not… I hope I will be able to look back and smile in satisfaction, and be grateful in my heart for what God had done through me, and my numbered days.
And I found myself praying for Helen, in my room. I don’t know how it feels to grow old and be more dependant to others, even to do things we used to do easily and without thinking. It must be lonely, it must be unpleasant, it must be saddening. In addition of that, Helen has no friends. She just came to Indonesia with her son (who leaves her all alone almost all day long), and the maids around her can’t speak English at all.
I’m not the kind of people who can easily be connected with strangers, or initiate a conversation, but I was compelled to get to know her.
So, after thinking back and forth, one morning I came out of my room, and sat next to her in a bench where she usually sits early in the morning. And I started to talk. She was nice, although a way too quiet and a little bit deaf. I tried my best to converse with her, but before long I was out of words.
And I haven’t had any chance to sit and talk with her again after that. Yet I still wonder what she feels when she stares at things around, with a glimpse of loneliness in her eyes.
I want to be her friend, I want to make her last days on earth colorful. I want her to know that God loves her, and I want to tell her that she’ll be fine.
But alas, I’m traveling soon! I like to travel, but sometimes it prevents me from building a relationship, like this one, with Helen.

ON MY NECK!

CROCHETING IS FUN!

I love to crochet.....I would like to learn more about it, so I did make a move by looking for website (s) and free patterns from the internet, and here are the results as far: chokers!

BOOKS AND PENPALS

I’m always crazy about books and reading them. I like them more than clothes, cosmetics, or high-heels shoes. I can’t spend more than half an hour in a boutique, but I can linger for hours in a book store.
I don’t care if people call me a nerd. Indonesians don’t read enough, and I want it to change. So I’m excited that all of my nephews put a big interest on reading, cos I want them to be smart.
But lately I haven’t seriously read only one book. I haven’t finished Anna Karenina, but I already moved to John Grisham’s The Partner. In between those, I also read Mary Higgins Clarks’ novel, and a Chicken Soup book.
Yesterday evening, when I visited a book exhibition, I was almost tempted to buy one, simply because the cover looked interesting and they were having a bargain. But then I remembered the pile of books at home, so I refrained myself.
The book that I want most to read is Geraldine Brooks’ Foreign Correspondence, which is a memoir of how she traveled to find her long lost penpals all over the world. I want to read it so much, since I want to do the same thing with her someday. I have lots of wonderful penpals, mostly in Europe, and I hope I can meet them face to face someday.
“What if you don’t like them when you guys meet in person?” asked my friend skeptically.
I couldn’t find the words then. But after I gave it a thought, I realize that we already made a good move by being friends even though we never met. And how beautiful it is to build a friendship that is not confined by age, nations, distance or gender. How lovely to share our stories, learn the cultures, and simply love the people who sometimes seem to understand more than those around.

ON THE CROSSROAD

Nowhere else is harder than on the crossroad. It’s inevitable, unavoidable. I find myself there several times, and I bet you do too.
I used to call it ‘a gray area’, where it’s not pitch black nor clear white. It’s puzzling, and may give you headache for several days, or weeks.
It’s a place where you are not sure where you’re going. Left or right, which one is right for you? And how do you know? You don’t know what to expect from each path you’re about to choose—whether it will lead you to your dreams, or cause you to regret your choice later.
On many a dark night, I wish I had known the end of those paths, without having to step on it first. I prayed for a divine guide, yet God seemed so silent. I looked for a sign from above, but I saw nothing. I tried to listen for His voice, in a breeze of a cold, chill wind, but I heard nothing. I got more confused, yet I didn’t know what to choose. And I felt all alone.
But I knew I had to move forward, and not to let my fears keep me from my journey.
I wanted to follow my biggest dream, yet that way seemed to be winding, and there was a big price to pay, without any guarantee of happiness at the end. Was the cost worth it? Would I be happy? Would people I love be happy? Would I look back at the crossroad I was in now, and smile, or would I cry?
Things would have been easier if I didn’t have to choose one over two, or more. But there was another road, which seemed to be more secured. I saw myself in a comfort zone, with much less to worry about. Life would just flow as a routine. No harm, no danger, no thrill, no venture. And I knew it would be so boring, so boring that one day I would wish I had chosen the other road.
Half of me wanted the adventure, the other half preferred security, and all that.
You could ask for advices, but people can’t decide for you. And how do you know that your choice will please the Lord? How do you know if your biggest dream is also your life calling, or is it mere a selfish wish? You asked God to remove it from your heart, if it is not from Him, and yet it is there, planted deeper in your heart (even when your closest friends thought you’d already forgotten it), and you’re still doubtful whether it was right.
People used to tell me, that it was so easy to figure out whether something was from The Lord or not. Simply notice, when a door started to close, and another opened, take the latter one. Sometimes it worked, but unfortunately in my case(s), things aren’t usually that simple. If all the doors are closed, it’s easy; you stay where you are, and wait. But what if all the doors are open, which one will you pick?
Here is when you need your faith the most; on the crossroad, facing the unknown, trembling with fears and exhausted by confusion.
Take heart, know that He will not leave you nor forsake you, whichever path you’ve chosen. Even when it’s hard to tread, He will put His feet on your shoes, and carry you along. Even when it’s the wrong track, He will somehow lead you to the right one, because He is the way, the truth and the light. And He dwells in your heart.
So go where your heart takes you, and be brave!

ENSLAVED BY VIRTUES

How much is too much? What are the boundaries between doing good deeds for others and being their slave?
I’ll tell you what I have in my head.
I’ll think twice before bothering others, and I’ll be grateful to those willing to help me in anything.
What if someone asked you a favor, and at first you were so glad to help them.
But then they continued to keep asking you the same favor, so often until you could hardly breathe the air.
And you knew they could’ve learned to do that by themselves, but now they had been accustomed to depending on you, cos you’re always there, doing what they wanted you to do.
And they set the time limit. They said, “Please, finish it by tomorrow morning” (while it’s already late at night). And people around you thought you got paid for your hard labor for them. The fact was, you sometimes didn’t get a simple thank you.
And someday you found out that other people were willing to hire you professionally for the same work, and for the same amount, they gave you two weeks, rather than a night.
You started thinking of saying no, but they got better at begging. And you felt guilty of your intention to stop helping them, thinking they were your friends and you ought to help them.
But then, every time they called, you started grumbling silently, “Arrghhh.. it must be free work again on my free time!” And you kept resenting it cos you needed rest, you had 101 other things to do for yourselves besides your main job in the office.
And you started wondering whether they were your friends like you had thought before.
Then you realized. They only called when they needed you.
They forced you to help them even though they knew you just got out of the hospital and when you said, “I am very tired. My head is spinning around.” They laughed, sounded pretty satisfied that they got what they wanted and they didn’t care if you didn’t feel well afterwards.
Then you realized, you had been used. You had been a slave of people who pretended to be your friends because you’re so useful for them. Or maybe they intended to be your friends, but just didn’t know how.
Then I guess, it was right when people said, that inability to say no is one of the secrets to unhappiness.

THE SPELLING CONTEST

I had never been to a spelling contest, until last Saturday. My sister signed up her first son Henry, after a lot of persuasive efforts. I tested him on several English words on Friday night, and he’s actually pretty good, despite his laziness to study.
The foodcourt of a mall was packed with people, mostly the elementary students joining many contests and their parents.
The program was opened by a line dance. And the dance teacher grabbed Henry in the last minute, to replace a no-show. She said Henry would be able to do it because he often joined the rehearsal sessions.
As a fun country song of Shania Twain was played, the cute kids came up to the stage in pairs. As they listened to the intro and prepared to tap their feet, Henry spotted me among the audience and grinned and waved his hand at me excitedly. The whole dance show was a mess anyway, but still it was pretty amusing to all the audience.
And then finally the spelling contest. Henry made it to the final, with the other three kids. I found myself clapping with enthusiasm when he got right, and winced whenever his answer was incorrect. People around me must have thought that I was an ambitious single parent.
Anyway, he got one of the prizes and was so happy until we all had dinner to celebrate his dad’s birthday. He got tired due to a full-day activity and very very hungry and started to whine when the foods took awhile to be ready. And boy, did the whining pay off. His order came the last!
I managed to keep him from going nuts by saying this over and over again. “The last food served is usually the best.”

MICHAEL BUBBLE’S SWAY

There are some reasons why SWAY is the song I like best from Michael Bubble’s album. It seems to represent two things I want most right now.
First,
Like a flower bending in the breeze, bend with me, sway with ease
I want to dance with a partner who knows how to lead. I pray that my future husband is someone who can dance, or at least someone willing to learn, and not think that it’s a girl thing or even worse, a sin.

Second,
I can hear the sounds of violins, long before it begins
I don’t want to only hear other people play it. I want to play it myself. I have one now, but I don’t have a chance to practice on it. In my hands, it only could shriek. And I hate when people push me to play for them, cos it will be a torture for their ears, and even much worse for me. Why don’t people just accept my no, and respect it?

Someday, I’ll sway and I’ll play. And when I’m ready, I’ll show you. In the meantime, let me decide what I will do and what I will not.

HEAVEN, HELL AND HUMAN LOGIC

I found myself listening unintentionally to a seemingly exciting conversation of at least three people, distracting me from John Grisham’s The Partner I was reading.
I was not a part of the conversation, I was just eavesdropping and totally unseen. I could tell that they agreed on one thing: Human logic to determine whether someone is going to heaven or hell. If he has done good deeds, kindness, charity and virtues, then he deserves heaven. If he has been wicked, cruel, stingy, and did many bad things, then of course he deserves hell. They were sure God knew what was fair and what was not. And that what they believed sounded quite fair. So that must be the truth.
Says who?
“I believe in God, hence I obey the first commandment,” said one person. And she added on. “I don’t steal, I never kill.” She sounded certain that she’s good enough for heaven. Being good means heaven, and hell for the opposite. That sounds so simple and believable. Even to my ears. Had I heard it years ago, I would have agreed. But now I know more than that, thanks to the Book I read, the songs I heard, the people who revealed the truth to me, and of course, the One that planted a desire to know more than merely human logic to my heart, and kept His promise, that whoever seeks might find.
Being in this rotten world for almost 25 years, I can’t precisely imagine how heaven will really look like. But I know it’s the place where the holy, just and loving God is. And His standards are of course higher than ours, limited human beings. Only the holy ones will be there, because God can’t stand impurity.
What makes us impure? Just because we believe there’s a God, and never steal, and never kill, it means we’re pure enough to enter heaven?
What about those ulterior motives hidden in our hearts? What about those dirty little secrets we keep to ourselves? What about that anger we refuse to let go?
Now that we have lots of things to confess, do we still dare to think we’re holy enough according to God’s standards?
If I were God, I would laugh at our arrogance. And I would cry over that too. People sometimes think they’re too smart to keep searching, simply because they’re sure they’ve known everything.
This kind of folks and their belief in human logic strike my heart with grief. If only they were not too skeptical towards what other people say, if only they had enough humility to doubt themselves, and to start seeking the truth, the answer is there. And the secret of how to get to heaven is told everywhere. The blood of The Innocent One was shed, once for all, thousands of years ago. The gift is still offered, though.
Please, take it, before it’s too late. The decision is all yours.