taken by Sarah and Daniel :)
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Some pics of my long week-end
My parents and my brother came to Jakarta for a short visit. Together with my sister’s family, we went to see the ice sculpture and a dolphin show. We also took a cable car (that they call gondola), it was fun to be together with my big family.
But alas, it was so hard to get a good pic of the dolphins!
OMIGOSH!
My deep apology for thinking so badly about the postal system (which is often bad, anyway).
I almost gave up a hope that Sarah’s gift for my birthday was only super late, though I knew she sent it at the end of May. I still prayed that it was only late, not lost or stolen on the way, but it never came.
But last Friday, our team had a reorganization day (a term that means putting back the scattered books, papers and other stuff to their proper place)—and Kristina found an unopened package from Switzerland, hiding among the documents and papers and books that I didn’t have time to even look at. Apparently, someone brought it from the main office and put it on my desk when I was traveling, and it got buried there for 2 months!
Sarah knows me very well that she anticipated my enthusiasm towards the coming (I mean last) World Cup that she sent me a cute blue shirt with big ITALIA letters, Italian logo and my fave player number (9-Luca Toni!) along with a cool football magazine in Italian.
Imagine how difficult it was for me to find an Italian T-shirt before watching the final game! Ooohhh…(but now I have two!)
But no probs, I am so happy that I found it, and the Italian stuff will never be too ‘stale’ for me because I will love it forever.
She has been showering me with all Italian football stuff, again and again, knowing that I am such an Italy-freak (and I’m not ashamed to show it to the world!)
I really thank people who can understand my fondness to something, and who can appreciate and respect what I really love and crazy about and thus hold dear, even though they might not feel the same with me.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
ANOTHER REJECTION SLIP CAME
And did my heart break in pieces? Nope
Did my eyes shed a tear because of that? No, not really
Did it make me want to give up writing stories? Not at all!
Well, I am proud of how I take it. Yes I used to hope a lot that my script would be published (and probably then I would earn enough money to fly me to Italy). But too long a waiting (more than 6 months) really helped reduce the pain of being (again) rejected.
But I still remember how it was so enjoyable to write that story. I enjoyed it from the first page up to the end. I did lots of research and interviews and readings and really put my best on it (without being rushed by the deadline). My Dad was the first reader, and he seemed to be impressed. My doctor friend Wulan was also willing to be the next, and she said she had the big kick out of it. Gina was there since the idea was conceived (on a crazy bus ride one afternoon), and she was there yesterday to give me a consoling hug when I told her the bad news. She said it motivated her more to continue reading it again (it is rather hard for her to read a novel in Indonesian)-she doesn’t care about the fact that it’s a rejected writing, considered still below the standard of the biggest publishing company in Indonesia.
Italy feels so far, for a brief moment. But as I sit staring at the bracelet and listening to the Italian music from a CD that Intan gave me as one of her birthday gifts for me, I feel consoled, cos they do seize the distance.
And you know what? I think it’s time to write another story!
Did my eyes shed a tear because of that? No, not really
Did it make me want to give up writing stories? Not at all!
Well, I am proud of how I take it. Yes I used to hope a lot that my script would be published (and probably then I would earn enough money to fly me to Italy). But too long a waiting (more than 6 months) really helped reduce the pain of being (again) rejected.
But I still remember how it was so enjoyable to write that story. I enjoyed it from the first page up to the end. I did lots of research and interviews and readings and really put my best on it (without being rushed by the deadline). My Dad was the first reader, and he seemed to be impressed. My doctor friend Wulan was also willing to be the next, and she said she had the big kick out of it. Gina was there since the idea was conceived (on a crazy bus ride one afternoon), and she was there yesterday to give me a consoling hug when I told her the bad news. She said it motivated her more to continue reading it again (it is rather hard for her to read a novel in Indonesian)-she doesn’t care about the fact that it’s a rejected writing, considered still below the standard of the biggest publishing company in Indonesia.
Italy feels so far, for a brief moment. But as I sit staring at the bracelet and listening to the Italian music from a CD that Intan gave me as one of her birthday gifts for me, I feel consoled, cos they do seize the distance.
And you know what? I think it’s time to write another story!
16 YEARS HAVE PASSED, AND NOW I HAVE DIFFERENT EYES
Gina came to visit my hometown last week-end, so we went to a volcano with my family. The first and last time I was there was 16 years ago, when I was still 9. Back then it was much more challenging to climb up to the top, yet my parents and I made it. I don’t remember feeling sore after that, but Mom said it took three days to recover from sore limbs.
Now there are steps that make it easier to the top and see the crater, still it was a struggle for me, since I didn’t really feel well. My parents are now too old for such a thing, so they waited at the foot of the mountain.
I got very sick soon after I got there, so I just laid down and couldn’t really enjoy the crater. I didn’t think it was as beautiful as before, either because I have seen better places, or because it is not as it was.
Poor Gina, I was not such a fun companion because of that stinky gastritis!
Friday, August 04, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
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."
Monday, July 31, 2006
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.
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.
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?
Sunday, July 16, 2006
A DAY OF UNA TIFOSA ITALIANA (I MEAN, INDONESIANA!)
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!)
Friday, July 14, 2006
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)
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