THE TEAM I'M GONNA MISS

Aren't we cute?

YM KICKED ME OUT

I didn’t know why, but since two days ago I haven’t been able to log in or use YM to chat. The last person I chatted with was Ryan, and I didn’t even manage to say goodbye to him before it all went wrong. All contacts were gone, and I could not add anyone. I tried to create another ID, but it didn’t make a difference.

Well, maybe it is good to confirm my decision to not let myself be addicted to chat with someone after my working hours, and instead do something more useful. Or, it can be a sign to start using Skype now.

Anyway, my own comp is having a surgery now, so let’s wait and see what I should do after she’s back.

BANDUNG VS THANKSGIVING

Apa hubungannya coba? Emang gak ada. Gua gak pernah ngerayain Thanksgiving di Bandung, tapi gara-gara makan malam thanksgiving hari ini dibatalin karena istri dan anak-anak bos gua ngedadak sakit, dan juga dokter gigi gua nelepon gak bisa nganiaya gua hari ini karena ngedadak diajak mertua kondangan, alhasil gua cuma bisa molor di kosan dan bangun ngedadak lapar. Inget kalkun, inget pai labu, inget sederet makanan enak yang setaun lalu bisa gua lahap sepuasnya karena gratis, mukulin piñata dengan semangat empat lima, duh serunya! Tapi tiba-tiba ada suara tok-tok-tok kedengeran merdu di kuping gua. Eh, si emang siomay Bandung lewat. Jadi deh gua makan siomay sampe eneg. Jadinya gini neh, sekarang gua kangen berat ama Bandung.

Kacida sonona nepika hayang nyoroscos we ngomong Sunda yeuh. Tapi kulantaran euweuh nu bisa nembalan, ayeunna kuring rek nulis make bahasa Sunda we lah, kajeun ngan ukur saparagraf oge, kajeun mun eweuh nu ngarti ge, nu penting mah urang ayeunna ngarasa puas jeung bagja. Emaaakkkk…hayang geura geura balik ka Tasik! (tapi nyimpang heula ka Bandung lah, kapalang).

Iya neh, gua kangen berat sama Bandung, titik! Gua pengen maen sama si Oliep, ngobrol sama si Dekol, ketemu temen-temen lama yang laen lagi, gak peduli betapa sekarang katanya Bandung udah sepanas dan semacet Jakarta, pokoknya gua mau tetep ke sana lagi!
Gua pengen mampir ke QB dan baca-baca buku tanpa harus beli (hehehehe), dan kalo beli pasti dapet diskon karena ada banyak mantan kolega gua di sana yang pada baek ati.

Sekarang yang ada di kepala gua cuma ngelewatin Natal di Bandung taun ini. Gua pengen ngerayain sama anak-anak BSG yang kayaknya udah seabad gak pernah gua liat lagi. Kalo bisa sih caroling lagi kayak tiga tahun yang lalu, tapi gua akan cukup puas cuma dengan nyanyi 12 Days of Christmas (tapi wajib pake gerakan!). Itu lagu Natal fave gua! Meskipun kedengarannya konyol, tapi sebenernya punya arti yang dalem. Setelah kebaktian dan minum apple cider bareng-bareng di BIC, gua pengen ngerumpi sampe tengah malem di cafe ama temen-temen gua, ngobrol ngalor ngidul ngelepas kangen, diingetin kalo kita semua masih punya mimpi yang perlu terus diperjuangin, dan juga masalah yang pasti bisa diatasi. Kadang kita lupa akan hal-hal kayak gitu karena tenggelam sama rutinitas sehari-hari, jadi perlu juga diingetin.

Ya udah deh... untung masih ada pesta thanksgiving yang diundur hari Minggu besok di Depok, jadi kekangenan gua ini bisa terobatin dikit dengan bayangan daging kalkun dan mashed potatoes yang nikmat...slurrp...slurrp...gak ada hubungannya sih, gua cuma lagi food coma ajah jadinya ngelantur kayak gini.

Happy Thanksgiving aja deh untuk mereka yang ngerayain! (meskipun kebanyakan mereka itu kayaknya gak akan ngerti apa yang gua omongin di sini, hehehe...salah sendiri kenapa males belajar bahasa Indonesia)

AAW, HIGH HEELS!

Another woman stuff I can’t understand besides mascara (that takes my precious time to put it on my eye lashes only to look like a ghost when I wash my face afterwards) is high heel shoes. I just can’t understand why most women choose to suffer wearing them around.
I had a pair once, with extremely high and sharp heels that I think I can kill someone with it. They’re lovely, but I only wore them twice before threw them away. The first time was on my sister’s wedding – soon after it’s over I got off the car with them on my arms, and started trotting to the house with bare feet. Second time, I dared to do that to church which was just around the corner of my boarding house and I was tempted to walk home without them, cos it was such a torture to wear them.
Anyway, someone just gave me another pair, and my normal heel shoes are about to fall apart so I didn’t want to risk it when going to church last Sunday. So I wore these high heel shoes but just standing with bare feet during the service. And as Mariana and I were waiting for the bus in Jakarta heat (after walking a little around the mall), I whined about my dislike toward that kind of shoes. I really missed my comfortable sneakers and flipflops. Too bad they just don’t match with skirts, eh?
But anyway, I’ve just bought a lovely pair of shoes. And they are pretty, and have no heel at all. I think I will never wear any high heels anymore. I’d rather be not so pretty without them, but free to move around comfortably, than walk like a robot and wince all the time from the pain on my feet muscle!

SHOPPING AND ME

are actually not good friends. It's one of least fave things to do. So, you'll enjoy shopping with me, guys, cos it is usually super fast, and not very often.

MOSQUITO V CROCODILE (WHICH ONE IS WORSE?)

To be honest, I’d never seen more mosquitoes in my whole life than last night.

Mosquitoes that had lain dormant through the long drought now hatched and rose from the forest floor in clouds so thick they filled our mouths and nostrils. I learned to draw back my lips and breathe slowly through my teeth so I wouldn’t choke on mosquitoes. When they’d covered our hands and faces with red welts they flew up our sleeves and needled our armpits. We scratched ourselves raw. There were always more mosquitoes rising up from the road like great columns of smoke, always moving ahead of us, and we dreaded them.

Alright, alright, it was not that bad. I just quoted the paragraph above from Leah Price’s account on a fateful night in Congo—from the Poisonwood Bible I was eagerly reading last night. My boss’ wife lent the thick novel when I was spending nights at the hospital, knocked out by two mosquito bites that carried dengue virus, and it almost killed me. However, I only had time to read it 7 months later, with the mosquitoes buzzing around me I could not help picking up the mosquito swatter with my right hand while my other hand held the book where my eyes laid on. Really, you don’t have to be as skilled as Maria Sharapova in swaying the racket here and there, to kill thousands of them (ok, ok, here I am exaggerating again, hundreds), without even have to look at them. The racket rattled vigorously, piercing the silence in the dead of the night, and those stinking animals were falling to the ground with roasted bodies. But boy did they ever cease to exist? No! I now regretted leaving behind my repellant in Jakarta.

Now mosquitoes have risen to the top of my least fave animal list, along with the ugly crocodiles I once saw piling up on top of each other in a crocodile farm. I felt sorry for them to have such a boring life only to end up being made bags. But I even feel sorrier for any naïve girl that had been fooled by an ugly crocodile who disguised himself in a form of a charming prince.

Mosquito vs crocodile, which one is worse? You tell me, cos they both are the same revolving to me.

HENRY’S FIRST JOURNAL PAGE

“today my aunty come to my house at 08.30 and my father change audiotape in his car she wants to follow me to tasikmalaya this night I watc the fast and the furious tokyo drift she has a television but broken my aunti picked up her softlence in her eyes no doubt if she don’t pick up her softlence her eyes cant breath but if she don’t pick up her soflence she can see well she always use a glasses on her eye
Signed, Henry.”

Ha, that’s some of my nephew’s first entry on his first diary in his 7 years of life. He begged for a company before going to bed and I asked him for one more minute to finish journaling, and five more to take off my contacts before lying down with him. He was so inspired that he decided to also write his own journal from now on, and of course he was astonished to see me pluck out a stuff out of my eye balls, which was a good opportunity for me to lecture him on how important it is not to watch TV too close and not spend the whole day with his playstation. However, I didn’t tell him that it was really reading that make your eyes go bad.

By the way, I don’t know his English grade is, but he got 2.5 (0 is the worst and 10 is the best) on Mandarin subject, despite his grandfather fluency in it. And sure thing, he still has to work on punctuation marks.

THE BRIDGE (s)

These bridges are scary, but we survived crossing them somehow. One of them reminded me of a particular song by my fave singer Lenny LeBlanc, that we played again and again during that trip (among with other 5 tapes we took with us).

The Bridge

When I was a boy growin’ up down on the Emerald coast
Fishin’ with my brother is what I remember the most
Now we told stories and dreamed a lot
On the way down to that favorite spot
There it was so tall and gray
We were scared to death
but we couldn’t wait to cross

The bridge to the other side
To a place we were sure was paradise
And the bridge rumbled and it swayed
Even though we were afraid
We still crossed over the bridge

A few years later it was time to leave my home
Traded my school days for a life out on the road
They said I had what it took
Things you can’t learn from a book
And if I did just what they said
I could go all the way across

The bridge to the other side
To a place I was sure was paradise
And the bridge rumbled and it swayed
They said I’d had it made
When I crossed over the bridge

All that I’ve seen and done
Has left me with this thought
I pray that my children
Would find the faith to cross

The bridge to the other side
To a place that I know is paradise
And I pray that if they’re ever lost
They’ll see God made a cross…the bridge

ANIMALS ON SURVEY

Among them were some bunnies in the boonies, some buddy-buddy lambs (anyway we accidentally broke a lamb’s leg with our car, oohhh!), fish in the bathroom, and a dead big fish that I french-kissed!

A DAY CLOSE TO NATURE

Oh happy day! Gone was the routine of waking up at 5 am and drove a lot to do/say the same things over and over again. Now it’s the time to play! For the sake of good pictures, I forced myself to smile when it was really painful to do so (I had three canker sores in my mouth, what a misery! –my lip were all swollen like Angelina Jolie’s, only not pretty)

CAVENTURERS

Here are some adventurers ready to enter the cave full of bats and their guapo. We actually paid the guide to NOT come with us hehehe….

THERE’S MORE WHERE THAT CAME FROM

Is another English phrase I learned during the trip. We could say it on so many occasions like giving/getting a hug, giving/getting candies or cookies, and.. farting (lol!)

Anyway, as I came across the pic of coffee trees, and found an old pic of us drinking at starbucks, I thought about the trees and what they might have said to us if only they could talk.

ONE SPECIAL EVENT

A night before her bday, we had dinner at a nice restaurant where there was also a bakery. I spotted some mini cakes and I wondered if I should buy one for Gina. Linda and I made a little bit plot when she was in the bathroom, but as we were heading for the exit door (passing those mini cakes and bread) she said, “Mmm..maybe we can buy one for my bday tomorrow”.
“Darn!” said Linda. “We were just talking about that.”
Anyway, I sneaked back to the bakery and asked if they could make some ‘real’ bday cake which size was bigger than a bite, and to my surprise, they said yes (remember, we were in the middle of nowhere back then). Then I realized I had no money with me to pay the down payment, but the owners were very nice and let me get away with it. I chose a round blackforrest tart and I told them to deliver it to our room the following day, and we swap our cell phone numbers too.
Back in the hotel Linda asked whether the cake would have Gina’s name on it and I thought it was a very good idea. They only could do it if we ordered the flowery love shaped pink cake with sticky icing all over it. Anyway, it was pretty, wasn’t it? Afterall, Gina always considers me a sappy love kind of girl hehehe

GHOSTLY HUT WHERE WE STAYED

The scenery and waterfalls were gorgeous, but it was freezing cold. I was wrapped in three blankets and snuggled with the gals, but still I was shivering…BRRRRRRR…

SURVEY KIT

(I feel like I should talking bout my last survey trip right now but alas, I haven’t been able to upload pictures successfully these days—so here is another pictureless post)

Things that should be in my travel bag before leaving on survey:

Bubble gum; weapon against ear pain during the flight.

Mosquito repellant; makes skin dry but don’t mind it as long as I don’t get dengue fever anymore.

Face paper; important to reduce the oil on your face during all-day long activity in the heat.

Balinese sarong; just in case the place where you stay doesn’t have decent blanket or sheet.

Anti-bacterial powder: effective to reduce the itch from the bugs (too bad I forgot this on my last survey so now I have lots of scars on my leg from scratching it too hard)

Journal: most important—I’m addicted to writing on it

Books: a great way to spend the time if your plane is delayed

Snacks: good strategy to anticipate stingy airlines who will only give you a cup of water, period.

Me and My Victim (A Sleeping Beauty)

Tee-hee! This is Silly-Willy-Nilly team in action on our last survey day!
“Do you have scissors?” I asked outloud, while my heart meant to say ‘comb’. We were driving back to the hotel from the library.
“What are you cutting?” Gina asked back, maybe suspicious that I would cut her hair wildly.
Anyway, she dozed off while I slowly plaited her hair. I tried my best to do it as neatly as possible like those professional hair ‘plaitters’ in Bali do, but alas, it came out a mess.
I tried to compensate (read, worsen) it by attaching a Swiss flag I got from our fruit salad the night before, and also with some colorful cotton buds.
I could hardly believe that she was confident enough to walk around the ‘oleh-oleh’ store with hair like that, though she felt like a walking thrash can (like she admitted afterwards).
And I could not stop giggling while following her like a tail. Nevertheless, the waitress at a café complimented her by saying, “Your hair looks cute, like a kid’s.”
Now, every time I need a good laugh, I just remember that moment, and giggle to my heart’s content.
Gina, you are totally a bule gilaaaaaaaaaa……………..

STONES

Sadly, I think I’ve lost some friends who had been turned into stones. Can’t you believe it? I found it hard to believe but that is so true. Stones don’t respond. Stones don’t communicate. Stones don’t react. Stones are hard. Hard to understand. I wish I could make them talk, but I’m just a human. I ain’t water which (as it is said) could go through them with many persistent drops. My patience is running out. I'm afraid I have been turned into one too.

PATRICIA'S PAT

I suddenly think about the language of love we discussed on our last team-building session about a month ago. I found it hard to choose which one (out of five: physical touch, act of service, quality time, words of appreciation, and gift-giving) I liked the best. It is known that words of appreciation is big in American culture, but least favorite among Asian people. I think it’s true, but I still like it (maybe ‘need’ is a better word), because I found it helpful to boost my self confidence which most of the time tends to be inadequate.
A week ago I was asked to help interpret in my org family gathering trip, hence I had to overcome one of my biggest fears, i.e. public speaking. They even set up a stage, quite far away from the tent where the seats were put and people gathered. Talking like an MC is not my stuff, let alone in English, my third language. But I was gladly surprised that I didn’t shake nor tremble. However, my nervousness came in a different shape, i.e. less concentration (at least I think I have a better memory than that day). I had no preparation too, since I had no idea of what they would talk about. Anyway, I tried my best, but it did not measure up to my standards. I forgot lots of stuff and had to ask the speakers to repeat what they’d said.
And I thought what a failure it was, my interpreting job. Until afterwards, came an elderly lady. Her name is Patricia. She works in the kitchen, cleaning and serving people in the office who need tea or coffee. She shook my hand and patted my shoulder saying, “Thank you very much for translating. The devotional message was really great and thanks to you I could understand it.” And I was too stunned to even say ‘you’re very welcome’. Had she said something like, “Good job, you’re so smart, or your English is awesome,” it probably would not have affected me that much. But knowing that what I did was useful and bless others is even far more pleasant than hearing how smart or great I sound. And I’m glad that I had an opportunity to know that at least one person could benefit from the mediocre performance I gave.
The theme of the trip was ‘many hands one heart’, and among all those different roles played with so many hands, there was also Patricia’s patting hand, and I had a privilege to enjoy that.

INVISIBLE ENEMIES

How can you fight or avoid something that you can’t even see, hence you don’t know what it is, and you can only feel it once it’s too late, because it has attacked you first?

Well, no…not talking bout the evil spirit or any spiritual warfare here, but I am talking about….pollen. Yeah, every morning when I wake up I ask God for a little less…snot. No kidding. I am tired of feeling alarmed of what I’m gonna feel today, whether I once again will suffer from this obnoxious rhinitis, and my beautiful day will be ruined because I can’t even breathe the air with my clogged nose.

Oh Lord, I hope this day is good.

A SHORT NOTE FOR JV

(A friend that I used to miss a lot)

Sometimes I caught myself secretly hoping that somehow your computer crashed and that’s why you suddenly stopped writing your brief but frequent emails like you used to.
Or, that someone stole your cellphone and you lost my number so you could not contact me anymore.
Or, you banged your head so hard that you suffer a severe amnesia and that’s why you forgot me, and the promise you made about three months ago.
Or, stepping out of your comfort zone, you would tell me that you don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore.
But how can I understand silence? You have taught me that silence is not always gold. Your silence is loud and deafening. And I don’t like it.
(Anyway, I pray that none of the three top things above happened or will ever happen to you. I just want to believe that you don’t keep in touch with me because you can’t (though you want to), and not because you don’t want to (though you can))