Number 2

No, not the bathroom thing, the challenge silly. It's here.

Beat Me, Why Don’t cha?

Although verbally I have moderately good English, I'm a lousy English writer. It's not that I don't make sense, which I would still do even though I would be able to write, it’s more of my grammar that reeks to the core. I've put ikansapi into too much pain already checking for mistakes in my writing. The amounts of revisions are shameful, shameful I tell you! *Face in hands.

After the recent assignment to write a feature in a magazine not long ago (*ehem smug), I realize I have to challenge myself to practice. So here goes. I challenge myself to upload a writing every 2 days for 2 months. Hmm... 30 writings… I’m intimidated :P. It’s predicable that I got this idea from ikansapi. She loves challenges! I also got this idea from a Brooke Schoenman , a travel writer that challenged herself to upload a writing EVERY SINGLE DAY ABOUT TRAVELING! Jes (the Latin ‘yes’, not a typo), there is much to be said about traveling. But writing about it, or about anything actually, takes in a lot of effort. Being that said, this task is nothing original (but what is besides Nescafe original 3 in 1 coffee that taste blegh!? I would still drink it though), but will still be hard for me that usually blogs once a month.  

So what’s the tizzle of this chizzle (target of this challenge)? Well, to improve my grammar of course! And to make myself familiar with English writing, terms, getting use to express my thoughts and points, and to be able to cook (which is totally out of topic but I’m just saying).

One of my tactics to ace this task of mine is to write slower. I wish I was a high paid executive secretary so I can type 3 gazillion words in 10 seconds, but I’m not, and my job doesn’t demand it. But apparently when I write, I imagine being one. I’m not sure why. I write really fast and I miss letters, words, and my favorite button is the ‘backspace’. Then it becomes more of a ramble than something worth reading. I don’t think being able to type fast is cool, but I just wanna be able to catch whatever is in my mind (wow, I just typed that sentence without any ‘backspace’, such an achievement! Trumpets, please!). I’m a scatter thinker and ideas are easily found as they easily disappear.  So, I have to catch those ideas while they’re in my head but it really doesn’t help the quality of what is actually being said. Am I already in circles?  

During and after the challenge I will evaluate the writings with my English teachers (including ikansapi if she is willing) and see the progress I have made. Writings will include blogs here (still in line with the idea of this blog), Indohoy writings, and other things that will probably be mentioned here … but not necessarily. I will, however, report if I fail to miss a writing schedule.

To whoever you are, you’re welcome to criticize and give advice. I’m all for it. Just don’t pick your bellybutton and then tell me about it. That’s just wrong. *Slap! (Ok.. Ok… I’m back on track) I hope the slogan practice makes perfects work here.

By the time you reach this sentence, consider yourself already involved in the challenge. You just read my first writing. What did you think 'Mister with mask and goggles on underwater'?

Olrighty then. See you Tuesday!

Another Birthday Blog! Yay!!!

Yaps I’m 31 today. And how is it being 31? Well to be honest, it’s no different than any other day J. It’s not a drastic change like turning from 20 something to 30 something. It’s just today. And I did pass the day as an ordinary day.

Or so I thought?!

After dinner, surprisingly, the guys prepared a little ‘fun’ for my B’day. They ambushed me with raw cake dough, flour, and cake icing. Then of course we had a little war, which ended with a few ‘casualties’, but it was all fun. I looked like a horrific witch after the war with my hair all curly and big.

I don’t know why the guys think that I don’t deserve a nice sweet birthday party, one with a cake, friends surrounding, candles, decorations, and PRESENTS!!! What kind of girl do they take me for? Ugh! Khihihihi… No seriously?!

Man, I had to wash my hair 6 or 7 times just to get the egg stench out of it. Blegh! And I’m still not convince that it’s all out. Some of my hair feels different. Is it suppose to feel like this? 

But I couldn’t stop smiling in the shower. It was an awesome 30 minutes, just the right closure for the night. And you know what, no one is too old for this. One can be to ‘serious’ but never too old. I’m glad everyone had fun; and a second shower!

So, I heard they’re making it in to abbreviation: HBD? Come on people! Really?! Make some effort to write ‘Happy Birthday!’

I Have a New Bed

It’s been a while since I’ve blog. I’ve been avoiding it since I didn’t know how to write about this specific topic although I eventually had to. But now, I’m ready.

So, not only blogging, it’s also been a while since I’ve slept in my own bed in Bandung. I’ve been sleeping my parent’s bed. Not because I want to cramp up my parents at an inappropriate age. It’s because my father died about 2 months ago, and I’ve been keeping my mum company in their bed.

My father is the nicest man in the world. He died while taking an afternoon nap at home, alone. Mum just stepped out to do her usual exercise and came home to find dad gone still in bed. No fuss, no diseases, no hospitals, no nothing. He just stepped out. I so wished that he didn’t go alone, but that’s just how nice he is. And knowing him, that’s how he wanted it. He never wanted to hassle anyone.

I’ve learned so much from the death of my father. That probably sounds weird since I should be devastated and crushed and yada yada yada, but it’s the truth. Of course, it broke my heart that my father is no longer around. Home is different without his presence. It’s the little things that remind me that he no longer is around. His pants are no longer hang behind the master bedroom door, there is no cup on the coffee table in the afternoon, the study desk isn’t a mess by his notes and scattered newspaper, and so many other little things that justifies he’s no longer here. But I’ve learned more than I lost.

I learned that community living is such a great thing compared to the individual life. I’ve learned that I was more prepared than I thought I would be. I’ve learned that my mother is an unbelievable woman who is far stronger than I am, no matter how solid I look. I’ve learned that the amount of people that come to your funeral and what they say reflects what kind of person you really are. I also learned more about my father from the people that send their condolences. Just a short list to the many other things I discovered out of this event. I’m sure I’ll blog them one by one in the future, just not today. So, I’m a kid without a father, and that’s what it’s gonna be. And this entry is a ‘just saying’ blog. Oh well…

And guess what? He checked out on a Saturday night, just as my grandfather did not long ago. I’m sure there’s a social thing going on here :P

Wrapped Around in the Past

This is an ikat cloth that was given to me by Ida, a local Wetar girl that came from Alor. Her grandmother gave it to her. Now before you start hating me because I'm so cruel to take this away from her, hear me out.

I fell in love with it the first time I laid my eyes on it. Not only because it had colors that I don't see often in an ikat store, but also because Ida was wearing it on a regular basis making it really wearable. She was wearing it in the kitchen one ordinary day. I stared at it for some time. I couldn't take my eyes of it. I told her I was so sad that her grandmother made it for her, and I wouldn't ask for it since it had personal values.

The same day, later in the night, Ida came to see me and gave it to me. I couldn't accept it. But she insisted, explaining that her grandmother makes a lot of these and it's alright to let one go. I was overwhelmed. 

It's a bit heavy. It slides down a bit every time I use it, but really comfortable. I some times use it as a blanket on hot nights. Mozzies love me. To be honest, wearing it made me feel feminine, elegant, and
very traditionally beautiful.

Which comes down to the current day. I bought another 2 ikat while traveling Flores. I couldn't help it. I fell in love instantly with these two (the small one is just a small ban to tie your waist). I considered hard before buying any of them. Where and when can I use them? Can I take care of them? Is the hassle worth the buy?
My considerations ended to 'I can use it at home' on lazy days. It's the only time I can use it in the city. I can't imagine using it in to town. Not because of stares, but of impracticality.

Then I worry. For someone that loves these hand made treasures, I can only wear them at home. And yet, those like me aren't very much. People are letting go of this tradition. I worry, how can we preserve it if we don't care?

Thinking of what Cindy said, humans skin are so bland of color and texture. Maybe we were not suppose to have this bland cover. Maybe our ancestors were right with their colorful sarongs and ikats and batiks. It was never bland for the elder generation.

The native people of Flores that have been exposed to the modern life still use it because they are still tied to many obligations such as: one must have one when wed and one must wear one during traditional ceremonies which they still hold. However, when talking to these so called modern types, I get the vibe that they would leave this tradition if they could. I detected this vibe, just underneath the surface. What do us city folks have obligation to? None.

I'm trying to find a solution. A solution on how we can wear ikats, or batik or what ever traditional cloth we've made in the past, more practically. Theoretically, these cloths are results of a long research by our ancestors which considered the climate, the activity and such. But now... well... we don't do as what our great grand parents did, so should we leave it all behind too?

This doesn't conclude anything. It's a ramble of my concerns of old tradition I wish I knew how preserve. The most important question is always how?

Or maybe... we don't have to :(?

My Grandfather Went Out On A Saturday Night

my mum (middle) between her sisters

My grandftather died last Saturday night. He went out that night (badam-bam-ching!). He was my mums father. I didn't know him well because he lives in Makassar, and I only drop by about max. once a year.

All I know is that he was a man that means well, very stubborn, and loves to 'shout' rather than use the human friendly frequency (I wonder if I'm part dolphin?). But I do remember, as a kid, he use to take care of me when mum needed to multitask. He's a great nurturer to kids, especially when he was still a bit younger and stronger. He still took great care of my cousins when they were little which wasn't long ago.

My mum is getting older. I was anxious how she would deal with it. I just called her. She seemed to have a sore voice, I suspect because of some deal of crying. I asked her where she was at the time, I was ready to calm her down... and this was her answer:

"Oh iya Nuni (my nick), ini Mami lagi makan-makan ama semuanya. Makan coto." (Oh yes Nuni, I'm just and eating out with the family. Eating Coto.) In the background I could hear my aunts laughing, my uncle joking around, and I bet my dad was just keeping his cool as always. With a bit of a jaw drop, I wondered, so... where's all the tears? Beats me, but I'm glad they accepted it well. Death is part of lives, and it's not something we can reverse. They do say, it's easier to cross over if no one cries for you too long. So I guess my mum and whole family wants grandpa to cross peacefully.

He did die at home, which is a good thing, and because he was really old. It was his time I guess. I know that they love him, as hard as he was. I sure do even though I didn't know him that well. I have one or two memories of him taking good care of me, and at least without him, I wouldn't be here. 

May his soul rest in peace.

LOL

It was a night when I dropped by Renny's house, a co-worker, when Rudhy was also there. We happen to just chat and just had to use a bit of imagination to survive another night in Wetar. We were talking about how the docter got a bike from the company for his needs. We had a little fun with that fact. Once you know it, Renny almost fell off her seat of laughing, I couldn't stand up straight because I was laughing so hard, and Rudhy's eyes looks like a frown. Renny applaud my wild imagination. And with that, I started wondering, maybe I am a bit funny. I also started thinking, why do I have to follow my funny gene, especially since I 'understand' that being funny is a masculine trait? 

3 months later ...

I recently went to Timor Leste to visit Inge, a college friend, since her hubby happen to work in this country. Inge is a lovely delightful humorist gal. She might look mean, but trust me, she's a leaking bucket a.k.a ember bocor! So, during my 4 days 6 night stay there, I had a lot of laughs. And by a lot I mean A LOT! Not to mention Edmund, her hubby, was in town and he too had a competing sense of humor. So all we were was a bunch of silly people that like to use our imagination and laze our days out.

One night, we decided to have Indian (South Asia not America, although it would be awesome to have native American food,ohh.. FOCUS!) cuisine. Yes, Timor Leste has tonnes of affordable (by the expat community) yet delicious International restaurants. Anyways, we were waiting on our food when we started to be... umm... sarcastic; I can't really say funny cos we were kinda making fun of the Indian culture. And suddenly, my stomach cramped up because we were so funny.

As I sit there holding my stomach of ache and looking at Inge, laughing so hard I think she peed a bit (isn't hard to hold it in when you're 6 month pregnant?), I realize, hmm.. maybe I am a bit funny?

I'm not sure why lately, during these laughs, my epiphany pops up. It's probably because I think that people don't have a hard laugh as often once they get older. I try to 'analyze' (ok ok... sue me for trying to figure things out) and see how we can have these sessions more often. My conclusion so far, most of the time, it does take a comedian to have a lot of fun.

I always though I have friends that are much funnier than I am. I always have a blast laughing with them, and at their jokes, sarcastic or not. So I always thought maybe I can be spared from one masculine trait: being funny. Because of these 'incidents', I thought wrong. Funny, I am, a bit.

Being said that, I need to find a gay guy trapped in a straight mans taste, or else I'll be single fo'eeeeevvvvvvaaaaaaaaa.... :(( but have a few laughs along the way :P (I just had to)