It’s in Dubai Airport that my dream went into pieces. The moment of realization that I am leaving Cambridge came there, as I sat in front of Gate 222. I was surrounded by many other Indonesians, shattering my illusion of racial diversity that I had in Cambridge.
There will be no more cute blondes with blue eyes, or cute nerd gingers. There will be no more pints of Stella Artois, there will be no more weekly visit to The Bird. The images of Market Square flashed in my mind, raising the regret that I had there. After almost a year living in Cambridge, buying my midnight burger in Trailer of Life and Trailer of Death, Ostrich Burger hasn’t touched my tongue yet.
And another image of room B-19 in Norfolk Building popped up in my head. I don’t know who the recent occupant is, yet the setting will forever remain unchanged in my dream. A small room with many books, the place where I spent my life building new life and new family in UK.
A new family was born there, in the dark small hall. Can’t tell everyone how special that hall is for me, since that feeling is undescribable. And all those images left me to tears. Because the illusion called ‘family’ is shattered.
Now I’m back with my old family. Even worse, the lady sitting next to me started to blabber about system in Indonesia, yet quite illogical. Sigh!
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Ode to B-19
As I walked down from the city centre to St. Edmund's College, the feeling was different. Usually I went straight to my room there and lied down on the bed. Yet, the room key was no longer in my possession. It was in the receptionist along with my university card.
Yet my feet moved swiftly, guiding me along the way. Every step, every stone, and every path screamed the same thing. They led me back to my home.
B-19 in St. Edmund's College.
My home.
The place where I built my new family.
The place where I started embracing my life.
The place where I learned things.
The place where I left my heart....
Here in Cambridge,
Here in Britain.
Yet my feet moved swiftly, guiding me along the way. Every step, every stone, and every path screamed the same thing. They led me back to my home.
B-19 in St. Edmund's College.
My home.
The place where I built my new family.
The place where I started embracing my life.
The place where I learned things.
The place where I left my heart....
Here in Cambridge,
Here in Britain.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Rajutan Sepi
Di dalam sunyi
aku merajut sang kata
yang telah terlupakan
ditelan sepinya keheningan.
Sang kata yang tercerai-berai,
terhambur tanpa suara
dihentak kasar oleh sang sepi.
Tak lagi bermakna.
kosong
nol
...
..
.
aku merajut sang kata
yang telah terlupakan
ditelan sepinya keheningan.
Sang kata yang tercerai-berai,
terhambur tanpa suara
dihentak kasar oleh sang sepi.
Tak lagi bermakna.
kosong
nol
...
..
.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Dear Someone 4
Dear,
You look so old and tired recently. I know you're exhausted, you just told me several months ago. Hhhh, I shouldn't care though. I shouldn't. Yet I couldn't help noticing your new profile picture in Facebook. That picture does not resemble the you I knew. Yes, it's your smile, but without the special spark in your eyes.
I understand your regret of throwing away your dream. I can see your regret for the past crimes to atone. They're there, in your words. In your effort to reach me back. In your every sentence. I dealt with language, remember? I can read between the line.
You're just so tired and lonely.
Is this something you deserve to get for all the games you played?
A divine curse for breaking your vow to Him?
Of all people, you should know better than that.
You should.....
You look so old and tired recently. I know you're exhausted, you just told me several months ago. Hhhh, I shouldn't care though. I shouldn't. Yet I couldn't help noticing your new profile picture in Facebook. That picture does not resemble the you I knew. Yes, it's your smile, but without the special spark in your eyes.
I understand your regret of throwing away your dream. I can see your regret for the past crimes to atone. They're there, in your words. In your effort to reach me back. In your every sentence. I dealt with language, remember? I can read between the line.
You're just so tired and lonely.
Is this something you deserve to get for all the games you played?
A divine curse for breaking your vow to Him?
Of all people, you should know better than that.
You should.....
Thursday, July 07, 2011
Effeminacy
Just today, I encountered an offensive comment as a reply for my tweet. It all started when I joked about applying for a job as fashion buyer. And no, I did not intend to create an irony out of the gender expectation of some jobs. It's more because of the fact that I am fashion blind.
I have too many encounters with various post-structuralist theories that they changed my perspective about gender. After all, gender is a mere social construction. Yet, similar to the case of religion –another social construction, people tend to be blinded by the skin and ignore the core problem. Commoners are trapped just in the construction, creating a false God out of the construction, consequently neglecting the true deity embodying the framework. Gee, I think I should stop talking about this religion mumbo-jumbo, or this writing will turn into yet another religious critique.
“I think you should try applying for the job, sir. It suits you, you’re a bit effeminate! :p”
The word ‘effeminate’ used to be a term I hated. It has haunted me for years, controlled my behavior, and hindered me from embracing the real value of life. Yes, the offensive word carrying social gender expectation. Being inside the structure and trapped in the traditional masculine hegemony has empowered that word, the word of torture. Spat that word near my ear, and you would boil my blood and stir my emotion.
‘Effeminate’ sure does exercise its power, attacking any man’s Achilles Heel. No sane man (within the cage of traditional gender binary – masculine hegemony) will be willing to hear that term directed to him.
“I am not effeminate! I am a man!” And to prove my manliness, I would beat people saying that word to me senseless. Well, it’s a bit hyperbolic, since I lacked of physical power to do so. But I always assured that the mocker would get something in return. (Gee, I might be the next host for the spirit of vengeance).
Once or twice, the words might be just a joke, non-funny one. But getting accustomed to hear the mockery, I grew more sensitive. Once, my students said that I was effeminate for trying to emulate British Accent. He attacked the accent (yes, for him American accent is manlier, while British accent with all the stresses implies effeminacy), yet I had to hold my anger. It happened in a classroom, my territory, the safe place.
So, what happened today? Did I explode and burst into anger?
No. I did not. Why bother with the old and rotting shell of masculine hegemony? Why bother with outdated gender construction? Gender and sexuality is constructed discursively. People have their own share in the construction process. But it depend on ourselves to accept or to rebel. It’s a ‘Gender Trouble’.
Instead, I pity him. Pity for he is still trapped in the old and archaic masculine hegemony. Pity for he can’t see beyond the structure.
Pity for his bigotry….
and blindness…..
…..
..
DRAG!
I have too many encounters with various post-structuralist theories that they changed my perspective about gender. After all, gender is a mere social construction. Yet, similar to the case of religion –another social construction, people tend to be blinded by the skin and ignore the core problem. Commoners are trapped just in the construction, creating a false God out of the construction, consequently neglecting the true deity embodying the framework. Gee, I think I should stop talking about this religion mumbo-jumbo, or this writing will turn into yet another religious critique.
“I think you should try applying for the job, sir. It suits you, you’re a bit effeminate! :p”
The word ‘effeminate’ used to be a term I hated. It has haunted me for years, controlled my behavior, and hindered me from embracing the real value of life. Yes, the offensive word carrying social gender expectation. Being inside the structure and trapped in the traditional masculine hegemony has empowered that word, the word of torture. Spat that word near my ear, and you would boil my blood and stir my emotion.
‘Effeminate’ sure does exercise its power, attacking any man’s Achilles Heel. No sane man (within the cage of traditional gender binary – masculine hegemony) will be willing to hear that term directed to him.
“I am not effeminate! I am a man!” And to prove my manliness, I would beat people saying that word to me senseless. Well, it’s a bit hyperbolic, since I lacked of physical power to do so. But I always assured that the mocker would get something in return. (Gee, I might be the next host for the spirit of vengeance).
Once or twice, the words might be just a joke, non-funny one. But getting accustomed to hear the mockery, I grew more sensitive. Once, my students said that I was effeminate for trying to emulate British Accent. He attacked the accent (yes, for him American accent is manlier, while British accent with all the stresses implies effeminacy), yet I had to hold my anger. It happened in a classroom, my territory, the safe place.
So, what happened today? Did I explode and burst into anger?
No. I did not. Why bother with the old and rotting shell of masculine hegemony? Why bother with outdated gender construction? Gender and sexuality is constructed discursively. People have their own share in the construction process. But it depend on ourselves to accept or to rebel. It’s a ‘Gender Trouble’.
Instead, I pity him. Pity for he is still trapped in the old and archaic masculine hegemony. Pity for he can’t see beyond the structure.
Pity for his bigotry….
and blindness…..
…..
..
DRAG!
Friday, July 01, 2011
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