Thursday, January 27, 2011

Coming Back

A beloved ex-student tagged me in a facebook post about the brain-drain related case. It was nice to know and find out that you are missed. However, reading the article carefully got me thinking about the prospect of going back home.

Just before I departed to the land of Great Brittain, I was full of determination that whatever happen, I will still go back home and build my country. Just several days before the departure, I met my head of the study program and asked her whether I can still teach there again after I come back. She said wisely, "Don't rush in making the decision. Once you go abroad, many things will happen and you might change your mind. I am giving you the time to rethink that decision."

And yeah, just after I stepped my feet in this land of liberty, I started seeing things differently. There are things that I could never think would happen in Indonesia, and I love that. I enjoy the freedom and liberty. And just like what the article mentioned, things are more safe and simple. The cultural comparison also took place. I couldn't help but comparing the culture, how people are more organized and responsible in this society.

On the other hand, I started seeing Indonesia in a very different perspective. It is like seeing it from outside the box. And interestingly, it gave me different things to boggle and consider. How my way of being is just very different, leading me to reflect all the things I've done, how I did those things. Some things led me to the joy and happiness of improving myself, but for some others, I could not even look back because they were too awful and shameful.

Worse than that, there was even a point in which I was ashamed of being an Indonesian. You know what people said about us? That Indonesia is a rich and respectful country. Yet, majority of the people here know nothing about Indonesia. For people who tried to prove that Indonesia is better than Malaysia, you guys will have a heart attack here. People know about Malaysia, Singapore, and Thailand. But most of them heard the name of Indonesia for the first time when I mentioned my origin.

In that lowest point, a friend told me, "That is the reason why you were sent abroad. You see the condition, and it's your task to return and educate people of Indonesia. You have to make the change!"

But, I am not sure anymore what am I going to do after I finish this course. Thus came the hardest question from a friend during lunchtime today, "What is your plan for next year?"

I don't know. I just don't know.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Hope

I saw you sitting all alone in the corner of this room. It was lifeless, losing the radiance of hope that you used to bring. You were grim, feeling like you were casted aside by the world. Voiceless with an empty gaze towards the wall. I could even feel the stillness of the blood in the veins. Depressing, frustrating, yet ironic.

Ironic, for you were the one acting so happy and cheerful before. I could see the happiness and the sunrays reflected
on your eyes. The very eyes that contained both the sun and the rainbow. But then, it changed. You became a lifeless doll with no spark in that glance. No warmth, as if your soul was frozen in the emanation of absolute zero. The pale skin of yours told me the story, how you gave your heart to someone. You gave it to the one, wholly and thoroughly. You believed in the future, the one happy dream you shared with. But then, it froze and crashed. Not just your heart, but also the whole you. You must have crashed very hard, shattering your frozen stature into million pieces.

It’s hard. Very difficult, I know. Rebuilding your self from the million shattering shards. Along the way, you found that those shards hurt you so deep. You stepped on it, and you could not continue along the way. Heck, the floating shards eventually blinded you from seeing what lied ahead. The bigger piece might pierce your chest and stab your very soul. Were those the reasons you exiled yourself in the corner of the room and not wanting to walk ahead?

I did. That was what I felt. Gazing a far, ready to burst into tears at any second. Feeling hollow and incomplete, trying to torn myself apart more and more, only to get rid of this feeling of emptiness. I too was afraid of even rebuilding myself, for I thought the rebuilding would then get destructed later on. Useless and alone. It was not until I saw you from the different corner of this solitude that I braced myself and approached you.

Let’s ignite a small flame here! I want to see a spark of hope. I know you are strong. In fact, why don’t we build a new structure? I can shield you from those painful shard. We can share this pain and build a new slate. Afterall, who knows the pain more than us? You at least know how I felt, and what to do. I might not understand completely your experiene, your pain and sorrow. But I could be all ears. After all, we hit the rock bottom. What could be worse than that, eh?

It doesn’t matter if you lost your hope for the old world. Let’s build a new world! Slowly, we’re walking this path together. We can mend our hearts together, rejuvenating our very core with the sprinkled water of companionship. And we can go seeing the first sunrise in our reconstructed world.

Dedicated to all friends who became the victim of December-January Blue. The moment when many people broke up.

Thursday, January 06, 2011

The Kitchen: Lock Down!

It's the beginning of 2011. But rather than having a blasting celebration for New Year, I just spent the last second of 2010 in my own room. Pouring a bottle of champagne into my mug (yes, a mug, not even a glass). No party, no firework, no one. The college was pretty much dead. I learned my lesson, never stay in Cambridge during New Year's Eve!

The kicking start of the year was not that striking. There were some bad things, but at least they were not as BAAAAD as the one that I had on the previous year. With the last penny in my pocket (and this is a literal meaning), I stocked my food ration. According to the calculation, I should manage to survive until the next delivery of living allowance. Chicken breast fillet, check! Instant noodles, check! Eggs, check! Four pints of milk, check! Mushrooms, check! Corned Beef, check! Rice packs, check!

Yet, something unpredictable came into realization on January 4. Due to the nasty condition of the kitchen, with all the rubbish and trash everywhere, the housekeeping department decided to shut it down. They even put a padlock on the door and a fancy paper with the most annoying poem for my stomach. "This kitchen is closed until further notice!"

W-H-A-T????? What about my chicken breast fillet???? January 4 was the last day I could cook them in a good condition. What about my milk? How can I eat my cereal without any milk? And I still had around 2,5 pints there? What about my corned beef? I could eat a can of that for three meals! What about my lovely wok? How can I cook???

Luckily I stored the instant noodles in my room. They were intended to be the meal in time of dire need. And as I could not bear the hunger any longer, two packs of Indomie were meeting my belly. Only a single pack remained.

The dinning hall has been opened as well. Suddenly, the thought of hall's meal sprung and promising the inevitable delicacy. But still, when I tasted it, the quality remained the same. What other choices did I have, anyway? I started counting the hour as my belly started humming and waited for the bell. I must have sunk so low. I could still eat there, at least I could pay later, I thought. The problem was, I haven't topped up my meal credit. After two meals, the kitchen staff asked me, "You should top up your credit as soon as possible!"

GYAAAA! I was really tempted to answer, "With whaat? Do you accept leaves as the down payment? At least reopen the kitchen, so I could use them and not dine here!!!!" But I only nodded in silence.

Let me get back into the room and check the supply. A jar of Chinese chili, a jar of Sambal Terasi, and two packs of microwavable rice. Those will be my weekend menu, then. Ah well, I've been through the same situation when I grew up. That won't be that big problem. Recalling the moment when a piece of fried chicken thigh was very precious and 'expensive', this is not a bad thing. And without this tragedy, there won't be any story to tell later on. Hehehehe!