Saturday, February 26, 2011

Oma, Wu Zetian, and Mata Hari

Several days ago, on my way to faculty, I encountered a lady - an old lady - suffering from stroke sitting on a wheelchair. She couldn't utter any single sentence, but humming some sounds instead. Behind her, an old guy pushed the wheelchair. He might be the husband, I assume. Well, UK really is a haven for old and / or disable people.

But that special scene drew me back to my grandmother, to my Oma. Just like the lady I saw, she suffered from stroke for years. Finally she gave up at 1998 and passed away, leaving my grandfather feeling devastated over the loss of his loved one. The stroke is such a demon, transforming my uber-active Oma into near-vegetative state. Being a mere child, I could not do anything. Hell, I hated the stench on the bed and made me hesitated to draw near. And I live that regret up to this day. Had I known that I am going to miss her that much, I would sleep next to her and ignoring the reek bed. But regret always comes late, doesn't it?

The recent comments over Oma's youth picture strengthen this sense of retrospect over her. Oma was a very beautiful girl. She was very clever and smart, at least that's what people said. Some even mentioned that she is foxy and cunning. Hmm, that sounds like a deadly combination, eh? Beautiful, popular, but cunning and clever. From various discussion, turned out many people thought that if my Oma lived in an imperial era, she might probably be the second Wu Zetian. Background check on her family also revealed that I have a political bloodline, since Oma's family came from the influential family in ancient China. So, second Wu Zetian is totally possible for her.

She was seen as a dangerous woman by some people. But I am lucky enough to be born as her grandson. It is a common knowledge that grandparents love their grandchildren so much. Thus, I get to feel her great affection. Probably too much affection so some people said that she spoiled me. Hmm, might be (hey, does that mean I am admitting being a spoiled baby?)

But above all, Oma exposed me to chinese culture. If there is a person who knew a lot about that, she must be my grandmother. She is the one bestowing me with the name Li Xi Da. Not only naming me, but she calculated the strokes and change one stroke only to imply better luck and life. Mine was not the first time, since she also changed a part of my aunt's name into something else. No, cannot explain it here since it is very complicated. But above all, she is a very civilized women. She knew all about the culture and tradition.

My first visit to the temple was because of her. It was my first introduction to the Buddhist's and Taoism's pantheon. Starting from that point, she gave me lots of chances to watch Monkey King. She taught me the classical songs of Teressa Teng (which is rooted deeply and will make me punched people in face when they say that the songs are outdated). Her book collection was amazing, ranging from classical stories (Water Margin, Three Kingdoms, Monkey King, and many others) to medical and fortune telling. Sometimes she told parts from the classical epoch as my bedtime stories. Indeed she made me a true Chinese, live up to my "other" name, despite my appearance, dark skin and big eyes.

She is a woman of culture indeed. She lived up her chinese rituals as strong as she practice Christianity. Something bizarre for people hearing that, because society thought that Chinese rituals and Christianity contradicts one another. But she ignored them. In fact, she was also an expert in fortune telling. When she was still alive, she foretold her daughters and me. Something that I will really try to live up to.

Her interest in other cultures motivated her to keep learning. The knowledge that she gained helped her to immerse more in other people's conversation, and by that slowly absorbs new knowledge. That way, she doesn't look very dumb, but at the same time, she learned. Sounds like a perfect spy, eh? When I read about Mata Hari later on, she reminded me a lot about my Oma.

However, she also excelled in the heart domain, at least to me. When I did bad things to her, she would say that I broke her heart. As a child, it was very powerful for me. i never wanted to break her heart, because then I thought that I would lose her. That she would hate me, that she would left me all alone. From people in my extended family, she and my Opa are people who never scolded me. In fact, everytime I had problem with my parents, I ran to them. And they always provided console and comfort.

Now, I just want her to be proud of me, the first grandson and son. I will fulfill her nice parts of prophesy and avoid (as much as I could) the bad parts. What else should I say? Even all these words still can't represent how much I love her, and how much I miss her.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Family Ghost

Warning! If you are a non spiritual person, you will find the context of this text annoying as hell. Continue at your own risk!

It has been a long and tiring week for me. I could not work on my essay for the whole week. My brain is constantly shutting off whenever I felt the crack of the idea in it. That idea turned to be an unfinished one, hanging alone and rotting. As days went by, more cracks appear, but they closed in a amazing pace. Leaving the rest of the idea untouchable and decaying. Slowly but sure, the decay spread through the whole mind, corrupting my sanity, just like a cancer cell multiplying and consuming the healthy part of the body.

Writer's block! That's the common term for my disease. It is not deadly, but can be really offensive for a writer. Yet, I am in the middle of writing my essay for the course. I invested myself so much in the essay and let my life hung on the thin thread. People started noticing that I lost my weight even more, just because I forgot to eat. This tumor made it worse.

Nope, it was not the worst. I had a huge trouble with my interview. Something silly happened and I did not get the expected data. My corroding mind suddenly went berserk outrageously. The cancer had exploded and consuming every piece of my soul and sanity. A dear friend over messenger noticed this and asked me what happened?

I didn't know. I really didn't know. He and my mother knew that there must be a trivial thing stuck in my very soul to cause this humongous rage.

"Maybe your date?" suggested my mother. Date? Seriously? I did not have someone I am seeing right now. I totally invested my life to my essay.

"You need a fresh air. Just stroll around the town!" a dear friend advised me. I'd just strolled my bike till the neighboring village. It's not about the fresh air!

And I realized something. I miss having "crowd" in my room. It felt so lonely, with me as the only soul there. I miss having my late brother beside me. All these months, my room was just a complete solace. Back home, there were many "people" accompanied me. Sometimes, a strayed one came and yield for help or warmth. Sometimes they appeared in my dream. Sometimes, they appeared before me. In short, my old room was a spiritual crossroad.

Living alone in my old house did not give me the chill of loneliness. I got my companion. My late brother sometimes came. There was this old man guarding next to my sleep. Sometimes he even gave me a soft massage when I felt exhausted. But none in my recent room. I guess, I really need to give myself a moment of silence.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Valentine's Reflection : Love and Faith

Today is a valentine's day. Nothing really special, especially since I've been single since last Christmas Eve. The night before, I received a text from a dear friend mentioning that Valentine's Day is an annoying day for single men like us. So far, it never really bothers me at all. I never really found the real spirit of Val's Day. I've celebrated it since elementary school with my best friends by exchanging chocolate. And since then, the stamp for Val's Day is not to celebrate love, but a chocolate party.

But I saw a video link by an ex-student. It's a new Indonesian song about forbidden love. And why it is forbidden? Simply because both of them confess different faith. A foolish matter for me, but still I cannot help it. Being born as Indonesian, I cannot deny that religion has become a supreme power over people's life. Hell, I had to confess that I once was a church activist, right before I got fed up with people's hypocrisy over their religious dogma.

I once fell in love with my junior in High School. She was totally my type. Careless, tomboy, reckless, but smart and critical. (Sigh, I know my type is so weird! Don't give me a refine girl, I would reject her!). People kept saying that we would make a nice couple, since we carried the same traits. Rebellious, careless, direct, frank, rule breaking, and many others. (Another sigh!) But one obstacle lied before us. It's a different religion. It is supposed to be only one, but quite significant.

Still being very naive, I thought that I could overcome the problem. No, no! I was wrong! We drifted apart mainly because she learned more about her religious belief. She lives to it, and started to develop eccentricity. That was then the end.

Another story was with my ex. Again, we confess different faith, which was actually not a problem with me. I've been dismantling my belief in any religious rituals. We got no problem during the whole relationship. Interestingly, the disturbance came from outside. It was my family that kept warning me about the different religion among us. My mother even threatened me, "If later you get married in the mosque, I will not bother to come! You can have your wedding without me!" It was something that made laugh. (Some of you might know the reason why. :p) FYI, I broke up not because of the faith......

But one thing that concerns me is the fact that my parents interfered with my own love life. What it is with their interference? Can love be divided only between people of the same religion? Well, so far the classic argument is the children. When the children are raised by parents with different religion, they will be confused with the differences. But then, why should they bother? For confessing any faith is a human right in itself.

If we put religion as personal matter between us and The Almighty, then why should people interfere with our own happiness? With the choice of lover? Does it guarantee that people will have a happy life when they marry person within the same faith? Does it guarantee the inseparable bond when marrying people of the same faith? I still cannot help but wonder about that. Why is the freedom limited by the concept of religion?

Closing this scribble, I want to quote the translated lyric from that song.
"I am for you, you are for me
But is thing possible, for our different faith
God is indeed one, we are the ones being different"

PS : If love is indeed God's greatest gift, why should people divide it?

Wednesday, February 09, 2011

Blind Date and Sacrifice

It was a blind date night, a night of charity event in University of Cambridge. I already filled the form on the very first day of the launching. Well, some people back home thought that I am just being desperate in attempting the blind date, but the truth is I just wanna try this new social experience. What does it feel like to meet a total stranger and go on a date.

The conversation among my classmates about the blind date suddenly changed my opinion. They were talking about having a bad date and planning on an "emergency call" for that. Honestly, I did not think about that point yet, not until they floor that solution. I guess, I was just being too optimistic and considering courtesy too much that people will not leave their date no matter how awful that will be.

When I got my form back, the first shock came. I know my date! Well, at least I know the person, but not knowing personally. Aaaargh, I wanted to date a total stranger! I wanted to know a new person! I envied people who did the research on their blind date partner via google or facebook, while I didn't need to do that. That certainly crossed out the thrill of doing the "research". The losing thrill, the thought of emergency call (which was made worse by my stolen phone), and the bad first impression of the person put me really down.

The thought shifted to the option that I will be the bad date. I started being very pessimistic and consider myself as not hyped enough to be on a date. Guess people already know how socially disable I am. The thought of getting stood up in the middle of the date lingered in my mind, poisoning the joy of going for a date.

But then everything went smoothly and nice. I was completely wrong! We spent five and a half hours together in a combination of dinner and pub crawl. Nothing bad happened, at least from I perspective. I did not get stood up. Hearing from the others who was left by their dates with various reasons, I felt very thankful. At least my date stayed with me until the end of the night.

No, it's not the case that I fell in love in the first date. Since the first time I already prepared myself that this will be a one shot event only. But I couldn't help but falling in love with dating. Going on a nice date reminded me how nice can a date be, how nice can getting involved with someone be. It's like someone points a flashlight in front of my face and shouted, "Wake up! Stop lamenting over your wrecked love life and start seeing people again!"

Well, on the way home, I had to stopped several times just because I had an overwhelming thought about that. My chest was tight, the sentiments brought me a lot of undescribable feeling. If that can come out as tears, what kind of tears would that be? Happy tears? Tears of sadness? One thing that I found was how precious dating can be. How precious can someone beside you be.

Realizing the great value of that, I looked up in the sky and secretly prayed, "God, now that I know how precious can a better half be, I only have one wish for this year. Please just give me a stable job abroad first. I will give up the possibility of having a perfect love life for that!"

Friday, February 04, 2011

Racauan Makanan Pembroke

Saya mau meracau, dan kali ini dengan bahasa Indonesia aja ah. Bukan maksud apa-apa, tapi berhubung mau ngomong tentang makanan, rasanya tetep lebih enak ngomong dengan bahasa ibu (Jiah, padahal bahasa ibu aja belepotan nggak jelas!)

Jadi, demi merayakan (atau melarikan diri) Imlek di UK ini, aku menyanggupi undangan Formal Hall di Pembroke College. Sebetulnya, makan malam itu tidak diadakan khusus untuk Xin Jia, tapi kebetulan bertepatan dengan event itu. Jadinya, semua makananannya berhubungan dengan masakan Cina.

Awal-awal sudah senang dan penasaran, gimana tuh rasanya ikut Formal Hall yang makanannya Cina? La biasanya kalau Formal kan makanannya selalu Fine Dinning a la barat. Pasti perabotan makannya diganti semua, pake mangkok dan sebagainya. Penasaran, penasaran!!

Begitu sampai di tempatnya, ternyata Pembroke College itu gede mampus! Baguuuus (mata membelalak norak)! Terus, acara makan malam kita nggak di Dinning Hall, tapi di Old Library. Wah, begitu masuk udah terpesona lagi. Di sekeliling ruangan itu isinya buku-buku yang tertata rapi di rak, WWAAAAAA!!!!! KEREEEEEEEENN! (Noraknya keluar deh....). Suasana ruangan yang atapnya tinggi banget dan dikelilingi buku itu bikin tambah yakin, pasti ini makan malam bakal sangat menyenangkan.

Dan, appetizer keluar. Cihuy! Sudah menahan lapar ni. Bum! Tiga kulit lumpia, irisan loncang (spring onion), dan bebek yang diiris tipis-tipis. Plus ada saus manis. Hegh? Berarti ini makannya kita harus bikin lumpia sendiri? Terus apa gunanya garpu sama pisau yang ada dan disediakan untuk apetizer ini? Tidaaak! Masa harus dimakan pakai tangan? Mana di meja itu semua orang nggak tahu gimana itu harus dimakan. Akhirnya, dengan cara barbar dan tissue di paha, aku mengikuti semua orang yang ada di sekitar, mengabaikan cutlery dan makan pakai tangan. Kenapa sih nggak di-roll-in aja?

Masuk main course. Appetizernya enak sih, jadi pasti menanti main course yang (harusnya) lebih enak. Dan yang keluar adalah, nasi campur kacang ijo dan tauge mentah. Lauknya BBQ daging plus paprika yang dikasih saus tomat. Sebagai penikmat kuliner, aku langsung tahu itu maksudnya apa. Mereka mau bikin sate!!! Tapi begitu digigit, semuanya hati. Brrrrrrr.... Aneh banget rasanya. Mana itu main course disajikan di piring datar pake nasi yang dimasak ala barat, jadinya nggak pulen. Wadaw, gimana makannya? Disediakan sumpit memang, tapi kalau makan nasi di piring datar pakai sumpit gimana caranya? Eh, bisa sih, kalo nasinya pulen. Kalau nasinya kaya gini?? Dengan kesimpulan itu, akhirnya tidak ada orang yang makan pakai sumpit, Semua nyendok nasi dengan garpu mereka. Ada sendok sih, tapi itu buat dessert. Saya kan masih punya etiket yang baik untuk makan. Tapi pilihannya jadi makan pakai garpu atau sumpit. Sudahlah, makan pakai garpu aja. Mana itu nasi rasanya dingin.

Alex di sebelah nanya, "Feel like home?" WHAT???? Aduh, nggak deh, nggak! Ini nasi nggak ada rasanya, ini sate rasanya aneh. Aku bener-bener kangen babi merah di rumah, aku kangen mie kakap, aku kangen Kwee Tiaw, aku kangen babi kecap!!! HUAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!! (Tahu kan kenapa aku pilih tulis pake bahasa Indonesia? Gimana mau terjemahin kata-kata itu? Pulen, babi kecap, mie kakap, dll). Kupikir aku nggak bakal kangen rumah, karena waktu Natal aja bisa nggak homesick. Ternyata xin jia dengan sukses membuat saya merindukan semua makanannya. CATAT : Makanannya!!!!!

Sudah kecewa dengan main course, datanglah dessert. Bentuknya sih kaya ice cream. Begitu disendok, ternyata pake saus mangga. Hfffff, mangga! Bagian bawahnya, ternyata jenang sumsum (jiah, tambah lagi alasan untuk tidak menulis dengan bahasa inggris). Tadinya saus mangga itu kupikir gula jawa, hahahaha. Pertama kali datang emang sudah membayangkan dapetnya jenang sumsum. Lumayan lah. Ditutup dengan manis!

Kesimpulannya? Ternyata setelah dibandingkan dengan semua orang yang hadir di situ, appetizer dan dessertnya memang ciamik. Tapi main coursenya jempol ke bawah deh. Pfffft! Coba aja itu main course babi merah dan kwee tiaw untuk yang vegetarian. Yummy deh! *Mellow xin jia ni*

Wednesday, February 02, 2011

The End of my Year : A Heartbreak with Willie

Today is the last day of the year of tiger. As someone who was born under the celestial patron of tiger, it feels like the time to step down from my throne. So many things have happened during "my reign", and I had to say, it was a good year. A perfect one even. However, my year was not all golden brick road and milk fountain with rain of honey (yuck, that's going to be sticky!). In fact, I had some topsy turvy moments. But it was not until two days before the year end.

Being raised in a superstitious environment, I could not help but believing some of those stupid rituals and beliefs. And one of the thing that I keep holding is the principle of balanced life, that life is like a wheel, cakra manggilingan, in Javanese term. That life will turn, putting you sometimes up and sometimes down. You can't stay fortunate for the whole life, there will be a time when you get a lot of misfortunes. But as the wheel is constantly rolling, there must be the same time for both the good and the bad. Therefore, the most difficult test is when you are successful, because the more you gain, the more you will lose (or vice versa).

For some people, it might sound silly for me to believe in this superstitious. When I got a traffic accident in the last day of 2009, I thought that it was my last misfortune for the year and I can enter 2010 with a brighter hope and fortune. But I was wrong, as the VERY first day of 2010 became the worst day of my life (so far). I entered that year with a pessimistic and gloomy soul. With the first day of the year became very bad, what other misfortunes awaits? The whole January was full of misfortunes. I fell down from my motorbike twice, went through the worst month so far. But I realized, part of my heritage is Chinese. So what if the Lunar New Year played a more important role as the turning point in my life? And it was. Just after the Lunar New Year, I got the letter that changes my life forever.

Reflecting back on what happened, I grew anxious as life seemed to take the right path during the remaining of 2010. My last days of 2010 were blasting! But the first days of 2011 were really bad with the kitchen tragedy. Ironically, I did not even consider that as bad enough to open my year (yeah, like any starvation is not bad enough to get me dying. What did you really want, Doel?). In fact, I spent my money extravagantly after I received my living allowance. I sold my old Blackberry (which carried memories of my ex) and bought a new, fresher, no-memory-of-ex-and-whatsoever, cool Android device.

It was an android, something that can arouse me and get me into the geeky orgasm (Okaaaaay, it's getting too much). A device of my dream, err, I mean the second device of my dream, since I can't never afford iPhone 4. And just two days before my year ends, I LOST IT! Darn! I lost it when I walked home from the faculty. Willie was in my coat pocket all the time, and when I reached Sidney Street, I realized that the coat was empty. Willie was gone!

In the next morning, I desperately seek the help form the Parkside Police Station. For people who know my history, you know how much I HATE POLICEMAN! Thankfully, UK police was completely different from my ex-students (yeah, I used to teach in the police department). Although they were nice, they never heard of any report regarding my cellphone. Ugh!! I am cellphone-less, and as a person growing up in Indonesia, it is quite depressing (dear European friends, you have to know Indonesian's addiction to cellphone!).

I guess, it was the misery that I need to think as the last down payment for the greater fortune and wealth in the coming year. At least, I know that the year of the rabbit would be as great as my year. Happy Chinese New Year, everyone! Xin Nian Kuai Le!!