Showing posts with label something about life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label something about life. Show all posts

Thursday, September 1, 2016

Apakah Saya Seorang Muslim?

Baru saja saya mengisi sebuah survei yang diperuntukkan khusus untuk orang-orang beragama Islam. Survei itu dari seorang mahasiswa jurusan Psikologi. Saya kira semestinya akan berhubungan dengan pandangan-pandangan kami sebagai seorang Muslim, tetapi saya tidak terbayang akan berhubungan dengan apa. Saya kira mungkin akan dilihat kadar kegilaan saya sebagai manusia.

Setelah saya buka laman surveinya dan saya baca pertanyaan-pertanyaannya, ternyata berhubungan dengan konflik Israel dan Palestina. Sejujurnya, saya tidak tahu banyak tentang konflik tersebut. Mungkin karena sudah sangat lama berlangsung, semenjak saya bahkan belum peduli terhadap hal-hal di luar panggung sandiwara kecil saya. Bagi saya, konflik itu merupakan konflik yang ada. Begitu saja. 

Ah, tapi bukan itu yang ingin saya bahas. Yang ingin saya bahas adalah sebuah pertanyaan yang kemudian mengusik batin sehingga tergetar hati saya, dan membuat saya terpekur:

Apakah Anda menganggap diri Anda seorang Muslim?

Kira-kira begitulah pertanyaannya. Sebuah pertanyaan sederhana, yang jawabannya tidak sederhana bagi saya. Jika yang bertanya adalah anggota keluarga - baik itu keluarga inti maupun keluarga besar - tentu jawabannya adalah ya. Jika yang bertanya adalah teman-teman SMA saya yang kebanyakan anggota klub rohis, tentu jawabannya adalah ya. Malah, mungkin jika pertanyaan ini ditanyakan oleh sebagian besar orang, saya akan menjawab ya, saya menganggap diri saya seorang Muslim. Dengan jilbab di kepala, bukankah aneh jika saya menjawab tidak atau tidak tahu? Jilbab saya sudah meng-Islam-kan saya lebih dari KTP. Tidak perlu lihat KTP, dari jauh pun orang akan tahu saya Islam. Di sisi lain, jika yang bertanya adalah teman-teman kuliah saya yang terlalu banyak berfilosofi tentang eksistensi... yah, mungkin kami tidak akan membicarakan soal ini. Bagi kami, urusan manusia dengan Tuhannya bersifat pribadi. Tidak untuk dibahas; tidak untuk dipamerkan; tidak untuk dikomentari. Seorang Muslim fanatik, atau Kristen taat, atau Atheis sejati bukan urusan bagi kami karena kami hidup berdampingan secara damai dan sekuler.

Tapi jika saya membaca sendiri pertanyaan di atas dan saya coba menjawabnya sendiri, saya tidak bisa menjawabnya. Saya tidak mengerti di mana posisi saya sebagai umat Muslim. Saya kadang-kadang sholat, kadang-kadang tidak. Saya lebih sering tidak mengaji daripada mengaji. Saya tidak terlalu membatasi diri terhadap hal-hal yang dilabeli haram oleh agama. Lantas, apakah saya seorang Muslim? Ada juga saatnya saya tidak memiliki sandaran lain kecuali sosok Allah SWT. Ada saatnya saya menangis setelah sholat, istigfar berulang kali dengan segala doa yang tidak terucapkan. Tidak lupa, saya selalu menulis basmalah setiap awal menulis. Lantas, apakah saya seorang Muslim?

Apa syaratnya agar saya menganggap diri saya seorang Muslim?

Pertanyaan itu tadinya tidak pernah terpikirkan oleh saya, tetapi begitu muncul, saya jadi mempertanyakan lagi semua ke-Islam-an saya. Seberapa saya layak menyandang Islam di KTP dan seberapa saya layak memakai jilbab ini. Seberapa saya layak memandang kedua orang tua saya dan mengakui diri sebagai anak berbakti, atau seberapa saya layak merayakan lebaran.

Saya rasa saya belum bisa menemukan jawabannya, tetapi kapan pun jawaban itu akan datang, saya harap jawabannya akan ya kepada siapapun yang bertanya. 

Monday, July 25, 2016

There are days like this...

...when I want to just give up.
On love.
Goals.
Life.

Days like this come right after days that feel right.
Days that feel bright.
Perfect.
Joyful.

They just come and burn
Things that I thought were mine.
That I thought were safe.
Sound.

They leave me with ashes.
They leave me unchecked.
They leave me broken and wounded and everything sad
and that is why.

On days like this
I want to just give up.
On possibilities.

Saturday, February 27, 2016

Rereading Myself

Instead of rereading myself, I should've named the title "Rereading What I Wrote On My Previous Post." I wrote that piece while being mad, or, quoting myself, enraged about what is happening in Indonesia. Of course, it turned out to be an unprofessional, nonintellectual long rant that even I doubt the causes and effects mentioned were actually causal. Shouldn't have so easily related Indonesia's fear and hatred toward LGBTQ with Indonesia's forceful censorship on TV. My bad. I was naive and immature (I still can't guarantee I'm over that, but we all grow up everyday, and enough sleep always helps).

This is 2016, and it feels like London in 1988. How do I know it when I am still 23? Well, Alan Moore in 1988 voiced exactly what it feels like to be in a situation like this: "The government has expressed a desire to eradicate homosexuality, even as an abstract concept, and one can only speculate as to which minority will be the next legislated against." And if this general statement is not enough, he added a personal statement that also speaks for me: "I'm thinking of taking my family and getting out of this country soon, sometime over the next couple of years. It's cold and it's mean spirited and I don't like it here anymore." Although the family to which I refer would not be my husband and children, and Indonesia is definitely not cold, the rest of the sentence works well to describe what's been accumulating in my head. Thank you, Alan Moore, and your preface for V for Vendetta (1989). 

Indonesia has it more or less the same now with U.K. then. Only it was Christianity, not Islam, that stood as the grounding rule. As I have mentioned in my previous post, Abrahamic religions rule homosexuality as sinful. This newly discovered fact about which you can read all in Wikipedia (of course, if you're looking for some strong facts backed by evidence and legal historical record, never put your faith in Wikipedia--I have nothing against the page, but it is editable. Meaning anyone can alter the content. Helpful, but not reliable) makes me rethink of how public figures and much-publicized institutions shape religions in the eyes of the society. London was famous for its Christianity as well as Indonesia (or I should say, Jakarta and the surrounding areas) is famous for our Islam.

I don't know how people perceive these religions then and now, but I do know that it will be small wonder if there are people who think Islam is too dominant in Indonesia. I mean, the public figures and institutions here truly have no chill. Referring to (again) my previous post, I have described how it is here and now--childish instant reaction to things they don't understand. 

Anyway, I will not make this about religion. Religions are religions, with their set of rules. They are neither to be challenged nor are they to be altered to suit our own needs and wants. The only thing that sadly turns religions into reasons for judging other people is that they are open to interpretation. It just so happens that sometimes, the people who interpret it become the face of the religion--while in the process, smudging its purity and kindness.

Regarding the LGBTQ issue, because the authorities has called it out as sinful, there has been a publication from Indonesia Broadcasting Commission about the prohibition from displaying transgender women and related behavior on TV. A mosque for transgender community in Jogjakarta is closed. Hate speech mushroomed. An ex-minister tweeted a misinterpreted/incompletely interpreted hadith allowing the killing of transgender people. It is dangerous, what these public figures could do with their hastily shallow understanding about their own faith and their own people.

I said I will not make this about religion. However, it is almost unavoidable to see that amidst this controversy about LGBTQ, a strong sense of Islamic solidarity is formed among the majority of Indonesians. It is natural, I must say. After all, Islam is against homosexuality (right, about that, I'm trying to say this, but. . .yeah, I can't help myself: Islam is against homosexuality, true, but Islam is never against embracing people. Go, read some history on Islam. Read the story of our Prophet Muhammad [PBUH] and tell me it isn't right. You will know what I'm suggesting here). 

I cannot say that this solidarity and this sudden re-realization of "Islamic values" are directly related to censorship in media (or even if it is related at all), but before you know it, everywhere things are blurred. Censorship at its best. It has been disturbing for quite some times since they decided to censor cigarettes and even the slightest cleavage on TV, but only recently I found out they also made up their mind to censor guns. In a frenzy action movie culture, censoring guns means mosaics here and there. Still, what blew everyone's mind was these two outrageous censorship: the one on cartoons and the one on kebaya, our own traditional dress. The skirt worn by Shizuka from Doraemon is considered too short (she is a 5-year-old). The bikini worn by Sandy from Spongebob Squarepants is considered inappropriate (she is a squirrel). The kebaya worn by the beauty pageant contestants is considered showing too much skin (. . . .it is our own traditional attire?).

Whether or not Islamic values are related to this unfortunate event, what happens happens. As insane as it is, this is the face of Indonesian media these days: frightened by women's body. Pardon the use of words; I am a woman and I am offended. Cigarettes are dangerous for our health, as it is scientifically proven. Guns are dangerous because it is a weapon, it harms people and breaks things. Is women's body dangerous? If you say so with whatever reason you might have (apart from religion, because it is complicated to elaborate women's position in Islam and it will need a whole another post), congratulations. You see the world through men's eyes. As Naomi Wolf said, "Beauty provokes harassment, the law says, but it looks through men's eyes when deciding what provokes it." (The Beauty Myth, 1990). If any, women's body are dangerous for themselves. Some men are so used to having excuses justifying women's objectification.

You might challenge me and argue, "You said 'apart from religion', which means it can be that these censorship guys censored TV according to rules set in religions! We see this from religions' eyes, you insolent writer!" Well, think again. Which religion forbids women from showing their skin? If your answer is Islam, think again. Is Indonesia an Islamic country? The majority of us are Muslims, I know, but is it an Islamic country? Is Indonesian law supposedly rooted from Islamic rules? You just gotta think and think again. Indonesia is home to diversity. Different languages, skin colors, religions, beliefs, norms, social values, lifestyles. There is never a rule that says majority is law. You know, you might think I'm kafir by now, and I disrespect Islam by wearing hijab while having an opinion like this. It's fine. I'm a Muslim neither because of nor for you (that, if I'm a Muslim at all; you and I both know only Allah can pass someone as a true Muslim). 

All in all, again, I made this too intertwined with religion (okay, Islam). But, really, you cannot talk about these two issues without relating it with Islam. The country that was once famous for its friendly pluralism is no longer. And sometimes, to me, it is as if the government forget that they are the leaders of diverse people--they play favorites with only some groups. Coincidentally, it is Islam. Still, recalling the history of LGBTQ in London, I doubt this parade will last for long. The same goes for women's objectification. 

Friday, February 5, 2016

Quarter-life Crisis

Reaching the peak of our 20s (plus the fact that we are all so sinfully ambitious), my friends and I are probably facing our biggest quater-life crisis right now: the choices. 

For me, it always starts with the longing to escape from my job. You see, I'm working my second job. Unlike my first job as a teacher, I love it here. I love translating movies, I love the friends (although you really can't love everyone), I love the routine. It is all perfect except for the shifting (from which I finally managed to escape due to a case with a night company driver) and the management (which is unfitting its famous name), and sometimes the ones who got away (you know, the would-be friends but drifted apart with spite once we encountered the, ahem, night company driver-case). Sometimes it occurs to me that I might be an escapist who simply doesn't like authority, with little trust to people and quick to judge. But it is not for me to say so; it's your job to judge me as I other people. Be honest, we live in a judgmental world.

Anyway, my friends (with each to their own reasons) and I then went to the same intersection that leads to the desire to pursue higher education. Why education? I don't know. My reasons include the confusion of what I really am doing with my life. I feel incapable, lost, stuck, unfulfilled, dissatisfied, and generally unhappy. I noticed, of course, that this is not only my problem. Some people try to provide reasons. I agree to some of them: the conviction that I can do better--I can be at a better place, I am destined to be great, not just another employee in another company--more often than not, backfires. It becomes a burden.

20s is the age of deadlines. Perhaps this deadline's extended to our 30s, but sooner or later it will end. Name it. Marriage, family, education, career... most people want theirs to settle before 30, 35.  In our quarter-life, that leaves us with only 5-10 years. Meanwhile, there are lots of things we want to pursue and those things are no longer the small stuff like the highest grade in class or the books we want to buy. We want a partner in love, not just husband or wife. We want the romance as well as the punctuality. We want a family before we're too old to do anything. We want to learn, to study, to travel, and to know the world. We were told that we can. We want to keep concerning ourselves with issues in life, be it social or humanities or scientific. We want to become a part of the world; we want to contribute. We want to climb our stairs career-wise. We have big dreams, but it all takes time.

I want to study culture and gender and feminism and theology and Islam and media and film and advertising and journalism and creative writing and literature, but I can't study them all. I have to have one focus to pursue. Would I rather pursue practical skills that can be put to work, or pursue what I am passionate about? In a rare case, someone can be so lucky so as to find a string connecting the two. If I pursue the practical skills, will I be happy once I get them to work? If I pursue my passion, will it provide for my life? Would I rather be idealistic or realistic? Can't I be both?

When I finally decided I want to pursue higher education first (because I haven't found the perfect workplace and I haven't had anyone with me to marry), I was faced with yet another set of options. Such was described in previous paragraphs. I made up my mind, or I thought I did, to study Creative Industries. The path is clear. I'm working in media industries as a translator (which can actually lead to two directions: media and/or translation) and I am interested in the relationship between media and culture. Creative Industries major has answers for them. However, it asks me: what will I focus on? I can't just study for the sake of studying. I don't have the answer yet.

I put misery to my life by overthinking it, as usual, and it confuses me too much. I'm not used to not having answers. I am a good student. I'm sure I can follow the classes diligently and successfully, but I'm not used to having to find my own question and answer. What will I do in life? What will I contribute to Indonesia, to the school, to my community? What will I give in return of the money the scholarship will invest on me? Giving answers would be easy; following up and be sincere wouldn't. I can't just say I want this to give me back my self-esteem and satisfy my thirst for knowledge (which will be an honest thing to say).

Anyway, in the midst of confusion, an offer came that almost immediately pull me and my life that way. There's this girl, who is a friend of a friend of mine, who used to test me for novel translation. I contacted her after I decided to quit my current job. Surprisingly, she offers me another novel translation project and even proposes that I become her proofreader next month. Being a proofreader/editor/translator has always been more interesting to me than I want to admit. It seems a simple task, but I truly enjoy it. It is practical, too, so I won't have to worry about not having a job. It is a concrete and sought after job. Without a second thought, I accepted her proposal. It could be a fulfilling freelance job while I complete my requirements for the scholarship. Killing two birds with one stone.

As if it is not enough a joy to hear, she read my CV and saw that I have published a fiction teen literature. She told me she's an editor at a well-known publishing company and encouraged me to send her my novel drafts, if any. She said she would love to edit and revise it if it's deemed worthy of publishing.

Oh, God, mercy!

It's a dream I have gradually forgotten. Buried in my deepest, silent heart. And my heart is never not noisy. I never thought it would come again like a new wounded flesh. So real and so close and so painful--it reminds me that it is still alive and burning.

Therefore, it is natural that I am drawn to the force of this dream. But while my heart is fluttering at the thought of picking up where I left it off, my conscience tugs at me and says, "What about all the plans you have in mind?" What about all the practical skills I have planned to learn? What about the issues and purposes you have prepared to be the key weapons in the scholarship essays and interviews? What about all the plans you have in mind?

I was never one to just abandon my heart, and all these times, things went great if I follow my heart. Moreover, the older I get, the rarer my heart tells me something. I cannot just refuse to hear what it is telling me now. It is fluttering when it hears the news, for God's sake! This is definitely not something I can just walk past by.

What scares me is that it almost immediately made me think I don't need this media and practical skills. I don't need to pretend I'm interested in cultural policy so much that I want to work in that field (because truly, I am interested in studying and learning all about it, but the prospect of working in that field does not appeal to me, like, at all). I am not ambitious to pursue a career in media.

But how much can I profit from writing fictions? If I'm J.K. Rowling, it would probably be enough for life.

I can always translate things. It is so tempting to just take a class and get certification for translation. I can edit books and papers. And then I'll get back to writing stories. I can probably get some published. I can always be an interpreter if I grow tired of seeing papers and documents. I can just take another class of interpretation. Or I can pursue a major in translation, although I still don't think it should happen anytime soon. Or probably I can take a major in literature. You know, studying world literature to see how other countries represent their culture in the books and all the pieces of writings. I can find some ways to represent Indonesia to the eyes of the world. I don't want to be a lecturer... but probably it's for the best? Or I can just be a researcher in Indonesian literature?

You see, I set my heart to writing and publishing and I want to try my best to make something out of it. I know I will, eventually. But it takes time to really break it down and find the concrete answers and then explain it to my parents, because I know they expect the best from me. And they think I'm not destined to be just another somebody. At least, my father does. He sees me as a minister of everything wonderful and foreign and influential. He sees me as a boss of a start-up, promising company. He sees me as a manager from a well-known corporate. He sees me as someone I think I can, but I'm not sure if I want to, become.

Oh, he'll accept my explanation, for sure, but it is scary to see the slight disappointment in his eyes if I seem to be unsure of my future, or if that future is something he does not understand. Still, in this quarter-life, I have to admit I don't know many things. I don't know if this is the right way or that is the correct path instead, or if my life will be prosperous in the future. I'm not good at planning. I don't know the answer to everything, and everything might not go according to plan. And sometimes I don't even know what I want.

It's a lie when they say teenage period is the period of confusion. 

Saturday, January 23, 2016

Menanggapi LGBT

Boleh, ya, saya sekali-sekali sok-sok cerdas bicara tentang isu yang sedang marak di dunia ini. Tentu saja, ini sebenarnya masalah dunia pertama. Dunia yang isunya berupa isu kemanusiaan. Dunia yang tidak lagi dipermasalahkan lapar dan kemiskinan dan perang dengan negara tetangga... atau bahkan dengan sesama saudara. Ah, tetapi tidak apa. Toh isu ini sekarang sudah menjadi masalah pula bagi masyarakat Indonesia. Khususnya, dengan semakin vokalnya kaum-kaum terpelajar menyuarakan soal toleransi terhadap kaum LGBT. Apalagi, ada SGRC UI.

Saya pertama kali mendengar tentang SGRC UI dari teman saya di grup. "Di UI lagi rame bahas support buat LGBT, tuh," katanya. Lalu, teman-teman lain turut berpartisipasi dalam percakapan itu dengan memberikan gambar-gambar pamflet dan bukan pamflet yang kurang-lebih menggambarkan apa itu SGRC. Intinya, itu adalah kelompok yang mempelajari seksualitas dan membuka konsultasi/dukungan bagi yang membutuhkan. Beberapa orang di pamflet itu digambarkan sebagai bagian dari kelompok LGBT. Ada yang gay, panseksual... pokoknya segala kelompok LGBT. Oh, iya, bagi yang tidak tahu, LGBT bukan serta-merta gay saja. Banyak kelompok seksualitas lainnya.

SGRC UI kontroversial karena dua hal:
  1. Mengangkat isu yang sensitif bagi masyarakat Indonesia.
  2. Mencatut nama UI.
Untuk masalah kedua, UI segera mengeluarkan press release yang menyatakan bahwa SGRC tidak meminta izin aktivitas pada UI, dan karenanya tidak berhak mencatut nama UI. Dengan adanya press release itu, orang tahu bahwa SGRC bukan bagian dari UI.

Bagi saya dan teman teman, yang sudah belajar ilmu kemanusiaan dan cenderung terbuka/toleran terhadap LGBT, masalah sudah selesai. Kami tahu Indonesia belum siap, atau mungkin tidak akan siap, menerima LGBT sebagai hal lumrah. Tentu saja, penerimaan dan kesiapan toleransi terhadap LGBT bukan berarti lebih bagus atau lebih baik. Hanya memang karakter Indonesia yang erat dengan agama (apalagi sila pertamanya menganut Ketuhanan yang Maha Esa), tidak memungkinkannya menerima LGBT. Kami sebagai warga Indonesia yang beragama, tentu punya larangan tersendiri mengenai cinta sesama jenis (dan cinta sesama jenis adalah bentuk LGBT yang paling marak terdengar).

Namun, penerimaan dan kesiapan toleransi terhadap LGBT juga bukan berarti lebih buruk. Saya belajar tentang rasisme dan feminisme. Keduanya dimulai dari kecenderungan menuju homogenitas (saya pernah membahas ini dalam post tahun lalu). Kulit putih tidak menyukai kulit hitam karena mereka berbeda; dianggap lebih barbar, dianggap bukan manusia yang setara. Begitu pula dengan perempuan. Laki-laki beranggapan perempuan bukan manusia yang punya hak suara sebesar mereka. Karena alasan itulah, kulit hitam dan perempuan sempat dilarang memiliki hak yang sama dengan kaum satunya.

Bagi saya, kaum LGBT sekarang juga menerima perlakuan yang sama dengan perempuan dan kulit hitam. Mereka minoritas, maka diperlakukan berbeda. Kadang, saya melihat ini tidak ada bedanya dengan masalah kaum-kaum minoritas sebelumnya. Oleh karena itu, saya mengerti pentingnya toleransi dalam hal ini.

Toleransi saya, sejauh ini, berupa pengabaian. Jika saya tahu ada orang yang gay, atau ada orang transgender, saya tidak terlalu ambil pusing. Itu hidup mereka, bukan hidup saya. Siapa saya untuk menghakimi mereka? Bukan saya yang nanti akan menghisab amal mereka. Saya bukan Tuhan. Pemikiran saya ini akhirnya menunjukkan pola pikir saya yang beragama lebih ke sifat spiritualnya--hubungannya dengan Tuhan. Dalam sebagian dunia saya, orang-orang seumuran saya (20-an tahun) yang saya kenal, saya rasa kurang-lebih sama. Agama menjadi urusan pribadi yang tidak bisa dihakimi, tidak juga bisa menghakimi. Masing-masing saja.

Namun, ada juga sebagian dunia saya yang lain, dunia dengan orang tua saya dan sebagian orang-orang lain, yang tidak bisa saya abaikan. Pada bagian ini, aspek ritual agama-lah yang ditonjolkan. Katanya, jika saya biarkan LGBT, yang menurut agama merupakan penyimpangan sesat, artinya saya sama saja dengan kaum LGBT. Sama berdosanya, sama sesatnya, sama menyimpangnya. Semasa saya belajar ilmu kemanusiaan, saya sering berdebat soal ini pada ayah saya. Jadilah saya anak durhaka. Anak menyimpang. Dulu saya merasa ayah saya bodoh karena tidak mengerti. Melihat dunia terlalu hitam-putih. Apalagi jika bicara soal kebenaran.

Seiring pertambahan usia, saya mulai melihat dari kacamata ayah saya. Bahwa agama bukan sesuatu yang bisa dilepas begitu saja dari kehidupan. Saat kemarin teman saya cerita bahwa dia bertuhan, bukan beragama... saya membatin, saya pernah seperti itu. KTP saya bilang saya Islam, tapi sesungguhnya saya bertuhan. Bukan beragama. Hubungan saya dengan Tuhan adalah hubungan spiritual, bukan ritual. Tapi saya kemudian berkaca: jika saya Muslimah, saya tidak bisa hanya bertuhan. Saya harus beragama, dan beragama berarti mengadopsi juga aturan-aturannya.

Kembali ke soal LGBT. Jika begini jadinya, habislah saya dalam dilema saat menanggapi LGBT. Saya yang satu bisa menanggapinya dari sisi kemanusiaan (di mana saya melihat ketiadaan toleransi terhadap kaum LGBT adalah bentuk masalah kecenderungan homogenitas umat manusia), saya yang satu bisa pula menanggapinya dari sisi agama (paling tidak, sebaiknya mengingatkan bahwa itu dianggap menyimpang).

Belum ada solusi mengenai bagaimana menjembatani isu LGBT dengan eratnya agama di Indonesia. Mungkin akan ada, tapi saya tidak mau terlalu optimis. Saya yakin, bukan hanya saya yang menemukan masalah ini menimbulkan dilema. Kami warga Indonesia sedang belajar menemukan jalan--kami sedang bertanya-tanya tentang kemanusiaan dan tentang agama. Semoga tidak perlu ada pertentangan ekstrem jika kedua sisi itu tidak lagi bisa berkompromi.

Sunday, January 10, 2016

Menjadi Perempuan (1): Sopir

Saya mau curhat sedikit.

Saya ini perempuan single (oke, jomblo) berusia awal 20-an tahun, berasal dari keluarga Islam (terlepas dari itu, berjilbab), dan bekerja di sebuah kantor media yang memberlakukan pergantian shift (yang artinya, saya kadang harus bekerja dari pukul 6 sore hingga pukul 2 pagi). Keadaan saya yang seperti ini membuat perasaan saya sering tidak menentu, baik soal omongan orang maupun hal-hal yang terjadi.

Permasalahan diawali dengan shift malam (tentu saja, mungkin sebagian dari kalian akan bisa langsung menebak itu masalahnya). Ayah saya tidak pernah setuju pekerjaan saya ada shift malam. Dulu, beliau pernah setuju karena ada sopir yang mengantar ke rumah. Lalu, dengan segera beliau mengubah pikirannya. Katanya, saya perempuan. Tidak baik pulang malam. Beliau tidak menjelaskan apa kekhawatirannya, tapi kurang-lebih saya bisa paham. Bukan karena apa-apa melainkan karena "tidak baik perempuan pulang larut malam" adalah omongan biasa di antara orang Indonesia. Banyak hal bisa terjadi. Saya bisa mendadak diserang orang lalu diperkosa. Pemerkosaan bukan hal asing di belahan dunia mana pun. Termasuk Indonesia. Saat larut malam, jalanan tidak ramai. Tidak ada yang bisa menolong. Saya paham.

Tapi saya sudah kepalang tanda tangan kontrak, dengan didukung oleh persetujuan beliau. Awalnya, saya pun tidak melihat adanya bahaya. Banyak perempuan yang juga pulang malam bersama saya. Ke daerah rumah sejauh saya. Para sopir baik-baik saja, malah bersahabat. Saya lihat, teman searah saya sering mengobrol dengan mereka, maka saya juga ikut begitu. Dalam pikiran saya, toh saya yang butuh jasa mereka. Saya tidak boleh memperlakukan mereka dengan bossy. Lagi pula, saya diantar pulang larut malam. Kalau sikap saya ada yang salah, pastilah bisa mendorong terjadinya hal-hal yang berbahaya (pemerkosaan, pelecehan seksual, penculikan--dunia ini adalah tempat berbahaya). Karena obrolan ringan di antara kami, saya mulai merasa aman. Sopir-sopir itu seusia dengan kami. 20-30-an tahun. Candaan mereka hampir sama dengan kami.

Saya tidak akan berlagak jadi perempuan polos yang tidak awas terhadap kondisi sekitar. Saya tahu saat mulai ada omongan-omongan di antara para sopir. Saya sadar sejak mereka mulai memperlakukan saya sebagai perempuan cantik yang jadi idaman laki-laki. Saya sadar sejak mereka menyukai saya. Saya jelaskan seperti ini, bukan karena saya merasa saya perempuan idaman laki-laki, melainkan karena saya tahu gelagat mereka menunjukkan anggapan mereka yang seperti itu. Saya tidak memaksudkan ini (dan tidak merasa ini) flattering. Jauh. Justru saya merasa terganggu. Jangankan saya; perempuan-perempuan yang benar-benar cantik saja mungkin akan terganggu.

Pada awalnya, saya tidak merasa ada masalah saat ucapan-ucapan itu hanya berupa ucapan kolektif. Saya pikir mereka begitu pada setiap penumpang baru, atau mereka hanya iseng. Tapi kemudian, salah satu dari mereka mulai menunjukkan gelagat yang berbeda. Sebutlah Sopir A. Saya perhatikan, memang Sopir A agak berbeda dari yang lain. Lebih vokal. Lebih seradak-seruduk. Lebih berani. Saya tahu dia bekerja sambil kuliah.

Sejak sebulan yang lalu, Sopir A mulai sering mengantar saya pulang. Jika bukan gilirannya, dia akan ikut menemani si sopir yang bertugas. Sikapnya semakin kentara. Bicaranya manis kepada saya, tidak kepada teman saya. Dia juga sering menyebut-nyebut soal saya ke sopir lain. "Tolong jaga Melati," konon katanya, karena ada sopir yang akhirnya bilang "Oh, ini Melati yang itu?". Lalu, seorang teman berkata, "Nggak apa-apa, Mel. Bagus jadi ada yang jagain." Seolah 'dijaga' adalah hal bagus (itu, omong-omong, bertentangan dengan pikiran saya yang cenderung ingin bertanya balik, "Memangnya perempuan harus dijaga? Hidupnya bergantung pada dijaga?"). 

'Dijaga'.

Sesuatu yang dijaga, konotasinya adalah benda rapuh. Benda berharga, tapi rapuh. Dijaga, konotasinya adalah properti. Saya bukan properti dia, saya juga tidak rapuh. Tapi saya perempuan. Bagaimanapun saya merasa tidak rapuh, ada dinding bernama 'kekuatan fisik' yang tidak bisa saya panjat. Di sebelahnya, ada dinding bernama 'masyarakat' dan 'paradigma' yang juga tidak bisa saya panjat. Sudah dari segi fisik saya jelas tidak akan sekuat laki-laki, masyarakat dan paradigma akan menyalahkan saya jika terjadi apa-apa. Salah saya karena mau ambil shift malam. Salah saya karena menanggapi si sopir mengobrol. Lalu, jika saya abaikan dia dan membuatnya (amit-amit) marah serta nekat, salah saya karena tidak ramah. Meskipun begitu, saya tetap bukan properti dia. Dia tidak perlu menjaga saya. Mungkin saya justru harus dijaga dari dia. Ah, saya melantur. Intinya, saya tidak suka dia bilang pada orang untuk menjaga saya seolah saya adalah properti dia yang rapuh. Ada batas privasi dan kebebasan yang, bagi saya, terlanggar begitu dia mengatakan begitu.

Anyway.

Keadaan mulai memuncak saat dia sendirian mengantar saya ke rumah. Dia bercerita tentang hidupnya. Saya dengarkan dan tanggapi karena pada dasarnya saya suka mengobrol. Mungkin saya yang salah. Saya selalu yang terakhir diantar karena rumah saya jauh. Dari rumah sebelum saya hingga ke rumah saya, dia mengemudi dengan sangat pelan. Saya tahu sangat pelan dan tidak wajar, karena dia biasa mengebut dari Kelapa Gading ke penumpang sebelum saya. Saya diamkan. Mungkin saya yang salah. Saya tidak tahu bagaimana menghadapi situasi seperti itu. Itu yang pertama kalinya. Dia cerita, saya dengarkan. Saat saya mulai merasa sangat tidak nyaman, jarak ke rumah saya sudah dekat. Saya merasa tidak perlu memburu-buru. Saya takut dianggap berlebihan. Mungkin saya yang salah.

Saat itu, dia bilang mau mampir ke rumah saya hari Minggu lalu. Untuk meminta tanda tangan saya di surat lembur, karena dia lupa membawanya minggu lalu. Kalau saya tidak tanda tangan, dia tidak dapat lembur. Saya bilang saya tidak pernah ada di rumah saat hari Minggu. 

Dia pernah meminta nomor telepon saya untuk keperluan surat lembur itu. Saya berikan karena awalnya, hanya untuk janjian di kantor. Tidak apa-apa. Tapi, soal ke rumah di luar jam kerja adalah langkah yang terlalu jauh. Saya tidak suka. 

Puncaknya, minggu lalu. Hampir setiap hari selama seminggu, dia ikut mengantar saya pulang bersama dua orang temannya. Itu saja sudah membuat saya merasa tidak nyaman. Buat apa ada sopir sampai tiga orang? Dan malam itu, saya ketiduran di mobil. Tentu saya tidur hanya saat masih ada teman sebelum saya. Begitu dia pulang, saya terus terjaga.

Sopir B bertanya, "Mel, kok diem aja?" Saya jawab, "Ngantuk." Sopir A mulai bertanya kapan biasanya saya terbangun. Kapan saya tidur. Apakah saya langsung tidur sesampainya di rumah. (Saya lupa bilang, sopir A suka banyak bertanya tentang transportasi yang saya naiki sebelum berangkat, pukul berapa saya berangkat). Saya bilang "Saya tidak suka shift malam." Maksudnya, karena saya tidak suka diantar malam-malam oleh sopir. 

Siang harinya di rumah, saya terbangun mendapati SMS darinya yang bilang "Happy weekend ya Mel. Maaf aku nggak enak tadi kamu sampai ketiduran gitu. Semoga kamu cepat dapat kerjaan yang lebih baik." 

Bagi saya itu pelanggaran batas yang sudah kelewatan. 

Terlepas dari urusan profesi dan jabatan (mengingat dia adalah sopir sementara saya penerjemah, dia kerja lapangan sementara saya kerja di kantor), saya tidak suka dia mencampuradukkan pekerjaan dan urusan pribadi. Apalagi, pekerjaan kami mengharuskan kami ada di mobil saat larut malam (dengan saya satu-satunya perempuan, atau dengan kami hanya berdua). Saya balas SMS-nya, "Santai, Mas. Namanya kerja ada capeknya." Mungkin salah saya. Merasa mendapat angin, dia membalas dengan SMS yang bersifat menggodai. Jelas-jelas flirting, meski diucapkan dengan jenaka. 

Pada dasarnya, saya orang yang defensif terhadap laki-laki yang mendekati saya. Bukan karena saya cantik, karena orang tidak perlu jadi cantik untuk bisa pilih-pilih. Hanya saja, tidak pernah mudah bagi saya untuk membuka diri terhadap orang baru. Saya tidak percaya ada yang benar-benar menyukai saya tanpa maksud macam-macam. Mungkin di antara semuanya, sayalah yang paling tidak menyukai diri saya sendiri. Atau mungkin itu karena setiap saya merasa mulai bisa dekat dengan orang, mereka pergi. Mungkin itu karena ruang privasi saya yang terlalu besar. Didekati, malah menganggap orang melanggar privasi.

Saya yang seperti ini, dihadapkan pada situasi di mana ada orang yang mendekati dengan terang-terangan, dalam posisi ada banyak waktu berdua, dan waktu itu ada di antara pukul 2 - 4 pagi di mana jalanan sudah sepi dan langit gelap dan di dalam mobil. Bukankah sangat wajar jika saya menjadi sangat sensitif? Sebut saya paranoid. Tidak masalah. 

* * *

Hal lain yang menyebalkan (ya, ini memang menyebalkan) adalah begitu saya cerita pada teman saya di kantor (sesama perempuan!) mereka justru menanggapinya sebagai candaan. Saat Sopir A mengindikasikan ada perasaan pada saya, teman saya bilang: "Tuh, Mel. Gimana tuh, ditanya." Saat saya cerita padanya, betapa saya merasa risih, dia bilang "Abis lo jomblo sih, Mel." Seolah jomblo adalah pangkal masalah. Seolah jomblo adalah kesalahan. Seolah jomblo adalah kekurangan. Tapi sejak kapan sih, kehidupan didefinisikan dengan status hubungan asmara? Tidakkah jadi cetek sekali tolak ukurnya? Lalu, kalau jomblo, saya harus permisif dengan ini? Okelah, jika tidak seperti itu. Katakanlah kalau jomblo, saya jadi ada yang melindungi. Ada yang memagari. Lalu, eksistensi saya kembali jadi properti seseorang. Karena bukankah paradigmanya, perempuan memang pada akhirnya jadi properti laki-laki?

Kemudian saya mengadu pada seorang teman di kantor yang selalu berurusan dengan para sopir. Dia punya pacar yang juga sopir dulunya. Dia bilang sebelum ada apa-apa, jangan langsung bilang pada Kepala Bagian. Selama belum ada kontak fisik, belum ada apa-apa namanya. Argumen bodoh. Tentunya dia tidak familiar dengan peribahasa "Sedia payung sebelum hujan". Bagus kalau kontak fisiknya hanya sebatas dicolek (meski membayangkan itu terjadi saja sudah membuat saya mual). Bagaimana jika kontak fisiknya kembali ke yang tadi: perkosaan, penculikan, pelecehan seksual? Apa dia bisa bantu jika itu terjadi? Dia bilang, banyak yang sudah mengeluh. Tolong saya jangan mengeluh lagi. Bisa-bisa para sopir itu kena dimarahi, akhirnya kita juga yang kena imbasnya jika mereka menyetir ugal-ugalan untuk balas dendam. Lagi pula, ini masalah perasaan. Bukan masalah kantor.

* * *

Batin saya berkonflik. Di satu sisi, saya merasa perempuan bisa berdiri sendiri. Saya tahu sekarang feminisme banyak yang menentang catcalling laki-laki, saya tahu feminisme banyak bicara tentang kemandirian perempuan. Tapi saya tidak bisa menutup mata dari kenyataan bahwa dalam situasi seperti ini (pulang larut malam, sendirian di mobil), tidak banyak pilihan bagi perempuan.

Saya ingin bilang bahwa paradigma perempuan yang pulang larut malam itu bukan perempuan baik-baik, perempuan yang pulang larut malam itu mengundang bahaya pada dirinya sendiri, sebagai paradigma yang salah. Saya ingin bilang perempuan berhak merasa aman. Tapi saya harus mengakui itu semua teori. Itu semua bentuk utopia. Sayangnya, manusia tidak terbentuk dari teori. Laki-laki akan tetap memiliki lebih banyak keuntungan jika berada dalam situasi ini, karena fisik yang lebih kuat dan jaminan dari paradigma sosial bahwa jika sesuatu yang buruk terjadi, itu semua salah perempuan. 

Dari kacamata paradigma ini, jika ada sesuatu yang buruk terjadi, mungkin salah saya karena saya mau shift malam. Dari awal, saya yang salah.

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Cerita Musim Panas #4: Singapura! DAY ONE

"The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page." (Augustine of Hippo)
Sebagai pecinta buku dan pecinta kutipan-kutipan mengenai buku, gue pernah merasa kesal membaca kutipan di atas karena belum pernah traveling. Saat itu gue berpikir tidak akan bisa traveling. Gue selalu sulit mendapat izin orang tua. Namun, seiring pertambahan usia, gue akhirnya mendapat izin untuk bepergian dan berangkatlah gue ke Singapura.

Gue tahu, Singapura bukan lagi tujuan asing bagi sebagian besar orang Indonesia (dan mungkin juga sebagian besar masyarakat dunia). Siapa yang tidak kenal Orchard Road dan Little India? Siapa tidak pernah mendengar tentang Patung Merlion? Sedikitnya, orang pasti pernah ke Singapura minimal satu kali. Bahkan bagi gue, perjalanan kemarin ini bukan yang pertama kalinya. Dulu, meski hanya setengah hari, gue sudah pernah merasakan makan di Little India dan mengunjungi Jurong Bird Park.

Meski begitu, perjalanan kemarin adalah kali pertama gue benar-benar berkeliling Singapura.

Hari 1: 2 Agustus 2015
Kami berangkat dari Bandara Soekarno-Hatta pada pukul 11.20. Karena Singapura tidak terlalu jauh, perjalanan hanya memakan waktu kurang lebih satu jam. Di pesawat, tempat duduk kami terpisah. Dua teman gue duduk bersama, sedangkan gue duduk di sebelah seorang nenek yang berasal dari Cibinong.

Seperti biasa kalau suasana hati gue sedang baik, gue bersedia bercakap-cakap (bahkan memulai percakapan) dengan orang asing. Begitu juga yang terjadi dengan si nenek ini. Beliau bercerita tentang tujuannya pergi ke Singapura, yaitu untuk mengunjungi besannya. Katanya, karena disibukkan dengan toko di Cibinong, mereka baru sempat pergi ke Singapura hari itu untuk halal bi halal. Awalnya gue pikir, langka sekali ada keluarga Muslim di Sngapura. Namun, ternyata memang begitu adanya (yang berarti pemikiran gue didasari oleh prasangka semata), dan justru (ini yang menarik) keluarga si nenek sebenarnya Katolik. Anak perempuannya menjadi mualaf setelah bertemu dengan suaminya. Kenapa menarik? Karena setahu gue, pemeluk agama Katolik sama taatnya dengan pemeluk agama Islam sehingga sulit dibayangkan bisa ada yang pindah agama. Tapi, begitulah adanya, dan itu membuktikan kepada saya bahwa tidak ada yang tidak mungkin. 

Sang nenek sangatlah baik. Beliau menawarkan gue makanan, yang jelas gue terima dengan senang hati karena gue memang lapar pada saat itu. Kemudian, saat gue kebingungan mengisi formulir imigrasi (karena itu adalah saat pertama bagi gue), beliau bahkan menawarkan formulir imigrasi anaknya untuk gue lihat sebagai contoh. Beliau bercerita bahwa dulu beliau pun sering bepergian bersama teman-teman ke luar negeri, tapi itu sudah lama sekali ketika masih muda. Sekarang, beliau sudah lupa cara mengisi formulir imigrasi. Gue menikmati perjalanan sambil mengobrol dengan beliau.

Sesampainya di Singapura, gue dan kedua teman langsung menuju tempat pembelian tourist pass agar kami bisa menggunakan transportasi umum Singapura seperti MRT. Kami membaca di blog seorang traveler bahwa tourist pass cukup memudahkan (dan memurahkan) turis untuk berkeliling Singapura. Untuk tiga hari, harganya dua puluh dolar Singapura. Untuk tiketnya sendiri seharga sepuluh dolar Singapura, menjadikannya total 30 SGD, tapi tiket itu bisa diuangkan kembali setelah tiga hari. Hal itu bagus karena bisa dijadikan uang pegangan. Kita akan masih punya 10 SGD saat pulang nanti.

Setelah membeli tourist pass, kami segera bergerak menuju halte MRT Lavender, karena penginapan kami berada di sekitar situ. Kami berencana untuk menaruh barang, lalu segera pergi. Karena kami hanya punya waktu tiga hari di Singapura, kami harus memanfaatkan waktu yang ada dengan sebaik-baiknya.

Nama penginapan kami adalah Gusti Bed and Breakfast. Pemiliknya bisa berbahasa Indonesia (dan menurut salah satu teman, di daerah itu memang ada banyak orang Indonesia), dan konon suaminya orang Bali. Namun, gue tidak bertanya-tanya lebih lanjut mengenai ini.

Satu hal yang menarik dari penginapan itu adalah dia berfungsi sebagai shared room. Artinya, nanti kami akan berbagi kamar dengan turis-turis lain, baik dari Indonesia maupun mancanegara. Laki-laki ataupun perempuan akan ditempatkan seadanya kamar kosong, yang berarti kami tidak bisa terlalu pilih-pilih. Awalnya, gue khawatir dengan keamanannya. Tapi, prospek bertemu traveler lain terlalu menyenangkan untuk diabaikan.

Saat kami tiba di sana, kamar kami kosong. Hanya ada sebuah koper dengan name tag yang menunjukkan nama yang sangat Indonesia. Kebetulan juga, kata si pemilik, hanya ada perempuan di kamar kami. Kami meletakkan barang-barang, kemudian segera pergi untuk petualangan pertama kami.

Makan di Little India
Menurut Google, ada Festival Makanan Singapura hari itu. Karena kami bingung mau makan apa dan festival makanan terdengar menarik, kami memutuskan akan mengunjungi festival itu terlebih dulu. Namun, di Google, tidak ada lokasi jelas mengenai keberadaan si festival. Kami bertanya pada pemilik penginapan, katanya terletak di seberang Bugis Junction. Itulah alasan Bugis Street jadi tempat pertama yang kami kunjungi.

Namun, saat kami tiba di Bugis Street, tidak terlihat adanya festival makanan. Kami memutuskan untuk bertanya pada salesperson yang sedang membagi-bagikan pamflet di depan Bugis Junction. Dia sangat baik; dia tidak tahu juga tentang lokasinya, tapi dia berusaha mencarikan di internet. Sayangnya, tidak ada petunjuk jelas mengenai si festival. Hingga hari ini, kami masih bingung festival itu ada di mana.

Karena lapar, kami akhirnya memutuskan makan yang paling aman kehalalannya, yaitu restoran vegetarian di Little India. Kami dipandu ke sana oleh seorang guru seni yang kami temui di jalan. Fara yang bertanya padanya. Dia merekomendasikan restoran Komala Villas. Jadilah, makanan pertama kami di Singapura adalah makanan India.

Chappati plate dan set nasi biryani



Meski kurang cocok di lidah gue, sehingga gue tidak bisa makan terlalu banyak, gue mau makan makanan India lagi dan lagi. Ini kedua kalinya gue makan set nasi biryani; yang pertama di restoran India vegetarian yang terletak tidak jauh dari Komala Villas, yaitu Ananda Bhavan. Rasanya kurang lebih sama.

Kesan gue saat berada di Little India adalah bahwa tempat itu sangat ramai. Gue tidak tahu seperti apa aslinya rupa kota di India, tapi Little India sendiri jelas berbeda dari tempat-tempat lain di Singapura yang nanti satu per satu akan gue ceritakan. Di Little India, pasar segar - atau kios-kios yang menjual buah, paling tidak - cukup banyak terlihat. Kemudian, banyak penjual gelang-gelang manik-manik. Lalu, ada wangi dupa atau semacamnya (?) yang cukup kentara di tiap toko yang kami kunjungi.

Laser Show @ Marina Bay Sands
Kami tidak menghabiskan banyak waktu di Little India karena konon ada pertunjukkan laser di Marina Bay Sands. Jadi, kami naik MRT ke sana. Kendaraan umum di Singapura, jika dibandingkan dengan di Indonesia, jauh sekali bedanya. Di sana, kendaraan umum memfasilitasi warga lokal maupun turis dengan  sangat baik. Petunjuknya jelas dan mudah dimengerti. Kita hanya perlu membaca. Ditambah lagi, bahasa Inggris merupakan salah satu bahasa dominan di sana sehingga untuk menanyakan arah bisa lebih mudah. Warga Singapura pun, mungkin karena Singapura adalah negara yang banyak dikunjungi, terbuka terhadap turis dan sangat membantu.

Pokoknya, malam itu, dengan mudah kami mencapai Marina Bay Sands. Dari stasiun MRT ke lokasi pertunjukan, kami berjalan kaki. Menurut gue, jaraknya tidak terlalu jauh. Jalanan di sana rapi dan lebih kosong daripada jalanan Jakarta, jadi kondisi untuk jalan kaki pun lebih nyaman.

Sesampainya di lokasi, kami disambut oleh gemerlap lampu hias tersebar di seluruh area. Ada patung-patung angka yang menunjukkan pertumbuhan negara Singapura. Ada musisi jalanan yang memainkan alat musik tradisional China. Ada bangku-bangku santai tempat berbaring menikmati sungai (atau laut?) di malam hari yang dikelilingi lampu-lampu bangunan pencakar langit Singapura.






Suasana seperti itu saja sudah indah buat gue, meski terlalu romantis untuk dinikmati bersama teman-teman sesama jomblo, tapi pertunjukkan lasernya jauh lebih indah. Luar biasa!

Anyway, kami harus segera pulang karena takut ketinggalan MRT terakhir. Jadilah kami tidak menonton pertunjukkan lasernya hingga akhir. Sebelum pulang, kami sempatkan mengejar foto dengan bianglala dan Esplanade yang terlihat seperti durian raksasa dari kejauhan. Mungkin karena capek setelah seharian bergerak nonstop, gue sedikit sebal karena sedikit-sedikit harus foto. Gue yang tidak suka durian jadi semakin sebal dengan durian karena seseorang memastikan dirinya foto dengan Esplanade sebagai latar dari berbagai sisi. Tapi, ini baru setengah hari pertama. Buat apa bersungut-sungut karena itu?

Teman-teman seperjalanan gue mengeluh kaki mereka sakit karena alas kaki yang mereka gunakan kurang memadai dari segi kenyamanan. Tapi, apa daya, kami harus berjalan agar sampai ke penginapan. Meski pelan-pelan, akhirnya kami tiba di stasiun MRT dan kemudian naik MRT sampai di Stasiun Lavender yang berada di dekat penginapan. Dari sana, kami jalan lagi ke penginapan.

First Roommates
Kami bertanya-tanya siapa yang akan jadi teman sekamar kami. Jelas sekali orang Indonesia, tapi orang yang seperti apa? Saat kami tiba di kamar, ternyata mereka adalah cewek-cewek seusia kami. Awalnya, kami merasa senang karena teman seusia berarti teman. Namun, setelah mengamati, mereka ini ternyata semacam snob. Tanpa maksud mendiskreditkan anak-anak gaul, karena gaul itu boleh saja dan malah keren di saat-saat tertentu, di mata gue saat itu, mereka ini cuma tahu gaul. Sedikit bodoh dan jelas ignorant meski katanya mereka lulusan universitas ternama.

Bagi gue, shared room berarti kita harus berinteraksi dengan penghuni kamar selain kita. Buat apa pilih shared room kalau kita mau memperlakukan kamar seolah itu hanya dihuni oleh kita dan teman-teman kita? Shared room tidak seperti kendaraan umum di mana kita bisa duduk tanpa menyapa kanan-kiri. Kalau mau begitu, ada baiknya silakan saja menyewa kamar pribadi.

Tapi, karena memiliki pendapat berbeda itu sah-sah saja, jadi gue harus memaklumi mereka yang kelihatannya memiliki pendapat berbeda ini. Sebelumnya, dari mana gue tahu mereka punya pendapat berbeda? Alkisah, di kamar itu ada penghuni lain seperti mereka, yaitu seorang bapak yang tidak kelihatan rupanya karena konon pergi dari pagi hingga larut malam.  Sepertinya ada kesalahpahaman antara pemilik penginapan dengan si bapak, karena pemilik penginapan memberikan tempat tidur si bapak untuk gue. Jadilah gue bertanya-tanya pada cewek-cewek ini tentang teman sekamar mereka. Ternyata, cewek-cewek ini tidak tahu-menahu tentang si bapak.

Ada hal yang lucu tentang ini. Cewek-cewek itu bilang mereka suka menggosipkan si bapak yang konon mengorok dengan keras. Gue diam saja karena gue saat itu sedang dalam mode pengamatan; gue belum tahu kisah mereka. Lalu, karena gue perlu berinteraksi dengan si bapak mengenai masalah tempat tidur itu, gue mengajaknya ngobrol. Awalnya, dalam bahasa Inggris. Kemudian, dalam bahasa Indonesia. Ternyata si bapak adalah orang Indonesia! Gue berpikir, bagaimana perasaan cewek-cewek itu begitu tahu si bapak orang Indonesia.

Hal lucu kedua tentang gosip cewek-cewek itu adalah karena ternyata dua dari mereka mengorok dengan jauh lebih keras daripada si bapak. Mereka itu sekumpulan lelucon.

Kekesalan gue terhadap cewek-cewek itu didasari oleh kesan tidak sopan yang mereka tampilkan. Tanpa izin, mereka memakai extension colokan yang ada di kamar. Kami pikir itu punya mereka, mereka pikir itu punya kami. Ternyata itu punya si bapak. Kalau mereka sopan, tentu mereka akan meminta izin dulu kepada kami kalau mereka benar berpikir itu punya kami. Sekarang, itu ternyata punya si bapak, dan bahkan setelah mereka tahu, mereka bersikap seolah mereka tidak mendengar. Bicaranya, sih, mau belanja di Sephora, mau naik taksi ke sana dan ke sini, pamer ini-itu ke sosial media... tapi dengan sopan-santun minus seperti itu, kalau gue jadi mereka, gue akan malu.

Ditambah lagi, mereka sangat menyebalkan soal miskomunikasi tempat tidur itu. Tipikal orang yang hanya banyak bicara tanpa memberikan solusi. Tapi, sungguh, kekesalan gue menguap begitu gue mendengar cewek-cewek itu mengorok dengan keras. Bukan karena mengoroknya, karena semua orang bisa mengorok, gue pun begitu - tapi lebih karena mereka SANGAT termakan omongan sendiri. Sungguh, lain kali gue mungkin lebih baik ikut bergosip dengan mereka tentang mereka sendiri. Betapa lucunya.

Friday, July 3, 2015

My Happiness Project

I was unhappy just recently. A friend of mine shared the same unhappiness. My unhappiness was mostly caused by the blunder at work, and it dragged me to the point where other things in my life seemed as helpless and pointless. I felt like a failure. And of course the fact that I am still single in an environment where my friends are getting married or having the time of their life with their significant others adds another element of despair.

Thus, we, the unhappy people, decided to work on our happiness project. Basically, the idea is to open up more and to be grateful of little things in life, such as trying new things. In tonight's post, I would like to share how our happiness project going.

1) A jar of yearly happiness.
This project has actually been going on since last year, when I was working on my bachelor thesis. I was happy then, but I saw this brilliant idea on Instagram/Tumblr, and I was inspired to work on my own yearly happiness. So what you have to do is to write on a piece of small paper the things or moments that make you happy, or at least smile. The importance of this project is to appreciate the small happiness in your everyday life. It will go into effect when you look at your jar and see it filled with small rolls of paper, and when you open them all on the last day of the year. You will realize then how you are blessed with many happiness throughout the year. It reminds you to be thankful over and over again.

2) Quora
Quora is a website for open discussions about many things. My friend recommended it to me. We are both often take life too seriously and, man, are we thinkers. We contemplate about a lot of things: about finding love, about being judged by appearance, about not being beauty enough according to society's standards, about happiness, about religion and faith, about money, about the philosophy of life. In Quora, you meet many over-contemplating people alike, and you encounter many interesting questions and answers that just help channeling your inner thirst for discussion. Believe me, engaging yourself in Quora helps you (especially if you are as curious about the society with whom we live today as my friend and I). 
So far, the two things help me finding happiness. They free a little part of me who wants to fly away from the maze called reality. And they help me see that reality's not all bad.

3) Being a 'Yes' Man/Woman
Opening up and seeing life with new (better) perspective, more positive outlook, are easier said than done. However, being a 'Yes' woman can be one of the ways to start. My friend starts to use online community app to connect with new people, therefore creating new bonds and bringing fresh experience to her life. She also starts to accept blind dates arranged by her friends, therefore, again, creating new bonds and bringing fresh experience. Although it doesn't necessarily mean a lover is guaranteed for her, getting to know new people and expanding her world help her to see how small her problems are compared to the wide, wide universe surrounding her. As for me, I am not so lucky to have blind dates arranged for me (yet), but I try my best to believe my new connections are just around the corner.  

For those of you who happen to encounter similar problems and need to find happiness, I recommend the three for you. x

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

On Leaving School and Moving Forward

For those of you who don't know (and who might care enough to read this post - I know one of my students follow my blog, so this is for if you read it), I am leaving school. It'll probably be official on July 5. The reason of leaving is not important for you, but just know that IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF YOU GUYS. Students were never the reason.

Anyway, I think it is great to know that in that short period, I got new friends. I made new bonds. I know this because earlier someone sent me the quote about friends and she told me I am a good enough friend. It warmed my heart, truly. And some fellow teachers actually told me they will miss me when I'm gone. I don't know if this is the Leo part in me (I'm actually the Cusp of Exposure, so I'm part-Leo, part-Virgo), but those kinds of thing make me happy; you know, to be liked. It sounds pathetic, I know.

Some of my students also said that they will miss me, and - this was the surprising part - some of them declared that I was one of their favorite teachers. I have zero talent in teaching, and I am aware some students (if not all) see me as an Omega, so the declaration came off as a pleasant surprise for me. At least they consider me as a friend. I'd like to keep it that way if they would.

Unfortunately, this melancholy is not enough to keep me here. Overall, I still think my decision to leave work at school is the best for us all, although it had been completely unannounced until the very last second and I really am sorry for that. 

Hence, now is the time for another new chapter in 2015. I honestly don't want to look back at the unfortunate events that have happened if it is not necessary. I got my life back, why bother getting burnt by the past? Let's just hope this one lasts longer that the previous one.

Monday, June 8, 2015

Almost!

"You wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down." - Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon
“I am free, no matter what rules surround me. If I find them tolerable, I tolerate them; if I find them too obnoxious, I break them. I am free because I know that I alone am morally responsible for everything I do.”  - Robert A. Heinlein
“Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything - anger, anxiety, or possessions - we cannot be free.” - Thich Nhat Hanh, The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching: Transforming Suffering into Peace, Joy, and Liberation
“And the turtles, of course...all the turtles are free, as turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be.” - Dr. Seuss, Yertle the Turtle and Other Stories
“If other people do not understand our behavior—so what? Their request that we must only do what they understand is an attempt to dictate to us. If this is being "asocial" or "irrational" in their eyes, so be it. Mostly they resent our freedom and our courage to be ourselves. We owe nobody an explanation or an accounting, as long as our acts do not hurt or infringe on them. How many lives have been ruined by this need to "explain," which usually implies that the explanation be "understood," i.e. approved. Let your deeds be judged, and from your deeds, your real intentions, but know that a free person owes an explanation only to himself—to his reason and his conscience—and to the few who may have a justified claim for explanation.” - Erich Fromm, The Art of Being 
 “She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom.” - Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter
 “Free at last, Free at last, Thank God almighty we are free at last.” - Martin Luther King Jr., I Have a Dream: Writings and Speeches That Changed the World

*

So, the reason behind these rows of quotes about freedom is the fact that I have submitted my resignation letter to the school. Well, technically, it was not a letter, but I have spoken to the human resource division and they warmly welcomed my resignation. 

I cannot explain how I thankful I was for being received so pleasantly although she said how hard it is to find new teachers, especially when I notified them in such short notice. In my defense, there is no rule in the legal contract that says I have to notify them at least three months before the end of the contract term. I was still in probation period, anyway. We would have to sit and talk about the continuation of my stay there, anyway. And I have planned to quit, anyway. 

The only problem now is my co-worker, my partner in class, the one who hired me. I haven't told her yet, but I think I will as soon as the term really ends. That means I probably will do it after the graduation. 

My attitude toward this whole thing is sorry not sorry. I am not too sorry about leaving the school in such difficult situation because I just am not. There are too many painful things there and I'd better save my ass before it stuck longer and I can't bail. I know I've made the right decision for now because I felt lighthearted almost as soon as I notified the school.

If you (or anyone) must know, the students were never the reason for me to leave. They could be difficult at times, they could be really disrespectful and think of me more as a peer than a teacher, but they were not so much a pain in the ass. As I am sure I have mentioned somewhere on my previous posts, they were teenagers. They were of age. And they were what teacher is about. I see them the way I see documents that need translating: they are not wrong. The fault is in the aspects surrounding them. 

I won't spoil your reading by giving further detail about the fault because it has been enough said in this post and in other posts regarding my soon-to-be ex-job. Just bear in mind that I am happy enough to have my life back.

Friday, May 29, 2015

I just talked to my mother about my longing heart. Everything in my life lately is about the longing to go, not toward someplace, but from here. About the longing to find God not in a place where God's name has been stained with prejudice and extremity and fanaticism. About the longing to escape from the suffocating reality of a "dry, yeastless factuality".

Sometimes I wonder if she regrets having let me study at the faculty of humanities. I wonder if she regrets having let me read all the books I've read. But my world has become so small; it's trapping me inside. It has become so limited. I am chained to my own life.

Hence, I live many lives. I acquaint myself with great books because
A great book should leave you with many experiences, and slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading. (William Styron)
 I am so at a point of no return.

Learning from "Life a Pi"

I'm still reading Yann Martel's Life of Pi since months ago, not because I find it boring, but because I can't find the right time to snuggle up and absorb every word of it (and because reading it on my phone brings me headache). Now that I have the book, I'm rereading it from the beginning.

I think at least I have gone through the first chapters of Life of Pi three times and it still fascinates me. Earlier today, an acquaintance told me that this book is a weird book, and I just laughed but I didn't quite understand why. As an over-analyzing person, I reflected on what makes the book appealing to me. Then it occurred to me that the first chapters are about religion and its spirituality. My acquaintance, as far as I know, is not a spiritual person. At least, not that I know of. That's probably why she finds it weird. 

However, if you've read my previous posts, you know how I am attracted to religious stuff more than I'm willing to admit to anyone outside my college circle of friends (of course, because it's them with whom I talk about this subject the most). 

Anyway, I re-encountered my favorite quote today

I find the quote strongly affects me. It does not only say that the essence - or the "soul" - of every religion (at least the three that are mentioned here) is basically the same, but also that we need to see through the differences in rites and practices. If everyone sees this like Martel, wouldn't life be more peaceful?

Saying that Martel was trying to suggest religious toleration using this quote might diminish the true meaning he had in mind while writing the story (because I think it's deeper than toleration; it's about seeing religion apart from its layer of practice and rites, but then again, Oscar Wilde told us that art mirrors its spectator, which in this case, is me).

Anyway, I really like the depiction of Pi. Similar to what I went through with Bodhi in Supernova: Akar (2002), I can really relate myself to Pi's journey of finding God. This book liberated me from my incapability and limitation to experience and to choose because it illustrated that liberty enough as Pi bathed in the clarity of the three religions. 

I am at a loss for words, so I can only say that the world needs more inspiring books like this.

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

I have been unfair...

...about my job. There are things I like about it, such as the freedom to choose your outfit. You won't have to wear discomforting uniform if you work there. And there are the students. And there are the jokes. And there is the power. And there is the time when you finally see what's it like to become a teacher. Those clarity moments.

Saturday, May 9, 2015

All over the place!

My thoughts are scattered all over the place! I'll try to sum them up in one paragraph each. Let's see how it works.

How I am valued
Just yesterday, one of my closest friends and I had a serious talk about this guy with whom I used to spent lots of time together. He told me that if this guy's not right for me, I don't have to worry because - indeed it was the term he used - I am a "valuable woman". Oh, he meant good... even though then he said I'm not ugly and I look cute and I look like a good girl... so I asked him whether my value had been just about looks. He told me it hadn't been so, that I also have a good inner side; but the priority is crystal clear, isn't it? Boys, I thought. Well, I still feel thankful for him because he humored me and he really meant good. He's a sincere friend. There's no doubt about it.

Again, my (not so) pathetic, pathetic working life
I have to admit that I have been unfair and too hard on my new environment. I talked to some of my friends and they, too, don't like their first job (even one has submitted her resignation letter!). Hence, I thought jobs must be simply suck, probably especially first jobs. And meeting up with old friends makes me realize that my world is wide. It is not limited to a certain environment. So now it's up to me: will I let my sickening and maddening working environment ruin MY ENTIRE LIFE? I love my life better than that. Then, I guess it's time to see life with a more positive outlook. YOUR LIFE IS BIGGER AND FAR MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOUR JOB, REALLY.

We're so living in a stereotypical world and Allegiant (2013) sums it up
"But now I am wondering if I need it anymore, if we ever really need these words, 'Dauntless', 'Erudite', 'Divergent', 'Allegiant', or if we can just be friends or lovers or siblings, defined instead by the choices we make and the love and loyalty that binds us." (Roth: 2013, p. 134).
Now replace the name of the factions and groups with religions or races or ethnicity. You see? The Divergent series are a simplified reality.

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Some thoughts on "IMPULSE FOR THE HOMOGENOUS"

Last week I googled collective sadism for my writing project and found this:


Basically it is about how the "impulse for the homogenous", or the tendency toward homogeneity, drives nations to hatred toward other nations (but do read the article and correct me if I got it wrong). 

I read the article and it was not about the hatred of nations that I understood; instead, it was about how the impulse for the homogenous is probably the core of almost all major problems we face today (and older days).

Name it. Racism, gender inequality, religions intolerance... these are only some of the problems I am sure we are all familiar with. Racism is strongly related to America, be it back in the days or today in its post-racial issues, but it also happened in Indonesia with the alienated Chinese people. Gender inequality, on the other hand, is an issue that is still hotly debated. People have long started to realize the importance of gender equality - proven with the ever-growing feminism - but then there's its counterstrike: meninism. I don't know if the phenomenon is a match for years of feminism growth, but it could be the beginning. Then there's religions intolerance, my favorite subject, which is the most visible major problem in Indonesia. It is tragic really, considering Indonesia was once regarded as a diverse and tolerant country. 

After reading the first article (The Hatred of Nations), I rethought my understanding about these problems and realize that it is likely that they were caused by the same impulse for the homogenous. For racism, it is clear that white people strongly disliked the different skin color. Actually, it wasn't dislike they started with. It started with the thought that the color difference meant different place on Earth, creating some sort of caste system, because there was the arrogance of white supremacy. In Indonesia, on the other hand, the racism against Chinese people wasn't originated from the color difference. It had something to do with political issues and communism, but in the end everything associated with Chinese characteristics (which means including their looks) decided the treatment they received.

Gender inequality was clearly caused by the tendency toward homogeneity because there are judgments toward women: that women are incapable, weak, the second sex. These judgments were made by the other sex, which is obviously male, and since then created an image of what women are. But before we discuss this issue deeper, let's not confuse gender and sex. Putting it simply, sex is male and female (the biological difference; between the one with penis and the one with vagina), and gender is man and woman (the stereotype of male and female's characteristics, that is the masculinity and the femininity). There are people who overgeneralized and associate gender with sex, saying a female must be feminine and a male must be masculine when it actually doesn't always have to be that way. Anyway, the decision that women are the second sex were made by men who thought that their sex was better. Come to think of it, did they really think that being physically stronger and thinking more logically make them the better sex? I don't think of myself as a feminist, but surely I oppose this idea. Back to the topic, I'm just saying that the very own thought that men can judge and put women in their 'place' was probably caused by the very impulse for the homogenous itself. It's basically drawing a bold line between men and women.

And finally we get to the last one: religions intolerance. This, I will based on my conversation with my friend earlier. This is an issue that has long been heard in the world, but only recently did I take notice of it. I think it started in 2012 or so for me. As far as I see, there is no firm ground for religions toleration in Indonesia. Religion has been a sensitive issue for years because it is related to our beliefs. For me, I don't see why people make it a problem because one's belief is related to one's inner self. There is no judge there, there is no standard there, there is no evaluation there. The proof that one has believed correctly is a matter in God's hand and no one but oneself would be there on the Judgment Day (or the Underworld, or the reincarnation circle, or whatever people believe in). Having faith in a religion is like taking an exam for a lifetime. The score comes out in our death. Religion is that simple for me.

Don't fuss and be a prick who preaches right and wrong because you just fucking don't know, but alas, not everyone shares my value. This is so related to that very impulse for the homogenous because some people think their religion is the correct one and thus, any difference is wrong. God, I don't know how many times I should highlight that truth is subjective. People just can't see, can they? This impulse is okay if they just keep it to themselves, yet they have to act on it. They have to exterminate those who are different. If something does not go along with their religious moral compass, they just have to fix it. They do not see that not everyone's moral compasses head the same way. Obviously, this creates a never-ending conflict in Indonesia, especially because some of the majority of Indonesian population are freak fanatics who think they're better than everyone else. Please, like they already have the guarantee of being sent to Heaven. 

Anyway, my point is that the impulse for the homogenous is a scary thing, but it is also a very humane characteristic. I mean, to create these major conflicts, it must be a viral thing. This impulse is not only felt by one or two people; it influences a group of people. No wonder it appears in my Google search for collective sadism. 


* * *

P.S. I just remembered that the Hitler case was also caused by a clear and strong impulse for the homogenous. Really, humans are scary. Even myself scares me.

Some thoughts on MARRIAGE

Marriage
Really. Marriage. If you are in your early-to-mid 20s and you live in Indonesia, marriage is a subject you cannot avoid. It is viral - even more than a gossip on the internet. Marriage used to be a topic only overly nosy aunts and uncles had the guts to ask, but now it is among even peers. Unwilling peers, in my case.

Oh, do not be mistaken. We do want to marry our asses off, but it is something easier said than done and people just cannot see that. It is probably because they don't see what we see and vice versa, or the meaning and goal of marriage is just different for us.

Of course when you talk about marriage, love comes to mind. At least, it is that way for me. Who doesn't want to marry for love? Seeing the love of your life walks to you and hold your hands in his and looks at you with the promise of forever are the beautiful things related with the image of marriage. I want that. I believe most people do. Some people are lucky enough to get the whole package, but others are not that lucky (although, then again, the definition of lucky is relative). I do not want to think that I am unlucky despite the fact that sometimes it is hard to not think that way, but let's just use one perspective of lucky here: girls who marry at their early 20s are lucky - it is better if they marry for love. 

So you see, the focus of marriage in Indonesia for girls at our early 20s has shifted. It is no longer the dream of the perfect one; it is the age deadline. Love is a bonus. When you reach, say, 23, people start approaching you and ask when you'll marry or who's your future husband. And when you say you don't know yet, they start preaching you and telling you that girls should not delay marriage... as if there's not enough deadline in life. 

At first, it was really hard to not get mad when people preach. I had thought it was unfair. Not everyone has the chance to meet the apple of their eyes so soon in life! But that's when it struck me: people keep focusing on the age deadline that they no longer see the beautiful things (and then again, the definition of beautiful is also relative). It led me, by the way, to another clarity: people want different things. 

Some people see marriage as a means to achieve happiness. Probably they want to be united with their true love. Other people see marriage as a safety belt. Marriage provides security, insurance, stability, the guarantee that you won't be alone on your deathbed. Religious people see marriage as a means to avoid sins and adultery - for girls: a handover from parents to husbands. 

Oh, those views are fine. What's not fine is how people force their view on marriage to other people. They mean well, of course, but it kinda hurt my feelings sometimes. To be honest, I used to dream of marrying the perfect guy at 23, but when I reached 21 it all changed. Marriage becomes something so faraway and unimaginable in the near future. I'm 22 and still it's not in my imagined near future. First, because of the nonexistent boyfriend. Second, because there are things I wanna try first. I want to be settled in life before sharing it with anyone for the rest of it.
I think it is safe to say that if I had a boyfriend right now, I probably wouldn't say the same. I probably would be planning the perfect wedding in my mind. But I don't have one, so yeah. But do I regret it? Do I feel sorry for myself? It turns out to be a big no because I find myself chasing other goals. Trust me, I have plenty of it. You're probably thinking that I'm in denial and that's your choice, but really - life is not just about preparing ourselves to marry.

What I feel sorry about is how people think that my kind of girls are unlucky. That we are picky or worse: that we are not picked. I feel sorry about how people think there is a deadline for marriage and those who pass it are pitiable. But I feel sorry the most for people who think us girls live for marriage and that our worth is decided by our marriageability.

Friday, April 17, 2015

A bit enlightened

I've been doing some thinking and I decided that the problem doesn't lie with my job and the huge stack of responsibility; instead, it lies with the people I work with. 

I know that according to the Dalai Lama, 
...and I totally agree! But it feels so hard for me these days that I have to give up this value that I shared with Dalai Lama.

I have been teaching for almost three months now, and it is still too soon to conclude anything, but I really cannot help thinking this way. This, by the way, I realize just recently because I just recently hung out with other people at school with whom I have not really worked together, and suddenly school became enjoyable. 

Of course that is because I don't hang out with them all the time - and that got me thinking perhaps I should just let it be because hanging out with them all the time, which means knowing almost everything about them, can make me stop liking them - but I want to keep it that way for now. I am so exhausted working with some people that I really appreciate an escape. Sad, because I have had no need for any escape back in college. 

Earlier today, my student told me that he did not like the school. He said that kind of thing to me quite often. The first one was at Yogya, when he told me to be straightforward with him and that he was tired with the flowery words people at school used to cover the ugly truth. Then some complains about one of his teachers - how she could be so arrogant and too institutional at times - then this. 

I don't know how many times and in how many different medias I have to say I couldn't agree more.

I don't like the school either for many reasons he and I might share if we dug deeper into this topic. I also found that most of the people here are the type of people I loath the most. You know, the people with sweet mouth and hidden agenda. The two-faced kind of people. My God, I hope they can be just honest and true and humble... because at times, they could be these arrogant snobs who think they know everything. Really, I admire the beauty of not knowing AND wanting to learn - a beauty that is seemingly expired here and now.

Speaking of arrogant snobs, I also found that the teacher my student referred to earlier was arrogant. I have my issues with her myself, so I might have slightly different reasons for this. I do not really want to go further into this, so let's just say that there are times I cannot stand her being a bitch about work. She's not bitching, she's being the bitch. But, yeah, some people are meant to be bitches or else the world will be a boring place filled with only prudes and apathetic people.
You see, this way of thinking is what makes me find myself relate more with him more often than with fellow teachers. And this way of thinking is not acceptable for a person in my position. Although, notice that I only mention him because not all students share the same thought and not all students have this progressive way of thinking. 

However, today, at the end of the conversation with him, his concluding remarks slapped me: "I don't like this school, but I tried to do something to make it better!" which shouldn't have been unexpected because he is seemingly just that kind of person. I used to be that kind of person, too, who does not dwell in misery and despair from a hopeless situation. 

Now, I don't know if what I'm doing now can be considered as doing something to make it better because I am aware that I complain a lot about a lot of things. I've been feeling so unhappy, but I don't remember doing something to make it better. Sure I write a lot lately, and I read a lot, and I keep watching and re-watching movies... and those do make my life a little more bearable. Still, I should be able to do something really significant that can make it truly better. He's been here for almost two years, while I'm in here for barely three months, but I'm years older than him and been through many tough situations, so I hope by the end of the semester, I can find something to do to make it all better.

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Dying Dreams

Earlier this week, my friend asked me to review his second short article criticizing a theater performance he watched and was disappointed with. Last night, he told me it has been published and asked me to comment on it. This morning, I read it. 

It was an easily understood article. His arguments were strongly elaborated, his complicated and literally-translated terms were sufficiently explained, the article was introduced and concluded nicely... so overall, I think it was a good article. Surely it was, because it has been published. 

Reading the article, I felt a bit nostalgic because, first, criticizing art (movies, books, etc) was what we did in college and it has been so long since I last did it seriously. Second, it was because my friend used the theory I had used as a tool in my thesis. That is, the adaptation theory by Linda Hutcheon. But that doesn't matter.

I also felt proud for him because he wrote something worth reading and even got it published. As far as I know, he hadn't wanted to be a writer or journalist, so I could only think that getting published was probably not his aim; getting people to know how he think about the play is. Hence, I was happy for him.

However, and this is so low of me, I feel kinda sad. I had been the one who wanted to be journalist and here I am, stuck with the job I hadn't wanted the most. And I envy him because he used everything he learned at college - not the grammar part, because he wrote in Bahasa - and got where he is right now. He looks like everything I want to be; everything I had dreamed of - not just a journalist, but also a critical one. 

Considering what I have been doing up to now, I am nowhere near my dream of becoming a journalist. Nevermind the critical one. This got me questioning: is my dream dying now? Am I now too occupied with my job? I can't help thinking that way, because working as a full-timer really occupies my life, but no. That is not the problem. 

To be completely honest, back when I didn't have a job (and was frantically looking for one), I didn't even think much of being a journalist. I hadn't applied for a journalist position - I had applied for editor or translator position because those were what I liked best. Even up till now. What's more, I hadn't tried to write anything critical and post it on some media. I hadn't used everything that matters that I had learned in college to create anything worth considering. During my vacant period, I had only been looking for a secure job. Something to guarantee a constant income so I can live from month to month.

It doesn't mean I was wrong. Being jobless for six months could really turn your head spinning, and we, the fresh graduates, were well-informed that not having a job means being a burden for your family, your country, and your own. We knew that we could no longer burden our family; we have been funded for 12 years of school, if not 16 years in total including higher institution. But most of all, we longed for that bit of independence. For standing on our own feet, paying by ourselves for everything, being able to treat the family that has been there for us. For starting from scratch by ourselves and creating our own rules for our little world. Having a job is the first step for all that.

So, yeah, probably my dream to become a journalist is dying. Has been dying for a while now. I exchanged it with the dream of being independent. So I got what I wanted. It's just that after three months and not liking what I do, I'm sorry for not trying more things before settling. Being a critical journalist, though could be a permanent job, needs more trial-and-errors. If not from applying directly to the media, it can start with what my friend just did. 

Still, trying to look at things with positive outlook, what I'm doing can be seen as a trial-and-error. I am trying this out and so far the end results are errors, but that's okay because then I know this is not for me. Meanwhile, I can continue pursuing my other dream: to be a writer. Not doing what I like gives me enough time and will to do what I like best. That is, writing. And writing, especially writing fiction, has flexible hours. 

Okay, some of my dreams are dying (or frozen, as I prefer to think it can be relived someday), but there are certain dreams whose pursuit means sacrificing other dreams. Nothing's wrong with that as long as you are fully conscious when you make your choices and you are aware that each choice has consequences.