One Starry Night

Remember when you are fifteen-ish? Remember highschool, and boys, and falling in love? Remember being pregnant? No? Good for you. Well, imagine for a second being pregnant at fifteen. Imagine breaking the news to your parents, your dad rising from his chair, his knuckles white resisting to hit something, probably the boy who knocked you up. The stare from your mom and the tear on the corner of her eyes brimming with disappointment. And then they ask the only logical question: who is he? You say the truth: you don't know.

Your boyfriend is next in line. You know this now for a fact, it's not him. When he sits next to you, you lose all expectations because it will be smart of him to leave you. You have been preparing yourself all night for the worst, repeating the self talk to reassure that if you really love him, you will let him know, and you will let him go. And everything is still going to be alright. As you look at his eyes you can see the worry and the confusion, waiting for you to say something. He takes your hand and stroke the back of it over and over, then he says that he will love you always. With that, you broke down.

Morning sickness is not pretty. One day you woke up feeling nauseated and all that, and you reached down to scratch that itch on your toes. And that's when it hits you. You can't even SEE your toes anymore. It seems like you thought everything looks normal, but now that you become concious, you realize that your butt is reeaaally big. You wonder if it will go back to normal size. Jo, your boyfriend that is, laughs as you complain about looking like a cow. "You will always be beautiful," he says. You know he means well, but you somehow can't help feeling annoyed. You turn to him and put on your best annoyed face, "I want to drink young coconut water today." He smiles understandingly, "You got it, Mary baby."

Luckily, Jo is a lot older that you are, so he's able to provide although things can be pretty tight. Your parents, being so disappointed as they are, won't admit you anymore. The shame you have brought to the family makes Jo and you move out of the city. It's a miracle that somehow the two of you make it day by day. You still remember the night you told Jo. You said to him, "Call me crazy, but don't call me a liar. I have not been fooling around. I've conceived the baby through the Holy Spirit and there was an angel who came to me to tell me all these. And, Jo, I understand if you don't..." He cut you off, " I know... the angel come to me in a dream. Mary, I will be crazy with you." Suddenly, a huge burden was lifted off your shoulder and you repeated what you initially said to the angel in your head like a powerful mantra: Your will be done to me, Your will be done to me, Your will be done to me. Also, you silently hope that the angel won't come and freak you out again in the future.

For me it's difficult to imagine that the characters in the bible are just people like you and I. The only difference is that they were here on Earth 2000 years ago. Let's not go that far, the national heros I read as a child in Indonesia history books, for example, it's hard to assimilate they were alive, doing all those heroic things 70 years ago. I understand that the Bible has to be concise, it's not a novel, not even an autobiography. And history books are full of facts. The elimination of a lot of the human nature in these stories sometimes mislead me to think that they do not feel as how I am feeling. It is like they always know the right things to do and they will do it without any fear. You know, like when Abraham was told to sacrifice Isaac, he did it in faith. There's not much details on how he felt or how many sleepless nights he had before saying yes, or if he and Sara his wife had a huge fight over it. In the bible, it sounds like he immediately and trustingly did it, which I doubt happened.

Once I went to a discussion and there was an exercise of reading a passage and imagining what the story is like for you. It was the nativity story, right when Jesus was born, with the sheperds being told to go and see him, and the three wise men following the star. We closed our eyes and started to imagine it. There was one person reading question prompts to help us do the imagination. The questions were something like: how was the weather, was is cold or warm? how was the ground, sandy, grassy, dirty, many stones? what did the stable look like, what was the smell inside? place yourself as one of the characters in the story, who would you be? how did you react to the occasion? how did Jesus look like? did you talk to anybody? what were people conversing about? how handsome were the three wise men? Well OK, I added the last question, but hey it's valid!

It's a little unusual to imagine yourself in the scene like that, but suddenly, what you have believed from story books or nativity sets, just had to vanish. The place must be really really dirty and smelly, it's a stable for God's sake. Mary must look horrible after giving birth. The wise men must be super tired after the long journey. And Jesus could be one cranky baby. They probably stayed there the whole night taking turns to try to get him to sleep, using all the ancient methods they might know. And imagine, they were all guys, except Mary. That must be one heck of a scene.

OK, I probably went too far with the imagination. But, you get the point. These people are as real as yourself, flesh, blood, feelings and all. I am pretty sure all of them had doubts at one point, questioning God and His ways. I just never met anybody who never questions God in one way or another or never fear about what the future may hold. And it's important to acknowledge that we are exactly as human as them, and these stories can very well be our life stories, too. Just because many of them are saints, doesn't mean they were angels. They just made the right and faithful choice, through their own internal struggles and the journey to find love and wisdom. And we can be that 15 year old girl, who are being asked to do an impossible thing, and although there are many unknowns and the fears can be unbearable, it would be even more unbearable to say no.

I bet Mary did not know that she would change the world, she just gave her one small faithful yes at a time. Same as what is expected of us.

Happy early Christmas!!!

On Travelling Solo

To say that I'm enjoying these three months is an understatement. Before I went, I knew that I would be travelling quite a bit. On my first day of work, I found that there was no other interns in my building. Then I knew that I would be travelling alone. With my lousy friend-making skills and my often lagging adaptation period, it was doomed to happen. I had actually predicted a little of this and had searched articles on female solo travellers and the various topics on Europe backpacking trips. But not until I jumped in the experience that I knew the joys and miseries of flying solo.

First of all let me address the issue of being alone. In this interconnected world where networking becomes the golden ticket to success and teamwork is the overarching theme in interview questions, I feel like doing things by yourself is very much frowned upon. My first solo trip was a day trip to Gruyere, about 2 hours away from Geneva. Some people immediately asked, you went alone? And muttered a comment, how weird. On my last trip to Rome, one of my colleagues asked, do you have any friends there, to which I said no. She said I was brave but my sensitive self caught her expression saying, "why would you go only by yourself." In a way, for me, it is mainly the reactions from other people that cause my heart to have doubts. Damn, I am weird and I don't have friends. But, putting all those aside, there are also the internal voices reminding me of the discomforts of having no companion. Those are the ones I worry about; myself hindering myself, because no one else can help me on that.

I was once discussing all this stuff about being alone in general with a friend who was a single guy. He said that for him weekends were the hardest, because you felt like doing something but everyone else were out on a date. Going with them was like being a nuisance but staying at home felt like a total loser. So, I gave the mindless suggestion of being carefree and just go out by yourself. The next week in all his excitement, he came back saying that he took a shot at watching a movie in a cinema alone, amidst the dating couples. I seriously had a laugh fit at him. I couldn't believe that he actually did it! But I was oh so very proud of him, knowing that I myself may never gather my skin thick enough to do that. It's funny isn't how we almost always need somebody else to be able to feel comfortable with ourselves. This, however, is exactly the kind of challenge faced in a solo travel. Will you be carefree enough to enjoy being with yourself while others seem to have a good time being in comfortable cliques? Laughing away, chattering, supporting each other's existance in multi-way conversations?

So let's start with the hard stuff. For me, the main down time activity is having a meal. This is when conciousness comes from all corners of the mind, congressing in a summit, discussing what things should be done while eating alone. Do you eat and stare at your food or just stare at the wall while having an internal discussion with inner self within your brain? What do you do while waiting for the food to come out? In this awkward situation, I usually go over the pictures in my camera and read a book. Never mind the fellow visitors looking at you with pity in their eyes wondering if your boyfriend stood you up, you won't see them ever again in your life. And if the waiter gives you a hard time, slash and burn the tip. And if there is a newly wed on their honeymoon sitting right next to you, dining while holding each other's hands, do yourself a favor and look the other way.

Safety is the next important issue to address. Being a five feet tall girl, it is obviously pertinent that I stay away from anything that smells like trouble. Some things can be carried as a protective weapon, like pepper spray, that proves to be effective against the Occupy protesters, or a Swiss Army knife. An umbrella can be a useful weapon too as a distraction or a visible power shield. Or you can poke it around haphazardly like a panic en guard athlete hoping that somehow it will strike a vital point of the attacker. But, seriously, take care of yourself and avoid anything that might be causing you a lot of headache. Remember that you are not at home, things can get real complicated real fast.

Now that damaging self-consciousness and safety have been dealt with, we can talk about the fun stuff. For me the most liberating part is I am able to construct my itinerary perfectly just as my liking. If let's say I am going to Paris, no matter what you say, I will not enter Louvre. No, not with that snaking queue just to see the Monalisa painting that everybody said to be a lot smaller than what is imagined. I am not an artsy person. It's hard for me to understand paintings and see the beauty in them. What I want to do is be touristy and take pictures of the outside of Louvre, and move on to the next attraction. With only myself to consider, I am able to do this. After the perfect itinerary has been set, I am free to break any single thing on the schedule, because there is no such thing as a perfect itinerary. When in Rome, after walking the whole day on Saturday and coming home late, I decided that I wanted to sleep in on Sunday morning. Yes, knowing consciously that I was in Rome and I probably never go back again ever (no, I did not toss a coin in Trevi fountain). Now, if I am traveling with my parents, for example, I will never be allowed to do that.

I also have to say that traveling alone has heightened my level of awareness. Being the last child in the family, I tend to surrender my fate to anybody older than me (or just anybody). I tend to be the follower. But in solo travel, I am responsible for everything from knowing exactly where the hotel is to making sure I understand what I see. Awareness in this case is very much related to self reflections and formations of opinions. The time not spent talking to the travel partners, I spend it on people watching. In Rome, I was thinking a lot about how the city is one huge tourists magnet and how people swarmed into these churches, but when it was time to use them as what they are, the eucharistic mass, the crowd disappeared. You know, things like that that would probably escape my mind had I not travel alone. People watching is a great mind exercise.

Just with anything that is unorthodox to you, at first solo travel seems to be scary. However, it feels great to give your fears a shock once in a while by saying, "to hell with you, I'm doing this!" There is still one more solo trip to Barcelona and of course I am so looking forward. By this time, traveling alone does not feel so weird anymore and I've thicken some more skin to not be so shy when eating by myself. Been there, done that.

But after all things weighed in, I've decided that long term solo travels are actually not for me. Weekend trips are fine, and it has certainly been a great experience. After this "Geneva phase" I am open to doing it again for maybe traveling around Indo or Southeast Asia if there is an opportunity. But I am also looking forward to fun group trips where togetherness becomes a priority over the places visited and the new things discovered. As long as we're together right? That's all that matters.

But for now, let me be self-absorbed and give myself a pat on the back for trying something new and trampling over a fear.

What are we to do in this world but to search for a view?

Sabda Alam

I was in the bus yesterday and had the most random thought. Seriously could not tell myself why it popped up but the song title "Sabda Alam" was suddenly in my mind. The funny thing was that I could not place who was the singer and how the song went. I guess that's what people have been saying about the fact that you don't forget things, but they are just dusting in the deepest nook of your mind to be rediscover some time later.

Anyways a little googling and youtubing brought me to know that the song was written by Ismail Marzuki, sung by Chrisye. I don't really like the Chrisye version, I've never been a fan of him to tell the truth. But, I'm satisfied the rendition by Afghan :)

The lyrics is fantastic. We don't have anything like that anymore. I wish I can write like that. I wonder now what other songs did Ismail Marzuki write....

Kicau Burung Bernyanyi
Tanda Buana Membuka Hari
Dan Embunpun Memudar
Menyongsong Fajar

Sejenak Kuterlena
Akan Kehidupan Yang Fana
Nikmat Alam Semesta
Nusa Indah Nirmala

Reff;
Serasa Pagi Tersenyum Mesra
Bertiup Bayu Membangkit Sukma
Adakah Esok Kau Senyum Jua
Memberi Hangatnya Sejuta Rasa

Sabda Alam
Menghanyutkan Suasanaku
Kadangkala Kebosanan
Mencekam Jiwa…
Sabda Alam
Berbuat Kodrat Tak Tertahan
Rasa Nista, Rasa CintaBerpadu Satu…

Do They Know It's Christmas

I've heard of this song but never really realize how sad the lyrics actually is. I guess it's because the tune is pretty cheerful and all. My prayers are for the broken hearted, the lonely, the hungry, and the hopeless this season.

"The joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the people of our time, especially those who are poor or afflicted, are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anguish of the followers of Christ as well." - Vatican 2 in Church of the Modern World.

Song Lyrics:

It's Christmas time
There's no need to be afraid
At Christmas time
We let in light and we banish shade
And in our world of plenty
We can spread a smile of joy
Throw your arms around the world
At Christmas time

But say a prayer
Pray for the other ones
At Christmas time it's hard
But when you're having fun
There's a world outside your window
And it's a world of dread and fear
Where the only water flowing
Is the bitter sting of tears
And the Christmas bells that ring there
Are the clanging chimes of doom
Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you

And there won't be snow in Africa
This Christmas time
The greatest gift they'll get this year is life
Where nothing ever grows
No rain nor rivers flow
Do they know it's Christmas time at all?

(Here's to you) raise a glass for everyone
(Here's to them) underneath that burning sun
Do they know it's Christmas time at all?

Feed the world
Feed the world
Feed the world
Let them know it's Christmas time again
Feed the world
Let them know it's Christmas time again

Cold and Brokenhearted

The snow finally comes, covering the bottom of my heart

Lost, like the postcards

Week after week

In the hands of a lonely postman

Remembering his first love

While I'm losing mine

Joy is the season

Love is the cliche

The cold keeps me under my throw

Wishing that the season isn't such a joyful one

Because my love has become a cliche

Amongst the merriment

Just like the snowflakes

As unique as each of them is

Just as beautiful and pure

Still, falling becomes a sole purpose

And disappearing becomes a destiny

In all gracefulness, questioning

What then is the meaning of grace?

And you

Should know that I've been talking to a lonely postman

Because the bottom of his heart

And the bottom of mine

Have been covered in snow

We both know that it will disappear

As it has destined to be

But for now, let it be