Letter no [5]: Void

Dear Omi Nora,
It has been almost a month since my last letter. I have lost my energy. Wait – no, I haven’t exactly lost it, it’s still there, but it’s worn out. Something is killing my mood, but I can’t seem to know what or why or how. So this letter might cast a different light than my previous letters. Somber light, that is.

—

I haven’t written a lot these days. Not that I hate it now. I love writing, that will never change. But I need inspirations and words to write. That is where I am having my problem.
There are times when words just explode. Everything comes in big streams, like a water canon that has been let open. But there are some other times when… well, I used to not be able to put this in words, but a dear friend (who also loves to write) describes it very well: an Inspiration Void. If you check thesaurus, you would know what I mean. A stronger synonim of “blank”, void is “utterly lacking in something wanted, needed or expected”. Exactly what I am having now. I am utterly lacking of inspiration, the one thing that should be there when I need it.

[The days when] no story comes to mind. No one knocks on the doors, no singing bird, just a weird beeping noise you heard when a TV lost it signals – (Madame Shallot)

Maybe life in Indonesia has slowly become ordinary. Or it is only me? I just can’t seem to view things through different lens anymore, like I used to last month when I had just arrived. Maybe it is because I have been forcing myself too view things using different lens. Wait, I better say this: I have been wearing lens that are not mine. I have been forcing myself to write well, up to the point where I don’t recognize the words I just wrote. Usually I can see my own character, my explosion of energy. But not these days. I have produced some number of drafts, either articles for media or letters for you. But they are not mine! They are not my words, not me, they are someone else’s. I don’t know, perhaps my other self, who is boring and only seeking recognition and praises from others. The side of myself who is too conscious as to what to write and how to write it.

Sure enough, the drafts end up desperately sitting in my trash bin, waiting to be finished and sent out one day, which is unlikely to happen.

Now I know learn something: that you can’t push inspiration to come. Inspiration doesn’t come with self-consciousness, ego, and desperation for other’s recognition. We do what we do in life not because we want to be praised, but because we love to do it. But we have been accustomed too much to do things for other’s approval. Well, we need money. And to get money, our works have to meet certain standards. And the standards are not ours to decide – it is up to others. This is the part that often kills creativity.

—

Let’s talk about something else, before this letter gets too somber. I am happy to read that you have had visitors that you love. Say hi to Marlies ( and Bob) and Tessa for me. I bet they have been a delightful company. Your apartment must feel empty now that they’re gone. But I am glad that Toni Tack is coming to town! I phoned her 2 weeks ago to discuss some writing work. She has been one of my motivator to stay in shape (as a writer, I mean). I enjoy long talks with her, she always know good references (like “have you heard of this? or that?” Things that I haven’t heard before, she always puts it in light for me). She was quite ill though (stomach sickness, I take it), so I am wondering how she’s doing now. Nothing serious, I hope.

And of course, I have been home, to Surabaya. Irsyad loves being near his opa, oma, oom en tante – everyone in my family loves him. Especially that we can play with him, as he is no longer a baby. He is really a toddler now. Busy, nakal, and strong-willed.

Among his new skills and tricks:
- Walking becomes very natural for him now. He can almost run.
- He can play hide and seek,
- He will do things we told him to do, for example he will blink his eyes when we tell him to blink his eyes,
- He points at things and talk to them. He talks to my pembantu.
- He is very interested in cats. He will walk towards them, then he will go jongkok, start touching them while talking to them. Very cute. Unfortunately the cats can only stand ten seconds of Irsyad’s affection, before running for their lives as Irsyad would start hitting them or pulling their hairs.
- He loves to start conversation with people (and cats). he will approach them and shout “Eh!” and then start babbling. He is very cerewet, and I can see already that he will be a guy who talks to everyone.
- His favorite toy, for now, is phone. House phone, mobile phone, toy-phone, anything that looks like he can hold it near his ear. He would pick it up and say “hallo?” That is, officially, his first word.
- Another word that he says: “mimi”. That means drink.

Irsyad starts to show some characters. He is fun to be with, and very friendly. But he is very observant, too. When he plays by himself, he would look so serious, mumbling while observing his toys. Maybe in his mind it is not nonsense at all. I think he already has his own thoughts. I begin to wonder how he will be like when he already talks. I bet he will be the type of kid who is not afraid to ask questions to strangers!

—

By the way, our stuff have arrived from Amsterdam. I came home today to find the boxes sitting neatly at the terrace. My Oma said that they came somewhere in the afternoon. It is funny to see the boxes again, they are the representation of our life in the Netherlands. Seeing them is like hearing someone says: “here it is, the traces of your life in Holland. Your life packed in boxes.” It is a symbol that the episode of life in Holland has ended. I haven’t unpacked the boxes, will do it this weekend as we are moving to our new home. I have arranged a container truck from Surabaya that will bring a lot of meubel that my mother doesn’t use. She says we can have them, hoera! She has a lot of meubel, so I picked only some that I like and I think will go well in our new house. The truck will depart on the 27th and arrive on the 28th. On the 1st of June, Arief’s family will come from Semarang to help us unpack and arrange our new house. They will stay for around a week, then my mother will come to help us too. Coming weeks will be very hectic, but we will have so much help this time.

Although this is the hundreth time already that we have to pack and move and unpack, and I feel tired at times thinking how many times we have moved already, but this is just the way it is. Our life is about constantly moving forward. I am glad for it, though, cause I am a type of person who needs a constant change. Sometimes, when I take too long to stop and stay in a comfortable place, it will create a big inspiration void in my head. Exactly what is happening now.

—

Well, that’s it for this letter. The episode about my “void” period. I am feeling a big empty shell inside my brain, wanting to be filled with ideas. Well, at least this morning I was so determined. I started the day at 2.30 AM, washed, prayed, and made a big cup of chocomelk. Then I wrote this, and finished the letter by 3.50. Not so bad.

Will be back with another letter (hopefully sooner than you think),

Love,

Neysa

—

Afternote: …And as I typed this letter, Taylor Dayne’s Send Me A Lover plays in the background from my grandfather’s radio. Ha! Talk about somber and desperate mood…

Letter no. [4] “All in a Good Time”.

Dear Omi Nora,

“The only way to fight corruption is not to take part in it”. Oh Nora, I remember those words. Yes those were his exact words, and I was there too when he said that – thanks for reminding me about it in your reply. I totally agreed and support that statement. But now it already happened. Arief has got his driving license in Semarang without doing a proper exam, by tipping the police officer. I knew and didn’t try to stop him. We have taken our part in the circle of corruption. We have bought a driver’s license.

You know what, the other day when I walk along the street I got so mad when I see people dispose their trash not in the trash bins. I thought: I have made my effort to keep my trash in my bag while I walk and walk and walk until I find a trash bin. I feel annoyed by this: If I can make this effort, why don’t these careless people do the same?

Then after thinking through your reply, it crossed my mind: maybe, it is just the same with the driver’s license story. I was just trying to find an excuse to not make any effort at all. Because I was looking at what other people do. If other people don’t do it, why should I? I kept my trash all along trying to find a trash bin, but deep in my heart I wanted so badly to just throw it away like what others do. Well, the street is already dirty to begin with. Just I disposing my own trash in a trash bin won’t make any difference, right?

The same goes with the story about tipping police officer for driving license. We were making the excuse by pointing out that other people do it too.

I thought I’d blame people who are so permissive towards corrupt behavior. Well, what do I know; we have become part of them. We have become permissive too. We thought we didn’t have any choice. But we did, Nora. We could’ve gone through the right procedure… Who knows, Arief might just pass the exam, proving that he is legally entitled to get a driver’s license.

—

I realize there is nothing new from me. I am just what we can expect from an Indonesian who returns home after years of living abroad. At first they would swear that they will maintain the discipline and the moral values they learned abroad. But after only a short while, niks. Nothing.

Just over 2 weeks ago I was still in the first phase of adjustment, where memory of Europe is still fresh and raw. I am still so much in love with life in Europe. My mind still tingles every time I recall the clean trams and buses. Therefore I swear to keep the buses and other public facilities here clean, too, by not disposing my trash anywhere I like. And then I feel proud that I just recently got back, so I proclaim that the custom that I learn in Holland is still in me.

Reading my first three letters, I am so looking at this first phase. The impressions I wrote were mainly negative. Oh, dirty streets. Oh, horrible pavement for pedestrians. Oh, macet and smog everywhere. I then swore that I would keep on doing what I do in Holland, despite the negative impressions. That is because I am still so overwhelmed with my life in Europe that has just recently ended.

A writer named Natalie Goldberg wrote in her book (a very good book btw, Writing Down The Bones, that a friend gave me shortly before I left Amsterdam): “It is hard to write about being in love in the midst of a mad love affair. We have no perspective. All we can say is, “I’m madly in love”, over and over again. [Same goes when we] write about a city we just moved to, it’s not yet in our body.”

I understood that was my problem. I wrote while I had no perspective. All I can say is “everything in Europe is better” over and over again.

So, what now? I forgot that life in Indonesia does not stop there. I totally had forgotten about the second phase, the “getting back to the old self, slowly” phase!

Still from Natalie Goldberg’s book. She compares our mind with… organic garbage. Organic garbage like rotten tea leaves and spoiled fruits, at first can’t be re-used. But if you are patient, and give it some time, organic trashes will go through decomposition process in its own time, to eventually turn itself into fertile soil that can be useful for the environment. Same like our minds, they collect all of our experience, she wrote. But it doesn’t stop there. Give our minds time to process memories, turning them into “fertile soil” too, that enrich our personality. You must be patient before experience and memories turn into something meaningful and useful for our life, because our mind needs time to comprehend all these things.

A very interesting and philosophical metaphor! It is what happening to me now. My mind is still collecting the heaps of experience. But the process has just begun. There are things I can’t comprehend yet, things that my ego still resists. I can’t comprehend Jakarta yet, because I still need time. That is why my first impressions are mostly negative.

I realize that is how I should view my new life here and now.  Adjusting to life in Indonesia should not be a goal, but a process. I should be able to go through this process carefully. I still need time to process everything through, little by little. I just hope that writing helps to remind me that there should be no rush, nor anxiety.

It is never useful if I use my writing to blame anyone, or to compare anything, or to judge what is better. I have so much to learn still. For now, I just let writing be my tool, enabling me to go back in time and reflect. A tool I can use so my mind can process how to live in Indonesia, all in a good time. All in a good time.

Til my next letter,

Love,

Neysa

Letter no. [3]: “Whose turn is it?”

Dearest Omi,

I can’t believe it has only been ten days since we left Holland. It seems like ages ago, maybe because in ten days so much has happened. We have crossed things in our to-do list in a timely manner, quick quick quick. Yes, no more jam karet, hoera!

 

So, we’ve got job and house. This week we have also made a bank account. What else have we got? Driver’s license of course.

 

Arief has obtained his driver’s license already – two! One for driving the motorcycle (we call it here ‘SIM C’’) and one for driving the car (‘SIM A’). SIM is an abbreviation from Surat Ijin Mengemudi (Surat = letter,, but in this context it means = proof; Ijin = permit/ license; Mengemudi = driving). Actually he had had SIM A before (which was expired in 2006 I think), so this time he only needs to extend it. Different story for SIM C, he had never obtained it before (eventhough he can ride motorcycle). So he had to do exam for this one.

 

But he passed the exam, it was easy. Or better said: it was made easy. If you know what I mean.

 

So he went to Semarang Tuesday morning, and on Wednesday night he came home to Jakarta already with both rijbewijs in hand. The whole business was taken care of in only less than 48 hours. No 40-hours driving lessons, no need to register and wait for theory exam, no need to re-take theory exam, no hassles with practical exams. Money talks, of course. Very shameful, but he wants to do it this way, cause he needs to have them quickly. He’s been motorcycling across Jakarta for days, zonder rijbewijs! He needs to be mobile already; he’s got places to go every day. Can’t ride taxi every time – will cost considerably more money.

 

I guess you want to know how it was made easy. I am ashamed to even recall what Arief told me, but heck, I’ll tell you just for the fun of it. In a way, things like these makes life in Indonesia so unique.

 

Whose turn is it?

So this is roughly how it worked: when he came to the police office in Semarang he had to first report himself at the security gate, like everyone else. In this gate there is a checkpoint post with few policemen, perhaps 5-6. If you want to do it the right way, you just say to them “I want to obtain rijbewijs this or that,” then they will tell you which direction to go, to get into the right division. If you want to cheat, you say “I want to obtain rijbewijs… without the exam.” Then these policemen will decide among them, whose turn is it to “handle” this order. Yeah, of course they are taking turns – everyone wants to get their share of money. And don’t ask me how, but apparently everyone in Semarang is familiar with this “procedure”.

And so these gentlemen decided two out of them to take care of Arief. The three went to a corner and discuss the “procedure”.

 

“The whole thing will cost 700.000 rupiahs,” one policeman said to Arief. “380.000 rupiahs for rijbewijs A and 320.000 rupiah for rijbewijs C. Then you may add extra money; that’s just for us. How much you want to give is up to you, sir.” After Arief agreed, they proceed.

 

The funny thing is, “without exam” doesn’t actually mean “no exam”. You still need to do the exam, but it is guaranteed that you’ll pass. First, Arief went to theory exam. After he did it, he filled a form with his identity, and went out of the room along with other applicants. There will be a man collecting the forms, and he will separate crowd into two groups:  the “regular” ones and the “special” ones, who pay extra.  That day, Arief was the only “special” one. The regular group had to wait for their result, to see if they pass or need to retake the exam. If they pass theory exam, they can go on to practical exam.

 

While Arief, of course he went straight to do the practical exam. After he’s done with it, the two policemen who took care of him already waited inside a police car, parked nearby the exam area. In that car the “transaction” happens. The policemen would then explain what happens next: that Arief has to come back the next day for medical check, get his photograph and signature taken, and pick up his rijbewijs. That’s it and their part is done. Let me have my money, OK bye, nice doing business with you.

 

Zorgvuldig

I know what you think about it: how different it is here than In Holland, right? In Holland Arief failed the theory exam few times. They really are handling the process seriously, because obviously they can’t just allow anyone to drive. (This is not to say that Arief is not competent to drive… or maybe? Hahaha!) They really maintain the road in Holland as a safe place.

 

While here, anyone can just roam around in the road. Even people who don’t have rijbewijs dare to drive. Few months ago in Jakarta a horrible accident happened: a car crashed into bushalte near a traffic light and killed 9 people (7 of them died instantly on the spot, 2 died later in the hospital). Turns out that the driver of the car (a woman, round my age) do not have a rijbewijs. I am sure there are more accidents caused by people with no rijbewijs. Heck, even more accidents are caused by people with rijbewijs. I did hit a motorcycle once (and then run!) even with rijbewijs in my possession. It proves that, somehow, rijbewijs are given out without a lot of thoughts. Very different in Holland, where they do everything carefully. Zorgvuldig. There is always a clear procedure, and everyone makes sure they do their part to maintain these procedures. It certainly doesn’t make life any easier, but it ensures safety and fair play for everyone. Moreover people there are afraid of punishment, because it is certain that they will get punishment. While here, if you have money, you can easily get away…

 

I don’t mean to praise Holland too much, as life over there ain’t perfect either… but I certainly miss living in Holland, in this case.

 

—

Meanwhile, Arief has unofficially started his job. He starts to come to the office everyday (since Thursday) eventhough the contract specifies that he would start per May 1^st. He only stays for half a day though, just to get his hands early on some projects, and to get familiar with his colleagues and the work pace. I think it is very good idea, that he gives himself plenty of time to adapt. His werkkamer is ready, he only needs to bring his own laptop (voorlopig, cause eventually his office will provide a laptop). So far he likes it, as he gets to know his colleagues. And although he is in a supervisor-level this time, he says he don’t want people to treat him like a “boss”.

 

Oh, and of course the office also has a pembantu! Office boy, they call it here. Every office in Indonesia has one. Sometimes in the mid-morning and late-afternoon they will knock on Arief’s door and ask him if he would like some tea, coffee, or snacks. When lunchtime approaches they will come and ask what he would like to have for lunch. No boring Boterham-lunch like the Dutch offices, of course! Arief feels funny with this new routine; he’s just not used to having someone attend to him, after all these years in Holland.

 

So that’s my story for this third installment. Gosh, what a long letter. But I am beginning to enjoy this routine. Sitting and typing every 3-4 days, pouring out my stories to you.

 

Til my next letter,

 

Love,

 

Neysa.

Segelas Susu Soda

Prenote: awas, metafora yang menjebak!

Hidup ini seperti segelas susu soda. Semakin diaduk semakin berbusa-busa. Lebih berbusa lebih nikmat. Karena busa adalah… halah.

Udah, gak usah menyimak metafora saya sampai mencureng gitu dong. Ini lho cuma metafora tanpa juntrungan. Gak ada maksudnya kok. Saya cuma tertarik dengan kesukaan orang memadukan tema tulisan dengan minuman. Kopi, misalnya, yang paling favorit. Secangkir kopi. Inspirasi kopi. Filosofi kopi. Seperti kemarin waktu sempat ke Gramedia, saya menemukan beberapa buku yang mengusung judul kopi. Salah satunya yang ada di deretan Buku Terbaru: Secangkir kopi – kisah inspiratif kehidupan (kalau ga salah). Banyak juga blogger yang memberi judul blognya dengan nama minuman, seperti Secangkir Teh Susu-nya Zizy Damanik dan Kohilover-nya Kuntari.

Saya pikir, tidak ada yang salah dengan ini. Mungkin trend ini berawal dari Filosofi Kopi-nya Dee? Saya juga tidak tahu. Anyway, saya kira ini adalah manifestasi sang penulis. Untuk sedikit memberi kesan tentang siapa dirinya. Dan minuman kesukaan, adalah bagian dari identitas seseorang.

Seseorang yang suka ngopi, misalnya. Pasti identik dengan seseorang yang “pemikir”, apapun jenis kopi yang disukainya.

“Cafe Latte” / “Cappuccino”

Kalau ada orang yang menyebut dirinya cafe latte atau cappuccino, misalnya. Kita akan membayangkan seseorang yang duduk di sudut gerai kopi dengan iPad-nya, sedang mengetik pemikirannya, tentu ditemani secangkir kopi mahal khas kafe tersebut. Mau tidak mau kita asosiasikan si orang pemikir ini dengan komunitas kelas menengah ke atas, yang berpendidikan sarjana lah minimal.

“Kopi hitam kental”

Kalau yang ini yang disebut, pasti pikiran kita melayang ke warung kopi sederhana di pinggiran kota. Yang humble dan merakyat. Orang yang tersebut, mungkin juga berpendidikan tetapi lebih “bebas” dan “liar” dalam gaya hidupnya, pecinta alam misalnya. Dengan rambut gondrong dan baju awut-awutan, serta tas ransel yang buluk yang sudah melalui bermacam petualangan bersama empunya.

—

Mungkin masih banyak lagi jenis-jenis minuman yang digunakan sebagai label kepribadian seseorang diluar sana. Nah, kenapa paling sering kita dengar kopi? Mungkin karena minuman ini begitu mewabah semenjak merebaknya gerai-gerai kopi. Sehingga, kaum pemikir dan penulis pun sering nongkrong di gerai kopi untuk berkontemplasi. J.K. Rowling misalnya, dalam biografinya disebutkan bahwa ia menamatkan draft buku Harry Potter di kedai kopi.

Saya pikir, ini tidak salah. Memang minuman adalah masalah selera. Dan selera, tentu tergantung kepribadian.

Yang saya masalahkan, adalah ketika “selera” menjadi trend. Dengan sendirinya, kepribadian orang tergantung pada apa yang lagi trend dong. Maka dari situ, muncullah kaum pretensius. Gaya hidup pretensius, tepatnya. Orang yang ngopi karena yang lainnya ngopi. Orang yang membaca buku tertentu, karena yang lainnya membaca buku itu. Orang yang menulis, karena yang lainnya menulis.

Nah, dear Nez readers. Moga-moga kita tidak menjadi orang yang seperti itu ya. Sekedar mencoba, boleh. Karena siapa tahu anda menyukainya. Tapi kalau tidak suka, ya jangan dipaksakan. Saya pernah mengenal seseorang yang menolak saat saya ajak minum cappuccino di gerai kopi terkenal. Dia mengatakan dengan jujur, bahwa dia lebih menyukai minum kopi panas kental di warung. Sebuah remark yang jujur, genuine, dan tidak pretensius. Saya terkesan.

Saya lihat publik juga memiliki pemikiran yang sama, terkesan dengan sesuatu yang tidak pretensius. Setiap ada public figure yang berpendidikan namun terlihat humble, publik tertarik. Sewaktu membaca obituari pak Wid – wakil menteri ESDM – di Kompas, saya juga melihat kesan ini. Sang wartawan mengangkat penampilan dan gaya pak Wid yang dikenal humble. Gondrong, pakai tas selempang, makan di warung murah-murahan. Lain waktu saya membaca tweet seorang kawan, Rini, tentang Ladya Cheryl (bintang film AADC) yang suka sepeda motoran dan ngebis.

Yah, publik tertarik dengan public figure yang tidak bergaya hidup seperti kaum jetset (mungkin publik terlanjur menangkap kesan bahwa public figure = bergaya hidup jet set?) Saya cuma berharap, ini tidak dijadikan senjata untuk mencuri hati publik aja. Semoga, mereka yang memang suka bergaya hidup sederhana seperti ini, memang genuine dan nyaman melakukannya.

—

Nah, begitulah kira-kira. O ya, mungkin sampai akhir tulisan ini anda bertanya-tanya, kenapa segelas susu soda? Jawabannya mudah: karena pas lagi nulis ini saya minum susu soda, wkwkwkwkwk. Alasan yang dangkal sih, tapi at least, saya sedang tidak mencoba pretensius

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pic from: ngerumpi.com