What a Wonderful World (by Louis Armstrong)

I see trees of green, red roses too

I see them bloom for me and you

And I think to myself, what a wonderful world

I see skies of blue and clouds of white

The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night

And I think to myself, what a wonderful world

The colours of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky

Are also on the faces of people going by

I see friends shakin' hands, sayin' "How do you do?"

They're really saying "I love you"

I hear babies cryin', I watch them grow

They'll learn much more than I'll ever know

And I think to myself, what a wonderful world

Yes, I think to myself, what a wonderful world

Oh yeah

Heroes

Happy Hero Day.
Salute to all heroes.

When you hear the word "heroes" you might think about the people who died in battle for the independence of the country. Some others might assume heroes to people who live their lives for the welfare and security of others - family, society, country, even the world. There might be also an opinion that heroes are people who sacrifice themselves saving the love ones - the people, animals, plants, environment, even the earth. Heroes are such big figures.

I like to think big, having state of mind that our existence in this world is not just merely living. But, in term of heroes, I like to think small, means that in real life heroes are not always the big figures. They could be ordinary people we know or persons we never know. Last but not least, they could be us. Who knows?

I met some heroes. Not like the heroes in TV series which have special power or ability like Superman, Batman, Spiderman, Wonder Woman, Fantastic Four, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turttles, Spongebob Squarepants .... Spongebob??? Wait, I think I get carried away... uhum! Yeah, heroes like that. Or maybe in Indonesian version Saras 008, Panji Milenium, Tuyul dan Mbak Yul...what???...Oh, no, not again. Sorry, just pretend I never said those words. Okay, they are not heroes for me. No.
The heroes I am talking about are real people in my life. When I tell you, maybe you will think that their heroic actions are not big deal, or even too simple to accept, but hey, they are my heroes... So, do you mind?

My internship friends are my heroes (I had internship in Gunung Leuser National Park about a year ago). They saved me from the ground leeches several times. Yup. Eventhough I am forester, but I am afraid of leech. That's just me. The leech movement gives me a chill and shiver, that's why I tried really hard not to be bitten by them. So, when we were in the forest of Ketambe, which is the leech paradise, I got nervous breakdown...hehehehe... a bit overreacted when I saw ones. Moreover when they climbed on me. Most of the time I managed to step on them with my plastic shoes then killed them, or maybe escaped from them, but when I got cornered, I asked some of them to get rid of those vampires. "Heeeeelp!"
For two months in Ketambe I survived, not a single leech sucked my blood. But when we went to Sekundur Research Station, Aras napal, North Sumatera, the first blood sucking moment happened. I was wearing slippers to the forest, man, how could I run away? Actually, I was running away in the journey, panting and praying for my safety (when I think it through, I was really silly. Small leeches wouldn't do big harm........right? Err.... No, that won't work, I am still afraid of them. Period). Anyway, I made it to the remote research station without getting bitten. I was relieved for a while, but when we had to get back to the main post, I had to deal with them again. I was this close to the safe zone, when Dion, the huge elephant - one of the patrol elephant, got in our way. He stood in the middle of the path, blocking us, and we couldn't pass. Leech was creepy, but giant animal was not a friendly fella either when you didn't know him well. So, we waited for his trainer to take him away. Right at moment, I checked myself to make sure that no leech was in the house. Then I saw a tiny creature on my right foot, wiggled and got bigger. It's it!
"Heeeelp!" I asked my friend to remove it from my foot. I was so lucky that it was only small leech and didn't hurt as much as I thought. Maybe I just exaggerated the whole idea of that little monster. "You should overcome your fear of leech", my friends suggested. "They are not that scary and dangerous. And you are a forester, deal with them." Okay, can we talk about that later? I've got to run!

If I want to go to my office, in Manggala Wanabakti, I have to cross the railway. These railways are two lines for electric trains and both lines are used in the same time in some schedule, so you have to be aware of their coming. I often wear skirt so I have to pay attention to my step if I pass the gutter. I automatically set my eyes on my feet and I don't see ahead. It happended twice when I had passed the gutter and walked again, the train passed pretty fast, just a couple meters from where I was standing. I could have been hit if someone didn't stop me by yelling "Watch out for the train!!" The person who yelled was a lady beggar. She usually posts every Tuesday to Friday on the east side, right by the open fence which is the route for people to go to the station or get out of it. I thanked her for saving my life, twice, and promise to myself to be more careful before crossing the railway. She was a hero too.

I get difficulty crossing the street in Jakarta, coz the traffic is like racing competition. Motorcyclists tend to speed up and don't give pedestrian any time to cross. When we hold our hands up to slow them down, most of them ignore it and try to avoid. Oh, come on, man, give us some space! What, a pride of lions hunt you down?? Godzilla is attacking the town?? Take a chill pill.
I often wait for a while until the traffic is a bit spacey before crossing the street, for my own safety. And sometimes I wait too long. Then heroes come to rescue. People who dare to stop the cars and bikes so I can cross. Well, thank you.

Maybe you will laugh when I will tell you this one. He is a mysterious hero for I don't recall him at all. It was a simple thing, actually, but I never forget it.

When I joined university initiation back then, I was in Yusticia big group. I was so green and shy and a bit coward and ackward (what a combination, eh?), so I didn't respond really well with my surrounding. I tended to withdraw myself (low self-esteem syndrome??).

We had pretty big tags that we used to identify our group which had letter on them. Mine was A. We were gathered on the field in front of Ghra Sabha Pramana and the senior told us to mingle with our friends, then form a group which had complete letters of YUSTICIA. We had to move fast in a limited time and the ones who didn't make it would get punishment. When the whistle was blown, I freezed in the middle of the mist (so poetic..or pathetic?). I didn't know what happened, I was just standing like an idiot while my friends were busy making groups. That's it. I'd be doomed. I was almost giving up, until someone grapped my hand "Hey, don't stand here alone, you'll be punished. Come with me, we'll make a group." This person took me in and soon he could organized a group. We were safe by the time the whistle was heard again.

It's funny that I didn't look at him at that time, so I didn't remember him at all, and I don't remember until now.

Okay, whoever you are, thank you for helping me that time.

There are some other moments when people do something for me, directly or not, simple or not, that I consider them as heroes, because they make me believe that there is still noble value inside. There are still many good people out there, my friends.

To my parents: Heroes of all heroes. I love you and thank you very much.
To my big families: Your supports help my family to overcome some hard times, thanks so much.
To my teachers: You are heroes and if anyone doubts about it...may lightning strikes (sorry, I don't mean to curse. Peace..).
To Indonesian war heroes: May your spirits live in our hearts, new generation to take a stand for this crippled country.
To dedicated good people: Keep fighting! Ganbarimasuyoooo...!!
To my dear friends: When are we going to hang out? ..... Oops, wrong message. Heroes are not born, they are formed by many aspects. Each one of us could be one. I believe that. So, cayooooooo...!

Suffer Bender

Mom are you sure the water is sanitary? It looks questionable to me. How about bacteria? (Tantor, Tarzan)

Holding breath. That's my habbit when I pass the road to Palmerah Market. It's just something that I automatically do. It's stinky, man (as you know, my sense of smell sometimes give me a hard time. It's not that I'm Miss. Hygiene, but it just bothers me). Even when you have gone out from there, the smell seems stuck on your clothes. This road, I'd better use alley, is only about a hundred meters, connecting Palmerah railway station to Palmerah market, but you can see a certain life there. Kind of life that I never know before. A bit interesting yet unbearable for me if I have to live on that for good. No way.

Duck stand. The worst source of smell. When it rains...oh yeah, you'll meet the champion of the smell. Sooooooooo disgusting that you can wake up a vampire (Isn't blood that can wake a vampire up?). They put the cage there (You will hear quack quack even at night. Maybe those ducks are planning to escape, or having a bet who goes first to the judgement day tomorrow), they slaughter the ducks there (they hold its neck and curve it backward then just cut it with sharp knife. The blood spurts. Crot!! - sorry, I haven't found the English word for this one. It's amazing they do it calmly and efficiently. Duck lovers, you'd better not see this), they shave their feather there, they chop them there, and they sell the meat there. It means you meet the ducks, the feather, the poop, the blood, the waste right on the spot. Yeah. They clean the stand, of course, and you'll get fresh meat from the cage for sure, but those points don't grow my appetite, at all. The smell kills me, man!
One thing that makes me wonder, those people who live around it don't seem to have problem with the smell. Perhaps it's a common thing and they smell it daily, so they become numb. Or just indifferent.

Leaves traders. The little alley is one of the busiest route I've seen. The people-traffic from or to Palmerah market has no pause. During the day the alley is full with vendors who sell food, tools, stasionery, and other small stuffs. But, during the dusk till night, it is full with leaves traders. Yes, leaves. Banana leaves, cassava leaves, salam leaves, and some other leaves that I don't recognize. Some of them also sell jackfruit. It is pretty messy when they spread their goods, but it gets worse when the rain drops. Those traders just spread the leaves on the ground or on plastic mat, so when it rains the goods mixed with the mud and dirty water. The scene that still rip my heart out is seeing those people stay in the damp and dirty space. I often see the women sleep on the ground or on the leaves waste when they get very tired. Like they don't care about the surrounding or maybe they're just too overwhelmed with the life itself. Living day by day working that way, stuggling to survive in this big city where the dreams sometimes are dissapointments.

Cart men. It's a common scene seeing people dragging cart around the market and on the street. Some carts are open but some others are covered by thick sponge board (this one makes me curious. What's in it anyway?). I ever saw a group of cart men dragging them like they're heading somewhere. Some carts are for scrap business, I know from the writing on them. Some others are for loading garbage or market goods. But I also find out that the other carts are used as mobile house. I couldn't believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. It was one morning when I walked to my office on the alley next to Palmerah market alley, I saw a women preparing water on a little bucket for her baby to take a bath. Next to her, her husband looked for something in the garbage bin and in the cart where they lived, a young kid sitting there, watching. This family used the cart as their house, as their shelter, as their vehicle and as their money earning tool. In one point it's very efficient, right? But that's not for a human life. It's too sad. I cannot imagine myself in that position. I guess I am so lucky standing in this point where I have so many things to be grateful for. Some times in my life I deal with pain, short of something, dissapointment, critical moments and problems, but I still find support and encouragement to overcome all of those things.

Here is the thing. It has been my consideration for quite a time. Habbit can be formed by routine. Routine can be form by forced circumstance. In general when the people are forced or pushed to the cul de sac by some mechanism, systems, or even social limitation, they can get used to it, as the easiest escape for they can bear it. Dead is a dead end and when they're not dead yet, suffering is just another thing. It's very scary when people don't have hope and passion to live better, not only for themselves, but also for other being and non-being around them. It's even scarier when we are not aware of it, so we live without goals, without roles.

Hmm...I guess merely holding breath won't do any good, right? So....

Rhythm of the Falling Rain

These couple few weeks Jakarta is always gloomy and rainy. Almost everyday the rain showers this crowded city, creating jam, dirt, flood and mud. Hmm... I guess that's not something peculiar coz most of them are daily routine. Wait, such excuse won't take us somewhere. Numbness and indifference are certainly deadly weapons. We've got to wake up, man! I have to wake up!