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....