Oh, the sentimentality

From early on, Indonesians are taught to be inferior in terms of their country's presence and significance in the global community despite the size of the archipelago. Statements implying that Bali is far more famous than Indonesia, the country's status as a poor developing country, or how 'westerners' still perceive us as primitive people who live in the jungles are readily available.

Therefore, we tend to get excited, amazed and proud of the mention of Indonesia no matter how trivial it is, as long as it's not negative. Like when Mick Jagger got married in Bali, or Missy Elliott mentioned Indonesia when she raps (although it was just an attempt to find words that rhyme), or that Michelle Branch's grandmother/grandfather is half Indonesian (remember Michelle Branch? No? Exactly).

And oh my god, what can be bigger than now, as a U.S. presidential candidate is someone who once lived in Indonesia? It's something to celebrate about, people!!!

I am excited with the U.S. presidential race, and observe it on a daily basis. It is indeed exhilarating to see someone so young and so brilliant and inspiring to emerge amid all the chaos. It is also an escapism from watching the disgusting local political scene where the same old scumbags still reign supreme.

But with all due respect, I think the excitement over Obama because of the fact that he once lived for four years in Indonesia and had an Indonesian stepfather is just too much. Or as a much more cynical friend put it :) it's like a fake orgasm.

Come on. Beyond the small connection with Indonesia, if he makes it to become president, Obama won't do much for Indonesia beyond diplomatic handshake and photo op in his former school building. This country will remain a cash cow for the U.S. like it's always been. Obama has yet to have political baggage, but will he be against corporations and their evil deeds? After all the money they gave to him during the campaign, I don't think so.

*Image is taken from Enda's blog. Sorry, nda, gak maksud. Peace! :)

Posted by hera at 4:54 PM | Permalinks | Comments

It's (not) all about money

A few months ago, a friend offered me a consultation job for a research firm in New York City. I said yes, and someone from the firm then called me up, explaining about the job.

What I had to do basically was filling in some forms, explaining a thing or two about Indonesian youth figures. It would probably take half an hour or so. The guy from the firm then said, "As for the compensation for this project, we'd be happy to offer you $250. Does that sound fair? Or do you have a higher rate?".

This might affect my rate in the future :) but fair?? Hell, yeah! :D

That was the second time I realized that the rest of the world treated a freelance writer like me better than my home country. The first time when I got an offer to write articles for this website, which pays US$20/100 words. Not bad.

Here, local media only pays around Rp 300,000-Rp 500,000 (around $30-$50) for a 600-800 words article. Only very few that are willing to pay Rp 800,000-Rp 1 million an article, or Rp 1,000/word. But some are for writing advertorials, which is not exciting.

I love writing but I feel that it's not worth the effort to write for local media. Hey, I have to pay bills too and there are several other mouths to feed (OK, I exaggerate). So, I choose to do other writing-related jobs that pay more, like editing, translating, copywriting and few absurd jobs but with good compensation :) The money is not bad at all, more than enough to live for a month and save up. The downside is when your clients pay you very late, if they pay at all :( Perhaps, I should start to think about hiring debt collector.

Recently, though, I found that I'm among the lucky ones as many other freelance writer/editor/translator out there are really underpaid. A friend, for example, only receives Rp 12,000-Rp 35,000 a page for doing translation! Oh man.
Even worse, another friend said that her friend was paid Rp 200 a page for proofreading a book. That's like, only two cents!

It's very disheartening. People are still unaware that writing/translating/editing requires talent, skill and craft, and therefore should be given proper compensation. A friend said that translating is not exactly an intellectual work. I personally prefer writing to translating but I disagree with her. It takes language flair and knowledge to be able to translate something. Doing translation has helped me improve both my English and Indonesian and I gain a thing or two about different issues.

Perhaps there should be a union or association of some sort to help improve this situation? It's not just about money. Well, it is. But for me, it's more about showing appreciation to a profession, to skill and experience.

Posted by hera at 10:37 AM | Permalinks | Comments

ASI is the Breast

Rachel : What do you mean, you'retaking over my job.
Gavin : Well, while you were on your baby vacation, I was *doing* your job.
Rachel : A vacation? My idea of a vacation does not involve something
sucking on my nipples until they are raw.
Gavin : Clearly you've never been to Sandal's Paradise Island

(Friends/"The One where Rachel Goes Back to Work")


I had never given breastfeeding much thought. I just thought that it's a natural thing to do. I knew that breast milk is the best for babies, that some women produce a lot of breast milk, but others unfortunately don't. In the latter's case, formula will come to the rescue.

When I worked with Post though, I had to cover the issue and met with this famous doctor cum breastfeeding activist. It was, I think, around 2003/4. She was pissed with the aggressive formula marketing, saying that formula is basically bad for babies due to its high level of sugar, etc etc.

She also said that breast milk production is based on demand/supply mechanism. So, basically, there is no such thing as low production of breast milk or even dried up breast milk. Low milk production, she added, has something to do with the stress level of mothers after giving birth; that there is a breastfeeding technique that woman should master to produce sufficient breast milk; that mothers should be patient, and so on.

Breastfeeding campaign has been equally aggressive ever since. The media is filled with PSAs on breastfeeding, and celebrities and socialites alike are assigned to boost the campaign.

I got a whole new perspective about breastfeeding, however, when one of my best friends, Fitri, gave birth to a baby boy a year ago. The baby was healthy but pretty small by today's standard, weighed around 2.5 kilograms. Like many other mothers, Fitri wanted to give breast milk or ASI to her baby. Unfortunately, things did not go well as planned.

First, the struggle to find the most comfortable position for breastfeeding, which included the whole "sucking on your nipples till they're raw". And then the baby blues. But most troubling of all was small milk production, on which Fitri tried really hard to improve it.

She ate all those leaves, herbs and pills that people say can increase breast milk production. Nothing happened. She went to lactation clinic run by the famous doctor. She went to get massages. Still, nothing happened. When she consulted it to the clinic, everybody there scolded her instead, saying that she was not patient enough and did not try hard enough, that she was prone to stress and so on. Other people -- relatives, colleagues, fellow mothers -- were not short of judgment either.

Fitri got really sad, especially because her baby kept on losing weight. I was shocked myself to see the poor baby was so thin. She then asked other mothers what to do as she still wanted to give the baby breast milk. They told her to wait longer cause they also had trouble at first and their babies lost weight. But around a month later, the weight quickly bounced back and went up as breast milk flow more.

But since Fitri's baby was already underweight, she felt that she couldn't wait any longer and finally gave in and turned to formula. And man, did people blasted as if she did not care about her baby.

I think the whole breastfeeding campaign has become unfair and too extreme, not to mention misleading. I believe that Fitri's case is not an exception. And I believe many women really opt for breast milk as formula is so expensive. Instead of putting the blame on women, accusing them of not loving their own babies, it should be acknowledged that some women just don't produce much milk, whatever the reason is, and there should be a good solution for them. And they shouldn't be judged for giving formula.

Some say that all mothers in the old days never use formula. That formula is just another modern day practicality, or vanity. But as far as I know, people in villages feed their babies air tajin or rice water, as a substitute for breast milk.

I'm also disturbed by the fact the women picked as the icons for breastfeeding campaign are celebrities and socialites, who of course have all the resources they need to breastfeed their babies. My sisterin law works as a teller in a state-owned bank, and she can't even get a 10-minute spare time to pump her breast milk. Every time she excused herself to do so, her supervisor would knock the door and asked her to go back to work, which really stressed her out and at the end reduced her breast milk.

I'm thinking of those factory workers who have to work 12 hours straight, and dozens of other working mothers who are struggling to breastfeed their babies even though there is no problem in terms of milk production. With the additional issue of very few daycare facility available (if any at all), I'm worried it would lead to domestication (or is it domestification?) and many women would give up their career. I hope not.

People should just give mothers some slack.

Posted by hera at 10:38 AM | Permalinks | Comments

Radhi

My nephew, Radhi (9), is probably what the New Order regime called "Manusia Pancasila Seutuhnya" (a wholesome human being). He's still a brat sometimes, with some annoying habits. But he's generally a good kid, smart, talented and never been a trouble.

Radhi kicks ass at school, has excellent grades and equally great in science and language. He's really into arts and good at them. He plays guitar, he draws, he loves to read. He helps around the house sometimes, and takes good care of his two little sisters.

He is probably the only kid at school who doesn't own play station because his parents don't want him to be addicted to it. And he never argues about it. He said he prefers other gadgets, like ipod, or music instruments, which he often nag about.

On top of that, he prays five times a day :D His only flaw perhaps is that he's not athletic :D But he bikes everyday and swims regularly.

In the past year or so, though, Radhi's been a bit rebellious and likes to challenge adults and very critical. My sister, his mom, said that she often ran out of answers to all of his queries just about anything that sometimes she just ignored him. But his rebellion is still normal so far, and sometimes funny.

Like one time when the whole family were at my sister's house. He just went to the dining table to have lunch without asking each of us, the so-called elderlies, to have lunch with him, just for courtesy.
Just when his mother was about to scold him for being rude, he shouted "Wahai orang-orang di seluruh dunia ini, mari makan! (All the people in the world, let's eat!)". We all broke into laughter.

Last week, I went to my sister's house again, and suddenly, Radhi said that his little sister Najya has a question about me, which I bet it was actually his. "Najya asked whether you're Muslim or not cause we never see you say a prayer."

I was taken aback for a second before saying jokingly, "Menurut looo? (what do you think?)".

It was tempted to give him a long speech about religious tolerance and freedom and so on but didn't. I want to respect Radhi's parents, who obviously want to raise him up as a good Muslim, so I don't want to confuse him with my values. Not yet :)

Besides, I really appreciate my sister and his husband for respecting my belief, or lack thereof. They never question me, nor tell me to pray nor anything. Even though I perhaps is not setting "a good example" for my nieces and nephews for not praying.

Later that day, when Radhi and I were alone, I asked him, "Why did you ask? It's a personal matter, you know, even though I'm your auntie. Tell you what, I'm going to tell you the answer when you're 17 years old haha."

Radhi said, "Yeah?" and he wrote down in a piece of paper "My auntie's gonna tell me whether she is Muslim or not when I'm 17."
Suddenly, he made a buzzing sound with his mouth. Bzzzzz.
"Fast forward to eight years from now. I'm 17!! So, are you Muslim or not??", he asked, laughing hard.

I laughed with him too and told him again that it's a personal matter and that every religion is equally good (or bad hehe).
I sincerely hope that he stays a good kid and god forbid he would turn into a fundamentalist.

Posted by hera at 4:31 PM | Permalinks | Comments

Living in mm..medieval world

November 2005.Three girls from Indonesia, Malaysia and Trinidad & Tobago sat down in a deli in New York City and told each other stories from back home, including the backwardness of each society.

What made the other two jaw-dropped, however, was the story from the Indonesian girl, about the common practice of parading ‘adulterers’ naked.

“Oh my god, that’s so medieval. Even we don’t do that,” said the Malaysian girl, which made me, err, the Indonesian girl half regretted telling the story.

Fast forward to today, when I found this headline in Kompas.com: CD dan Rok Pemijat di Jakarta Akan Digembok. It's about the plan to put a lock on the pants and panties of every masseuse in Jakarta.

I know!

Everybody sing! Cause we are living in me..me..medieval world.


Photo credit: Surya/Heryanto

Posted by hera at 10:02 AM | Permalinks | Comments

Random Notes (a.k.a. too lazy to blog)

1. I love this season's American Idol. Never been following it religiously until this year. The contestants are highly talented and diverse, and it's refreshing to see a lot of different songs, rather than just seminal, overplayed hits.
But everytime I hear Paula's incessant, saccharine-coated, meaningless rambling, I feel like going into TV and bitch-slap her.

2. If there's a drug to heal procrastination, I'm all for it. It's an old habit that partly cured because of daily deadline and having editors around. But these days, I'm like, super swamped with works for one or two weeks, and be couch potato the rest of the month. While I can actually spread the works instead of pushing them until the deadlines. But this bitch can't just help it.

3. My friend Lia is right. At one point, smoking is worse than drug addiction. At least drug addicts only ruin their own bodies and not spewing cocaine and make people around them sick because of passive shooting.
And I totally agree with the phrase "having smoking section inside a restaurant is like having pee section in a swimming pool." If you don't believe me, try go to Coffee Bean Plaza Senayan.

4. Indonesian people's obsession over fair skin is really sick. I have a 5 year-old niece who happens to have dark skin. Her parents vowed not to make a big deal out of it to avoid self esteem issues. But man, people just can't leave the poor girl alone -- from her own grandparents (my mother!), my in-laws, her friends, cousins..
I nearly cried when she asked her mother, my sister, "Mom, I'm ugly, aren't I? Cause I'm so dark." Next time somebody mock you because of your skin, girl, let auntie know and I'm gonna beat their asses!

5. It's a long overdue, I know, but I finally learn how to cook! I always wanted to do it to save up some money and to eat healthier food but never really have the intention to do it. Until two months ago, and I enjoy it very much so far. And I'm not bad at all! Recipes are welcome :)

6. Seriously, if we can afford it, we wouldn't have chosen to live in the suburb in the first place. Seriously.

7. SBY is such a wuss and seems to have a questionable taste in arts. If I were an artist and SBY is touched by my works, I shouldn't see it as a good sign. And for god's sake, will you stop crying already??

8. Whoever invented yoga, you're a god, man!!

Posted by hera at 1:55 PM | Permalinks | Comments

Hanoi: The grand-old dame aging gracefully

I wish I were a poet. So, I can eloquently describe the landscape, the atmosphere and the people of this city. The girls with flawless skin, high cheekbones and petite figure. The foggy lake, the crazy motorists, the French colonial buildings, the small alleys and the noodles.

And I would give the title Hanoi Blues.

But I’m not even close to a poet, so let me start by saying how I fell in love with Hanoi and I’m rethinking communism (for the second time after last year’s visit to India when I learned about Kerala).

When we arrived at grim Hanoi airport, the chilly breeze was welcoming us, along with a crowd of fake fur loving gals. Shame on me for thinking that the whole Southeast Asia has warm and damp climate all year round. Summer dress and shorts were stuck in the luggage and I had to buy socks and thick silk scarf – lovely and plenty in stores.

The architecture of the city was lovely, as the administration preserves the old buildings. My father said it was like Jakarta in the 1950s. I say it’s like Bandung’s Braga all over the city, and Menteng in some parts.

There was no skyscraper; everything we saw was grand old building. But signs of modernity and capitalism were evident, with boutiques and shops of international brands and dozens of cafés. Btw, not far from the airport, you’d bump into a seemingly upscale suburban housing with “Ciputra” name on the gate. Yes, that Ciputra.

We stayed at a nice, six-story budget hotel called Indochina (really recommended), located on the street of Au Trieu. Most of the buildings in downtown Hanoi are narrow but tall. A Vietnamese friend said it was due to the skyrocketing land price, which she said one of the most, if not the most, expensive in the world.

It was nice just to walk around the city, especially in such cold weather. Our favorite place to hang out was by the Hoan Biem lake, at this café called Hapro. The food was just okay, though the coffee was marvelous, but the ambience made the food extra delicious.

Street hawkers are plenty all over the place, where they set short tables and chairs (a.k.a. dingklik/jojodog). Vietnamese food is relatively healthier, with lots of fishes, seafood and vegetables. The coffee, I must say again and again, is incredible regardless where you have it.

If you have only two days in Hanoi, do visit Halong Bay. It’s four-hour drive away from Hanoi, but it’s really worth it. We agreed that it was the best US$30 we had ever spent as it covered the car ride back and forth, boat trip, lovely lunch on the boat, a tour to an island and a cave and kayaking. Very rejuvenating.

We spent the last day just exploring the city: Circling the lake, walking around Old Quarter (Jl. Jaksa-esque tourist spot), had some coffee, perambulating French Quarter where French colonial buildings are, had more coffee, and buy some souvenirs. Souvenirs are not really cheap (the vendors already set the price in US dollars), and boy did the sellers have high pride. Think they would chase you and give in to your price? Think again. They rarely, rarely, do that.

Anyway, as they say that pain is the precondition of great arts, it rings true in Hanoi. Even those cheap paintings on the side of the street are not soulless, and they can project longing, subtlety, loneliness...

I really want to come back. Maybe to Ho Chi Minh City too. And Hue. I still haven’t asked Vietnamese women the secret to their flawless skin.

Posted by hera at 1:15 PM | Permalinks | Comments