Wanted: An egalitarian mall with local taste

Like many other Jakartans, I'm also appalled by the mushrooming of department stores in the city and Greater Jakarta. I, too, wish for more open green space, libraries, playground, bicycle lane and pedestrian, rather than see another gigantic air conditioned box in which any activity can't be done without wasting money.

But if I have to choose one favorite shopping mall in Jakarta – the lesser than two (or in this case 53) evils -- I would choose Mal Kelapa Gading (MKG) in North Jakarta. Which Mal Kelapa Gading, you asked, 1, 2, 3..oops there's no 4, or 5? All of them!

Sure, the presence of MKG and its friends -- Sports Mall, Mall of Indonesia (MoI), Artha Gading, etc, as well as a bunch of apartment buildings -- have worsened the incidence of flood in the area. But let's discuss it another time.

First of all, I like MKG because it doesn't have an intimidating or pompous facade. The building is not high, or flashy with windows displaying luxurious branded items. The outer look is blending with the environment and the neighborhood, which is mostly houses and shophouses.

The access is also easy; there are public tranportations that can stop right in front of the entrance without being shooed by the security officer. Inside the mall, the most interesting section is the array of restaurants and food courts with a diversity of scrumptious foods. Compared that to other malls that mostly provide junk food, overpriced Indonesian food or fancy restaurants.

The stores and supermarkets are also within different ranges of price and goods, catering to middle to upper and middle to lower classes. A number of stores cannot be found in other malls, although the anchor tenants are the same old foreign brands. Another attraction is the bazaar on the halls, which sell everything from clothes to furniture, from toys to pillows, but it manages not to turn the interior into a chaos.

It's no wonder that every weekend, the mall is swarmed with visitors, not only from North Jakarta, but also from East Jakarta and Bekasi. Other malls in Kelapa Gading area are not that crowded, some are even deserted and waiting for their destinies to be shut down. The key words I think are 'egalitarian' and 'local taste'.

Say, if someone with modest or worn out clothes and footwear, or a flock of children from the lower bracket of economy, enter the likes of Pacific Place or Grand Indonesia, it would create pity look or a pinch in the stomach, or disgust. But MKG can invite without abruptly separating visitors with the 'outside world' or creating social gaps, that visitors from different economic classes will mix.

In terms of the stuff sold, the mall knows the taste of visitors in the area. Give it up, already, Indonesians love to eat Indonesian food. Each area in the capital also has distinctive taste in clothes, for example. But mall owners tend to uniform them, which can be seen from installing the same anchor tenant. In nearby Emporium Pluit, for example, SOGO department store is deserted, and similar thing happened in other malls in Kelapa Gading. (A little note, mall managements in Jakarta have been complaining about the decrease in the number of visitors. Analysts said that aside from crisis, the market is saturated already and those who shop are the same people over and over).

As with shopping mall with local taste, it is interesting to note the rise of new 'modern market'. It is simply a more modern and clean traditional market where people can buy raw (and cooked) food and other stuff (cooking utensil, glassware, etc), without having to worry about the dirty place and the smell.

The number is still very few, but it is so fun to visit the place as it revives the childhood memory of going to the market with my mom. It is also an alternative place to eat out and hang out without wasting too much money or having the feeling that we have to dress up.

There have to be more places like this instead of cold and arrogant malls, which can only create obese kids, consumtive and materialistic people, and widening gap in society that will lead to social envy.

Posted by hera at 3:20 PM | Permalinks | Comments

Getting in touch with the divinity

With a flashlight in hand and yoga mat on my shoulder, I walked by myself on a small path leading to Borobudur Temple in Magelang, Central Java. It was 5.10 a.m., and the area was still dark and eeriely quiet, which made me wonder whether it was a good idea after all to visit the temple this early in the morning.

Two security guards who checked my pass were indifferent when I asked them about the spot where people usually do yoga. "In the back," one of them said, deadpan.

I then climbed the stairs to the very top of the temple, only to find several tourists were already there, waiting to document the sunrise. It was indeed a long weekend holiday last May.

Grumbled and sweaty already, I detoured and looking for a quieter spot. After a quick check around, I found the spot one level down from the top. It was a sort of balcony on the side of the temple, facing the East and on the right of me was a small forest. Lovely. A few rounds of sun salutation later, all the doubts and worry disappeared and I was dissolved into the blissful surrounding of the temple.

An article at an inflight magazine about doing yoga at Borobudur Temple brought me there. Having been a yoga practitioner for over a year, the article somehow excited me immensely. I could already imagine how cool and exotic it was to do the ancient tradition in an equally ancient and magnificent place.

My yoga teacher, Devi Asmarani, said that doing yoga outdoor -- provided that the air is clean, the scenery is nice and there is not much distraction -- will give a different kind of feel and energy.

"You'll feel a lot more refreshed because the air has not been recirculated. You'll also feel a lot freer, because there is no walls surround you. But remember to check the weather and the situation first," she said.

Yoga is basically a discipline of going into ourselves, she added, of getting in touch with the divinity – whether it is inner divinity or outer, whether it is a metaphorical thing, or a personification entity that you believe.

"So, when you do it in a place known to be sacred or revered to have some kind of spiritual presence or history, it is inevitable that you'll pick some sort of spiritual energy or at least experience from that moment," Devi said.

Places like Borobudur are considered sacred for a reason, she added, not just because they were built massively and gloriously, but also because it is a site where people ahd gone for meditative purposes or for worshipping.

"It is a site where people basically come in a state of submission, so that alone should keep the presence of spiritual energy," Devi said.

The 9th-century Buddhist monument is still used as a place for people to seek spiritual experience, including pilgrimage. Once a year, Buddhists in the country celebrate Vesak at the magnificent complex. Overlooking the top of Mount Merapi volcano, the temple is also Indonesia's single most visited tourist attraction.

The official opening hour is 6 a.m., but you can get the Borobudur Sunrise pass from the Manohara Hotel (I know :)) located inside the temple complex. A hotel staff would show you the path to the temple, only several hundreds meter away from the hotel, and give you a a small flashlight.

Make sure to bring a thick enough and non-slippery mat, as the contour of the temple floor is uneven and the dawn dew created a layer of moisture on the mat. I did a round of Ashtanga. Standing poses were fine and smooth, but it was difficult to do ones like shoulder stand and fish pose, so I skipped them.

Doing yoga outdoor with such a natural and lush surrounding really made a difference, as Devi pointed. The air was clear and refreshing, making me fresh and energized from the start to the end. I could literally see my body heat and sweat evaporated, creating a natural sensation somehow.

In between poses, I witnessed the change of the sky from dark blue into lighter ones with splashes of yellow hue. On the right of me was lush, green forest enveloped in light fog, while on the left and behind me were splendid work of arts that have stood the test of time.

The only downside was the tourists. Perhaps it was better to come not during public holiday or weekend, or come earlier, when there are less or no tourist at all. Midway through the end of my yoga practice there, as the official opening hour arrived, a few tourists passed by and looked flummoxed by my sight. During one pose, there was a scream of a little girl who then stopped right next to me and yelled, "I wanna go home!".

It was the cue to end the practice. I folded my mat and take a meditative stroll around the temple, soaking up more energy of it and admiring the magnificent temple (of course, after finding a quiet spot to quickly change my wet tshirt).

The level of content, peace and energy that I felt afterward was incredible – hundreds of times better than the usual yoga practice back at home. Endorphin was rushing through, creating a feeling of happiness and excitement all day and throughout the weekend.

Posted by hera at 1:54 PM | Permalinks | Comments

Namaskar: A love letter to yoga

Photo courtesy of The Jakarta Post.

I lay down on the yoga mat on the floor, panting and sweating profusely. An hour earlier, I thought I would faint, or -- in my most drama queen mode – out of breath, fall flat and die, following a series of rigorous yoga poses.

The suspicion that I cannot make it through one yoga class often emerged, being a non-athletic, non-flexible, asthmatic couch potato. Fortunately, not once that the suspicion has ever been close to come true.

It has been a year since I took up yoga class regularly, which is the longest period I have ever voluntarily committed myself to a form of exercise.
I had tried yoga a couple of times about four years ago on reporting assignments, and I liked it. Mostly because it does not require running or jumping, but still you feel like you burn a lot of calories because it makes you sweat a lot. However, finding a good and affordable yoga studio that can match my schedule as reporter was not easy. So, after a while, I then became my old sedentary self.

A little over a year ago, I found out that two of my friends have given up their well-paying journalism job to be full-time yoga teachers. It was really intriguing, and not to mention the perfect timing as I had grown ridiculously out of shape and sickly. I immediately signed up for one of their classes.

It was Vinyasa, which is a more dynamic kind of yoga. I thought the flow of movements was really graceful and beautiful. That time, I was re-reminded of how stiff my body was. I have a good motoric coordination, but when I bent over, I could not even touch the tip of my toes. Regardless, I really had fun and feel so refreshed.

The next day, however, my body got really, really sore. For two days, I was also sweating buckets, which was new as I didn’t sweat easily. My friend, or my teacher, said that after being sedentary for so long, apparently, my metabolism was getting the kick it needed.
After the sore had gone, I came back to class the next week, and the week after, and got really drawn into it. It just makes me feel really fresh and energized. The teachers (Hi Devi dan Sisi ☺) are also very supportive and gentle. I was then introduced to several forms of yoga other than Vinyasa: Ashtanga, Yin Yoga and Iyengar, all of which I enjoy. But somehow I find the more dynamic flow of yoga suits me the best.

Slowly but surely, like the methodical principles of the discipline itself, I began to feel the benefits of doing yoga. First of all, I get more flexible and stronger. I can finally touch my toes; the sole of my feet can be flat on the ground while doing the downward facing dog; I can do push up (not 100 times, though), and I can fold my feet and pull myself off the floor, like a scale.

I don’t get thinner for doing yoga, as much as I want it to, but I love how it makes my body more toned. I have a better posture, no longer hunching, which started when puberty hit and I felt uncomfortable with my relatively big boobs (speaking of which, yoga amazingly can defy gravity ☺. Awesome). I feel more energized and healthy, and no longer have to deal with menstrual sickness.

But I think the most important progress is how my perception toward my body changes. I have been struggling with my weight since I was a teenager. While I’m not obese, I have always been overweight. During high school, it was especially difficult as you know how teenagers can be so mean and I was the butt of the joke daily for being fat.
Genetically, nobody in my family is thin and we tend to gain weight easily, which is something that can be fought with a lot of exercise and diet, but I just don’t have will power or vanity for it. I had been taking my body for granted by not eating well, and was in and out of exercise.

But since I do yoga, I become more aware of my whole body, even the smallest part of it, and appreciate it more. This is the first time in my life that I do exercise not merely because I want to be thin, but because I want to be fit. For the first time in my whole life, I don’t hate my body that much.

Sure, it still hurts when some friends asked, “Are you still doing yoga?” and when I said yes, they looked at me from head to toe as if saying “how come you’re not thin yet?”. But I’ve learned to shake it off. I no longer get frustrated and throws the efforts all away and goes back to overeating and being couch potato.

There was also a time when I had a really high expectation on yoga and perceived it as the panacea for everything. I later learned that you still need good nutrition and enough rest to stay well. Self-destructive behavior – skipping meal, staying out late, drinking – will cause health problem no matter how many yoga classes you attend a week. I also learned that while yoga can solve my period problem, I have to find another way to overcome mood swing.

I may still have many kilos to shed, and it will probably take five years for me to master Ashtanga series I, if at all. But hey, man, at least I can pull myself together. Literally.

Posted by hera at 7:51 PM | Permalinks | Comments

Love thy neighbor, not their kids only

Tatut and I are socially handicapped when it comes to dealing with neighbors. Well, actually in dealing with strangers in general. We're bad at small talk. We prefer to read or listening to our iPods when we travel, or at hair salon (or in family gathering, ha!). At parties, we like to observe first before having the courage to talk to other people. No wonder we needed our friends to be our matchmaker haha.

Back to dealing with neighbors, we had that job done for us all our lives. Before getting married, Tatut lived with her mother and sister in the same house since he was a kid. While I, even after moving out of my parents' house, always lived in a rented room that did not require me to get in touch with the neighbors, especially with my weird working hours as a reporter.

When we moved into our own house three years ago, we didn't really know what to do with the neighbors. But we knew we had to introduce ourselves to them. A few houses next to and across ours were still vacant, so there left the house on our right and across, on the right. Instead of knocking to the houses, however, we waited til we bumped into them to have a brief introduction.

We felt that we had to mingle with the neighbors, but we never did. In our defense, there's no good time to do it. We leave early in the morning and go back late at night, and on weekend, we just want stay home and get some rest, or go out. Many of our neighbors are going away on weekend too. So, the most social thing we do so far is saying hi and bye, smile our best, wave to the kids ("Oh, what's his name?" "Hiiii Theo! What'cha you doin?" "Hiiiii, Phoebe. Byeeee, Phoebe"), and giving collective contribution for the security once a year. During hari raya, everybody leaves for their hometown, and by the time we get back, we would dwell into the same routine that keep us from getting close to the neighbors.

Up until now, we still forget the name of our neighbors. Except for the kids, Theo and Phoebe, who live in the house to our right. We feel bad from time to time for not knowing our neighbors well, and we wish we had been better neighbor, but never do anything about it. We feel bad especially because our neighbors are so nice, friendly, never been nosy or loud or do anything annoying. They're very understanding toward this socially awkward young couple.

Yesterday afternoon, when we got back home from buying groceries, the bapak2 who live across us came over. He said he and his wife were going to have a small ceremony today to celebrate their going to Hajj pilgrimage next month, so he invited us to come around lunch time.

We were really anxious about it because Tatut had to go somewhere today and only got back late afternoon, which meant I had to go by myself. Without the other, any of us is doubly awkward. I could just not going, but we vowed to be the better neighbor when the opportunity presents itself. And now that the opportunity came, we'd better not ruin it! We planned to go there in the morning together, but then decided that I would be the sole representative of our socially-disabled household.

Then came lunch time, and anxiety heightened. I took a peek from my window and saw a lot of chairs outside of the bapak2 house, but only few people around. Took a peek 15 minutes later, and saw people start coming, and they all wore the so-called Islamic clothes. That made me even more nervous.

I then changed my clothes into loose pants and long-sleeve tunic, and waited. Watched from my window again, but didn't have the courage to go. I called Tatut up and asked whether to go or not, which of course annoyed him and told me to just go. But I bet he would be as chicken as me if it's the other way around.

I decided to wait a little longer, and watched TV. I started to feel hot in the outfit, and thinking to just go and get it over with. Suddenly, there was a loud sound from the bapak2's speaker. Wow, they had sound system and all. Apparently, they had some Koran reciting, preach, and chanting. I was glad I hadn't gone. I then decided to wait for Tatut so that we could go together. I changed into shorts.

An hour later, the speaker announced that it was time to congratulate the couple going to pilgrimage and then had lunch. I stood up quickly and changed, thinking it was the perfect time. Finally, I went there, waited in line with other people and wish the couple the best, and headed home.

I felt so relieved, like a huge burden had been lifted from my shoulder. What a loser.

Posted by hera at 6:31 PM | Permalinks | Comments

Nutrition facts

One of the things I like about our neighborhood in the suburb is that it only has one shopping mall. There are no hideous shop-houses (only cute ones) and so-called trade centers, only trendy outdoor cafes and bookstore. The whole area is still lush and green.

Visiting the mall on weekends, however, is a suicidal attempt. Aside from residents of the housing area, the mall also serves people from Tangerang and other cities nearby, or even Lampung, which is some two hours away including the ferry trip. So, on weekends, the mall will be insanely crowded.

On several occasions when I'm crazy enough to browse the mall on weekend, though, something often bothers me as I observe those mallgoers. Judging from their attire, jewelry and shopping bags, I assume that they are of the middle class people, maybe a bit lower, but definitely not poor.

Their children, however, are showing signs of poor nutrition. They're a bit skinny, their skin dry, the hair thin, lanky and redish instead of pitch black, and the eyes..dull and protruding. These kids also seem to be irritable. Many of the parents, meanwhile, look like they're gonna drop because of clogged artery or heart attack soon, judging from their huge belly.

I sometimes watch what these children eat, and it's mostly junk food, or else sweets. McDonald's is a big hit. I can guess what these kids have at home. I bet they start the day with fried rice, with abundant rice but small side dish (egg if they're lucky, or perhaps dinner leftover). If not fried rice, it would be instant noodle. Lunch and dinner would be pretty much similar: big on rice, low on vegetable or other fiber. Snack? Crackers, gorengan (fried snack), or other snacks that are high on MSG or artificial sugar.

I know for sure cause some of my relatives and old neighbors are like that. The philosophy of feeding their children is that it should be easy and make the children stuffed. I often warned my relatives about this, what it would do to the kids' brain, but to no avail.

Meanwhile, there is also the other side of parents' ignorance, which is apparent in the malls downtown, where middle upper class families come. Obese children would roam around the place, high on sugar and carbs, gobbling fried chicken and gulping soda, before taking dessert.

This thing often makes me angry. It bugs me how parents are so lazy and take their children's well being for granted. If the families are poor, I can still understand, but in this case, they're not.

Malnourished or over nutrition... man, this country leads toward a gloomier future.

Posted by hera at 1:45 PM | Permalinks | Comments

An Open Letter to Bono

Dear Bono,

I'm a fan. Not the kind of huge fans who collect all of U2 CDs and memorabilia, and know all U2 songs by heart and make it their life soundtrack. But it's safe to say that I've been a huge admirer of U2, and you, since junior high.

I thought you're the most charismatic frontman next to Robert Plant. One was among the first songs I taught myself to play on guitar back in college (still not good at playing guitar, though). I wore with pride the oversize Rattle and Hum t-shirt my sister bought me (Btw sis, I'm not that fat! Stop buying me oversize clothes!!). I became more aware of world politics thanks to U2 lyrics and the dedication you guys wrote in every album for political prisoners like Suu Kyii.

I also watched your activism with high admiration. Although I think lately you delved too much in it, instead of being what you really are first and foremost: a musician and a rock star. It's great to care for a cause or two, but as one of my journalism mentors said, you can care about any cause as a journalist, but if you're asked to cover an environmental rally, for example, you have to stay neutral instead of joining the protesters and chain yourself on the tree.

But you're Bono, of course, you're entitled to do anything. You're, like, a messiah, as Gwen Stefani said.

I no longer obsess with music the way I used to, but I still wish to see my favorite musicians perform live in concert. U2, of course, is among the top of my list.

I was then really ecstatic when my brother in law, who works for a concert promoter, told me that U2 is going to have a concert in Bali on Nov. 15. I was really thrilled, feeling that it would be the best birthday celebration ever for me. I spread the news to my close friends, who were also very ecstatic, and we began to survey plane ticket fare to Bali.

One of my friends, though, blasted the news, saying that she has lost some respect for you and U2 ever since there was the news about U2 refusing to hold a concert in Indonesia due to the human rights violation in East Timor.

According to my friend, you have become too political, making music no longer universal. "So there's a human right violation. What about the U.S.? It has a long list of human rights violation cases. There's no country in the world that's free from human rights violation. But does it stop U2 from having concerts there? Nooo," she said.

I agree with what she said. You reminded me of those developed countries leaders who refuse to give aid to poor countries for fear of the aid being embezzled, but at the end the move made poor people more miserable while corruption is still rampant. But I defended you. After all, you're Bono, you're entitled to do anything.

Until my brother in law informed me about the price of the upcoming concert ticket, which would be Rp 3 million (around US$320) and Rp 8 million. WTF?? I don't know if it's because U2's performance fee is too high or the promoter simply want to capitalize the event to the max. Still, Bono, it's so goddamn expensive.

You're pal with Jeffrey Sachs and you even wrote an introduction for Sachs' book The End of Poverty, so you're probably familiar with the fact that most Indonesians don't even earn that much in a month. Heck, millions are still living under $1 a day! Or perhaps you're too busy dealing with poverty in Africa that you're not aware that millions of Asians are poor too.

Perhaps you can take the cue from Pearl Jam who fought with Ticketmaster as the latter charged concertgoers with too high ticket price. I forgot who won the case but the bottom line is, the band cared about their fans and they made sure they have access to watch the band's performance. Cause it's indeed the fans who have brought Pearl Jam or any other band, including U2, to the present stature.

You're Bono, but this time, you can't just get away with it.

I think it's time you call U2 a day. But people say you're only as good as your last game/last deed. In that case, you need to make one last great album. Because How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb sucks. Big time.


Regards,
Hera

PS. I'm not going to the concert. I'd rather save up for Madonna's.

Posted by hera at 4:34 PM | Permalinks | Comments

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