THE CURIOUS CASE OF TILE WARD-HOUSE GALS

[11/30] THE CURIOUS CASE OF TILE WARD-HOUSE GALS

The first mysterious bouquet of flowers was found in front of this girls' flat door at one morning on last winter. It came with a note of a simple greeting and phone numbers. Those were ignored until the next bouquet appeared on the window the day after. That could be a gesture of admiration or could be not. Five cute girls were living in that flat, nothing was outlandish about the act of fondness. Thing started being creepy when more flowers kept coming. Most of them were placed outside the window facing directly to the street. One bouquet in the morning, disappeared during noon, replaced with another bouquet in the evening. In the other day, nothing until midday, one of those five girls came home to find that there was no flower, half an hour later when another girl out for work, there was another bouquet sitting there!

They never touch any of those flowers. Some weird sounds heard and occasional suspicious shadows through the windows were making things even scarier. One of those girls happened to make an eyes contact with the suspected doer. At the point they considered that mysterious (possibly) guy we called the Uwak Blumen (the flower man) as an act of terror, they reported the event to the landlord. A police report made, there was nothing the police could do as long as there was no physical contact. Fortunately, Uwak Blumen seemed to know what kind of trouble might he had if he continued the act. After the report filed, there were no flower bucket, note, noise over the window, or the leery of shadow. The case officially closed for the girls. Sometimes it still comes up in the middle of our kitchen conversation.

I know that flat since it was still empty with only one tenant living there. Then more people coming, we are happened to come from the same nationality (at least till some times ago). I would say that I am more than just an occasional visitor and the girls living there, they also never see me as a guest, with all the proper meaning. I know where to get a glass to drink my water or where to take some tea if I want to. I'm sure that I know how many plates do they have and where to find some herbs and spice to make my dish tasty. I witnessed much dramas happened in the house, the good times, the not so good times. I considered it as my second home. Home as in where I can just come and do my nap at any bed in there. Home as a place where I can always enjoy my home country dishes. Home as a warm tiny area in the middle of Berlin jungle which never fail to provide me some familiar faces, some eager ears, or just merely a warm hug. That's why, one of my invented wise words to survive Berlin is: when in doubt, take U9 to Hanzaplatz or any S to Tiergarten or bus 106 till Seestrasse, and ring a house at Tile-Wardenberg-Strasse, I would be fine.

* * *

Buket bunga misterius pertama ditemukan di depan pintu apartemen yang dihuni berlima, semuanya wanita, pada suatu pagi musim dingin yang lalu. Bunga tersbeut hadirnya bersama dengan selembar kertas dengan kalimat sapaan dan sebaris nomor telepon di atasnya. Bunga tersebut tidak begitu digubris hingga muncul buket kedua keesokan harinya. Bisa jadi bunga tersebut adalah bentuk kekaguman atau ada yang menaruh hati terhadap salah satu dari kelimanya, namun bisa juga tidak. Dengan situasi lima gadis manis tinggal di hunian yang sama, terasa sangat lumrah jika pada suatu ketika ada yang suka. Hal-hal mulai menakutkan ketika semakin banyak bunga yang berdatangan. Sebagian besarnya diletakkan di sisi luar jendela salah satu kamar yang menghadap langsung ke jalanan. Satu buket di pagi hari, menghilang kala siang, terganti dengan buket lainnya pada sore menjelang malam. Di hari yang lain, tidak ada hal aneh dari pagi hingga tengah hari, salah satu penghuni pulang ke rumah tanpa mendapati bunga apa pun, setengah jam kemudianpenghuni lain keluar rumah untuk bekerja, dan lagi-lagi bunga itu ada!

Mereka memutuskan untuk tidak menyentuh bunga-bunga yang berdatangan. Selain bunga, suara-suara aneh dekat jendela dan bayangan yang kerap muncul tiba-tiba menambah cekam suasana. Salah satu penghuni bahkan sempat beradu mata dengan kemungkinan pelaku yang kami sebut sebagai Uwak Blumen (Blumen=bunga). Kasus ini mulai terhitung sebagai teror hingga diputuskan untuk melaporkannya kepada landlord (bisa disebut sebagai bapak kost). Oleh bapak kost, diproses lah laporan ke kantor polisi walaupun polisi tidak dapat melakukan tindakan apa pun kecuali ada kontak yang sifatnya fisik. Manjur, Uwak Blumen tidak melakukan aksi lanjutan, mungkin menyadari apa yang bisa terjadi jika persisten meneror penghuni apartemen. Situasi kembali aman terkendali, sesekali kami masih membicarakan insiden Uwak Blumen sembari bercakap di dapur menikmati roti.

Tentang flat ini, aku mengenalnya sejak isinya masih satu penghuni saja. Lebih banyak yang datang, semuanya anak Indonesia (setidaknya hingga beberapa saat yang lalu). Aku dengan percaya diri akan mengaku bahwa aku bukan sekadar tamu, pun para penghuni juga tidak merasa begitu, dalam artian yang amelioratif (sesungguhnya aku pengunjung yang datang untuk makan). Dalam hal ini, aku tahu di mana dapat menemukan gelas untuk minum atau kotak teh mana yang boleh aku jarah. Aku yakin aku tahu berapa banyak piring dan mangkuk yang ada di rumah tersebut sebagaimana aku tahu di mana lemari tempat menyimpan segala bumbu dapur jika aku memasak sesuatu. Aku menyaksikan begiru banyak drama, masa-masa indah, pun juga masa yang suram. Aku anggap flat ini adalah rumah kedua. Rumah yang di mana aku bisa datang kemudian tidur siang di salah satu kamar. Rumah yang identik dengan bau masakan khas Indonesia. Rumah yang dalam bentuk blok kecil dari belantara Berlin di mana dapat ditemukan wajah-wajah familiar, telinga yang mendengar, atau sekadar pelukan hangat. Oleh karenanya, salah satu kata-kata mutiara yang aku pegang di sini adalah: jikalau meragu, pergilah dengan U9 ke Hanzaplatz atau S-bahn mana saja menuju Tiergarten atau bus nomor 106 sampai Seestrasse, pencet bel di salah satu rumah di jalan Tile Wardenberg, niscaya aku akan baik saja.

Sekian.

A.

📷 In frame: two of those five Tile-Ward gals

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HOW MUCH WOULD YOU LIKE TO PAY FOR A HAPPINESS?

To open this one I would like to say: being persistent is not easy.

[10/30] HOW MUCH WOULD YOU LIKE TO PAY FOR A HAPPINESS?

In recent days, I barely stay home. Never flash in my mind before that Berlin summer could be so harsh, even for me who is coming from a tropical island. Some days earlier, staying at the library the whole day was still convenient to do. Up until last two weeks perhaps. Then my mind form getting more unstable, my inner feeling becoming more inert, following the shortening list of (enjoyable) things to do here. At a glance, that list would look like: 1)unplanned early wake up each morning, 2)first contemplation of the day, 3)try-to-be-busy ritual at the kitchen, 4)second contemplation while cooking something, 5)riding the bus number 100 or 200 (because ringbahn would be so warm since 10 in the morning), 6)get lost while riding my bike in semi-dehydrated state, 7)napping under the tree at the side park of Schloss Charlottenburg, and 8)stepping on and off from one supermarket to another. For the last one, yes, I visit those supermarkets more frequently as they are so chiiiiiillll.....

Yesterday, I went to Edeka, the one supermarket close to where I live. That was kinda last minute shopping just because I forgot to buy Ovomaltine (yeah, my fav choco spread) even though I spent a lot of time to cool down myself at REWE and DM. While queuing at the cashier, there was only three customers left: a girl with a cropped top, an old lady with her walking stick, and me. Right in that order. Turned out, the cashier already closed the bookkeeping for the day made the three of us could only pay in exact change or with the card. So unfortunate for the girl with a cropped top, she didn't bring any cash but a 20 Euro bill and some coins. She had to let go of some of the stuff she meant to buy which are a bunch of scallions and a pack of tomatoes. I was thinking if she is one of the students living in the same student wohnung with me and was planning to offer to pay that for her. But before I could jump into the act, the junior helper slash part timer employee standing behind the cashier guy pulled out some coins from his trousers' pocket, counted, and handed some of those coins to the cashier guy. He then grabbed the scallion and tomatoes, put them in front of the girl with a cropped blouse and said, "es wird besser sein, wenn du damit kochst" or at least that was how I heard it. "That will taste better with them."

I promise you that this wouldn't be a speech about money or guidance on how to be an angel in real life. However, this guy did very well with his one euro 30 cents; he made people happy. One, of course, the girl with a cropped top. Two, me for witnessing the scene. Three, the cashier guy. Four, himself. I don't know how about the old lady with her walking stick and another employee who was doing some cleaning, but after all, those were enough happiness to wrap the day.

* * *

Persisten itu susah, cuy! Hahaha..

Beberapa hari belakangan, diam di kamar apartemen yang beralih menjadi sauna adalah tantangan yang berat. Bahkan bagi orang yang selalu mengaku sebagai anak pantai macam aku ini, musim panas ini sungguh keterlaluan. Sebelumnya, main seharian di perpus masih amat sangat menyenangkan. Setidaknya hingga dua minggu sebelum ini. Sampai pada mulai terjadi alterasi bentuk pikir yang kentara labilnya, segala indera yang semakin tidak responsif, mengikuti daftar kegiatan menyenangkan yang sama seperti malam di musim ini, semakin lama semakin pendek saja. Daftar tersebut kurang lebih: 1. Bangun kepagian, walaupun setengah mati ingin bangun lebih siang, 2. kontemplasi pertama, 3. sok-sok sibuk di dapur, 4. kontemplasi lagi sambil tetap sok sibuk di dapur, 5. Muter-muter naik bus nomor 100 atau 200 (karena muter naik kereta sudah tidak senyaman dulu lagi, pengap), 6. tersasar sambil naik sepeda sampai gosong, 7. tidur siang di bawah pohon depan Schloss Charlottenburg (ini museum bagus), dan 8. keluar masuk supermarket demi terkena tiupan pendingin ruangan.

Nah, kemarin kebetulan aku belanja di salah satu supermarket dekat tempat tinggalku, namanya Edeka. Sudah hampir tutup, aku adalah salah satu pembeli terakhir (demi Ovomaltine). Saat mengantre di kasir, tersisa tiga pelanggan saja, berturut-turut: seorang gadis berpakaian cropped top, seorang wanita tua dengan tongkat, dan aku. Ternyata, si mas kasir sudah menutup program pembukuan harian di komputernya sehingga box uang tidak bisa dibuka lagi (mungkin ia sangat ingin cepat pulang, aku bisa mnegerti). Maka pilihan kami hanyalah membayar dengan uang pas atau dengan kartu. Naasnya si gadis berpakaian cropped top ternyata tidak membawa pecahan uang pas, pun tidak menggunakan kartu. Hampir terjadi ia merelakan seikat daun bawang dan satu pak tomat untuk tidak jadi dibeli. Aku berniat membayarkan dua benda tersebut sambil mengingat-ingat mungkin kami tinggal di kompleks apartemen mahasiswa yang sama. Akan tetapi, sebelum aku sempat merealisasikan pikiranku, asisten kasir yang juga pekerja paruh waktu mengeluarkan beberapa koin dari saku celananya, menghitungnya, kemudian menyerahkannya kepada si mas kasir. Diambilnya kembali daun bawang dan tomat yang sempat dipinggirkan, ditaruhnya di hadapan gadis berpakaian cropped top sambil berkata, "Akan lebih enak kalau dimasak dengan ini." (dalam bahasa Jerman).

Ini bukan ceramah tentang keuangan atau pun panduan menjadi malaikat hidup. Hanya saja, lelaki tersebut menggunakan satu euro tiga puluh sennya dengan sangat baik; ia menciptakan kebahagiaan. Satu, bagi gadis berpakaian cropped top tentunya. Dua, bagiku yang menyaksikan adegan tersebut. Tiga, bagi mas kasir yang sempat kebingungan. Empat, bagi dirinya sendiri. Aku tidak yakin bagaimana dengan wanita tua dengan tongkat berjalannya atau salah satu pegawai lain yang tengah membersihkan rak. Bagaimana pun, pada akhirnya, ada lebih dari cukup kebahagiaan di penghujung hari.

Peace, love, berkeringat tengah malam (tapi bukan TB)

A.

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WHEN GEOGRAPHY FAILS ME

I really want to come up with some stories of my current days. I want to write down some beneficial information related to what am I studying, or some chunks of my utopia future plans. However, this brain doesn't follow what I want. Lately, I seem to be sticking around to some past events and flashbacks.

[9/30] WHEN GEOGRAPHY FAILS ME

I know since the beginning that I am no good at depicting and imagining any physical existence in geographical wise. My geospatial intelligence is way down to the ground level. During my life, the only time I cried for study related stuff was on geography subject at my 5th grade. I was studying for such an exemplary student competition thingy the day after when my mom pushed me to remember all the regencies and their capital city in Bali. There were only 9 regencies (and still are) but my brain rejected to keep that information, plus my mom really is a horrible teacher (I am glad that she is actually a midwife), and I cried. Yes, I cried hard and stopped learning anything that day. On the test day, thankfully, none of that geographical stuff appeared among the question. At the same time, I thought that I was crying for nothing. Another milestone on how dumb I am in this geography thing, junior high school, I felt that I was mostly doing well until... I failed Geography. I got a 3.5 out of 10 marks for the test, the lowest point among everyone in my class. I was...surprised...amazed, haha. That was embarrassing of course, but I was aware that I showed such a funny face when the teacher hands me my paper with smiling figure 3 on it.

Not much change about that during high school. My love actually lay at the borderline of natural science and social science. If it were not because I was so annoyed with my incapability in understanding geo, I would be so tempted in taking the social class. I used to say that I grew up failing geography. Many of my weakness also related with that: I struggle a lot in map reading (not just because Allan and Barbara Pease told us so through their book), I'm no use in sensing north-south, and I can't save many countries based or geopolitical information in my head.)

Lately, I try to stop defending my self about my lack and come up with an idea. Maybe I was not failing Geography. Perhaps Geography is the one who fails me, and it's okay. Nobody is good at everything. I may be lame at finding a place, but I could be excellent at tree climbing for example. And..thanks to Google Maps and compass apps for supporting this potential fallacy.

Much love,

A.

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THE WINDOW SCENERY

[8/30] THE WINDOW SCENERY

I am a night owl, everybody who knows me knows that. I am also in between medium and light sleeper, means I don't do that 8 hours long of the night sleep. The beauty of those two combined is my morning situation must be one of this: either it would be a good-mood-and-ready-to-rock morning or a-just-kill-me-dead-face one. There is nothing in between.

When I was still living most of the time at my parents’ house, I moved between three bedrooms. The first in the middle was the room I used together with my sister when both of us were below 12, and it has a couple of wood framed windows facing to the south with the view of our middle yard. Then, I was getting older, the house got renovated, I switched the room with my granny. The second room was with higher windows on the west side. Nothing much too see from there, only the small aisle separating the main building of our house with our ‘merajan’ (the household temple for prayer). The third room, was the one at the east wing of the house, actually was my brother's but since I was mostly staying at the next city, I preferred to sleep there when I went home. Its windows have a stunning morning scenery because those allowed the morning sun rays entering the room from the east and if I opened the curtain, right outside there are mango and mangosteen trees. Yes, the morning view from the window matters to me. That's why living in the boarding room at Denpasar for years (since 2008) during university life was a little bit frustrating. Not only the tinny space full of my overwhelming stuff but also that there was no proper window with a pretty scene in my dreams.

My current room at this student house is quite acceptable when it comes to the window scenery department. One hefty window, facing south (a little bit south-west, I think), and as a standard German window which I find fancy, it may widely open on its sides, or it can be slide fort and back to sustain the air circulation. Since I have been a renter of this room for an exact one year (yeah, time flies: I am older, my friends are married, and Pokemon Go has released so many new features), this window scenery has never disappointed me. There are a couple of big trees right outside my window, and they were pretty colorful during autumn last year. Then on some winter days, I could spend hours watching the white on heavy snowy days. The best of the best was the quickie spring a few months ago, I had my very own cherry blossoms attraction (figuratively, at least it felt like that). Summer maybe not the best season to describe, it's super warm lately, and the window position is inviting the heat to come through in and trap it like forever. Additionally, there is ongoing construction work around the house that doesn't really help with the temperature. However, if there's this chance to open the window to see those pretty sweating workers abs every single day, for free,... I think I can bear this free sauna.

It's summer, be happy!

***

Bagi mereka yang telah lama mengenalku, mesti tahu bahwa aku tipe orang yang produktif di malam hari. Aku suka tidur (siapa yang tidak?) tapi aku bukan tukang tidur. Setidaknya bukan tukang tidur malam yang perlu durasi tidur malam delapan jam ke atas. Dua hal tersebut jika dikombinasikan adalah definisi dari situasi pagiku yang entah: bersemangat-segar-ceria-dan-siap-melawan-dunia atau mode-zombie-bunuh-saja-aku. Tidak pernah di antaranya.

Di rumah orang tua, ada setidaknya tiga kamar yang pernah aku kuasai. Yang pertama adalah kamar ruang tengah yang dulunya aku tempati berdua dengan Mbok Tu, kakakku, sampai salah satu dari kami berumur 12 (yang pastinya adalah Mbok Tu). Kamar pertama ini punya dua jendela berbingkai kayu yang pemandangan luarnya adalah sebagain halaman belakang rumah kami. Seiring dengan aku yang bertumbuh, rumah kami sempat direnovasi, dan aku bertukar kamar dengan Mbah, nenekku. Jendela di kamar ini agak jauh lebih tinggi dan tidak banyak yang bisa dilihat selain jalan kecil yang membatasi bangunan rumah dengan merajan kami. Kamar ketiga adalah kamar di sayap timur yang sebenarnya adalah kamar adikku yang sering aku invasi tiap kali pulang. Kamar ini memiliki jendela yang menghadap ke timur, menjadikan pemandangan pagi terbaik yang mungkin ditawarkan sebuah jendela. Juga jika tirainya dibuka, salam hangat dari lambaian daun pohon mangga dan manggis di luar sana. Ya, pemandangan dari jendela adalah penting bagiku. Karenanya, tinggal di rumah kost di Denpasar sejak 2008 sampai lulus kuliah, sampai kemudian bekerja lumayan membuatku frustrasi. Selain kamar sempit yang aku isi paksa dengan barang yang seabrek, juga tidak ada jendela dengan pemandangan yang aku idamkan.

Aku cukup beruntung karena kamar apartementku saat ini sangat bisa diterima dalam hal pemandangan jendela. Hanya satu jendela besar di sisi selatan agak ke barat daya. Layaknya jendela standar Jerman lainnya (yang masih sering membuatku tercengang), jendela ini juga punya beberapa fitur buka: bisa dibuka lebar dari salah satu sisinya, bisa dibuka kecil di sisi atas, dan bisa juga digeser-geser kiri-kanannya. Satu tahun di sini (cepat yah: waktu berlari, teman menikah, Pokemon Go sudah banyak fitur barunya) pemandangan dari jendela ini belum pernah mengecewakanku. Ada dua pohon besar di luar kamarku yang berwarna-warni indah pada bulan-bulan pertama aku pindah musim gugur tahun lalu. Saat musim dingin, walaupun tak sesering itu, menonton salju yang berjatuhan sembari menyelipkan kaki dekat pemanas ruangan adalah hal terbaik yang bisa dilakukan lewat jendela ini. Yang terbaik lainnya adalah atraksi pohon sakura a.k.a cherry blossom yang serasa milik pribadi di musim semi nan singkat kemarin. Sekarang musim panas, pemandangan jendela tidak semenyenangkan itu, posisi jendela ini sangat mengundang hawa panas masuk ke dalam dan memerangkapnya hingga malam. Ditambah lagi, pekerjaan konstruksi yang berlangsung di sekitar rumah tidak membantu sama sekali dalam hal menurunkan temperatur. Bagaimanapun, aku melihat sisi baiknya, jika ada kesempatan membuka lebar jendela dan disambut perut-perut rata berkeringat milik abang-abang pekerja, saban hari tanpa dipungut biaya...aku akan mencoba bertahan dengan sauna gratis ini.

Selamat menikmati panas,

Selalu ceria ^^

A.

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THE HATS STORY

[7/30] THE HATS STORY

1996, on one fine sunny Sunday. Our family before my brother: Bapak, Ibu, my sister Mbok Tu, and little me. We were joining the regular company outing of the bank at where my dad used to work. That day, we went to see the greens at Eka Karya Botanical Garden. It's still inside the island, it even belongs to the same regency as our house but my child sense back then felt that place so far away. That means...EXCITING! Yes, we barely did such family outing, but no, we did not lack in recreational stuff. The things that I could remember, our family excursion was not typical: it could be playing with our cows while my parents harvesting the cacao fruit, could be fishing at the river right at the bottom of the hill behind our house, or could be playing around the pounds while waiting for my mom afternoon shift to be over. We merely seldom traveling for long distance.

Back to that fine Sunday, 1996. One pearl of visiting that botanical garden is that it's commonly tandem with Beratan Lake, located only less than 10 minutes by car to the north. That day, we took the chance to explore the lake by motorboat, I was so excited. As I said, the sunshine was beautifully overwhelming made the day as a perfect day for a picnic but also an excellent day to get sunburn. We were not well prepared, so my dad had to run to the nearest stall and bought us, my sister and I, two hats. Nothing was wrong with that but the fact that my sister got a pretty rounded hat in cheerful colors while I was getting a not-so-ugly-but-not-pretty-sun-hat-with-neck-cover in a combination of abstract blue-white-black colors. I questioned my dad with repetitive why; why sister got that princess hat?; why I should wear the boy hat that I don't think any boy would be happy wearing that?; why couldn't we get a pair of pretty hats? I am almost sure that I cried a little at that time (we had a group picture, with the caps, and I wasn't looked delighted).

My dad, he never really answer the 'why' questions. I'm not so sure if we still keeping the hats or not, maybe somewhere at my parent's house. Up till today, the hat story is still occasionally come up at any family gathering (but it brings me no hurt feeling but laughter). Perhaps the only thing doesn't change at all, as well as the reasons behind the hats, is how tight dad's love always hug us.

* * *

Tahun 1996, satu hari minggu yang indah. Keluarga kami sebelum kami memiliki adik yang paling bontot: Bapak, Ibu, Mbok Tu, and si kecil aku. Hari itu kami ikut serta dalam acara tamasya perusahaan oleh bank swasta tempat bapak bekerja kala itu. Acaranya adalah acara kumpul ceria di sekitar area Kebun Raya Eka Karya, Bedugul. Masih di Bali, bahkan masih di kabupaten yang sama, namun pikiran kanak-kanakku kala itu meyakini bahwa Bedugul itu jauhnya menyaingi jarak inter galaksi (hiperbolis, ding!) Intinya, aku bersemangat luar biasa. Tamasya dan sejenisnya bukan bagian dari rutinitas keluarga kami. Jika pun iya, maka wujudnya sangatlah berbeda: mulai dari main bersama sapi sementara bapak ibu panen buah kakao (bukannya membantu malah main), memancing di kali di bawah semacam bukit yang bisa dicapai dengan menggelinding dari belakang rumah kami, atau bermain di sekitar kolam ikan (yang mungkin sekarang sudah tidak ada) sembari menunggu waktu pergantian jaga sore ibu. Ya, kami hanya jarang bepergian jauh untuk urusan rekreasi. Sekalinya iya, wajarlah jika semangatku luar biasa.

Kembali ke hari minggu yang indah, 1996. Ke Kebun Raya Eka Karya tidaklah lengkap jika tidak mampir ke Danau Beratan dan….naik perahu bermotor keliling danau. Karena hari itu sangat terik, demi tidak terpanggang gosong, bapak pun membelikan masing-masing satu buah topi untuk aku dan mbok tu. Tidak ada yang salah, kecuali bahwa Mbok Tu mendapat topi bundar yang warnanya cantik sementara untukku adalah topi semacam topi baseball yang ada pelindung lehernya dengan corak abstrak biru-putih-hitam. Kalau kata anak millennial, seperti luka tapi tak berdarah. Kenapa Mbok Tu topinya bagus dan centil? Kenapa topiku malah topi untuk anak laki-laki yang aku yakin bahkan tidak ada anak laki-laki yang tertarik memakainya? Kenapa tidak dibelikan topi kembaran saja? Dan seterusnya. Bahkan di foto pun wajahku terekam gundah gulana (mungkin bisa juga lapar).

Bapak tidak pernah menjelaskan dengan lugas perihal topi. Aku sendiri tidak yakin jika kami masih memiliki topi tersebut. Sampai kini, cerita tentang topi kadang masih sering menjadi pengisi sesi cerita lucu di acara keluarga kami. Mungkin salah satu hal yang tidak kunjung berubah, sama halnya dengan alasan di balik topi dari bapak, adalah bagaimana sayangnya bapak selalu memeluk erat kami semua.

Love,

A.

Foto hanya ilustrasi semata, diambil saat tahun kemarin mengunjungi Gili Trawangan

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THE MUSIC ON THE EARS OF A TONE-DEAF

[6/30] THE MUSIC ON THE EARS OF A TONE-DEAF

Until about some years ago, I was a music enthusiast who watched MTV, checked the billboard hits on a weekly basis, and following music site as PitchFork. I was listening to hot released hits a lot, humming like crazy on the street, and put some singer picture as my desktop wallpaper. There was the time when I let music defines me. Sad music drags me sad, cheerful song bounces me high. I still remember, how music worked like fragrance on me. Some particular song connected with some people or some occasion. It is pretty much like an old saying; music hurts, music heals. (Almost sure that I just made that up). The thing is, I actually am a tone-deaf.

On our third year of junior high school, we had that music subject in our curriculum. One of the final tests for the subject was to sing one particular song in the group in choir style. So we formed a group of three and decide who would go soprano, who would take mezzo-soprano, and who was alto (or in the case of male: tenor, baritone, and bass). I considered my self a middle person, so mezzo-soprano might be my part, that's what I think back then. Turned out, I couldn't really follow the pitch no matter in which voice I assigned to. I felt terrible for my group mates for later we got average mark which I believe was my fault. I'm glad that no one kicks my butt for that. But anyway, that was the first time I realized that maybe music is not my thing.

I was that wicked person, who keeps singing (everywhere and every time) even though I know for sure that I barely have any control over my pitch. Before leaving Bali last year, my friend and I frequently go to karaoke places, where I pretended to have a high tone as Sia and sounds pretty like Lady Gaga. In fact, I was sure that we were about blowing each other eardrums by listening to us singing. Lucky this city citizen that I can't really afford to spend my money at those karaoke places.

This afternoon, I was taking a long ride on the bus with my headphones sticking to my ears and realize that I no longer hear the music to define anything happened in my life. I shifted the place with that stuff I was listening to. I define them to be heard. The annoying concept, I would say. I checked my Spotify playlists just now, finding Arctic Monkey on the top, following by Dexys Midnight Runner, The Lumineers, The Smiths, Fourtwnty, Stars and Rabbit...long list to go and how much I am into folk and beautiful indie music.

Well, my relationship with music may slightly change, but my ability in perceiving it doesn't really change for a decade. Me, singing while showering is still an enormous problem in this house.

Love,
A.

Picture was taken during the stadtfest last week.

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CONGRATS, PAL!

[5/30] CONGRATS, PAL!

I have this one fabulous friend whom I've known since medical school. We were not got along since the beginning because we belonged to the different class. During the clerkship, on our fourth year, we've been on the same rotation for neurology or anesthesia department. Ah no, I think she was doing the anesthesia part, and I was on surgery department (can't really recall, ugh). That was the time she introduced me to her mom... in the operating room. Yes, her mom was undergoing the surgical procedure to install a chemo port.

That was an hour before lunchtime if I didn't misremember it. I was doing a morning shift at the central operating installation and was in charge for pediatric digestive operation, operating room number 11, after a long night awake for a series cases at emergency unit. She approached me saying that her mom was there and she would like to introduce me to her. We then sneaked to the operating theater in where her mom was laying down, just done with the procedure. She, her mom, looked pale and tired but also proud and happy, such a really mixed combination of expression. I pulled my disposable mask down, said my name and waved happily to her. I knew that she might be under the spell of propofol or other anesthetic drugs so I would understand if she didn't really notice me clearly. However, I did. I did see how much she resembles my friend who stood less than one meter beside me. They're looked alike. There was nothing else occupied my mind, not about how did she feel nor about damn cancer which trying to knock her.

I wasn't really sure about what did I feel back then. It's not a usual way to get to know my friend's parents that way. The thing I know for sure is, if we didn't do that way, we wouldn't be as close as we are today, by heart.

It's not supposed to be sad. It’s always fun while I’m around this friend since she knows very well that one major reason why am I in Berlin right now is that I choose Europe over Australia :p. I just saw this friend pictures yesterday, she just officially graduated as a master of public health. It's a saying from a proud friend who happened to recalled those old scenes in mind. I'm nobody to say this, but even your late mom is smiling right now for sure.

* * *

Pernah punya teman yang luar biasa? Aku banyak. Teman yang ini adalah salah satunya. Kami saling mengenal sejak zaman perkulihan dan aku sudah tahu dari dulu kalau teman tidak biasa. Masa pre-klinik, kami tidak begitu dekat karena kebetulan kami berbeda kelas. Namun kami sempat rotasi di departemen yang sama beberapa kali selama koas. Salah satunya mungkin kami bertemu saat kami sama-sama di neurologi atau anastesi. Atau bisa jadi saat itu aku di bedah dan ia di anastesi (ingatanku sangat payah). Pada salah satu masa itulah ia sempat memperkenalkan aku pada mendiang mamanya yang saat itu kebetulan menjalani operasi. Perkenalan kami berlangsung dingkat, di salah satu kamar operasi.

Kalau tidak salah hari itu sekitar satu jam sebelum waktu istirahat makan siang. Aku sedang stase di instalasi bedah sentral (IBS), bertugas di ruang operasi nomor 11 untuk operasi digestif (pencernaan) anak-anak, setelah malam panjang jaga UGD sehari sebelumnya. Kami bertemu di lorong IBS, dan teman ini berkata bahwa ia ingin memperkenalkan ibunya padaku. Maka kami setengah mengendap-endap masuk ke ruang operasi di mana mamanya terbaring setelah rampung dengan prosedur yang harus dijalani. Tante, demikian aku memanggilnya, terlihat pucat dan lelah, sekaligus senang dan bangga. Sungguh kombinasi yang tidak begitu sering aku temui, namun aku yakin tahu alasannya. Aku menarik ke bawah masker sekali pakai yang aku kenakan, menyebutkan namaku sembari melambaikan tangan dengan riang. Aku maklum bahwa tante mungkin ada di bwah pengaruh propofol atau obat anastetik lainnya sehingga mungkin tidak akan merekognisi keberadaanku dengan jelas waktu itu (selain juga aku mengenakan seragam IBS hijau muda bukan telur asin yang kedodoran yang senada dengan tembok IBS). Ya, mungkin tante tidak seawas itu tentang aku. Sebaliknya aku bisa melihat jelas, tante dan teman ini mirip. Dan jika aku bilang mirip, maka maksudku adalah mirip sekali dalam hal karakter dan ekspresi wajah. Tidak ada hal lain yang bisa aku pikirkan saat itu, tidak tentang bagaimana seesungguhnya perasaan tante, tidak juga tentang sakit yang berusaha melemahkannya.

Aku juga tidak yakin mengenai apa yang aku rasa. Bukan hal yang biasa bagiku, seorang teman mengenalkan orang tuanya di situasi seperti itu. Yang aku yakin pasti, jika kami tidak melalui adegan tersebut, mungkin aku dan teman ini tidak akan menjadi sedekat kami saat ini.

Ini bukan cerita sedih lho ya… Main bersama teman satu ini selalu menyenangkan, terutama karena ia sangat mengerti bahwa keberadaanku di Berlin adalah semata-mata karena aku memilih Eropa daripada Aussie :P. Aku baru melihat foto-foto bahagia teman ini merayakan rampungnya studi master yang ia tempuh selama dua tahun ke belakang. Ini adalah ekspresi kebanggaan seorang teman yang sering menyimpan detail-detail tua di kepala. Tentu aku bukanlah siapa-siapa, tapi aku memberanikan diri untuk dengan yakin berkata, tante pastinya akan selalu tersenyum bangga dari mana pun beliau berada.

Love,

A.

Ps. Picture was taken randomly at East Side Gallery. The kids were looking happy :)

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How Special Are You?

[4/30] How Special Are You?

There was a scene on a 1979 movie Monty Phyton's Life of Brian that really did something to my mind after a friend reminded me of it yesterday. In that scene, Brian who was wrongly presumed for being a Messiah gave a one minute (or less) speech on how everyone supposes to discover their own way and stop following him.

Then I had this conversation with this friend.

Me: Did you imply that I could be that person who said: "not me"?

Friend: No. I was saying that not everyone is special. But you are of course.

Me: How come? I think everyone is unique their own way.

Friend: No, not everyone.

I do believe that as long as I keep doing my best living my life, I am an exceptional living creature. Means, I hold at least one reason to be significant. Intriguing? Yes. Complicated? No. I must be special in my parents' eyes but means nothing for a stranger on the train. I could be someone for the Turkish fruit seller close to my apartment that he often gives me some extra peach. At the same time, I am nothing to any random Rewe cashier guy. And the list keeps going...I did really want to argue furthermore regarding that matters because as this far this friend has never failed in surprising me with his hilarious way of thinking. Besides, this special-not special topic, as exciting as the proposition about privilege and equity. I have to wait, he is having an important physics exam soon so I would have to left him alone for a while.

If you have a not very usual taste of humor as this friend and me, I suggest you check this movie out. Either my laughter threshold is way too low or what, I was deadly laughing through the whole film.

* * *

Ada satu adegan yang membekas di kepalaku dari film Monty Phyton Life of Brian (1979). Kebetulan bersama seorang teman aku sempat membahas mengenai potongan film ini. Ini adalah adegan di mana Brian, si tokoh utama (ya jelas judulnya saja hidup si brian, ya kali tokoh utamanya si Biggus Dickus). Si Brian tiba-tiba punya banyak pengikut yang menyebalkan karena mereka salah menyangka Brian sebagai Messiah. Agar mereka berhenti mengikutinya, berkothbahlah Brian tentang bagaimana seharusnya kita tidak asal mengikuti orang lain karena pada dasarnya setiap dari kita adalah berbeda, istimewa.

Entah bagaimana aku dan teman ini malah berseberangan pendapat mengenai seberapa istimewa kita sebenarnya. Sementara menurutku setiap orang adalah unik dan istimewa, si teman malah menolak premis tersebut. Kadang-kadang aku merasa terganggu akan perbedaan yang reme temeh seperti ini, apalagi jika aku sangat yakin akan kevalidan pendapatku. Katakanlah bagi orang tuaku aku adalah istimewa (takut bertanya langsung, takut dijawab “enggak tuh” 😆), sementara tidak ada keistimewaan sama sekali bagi orang-orang asing di kereta. Aku bisa jadi pelanggan istimewa bagi penjual buah Turki dekat apartment, jika tidak, mungkin aku tidak akan sesering itu mendapat ekstra buah gratis. Di saat yang sama, aku cuma pembeli biasa bagi mas-mas kasir Indomaret (walaupun mereka rajin menawari pulsa). Dan seterusnya…dan seterusnya… Aku ingin sekali memperpanjang diskusi dengan temanku ini, karena kebetulan isi kepalanya hampir sama ganjilnya denganku dan sejauh ini kami masih berteman walaupun aksis pikiran kami sepertinya berlawanan arahnya. Sayangnya, teman ini akan menghadapi ujian Fisika yang super penting dalam waktu dekat, jadi akan kubiarkan dia hidup damai untuk sementara.

Oh ya, jika kamu punya selera humor yang anomali seperti aku dan temanku ini, aku rekomendasikan untuk menonton Life of Brian. Entah ambang tawaku yang terlalu rendah atau bagaimana, sepanjang film ini aku bisa tertawa. Kocaklah pokoknya.

A.

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A Guy With Constant Cloud Inside His Head

[3/30] A Guy With Constant Cloud Inside His Head

"Can you imagine that he created such a weird creature and made the main character in his book turned into that thing he describe as 'ungeheures Ungeziefer' (translated as monstrous vermin, euuuh..). What would you do if you woke up one day finding yourself as an insect? You must be freaking out, right? But in this story, he and his family reacted distinctively unusual....", then he continued reading some more line and translating them into English for me. I started understanding this man, he is in love with Franz Kafka. As he expressed his feeling passionately, it contagiously provoked my curiosity...Kafka, Kafkaesque, and this man.

He grabbed another book from his book self, an old book he showed me through a picture some days earlier. I guessed that book come from 1800 something, he thought that might be older. It was typed in such medieval font, maybe Gothic, Deutsch Gothic, or Germanica, I was not sure. Of course, it was in German. I wonder where did he got that book, I wish he didn't steal that from the city library. He stretched the particular nuance all over the room, almost beat the vanilla fragrance from a candle I lighted an hour earlier, on how much he valued the book. I could relate, when it comes to some books, things can be about life and death.

Beers and philosophical talk seemed to be a perfect match. I occupied the couch in his middle apartment room for three nights in a row and that time felt like a vacation to me, instead of an emergency evacuation plan. Too bad that if I asked to, I am about sure that I wouldn't be able to reach his place again without Google map. Done with those 'recess' period, I realized that I was succesfully recruited as a new Kafkaesque worshiper.

* * *

"Coba bayangkan, ia menggambarkan sosok serangga yang aneh, mengerikan, hampir tidak masuk akal, dan membuat tokoh utama dalam ceritanya tiba-tiba berubah menjadi serangga tersebut pada suatu pagi saat bangun tidur. Apa yang akan kamu lakukan jika kamu bangun tidur dan mendapati dirimu adalah serangga? Mesti heboh, kan? Tapi di cerita ini,si tokoh utama dan keluarganya malah bereaksi dengan cara yang tidak biasa...bla..bla.. ", ia melanjutkan membacakan dan mentranslasi ke bahasa Inggris untukku. Aku mulai mengerti orang ini, ia penggemar berat Franz Kafka. Karena ia mengekspresikan kecintaannya dengan sepenuh hati, aku pun jadi penasaran...Kafka, Kafkaesque, dan juga lelaki ini.

Ia mengambil satu buku lain dari rak bukunya, salah satu buku tua yang pernah ia tunjukkan lewat foto beberapa hari sebelumnya. Aku tebak buku tersebut berasal dari tahun 1800an, ia bilang bisa jadi lebih tua. Buku tersebut ditulis dalam bahasa Jerman dengan pilihan huruf yang sangat medieval, mungkin font-nya Gothic, Deutsch Gothic, atau Germanica, aku tidak begitu yakin. Aku bertanya-tanya, dimana ia mendapatkan buku tua tersebut, aku harap ia tidak memilikinya dengan cara yang ilegal. Nuansa kebanggaannya terhadap buku tersebut terasa memenuhi ruangan, mengalahkan aroma vanila dari lilin yang aku nyalakan satu jam sebelumnya. Aku bisa mengerti. Bagiku pribadi, beberapa buku bisa jadi berujung pada perkara hidup dan mati.

Bir dan obrolan filosofis sepertinya adalah pasangan yang serasi. Aku berhutang pada lelaki ini untuk sofa ruang tengah yang aku kuasai selama tiga malam berturut-turut, yang membuatnya lebih terasa seperti berlibur daripada mengungsi. Jika aku harus mengingat kembali jalan menuju alamat apartementnya (tanpa Google map), aku yakin aku tak bisa. Yang aku khawatirkan, dalam tiga hari itu aku berhasil didoktrin menjadi pengikut Kafkaesque.

A.

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The Monday Dinner-ers

[2/30] The Monday Dinner-ers

When I moved here almost one year ago, I was like that girl described in Journey's song Don't Stop Believing: felt lonely, tried hard, and I literally took a lot of midnight trains going anywhere. I was so excited about living a new chapter of my life far away from home but also confused that I became suddenly distant with my inner circle.

The first two weeks wasn't so enjoyable. I've been 'kicked' here and there during the process of securing my life on papers, felt insulted, got yelled for not knowing things, and so and so. Yet, I took that as Berlin sincerity in welcoming me. Till the day my school day began, I started meeting people with whom I feel belong. As a person who can't really enjoy the meal alone, life was restarted at that point.

This particular group isn't about a bunch of people having dinner every Monday. It just happened that our first 'officially planned' dinner was on one winter cold Monday evening some months ago. Some of our dinners wasn't even that kind of meal session you have in your thought; we supposed to study for the next day exam (we did study, of course), cooked (mostly pasta), played some games (ugh..should I skip this one?), and spent the long nights together. It really warms my heart that this Monday dinner thingy has developed into some routine get together for any reason we could find.

Yes, people do come and go. That's how the world works, face it! Every single person belongs to the same cohort with mine bond with each other in such ways I wished I had a little bit more time with them (not for the core course, please). This Monday dinner-ers? We can't stand not hugging each other and throwing "how are you?" although we just met a day before. That what makes them one of my lovely support systems.

Later later, there will be no more midnight rush to catch our ride home, there will be no chaotic drinking games while arguing about some sense to nonsense, and enjoying the grilled cheese-stuffed bell paper will never be the same. Anyway, it would still be a Monday Dinner as WhatsApp group and would always be one jewel in the crown of my exBerliner journey. Thank you!

(Too much for a sober toast, huh? 😆😆 )

The picture was taken by Mr. Santiago on Badeschiff visiting day, after a big portion of schnitzel, and those smiles plus blushing cheeks.. entirely sober.

* * *

Waktu pertama kali menginjakkan kaki di kota ini, aku benar-benar seperti sosok yang dideskripsikan di dalam lirik Don’t Stop Believing miliknya Journey: merasa sendiri, mencoba stabil dengan isi kepala yang mondar-mandir, dan benar-benar sering naik kereta sampai tengah malam tanpa tujuan yang jelas. Yah, semacam kombinasi dari semangat yang menggebu sekaligus juga perasaan yang tiba-tiba jauh dari rumah.

Minggu-minggu pertama terasa kurang mengenakkan. Selain dilempar kesana kemari untuk urusan legalitas, kala itu aku belum terbiasa dengan situasi dimana orang benar-benar tidak saling menyapa di jalan raya (ya kali Nya di jalan raya minta disapa). Tapi begitulah cara kota ini menyambutku tahun lalu. Hingga kemudian masa perkuliahan dimulai, aku mulai kenal teman baru (sebelumnya hanya kenal Jojo, my hero…). Sebagai orang yang tidak suka makan sendiri, hidup mulai terasa lebih baik.

Tentang grup Monday Dinner, bukanlah sekelompok orang yang kerjanya makan setiap malam senin (walaupun senin memang selalu makan, gimana sih Nya). Kebetulan makan malam bersama kami adalah pada salah satu malam senin nan dingin di musim bersalju. Jangan bayangkan makan malam yang mewah atau semacamnya, pada dasarnya hari-hari tersebut adalah malam dimana kami harus belajar untuk ujian hari besoknya, sementara kami lapar jadi masak pasta, kemudian kami bosan jadi kami main-main (sambil belajar tentunya), dan pada akhirnya mengobrol (semoga tentang materi ujian) sampai pagi. Yang aku suka adalah Monday Dinner bertumbuh menjadi pertemuan regular tanpa alasan yang jelas dan semata-mata karena kami saling membutuhkan satu sama lain.

Ini hidup. Orang datang dan pergi silih berganti. Aku sangat beruntung karena kelompok kuliah kami yang berjumlah 26 orang saling terikat satu sama lain dengan cara yang menyenangkan. Sayang kini sebagian besar dari kami sudah terpencar di berbagai belahan bumi padahal lagi saying-sayangnya (eh). Ah ya, tentang manusia-manusia Monday Dinner ini, kami selalu saling memberi pelukan hangat dan bertanya kabar, tak peduli kami baru bertemu di hari sebelumnya. Menurutku itu manis sekali.

Ah, nanti nanti di masa mendatang, tentu tidak lagi kami berlarian mengejar kereta malam agar bisa pulang, tidak lagi ribut-ribut mendebatkan hal penting tak penting, juga paprika panggang isi keju tidak akan pernah sama lagi. Akan tetapi, Monday Dinner akan tetap jadi Monday Dinner di grup WhatsApp (kecuali ada yang iseng mengganti namanya) dan juga akan selalu menjadi bagian dari ceritaku sebagai exBerliner.

Cheers,

A.

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FORTUNE COOKIES

[1/30] FORTUNE COOKIES

"Sie sollten mal wieder ausschlafen."

"You better sleep off!"

I'm a big fan of fortune cookies. As I also am patronising horoscope and Berlin weather forecast. Doesn't mean that I'm fully believer, no. I'm still a person with trust issue. For me, sneak peaking our fortune for couple days or week a head just sounds like a lot of fun.

More about fortune cookies, lately I managed to get them for my self at every Asian shop around (sometimes at regular supermarket and one friend even bought me one at zoo) . Buying a fortune cookie after one shopping session at one of those shops gives me such an after-shopping perk, which helps me maintain my sanity. Of course I do enjoy doing grocery in Asian style, obtaining some tofu and oriental herbs in their fresh form is still something gratifying in my head. Spending money on them is another thing. As wandering around the shop is such a pleasureable moment while doing the payment is not. Hehe.. Funny that mostly, they put the fortune cookies section on the last aisle closest to the cashier line. Like they already knew that I, or we, need that.

However, if 60 cents can bought me a temporary extra happiness, I would do that. Yeah, my happiness is that cheap. Also, I get some back up fellows who sent me weekly horoscope from my local homeland newspapers. Life is still good.

* * *

"Sie sollten mal wieder ausschlafen."

"Tidur lu, Nya!!"

Kata fortune cookie yang kubeli siang kemarin.

Aku ini penggemar fortune cookies (kue keberuntungan ala-ala yang di dalamnya ada kertas dengan kata-kata bijak, biasanya). Sama halnya dengan kesukaanku pada ramalan zodiak dan ramalan cuaca Berlin dan sekitarnya (akurat, cyiinn...). Bukannya percaya sepenuhnya, tapi mengintip keberuntungan seminggu ke depan kadang juga menyenangkan.

Tentang fortune cookie ini, di Berlin sendiri biasa didapat di toko-toko Asia, beberapa supermarket biasa, bahkan pernah di belikan teman di kebun binatang. Bagiku, fortune cookie ini sangat membantu menstabilkan mood setelah bayar-bayar belanjaan di kasir. Maklumlah, otak ini terlanjur bebal mengkonversi segala nominal ke rupiah, dan hal tersebut sangat mengancam kewarasan. Singkatnya, keliling dengan troli belanja di Go Asia sangat menyenangkan, kadang ada bahan makanan yang biasa kita temui di pasar tradisional di Bali. Sayangnya, perkara bayarnya tidak semenyenangkan itu. Yang menarik adalah bungkusan fortune cookie ini biasanya ada di deret terakhir sebelum kasir. Seakan mereka mengerti, manusia seperti aku butuh asupan kewarasan dari sebungkus kue yang bahkan rasanya tidak seenak itu.

Bagaimanapun, 50 atau 60 sen bisa juga membeli kebahagiaanku. Juga, aku tak lupa kepada para penyalur (dan mantan penyalur) ramalan bintang mingguan asuhan Wong Kam Fu yang masih berbaik hati mengirimkan kabar saban minggu. Hidup yang indah.

A.

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