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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