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.

Read More

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.

Read More

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

Read More

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.

Read More

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 :)

Read More