That Makes It So Special

That Makes It So Special

“That’s so kind, why I am so welcome, why she missed me as I didn’t visit her for some time, me, a regular visitor of her footstall in Tonjong village, an old scarecrow on a bike in a sport shirt and shorts. I spend just Rp. 5.000.-, (half a dollar) you know?” said opa Johan to his wife. “ That’s for a hearty morning breakfast of tasty nasi uduk still warm, (coconut milk cooked rice) an egg and vegetables. That’s wonderful, that makes it so special. She would never become rich out of me.” he continued.

“Do you remember when our son told us about his visit with his family to a restaurant to eat a special dish recently? It was charged about one million Rp each and they were three. Just think, that’s 600 times my meal. While I enjoyed, ate mine leisurely at the lake side nearby the village. But I’ve not forgotten you as I certainly shared this with you in my mind. Ha, ha, ha. Why don’t you kiss me, you little ungrateful creature?”

September 2008

Elly Ameling

Elly Ameling

As I heard her singing Brahms Songs on CD, so true - I have no words -, I just would kiss it.

August 2008

Childhood In The Thirties 1

Childhood In The Thirties 1

At that time my granddad took me in his Fiat, heavily laden with his children – I and my brother had to duck meeting a police officer on the road - to his country house in his rubber plantation Sadeng Jamboe a village located near Buitenzorg (Bogor). Among the village huts, this was like a mansion, a palace, white, with huge pillars, half covered behind the trees where the river Cikaniki runs past.

As a warm welcome in the arms of Mother Nature we again saw the so well-known sights of atap palms, the iron bridge, the river, the big pond, then turned left and rode the alleyway. My granddad tooted and village children swarm in welcome, ran after the car or triumphantly jumped and rode along on the back bumper or on the side step.

We again saw the low, wild bamboo hedge, of which we made our fishing rods, the high coconut-, the bald kapok-trees with the boot shaped manyar nests, the huts in the orchard and we then stopped at a rustic small wooden back gate of the house and we, my brother and I ran as happy puppies along the long open corridor to celebrate our joy.

The country house had a wide, open front gallery with white pillars, high, wide windows and doors. High on the wall on both sides of its entrance door were two guardians of bronze. The floor was of marble, there were Chinese porcelain flower pots, tables, high chairs, rocking chairs, big wall mirrors antique Dutch ornamented, an old piano that was out of tune, a gambang ( a wooden xylophone). In another hall was the offering table with a large portrait in a frame of my late grandmother still young and another old woman, perhaps the grandmother of my mother I’d never seen.

The halls were lit with candle like spirit lamps. On the sides of the hall were the sleeping rooms for guests, very high, roomy and each had a square mosquito bed of jati wood. It’s very creepy. They say that it was haunted. Yet I had slept there more than once but certainly with someone.

In one of these rooms the gamelan (Javanese music instruments) was stored, complete with a large wooden chest with wayang golek (wooden puppets). The puppet shows were performed on special occasions.

But no one, no child feels him, herself at home in this palace. All was silent, every sound seems queer, somber, hollow… No one lives here. We ate, slept in the smaller, cozy village house, with large square bricks and played in the open gallery with a view to the once big, beautiful garden.

Wild flowerbeds, wild footpaths with white stones paved, a big empty pigeon house, a “bell-tower”, many old fruit trees, a well and a murmuring, ditch that runs through the garden were what was still there of what was once beautiful from former times.

In the open gallery we comfortably sat, played, chatted on the floor or on a tapang (a large wooden low couch) agreeably, happy with each other. We had no toys. My aunts, still girls could be my older sisters. They read no books, there was no news paper or radio. In the wooden roof structure were hollows of bees and as the sound of a breeze cicadas chirp.

On Courage

On Courage

There are so many examples of being courageous but this one is unique.
There was a press photo in Merdeka December 2, 1995 where a young man standing with his bike was kissing princess Diana, anxiously watched by her guardian lest he should take more than one. It takes courage to solicit her Royal Highness for a kiss. That was certainly more than a one million dollar favor.

August 2008

An Old Wall

An Old Wall

There was a long, high, old wall along Jl. Petojo Enclek XIV as though the remains of a wall of an old fortress. It was beautifully grown, decorated with creeping plants. They framed the old wide former windows and gates, without to plant and water them. Walking there was like wandering in a village, though you were in the center of Jakarta. But that was a long time ago.

Another curiosity was a tree that embraced the wall with its roots as exotic as a relief in an old Eastern temple. Alas! People cut him down. Only its roots were saved, free from destruction, offence and affront, but that was still enough and valuable who as Job was hit by 1001 adversities to keep himself alive.

Days before our National Day, August 17, there was the usual cleaning activity. This wall also was cleaned from all the “dirt” that was on the wall but it wasn’t a clean wall that appeared, but an ugly half ruined wall, for it were the wild plants that covered the wall with beautiful greenery and flowers as lovely hair covers, hides an ugly scar on a face.

Poor wild plants. The sun shines upon you, the rain bless you, artists would paint you in beautiful lines and colors, poets would sing of you, the wind gently rocks you to and fro and butterflies, bees, damselflies, … gratefully kiss you.

It’s the Creator who painted it and that tree on that wall. He adorns, decorates our ditches, paths, slopes, rivers, mountains, lakes, even ruins with weeds, wild plants, wild trees.

It’s our eyes, our prejudice that considers as beautiful only what is costly, what is on exhibitions and what is exhibited - so grand and freely given - by Nature, as worthless, weed, dirt.

There’s a stately, noble waringin tree of over a century - 10 men couldn’t embrace him -, lucky standing in Istiqlal Mosque, safe, protected from being cut down.

October 1987

From Media Indonesia August 23, 1991

Souvenir From Beijing

Souvenir From Beijing

Dedeh Erawati our 100 M hurdle women’s sprinter finished last in her heat. She wasn’t disappointed, waited tensely for the official announcement on the board, then she cried after reading it. She was elated having surpassed the national and the SEA Games record 2007 which was on her name. Only she, her two trainers, a friend and an Indonesian reporter who reported this were happy, proud of this feat. Unnoticed, without a medal, she certainly is our hero.

I surely have no less respect or gratitude for our athletes who succeeded to win a medal and raised our dignity in the world. But it’s not necessary to mention them, since the whole world knows, acknowledges, respects them.

How we yearn, thirst even for a bronze as a rice field yearns for rain during a drought. And we‘re so grateful. happy and proud as we got not just one but more than one and more than a bronze medal.

I remember the time when Indonesia was so strong in the men’s Badminton single. “The Magnificent Seven”, so the papers praised. It was as though this class was the class, the super class, the king among the other classes: the double, women single, mixed double are, so to say, second class. We would benignly pass the honor of these classes to others. But to day, they, the “second classers”, are our heroes who raised our dignity in the eyes of the world winning an Olympic medal. Certainly, these classes are as sterling as the men single’s class.

But they are not our only heroes. Those that fought to have badminton on the Olympic agenda and to continue it in the future are also heroes. Without them we wouldn’t have ranked so high. Our position would drop as we only could rely on our athletes that are not badminton players.

Our achievements are not just due solely to the efforts of our athletes. We certainly ought to be grateful for the hard work of coaches, trainers, financial support, … those who participated for our athletes to succeed.

Remember! I haven’t mastered the art of painting in English.

Agustus 2008

Monas Park

Monas Park

A visit to Monas (National Monument) is refreshing, relaxing for the Jakarta citizen, stressed after seeing, hearing all the dreary “modern” fuss of an over-crowded city-life.

Trees planted in Monas are now growing into shady woods. Wandering leisurely through it as through Nature’s chapel, treading as on a carpet of golden acacia pollen, hearing de woods resound with wonderful choirs and echoes of singing insects, seeing the green leafage of the bamboo, or the king palm burst into showers of blossoms, seeing the lace-like silhouette foliage against the sky, watching the floating clouds pass by like subtle thoughts or feelings, hearing the joyful chatter and twitter of hundreds or perhaps thousands of starlings and sparrows high up in some tall mahogany tree at dawn and on their return at sunset, breathing the fragrant soft scented air of woods and blossoms, … How cool the shade beneath the trees, how fresh the morning breeze.

I’d even found an oasis, a bubbling spring from some underground broken PAM water-pipe, making lovely shallow pools of unusually clear water, gently flowing as a rivulet. In it were tadpoles, water-snails; fresh water crabs, an occasional fish was sporting among the grass and weeds as water-plants while delicate damselflies were hovering, perching and swaying on its leaves as though on fancy trees and bushes along its banks. It would be fine if we could have some “leakages” made on purpose, as to create more permanent springs, pools and streamlets, at least for birds to drink and frogs and dragon-, damsel-flies to breed.

There is a stately young waringin, waiting for deer; coconut trees waiting for squirrels to chase and play hide-and-seek; woods for birds, chameleons, big tree-spiders, forest-ants, fireflies, grasshoppers, chirping crickets, cicadas that sing in the breeze; ponds, waiting for a duck-family or water-birds, frogs, fish, water-lilies; flowers that should invite bees and butterflies and not to forget the little snails, looking like fairy-tale sledges or tiny sailing boats, sliding and sailing up and down on stalks and leaves.

It’s people that were doing most of the harm on holidays as they flock or swarm like ants, making a lot of noise, playing loud music and leaving much dirt and rubbish behind.

How I wish Monas someday, growing so large in area that it would include Lapangan Banteng, the Istiqlal mosque, the Cathedral, Immanuel church, the Palace and the Ciliwung river flowing through it. But that wouldn’t happen in the near future as we only slowly would become wiser. Perhaps we’d see the storks and herons visiting Jakarta again as in former times; sailing, gliding, occasionally sporting in soaring, diving, circling, dancing as fascinating fireworks and vanishing away as in a dream or the close of a wonderful song.

Indonesia Times, July 8, 1986

Fishy Fish Project

Fishy Fish Project

Jamaica successfully replanted its coastal waters with sea grass, which restored the natural environments and increased the fish population (Kompas Sept. 12, 1986).

But the first time I ever heard of dumping Pedi cabs (Becak) into the sea aimed at attracting fish to increase fish population, was in the Jakarta Post, Sept. 27, 1986. This is apparently a pilot project headed by Indonesia.

Imagine the many trucks, boats and warehouses it takes to store, transport and ship the Pedi cabs to their final destination in a mass sea grave. About 18.000 Pedi cabs have been dumped into the waters of Thousand Islands, about 25.000 are still stored in the Cakung warehouse and many more are awaiting the same fate. Imagine the underwater seascape with maimed Pedi cabs.

Vehicles once loved by owners, a means to earn an honest living. Did they get any compensation to make up for their losses? Probably not, as it would be a foolish venture if the authorities should have to spend such a huge sum in compensations of confiscated Pedi cabs for the sake of sheltering fish.

I can understand why people have planted sea grass to attract fish, or trees to invite birds, or flowers to lure bees and butterflies. But I don’t see any sense in destroying and dumping roadworthy vehicles into the sea as a means to attract fish. We could as well experiment with dumping bajaj, motorcycles, cars, buses after raids on motor vehicles. They would make beautiful shelters for marine life and perhaps attract even more fish.

The Jakarta Post October 13, 1986

Fengshui

Fengshui

“Fengshui - one of the world’s most ancient arts, which teaches that man should be in harmony with nature – seems to be specially suited to adapt itself to modern usage,” so it is said and there’s a picture of Hong Kong’s imposing modern skyscrapers to illustrate this point. (The Jakarta Post, April 21, 1986).

But the picture shows anything except harmony with nature, something like beehives or colonies of termite hills. Nothing natural, like birds, trees, landscapes, wind, sun, streams, rocks, hills, mountains, …

Glorifying a modern high technology way of living – a poor substitute for nature: A.C. for mountain-air, lamplight for sunlight, ringing phones and tooting-horns for twittering and warbling birds, tap water and swimming pools for streams and lakes, sky-scrapers for hills and mountains – belittling nature, would be just arrogant modernism, not modern and contrary to Fengshui..

The Jakarta Post, April 29, 1986

Recipe For Staying Young

Recipe For Staying Young

There was an ink spot on a blank paper. Si Upik turned and turned the paper and contemplated, then, drawing lines and colored around the ink spot. The result was a nice letter paper which she send to her friend on her birthday.

“So, don’t be distressed, lament, loose your wits when you encounter an “ink spot”. Just be a bit creative, patient and calm. When you get wet in the rain, or fall into a stream, why not enjoy and have your shower in the rain or swim in the stream at the same time?

When nasi menjadi bubur, (cooking rice turning into porridge), don’t grumble, make a delicious chicken porridge out of it, as to stay young.! Ha, ha ha.” I remember her, this recipe for me.

Berita Buana, September 9, 1996

We, Man Would Mourn

We, Man Would Mourn

As I remember, said si Buyung, Jakarta ranked number three as the city that’s most polluted in the world. There was a warning ad of one full page in our foremost paper with a picture that should depict a girl or was it a woman with a snout, or a short trunk of an elephant with feet of a horse. She was the consequence, result of air pollution in time, so it said. It was so ugly that I never want to keep it. The first thing I thought when I saw her, was, there wouldn’t be any man who ever would court, more over ever marry her.

I don’t know which city, where people parked their cars vertically as the city was flooding with cars. I’m tempted to challenge the imagination of our engineers to create a car that’s not just “one in one” but “more than one in one” to cope with problems of parking space, traffic jams, and pollution.

The cover part of the car opened, seats folded it becomes a pick up. Wheels drawn up into its body, the fan placed behind, the car becomes a motor boat. By taking out its body as a match box it could be used as a caravan , …

More over, if the car could run on just plain water. No pollution. While raising our reputation in the world.

But still better would be the decrease of our population, as not to have our children, our grand children , … flooded, drowned by cars, pollution, trapped in traffic jams, cramped in flats as chickens in giant batteries, in dreary surroundings without gardens, warbling birds, without wild life as they’re extinct.

Why have our population grow so large towards hell, while we could create a heaven on earth by lowering this with family planning.

Hi, you dream girls, fairies of this age, we man would mourn when you would become unsightly as the result of pollution. We implore you: “Just one child, for the good of our generations to come, to have them still lovely, handsome, healthy, happy and … never feeling too old to be young.” That was his address.

Bisnis Indonesia September 24, 1991
Jayakarta August 16, 1993

Election For The Worst Ad

Election For The Worst Ad

“Every time I saw that ad on TV. the first thought was an election for the worst ad. Certainly, this ad could be nominated for a prize in ugliness and might be the champion, ha, ha.” si upik laughed. But which ad, no one will know. It’s si Upik’s “Kitchen Secret” (Rahasia Dapur) as not to hurt, offend the owner.

So, when there were really such an election one would exert his best to have his ad attractive, pleasing to the eye. Who would want his ad to be nominated as bad, ugly, unsightly, hateful to the viewer?

I like the ad with a crippled, hopping plane who luckily landed safely on the ship and the pilot limping, luckily falls safely in a net instead of in the sea.

“It’s a pity” said si Upik. “If I were the designer, I would make him fall, and fall, and not realizing, he wouldn’t fall in the sea, but fall, just guess, … in the arms of a goal keeper, eh, helplessly in the arms … of a lovely angel. That would be really lucky” said si Upik.

Berita Buana, August 13, 1996

A Delight To The Eye

A Delight To The Eye

See the silhouette of a tree at sunset as a wonderful painting in black and gold.
See the lovely waving shadow of a flower on the wall.
See the smoke of obat nyamoek (a slow burning stuff to keep away mosquitoes) delicately appear, ascend artistically and vanish in the air.
See the mango tree blossoming as a wedding veil.
See the moon peeping behind the clouds.

“And especially, never miss to see your sweetheart’s smile to you, you dumb head.” Si Upik added a note in si Buyung’s diary.

Ekonomi Neraca, February 25, 1997

Loaned In Ice Cream

Loaned In Ice Cream

“Hmm, how delicious” as si upik scooped her ice cream by little dainty bits. “Do you want some of mine? I’ll give you some.” knowing that I awfully like ice cream.

“I have had mine. No.” I said.

“Oh, don’t pretend, don’t lie” she said. What if you take this ice cream as a loan.” she insisted, persuaded me.

“What would you do?” I asked Pak Arif.

“Well, I would repay your little daughter’s loan with a kiss.” said he.

Form Berita Buana July 26, 1997

A Dear Friend

A Dear Friend

No need to talk to.
No need to be witty, interesting, smart, delighting, or entertain him.
I can think my thoughts openly.
For hours, days, years he isn’t bored with me.
He gladly, readily goes with me wherever I go, in rain or shine.
He is delighted with my coming home, without asking distrustful questions.
He is my dog.

Suppose, when I on purpose leave him alone somewhere with the wish that he goes astray, yet will he return happy and gladly, joyfully meet me without hard feelings.

When my acquaintances, my friends, my children and even my wife have left me, my dog will be the last creature to leave me and only then, whenever he has the heart to do so.

Only in the eyes of my dog, am I forever rich, young and good. Where I am, there’s his home.

How I wish Eve could be so dear.

1977

The Sweet Queen Of Beauty

The Sweet Queen Of Beauty

“How ingenious when Nature arranges” said si Upik, pointing at the ‘eyes’ at the bottom of the manggiston. “If there are six, or five ‘eyes’ then inside will be followed by also six or five lumps of fruits without fail.”

“And … only if you know how to open it. Not the way to open a duku by pinching the fruit with thumb and forefinger, but by making a delicate incision around the outer part without damaging the inside. Then carefully open it as you open a jewel box and sshhh … Behold the sweet, lovely Queen of Beauty slumbering on a dark brown couch. Beautiful as a water lily, white, pure as fresh fallen snow, sweet, delicious, not less than honey. A fruit worth to be presented to the Gods.” So said si Upik,

Suara Karya, May 24 1997

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Delightful, Charming Stories, So Simple, So Wise 3

Not mine. Just for a break

A Prayer For A Bigger House

A man visited Abunawas, the wise, witty folk’s jester. He complained that his house was too small for his family. He had prayed Allah for a bigger one but it isn’t heard. “What should I do?”

“Well, it’s that easy.” he said. “Buy yourself some chickens.”
“But I have no garden.”
“Just keep them in your room.” And the man bought them.

After a week Abunawas asked him, “Is it better now?”
“No, it was bad.”

“Oh, then you should buy a goat.”
And after a week he asked “Is this better?”

“Worse” said the man.

“So, just buy you a cow.”
He now has chickens, a goat and a cow in his room.

“But this is hell, I can’t stand it anymore.”

“So, now sell your poultry.”

After a week he asked “Is it better now?”
Oh, certainly, I’m feeling fine.

“Sell your goat”.
“ My house seems roomy” he told Abunawas.

“What about selling your cow now?”

After having sold his cow, he was elated, thanked Abunawas. “This is heaven. How big is my house now. Praise be to Allah. He has heard my prayers.”

“So, when you prayed to Allah, He gave you not the way you think He would give you. He gave you even more by opening your inner eyes, more than you had expected.” So said Abunawas.

August 2008

Delightful, Charming Stories, So Simple, So Wise 2

Not mine. Just for a break
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Many Comments, Many Opinions

Father and son were taking their donkey home from the market. On their way someone said aloud: “Why? So stupid. Have a donkey, no one is riding it?”

So the father said: “you ride the donkey.”

Then a woman exclaimed “How shameful, to have his father walk and he’s riding.”

So the father was riding the donkey, while his son walked.

But this also was wrong, and now both father and son were riding on the donkey.

“Well, that’s comfortably riding together at the expense of the little creature.” Another woman blamed them.

So they fastened the donkey’s feet and pushed a wooden pole through it. Upside down the donkey was hanging on the pole and carried on their shoulders.

August 2008

Delightful, Charming Stories, So Simple, So Wise 1

Not mine. Just for a break

The Three Wishes

A wood cutter came home from the woods and told his wife that a fairy granted him three wishes.

During their dinner they discussed not to waste it on worthless wishes. Being hungry, her husband suddenly involuntarily said: “How I wish to have sausages to night.” And there came a dish with sausages.

“You stupid fool, wishing such a wish,” cried his wife angrily.

“Hold your tongue, you greedy woman. I wish these sausages to fasten on your nose” he retorted vehemently. Then the sausages hang on her nose.

“Oh no, no, no, cried his wife desperately.

Comforting her: he said: “don’t worry,. I still have one wish in store and we could still wish something valuable”.

“Wish these sausages back on the dish plate” she pleaded.

“Won’t you ever be sorry?”

“No, no, oh no.”
And so he wished the sausages to return on the table and they were reconciled, happy again and enjoyed the dinner.

August 2008