footprints of life

…atau tunangan orang asing, berarti menghadapi pertanyaan-pertanyaan dan komentar-komentar menarik, seperti misalnya:

•  "Orang tua pasti bangga ya, kamu mau menikah sama bule…"
•  "Kamu udah ketemu orang tuanya? Kan orang ****** biasanya rasis."
•  "Nanti waktu penyelidikan kanonik, salah satunya ditanyain, apa motivasi menikah.  Apa bener-bener karena cinta atau kontrak atau apa.  Kan biasa tuh, orang asing kawin sama orang sini untuk bisnis atau apa…"
•  "Ketemunya di mana, Bali?" - dengan sebelah alis naik sedikit
•  "Wah, bagus ya, nanti anaknya bisa jadi bintang film."
•  "Kok bisa sih?"
•  "Dapetnya di mana?"
•  "Dia nggak laku ya di sana?"
•  Dan, serupa tapi dari sumber yang berbeda, komentar yang terakhir ini aku dengar dari mulut seorang pria bule sebelum aku pacaran sama masku yang terakhir ini, dan bahkan waktu itupun aku sudah ternganga mendengarnya, "Cowok bule yang pacaran sama perempuan Asia itu kan ga laku di negaranya, masa sih di sana ga ada cewek."

Reaksi? Senyum aja…sok-sok nggak dengar, hahaha.  Tapi yang menarik adalah melihat berbagai jenis ’stereotype’ yang muncul dalam benak orang ketika melihat sesuatu yang menurut mereka tidak biasa - biasanya kita tidak berkomentar banyak kan, ketika melihat hal yang biasa aja?

(Tapi lucu juga terakhir mendengar cerita saudaraku yang sama-sama pergi ke stasiun sama aku dan masku untuk mengantar saudara lain pergi ke Jakarta:

"Mosok to Mbak, tadi di stasiun ada mbak-mbak gitu, rada-rada gemuk gitu deh orangnya.  Terus to, dia tu ngeliatin kamu sama masmu gitu.  Tadinya to, takkira cuma sekilas aja, ya biasa to… gak taune dia terus ngelirik-ngelirik terus. Dia tu ngeliatin masmu, terus ngeliat kamu… terus ngeliat kamunya dari atas sampe ke bawah gitu lho, mbak… Terus dia liat ke tempat lain, terus nanti curi pandang lagi, ngeliatin kamu lagi gitu, dari atas ke bawah… Aneh banget! Wis arep takparani, meh taktakoni, ‘Kenapa, Mbak, mbak saya cakep ya?’"

Hahaha…. Aku bilang aja, "Mungkin dia terinspirasi, Dek, cewek chubby gitu bisa dapet bule, aku bisa juga kali ya…." hahahaha.)

Menurut kamu, apa sih stereotype yang mendorong munculnya komentar-komentar di atas? Dan apakah kita sendiri sudah ‘bebas’ dari pemikiran-pemikiran semacam itu?  Aku sendiri, jujur, belum.  Jadi layak dan sepantasnya, aku cuma tersenyum, dan memahami.  Meskipun sejatinya, dalam hati menyanyi, "Bule juga manusia…. "

Aku suka Bahasa Indonesia dan Bahasa Jawa, mau tahu karena apa?  Karena dua-duanya memberikan tempat untuk menjadi akrab tanpa terlalu akrab dan asing tanpa terlalu asing.  Ketika sudah berada di sini, baru aku menyadari, betapa asyiknya bisa menyapa orang asing dengan panggilan ‘Mas’, ‘Mbak’, ‘Bang’, ‘Kak’, ‘Pak’ dan ‘Bu’, atau menempelkan sapaan-sapaan itu ke depan nama orang-orang yang kita kenal.  Bahkan kita bisa memakai sapaan-sapaan itu untuk orang yang kita kenal dengan baik, maupun orang yang hampir-hampir asing, seperti penjaga toko.

Di sini, sampai saat ini, aku kok belum menemukan sapaan yang setara dengan itu.  Walhasil, sampai sekarang, aku cuma pernah mendengar diriku disapa dengan dua cara, namaku saja alias njangkar, dan ‘Madam’.  Aduh, rasanya aneh dipanggil begitu.  Sopir kantor di Aceh dulu, yang lebih muda dari aku, panggil aku Mbak, sopir yang sekarang, jauh lebih tua, panggil aku ‘Madam’.  Pembantu di rumah Aceh malah cuma panggil aku pakai nama, eh, di sini, lagi-lagi, ‘Madam’.  Aku kok merasa kayak jadi nyonya besar, hahaha, nggak cocok banget.

Aku juga merasa nggak nyaman memanggil staf kantor, dari Project Manager, sampai sopir dan security hanya dengan nama, aduh… padahal semuanya jauh lebih tua.  Mungkin perlu pembelajaran lebih banyak untuk membiasakan diri pada budaya baru, atau, yang lebih jelas, perlu benar-benar belajar bahasa setempat, siapa tahu menemukan kata-kata yang bisa mengobati kegegaranbudayaku.  Atau mungkin suatu hari nanti, aku hanya perlu menerima, bahwa bahasa di sini memang jauh lebih egaliter daripada bahasaku, siapa tahu…

"perfect timing" is what I call it when I found out that 24 hours after I left home, my watch stopped working, grrrr……. Not that it will be impossible to find replacement batteries out here, but, seriously… why didn’t it stop working back home, where I know exactly where to find them? And a watch is something I can’t live without

A couple of days ago, I happened to be in a conversation that would haunt me for days.  I was with a couple of male friends, both of them married, and in their early thirties. As we were discussing about my coming wedding, one of them, let’s call him Mr. X, asked a somewhat simple question to me, "If you look at yourself, would you consider this wedding to come early in life, late, or just in time?"

As I was sitting on the back seat of the car, while both of the were on the front seats, they couldn’t really see my face as I was pondering the question.  But before I opened my mouth, the other guy, Mr. Z, already responded with another question, "What do you mean?"

So then, this conversation followed:

Mr.X:  I mean, when I looked at myself, I think I got married quite early..

Mr.Z: What do you mean by early, in age, or you only had a short time to get to know her before deciding?

Mr. X:  No, I mean, by age.  I think I never thought that I would get married already at that age, and I think that fact also surprised some of my friends, you know… that I settled down ‘early’.

Me (err… let me call myself Ms. Y, hahaha) :  Yeah, I can see that.  I mean, not that you’re never serious about life, but I can see that you might not fit into the typical guy who settles down early in life.

Mr. Z:  For me, I think I got married quite late for my standard.

Mr. X:  Hence the question, how about you, Y?  What do you think about marrying at this age?

And before I had the chance to respond, again, Mr. Z quickly answered,

Mr.Z :  I think for a girl, marrying in this age is quite late.  Normally, women in her age are already married for some years, and even have children.

Mr. X: I am not talking about ‘normally’, I am talking about measuring oneself against one’s goals in life, does she think that she gets married at the right time, at the time she wants, or plans, to get married.

Mr. Z :  I still think this age is quite late for a woman to get married.

And err… guys, I was STILL SITTING there behind you, comprende? But we arrived at our destination before I could answer, so we left the conversation at that.

But it was an interesting question to start with, if you measure yourself, would you think that the things that happen to you in life, the choices you make, the events, opportunities, changes, come to early, just right or too late? 

And I am wondering how many people are actually thinking about it, about how they measure themselves. Not according to parents’ expectation, society expectation, what is ‘normal’, or whatever it is the name we attach to ‘conformity’. 

How many people actually ask themselves, am I ready for this?  Do I really want to take this decision, that will change my life, for the better hopefully, now?  Does it fit into the kind of life I want to have?  Do I really need to take control of everything in my life, or is it time to let go a bit and let my life takes its own course?  Am I ready to take the plunge, knowing that there is no guarantee that everything will work out fine?

Anything, anything in life… be it graduating, getting a job, getting a new job, first boy/girlfriend, first kiss, making commitments, breaking up, virginity, moving to a new place, making investments, getting married, having children, going back to school, traveling, quitting a job… any choice, any decision… Is it too early, just right, or too late, in our own scheme of time? Is this the life you want to experience?  Is this the person you want to see in the mirror the next morning?  Do you really listen to what YOU want to do and WHEN you want to do it?

And as the answer I never got to give, I think it’s just in time.  At times, I tend to think it’s a bit too early (an answer that would make my mother turn in her grave - her being the traditional, typical Javanese woman she was), but I think it’s a good time to start a new challenge in life.  I am not saying I am fully ready for whatever comes as the consequence of this choice, but I can say that I think I have sufficient base to take the decision, and take the plunge. And honestly, I do think sometimes, it’s about time.

Sana’a, October 2, 2009.

PS: Thanks AB for the intriguing philosophical question, and at least that day I know that people who think the way I think are not that rare. 

Moving places, and homes, is always a good exercise.  That’s what I heard from some people, and what I refused to believe, until lately.

Moving is always a painful activity, since by the end of whatever months or years staying in one place, I end up getting really confused on where the h*** all those things had come from, hahaha.  I do realize that I am a bit of a hoarder, thinking that those things will someday come in handy, yeah….something unforeseen could always happen, right?  And being cash strapped, you can never waste anything that could still be used, or could still be possibly used….someday.

It is true that money makes life easier.  Definitely.  I am not trying to be a hypocrite and say that it’s not true.  What is interesting, is that money makes it easier to stop being a hoarder.  You know, keeping that extra pieces of paper that might come in handy in like… never(?), that extra pen that could still work if we get the right refill… one day(?), pushing those cute shirts to the corner hoping that we could shrink to fit in err…. ten years (?)… Knowing that we can afford to buy those things WHEN we actually need them, really helps to learn to let go of all the things that MIGHT come in handy, SOMEDAY.

Moving on from one life to another, it always hurts to pack those things, going through the memories each thing holds, knowing that we cannot hold on to them, the things, the memories, the life.  But the best memories stay within my heart, that’s something I learn from moving on.  

But now…. I have to learn to deal with others who have not learnt the lessons I learnt, hahaha.  Trying to sort through things to move into a new house, and finding out that there are so many things that we could live without, and we had lived without for the last five years - at least, filling up every possible corners. And knowing, that getting rid of them will bring pain to the people I really care about

Letting go of earthly possession, and holding on to the ones in the heart… how difficult..

Salatiga, 20/08/2009

Sesudah mengalami banyak kemiripan-kemiripan di negara sendiri, kayak yang kuceritain di postingan lebih dari dua tahun lalu, di sini,  ternyata sesudah keluar dari negara sendiri, tetep aja ada kejadian-kejadian yang semakin membuktikan bahwa mukaku…. Pasaraaaaan!!!

Selama di Amerika Serikat, banyak orang yang nebak aku orang Filipina.  Sering juga di supermarket asia, tahu-tahu ada orang Filipina yang main tanya aja, di mana bisa ketemu sesuatu (itu tebakanku aja sih, hehehe….. habis, tanya apa lagi sih kalau lagi di supermarket…). Tapi itu bisa dipahami, lha wong aku sendiri kadang kalau ngeliat orang Filipina juga kadang ragu-ragu, kira-kira ini orang Indonesia atau bukan, hehe. Cuma karena kadar keberanian dan kepedeanku aja yang kurang, jadi aku nggak pernah asal nyapa gitu aja, hehehe.

Jadi, lama-lama aku santai aja kalau ada orang yang nebak aku orang Filipina. Kirain itu aja, ternyata ada lagi orang yang mikir aku Latina, terus lebih parah lagi India…. terus lebih aneh lagi Indian…. wis jan.  Memangnya mukaku itu apanya sih yang bisa masuk ke berbagai benua begini?

Hampir setahun di AS, udah biasa lah dengan berbagai label aneh itu.  Kirain waktu kembali ke Asia, kejadian kayak gitu nggak bakalan terulang kembali.  Eh, salah dong… hahaha…

Pertama, jalan ke Kuala Lumpur…yah, wajar lah, kalau aku dikira orang Melayu, ya nggak, emang mirip. Tapi kadang-kadang lumayan repot juga kalau diperlakukan seperti orang lokal, dalam beberapa hal rasanya pelayanan lebih oke kalau mereka tahu kita itu turis. Seminggu lidah berlipat-lipat dan telinga keriting mencoba untuk bicara dan memahami bahasa Melayu, aku seneng juga kembali ke Indonesia.

Perjalanan berikutnya membawaku ke Kamboja.  So far so good, sebagian besar orang bisa bahasa Inggris lancar.  Beberapa kali orang sana mengatakan bahwa mukaku mirip orang Khmer, ah, kuanggap itu sekedar keramahtamahan saja.  Tapi ternyata…. hari ketiga di Siem Reap, setelah gosong bolak balik, di salah satu candi terakhir dari rangkaian candi-candi Angkor, tahu-tahu petuga pemeriksa tiket nyerocos dalam bahasa Khmer.  Aku pikir dia ngomong sama pedagang asongan, eh, ternyata nggak ada yang nyautin, tengok sana tengok sini, ah, rupanya si bapak teh lagi ngomong sama aku, hahaha. Baru sesudah aku nggak nyaut, dia nanya, "Where are you from?"

Besok paginya, pas mau nyebrang ke Thailand lewat perbatasan Poipet-Aranyaprathet, petugas yang ukur-ukur suhu tubuh, tau-tau tanya, "Laos?"  Nah lho…. Kemarin dikira Khmer, hari ini dikira Laos. Hahaha… lagi antre puanjang buanget untuk masuk Thailand, tau-tau aku ditowel petugasnya untuk masuk ke antrean baru.  Nah lho, aku jadi bingung, bingungnya…jangan-jangan dia nowel aku karena dia pikir aku orang lokal…lha wong aku disuruhnya masuh ke antrean yang tulisannya jelas-jelas "THAI". Tapi ya udah lah, gila aja, antreannya puanjang abis… yipeee!

Lewat imigrasi, kami naik tuk-tuk (kayak becak motor gitu…) ke stasiun Aranyaprathet untuk naik kereta ke Bangkok. Beli tiket, gampang… Pas naik, kedengeran orang-orang bilang "farang", yang artinya ‘orang asing’. Sip deh, hehehe. Tapi begitu duduk, ada bapak-bapak di dekat tempat duduk kita yang tau-tau nyerocos… baru kita bengong deh. Ternyata dia mau tanya, berapa harga tiketnya, mungkin dia penasaran, kalau orang asing bayarnya sama nggak. Hahaha…akhirnya dia cuma bisa tanya, "how much?", terus senyam senyum aja, hahaha.

7 jam berlalu nyaris tanpa insiden.  Begitu ‘mendarat’ di stasiun Hualamphong di Bangkok, keluar cari taksi, ada tukang taksi gelap yang nyerocos nawarin taksinya…pakai bahasa Thai… Lha ya aku bingung ta, baru sesudah aku bilang, "I am not Thai," dia ganti ke bahasa Inggris. hahaha…. Besoknya jalan-jalan di Bangkok, tau-tau disamperin cowok gitu, nanya sesuatu. Lah, itu lebih parah, karena memang cuma ada aku dan temanku di situ.  Aku clingak-clinguk aja, terus dia nunjuk-nujuk pergelangan tangannya. O alah, tanya jam…ya aku tunjukin aja jamku, sambil bilang, "I am not Thai." Langsung dia minta maaf bertubi-tubi dalam bahasa Inggris, hahaha.

Yah, begitulah.  Nggak di dalam negeri, nggak di luar negeri, ternyata mukaku bisa ditaruh di mana aja..hahaha. Sekali pasaran, teteup…pasaran.

15/08/2009

A good friend once asked me, on the face of two possibilities: would I rather say goodbye crying, or fighting. And I remember saying whimsically, I’d rather say goodbye fighting, because that day, we were crying.

I guess I never quite took the time to explain to him why I said what I had said. And though I never quite regret missing the chance to do so, for I believe that things happen for a reason, and that they come in their own good times, I wished I had made more effort to explain myself.

My dear friend, that day was the second time we said goodbye. And no matter how we tried to make it a ‘see you again’, it still felt a lot like goodbye. And that was the second time we said goodbye in tears. At that point of time, there lied ahead a possibility to try something different, to do something we had never done before. It meant another chance to meet again and enjoy our friendship, but it also meant an opportunity to strengthen it or a risk of destroying it.

For me, I’d rather take the chance. If that means knowing you a tiny bit better, pushing the limit of our relationship a bit further, I’ll take the chance. I always believe, possibly wrongly, that it is in dealing with conflict, our real selves come into play.

Are we forgiving? Are we humble enough to say ‘I’m sorry’? Are we graceful enough to hold our temper in check? Are we strong enough to take whatever it is need to be said to us and move on? Are we loving enough to let it pass and look at the good times? Are we honest enough to say what we need to say? Are we patient enough to caress the wound and give it time to heal? Are we tough enough to know that we would heal?

I wear my scars with pride, knowing that what doesn’t kill me makes me strong, to quote your words. I cannot tell you that I survived them all, no, as a matter of fact, I did not survive them all. And never, ever ever, I went through a relationship unscathed. But as much as anything else, relationships are mirrors to ourselves. As much as learning about others, I had been through invaluable lessons of looking into my relationships and seeing the ugly reflection that was me. But learning to deal with it, make peace, and move on, has been the greatest lesson of all.

And you, I love you enough to know, that I will survive whatever happens between us, of course, except losing you. Maybe I did not tell you that enough. Or maybe, you don’t believe it enough. Maybe I had pushed the limit a tiny bit too far for you.

Today, I am letting you go. Hoping that setting you free means setting you free to come back to me. Wishing you would remember, that third goodbye felt a lot like a ‘see you again’, and didn’t we want that in the first place?

15/08/2009