O Jakarta!

So today I finally have to contemplate moving back to Indonesia permanently, at least for a while. I’d love having my dad around, and I’ll be able to be even more actively involved in helping Yayasan Prima Unggul and Institut Leimena. Of course, food’s great and I get to be rolling fat soon enough. 

It’s really not too bad, except there’s a few things that just makes me go AHHHHHH

1) Jakarta Traffic
No words can describe the madness. If even the people from Bangkok says it’s crazy, I don’t know what to call it. It’s quite frustrating trying to get anywhere because 30 mins on Google map is 3 hours in reality. Of course that just makes your day longer, and attempts to do anything productive slower. 

2) Land of Slow Internet
Ok, I’m so pampered in this sense. I like having my videos stream and websites loading instantly. Goodbye high speed internet ;_; ~! Hello to everything 3G, I guess 

3) Where are my English … books? 
The nicest thing about living in Singapore is you walk out, and you can go to a bookstore filled with shelves and shelves and shelves and…shel of ENGLISH BOOKS! It’s just so glorious, I can spend hours there rolling and basking in the…well you get my point.

4) Long Walks at Night
is impossible in Jakarta! Unless maybe you’re circling the ditch outside your house. But even then, you’re being circled by an adoring swarm of mosquitoes. 

Well in the first place, if you say, I want to go for a stroll, even in mid-day, most people would just go, you crazy? There’s the pollution, no pedestrian walkways or crossings, high potential of getting knocked down by a motorcycle or car, and everything’s spread so far apart there’s really nowhere nice to walk to. (At least where I live) Of course people still do walk, but with a purpose, not really for a stroll. 

I’m just used to skipping to the grocery store at night and enjoying the cool night breeze in Singapore. 

Well, in the end, I’ll go where life takes me ;) 

"Nobody gave me chocolate"

• Friend: Happy Valentine Day! What are you going to do today?
• Me: Oh yes! I forgot. I don't celebrate it. How about you? What are you going to do?
• Friend: Me. Thinking about it.
• Me: In Myanmar, people give chocolate?
• Friend: Yap. What should I do?
• (continues) Nobody give me chocolate.
• HAHAHAHAHA.

Ah, nothing beats homemade bread, even if it’s just plain bread. No preservatives and extra ingredients you know nothing about. I added a few spoons of really nutritious goat’s milk powder to the batter and a bit of honey. Doesn’t make much a difference in taste, but the bread smells really good. 

Gonna have a huge slice tomorrow morning, with homemade sweet whipped cream butter slathered on top. YUM! 

How I learned to haggle…

I used to watch my mom haggle at the market. She is quite good at it. I would just stay silent. I hated haggling, there was so much pressure. Plus I was a shy, introverted kid. 

When I was around 13, I was yelled at by a shopkeeper in Bali for attempting to drag my family to a different store. Of course it was outrageous and rude of him (surprising considering Balinese are usually nice) and I had all rights to sway the decisions of my family if I wanted to. But the incident made me just a tad bit scared of shopkeepers. 

The turning point was watching the king of bargaining - My brother - in action. He is the kind of guy who can get freebies with his purchase at a fixed price store in Singapore. If the food or service at a restaurant is sub-par, you can be almost sure that his meal is usually free or discounted. I’m not sure if his size or stature affects anything, but I noticed that many people seem eager to please him and sometimes offer up free gifts with his purchase without him asking. (Oh, the benefits of being a big tall guy in Asia?) 

My beginnings with bargaining was awkward and painful. But after visiting the night market for the gazillionth time, before I know it, incidents such as this would happen each visit to the night market. I would be happily looking at things in the market when…

“Bel!” 

“Yes?” *runs over to friend standing in front a pile of T-shirts* 

“I want to buy this. Can you help me?” 

Eh? Since when was I the expert? 

In any case, if you’re going to be traveling, especially in Southeast Asia, I do suggest you to read The Ultimate Guide to Bargaining in Southeast Asia written by yours truly. And of course, bookmark the site - SEA Youth Say So and you can familiarize yourself with the beautiful region that is Southeast Asia! :) 

RIP

Just received news from a friend that his dad had just passed away.

It always shakes me to hear such news, especially since this has happened to a few of my good friends of late.

I remember when he first told me his father was ill; he said the only thing they had in common was a love for hiking and that he still hasn’t fulfilled his promise to go hiking with his dad.

Rest in peace dear fathers, knowing that your sons and daughters care for you.

For now, I hope we all continue to treasure what we have.

VHM is finally here!

• Me: *opens the door to find my brother with his hair waxed, all suit-ed up for a meeting, with a "lookie-here-ain't-i-cool" pose* Erm... Why are you standing here?
• Brother: VHM is finally here! *puts his hands on his hips and swings his head back slightly*
• Me: Urr.... I don't know what that is
• Brother: VERY HANDSOME MAN
• Me: .................................................

tee hee #fangirl mode

I rediscovered my childhood crush while watching 全城戒备  today. It was surprisingly entertaining. When I first read the plot summary, I had thought it would be pretty ridiculous. The side couple was the coolest and the most badass; and of course, that’s where I went: WHERE HAVE I SEEN THAT GUY BEFORE? - well, after “o shit, so hot!”

I traced it back to “Shaolin” last year where he played a small but memorable (in my mind) role, in which I had the exact same reaction: “zomg, he’s bloody my type.” and then “have I seen him somewhere before? He looks so familiar”.

This time, my memory has jolted me back. Yes I’ve seen him in an unknown Chinese TV series that aired in the afternoon back in 2002. I loved that series so much I would rush home from school just to watch it. Ah the memories. Anyways I don’t know what’s up with me and martial artists (which is lame considering my terrible skills [I should try and pick it up again]); . This was way back even before Dan Southworth. haha… =P

Do not wish to be anything but what you are, and try to be that perfectly.

The discipline master

Liking the warmth of the sun and wanting to get away from the Saturday afternoon crowd, I made my way up to the rooftop of Orchard Central. It was breezy and sunny and I was enjoying the solitude and peacefulness. “When you say nothing at all” was playing softly in the background. 

A ping on my phone told me a friend I was just thinking about had started a conversation. I walked to a shaded spot and tapped away my message, squatting down as I did so. In the middle of enjoying my conversation, a male voice boomed to my right, “You can’t sit here” 

I looked up to see who was interrupting into my little relaxing moment. A man with a working badge hung from his neck towered over my squatting figure; most likely one of the security persons from the mall. *sigh* 

“I’m not really sitting, but all right,” I said, relaxed but resigned, getting up slowly and looking at my phone as a new message had came in. 

There seemed to be a pause coming from him, since I wasn’t looking at him, I had no idea how his face had looked, but perhaps he was a little ticked off that instead of getting up silently I had the nerve to challenge his claim of “sitting”. 

“Well, you can’t squat here either” came his reply a moment later. 

I was already too busy tapping away a message and he walked away. Although in retrospect I wish I had asked, “Why though?” 

Why enforce such an inane rule? I wasn’t obstructing anything; why not just let me enjoy this beautiful public space? Or why bother to even make someone’s day a little less bright by being such a stickler to rules when you could just have overlooked it and the day wouldn’t have gone any different for anyone? 

I couldn’t help but think it must suck, to have a job, where your job is to make the lives of other miserable by ensuring others stick to brainless rules. Of course this would remind me of a particular job that embodies it all: The discipline master. 

In the past, during the period of waiting for one’s O Levels Results, students can choose to temporarily attend junior college for three months. Since it was all temporary, the students all wore different uniforms from their secondary school and it was a daily colorful congregation of varying uniforms. 

Two and a half months into the period, it was another regular day at my temporary junior college as usual when the discipline master took a few students and me out to the side to complain about our attire. 

My secondary school had two kinds of uniform. A formal everyday uniform and a more relaxed attire consisting of a school T-shirt and school skirt. That day, I had been wearing my school T-shirt and school skirt. The discipline master demanded to know which secondary school I had came from. 

“Where is your formal uniform?” He demanded. 

“At home,” I replied. 

I had been wearing this attire for a while and nobody had had any problems with it till then. 

“Go home now, change to your uniform and come back,” He commanded. 

I stared at him. Was he nuts? He must be. The morning class has probably started now. And I lived an hour and a half away. That would be a three hour journey back and forth. I would probably miss a ton of classes and for a mind-blowingly ridiculous reason. 

Of course, I could just have used that as a perfect excuse to go home and take the rest of the day off. But deciding that the situation was too idiotic to withstand, I replied curtly, “I won’t. I’m withdrawing from school today.” 

There was a long moment of silence. I was savoring the look on his face and I could envision the insides of his brain spewing and sputtering in steam and anger.

“Okay. Go to the office and get it done. NOW!” His mouth was threatening to tear from the vigorous teeth clenching.

My heart was beating fast. I was unused to opposing authorities, but this one was ridiculous. I have watched him make students’ lives miserable everyday and people leave midway through the period all the time because it was only temporary.  I walked at a steady pace to the office; he followed closely behind. 

I yanked open the door and said in my normal cheery voice to the assistant, “Hi, I’d like to withdraw from school.” 

She didn’t even bat an eyelid. Many students had probably already came before me. Some of my classmates only went to school once a week. 

“Just tell your home tutor, he’ll know what to do,” She replied. 

“Ok thanks!” 

I exited the office. The discipline master stood there, his enlarged eyes staring fixedly at me. “So?” 

I told him what had been relayed to me. He seemed a little disgruntled and reluctantly told me to return to my class. Back in class, I told my home tutor (the teacher in charge of my class) I wished to withdraw. An easy going, relaxed man, he simply said he would take care of it later and went on with what he was doing. 

In less than 10 minutes, the discipline master came searching for me. Towering at the door and blocking all the beautiful rays of the sun, he demanded to know the status of my withdrawal, choosing to shout from the door instead of entering the classroom. 

“Yes, she already told me. I will handle it.” came a short, neutral reply from my home tutor. 

I sat there in my seat, surrounded by my close friends in class, all staring at this angry man standing helplessly at the door, probably wondering what was going on. He stood there for a while, watching my (secretly) smug figure sitting comfortably on my seat. Any of his hopes to pluck me out and personally escort me out of the school gates were probably dashed by now. After lingering for a few moments more, my home tutor looked up at him, as if to say “Uh…why are you still here? Can I go back to what I was doing now?” 

He looked at the class for one last time, turned his head with a swish of regret for his inability to exact his vengeance and walked off. And that was the last I ever saw of him. 

Ah, doesn’t it just make one glad; that instead of having a job that makes the lives of others miserable daily, I have a choice of bringing sunshine to the hearts of others. 

Ah… smiling faces