After an exhaustive battle between her husband and her family, intrusion by the federal government, media coverage, raising questions about US regulation, and possibly a new meaning or nuance for "pro-life" and "pro-choice", Terri Schiavo finally died. It's a pity she never had a chance to welcome the angel of death in an appropriate condition: her loved ones gathering together around her bed, praying for her, comforting her. And it is shockingly disgusting to watch that even after her death, this family feud remains present with both sides brawling over her ashes.
Isn't it ironic that those who are supposed to provide you the most enjoyable journey toward eternity are instead cursing and stabbing on each other? I strongly believe that Terri, as much physically unconscious she might have been for seven years, could somehow sense the bitterness and hatred around her.
May the Divine One bestow upon her soul peace and serenity.
Terri Schiavo Dies
Chatting Jahiliyah
Dalam perjalanan pulang saya teringat awal pergaulan saya dengan chatting, beberapa tahun lalu. Waktu itu saya belum lama bersentuhan dengan dunia maya dan hal tercanggih yang bisa saya lakukan adalah mengirim dan menerima email, serta ber-"selancar". Setelah beberapa kali teman-teman saya menyinggung soal chatting dan "bawel" saya memutuskan untuk mencari tahu cara chatting dan menggali informasi mengenai mIRC.
Omong-omong, chatting pertama saya justru bukan via program mIRC, melainkan pada sixdegrees. Pernah dengar? Pernah lihat? Pernah pakai? Sekedar informasi, situs ini -- yang sekarang muncul kembali setelah mati suri bertahun-tahun -- boleh dibilang embrio Friendster, dengan konsep yang -- waktu itu -- persis sama: menghubungkan satu pengguna dengan pengguna lain ala MLM. Tapi menurut saya tampilan sixdegrees senior ini lebih canggih daripada bentuk Friendster mula-mula. Di samping bulletin board, sixdegrees juga menyediakan feature semacam kotak pesan (saya lupa namanya, tapi pendeknya tempat pengguna lain bisa menitipkan pesan untuk kita.), dan ruang wicara dengan pilihan HTML maupun Java. Saya terang pilih Java yang lebih kaya rona dengan macam-macam emoticon. Seingat saya hampir tidak ada orang Indonesia lain yang menjadi pengunjung tetap ruang wicara sixdegrees. Dan meskipun sixdegrees kemudian lenyap dari peredaran, saya memperoleh dua teman baru, seorang India dan seorang Malaysia, yang sampai bertahun-tahun kemudian masih kerap menyapa lewat media obrolan lain atau email. Sang India, Murali, menelepon dari Dubai untuk mengucapkan selamat tahun baru, dan beberapa bulan lalu mengirimkan undangan pernikahannya ke saya. Sampai sekarang dia masih memanggil saya dengan sebutan favoritnya: "Pretty". (Tentunya ini menjadi sebutan favorit saya juga, soalnya tidak ada orang lain yang memanggil saya Pretty, hehehee...). Si orang Malaysia? Hm. Pertemanan kami putus setelah satu insiden yang tidak suka saya sebutkan di sini.
Pertama kali saya masuk #bawel, saya bingung dan merasa tersisih. Para chatter, yang jumlahnya ratusan, kelihatannya sudah saling kenal dengan baik. Saya mengetikkan kalimat pembuka, dan tidak ada satupun yang membalas. Semua percakapan berlangsung sangat cepat.
Setelah beberapa lama coba sana-sini, ada tiga kanal yang kemudian menjadi tempat parkir tetap saya: #ungu, #violet, dan #asiacafe2, semuanya di dalnet. Saya iseng-iseng masuk #ungu semata-mata karena saya memang suka warna itu. Ternyata chatter di sana tidak sebanyak di #bawel, dan setiap orang menyambut saya dengan ramah. Demikian juga di #violet (tempat saya bermain scramble... wah, rasanya sudah lama sekali!), dan #asiacafe2, yang isinya rata-rata orang Malaysia (saya tidak kapok berteman dengan orang Malaysia kok). Kopi darat sudah pernah saya lakukan beberapa kali, dengan teman-teman #ungu. Saya bahkan masih ingat beberapa di antara mereka walaupun sudah bertahun-tahun tidak bertemu lagi di alam maya maupun nyata: Acel alias Nopai yang cantik (nama aslinya Novi), Ponai yang orang Cirebon, Iblis Pemetik Bunga alias Dezigh alias Sofyar yang ternyata memang sangat kocak, Angel yang masih ABG, Irene "Reinheardt" yang tomboy, Tono yang lama tinggal di Houston dan super cuek serta gemar berdiskusi politik, dan Brian, satu-satunya ex-#ungu yang relatif sering bertemu dengan saya lama setelah kanal itu praktis tidak ada lagi. Dan Andi "Belutz" yang tidak pernah saya temui secara fisik, tapi menjadi teman bicara tetap, dan sekarang juga seorang blogger yang cukup aktif.
Kanal asiacafe2 juga memberikan kesan yang cukup dalam buat saya. Saya rasa saya termasuk yang tertua di antara mereka, mengingat banyak di antara mereka yang masih kuliah, sedangkan saya waktu itu sudah bekerja. Toh itu tidak menghalangi saya untuk menikmati keriaan dengan mereka. Saya mengambil peran gadis centil dengan kerap merayu-rayu seorang chatter lain yang memakai nama "Dark". Dark (saya tidak bisa ingat nama aslinya) biasanya membalas dengan kalimat pedas menolak habis-habisan, sementara saya tidak putus asa "mengejar". Saya selalu memanggil Dark dengan sebutan afektif, sementara Dark menyebut saya "Crocodile". Drama demikian rupanya menjadi hiburan tersendiri bagi kami semua, sehingga saya dan Dark menjadi nominator pasangan "AsiaCafe King and Queen" tahun itu. Apa deskripsi mereka tentang saya? "Caranita: she is a cute Indonesian who always tries to get her hands on him...". Betul, "Caranita" adalah nama chatting yang selalu saya pakai di jaman jahiliyah itu.
Tidak heran kan kalau saya benar-benar menikmati chatting. Lah wong langsung dianggap bagus, hehehehe...
Lewat media chatting lain yang sempat sangat populer, ICQ, saya memperoleh kawan-kawan baru juga. Ingat kan bunyi "e-ow!" waktu seseorang mengirim pesan ke kita? Perkenalan saya dengan seorang sobat baru saya, Victor, dimulai dengan pesan "e-ow!"-nya yang berbunyi: "Mau ngobrol gak? Gue lagi bosen nih." Balasan positif dari saya mengawali keakraban kami yang sudah mencapai usia lebih dari dua tahun.
Setelah menjadi veteran dunia obrol maya, dan seiring dengan pertambahan usia, saya menjadi bosan dengan kanal-kanal mIRC. Apalagi setelah banyak hal menarik lain bermunculan: Yahoo Messanger, Friendster, Slate dan blog. Tapi ada kalanya juga saya, waktu pikiran sedang berat, masuk ke salah satu kanal untuk menghibur diri beberapa menit. Dengan memakai nickname menggiurkan tentunya, seperti "ce_gatel_pengen" atau "ce_HBL_cari_co". Mudah diduga, dalam hitungan detik, serentak 20 jendela pesan pribadi muncul dengan beragam pesan. Ada yang terang-terangan menembak: "Mau ML?", meninggalkan nomor telepon genggamnya, atau yang masih sopan menggunakan kalimat standar: "Apa kabar? A/s/l".
Ada saat-saat saya merindukan waktu-waktu lalu, ketika chatting masih menjadi salah satu hiburan utama. Dan kangen dengan teman-teman virtual saya.
Namun kini tinggal tanya
Di mana mereka
Aku bertanya
Di mana mereka
Kuharap s'lalu
Bahwa saat ini mimpi mereka telah terwujud
Dan kadang datang resahku
Adakah mereka juga bertanya
Di mana diriku....
Saya ingin tahu apakah teman-teman mIRC saya ini juga membuat blog. Saya ingin mendengar kabar mereka. Mereka bagian dari saat-saat ringan yang paling menyenangkan buat saya.
The Cry of the Children
Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,
Ere the sorrow comes with years?
They are leaning their young heads against their mothers,
And that cannot stop their tears.
The young lambs are bleating in the meadows,
The young birds are chirping in the nest,
The young fawns are playing with the shadows,
The young flowers are blowing toward the west -
But the young, young children, O my brothers,
They are weeping bitterly!
They are weeping in the playtime of the others,
In the country of the free.
Do you question the young children in their sorrow,
Why their tears are falling so?
The old man may weep for his tomorrow,
Which is lost in Long Ago;
The old tree is leafless in the forest,
The old year is ending in the frost,
The old wound, if stricken, is the sorest,
The old hope is hardest to be lost:
But the young, young children, O my brothers,
Do you ask them why they stand
Weeping sore before the bosoms of their mothers,
In our happy Fatherland?
Elizabeth B. Browning, "The Cry of the Children"
The Big Apple
How do thou dump me? Let me count the ways...
I've always liked the tunes, but when I got the chance to read the lyrics... well...
Don't write a letter when you want to leave
Don't call me at 3 a.m. from a friend's apartment
I'd like to choose how I hear the news
Take me to a park that's covered with trees
Tell me on a Sunday, please
Let me down easy
No big song and dance
No long faces, no long looks
No deep conversation
I know the way we should spend that day
Take me to a zoo that's got chimpanzees
Tell me on a Sunday, please
Don't want to know who's to blame
It won't help knowing
Don't want to fight day and night
Bad enough you're going
Don't leave in silence with no word at all
Don't get drunk and slam the door
That's no way to end this
I know how I want you to say goodbye
Find a circus ring with a flying trapeze
Tell me on a Sunday, please
Don't want to fight day and night
Bad enough you're going
Don't leave in silence with no word at all
Don't get drunk and slam the door
That's no way to end this
I know how I want you to say goodbye
Don't run off in the pouring rain
Don't call me as they call your plane
Take the hurt out of all the pain
Take me to a park that's covered with trees
Tell me on a Sunday, please
You know it is going to happen sooner or later. You have sensed it for quite some time, yet you are too afraid and in denial to face the naked truth. Suddenly, at a point of time which you can't really figure out, there is an unabridged gap between you. The more you try to shorten the distance, the further he is beyond your reach.
You may force yourself to pop the one million dollar question first, in a face-saving way: "Are we still together?" that actually translates: "Do you still want me?" Of course you would never say the latter one, it is too dreadful for both your feeling and ego. At least when you ask about the state of your relationship, you could project an image of a cold-hearted bitch, never afraid of changing lanes. (That would depend on how you present it, for sure). And ready to start anew (hopefully). It will hurt, but you still can have that rare opportunity to feel the slight pleasure of seeing him uneasy with such question. No more are you submissive to the power of his megawatt smile (or beautiful eyes, luscious mouth, even stupid expression, you name it). Or so you wish.
You could also wait until he tells you. Which could take forever. He might never tell you. He simply disappears from your life, and -- if you are lucky enough -- in a few months is rumored or spotted with another lass. If you're not that lucky, it will be, like, a few days. Leaving you with heartache AND humiliation, particularly when it seems like he has made public announcement on your detachment way before his dismission.
Or, as a gentleman, he comes to you and says: "We have a problem. We need to talk." The conversation will consist of hundreds of reasons why you two can't and are not meant to be together. Since you have thought of it over and over again prior to that very moment, you have prepared your arguments. But you know that they go nowhere, simply because he has made his mind.
Either way, parting hurts. Can you choose the way to be dumped? Is there a proper, nicer, less painful way to get rejected? Unless you don't save all the space in your heart for him, I doubt there would be. Not even on a Sunday.
Wolfowitz
One of the most-talked about issues these days (in addition to Social Security, a shot committed by Brian Nichols, and a hundred other news) is Wolfowitz' nomination for heading the World Bank. You think Indonesian government-politicians have a weird way in appointing persons for certain positions? Well, Americans are even more amazing in the sense that people could somehow be easily transported from one post to another regardless of their current/previous work. Prior to his new assignment as the Deputy Secretary of State, Robert Zoellick, was the US Trade Representative (equal to Indonesia's Trade Minister). Apparently he had worked with the State Department long before he became the USTR. And, in line with the path most American high dignitaries take, in betweens official employment he has also served in various giant corporates. Interestingly, one of them happens to be none other than Enron.
Now, back to Wolfowitz. Joel Achenbach made a hillarious comment on his blog: " Wolfowitz to the World Bank? Does that mean we will invade poor countries pre-emptively, BEFORE they can default on their loans?". Wolfowitz has been more than "willing" and frequent in emphasizing his strictly neo-con (or so people label) stance in many issues. (OK, OK, you all are familiar with that, you don't need me to tell you this). And I have to admit that I laughed quite aloud reading it. On the other hand, and this is somehow overtly overlooked by Indonesian people, Wolfowitz is also one of the strongest Indonesian supporters in DC. It is not something you can take for granted, because he only served one term of ambassadorship in Indonesia (and a very popular one!), and he had divorced Claire, a devout Indonesian sympathizer.
In contrast with what you guys read in newspapers or rampantly voiced by the hardliners and fundamentalist groups in our beloved country (and sadly blindly taken by the newspapers!), the US government is actually a close friend to Indonesia. If you need to find enemies here, well, those are the Congresspeople and the NGOs!
Hm, I wonder whether I'd be categorized as a "US agent" after this.
About Being a "Keparat Pemerintah"
A friend reminded me while we had a chat last night: "It IS a big deal if you're not feeling ok at work! Remember the 200 million people you're serving!"
It was our private joke. During our initial chatting sessions, he asked me why I joined the ministry, since I had earned better in the private company I had used to work for. I gave him my two very reasons. First, it suited my educational background (I majored International Relations). Second, and the foremost, while the private company provided me the opportunity to serve its 3,000 employees, working with a government institution would allow me the better chance of preserving the interests of my country and its 230 million people.
It is, of course, an exaggeration, though to a certain extent it does resonate the truth and reflect my idealism. And perhaps pride. It takes a year alone, starting from the preliminary exam from hell, to score a seat in the new batch of Sekdilu. The emotional scale is usually a series of worry-prayer-hope-despair-ignorance-prayer part 2-etc. And another year before one could actually work in that institution.
But that is only the beginning.
Then came the years of struggling and juggling before getting one's first posting. The diplomatic title doesn't really fit the reality at hand, particularly as the bearer must try to make ends meet with unbelievably low income -- even compared to other government agencies! Forget about getting some extra money at work, chances are nil in this department. Unless you are lucky enough to have the job desc that requires you to travel a lot, e.g., being an Indonesian delegation to international organizations (WTO, APEC, UN, etc.). Which also means that you would be doing almost all the works for the Indonesian delegation, and your colleagues from other departments feed you only with one or two paper of raw materials which you somehow have to polish to make it presentable as an "Indonesian position" on a certain issue. In reality, many times the raw materials are so, so raw, you have to add more things and do research on your own so you'll get updated data. And while you are stuck in your room messy with papers, browsing internet for yet some other data, or merely typing the position paper, the other delegates would spend their SPJ in a shopping-fest.
Guess what? When you're home again, you'll read in newspaper all the comments and complaints about how stupid, underqualified, Indonesian diplomats are. Come to think of that, well, yeah, Indonesian diplomats are indeed stupid enough to have themselves work like a horse for other departments' credit. And to be willing to get all the revilement for the imperfect result.
Then you get your first posting. You happen to be posted in the capital of the world's sole, remaining superpower. You are ecstatic at first. And high spirited, eager to make the best out of it. And glad that finally you'll be able to make a decent living.
Time goes by, you go through excitement and frustration, wishes and disappointments, but you love your job, your helpful colleagues and new friends, your great bosses. Afterward you find out that your harshest critics are your Indonesian fellows. When the embassy does a great job, it's taken for granted. When it makes a minor mistake, the whole world would know the very details. After a while, you get used to it. Especially since you have developed friendship with some of them, you tend not to take all the criticisms in person.
Nevertheless, at times, you can't help but wonder why these people always make notions like "diplomats/Indonesian officials live in luxury at the expense of the poor Indonesian people", while they are not in Indonesia, do not pay taxes, and some of them work for the American official media. You often have to keep yourself from blurting out your thoughts to them, so as not to worsen things.
Then you, the Indonesian diplomat who is supposed to live in luxury at the expense of the poor Indonesian people, go home in a subway for you can't afford a new car, and you are still saving for your used car. In your close-to-empty apartment, you browse the internet, and read some messages/postings/articles that condemn the government of Indonesia and reveal the writer's shame of being an Indonesian.
In the end, you are working for the interests of the people who are ashamed of being Indonesians. So much for your idealism.
Tulisan Individual
....
"Jangan! Ini tulisanku sendiri, biarkan saja seperti ini."
Saya peluk kepala ibu saya dan mencium ubun-ubunnya yang beruban. Baru saja saya sepintas melihat konsep posting-nya yang -- seperti biasa -- dipenuhi kesalahan pengetikan. Saya berkomentar: "Wah, habis ini saya edit deh, sebelum di-publish."
Ibu saya langsung menolak. Dan beliau benar. Itu memang blognya kok. Saya juga bukan penyunting profesional yang punya mandat, kewajiban dan keahlian untuk menilai satu tulisan laik baca atau punya daya jual. Lagipula, apa artinya blog tanpa kebebasan menulis sesuatu dengan gaya pribadi memberi ruang pada orang untuk mengekspresikan pikirannya tanpa khawatir kena sensor? Ini juga kan yang membuat kita doyan "nangga" ke blog orang lain: karena kita tahu bahwa kita akan melihat hal-hal yang berbeda-beda sesuai karakter penulisnya. Membuat kita merasa tak berjarak dengan penulisnya, tidak seperti kalau kita membaca tulisan-tulisan di media massa. Kecuali kalau blog itu kumpulan tulisan yang sudah pernah dimuat di koran-koran, heheheheh...
Omong-omong, terima kasih ya untuk teman-teman yang sudah bersedia meluangkan waktunya menengok blog ibu saya, hehehehe... Terharu loh!
My Mom Blogs!
Setelah satu bulan berkenalan dengan dunia maya, ibu saya memutuskan untuk memiliki blognya sendiri. Itu berarti saya, seorang blogger (sok) aktif dengan pengetahuan HTML cekak yang hanya mampu mengandalkan feature yang sudah disediakan oleh host company, berkewajiban memberikan pencerahan mengenai cara menyusun blog pada ibu saya. Akhirnya dengan susah payah, blog dengan tatanan sederhana itu muncul juga.
Silakan (dan mohon) disinggahi blog ibu saya ini. Dan maafkan kesalahan pengetikan yang sering muncul, karena beliau memang tidak pernah peduli dengan hal itu. Dari dulu tulisan tangannya susah dibaca, padahal beliau bukan dokter (walau pernah bercita-cita sebagai dokter). Setelah menggunakan mesin, yang kerap muncul adalah typing error, termasuk waktu menulis SMS. Seperti saya singgung tadi, beliau tidak terlalu peduli. Yang penting, menurut beliau, orang mengerti apa yang ditulisnya.
Terlepas dari isu redaksional itu, menurut saya beliau punya bakat menulis kok. Ini penilaian obyektif loh, meski yang berkenan membacanya bisa menilai sendiri.
Omong-omong, ibu saya masih cukup muda kok, baru mendekati 60 tahun. Tapi keinginan beliau untuk selalu mempelajari sesuatu yang baru sering membuat malu saya yang pemalas ini. Toh pada akhirnya saya kembali tidak peduli juga, hehehhee.... I guess I got that from her!
Another Mat Pithi!
Mat Pithi ancene ngawur. Wis ngerti tah nek SIM sing duweni iku mik SIM Becak, eee ndadak ngawur nyelang motore Dul Kimpong, gae ngojek. Wong Dul Kimponge lagi umyek melok latihan perang-perangan, bagian pencarian dana. (Untung ae dheke nggak melok numpak mobil sing meledak wingenane).
Sedina rong dina, Mat Pithi seneng. Lha yok opo le gak seneng, wong akeh akale. Ngojek milih jam budhal kantoran ambek aplosan pelayan toko. Lho apane gak kesenengen saben-saben entuk penumpang ayu-ayu tur semerbak kebak parfum. Durung olehe kurang ajaran, sering ngerem. Alesanne..."Ah dalan kok akeh lobange ngene se... ". Padune mik kepengin kegencet dari belakang iku opo.
Tapi sial, esuk iku Mat Pithi mblusuk nang dalan satu arah katik saka arah sebaliknya.. Padhahal Sabara Wiyono wis ndhepipis api-api ngeyup nang ngisor Johar pinggir embong. Weruh Mat Pithi mblusuk, terus ae sempritan diemplok, nuli disembul mak Priiiiiiiit... Mat Pithi kaget, "Wah matek aku.... disemprit sulipi rek..." Tapekna, dhasar jujur, tenang-tenang ae Mat Pithi belok mak kluweeerr.. mbalik marani sing nyemprit.
Wis cidhek, motor dijagrak, gak dipateni mesine, buru-buru Mat Pithi mudhun, marani Sabara Wiyono. Ndelok sedilut klambine Wiyono, terus ae Mat Pithi ngguyu ngakak barek ngulungna tangan ngajak salaman.
Mat Pithi: "Lho pena tah, Cak Wi? layak nyemprit aku.. Wah ketok gagah ngono lho, dadi polisi tah?"
Wiyono: "Mana SIM ambek STNK-ne?"
Mat Pithi: "Lho, pangling tah Cak Sampeyan ambek kanca sak bangku jaman SD biyen..? Ojok ngono lah.... wong nyemprit diparani kathik pangling?"
Wiyono dadi bingung, terus nampani tangane Mat Pithi, malah melok ngguyu-ngguyu pas Mat Pithi nggablog gegere, jare Mat Pithi:
"Wis yo Cak... suwun Pena jik eling ambek Aku.. sorry cepet-cepetan iki aku mburu nyeluk dokter kanggo mbah wedok sing lagi kumat pikune..... salam ae gae ojob sampeyan."
Saking bingunge, Sabara Wiyono malah menyampaikan lambaian perpisahan.... Mat Pithi nerusna ngebut bablas liwat jalan satu arah, dari arah sebaliknya.... preeng.. preeennnnng.... (yo ngene iki gayane arek Suroboyo iku... penting penampilan meyakinkan.... polisi mik kenal gara-gara maca "jeneng nggok kesake, langsung diajak salaman tambah di-gablog gegere barang... ngono-ngono polisine nganti lali nek lagi nilang". Hopo tumaaaaannn?)
Hehehehe... padahal guyonan di atas kalau dipikir-pikir ndeso. Tapi yo ben, bukankah arek Suroboyo itu warga dari "the big city with kampung mentality"? HIDUP NDESO!
WC-ne Mat Pithi
Sebenarnya sih ini lelucon lama. Tapi waktu saya baca lagi, karena dikemas dengan bahasa Suroboyo-an, saya jadi ngakak-ngakak dan ngikik-ngikik sendiri.
Mat Pithi lagek pisan-pisan iki numpak montor mabur katene budal nang New York oleh undangan saka kancane. Antara stress amergo bingung durung tau numpak montor mabur
ketambahan stress mikiri bahasa inggrise sing gak patek gablek sidane wenenge munek-munek... mules wis.
Pas transit rodok suwe nang Changi, Mat Pithi mlayu nang WC. Ndilalah nepaki WC-ne rodok sepi.
Durung ae sak menit Mat Pithi olehe lungguh, wis onok suoro saka WC sebelah sing dempet-dempetan: "Piye dik? Apik-apik ae tah?"
Mat Pithi rodok nggumun, bathine: "Lho wong iki koq weruh nek aku saka Indonesia yo?"
Sidane Mat Pithi njawab ambek setengah gelagapan: "Eh... apik... apik"
Gak let suwe, wong sebelah ngomong maneh: "Wis krasa lega durung?"
"Lumayan" jarene Mat Pithi ambek garuk-garuk dengkule.
"Wah podo.. cuma aku saiki onok masalah titik..."
"Masalah opo yo pak?" jawab Mat Pithi.
"Iki lho.. onok wong gendeng ndik sebelah WC-ku sing melok-melok njawab omonganku.. yok opo nek engkok diluk engkas peno tak telpon maneh?"
Sumpah, kalau bisa Suroboyo-an rasanya lebih lucu!
Missing My Friends
I miss my friends. Missing them badly. Iyat, Popay, Ai, Boncel, Prince of Tote, Didit, Andi...
Guuuuuyyysssssssssssss! How are you all doing there? These all online chats, phone calls, emails, and everything else can't compensate our frequent meetings back home! And to think that we would gather again in three years... whew! Dunno whether I can wait that long!
Sometimes I ask myself why I chose this job, which might look "glamour" (eeew....) on the surface but is actually very demanding and consuming. The thing is, I didn't actually choose it. I somehow stepped in, and once I was there, at that time, it seemed like there was no turning back. I know, I know, there is. There always is. And before I realize, it has been five years.
But it is the same job that score me some of the best people in the world. My friends. My haven during the lowest point of my emotional scale. My sustainable resource of knowledge and how-tos, and inexhaustive love.
So I guess, the three year waiting is worth it.
Pejabat Yang Rendah Hati
Selama dua hari ini ceritanya saya diinstruksikan pimpinan untuk "ngintili" Ibu Meutia Hatta yang sedang berada di DC untuk konferensi internasional mengenai perempuan, atas undangan State Department. Saking terkesannya, saya menuruti keinginan hati untuk membuat isian blog tentang beliau.
Jauh dari anggapan umum mengenai seorang pejabat Indonesia, Ibu Meutia halus tutur katanya dan sangat rendah hati. Beliau tidak menolak kegiatan protokoler, walau kelihatannya merasa agak risih. Padahal bukan baru-baru ini saja beliau menjadi birokrat, sebelumnya beliau sudah menjadi pejabat di Departemen Budpar maupun Departemen Diknas. Terus terang ya, ada dua golongan pejabat (termasuk anggota DPR!) yang kerap membuat pusing staf kantor-kantor perwakilan negara: golongan yang menuntut fasilitas macam-macam, dan golongan yang seenaknya melanggar aturan protokoler. Yang terakhir ini mungkin punya pemikiran heroisme sempit: merasa menunjukkan kepopulisan dengan perilaku demikian. Padahal ujung-ujungnya hanya menyusahkan orang-orang yang harus melayani mereka.
Terus terang lagi, kerap kali yang membuat masalah jadi rumit bukan menteri atau pejabat negara lain, tapi para wakil rakyat tercinta. Mungkin karena merasa lebih tinggi daripada rakyat jelata yang direpresentasikannya. Yang betul-betul pejabat (eh, memangnya anggota DPR bukan pejabat ya?) sering lebih sopan dan bertata-krama. Contohnya, beberapa waktu lalu ketika sama-sama menghadiri sebuah acara, Pak Herwidayatmo -- mantan Ketua Bapepam yang sekarang menjadi salah satu Direktur Eksekutif World Bank-- dengan santun mengambil dan menggantungkan mantel-mantel kami di lemari penyimpanan mantel. Padahal sudah ada petugas khusus untuk itu, yang memang tampaknya sedang repot. Sementara saya ingat pernah beberapa kali mengikuti acara internasional bersama-sama sekelompok anggota DPR, yang kelihatannya berpandangan bahwa para anggota delegasi lain -- terutama dari departemen saya -- adalah pelayan yang bisa disuruh-suruh seenaknya. Saya sempat bertanya-tanya apakah departemen saya memang sedemikian egaliternya, sehingga rasanya kok menteri saya sekalipun tidak sedemikian "diraja"-nya terhadap para anak buahnya.
Wah, jadi curhat. Kembali ke Ibu Meutia deh. Saya kagum bahwa beliau masih sempat membuat sendiri pidato-pidato dan pernyataan-pernyataan yang harus disampaikan beliau di berbagai fora. Beliau juga tidak menuntut berbagai fasilitas; sebaliknya beliau berulang-ulang menyampaikan terima kasih atas "kebaikan" kantor ini membantu beliau dalam persiapan mengikuti konferensi itu. Saya senang mendengarkan cara beliau memaparkan program kantornya dengan tenang tapi ada siratan semangat. Mungkin karena beliau juga seorang pengajar, sehingga kemampuan mengkomunikasikan sesuatu sudah cukup terasah. (Di samping memang saya tertarik dengan isu-isu yang digelar kantor beliau, khususnya soal gender mainstreaming).
Seharusnya lebih banyak lagi pejabat seperti beliau. Di kantor saya sih sudah banyak. Entah di departemen lain. Memang, orang pintar minum *beep!*
Friendster
FRIENDSTER:
Old friends, new friends
Never-met friends
Wanna-be friends
Whose friends, anyway?
Geeze, I would be the most ungrateful, hated, isolated person in the world...
I'm nobody's friendddddddddddd... I'm nooobody's frieeeeeeeeeeendddd....
Just like a flower, I'm growing draineeeeeeeddd...
No puppy's lickings, and no buddy's bliiiingggggsssss...
Nobody stands me, I'm nobody's frieeeeeeeeeeenddddddddddd....!!!!!!!!!!
*Apa coba*
Itulah efek samping kejengkelan terhadap diri sendiri. Padahal sama sekali tidak ada hubungannya dengan friendster.
Salah Pilih Teman
Saya pernah percaya bahwa orang bisa "salah pilih teman", "bergaul dengan orang-orang yang salah". Tapi sebenarnya orang berteman baik dengan orang-orang yang sejiwa. Dengan mengutip NH Dini: seperti melihat diri sendiri di cermin, tenteram dalam refleksi raganya yang sudah dikenal baik.
Yang menentukan bahwa seseorang salah pilih teman adalah orang itu sendiri. When you are not comfortable with your friends, then you are not their friend, nor they are friends to you. Key word: comfortable.
Kalau tergelitik, pikirkan. Kalau mau, renungkan. Kalau punya waktu, bantah. Or simply ignore this junk entry :).
Love Quotes of the Day
1. I figure my sister is in love, again. She deserves such dangerously-but-excitingly emotional experience to bring back her old no-problem days, but I am pretty -- no, DEEPLY -- worried about it. I hate to see her fall for another crap after years of devastation. But I also know that I want her happiness more than anything in this world.
2. Although I love my mother unquestionably, sometimes she drives me crazy. And nowadays I've successfully developed my guilty feeling for not making her happy or at least enjoying her life.
3. I've definitely fallen in love with Joel Achenbach. See my writing style in English???
4. And my love for Firefox has grown substantially. I love its cute icons. And particularly now when my IE isn't working!!!