colour of seoul

days in this city were not packed with long hours of walking throughout the city, but i am content that this time i can spend a quality time with best friend of mine. the winter frost is exhilarating and yet there are still a lot to explore. my thought of seoul will linger, fly away across the northeast sky and then stored in the bigger narration of our universe.

interestingly, seoul is somehow beyond my expectation. i thought of a modern city with crowded alleys where people exhibit what the city has offered from the industrious gains. i was thinking of hong kong where tall buildings run to the sky and stand close to each other. i was thinking of those who dress up fashionably but end up the day in small shabby corner on beijing's alleys. the place where modernity and life still stand side by side in a considerably distant. however, my imagination was not the reality. i saw a hilly city by a river, and white skycrapers scattered evenly. each side of the river was full of markets, small cafes, offices and people commute in convenient means of transportation. there were people on streets walking in their winter fashion, cheer up in democratized political system. pop stars of top chart or tv series look so pretty in big posters or lcd. modernity is an inherent status here. for the young generation, it is embedded as they grow up. for older generation, it is an achievement from what they have been through.




modernity also equals to high technology. it is not a mere latest version of a cell phone, but it is showed through the quality of fabric for textiles, a choice of building design, sophisticate stationaries or a simple yet down to earth closet seater. so colorful.

it was only because time constraint, i should restrain myself to explore the city. ah ya, of course the extreme winter was also impeding. i came with unoccupied winter fashion. i got my legs freezing when we have to get of the car and run to our place. it has been awhile for a discomforting winter, though i still can find a fine adjustment in enjoying the cold air. if the sun shines brighter and longer, a promise of a changing season will come. and i could not wait for another opportunity to visit this city some time soon. looking for a color that stick in my mind and conquer a piece of corner in my memory land:

first glimpse of an impromptly morning.

my designtion was confusing and very impromptu. and after 6 hours of flying crossing the continent's eastern part,i am glad to enjoy the chance.

a morning still upon incheon and the vehicle carried us going through beginning of a day towards the bustling capital city. the sun looked pale in its winter cloak and misty winter frost disposed slowly with soft breeze from the north. i felt a bit sleepy but my body seemed to be fully awaken now. i observed this new place as far as i can see, with no high expectation. my eyes caught a dramatic scene when we passes a bridge. above the freezing river, factory's chimneys were lining up and hissing the smoky disposal into the air. it was all in silver. the reflection of pale's sun on the river stood still as the winter conquered. meanwhile on the land, those metal big tubes gave away its digestion toward the morning's sky, the air was so cold, minus 13 and it looked to me that the smoke was freezing in its bulb shape. what a morning. what an industry. it reflected a forgotten spirit to make self-sufficient to themselves.

coto and all the nostalgic memories

my understanding of makassar emerges from the frequent visit to the city since i was a child. that time it was still called ujung pandang. this city is an old trading city back to the colonial period. the seaport was famous of its seafaring ethnic that could reach the cape of good hope in southern tip of africa. aside from this romantic history, i like the city because of some particularities. they are the symbol of how i make friend with the city.

the experience of walking along the somba opu street is the classic one. there are a lot of jewelry stores, because saving gold is traditionally an important investment for the locals. most people consider it as a state of fashion and social status, of course. on the end of the road, there is an old shop that sells souvenirs. the funny thing is, i always feel obliged to visit the shop whenever i come to makassar. it seems to me that the shop is one of the elements that constructs the city. it would not feel like visiting makassar without having oneself visiting the shop. i really like the shop. the location and how it has been the statement of the city. here is the shop:



i often get a pack of traditional coffee from that shop. a personal glimpse from the place makes me recognise makassar closer.

another round of makassar is from coto, the traditional beef soup. although i can find a delicious coto in jakarta, but having coto in a particular food stall in makassar could make one's journey is complete. the green building is packed with many visitors all the time. they serve coto in small ceramic bowl with rice cakes, lemon and spices. the smell of cooked meat mixed with spicy is mouth watering. meanwhile coto is served in white and bigger bowl in jakarta. the similar type of bowl for chicken noddle soup or meat ball soup, or soto, or sayur asem. in metropolitan, they oversimplify things for the sake of efficiency. take a look at this:




the wonderful thing of visiting a place is that getting your personal insight of it. i am sure you have many different frames of makassar, despite all the typical land marks. but this special spot, be it the shop or the ceramic bowl, makes the city closer to you, a part of your memory.

a long journey

the long journey with dai wei has finally reached the epilogue. trapped in his memory for almost a year, i manage to understand that life should be taken seriously. every morning, i went through one or two pages before shower time, the narration sewed by dai wei's reminiscing vision of his past life really has inspired me. to face the day ahead.

yesterday, i closed the last page of beijing coma, with so much passion for life it has injected to my inner self. i really like the author, since i read his travelogue across china, he remains as one of the most adorable author on contemporary chinese literature. this bulky narration of dai wei was so intense that i could not imagine how detail and grandiose a human body could be. how complex the transformation of a society could be amid the generation gap and a missing lacuna in its history. how love could be an eternal realm which only can become another form through madness.

while the sunrise of the new millennium arises, it brings a new hope that to some point, modernization sometimes creates a fragile picture of reality. and only those who awake from the state of comatose will be those who are liberated, enlightened.

an immense detail that could speak with thousand words. thank you, ma jian.

rock the island

flying northward in a local airline in a fine monday morning. the wind blows smoothly. i enjoyed the trip with mix feeling. although my very morning was quite a drama, i am pleased the rest of the morning has greeted me in its glorious way.

we were flying northward, the northern islands dubbed themselves as the northern pearl. the third trip in early december after makassar. we were received in great hospitality. group of dancers in yellow and goldish dresses performed in local spirit and instrument as well. a malay ethnic, those who inhabit some northern part of sumatera island. it was exactly an hour we spent from hang nadim international airport to this air force airport.

this northern pearl isolates herself from the mainland. i was amazed with the remoteness and how it creates a beautiful escape. by looking at the south china sea before us, the water was sparkling in turquoise. with an abundant of sunshine, the busiest sea lanes in the world, in contrast, looked calm and yet proud to be a strategic place in security. despite its high political value, the place has another thing to offer, which is the scattered huge rocks in the beaches, so huge that they looked like the giant menhir coming from ancient ages.

december rain

time surely flies, and year end is coming to town. all december rains come by in the afternoon or morning, but i am still here.

it has been a year since my return to this homeland, and many things have happened and the changes linger. there are more people coming to tjikini street, mostly in early evening. during the weekends, people even has press conference or social gathering, and it makes the place so crowded. it is good though, that the market buys the place. however, in those moments, i miss the old tjikini's morning and afternoon, so silent and only the old man who pull the garbage bin across the street with his orange uniform. now that the visitors are more dress-up with old style glasses and tights, women in gala-dinner-make-up style sometimes are spotted in here. the gravity of this place is getting high profile. that not only the loners come for self contemplation, but also those who yearning for socializing in this cosmopolitan.

it is getting interesting. and despite all the controversy, i still can find a piece of corner in this place, with a little effort and squeezing, of course. the december look on the streets are emerging, an i am still here, going with the evolving time.

a glimpse on the land of gods

my memory of bali is very delicate and unstructured. the first encounter was back when i was a child. it was a family trip when my brother and mother celebrated their birthday there, if i am not mistaken. years pass and the second time i visited it was in the end of 2003 or early 2004, i guess. but i did not spend a lot of time perusing the so called land of gods. i was totally working and hardly got a chance to get out of my room. then people around me come and go to bali, but i do not bother myself to find a personal reason for going there either. i always think that i had traveled there, so it is done anyway.

however, this year i finally get another chance to visit bali. five workdays in great hotel which isolated far from the vivid kuta or so. the pattern remains, i did not have chance to sneak out and enjoy the beauty of bali. it is all good. i think it is great to work in such refreshing environment like in nusa dua. i heard many stories of the must-see places, but in the end i am content with my own gain. some traditional fabric from bali. the pattern is interesting, a bit similar to prints from south sulawesi or nusa tenggara. the different is they are in colorful composition. it is called endek. the shopkeeper explained that the fabric is used around the waist, like saroong. but i have my own vision, it is going to be so much attractive in long dress. traditional fabric is gaining its high reputation these days. many people start to make use of them as part of the modern clothing. and i am happy to find more interesting types or motives of it from kinds of ethnic in this country. my finding of 'endek' adds a significant print to the collection of memory about bali.

the last night of our workdays in bali, we dined at a seafood restaurant located in jimbaran beach. the long summer breeze along the shore really made the ambience. they put groups of wooden table and chairs on the sand with candle light on each of them. true, how romantic. there was a traditional performance on a small stage that facing the beach where tables for visitors were. it was a barong dance, i suppose, that was performing when our group entered the place. the stage had dim lights and simple decoration, quite enough to shape the traditional gate of bali. i find the colorful lights hanging in the outer part of the stage were frantically ironic. a gasp on my heart as my mind suddenly thought of mass industry in the second i saw it. i tried to reconnect with my childhood memory of bali, whether i had this picture of colorful lightballs before during my first visit to bali. i found none.

we sat on a long table, as there were more then 10 people of us. my vision encircled the place. the sound of traditional balinese music came out from a bad quality speaker and echoed to the low waves that reaching the shore. it was out of serenity. it was like a las vegas now, commercial performance to attract the market. the music stopped, then a group of street singers came to tables where the foreigners seating. later i realized they only perform in front of the foreign tourists not the locals, like us. maybe they were not so proud to show how good their english in front of us. i thought we all deserve equal right of entertainment.

the food was good, and apparently was able to make me back on my appetite. always try to look for the good side of the story. i guess the other group nearby our table was also content with the authentic cuisine of this maritime land. i could not identify which country they come from, although i heard many english words all the time. they looked so young, maybe early 20es, because they still have the innocent look on their faces. unpolished brightness lurking from their eyes, and i can sense their high ambition to conquer the world, visit as many foreign lands as they could, liberate their minds as far as they could. so vivid in the night. in a second, i retreated to myself and tried to enlist what i have done when i was in the same years as they are now. not many foreign lands, but i was traveling through lines of words, i guess that time.

the night we went home with the memory of good time in jimbaran, with satisfaction that our job has been successfully done. i believe every one of us had their own picture of bali. mine as well. i wish next time i visit bali, i will find something that more reserved and contemplating, not so commercialized as i saw that night.

happy birthday mom

mom, i love you
you are the light given to me
from the soft womb of life
until i am able to set out free

mom, i wish you happy birthday
may you be happy with the children now
may you always have the smile upon your face
and be the best you can be

i love you mom
for today i would share with you
a gift for you and myself
i have found my soul mate

my lovely mom, i hope you will cherish it
the way i do
i am so grateful for your education
that i know how to give color of my own
i know how to live as i learn

mom, this is my gift

a witness to history

today is a lazy cloudy sunday, and i have walked in through the front gate of the office. the blue tricycle just left along with its smooth sound generated from the gas that fuels its engine. i have a half day shift to complete. through this morning to the mid day, i must stick to the internet and all news it resonates and making the summary of report by the end of the duty. if there is something urgent and related to our interest, i should quickly pass it on to the authority above me so that proper actions will follow.

today, we are witnessing one of the enduring acts in history. the release of pro democracy activist in myanmar covers all the news site and channels. while me whose on duty have to make a report on it. i do not expect that today's shift would deal with a history making part, in fact, it is.

concrete jungle where dreams are made of...

approximately 20 hours of flying, my back felt so stiff and my skin-mostly face skin got dried. the flight across pacific ocean was principally smooth. light turbulence and crowded cabin were very much tolerated, while two stops over made the journey long and exhausting. but in the morning light, a glimpse of new frontier down below on earth, alerted me that the vast continent, a new different encounter beyond my border has come along. tall buildings towering the city.

long before this most awaited journey, i really liked listening to alicia keys' empire state of mind. and i could not believe that i someday can really visit the inspiring city of empire state of mind. it was a true concrete jungle where dreams are made of.

because you are in new york. september, the beginning of autumn and the start of series annual meeting of the united nations. the city became more vibrant with huge variety of human kind. i lived in a one bed room apartment of my friend for a week stay. it was 10 minutes walk to our headquarter, and 5 minutes to the un office. the multilateral atmosphere was so dense, showed in people who walked around the blocks, ethnic clothes, black suit and glasses, high heels, and multi languanges spread through the air of the city. a vibrant week.

my working hours were racing with long hours fatigue, and i could not manage the jet-lag in the first few days. during the days, i must strive to keep my eyes open and not falling asleep and when the night come, i was so fresh and ready to run. it was good in a way though, because during the day my head of delegation would go to the meeting with limited member so i can just stand by in the office. after the meeting in the afternoon-a morning already in asia, my normal biology hour- we must make report and prepare for the next day agenda. and the work continued untill 2-3am. time square and all the broadway lights should not far from here, but i nearly do not have plenty of time to have a look. the last few nights i managed to have a quick sight seeing, enjoying the landmark of new york, a total glimpse. i actually really wanted to see the empire state building, i guess next time.

so it was true. the city is like a jungle, but not filled with trees but towering building. they all made from dreams, for what ever reasons and vision behind. it is the empire state of mind. the translation of your envisioned dream in this world.

new york, autumn 2010.

living tjikini

from the many spots in jakarta, i love tjikini street the most. occupied with many old buildings lining up from the post office to taman ismail marzuki, i always find myself so accessible to eternity, whenever i spend mornings, noons and nights here. i often have myself lost in the window view, whenever raindrops pouring down, or a bread seller cycling in the road.

many acquaintances happen, more and more each day the street gets more personalized.
there are many corners, seats and songs to come by ever day.

going home

some people say "home is where the heart is". so, there might be no clear definition whether it should be a place, a location or simply refers to something abstract, an idea. well, in cases for refugees, they might say those are homeless because they do not have a concrete building to stay and let their lives happen in it. but in cases for those who refuge themselves from any physical definition, a place called home is where you can feel content and satisfied with all you have. and for the word--where the heart is--refers a person that dear to us.

of course, there are many people who we love dearly, but among those special ones, who is the one that make you can not live without. from time to time, we try to deny the truth due to reality does not suit with our inner voice. and thus, we define the soul searching has not ended yet and carried on until we stop to the real home. along the way, we construct what we want to believe, we accept the reality that belongs to us, we cherish people destined to meet along the way, we create new dreams as the sign boards in our journeys. we pick and choose all the details in life in order to make a clear picture of our own imagination. but what if, some day, our truth is being challenged? should we react and reconstruct, or just disregard because nothing is perfect and truth needs a test of time to affirm its prudent. a genuine value of 'our' universe.

once the test is passed, we can convince that is our home. where our heart can rest assured that we are safe to inhibit this world. because in times of trouble and joy, we can always have destination to seek salvation.

loving jakarta

a metropolitan. an egg shell. a massive yard of concrete buildings. a night of stormy star lights. a misty morning of empty streets with burning inspiration.

many months after residing back to jakarta, i finally got the feeling. it is so refreshing to know that one could enjoy this city the way i absorb it now. despite its heavily polluted air, which i discontent so far, the capital indeed has something to open my mind. its people and the way life leads me to reality. this is the place where people going by with motorcycle, of where food stalls selling stirred food with oily pan, of where local dialect narrated from one mouth to another-from one mind to another-.

a place with a particular street, the tjikini street.

if i were asked what is the best thing to describe jakarta, i would say tjikini street.

a one way street, and good atmosphere to sum up all your feeling about jakarta. a little city within the city. it has its own citizen that run their own commercial activities. a place where you can spend one entire day with many purposes and gains only in one street. meeting up with friends, colleagues, strangers, enemies, and lovers. having yourself a contemplating coffee time or cheering up your past in reunion.

but most of all, an afternoon in a cafe, with good companion of coffee and people.

at this moment, one could ask whether the day would crawl as if forever is now and then.