Sunday, April 6, 2014
It was not missing MH370's black box resonated alert but my dad's call at that night. For few days I was not in telephone line, he might be kinda anxious. Well, it had a reason, simply just because my mobile phone lost its buzz. When it got the vibe, my dad's voice was already there.
He then started the convo, deliberately asking "What happens, son?" gently. As always, he has no more words than an usual intro, a distinct voice compared to Mom's call in which she goes straight to the matter. No later than a minute, he tried, though kinda awkward yet still subtle, asking another questions. Some of it were just the same as he used to. But that night he added a quiz, "How's your choice?". Sounds vague, until then I got the point, he meant my vote belonging to whom.
This year's election is the second term of mine to celebrate the democratic euphoria as real. And my dad's curiosity about my vote is no big surprise. But not until I deliberated my ballot. He was still wondering the reason behind my cast, of course he would be fine to listen my explanation. Then I quested his voice in return. Claiming himself as silent supporter of those politicians, ranging from newcoming competitor to old-fashioned icon on TV, made me a little bit surprised. Knowing that mine and him is in opposite side, he offered me a chance to complain. But I refused, I chose to make a deal that we agree to 'disagree' on our own instead. Sounds fair right?
His point of view is mostly influenced by local newspaper, TV news but almost no internet. He is a maiden of buzzfeed. The only thing I know about him and his acquaintance with internet is Facebook. He might be overdue. He is a sort of bloke who still pertains traditional way of circulated accounts. Sitting with neighbors with local printed newspaper in hand, he is simply simple person of his own living at hometown where he was born, bred, grown up and is running daily job. To me, his life could be so boring, but frankly I do admire his determination is inspiring. He is the one who always teaches and trains me to think beyond his limitation, being critical, standing-out amongst talents, all things democratically he has inculcated in me even before this country transformed into what so-called recognized juvenile democratic nation. He is the first person who refused the idea of sending me to religious boarding school as many people around us would decide to. Instead he suggested me to run my education in public school where I could befriend many kind of people from different background, though I had to leave home and even until now.
My dad's view in some parts are though still conservative, much intrigued by traditional influence which in my measure is irrelevant. Perhaps I'm too naive, lost translation in his childhood. Thus I try hard to thread his past and my today experience, obviously contrast. But one thing I understand, his vision is solid. He barely knows I never ever live the way he was, how his dad trained him. He knows exactly I supposed to be who I am, not himself nor even his ancestor.
When his phone was offline, I realized that I had to recharge mine, almost running out of power. It has been an hour since we started the talk. Then I think, I would be better to give my vote to candidate who has similar trait with my dad, someone who is able to vision the future and in the mean time is adaptable to underground matter. And of course my vote only belongs to those whose political maturity is unquestionable with humble attitude. No matter what your party flag is. I and my dad would love to look forward what will happen. Coz we'll talk it up later ;-)
Street of Life
|Street hustle of Bogor, near to Train Station|
I have been more than curious to see people's way of life how they run things, from cooking to driving, from sleeping to riding. As a neophyte of neighborhood's bustling life, it is such a guilty pleasure when I desync myself out of the spin despite of my countless endeavours to match the rythm. And out of such livelihood, the 'street culture' is definitely the one I am at my utter inquisitiveness why I still have yet nodded.
Over last four and half years, it has always came relatively conquerable to me to adapt with new style of living. Moving from a dwarf town of an island you probably never ever see on screen to an outskirts of city well known for its long standing history and jardin-like visage at some stops, fellows at my arid yellowish origin land may think I'm blessed by the new place of lush green. But here I am not about upholding royal, folks. I'm just like other ordinary pedestrians who are fully sober we are not on too fascinating runway. Most of times we are like stepping on sherds with non-stop rushing fogs passing by next to us.
Here it is my current hut, few-meter-distant from circuit. Together with other disciples, at no distant we clearly are alarmed sometimes by distracting yet painful roar of failed racer. Pieces of glass, the blood stained, even conflicted argument on who is right among involved convicts, is face of street next door. When sorcery works out, out of sudden it turns into temporal hearse before ambulance cleans up the hot spot no stinks nor random things left. Then people forget it on the next day until the new scene comes over like deja vu, we are reminded. It is so magical!
The circuit next door is our daily pathway, beautiful painted asphalt turning out two-way street divided by four lines borderlessly. It extends as long as miles away from somewhere out of sight to the heart of city which passes by our niche. Don't ever challenge yourself to drive or to ride during busy hours, or you'll be trapped in crazy hell traffic jam. Even though being a pedestrian has no guarantee to be always safe. I'm so jealous of strolling along the sidewalk of Solo city as far as I would, or of crossing the street the way I enjoy most at every crossroad of Yogyakarta with guaranteed traffic light accuration. I also miss to be drowned in the brisk walk of Ginza and to enjoying panoramic view by stepping on sidewalk of Makassar street competing with cars next to me to catch the sunset. But the reality is here and right now.
I remember one of past Fridays at sultry noon, this magical street was full of long queueing cabs and motos covered by unhappy face of sweating blokes, a police in the middle of jungle and was trying his best to ease off the crowd. I attempted to pass by the zebra cross as it is supposed to be, starting from right side to left side approaching a small mini store over there. Out of my glassed eyes, a helmet-covered ghost rider had his costly ride touching my leg and geez! Fortunately he was able to control his accelaration, just my leg chafed. A girl few meters from my standing also experienced the same. Sigh.
Another day perhaps was my another badluck. It was still fresh and the sun was so bright though. I planned that day to have early class. I expected it would be nicer to have myself bridging the two sides as that day was. Unfortunately, as I passed by through the appropriate way (Zebra Cross), out of sudden a happy couple riding moto commuted right in front of my move at crossing pace. I tried to keep a distance avoiding clash, instead of being thankful for in a state of safe, the boy shouted out loud at me with some f*cked spells and the girl who was covered by hijab looked happy innocently the way his boy screamed his mantra while she still stared at me after the plight as they were passing over. You both really scared me and I was still numb, speechless.
As a guest of this town, I expect nothing but please let us be more respectful. There should be no sense of superiority as we all are same, the tax payer and in the mean time altogether users of this highway, just for some miles long. Some of us are true not seating inside Jaguar nor Cadillac nor Valentino Rossi-like moto. Some of us are just daily pedestrians who sometimes should take longer road when it was blocked as few weeks ago when the President and teams crossed by.
This is the true street of ours, not very pretty nor too popular when you name it like most others, away narrower than LIE (Long Island Expressway) but as crowd as it is. And our street has some mentions you can beguile as it brings you to place you name it. Expect us.
Year 2014 is like no other, as it is associated with "Fire" and "Horse" in Chinese calender. Some Suhu and fortunetellers out of the blue appear on TV news in a hot talk to discuss about Indonesia(n)'s destiny within a year ahead. Name of public figures ranging from creepy politician to sensational celebrity highlights the tea time. Indeed, these two occupations may lead you to the peak of illuminating popularity either on good way or ending up in miserable news, being politician or celebrity. Media would love you when you are unusual, the sensational persona.
Above all of it, year 2014 for some after all is "The Game of Thrones" when everyone holds on the sword running into battle like Spartan. It is when every legal Indonesian by law elect their representative to be placed on hot seat who literally will work for the best of society, they say. From residential level to top-notch national scale the citizen will merge into cohort where vote is counted spread off over the country. The voting point is plethora, so is penny to fund the so-called democratic party. Here we legal resident shall take part in.
Election of this year will be held two times, separated by 3-month's distance.The first election which will be held next April is to vote for legislative representative, the second ones deemed as the most frantic event during past five years will pick a figure called as President of Indonesia until 2019 which later ends SBY's incumbency. The new life will start soon.
It is still fresh in my mind, dating back to 1999 when Indonesia's political situation was in transformation. It was the year when campaign surging. I was an elementary student by that time. Mass went down to the street to show off their support to certain party. It was the zero point of further milestone of being democratic country. I remember, there were three major parties competing at election. Red, yellow, and green, these colors that dominated the pouring mass perfectly like rainbow. It was also the time when I got my first candy, T-Shirt, lighter, and many kinds of souvenir covered by party symbol. All those items were given by random people who were on the street during the campaign days. I and other fellows as just other kids were so excited collecting such stuffs. TV news mostly aired the dramatic transformation of political life, we kids even had less choice for cartoon. Bear in mind, at that time private TV channel was not as bloomy as today, internet was not as tremendous as few years later. So, spending much of time as the way my dad used to: reading daily newspaper, watching news channel, collecting incumbent ministers and president poster (replacing it when the turn is over), discussing the current issues, but still we don't belong ourselves fanatically to certain party or group. To me and my dad, let God the only one knows what/who we vote for inside small voting chamber. Me myself even don't know to what/whom my dad's choice belongs to. We are much more comfort as political analyst during tea time by our own way, as an intermezzo in the mid of rushing life.
And today, much of things have changed, really changing. The political life significantly is turning (in my opinion) more mature and dynamic. Voices from grassroots are even so sounding. Thanks to the invention of internet and rapid growing online forum that today the citizens can express their notion. It is such surprising that think-tankers now are flourishing, though some of it with anonymous credit.
It has been 15 years after my candy, what a time! Now my concern definitely is extending. As most recent I have been experiencing insomnia, I kill the night by watching live streaming news channel from many countries randomly. Last night my choice fell to Sarajevo based Aljazeera Balkans. There was an hour documentary about West Papua Freedom Movement aired to cover former Yugoslav countries. As, news enthusiast, I was so excited as the channel discussed about something that is familiar to me, nevertheless from outsider's perspective. It was about two reporters who traveled to West Papua Province lurking to interview and documented the West Papua Freedom Movement activities secretly, from the way how the movement undergoes the mission to traditional ceremony of independence. Once the leader was holding online conference in the middle of isolated area claimed as their base with the Guyanese fellows committed as loyal supporter of their independence. There was also a moment when the Aljazeera team and the movement leader passed by the police and army barrack by riding car without getting caught as they have some people working as intelligence. Short documentary was also displayed recorded at separated time series when the police and the movement activist clashed in riot. At the end of documentary, another separated video inserted to the whole 60-minute that broadcasted an interview with an Indonesian spokeswomen who claimed the movement is illegal and against the Indonesia's sovereignty and international law as West Papua is recognized a legal part of independent Indonesia.
Well, the two sides are insisting with their stance. One thing that I highlight from the movement side is the matter of social injustice which they claim discriminating their group, the clash involved in with police is the act of response. It is also claimed that they feel isolated and undergoing aliened life on their own land.
In commemorating with the 2014 election of Indonesia, the new leader (President) and legislative representative at hot spot area are expected to sit together with the freedom movement member discussing even much deeper the best solution. The sooner it is solved, the better life in West Papua comes into reality. I do really wish the voters not only considering to elect the leader by their capability at certain areas of expertise nor by illuminating promise/appearance, instead it should be well considered those who are associated with wholly prodigious leadership trait in much aspect.
Who's gonna be the next? 2014 is on fire :-)