Attn: Jakarta People (Jakartans?)

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Jakarta - Grand Indonesia Mall
Picture was taken at Grand Indonesia Mall, Jakarta.

I have a hard time taking pictures at Jakarta. Everywhere I go, the security or the employee always ended up telling me not to take any pictures at their properties. The problem is, they allowed people who take pictures using compact camera. What is this? A discrimination against SLR camera users?

For your information, not all SLR camera users are professional who get paid for taking pictures. Some of us are pathetic enough to consider taking pictures of mundane objects and strangers as our hobby. Not only that, we are willing to shelf out big bucks for the equipments. How sad are we?

So, Jakartans, next time you see us, instead of prohibiting us from taking pictures, you should have pity on us and give us full access to your property. Not only that, you should also offer to pose for us. With all the pain and the sacrifice that we endure, I think that's the least that you can do.

Got that? Good.

Maybe she would value a robot more than a daughter ...

Saturday, November 8, 2008

Conversation during lunch:
Mom: So, should we cook bistik (Dutch: biefsteak, English: beefsteak) or chicken soup for dad?
Me: Chicken Soup!
Mom: Oh, but I've already asked Bik Yah to buy the ingredients for bistik.
Me: ... so, why did you even ask?

Late Saturday afternoon at work:
Mom: Me (my nickname), if you want to leave early from work that's ok.
Me: No, that's ok, it's almost closing hour anyway.
Mom: That's ok, just leave early, or do you want to go to Bonnet first and do the grocery?
Me: No, I want to go out and take pictures after work.
Mom: But, it's cloudy outside. So, Bonnet? *grinning*
Me: *sigh* Fine...

I swear this happens all the time. Imagine the psychological impact it has on me! Maybe I should consider seeing a shrink. Hmm, it might be hard to find one in Surabaya, and I definitely don't want to be placed at Menur instead.

Note: Menur, a shorthand for Rumah Sakit Jiwa Menur (Menur Mental Assylum), a place where they throw people with mental illnesses in Surabaya.

So, the question is: Is it just my mom, or is this a common thing for moms?

Why Mean Streets is such a damn good film

Friday, November 7, 2008

If I'm forced to describe Mean Streets in one sentence, I would say that it's a helluva fun film about bad people doing bad things. Not that helpful, I know, but that's how I see the film.

Mean Streets is the film that catapulted the career of Scorsese and may I say, deservingly so. Some people have now considered him as the greatest director alive and although I'm not in full agreement, I can definitely see their point.

The great thing about Mean Streets is its energy and its rawness. It's a very stylized movie with great dialogue and great rock and roll soundtrack. I believe Scorsese was the first to use pop music as soundtrack and I wholeheartedly thank him for that.

I was surprised when I found myself enjoying this movie more than Scorsese's other works. By all means, Taxi Driver and Raging Bull are superb movies. But the heart of Scorsese is in the stories of the Italian American neighborhood and that means films such as Mean Streets and Goodfellas.

In my book, Mean Streets wins over Goodfellas. Watching Mean Streets, you can feel that Scorsese was just in the process of finding his directing style. It's less polished than Goodfellas, but that's exactly why I love it more.

Here is my most favorite scene from the movie. The really good stuff comes around minute 3:20



Have you ever seen a fight scene in any other movies that feels this real? Did you notice the crude movement of the camera when it's zooming in on the boys or when it's following them? Awesomeness!

And not to mention the excellent dialogues. Here is when the boys decide that mook is such a terrible insult:
Johnny Boy: Hey, why don't you lower the jukebox, I can't hear nothin'.
Joey 'Clams' Scala: Hey, the girls like the music loud.
Johnny Boy: Girls. You call those skanks girls?
Joey 'Clams' Scala: [to Charlie] Hey, what's a matter with this kid, huh?
Johnny Boy: Hey, there ain't nothin' wrong with me my friend, I'm feelin' fine.
Charlie: Keep your mouth shut.
Johnny Boy: You tell me that in front of this asshole?
Joey 'Clams' Scala: Alright, alright, we're not gonna pay. We're not paying.
Jimmy: But why? Joey, we just said we were gonna have a drink.
Joey 'Clams' Scala: [Joey interupts] We're not payin', because this guy, this guy's a fuckin' mook.
Jimmy: But I didn't say nothin'.
Joey 'Clams' Scala: And we don't pay mooks.
Jimmy: Mook? I'm a mook?
Joey 'Clams' Scala: Yeah
Jimmy: What's a mook?
Johnny Boy: A mook, what's a mook?
Tony DeVienazo: I don't know...
Johnny Boy: What's a mook?
Jimmy: You can't call me a mook!
Joey 'Clams' Scala: I can't?
Jimmy: No...
Joey 'Clams' Scala: [pause] I'll give you mook!

Mean Streets is the quintessential Scorsese movie, and if you want to see why Scorsese is worshiped by so many people, you just have to watch this movie!

Heck, I don't mind watching it again with you :)

Link: imdb.

on House Maids, Colonialism, and Conscience

Thursday, November 6, 2008

One of our maids didn't go back after Lebaran. Well, she did go back about 2-3 weeks after Lebaran to pick up her clothes. But she received enough rants and reprimands from my mom that I'm sure she won't ever want to go back to work at our house at any cost.

It's probably for the best. She was a bit on the lazy side and she was being disrespectful to Bik Yah. Bik Yah is the true master of our house. Once, I was even thinking to create a spin-off from the popular TV show 'Suami-Suami Takut Istri' (Husbands Afraid of Wives). I would call it 'Majikan-Majikan Takut Pembantu' (Employers Afraid of Maids). The screenplay would be inspired from my experience at home the day before. Easy breezy money.

Bik Yah has been with our family for more than 10 years. She's never been married and both her parents have passed away. In a way, she thinks of us more as her family just as we treated her more than just our maid.

Bik Yah doesn't listen. We fight a losing battle on our mission to have her dishes less salty. Everytime, after eating her meals, we would tell her,
Oh my God, Bik Yah, it's too salty! Do you know that people could die from eating too much salt? Can you please make it less salty next time?

She would just reply lazily,
Oh, too salty? That's too bad.

That's all she does though. Come the next meal, it would be salty as usual and we would do the same routine again. Nothing ever changes. We often wonder why we even bother telling her. We will still say it nevertheless. It is us pretending that we have any say to things that enter our body.

Sometimes, we even assume that she's doing this for our health sake. You see, both my mom and I have low blood pressure, so Bik Yah is only being thoughtful when she adds that extra heap of salt when cooking. I know... the lies we say to ourselves.

We often get chastised by Bik Yah. She would lecture my mom from buying things that are too expensive from the grocery store. She'd also lecture me if I skip meals or not eating the food that she has made for me.

Sometimes, when she makes mistake and receives some lecture from my mom, I would involuntarily release such ugly and evil laugh of which I have no ability to stop. My mom would then stop lecturing, and both her and Bik Yah would look at me with the look of disbelief.
Mom: Dear God, is this really my child?
Bik Yah: Poor nonik (nickname for me), she seems a bit loopy. Maybe she needs more salt.

Bik Yah however, is very loyal to her friends. She would defend the other maids even if the reason my mom lecturing them is their rude and disobedience to Bik Yah. Such is the enigma of Bik Yah.

And so, we are looking another maid for a replacement of the foregone maid. Her main job is pretty much to assist Bik Yah doing the house chores and keep her company during the day. So, we made a phone call to the to-go-to person for this maid business. Last Sunday, he arrived with a guy and 2 children.

My mom and I were on our way out, so we both met them at our driveway. The guy brought forth the older child and introduced her to us:
Hi, this is my niece. She's 16 years old, no ... 14 years old. She doesn't go to school anymore, so I figure that it's better for her to help around here rather than sitting idle at home.

My jaw was probably dropped for a good 30 seconds or so before I remembered to close my mouth shut. Here, in front of me, was a kid that is way shorter than me, and peeps, I am short. She was carrying a backpack that covered her whole backside. She had a blank stare, completely oblivious of the whole situation. My mother would later call her as piyek (a chick, indicating her young age and her greenness). My estimation... she is no older than 10 years old, 12 years old would be stretching it.

While her uncle was trying to convince us to hire her and her little brother was making circles around us while giggling endlessly, my mind wandered...
Is this thing even legal?

If we employ her, will we be sued by the Komnas HAM (human rights committee) and Komnas Perlindungan Anak (children protection committee)? Will we replace Syekh Puji as the headline filler?

Can employing her be categorized as slavery and therefore put us with the likes of Dutch and Japanese during the colonialism era?

I can totally imagine Bik Yah afraid of telling her around and instead treating her like a queen, which will make her position higher than us, her employers. My mom will try to order her to water the garden and she would hurt her little fingers from pressing the tip of the hose, trying to increase the water pressure. Her uncle would come marching, together with Kak Seto (the head of Komnas Perlindungan Anak) and demand the best medication that money can have or else we will be on the newspaper headline the next morning.

Luckily, my mom told the uncle a straight no as the answer, noting her young age and her petite figure as not suitable for the tasks in our house.

As they left, I can't help but wonder where she will end up with that kind of uncle as her guardian. Will she be employed at other household or will she work at the street selling newspaper or worse, begging.

As I imagined worse and worse scenarios, I wonder if we should have employed her instead. She could help around a bit and she can go to school during the day just like kids around her age do. Sure, we will be further ignored by Bik Yah, but we're used to it by now.

But who am I kidding, taking care of another human being will be the last thing on my mom's agenda during this hectic moment in our family. And I know that this is just my impulse saying, further consideration would deem this idea as unrealistic and foolish thinking.

But there seems to be something wrong. Should I have done something? Can I do something? Do I want to do anything?

Conscience can be such a terrible thing to have.

I voted!

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

November the 4th has finally arrived. Today is the first time I exercise my rights of living in a democratic country and vote to elect the leader that will bring the changes we all hope for.

So who did I vote? No, I didn't vote for Obama. Nor did I vote for McCain. Uhmm, so who did you vote peyo?!?!?

Sadly, I'm in no position to vote the leader of the United States. What I have the right for is to vote the leader of East Java province, Indonesia. Hooray!

So, here's the background. It's the second round of election. There were 5 candidates in the first round, and it has now been reduced to 2 candidates.

And here are the candidates:


So, who did I vote? Well, let me first give you the reasoning behind my decision:

1) Khofifah doesn't have any nickname. Karwo has a cool nickname: PakDe Karwo (Uncle Karwo).

2) Khofifah's ads suck, the same goes for her public speaking skill.

3) Karwo's ads are more tasteful, and he chose a very funny and easy to remember slogan: Coblos Brengose (Prick The Moustache).

4) Khofifah is backed by Megawati. I don't like Megawati.

5) Gus Dur, who elected Khofifah as his minister during his term, has turned his back against her and backs Karwo instead. I like Gus Dur.

6) This picture:



And so, after thoughtful consideration, I voted the candidate that I believe will be best suited to lead my province:


I decided to nyoblos brengose (prick the moustache)!

No final decision yet as to who wins the election. But I will update the post with the final result.

Surely I hope that Karwo will win, but not because I feel strongly for him. It's more like the feeling after picking a team or a horse to win the race, but without placing any bet on it. I will be happy if the team or the horse actually wins, but I won't cry over it if it loses.

So, how do I feel after exercising my rights to vote for the very first time? This street poet says it better than I ever can:

Picking a girlfriend/boyfriend is better than picking a governor

Amen brotha!

Maboroshi no Hikari

Sunday, November 2, 2008

The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation.
Henry David Thoreau

Maboroshi no Hikari (1995) tells a story of Yumiko, a young widow who tries to make sense the death of her husband. She remarries again and finds joy and peace in the daily life, but she still can't stop questioning why her husband killed himself.

Maboroshi is a quiet and beautiful story. There are very minimal conversations and most of them are just daily conversations. We only sense the pain, the struggle, and emotion of Yumiko through her body language, her quiet contemplation when she's alone, and her involuntarily drift from her daily chores.

The star of the movie is the beautiful cinematography. The camera doesn't move. It decides the angle it will take for the particular scene and stays there. Most of the time, it decides to stay distant and at a low angle. It works really really well. Each scene is beautiful. The composition, the lighting, and the shadow are just right. I also love the small details that the director, Hirokazu Kore-Eda, emphasizes on many of the frames.

Watching this movie is like watching a play or reading a poetry. You become an active observant during the film. You empathize with Yumiko and you try to understand what she's thinking at that moment. You also appreciate scenes after scenes as if you are a museum attendance who can't help but admire the beautiful paintings on the wall.

I have to say that it is very refreshing to watch a film that really appreciates life for what it is; the struggle, the joy of the moment, and the acceptance of things unknown.

Since a picture speaks louder than words, below are some of my favorite images from the film (note that it was very hard to reduce it down to only 16 images):

maboroshi no hikariYumiko is saying goodbye, not knowing what happens next

Reflection of Yumiko

Yawned

maboroshi no hikariThe first night together

maboroshi no hikariSake at the foreground, party at the background

maboroshi no hikariView from the kitchen

maboroshi no hikariPerfect lighting and composition

The reflection

Children playing

One of the pillow shots - a rest/segway before the next scene

maboroshi no hikariYumiko's source of joy

Beautiful

Grandfather and grandson

maboroshi no hikariA slit of light

maboroshi no hikariAlone at the bus stop

maboroshi no hikariMy most favorite scene: silhouette of a funeral procession that Yumiko followed

Apology for the image quality, it breaks my heart but the only copy I have is a low resolution.

link: imdb