<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343</id><updated>2011-07-28T19:19:39.340+07:00</updated><title type='text'>a girl's stories...</title><subtitle type='html'>little stories from asri's days</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>100</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-5926519666030269071</id><published>2008-09-19T00:59:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T01:08:00.376+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Migrating... Pindahan...</title><content type='html'>It's been three years that I blog in Daysofagirl.&lt;br /&gt;I want to pimp my page, but it would take too much works to make sure that all articles will look the same with the comments. So, as I also feel that I have grown up in a way, I decided to create a new blog and migrate. You can read the "new" me at A for Asri, &lt;a href="http://www.aforasri.blogspot.com/"&gt;www.aforasri.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;, where I go pinky! :)&lt;br /&gt;I haven't written much but I promise that I will write more as I have many things in my mind that need to be shared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ah, ngga terasa sudah tiga tahun aku ngeblog di Daysofagirl. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sudah lama aku pengen mendandani wajah blog-ku, tapi kayany akan perlu banyak waktu buat memastikan bahwa semua artikel dan komentar yang ada di Daysofagirl ngga hilang. Repot! :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Selain itu, aku merasa bahwa aku sudah "tumbuh" dan sedikit berubah, jadi akhirnya kuputuskan bahwa aku perlu blog baru dan pindahan. "Aku" yang baru ada di "A for Asri", &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.aforasri.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;www.aforasri.blogspot.com&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;. Blog-nya pink lho! :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Saat ini tulisannya belum banyak, tapi aku janji akan lebih rajin menulis karena rasanya semakin banyak saja hal-hal yang kupikirkan dan perlu diungkapkan...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Happy Browsing, Selamat Berkunjung! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Salam,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-A-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-5926519666030269071?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5926519666030269071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=5926519666030269071' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/5926519666030269071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/5926519666030269071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/09/migrating-pindahan.html' title='Migrating... Pindahan...'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-7434353554768569952</id><published>2008-08-24T22:35:00.009+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T10:20:45.738+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Think of Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Being far away from the man that I love got me into this song so much. It's a piece from Phantom of the Opera, one of the most touching parts of the whole play.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Every night before I sleep I play this song in my Real Player, at least twice. Sometimes when I wake up I also play it again to make myself feel a little better. I sometimes cry when I listen to it, but I surrender. As much as I miss my man, I realize that there's nothing more I can do except accepting that now and here is my time and space, being far away from my loved one to pursue something that is important too in life; my education. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This morning, as I woke up feeling blue, I realized that the biggest challenge that I face here is not about the syllabus, not about my majors, not about the worries of 15 credits that I take, not about my house, not about my adaptation. I have no issue with those so far. My biggest challenge now is conquering my blues of missing him and my longing for good love and good relationship. Those needs of emotional support are the the ones that I must deal with, and it's a test for my emotional and spiritual maturity. I guess, this is why God send me here for. To learn, not only about Political Communication, but also to learn more about myself, my needs, and how to fulfill them in healthy way without harming my heart... and to surrender.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Somehow human can't have everything in life perfect, thus &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;it is a whole life issue to work on the imperfection, to make it, at least, a comfortable being, as close as possible to our desired ideal setting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Not the ideal setting that I dream of, but the ideal setting that comes from the accelaration of needs, reality and my capacity to afford my needs. Tricky, but I believe this is the way life should be if we want to live happier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So in case of my misery of missing my love, "Think of Me" sang by Sarah Brightman in the Phantom of  The Opera is my middle way. It helps me to acquire the consciousness that hoping that he still think of me is enough for now, as asking him, oe expecting that he would be waiting for me until I am back will be too selfish... All the efforts I can do is expressing my feeling, and keeping good contact with him. Praying for his happiness, wishing that he lives a good life and be well, content and healthy is my daily messages to the universe.  I wish that the Forces will take care of my love. The rest, only God knows how would it be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So, here it go, Think of Me. I copied the clip from You Tube, and you can watch it here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-d444a9f82c2ba6d" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v4.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D0d444a9f82c2ba6d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329872898%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6E67A87E6046F1E36027AD23D85A6C2D4AA2CA2E.4C43331A6A2C0EBB2064DEB7B59C6F308907AFEC%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd444a9f82c2ba6d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DaJkJLQiK_vPpmtlhQYF3z-oVeJc&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v4.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D0d444a9f82c2ba6d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329872898%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6E67A87E6046F1E36027AD23D85A6C2D4AA2CA2E.4C43331A6A2C0EBB2064DEB7B59C6F308907AFEC%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd444a9f82c2ba6d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DaJkJLQiK_vPpmtlhQYF3z-oVeJc&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Christine (Sarah Brightman) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Think of me, think of me fondly,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;when we've said goodbye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Remember me once in a while &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Please promise me you'll try&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When you find that, once again, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You long to take your heart back and be free &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We never said our love was evergreen,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;or as unchanging as the sea &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But if you can still remember, stop and think of me ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Think of all the things we've shared and seen &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't think about the way things might have been ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Imagine me,trying too hard to put you from my mind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Recall those days, look back on all those times,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;think of the things we'll never do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;There will never be a day, when I won't think of you ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Raoul (Steve Barton) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Can it be? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Can it be Christine? Bravo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Long ago, it seems so long ago&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;How young and innocent we were&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;She may not remember me, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;but I remember her ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Christine (Sarah Brightman) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;They have their seasons so do we &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But please promise me that sometimes &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You will think of me...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-7434353554768569952?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=d444a9f82c2ba6d&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7434353554768569952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=7434353554768569952' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/7434353554768569952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/7434353554768569952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/think-of-me.html' title='Think of Me'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-6843155217060817669</id><published>2008-08-18T02:28:00.006+07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T04:08:34.790+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jakarta - Albany, August 2008</title><content type='html'>The long journey to Albany...&lt;br /&gt;I departed from Jakarta with Kris, Alex and Mira. We will take different flights from Singapore. It was a nice flight with Qatar Airways, with pretty good salad and pretty flight attendants. Now we are waiting for flights to USA. More than 30 hours to go to arrive in Albany. Next stops are Tokyo - Chicago - and finally, Albany, NY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Changi Airport, Singapore, 02.40 - 07.15&lt;br /&gt;First transit, sleepy, but we are trying to fight it at the Coffee Beans. I'm having good hot chocolate, and fun talks. The internet connection is good, we only need to register our phone no., and e-mail address to &lt;a href="mailto:Wireless@sg"&gt;Wireless@sg&lt;/a&gt;. I took the photos with my laptop's camera. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SKh-AE4NUdI/AAAAAAAAARA/k7uJY4PoqXY/s1600-h/Picture+37.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235573106592797138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SKh-AE4NUdI/AAAAAAAAARA/k7uJY4PoqXY/s320/Picture+37.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SKh9eOrn9nI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/54MMLVDGlMo/s1600-h/Picture+36.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235572525108819570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SKh9eOrn9nI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/54MMLVDGlMo/s320/Picture+36.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Me 'n my hot chocolate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SKh9JzE1wSI/AAAAAAAAAQw/Ufu94BBhODk/s1600-h/Picture+30.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235572174101004578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SKh9JzE1wSI/AAAAAAAAAQw/Ufu94BBhODk/s320/Picture+30.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Kris, and his journal...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SKh86UuU-EI/AAAAAAAAAQo/AbHoDSwT1qc/s1600-h/Picture+31.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235571908255479874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SKh86UuU-EI/AAAAAAAAAQo/AbHoDSwT1qc/s320/Picture+31.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Mira and Alex in front of me&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We'll move to UA Check In Counter now, hope to get some connection in Narita so I can upload more pictures! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-6843155217060817669?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6843155217060817669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=6843155217060817669' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/6843155217060817669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/6843155217060817669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/08/jakarta-albany-august-2008.html' title='Jakarta - Albany, August 2008'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SKh-AE4NUdI/AAAAAAAAARA/k7uJY4PoqXY/s72-c/Picture+37.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-6006623329423752752</id><published>2008-07-14T14:02:00.006+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T17:10:33.065+07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am Face-hooked!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SHshCYZxJTI/AAAAAAAAAN0/_NhuI84JHkg/s1600-h/facebook1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222804517660206386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SHshCYZxJTI/AAAAAAAAAN0/_NhuI84JHkg/s320/facebook1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;this picture is taken from &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://iebloggcc.files.wordpress.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;here&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm Face-hooked!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I joined Facebook 3 months ago and can't stop trying and adding the applications... at least until 2 hours ago. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I always open FB page whenever I am connected to internet.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I joined the quizzes, sent the gifts and flowers, petted a fluff friends, buying him gifts and foods and minis, took personality tests, joined the cool groups like Fighting Global Warming to "I-have-no-idea-what-is-it-about" group like &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"people who doesn't sleep enough because they stay up late for no reason"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. But I did... join that group!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I signed up to FB as my good friends, Des Pallieres couple, invited me. Then realized that there are many good friends and cool people I know out there who sign up and get connected thru it. I was thinking that nothing was new from this social networking site, and I was hesitated to start it up as I have a Friendster account with more than 300 friends already. 300? hm, it's really NOTHING. There are millions other users of this kind of social networking site who listed more friends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A friend who introduced me much to gift applications was Rose. I started to feel flattered with the roses, chocolate candies or LV bag gifts and wanting to share more to my buddies. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I know I was starting to get hooked by Facebook since my second week after my application. I found more and more people that I lost contact with for several month or years were there in the network. As we accepted the invitation to be connected, we are then able to see the updates of each other's life. I found my friend getting engaged, or married or becoming single or being in "it's complicated" relationship, I found my friend moving from Sudan to Somalia, I found that a friend of mine is now living in NYC with his wife and about to host another friend of us there on the day when I arrive, I found my friend had a haircut, getting stuck at an airport or enjoying their days with orangutan in Borneo... :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The world has been flattening, even in its social networks. The nature of the relationship have been swifted from physical closeness to physical distance, the nature of works and career have been transforming into a vast global connection, where there is need of cutting down physical geographical boundaries. Yet as the people come from where they come from, and move to places they want to move, the line of their movement sometimes cross others' and result to a contact at a sequence of time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;They might be back to their place of origin, or move to new places, then, yet connection has been established, good memories have been endured, and opportunities for future connections are foreseen. The call for connection; the warm feeling of friendship, the need for networking and cooperation, the fun of knowing what's going on are accommodated so well within FB. I recall that it holds the major needs of nowadays' society, to show attention in simple way through gifts, to be admitted at someone with certain character through testimonials, or to raise a social movement through groups. I can see the potential arguments between me and my friend as I join Obama supporter group and he is into Mc Cain for example. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It might look simple for some eyes. However, realizing how the networks accommodate the diverse interests, the liquid relations between millions of people who do not know each other personally but might share very clear identification of who they are and their point of views, their personality type up to their most wanted person in the future, I am stunned. I do find that I found more about the people I know, I did nod as I compare my personality test result to theirs, realizing that knowing them physically didn't show me as clear map as before it shows publicly. Realizing it or not, people tend to open themselves up to virtual world than to the real one. Some of my friends even took the 10 seconds interview application that included a question like "have you ever been caught having sex in public place?", or "do you hold hands in public?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Very often I laughed at my friends answers or applications. Those really make me feel closer to them. No matter how ridiculous I can be sometimes, reading the pages in the FB makes me feel that I am not alone, and I am not a stranger. However, it also feels crazy how people can be so open about themselves while they realize that everyone can access their information. I really would like to know why and how, what are the drives, from the point of view of psychology to culture. Anyone knows?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Yet, like covered in BBC World's Feature Program title Facehooked that I watched sometimes in May 2008, these information that are shared in FB is a great marketing tool. Where else in the world can you have the extra accurate information about your potential market? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So far I don't have any problem at all with my openness in the FB. I select my friends carefully, making sure that they are the ones I really know or that they are in the circle of my friendship as at least we have more than 2 friends in common, and those friends are the one I really know. So far I enjoy searching more about my friends and my ownself through the site's applications, and have some good laughs there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So, my favorite question now is; "do you have Facebook?" :)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-6006623329423752752?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6006623329423752752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=6006623329423752752' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/6006623329423752752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/6006623329423752752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-am-face-hooked.html' title='I am Face-hooked!'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SHshCYZxJTI/AAAAAAAAAN0/_NhuI84JHkg/s72-c/facebook1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-4021241974862717515</id><published>2008-07-14T04:38:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T05:40:12.925+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Education is Education</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I spent a weekend at my auntie's home in Salatiga. She was my favorite auntie as I found the she was the most understanding grown-up in my mother's big family. It had been three years that I did not see her, and as my horizon was expanding here and there in those period, I have to admit that I was a little surprised to see her most recent point of view.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;There were heating family debates between my auntie, my uncle and their last son. Age-wise, it was not fair situation; a 15-year-old boy fighting with over-50's adults. Yet that is the thing that are so commonly observed in typical Indonesian families, where parents are the authorities of a small state called household.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The fights were for me very interesting, as they argued about the quality of the education that my 15 year-old cousin pursued in a school called as "Alternative School". I have heard about alternative schools, at least in the last five years, but only this weekend the term struck my mind with a question: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Why should it be called as "alternative"? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Why doesn't it just stand as "school"? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Why the education in that school is called as "alternative"?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So what is school that can bear only "school" on its identity, and what is "education" that is called with generic name of "education"?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A little background why my cousin was sent to that alternative school was that my cousin was considered to be "not smart enough" to join the "school". He cannot enjoy reading so that his marks have never reached the score of above 7.00 out of 10.00 overal scoring system for primary education. He was considered to be "bodoh" (from Bahasa Indonesia, literally means "stupid").&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Now, let's see the other side.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Curious of proving my auntie's statement that my cousin was stupid, I sat and talked to him about anything related to his laptop. He was doing a little Photoshop session and he showed me a cut of his short movie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I, personally witness that he is not stupid at all. He can communicate very well for a person at his age. In that Alternative School he learns things that he like; from movie making (friends, remember, he's only 15! don't you think it's great?), graphic designing, up to playing in the band. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The system in his school allows any student to learn anything that they are interested in, in very focused and independent way: through internet, field practice, with a facilitator facilitating the interaction process in the class, including in settingup class rules and guiding the pupils to focus on their interests.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;In his parents' point of view, however, the place where my cousin goes everyday is not a school. They kept on mentioning that they were ashamed to share with their neighbours or colleagues on where my cousin studies. I cannot deny that fact of shame because I do understand that community at large still perceives education in the following formula:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;SCHOOL = education based on determined syllabus + classroom + books + lecture + student sitting tidily with super tidy outfits, in uniform + regular examination + report of the study every end of semester + graduation certificate when the lessons are done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;They cannot accept that an education institution that does not adopt or signify the above-mentioned formula  can really be considered as a SCHOOL. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Starting from this point then they do not possess any trust to believe that this place is a place where their son is being educated. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Then, I have a question:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;If a SCHOOL is aimed to provide EDUCATION FOR ALL, then why can't it satisfy the special needs of young people like my cousin? Despite of its weaknesses, would it be fair to call the place where the children are put into their interest and talent and dig the very best of those as an "alternative" school?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Personally I say, I don't think so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;There is nothing alternative if the fact is the main body that is expected to provide something significant to ensure ALL children are educated cannot provide it.  So, I guess it is not appropriate to call my cousin's school as an alternative school. A school is a school. With or without uniform and blackboard, the idea of a school as an education environmentmant that enhance the pupils' knowledge and capability should not put an adjective to the noun like into "alternative school". School is school. Full stop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Then, if the place that is called "alternative school" can provide "alternative education" that fits students interest and boost their knowledge by practice, much more than what the "schools" can do, should we also question the base of education itself?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What is education?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What is it for?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What do we get from there?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;How much is it compatible to my brain?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Will I need these knowledge as my life skills tools?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Can the school that is called as "school" fulfil those education needs?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Education should stay as education. No discrimination or stigma that discriminate the institution that functions as school, to teenager audiences that consist of thousands people with different needs, talents and interests. Every school should fulfil the gap in education with their own expertise. No main school, no alternative subjects.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Not every child who cannot read are stupid. They just have different part of the brain and talents working, where they need  place to compensate with less growing pain. They need a space and education that can accommodate the needs, and those, might be the home schooling, or that "alternative school". Then, is it appropriate to still call them as "alternative"? In my opinion, I'd rather call it Accommodative School.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Happy New Academic Year!!! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;*&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Just A Note: So, here I am, at 04.39 a.m., taking advantage of my insomnia, writing some thoughts in my head about education in Indonesia...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-4021241974862717515?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4021241974862717515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=4021241974862717515' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/4021241974862717515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/4021241974862717515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/07/education-is-education.html' title='Education is Education'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-7812527380147935963</id><published>2008-07-09T23:17:00.010+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T00:01:32.137+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Come On, People!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SHeRDhXcRPI/AAAAAAAAANs/ooBrMt2q90s/s1600-h/comeonpeoplecover.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221801782641706226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SHeRDhXcRPI/AAAAAAAAANs/ooBrMt2q90s/s320/comeonpeoplecover.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This evening I opened Shine by Yahoo!, and my eyes caught something: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://shine.yahoo.com/channel/entertainment/who-s-the-next-star-to-enter-the-reality-arena-spitzer-s-hooker-ashley-dupre-203695/?pg=2#comments"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Who’s the next star to enter the reality arena? Spitzer’s hooker, Ashley Dupré&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;. I am against prostitution, and I hate prostitutes. However I was a little surprised to feel the heat in the comments, especially because I thought that Westerners are more liberal in viewing an issue. Yet seems that the Culture Code, not only here but also at the West perceive prostitution and a prostitute similarly. Here are some comments from the community:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Posted by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://shine.yahoo.com/blog/apnFeyA6gUf8MbrxO4d_u1qTIP5R1m0aI/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Erika K&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; 3 hours 54 minutes ago&lt;br /&gt;thats &lt;strong&gt;nasty &lt;/strong&gt;a dating show with a prostitute as your grand prize, &lt;strong&gt;which man in his right mind &lt;/strong&gt;would kiss a woman that has had how ever many d^cks in her mouth and then sum. thats &lt;strong&gt;nasty&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Posted by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://shine.yahoo.com/blog/aoC2qJJHyGpxGgw2pHA.7IGddSAplXGPBjIkc5IME/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;nini&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt; 3 hours 12 minutes ago&lt;br /&gt;I thought the FCC wanted to keep &lt;strong&gt;crap&lt;/strong&gt; off the tv??? This is &lt;strong&gt;awful&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;Gross people&lt;/strong&gt; should not be rewarded with fame. Is she expecting to find Mr. Right with all her experience&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Posted by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://shine.yahoo.com/blog/aH9YkfH70TJ5UCtXO4HG67NM_/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;elle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt; 2 hours 12 minutes ago&lt;br /&gt;ms. high priced prostitute "wants to eliminate all negativity from her life and focus on the positive??" o.k. this is just downright &lt;strong&gt;absurd... and disgraceful&lt;/strong&gt;. lil ms. hooker &lt;strong&gt;should be in a cell &lt;/strong&gt;- not on television. this so makes me &lt;strong&gt;question the judicial system &lt;/strong&gt;- yet again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Posted by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://shine.yahoo.com/blog/aH9YkfH70TJ5UCtXO4HG67NM_/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;elle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; 1 hour 16 minutes ago&lt;br /&gt;springtime ~ she's been used and reused already - over and over again. also, this happens when your cute, this is &lt;strong&gt;in no way beautiful&lt;/strong&gt;, and she does have a brain. a female prostitute brain, the brain that made her &lt;strong&gt;use her body to make lots of money&lt;/strong&gt;, has now upgraded her degrading self to national television.&lt;br /&gt;as far as being replaced ... as much as I dislike what she is/does - this one will probably (with the help of past old/rich clients) make it for a very long time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Posted by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://shine.yahoo.com/blog/ajYrDPmitBcH6ndztGthlJPbw1qhK_W_J/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;werbiefitz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;color:#3333ff;"&gt; 54 minutes ago&lt;br /&gt;Can you see the discussion in millions of homes?? Mommy, Daddy....what's a hooker??? Are they going to show her &lt;strong&gt;medical report&lt;/strong&gt; to potential "dates" so they can be sure they won't &lt;strong&gt;catch something from&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;her&lt;/strong&gt;?? TV has truly sunk to a new low&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The key words about the prostitute were &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;nasty, "sick"...("which man in his right mind would...), crap, awful, gross people, absurd and disgraceful, should be in a cell, qustion the judicial system, in no way beautiful, use her body to make lots of money, children qustions, medical report, catch something from her&lt;/span&gt;... Semantically there are many connotative meanings there, that I am sure you can read between the line.. Those spotted not only the prostitute but also her customers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Last Saturday I watched Oprah on Metro TV, featuring Bill Cosby and Alvin F. Poussaint, MD who wrote "Come On People!". Inspirational true events of human beings fighting hardships and succeeding are throughout the book. Come On People addresses the following imperative issues: the need for a positive community; nurturing children; educating children; combating violence and achieving prosperity, and it emphasized so much on wrong things that are going on but being let alone as part of community's life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;One of the issues raised that caught my attention was prostitution, and Cosby was bluntly stated his disagreement towards "It's Hard Out There To Be A Pimp". In his own way he stated the lack of good examples in community, that very often he feels like yelling, "Come On, People!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now, this is my story...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When I was naive, 8-10 years ago or so, I used to be involved in the "empowerment" of sexual workers. I helped promoting the use of condoms and some protective measures to protect them from sexually transmitted diseases and HIV. In the name of harm reduction, I used to be told that it was also to protect innocent wives at home from getting the virus from their swinger husbands, and I believed I was sort of doing heroic moves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I used to ride around my hometown with my old crush, a young and charming doctor to some dim spots of the city, talking to the ones that we were so insisting to call as "sexual workers", and screening their health. It was not rare that the medical examination was done right on the spot, behind the walls of closed stores or big tress, and it was not rare also that I went home after midnight as my old crush was taking time to treat gonnorhea of his patients, also on the spot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I saw those girls merely as victims. I was so much into black and white opinions, influenced by news in the papers saying that teenagers were sold by the parent, or that they were raped, or that they were dumped by their boyfriends after losing their virginity, or that they are very poor, that they arrived into sexual industry and stayed there. I took so much symphaty on them in the beginning, with my idealistic friends who were dreaming of saving the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Yet I knew that there was something wrong. If they were all that suffering, how can they make those giggles? How can they stay so lazy, that very often in the afternoon in Sunan Kuning area, they just sat, chatted, painted their nails, gossiping and teasing any men passing by?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;If they were that suffering so much of doing the job, then why do they stay there? Why did any handicraft classes that we held had never produced a girl who pledged, "I'm getting out of this red light district, I will do another business."? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The more I digged deep, the more I talked to them, and the more I lived more hardships in my own life, then the more I know that mostly, being a PROSTITUTE (sorry, I don't wanna use "sexual WORKER" term anymore) is about PERSONAL CHOICE. One thing I remembered so much was when a prostitute proudly told us, "why should I work in other place? my job here is easy. Just laying down, play a little, and I earn much more than those who get sweaty from other job."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Also, I used to have a college mate working as a call girl. She used to persuade me, "Hey, where else in the world you can find money and pleasure coming together as apackage?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As a woman, who later living serious relationship with man, I felt that it is not fair to always protect those groups of people, who don't care if their customers are married or in relationship, whether they are a young boy persuaded by his friends to try his gut or a nasty ugly old guy. I deconstructed my thoughts, starting to have conservative opinion that the prostitution is a threat to all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Then actually, from those days on, I started to doubt my choice to assist in reproductive health campaign for them, and gradually I stopped.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As a woman, growing with all possible hardships in life and struggling hard to survive, I found that their statements and view of life are offensive. I that see the maids, laundry girls or cleaning service girls who mop the dirty floors are far much more graceful than those who sell their body, artificial hospitality, fake smiles, basic seducing techniques by basic touch (and stupidly enough, the stupid men are happy to buy it!), selling and buying ANIMAL-like relations, short term, super-shallow, ridiculous, and of course, CHEAP. It is indeed, very very disgusting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Only weak, foolish, disgraceful, desperate, and dumb woman and man would do those kinds of transactions. If a man, with his money, would ever feel powerful of being able to buy the service, than he is NOT a powerful man at all. A powerful man is a man who can win the real love, real affection, real support. When he needs money to purchase intimacy then he should realize that there is something significant missing from his state of being as a man.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And when a woman is willing to sell her body and soul for some bills and some shallow pleasure &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;of feeling wanted, then it not only her dignity, but also her honesty should be questioned. Many of them living in higher standard than what they can afford with other kinds of job. Then they needed more and more cash, that they got so easily but they never feel enough. I used to work also in an event organizer company, where I saw some of those cute models or sales promotion girls stated that they are happy to have super extra income only by "becoming friend" to some guests for one night or so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As this world is getting more materialistic, those supply and demand chains are becoming more and more extended. Instead of working hard on improving their working skills or knowledge to reach better place at formal work, there are more girls or boys choosing the shortcut, knowing that their bodies are soldable to a great market of many customers. If they are lucky they can enjoy the nights with good looking customers with good money, thinking and hoping that those customers might really have a crush on them so they can live the Pretty Woman story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sadly enough, many have started when they are still teenagers. The saddest thing of that is that also there is inevitable fact showing that the customers DO NOT CARE if the hook up with under-age prostitutes. It is really unethical, especially because adult community should be the protector of children community. But again, what can we expect from careless, foolish man who doesn't even have a power on himself?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Combatting prostitution? Nonsense, as he is still the user of the service itself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Protecting community? No way. What do he care, if he doesn't even care to sleep with the under ages?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Therefore, I am 1000% agree that any high officials caught to use, or ever use prostitution service should be dismissed from their position. Following Bill Cosby, I'd like to yell, come on people, we can set and live good examples instead of MAKING EXCUSES! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am happy, despite of major cultural differences, most East and West speak similarly about this issue. Then I think "Come On, People" can speak across the boundaries of cultures and nations. Hopefully. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-7812527380147935963?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7812527380147935963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=7812527380147935963' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/7812527380147935963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/7812527380147935963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/07/come-on-people.html' title='Come On, People!'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SHeRDhXcRPI/AAAAAAAAANs/ooBrMt2q90s/s72-c/comeonpeoplecover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-2925235408620132013</id><published>2008-07-09T20:36:00.006+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T00:12:13.347+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pulang! (Part 02, Severe Pre-Departure Syndromme)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Di luar kegiatan &lt;em&gt;packing &lt;/em&gt;(lihat ceritanya di bawah artikel ini), ada beberapa hal lain yang cukup membuat &lt;em&gt;"sutris" &lt;/em&gt;dalam beberapa minggu terakhirku di Aceh. Ngga heran kalau Skype statusku berhari-hari memajang bubble berisi tulisan "severe pre-departure syndromme". Aku benar-benar ngga menyangka kalau pindahan dari Aceh jadi terasa seberat itu... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bersama sahabat-sahabatku, aku sering berusaha mengurai hukum sebab-akibat lalu mencari solusi. Dengan kebiasaan itu, sekarang di &lt;em&gt;daysofagirl &lt;/em&gt;aku bisa berbagi cerita tentang &lt;em&gt;pre-departure syndromme&lt;/em&gt;, yang mungkin juga dialami oleh teman-teman saat harus pindah ke tempat baru. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Meski ngga semua pre-departure syndromme termanifestasikan dalam kejadian yang sama, aku pengen berbagi cerita, yang semoga bisa bermanfaat buat teman-teman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pertama, aku tahu bahwa keparahan sindrom pra-keberangkatanku disebabkan oleh beberapa faktor; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Aku ngga hanya pindah ke SATU tempat. Yang kualami adalah DUA kepindahan drastis dalam waktu yang ngga lama. Yang pertama, dari Aceh yang sibuk ke Semarang, dan dari Semarang ke Albany, NY.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pindahan pertama (Aceh-Semarang) membuatku harus beradaptasi dari hari-hari super sibuk ke hari-hari super santai.&lt;em&gt; "Lho, yo enak, to?" &lt;/em&gt;mungkin ada yang berpikir begitu... tapi suerrr... buatku itu terasa sangat sulit. Badanku pegel-pegel kalo aku hidup nyantei... Lah gimana ya, dalam 10 terakhir ini hidupku padat karya&lt;em&gt; je&lt;/em&gt;... Adaaaa aja yang bisa dikerjain. Meski semula berawal dari kebutuhan untuk bertahan hidup, tapi lama-lama ritme ini bikin aku &lt;em&gt;addicted&lt;/em&gt;. Otakku ini harus diajak kerja... mulutku ini harus diajak diskusi...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pindahan kedua membuatku harus menyiapkan diri menjalani hidup yang bener-bener baru. Negara baru, sistem pendidikan baru, status baru... plus semua persiapan administratif yang dibutuhkan, sulit rasanya untuk ngga kepikiran.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SHTPW2bQQzI/AAAAAAAAAMs/Bi3vgJnIchM/s1600-h/n531337360_646807_7686.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221025859503145778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SHTPW2bQQzI/AAAAAAAAAMs/Bi3vgJnIchM/s320/n531337360_646807_7686.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pindahan ke sini lho...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kedua pindahan ini membuatku "tercabut" dari zona nyaman. Habitatku berubah, mungkin seperti ikan bandeng yang dipaksa berenang di air tawar; megap-megap, jadinya sulit bernafas... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Di Aceh aku punya teman-teman baik, orang-orang yang satu "bahasa", demen diskusi, cepet mikir dan berpendapat, seru, asik, fun, lucu... Terus terang, ini lingkungan paling "klik" yang pernah kupunya di usia dewasaku. Kembali ke rumah berarti memindahkan batin dan pikirku ke kerangka obrolan dan pergaulan yang jauh berbeda. Ditambah lagi keadaan di Semarang, di mana teman-teman terdekatku semua sudah hijrah ke luar kota, aku merasa seperti ikan layang-layang yang dipaksa berenang sendirian... Sepi... ngga seru... ;(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Di Semarang, saat batinku dekat dengan Bintang, ponakanku yang lucu, ngga lama kemudian aku harus berpindah ke tempat baru. Rasanya seperti patah hati.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SHTO9lFKbQI/AAAAAAAAAMk/IR-U1OCcBsw/s1600-h/n531337360_596654_8526.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221025425350356226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SHTO9lFKbQI/AAAAAAAAAMk/IR-U1OCcBsw/s320/n531337360_596654_8526.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;bukan cuma teman kerja, tapi juga teman baik... :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Aku tetap yakin bahwa aku akan bisa beradaptasi dengan cepat. Masalahnya, Aceh bukan hanya tempat kerja, tapi juga tempat hidupku. Ada rasa sayang, attachment, kebahagiaan yang terbangun dengan orang-orang di sekitarku. Demikian pula Semarang, di sini ada keluargaku. Meski nantinya hari-hari akan terlewati, tapi ada bagian-bagian yang tercabik dari hati yang rasanya sedikit membuat sedih dan kehilangan. Berikut sederet gejala severe pre departure syndromme yang kurasakan: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sleeping disorder&lt;/em&gt;, alias gangguan tidur.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Blank. Gampang lupa, kehilangan memori, susah konsentrasi. Dampaknya? susah banget nyelesein kerjaan di kantor, lemot banget saat packing, padahal deadline handover kerjaan semakin mepet...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Feeling up and down. Jadi murung, tapi juga &lt;em&gt;excited &lt;/em&gt;ngebayangin mau sekolah lagi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nah trus, gimana dong? Jawabannya, susahhhhh... banget men-&lt;em&gt;switch &lt;/em&gt;kondisi itu. Yang bisa kulakukan adalah; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Berusaha tidur (meski ujung-ujungnya terbangun juga malam-malam)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tulis semua perasaan, pikiran atau kekhawatiran yang dirasakan dalam bentuk positif. Misalnya, saat aku khawatir ngga dapat apartemen yang layak, aku akan menulis, &lt;em&gt;"I will live in a very nice place."&lt;/em&gt; (inspired by The Secret-nya Rhonda Bryne :p)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Membayangkan kegiatan-kegiatan menyenangkan yang bisa dilakukan dimanapun aku berada. Aku bikin wishlist: les gitar, les vokal, gamelan, tari, spa 2x sebulan, ke gym, main bersama bintang, &lt;em&gt;makeover &lt;/em&gt;kamar tidur, dll. Mulai minggu ini aku sudah mulai les gitar dan vokal, dan minggu lalu aku sudah &lt;em&gt;makeover &lt;/em&gt;kamar. Hm, menyenangkan juga...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Diskusi dengan tim kerja, sampaikan hambatan emosional yang sedang kuhadapi dan meminta pengertian plus dukungan mereka.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tetap berusaha konsentrasi saat kerja, memotivasi diri, meski merasa kalo tingkat kecerdasanku turun ke level 20% doang...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bikin &lt;em&gt;check list&lt;/em&gt;, apa saja yang belum dan perlu dikerjakan. Saat-saat blank biasanya memori otak terbatas. &lt;em&gt;Check list &lt;/em&gt;membantu aku tetap &lt;em&gt;perform &lt;/em&gt;dengan baik.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sharing dengan teman-teman dekat, have fun dengan mereka, atau sekedar ngobrol lamaaa... liburan bareng (seperti aku dan Lany :D), atau at least &lt;em&gt;having someone to hug&lt;/em&gt;. :"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Merasa tetap dicintai dan menyayangi orang-orang di sekitar kita sangat membantu dalam masa-masa bluey. &lt;em&gt;Thanks to my housemates, "the double Lany!" &lt;/em&gt;:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sekarang aku di Semarang. Masih rada-rada blank juga kadang-kadang, untung ada teman-teman... yang meski jauh, tapi tetap supportive dan sayang!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SHTOu_8y5oI/AAAAAAAAAMU/mg-X8_TH3kw/s1600-h/n531337360_695217_6779.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221025174864979586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SHTOu_8y5oI/AAAAAAAAAMU/mg-X8_TH3kw/s320/n531337360_695217_6779.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; "H" is for Hope, Happy, Happiness, Habibi, Healing, Hug."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;atau... "H is for Helipad! hehehehe..." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-2925235408620132013?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2925235408620132013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=2925235408620132013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/2925235408620132013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/2925235408620132013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/07/pulang-part-2-severe-pre-departure.html' title='Pulang! (Part 02, Severe Pre-Departure Syndromme)'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SHTPW2bQQzI/AAAAAAAAAMs/Bi3vgJnIchM/s72-c/n531337360_646807_7686.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-5986255664916223142</id><published>2008-07-09T18:58:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T20:32:57.056+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pulang! (Part 01, Packing Heboh)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Akhirnya, setelah hampir 18 bulan di Aceh, aku pulang ke Semarang.&lt;br /&gt;Buatku pulang, mampir dan mudik itu beda lho. Meski di Aceh, sebetulnya dalam 18 bulan ini aku sempat juga 5 kali mampir ke Semarang dan satu kali mudik. Tapi baru kali ini aku pulang. Bingung ngga? hehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku &lt;strong&gt;"mampir"&lt;/strong&gt; ke Semarang saat ada tugas ke Jakarta, atau pas kebetulan sempat "nyelip" di sela-sela liburan seperti saat aku nonton Java Jazz bulan Maret lalu. Namanya juga mampir, aku paling lama tinggal di Semarang 3 hari, dengan barang bawaan seadanya, plus (kalo sempat beli) sedikit oleh-oleh. Aku &lt;strong&gt;"mudik"&lt;/strong&gt; 10 hari saat lebaran. Barang bawaannya lumayan banyak, tapi tetap kalah banyak dengan barang bawaan saat &lt;strong&gt;"pulang"&lt;/strong&gt;. Pokoknya total biaya pengiriman barang via kantor pos sampai 1,8 juta lebih sedikit dan biaya over-luggage Garuda 900 ribu lebih.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngga kebayang bakal begini, padahal aku sudah merelakan spring bed, rak buku dan lemariku tertinggal di Aceh. Waktu packing yang dibutuhkan total hampir seminggu, dengan hasil 2 kopor buesarrr, 2 kopor kecil, 2 kardus besar dan satu box kayu berisi kulkas. Repotnya? Jangan tanya... Aku sampai heran, kok bisa ya, kamar kosku yang mungil itu menampung semua barang ini? :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Komentar Bbz-kyu saat menjemput aku pagi-pagi sebelum ke airport mencerminkan hebohnya pindahanku; &lt;em&gt;"are you sure you've packed out and sent your things before?" &lt;/em&gt;... mengingat saat dia datang, barang-barangku masih berserakan di mana-mana. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yang jelas, ada beberapa pelajaran yang bisa kubagi buat teman-teman yang berencana "back for good" (istilah teman-teman di Aceh nih...):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mulai packing paling tidak 2 minggu sebelum keberangkatan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pilih barang-barang yang benar-benar perlu untuk dibawa, terutama barang-barang yang paling kita sayangi. (Sampai-sampai aku bawa 2 kuntum kamboja pink kering yang dikasih si Habibi pada suatu pagi... :"&gt;). Bila perlu, buat daftar inventory secermat mungkin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kirim barang-barang yang cukup berat (yang bikin berat kardus dan koperku kebanyakan buku-buku kesayangan) via courier service atau layanan paket pos. Thanks to Pak Suhendra dan Bang Alfi, yang sudah berbagi info tentang layanan paket pos. Di perusahaan courier service langgananku pelayanannya memang bagus, tapi harganya 4 kali lipat. Bayangin aja, seandainya aku kirim via perusahaan itu, biayanya lebih dari 6 juta! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Meski paket pos mengepak barang-barang kita dengan sangat baik, ngga ada salahnya untuk tetap mengepak dengan baik dari rumah. Koper-koper yang lama tidak terpakai karena handle-nya rusak bisa menjadi kotak kemasan buku yang baik dan kuat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kirim barang-barang itu paling tidak 3 hari sebelum tanggal kepulangan. Tujuannya adalah untuk memastikan bahwa kita akan menemui barang-barang itu saat sampai di rumah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hindari mengirim baju atau barang yang sangaaaattt kita sukai, yang ngga mungkin kita dapatkan lagi, via pos atau kurir. Sebaik apapun layanan mereka, selalu saja ada kemungkinan kerusakan atau kehilangan. Meski barang yang kita kirim diasuransikan, pasti sedih banget rasanya kalau sampai ada gaun kesayangan kita yang hilang.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Periksa ulang, apa lagi yang bisa dikirim. Timbang dengan teliti barang-barang yang rencananya akan kita bawa saat kita terbang... jangan sampai kejadian seperti akyu... perasaan sih yang dibawa ngga banyak... tapi ternyata over luggage sampai 30 kilo! :D (parah bangetss...hehehe...). Walhasil, di pagi itu aku "gedandapan" cari ATM di Bandara Sultan Iskandar Muda. Secara, bandaranya masih baru, ATM-nya juga belum berfungsi... malahan, mesinya masih dibungkus plastik! hehehe... Untung masih bisa gesek di counter GA. Fiuhh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Akhirnya, setelah semua kehebohan itu... ternyata masih ada dua barang berharga ketinggalan di kamar! Tas strap Comme-Ca ism hadiah dari adek ipar dan sabuk putih kesukaanku ternyata masih tergantung di kapstok kamar kos-ku di Banda... dan aku baru teringat saat memandang kapstok di kamarku di Semarang! Whaduuuhhhh....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di saat seperti ini, yang bisa jadi penyelamat adalah teman satu kos yang baik hati. :D Aku telpon Uni Lany, yang langsung bajanji mengirim barang keramat itu ke Semarang. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Makasih, Uni!  :-*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yak, ini baru cerita soal packing. Masih ada cerita lainnya tentang "pulang"... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Semoga kehebohan ini ngga perlu terjadi lagi saat aku pulang dari bumi Paman Sam tahun 2010 nanti. At least, sekarang aku sudah banyak belajar. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Special thanks to: Jiji, Uni Lany, Pak Suhendra, Pak Basri, Bang Alfi, Bang Mursal, dan Pak Marsoni: Branch Manager LogistcsPos PT. Pos Indonesia Banda Aceh. &lt;em&gt;Without you, moving my luggages out of Aceh will be impossible!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-5986255664916223142?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5986255664916223142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=5986255664916223142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/5986255664916223142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/5986255664916223142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/07/pulang-part-01-packing-heboh.html' title='Pulang! (Part 01, Packing Heboh)'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-3752477063083681137</id><published>2008-06-18T15:51:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T16:10:00.816+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Only 13?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SFjN2CfyOvI/AAAAAAAAAME/KpAgfvLg128/s1600-h/DSCN2122.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213142896948165362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SFjN2CfyOvI/AAAAAAAAAME/KpAgfvLg128/s320/DSCN2122.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It has been more than one and a half year that I haven’t donated my blood, as I have always been sick, tired and busy. Yet yesterday evening I felt fresh and healthy that I thought I would be eligible to donate. I was on the way to ride back home after my biking evening with Yoni, my best friend, and we agreed to drop by the Blood Transfusion Center of Banda Aceh Red Cross Society. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It was almost 9 p.m. when we arrived. The Center looked like a sleepy building, with only one man sitting on white bench at the waiting room for blood request section, with his tired eyes staring at nothing while he inhaled his cigarette deeply – a typical look of Acehnese man in the waiting room. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;None sat at the benches at blood donor section, and as we followed the sign and entered the Blood Donation Section, we still found none there except a girl in yellow veil named Melani. I weighed myself, thank God, I gained my 1,5 kilos back after losing it during my previous heart-broken weeks. Then Melani took my blood to check my hemoglobin level and my blood type. I was so disappointed to see my blood drops floated in the blue liquid that she used to check the hemoglobin level. It meant that my hemoglobin level is lower than 12,5, indicating that I was not an eligible donor. I was a little disappointed, so I asked her to take my blood again and rechecked the drop. The result was still the same. My blood was not “heavy” enough. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Still with my wishful thinking, I asked her to measure my blood pressure. The result was disappointing: 106/63, too low for a donor, because the normal pressure should be minimum 110/90.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it was good enough, regarding that in the last one month my blood pressure was sadly ranging in 88/56, then 96/60, then 105/60 in the last one month… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Finally Ahyoni volunteered to donate his blood. It was his second time, and I did appreciate his guts. Even it started with his worries to see the needle, yet he coped with that well. Very gooddd, buddy!:)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As Yoni was lying down with the pipe ran his blood to the blood bag, I chatted with Melani. I wondered if they have special room for children with Thalassemia like in the Transfusion Center in my hometown, Semarang. Apparently they don’t have such room for the children even they have regular patients taking the transfusion. I felt nostalgic, I remembered that the best feeling I had when I donated my blood in Semarang was when I passed the Thalassemia room and saw the faces of the children from a tiny glass window on the white door there. I have never known those cute children by name, yet I felt blessed to know that soon my blood will be poured into their veins and support their life for another month or so… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Not so long after Yoni finished, there was a little girl with big beautiful eyes entering the room. A nurse took her blood, and my heart bumped so painfully when I saw her. I knew by heart that she was one of those… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I approached her. I had never been so close with Thalassemia bearer before even my blood might had been flowing in some of their body. I wanted to cry as I saw her eyes. So brilliant, so alive. It was just hard to accept the fact that she couldn't live without other's red blood cells. I smiled at her, and she smiled back at me as a small syringe was plugged into her left upper arm by the nurse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Ouch..” &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was our first word spoken in reflex.&lt;br /&gt;“Is it painful?” I asked her.&lt;br /&gt;“No.” She smiled.&lt;br /&gt;Then silence. I was afraid to question her more.&lt;br /&gt;“Are you donor?” She asked me.&lt;br /&gt;I was ashamed, hesitating.&lt;br /&gt;“Mmh..yes... I was planning to donate, but my hemoglobin was too low.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh.”&lt;br /&gt;“So, are you a donor too?” ;-) I blinked at her.&lt;br /&gt;We both laughed. We both knew the answer.&lt;br /&gt;“I’m gonna have transfusion.”&lt;br /&gt;“Now?”&lt;br /&gt;“Impossible for now. There is no blood tonight. I’m in waiting list, they will get me two bags tonight so maybe tomorrow afternoon I’ll have my transfusion.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“What is your blood type?”&lt;br /&gt;“B.”&lt;br /&gt;......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh. I wanted to cry at the same second. I felt that I owe her a life that I could actually share… if only I was healthier, if only I was more eligible…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;“What’s yours?”, she asked me back.&lt;br /&gt;Ashamed, I answered… “B.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh.”&lt;br /&gt;She paused. “Too bad.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I looked at her, “Wish I was healthier.”&lt;br /&gt;“No problem. Maybe next time.”&lt;br /&gt;She smiled again, her brilliant eyes sparkling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I gave my hand as she rose from the bed. “I’m Asri.”&lt;br /&gt;“I’m M--“&lt;br /&gt;“How old are you, M--?”&lt;br /&gt;“Twelve.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I wanted to hide. I couldn't stand my tears from bursting. She’s too young, too vibrant…&lt;br /&gt;She walked to the door. A sort of stunned, I followed her like a dumb. She smiled again to me. Her eyes blinking, teasing me. “See you then, I might have your blood next time… coz I’m a vampire!” then she laughed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I felt uneasy, so uneasy. It feels like I’m facing a hungry little girl who is about to faint with a box of food in my hand that I can’t give, since if I gave it away then I’ll be the one fainted... I felt so sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I went out some minutes later when she was already leaving. Then I heard the Center staff talked about their guilty feeling of not having enough blood that day. Before M--, there was another child coming with face palely white, needing the O type blood. Yet there is no stock kept there. In average the Transfusion Unit of Banda Aceh Red Cross needs at least 50 bags of blood per day, yet there are only approximately 13 donors come to donate each day… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure that there are more than 13 people in this city are healthy enough to donate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The question is, ...where are they?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-3752477063083681137?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3752477063083681137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=3752477063083681137' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/3752477063083681137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/3752477063083681137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/06/only-13.html' title='Only 13?'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SFjN2CfyOvI/AAAAAAAAAME/KpAgfvLg128/s72-c/DSCN2122.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-212092256013005315</id><published>2008-06-17T10:06:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T14:01:27.297+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Final Stagnancy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SFddGSDRXuI/AAAAAAAAAL8/lMBE7dAPvNc/s1600-h/sunset+ulee+lheue.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212737456210796258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SFddGSDRXuI/AAAAAAAAAL8/lMBE7dAPvNc/s320/sunset+ulee+lheue.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Sunset at Ulee Lheue, Aceh, the 2004 Tsunami "Ground Zero" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I found this, my my catharsis when I have just started working in Disaster Risk Reduction (DRR) Unit, in my diary folder. At that time DRR was totally a new term in Aceh that even some NGO workers would laugh when they heard about it. Some even said that it didn't make sense, or ridiculous to be applied as the reconstruction and rehabilitation process in Aceh has been moving forward for almost three years. My advisor said that he had been living the stagnant state of zero support plus zero initiatives in the province, and as a new kid on the block (after living the old kids in other blocks :p), I felt the challenges (that some people called as hardship) were really visible on the way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And here it is, my old writing from 11 March 2007, titled 'A Final Stagnancy'...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Time goes by so quickly. Apparently, one month is not as long as it is in the imagination. Lots of things have been done as the other lots are awaiting to be done. Nothing is completed yet except the number of people working in my team*. However I am happy enough to realize that I am not alone and I am no longer a lone walker.&lt;br /&gt;I am a new man on the field. Say that term of man is gender biased, as I don’t mind to be a man for a while. I must be strong, I foresee that I will fight like a man sometimes. I must be able to be &lt;strong&gt;anything &lt;/strong&gt;(not only 'anyone') necessary when it deals with the reaching to final destination. Creating strategy is indeed more complicated than just running a rule on whatever it takes. Strategies put my mind in a path. I must cut off the bushes and get rid of stony ground to move on more quickly later. And it’s exciting to see my new path is easy to walk on, until in some point I witness a destination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am learning and I move on. If stagnancy is a deal that I must take than I will choose to have a final stagnancy after all the things I need settled and understood. I am here as part of a team working on public awareness and policy. It is not impossible but it is not too simple.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;How can we move it, is another question to ask and to challenge with all constrains ahead and happiness when constrains come to final end due to our fantastic strategy.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is ordinary here. And I guess, I am here because I am not an ordinary…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Now, fourteen months later,&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;I am thankful that it is not the final stagnancy that we have. With my team, we have been nursing the birth of DRR activities, awareness and policies one by one, step by step. What I always believe is that when we start with good intention, all other good intentions in the universe will be generated around us, bringing helping hands and supports, as much as growing the good will in the heart of good people. There won't be a final stagnancy as long as the force of good intention lives. Insya Allah, NEVER. :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"The activist is not the man who says the river is dirty. The activist is the man who cleans up the river." &lt;/em&gt;-Ross Perrot- (I found this quote in a calendar laid on the desk of a government office in Banda Aceh; I love the spirit!)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-212092256013005315?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/212092256013005315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=212092256013005315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/212092256013005315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/212092256013005315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/06/final-stagnancy.html' title='Final Stagnancy'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SFddGSDRXuI/AAAAAAAAAL8/lMBE7dAPvNc/s72-c/sunset+ulee+lheue.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-1780806936572720568</id><published>2008-04-29T14:02:00.004+07:00</published><updated>2008-06-17T14:09:05.085+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Star Gazer, Moon Watcher</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SBbfZNxk6-I/AAAAAAAAAL0/Vtcj4KnK4Qk/s1600-h/full+moon+in+kl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194584844505770978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SBbfZNxk6-I/AAAAAAAAAL0/Vtcj4KnK4Qk/s320/full+moon+in+kl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;full moon in Kuala Lumpur's sky, 19 April 2008 &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am a moon watcher, I am a star gazer.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know much about the universe, I don’t know much about the galaxies, I don’t know much about astronomy. But I know one thing: stars and moon amaze me in a certain way, and now I tell you why&lt;/em&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Night Sky is My Soul’s Sanctuary. &lt;/strong&gt;When I am sad I love to look up to the sky. I trust the sky as the keeper of my dreams, the cradle of my beloved souls, for the deaths on earth are all the livings there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I look up to the sky at night when I miss the persons that I have never, or will never see again; my father, my first love, my past lovers, my good friends, my grandparents... then I know one thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I know that I have lost a quite a lot of people in my life, and i have missed so many beautiful places. I look up to the sky when I miss lovely days with my little sister, my old home, my childhood's hometown, the sparkle on Gombel hills of Semarang that used to be seen from my terrace, my ship, my days in Japan, my lone walking nights in Trocadero, wide grass field on the mountains where I used to camp, my white roses, my tiny little steps when I was a little girl learning to run…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;All my beautiful memories are kept in a &lt;strong&gt;black box &lt;/strong&gt;called &lt;strong&gt;the Night Sky&lt;/strong&gt;. Each and every stars are the representation of the past existences. They blink, they spark, so far away, keeping my heart from away grieving. Keeping my heart to stay in a trust that the good days are not just the past but they are sparkling still within my heart. They are alive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The "black box" sends me the light that passes through millions of light years,then I know that at least as long as I live, the spectrums of the light will always take care of me, at it shines from love that never fades, my love to those who have left, or those whom I left behind, and their love to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I feel warm whenever I see the sky. I feel the sacred serenity, tender caress that eases my heart that those who have been gone are still here in the circle of my "personalized universe". In my macro and micro cosmos, protecting me from another pain that might come, from another separation, wound from another valediction. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I can tell whose faces are smiling at me up there, between stars, clouds and moon. The darkness of the night is so kind to conceal the sadness, to provide me with such vast space to draw the faces or events that I miss with my mind. And I could see, the little me running, turning round and round in my favorite yellow princess-like gown… I could even hear that little girl laughs, ran to her father, sat on his lap, or waking up and saw a glass of hot chocolate milk vaporizing the warm fragrance of love and care… I could hear that little girl singing &lt;em&gt;“Nina Bobo” &lt;/em&gt;to her little doll dressing up in red, or crying in her dull-colored room alone in her difficult nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I learn so much from life that I completely understand how a valediction comes. When the goodbye has reached the &lt;em&gt;“adieu” &lt;/em&gt;state than just a &lt;em&gt;“see you again”. &lt;/em&gt;I learn so much to identify who would be leaving me without even care if I would love to see him again, in the name of every reason that match to the ones I have listed from my lessons of life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The night sky reminds me to all those events, that i would be awaken out of my almost-convincing lulabies... Then soon I know that I have to prepare a new space in the black box to keep him and all my memories there, and recall him sometimes to smile at me from high above.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;As for my sweet dreams, I keep them all there, next to the moon. So when it is full and glowing I could feel the excitements of making them true, or leaving them behind in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When my soul will rest, I will place her right there, floating in the night sky. Wingless, far from glorious Pegasus-like shape, yet it will grab all energy sparked by the burning helium, energy of creations, of the big bangs, of what happened in the past and foreseen in the future. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Of feelings that will never fade, reflections, circles of living - like the way satellites run, like the way it glows from the sunshine… white, white, glowing, moving only by the will of gravity, resting in the peace of my zero will…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Do you sometimes feel the same?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-1780806936572720568?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1780806936572720568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=1780806936572720568' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/1780806936572720568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/1780806936572720568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/04/star-gazer-moon-watcher.html' title='Star Gazer, Moon Watcher'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SBbfZNxk6-I/AAAAAAAAAL0/Vtcj4KnK4Qk/s72-c/full+moon+in+kl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-1801166462946519247</id><published>2008-04-29T12:41:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T16:12:18.596+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of My Morning Feelings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thank God,&lt;br /&gt;For giving me a forgiving heart&lt;br /&gt;That I am willing to expand,&lt;br /&gt;So it will roam to the width of the oceans, as deep as the earth crust&lt;br /&gt;That waves nor eruptions will destroy me,&lt;br /&gt;Dissolved they will be instead,&lt;br /&gt;Standing still I will always be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God,&lt;br /&gt;For giving me the patience&lt;br /&gt;That even a second after I am shouted at&lt;br /&gt;Harassed or humiliated,&lt;br /&gt;I always have the will and the strength to fight in peace&lt;br /&gt;Then forgive and move on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God,&lt;br /&gt;For showing me the beauty of every pieces of clouds&lt;br /&gt;That I always wish for the rain that brings the life&lt;br /&gt;And believe that when I’m lucky enough,&lt;br /&gt;The rainbow will bow in my horizon at a moment in time&lt;br /&gt;So I can always say with smile; “life is not that bad…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God,&lt;br /&gt;For giving me abundance of willingness&lt;br /&gt;A complete pair of hands, a pair of feet, eyes, ears&lt;br /&gt;To work, to walk, to see and to listen&lt;br /&gt;Then I’m not a blind woman walking in my will&lt;br /&gt;And a mouth that works in harmony with my mind and soul&lt;br /&gt;Then I am not a dumb speaking, or the one numbing with many thoughts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God,&lt;br /&gt;For making me believe that the truth is revealing in any ways possible&lt;br /&gt;That in my hopeless moments I will see,&lt;br /&gt;How much life will always give&lt;br /&gt;How the shed of tears are actually the diamonds want to be…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a matter of time, it’s a matter of time, it’s a matter of time&lt;br /&gt;And you give me chance to see it revealing.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you God,&lt;br /&gt;For loving me, for taking care of me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hope I will always be given the time to live and rest in peace, in your cradle of love, in your magical moments, in your miracles, in your beautiful destiny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Yours faithfully,&lt;br /&gt;A (used to be) Little Girl called Asri Wijayanti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-1801166462946519247?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1801166462946519247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=1801166462946519247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/1801166462946519247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/1801166462946519247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/04/out-of-my-morning-feelings.html' title='Out of My Morning Feelings'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-8072743099205949808</id><published>2008-04-25T16:42:00.005+07:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T17:51:39.099+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ini Bukan Perang, Ini Kesetaraan</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SBGqX9xk69I/AAAAAAAAALs/Lof7b4mNM5g/s1600-h/a4-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193119174031109074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SBGqX9xk69I/AAAAAAAAALs/Lof7b4mNM5g/s320/a4-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;bekerja bersama, bekerjasama, setara &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“Jangan mau kalah sama laki-laki!” &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kalimat ini diucapkan dua orang selebriti ABG di Silet edisi khusus hari Kartini. Mungkin banyak perempuan lain yang meneriakkan pesan yang sama hari ini, di Hari Kartini. Rasanya sepuluh tahun yang lalu aku juga meneriakkan pesan yang sama. Tapi waktu berlalu, dan hari ini aku merasa, pesan itu belum sepenuhnya bercerita tentang pesan yang disampaikan dalam Habis Gelap Terbitlah Terang…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teman-teman, izinkan saya berpendapat bahwa pesan di Hari Kartini bukanlah masalah kalah atau menang. Ini juga bukan masalah persamaan semata, dimana apa yang bisa dimiliki pria harus bisa dimiliki wanita. Ini masalah emansipasi, emansipasi dalam arti yang jauh lebih luas dari sekedar kemenangan dalam persaingan dengan para lelaki. Ini bukan perang, yang di akhir ceritanya menampilkan salah satu pihak mengibarkan bendera putih tanda menyerah. Ini juga bukan masalah pembagian angka kuadrat dalam ilmu hitung, saat suatu vektor yang dibagi menghasilkan dua bilangan pembagi yang sama besar. Ini seperti pembagian kualitatif, di mana angka yang tercipta dalam pembagian yang dilakukan adalah angka-angka relatif, yang tergantung dari faktor-faktor penentu lain, yang relatif tidak akan menghasilkan angka yang sama dari sudut pandang yang berbeda. Proses perubahannya pun memasuki ranah-ranah perubahan kualitatif dan kuantitatif. Ada perubahan kualitatif, akan menggunakan kaidah &lt;em&gt;qualitative-leap&lt;/em&gt;. Kualitatif-lompatan. Lalu perubahan &lt;em&gt;quantitative – accumulative&lt;/em&gt;, atau kualitatif – akumulatif, dimana perubahan akan terjadi setelah sekian faktor terakumulasikan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Emansipasi. &lt;/strong&gt;Aku yakin, tanpa perlu berdebat tentang teori asal-usul peristilahan, kata itu berasal dari kata &lt;em&gt;emancipation&lt;/em&gt;. Dalam buku Tata Bahasa Baku Indonesia, "kitab suci"-ku saat menyelesaikan tugas akhir di bidang linguistik, dijelaskan bahwa Bahasa Indonesia menyerap istilah asing dengan modifikasi akhiran &lt;em&gt;–ion &lt;/em&gt;menjadi –asi saat para Ahli Bahasa tidak dapat menemukan padanan kata tersebut dalam Bahasa Indonesia. Ah, begitu sulitnyakah mencari padanan kata ini dalam bahasa ibu kita? Secara dangkal, kita bisa saja berburuk sangka, bahwa ini bukti bahwa kita hidup dalam budaya paternalistik. Bahwa bumi yang disebut-sebut sebagai “Ibu Pertiwi” ini adalah bumi di mana pria berkuasa terlalu lama sehingga manusia di dalamnya tidak pernah membudi-dayakan istilah yang bertentangan dengan makna-makna yang ada dalam ranah bumi milik pria ini. (pertanyaan iseng: ungkinkah karena ini Ibu Pertiwi sering bersusah hati?) :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secara sederhana, saat kita melihat di daftar &lt;em&gt;thesaurus &lt;/em&gt;dalam aplikasi &lt;em&gt;Microsoft Words&lt;/em&gt;, kata &lt;em&gt;emancipation &lt;/em&gt;disepadankan dengan &lt;em&gt;liberation, setting free, freeing, release, unrestraint&lt;/em&gt;. Semuanya berbau kebebasan. Tidak terbatas. Namun saat kata emansipasi ini digabungkan dengan kata wanita, menjadi frasa “emansipasi wanita”, dan kita memasukkannya sebagai kata kunci pencarian dalam mesin pencari, berderet-deret informasi bertema feminisme memenuhi layar. Emansipasi, ketika bertemu dengan wanita, bergeser makna menjadi &lt;em&gt;“equality” &lt;/em&gt;– yang celakanya sejak kita kecil, dalam sistem pendidikan yang mendidikku di era 1980 – 1990-an secara mentah diterjemahkan sebagai &lt;strong&gt;"persamaan"&lt;/strong&gt;. Ini yang membuat kebanyakan pria, dan sebagian wanita menyuarakan nada-nada sumbang, tentang mustahilnya seorang perempuan disamakan dengan laki-laki.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ada yang hilang dalam pemahaman mutlak tentang emansipasi dan &lt;em&gt;equality&lt;/em&gt;. Bertanyalah kepada sepuluh orang pria di negeri ini, di sudut-sudut desa, secara acak, apakah mereka setuju dengan persamaan laki-laki dan perempuan. Jawaban klasik yang akan terdengar adalah, &lt;em&gt;“tidak mungkin perempuan sama dengan laki-laki”&lt;/em&gt;. Buat perempuan ekstra-sensitif (termasuk aku, beberapa tahun lalu ^_^), jawaban itu membuat jantung berdegup kencang, dan dada terasa panas. Tapi bila kita bertanya lagi, kepada diri kita sendiri, dengan jujur, benarkan “persamaan”, seperti yang ditanamkan dalam pendidikan kita, adalah kata yang semata-mata mencerminkan harapan-harapan akan pembebasan diri, pembebasan ekspresi, pembebasan kreatifitas, kebebasan mengatur fungsi reproduksi, kebebasan berpakaian, kebebasan memilih untuk menikah atau tidak menikah tanpa dibayangi stigma, kebebasan bicara, kebebasan bertindak atau kebebasan-kebebasan lain, yang mungkin terdengar utopis, namun termaknakan dalam kata emansipasi?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pria bukannya mahluk tanpa masalah hidup. Peran sosial mereka, jamaknya standar pencitraan tentang sosok &lt;em&gt;“lelaki yang baik dan bertanggung jawab”&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;boys don’t cry, laki-laki tidak sepantasnya berdandan, laki-laki harus kuat&lt;/em&gt;, menurutku juga bukanlah hal yang mudah. Apapun &lt;em&gt;kerunyaman &lt;/em&gt;(&lt;em&gt;runyam&lt;/em&gt;: pinjam istilah Andrea Hirata ah… :p) hidup perempuan, dan apapun kerunyaman hidup laki-laki, yang dituntut oleh struktur sosial semata karena mereka terlahir dengan kelamin yang berbeda, sungguh sangat bisa diperbaiki, agar hidup terasa lebih slaras buat semuanya. Perempuan, bagaimanapun adalah seorang perempuan, dan laki-laki bagaimanapun adalah seorang laki-laki. Fungsi reproduksi yang berbeda membangun pribadi-pribadi yang unik, dengan bakat dan kemampuan yang masing-masing unik pula. Lalu, tepatkah kita bicara “persamaan mutlak” dalam konteks ini?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaki kita seharusnya berpijak dalam pengertian penuh, bahwa dalam runyamnya perbedaan itu laki-laki dan perempuan adalah satu mahluk yang sama: manusia. Tidak ada yang lebih rendah, tidak ada yang lebih tinggi, tidak ada yang terlahir lebih mulia dari yang lain (insya Allah kecuali Nabi dan Rasul), tidak ada yang lebih berkuasa, tidak ada yang berhak untuk bertindak semena-mena.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sayangnya saat bangsa ini belajar tentang Raden Ajeng Kartini dan emansipasi, guru-guru kita, media kita, orangtua kita, dan bangsa kita belum hidup dalam status &lt;em&gt;liberated, set free, freed, released, unrestrained&lt;/em&gt;. Lalu bagaimana bisa pesan-pesan emansipasi itu tersampaikan utuh, dalam bentuk yang mudah dicerna oleh manusia-manusia yang baru saja belajar tentang hidup, yang bernama anak-anak dan para siswa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seperti halnya segala hal yang diejawantahkan dalam kedangkalan pikir, pengajaran tentang emansipasi di bumi kelahiranku ini banyak menciptakan kondisi hitam-putih yang jauh dari ideal. Bukan kesetaraan yang ditunjukkan, namun bukti-bukti bahwa perempuan bisa bertindak atau bekerja seperti laki-laki. Lupakah kita bahwa tujuan dari segala pergerakan adalah sebenarnya untuk menciptakan harmoni hidup yang lebih baik?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harmoni berangkat dari penghargaan dan penghormatan atas individu-individu yang ada dalam masyarakat, dengan pemahaman bahwa tiap orang hadir dengan bakat, keinginan dan kebutuhan yang berbeda. &lt;em&gt;Estrogen, progesterone&lt;/em&gt;, dan rahim dalam tubuh perempuan diciptakan bukan tanpa alasan yang baik. Demikian pula &lt;em&gt;testosteron &lt;/em&gt;dalam tubuh laki-laki, semua ada demi alasan-alasan yang membuat dua mahluk yang berbeda ini saling melengkapi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dalam hal kesetaraan laki-laki dan perempuan, tentu meski laki-laki punya keinginan kebutuhan yang berbeda dengan perempuan. Meski demikian, ada bidang-bidang &lt;em&gt;intersection &lt;/em&gt;di mana ada keinginan serta kebutuhan yang sama yang ingin terwujudkan. Keinginan, dan kebutuhan sebagai manusia layaknya, yang setara. Keinginan dan kebutuhan, yang bisa diada atau ditiadakan oleh struktur sosial , oleh pendidikan, oleh sistem buatan manusia yang tak peka atas hak-hak dasar dan harkat manusia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Model-model yang diciptakan dan ditunjukkan (termasuk dalam program berita dan&lt;em&gt; variety show&lt;/em&gt;) adalah &lt;em&gt;“perempuan bisa juga jadi sopir truk trailer”&lt;/em&gt;, “perempuan jadi tukang tambal ban”, dan lain-lain. Terasa familiar? Yah, begitulah…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alih-alih menghasilkan pemahaman tentang kesetaraan dan keadilan yang muncul dari kesadaran akan perbedaan keinginan, kemampuan, yang berbanding dengan kebebasan menentukan pilihan hidup, cerita tentang emansipasi yang ditayangkan di media kita semakin membangun dimensi hitam-putih bahwa perempuan tidak boleh kalah dengan laki-laki. Pertanyaannya adalah, benarkah pilihan-pilihan itu dilaksanakan dengan sepenuh keinginan, bukan atas dasar desakan keterpaksaan, atas nama apapun? (baca: desakan ekonomi? Penelantaran suami? Dendam atau pembuktian?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adakah di antara media kita, saat hari Kartini yang lalu, bicara tentang &lt;em&gt;day care center &lt;/em&gt;– yang memungkinkan seorang ibu tetap bekerja untuk memenuhi kebutuhan ekonomi dan aktualisasi dirinya, dengan tetap merasa bahagia, menjadi ibu yang bisa dekat dengan anak-anaknya? Adakah media yang mengulas bahwa dalam kesetaraan hak perempuan untuk berkarir bersama mitra para laki-laki, ada hak-hak yang harus dipenuhi oleh korporasi sesuai kebutuhan mereka? Adakah yang bercerita tentang kebahagiaan perempuan yang memilih (baca baik-baik ya; memilih) untuk menjadi ibu rumah tangga, meski dari hitungan masyarakat hedonis dia terhitung berpendidikan tinggi dan sebenarnya dapat meraih karir gemilang dengan penghasilan luar biasa tinggi?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perempuan ini, ibu rumah tangga ini, saya yakin, bukanlah perempuan yang tidak memahami makna emansipasi. Dia bukanlah perempuan yang kalah dari laki-laki. Sebagai pemegang keputusan penting di "Negara" kecilnya, rumah tangga, dia bukan perempuan lemah, selama ada kesetaraan penghormatan dan penghargaan dalam sistem pemerintahan di dalamnya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saat guru-guru sejarah kita bercerita tentang emansipasi dengan berangkat dari membaca buku-buku yang berisi ringkasan jalan cerita seorang perempuan ningrat muda yang menulis surat kepada sahabatnya di Belanda tentang sesaknya rasa menjadi seorang perempuan Jawa dan angan-angannya tentang kehidupan perempuan, saat guru-guru kita mengingat bahwa Sang Raden Ajeng membuka sekolah keputrian pertama, cerita itu belum cukup (setidaknya menurutku) untuk membangun pemahaman tentang emansipasi. Ada yang harus diubah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Persamaan yang setara dan proporsional, mungkin adalah frasa yang tepat bercerita tentang apa yang seharusnya tumbuh dalam kesadaran.Kesadaran tak tumbuh tanpa pendidikan, pemahaman yang benar, hati yang mau membuka rasa, dan pikir yang mau mengarahkan tindakan. Jalan masih panjang. Emansipasi bukan masalah kalah atau menang. Ini masalah pembebasan dan kesetaraan. Tak ada bendera putih yang harus berkibar, yangharus ada adalah sebuah kesepakatan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Untuk bangsa yang masih belajar, kita masih harus bersabar mengakumulasikan beragam cara untuk mencapai perubahan. &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Salam hormat untuk semua wanita di Bumi Pertiwi&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-8072743099205949808?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8072743099205949808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=8072743099205949808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/8072743099205949808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/8072743099205949808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/04/ini-bukan-perang-ini-kesetaraan.html' title='Ini Bukan Perang, Ini Kesetaraan'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SBGqX9xk69I/AAAAAAAAALs/Lof7b4mNM5g/s72-c/a4-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-4622373421569211904</id><published>2008-03-18T18:07:00.006+07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T15:50:31.741+07:00</updated><title type='text'>If Only It's Like Choosing the Shoes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R9-kO-XbObI/AAAAAAAAALk/xuKFc33ip0s/s1600-h/DSC_1703.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179038673665735090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R9-kO-XbObI/AAAAAAAAALk/xuKFc33ip0s/s320/DSC_1703.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning, I was stuck between 2 shoes. The 3 cm heel bronze, or the 7 cm black. And it often happens.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Paradox of Choice. &lt;/strong&gt;This is a term that has been playing in my head, putting me into recognition of how life talks, sometimes in funny way. I discovered the term when I was feeling sleepy in between my internet-based TOEFL exam in Jakarta almost half a year ago. You who have red Barry Schwartz’s analysis long before me might be laughing at my belated knowing. But really, the idea of the paradox captured my mind so much that I could not move my mind frame to the next readings of the exam. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How he talked about having more means less, how choices sometimes make you fall into confusion, hesitation and difficulties. Like if you had to choose jeans trousers 30 years ago, you just had one style available at the stores. But now, we are spoiled by the fashion terms and cuts. Jeans now can be made of from soft or stretched fabrics. It can be in dark blue washed color, bright blue, black, white, and so on. It can be in the form of booty cut, baggie, straight cut... and let alone the shape of the pocket, the embroidery or other ornaments. Oh. Forgive me if I didn’t say the types and cuts in standardized fashion terms. Confirmed: I’m a humanitarian worker, not a fashion editor...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You, who are not a fashionista would scream the &lt;em&gt;“Aaaaarrrggggghhhh….!!!” &lt;/em&gt;To see how life can be so complicated even when it deals with the used-to-be-worker pants! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;See how life is like a wheel? Even for a single jeans pant! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, let’s leave the jeans’ case now. Aim the lens closer to life. How many choices can we have in a day, and how many minutes that we need to spend to make choices within a simple case?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember that some weeks ago, even in a &lt;em&gt;niche &lt;/em&gt;organic store that I thought wouldn’t give too much options I was hesitated in between choices of pasta. Yes, pasta! It took me at least 3 minutes to read the ingredients, observed the shapes and imagined into which meal I could develop them to be something normal and eatable then shared my idea with my Beebee who was a little faster in deciding his choice, as many most of other men are. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many times in a week, you hesitated between short cuts, and how many stories we heard about a girl making bad choice among some choices of the seem-to-be-Mr. Right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In another way, one day when you feel stuck of your life, you wish that you would have more options; of career, of a better boyfriend, of a better place to live, a holiday, more beautiful teeth, taller or slimmer body. Some choices in your head might be serious, but it can also be as dreadful as the desire not to have obligation to behave during your first dinner with your fiancé’s family. (for those who has never been in this complication, you are blessed). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In another day, the paradox of choice might hit you. Imagine (or maybe it’s already true) that you are bright, you are gorgeous, you are known as a very good worker, you are nice, and almost at the same time you apply for 3 scholarship scheme, all of them gave you positive replies, plus you are offered one position in your headquarter, plus, seems that those are not enough, you are proposed to have your own radio or TV show, all at the same time, all in a capital city, but you have a great, handsome, athletic, smart, kind, gentle, witty boyfriend who can cook, plays guitar, teach you to swim, but at the same time he is so fun to hang out with. He is the man you have been longing for almost all the half of your life… but he is living 1500 kilometers away? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When it is the case, the question is not about how long would it take to get you in a decision, but how would you live with your decision made you feel down in between overwhelmed rush in your brain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you have only half of the condition, which doesn’t intersect to the paradox, you’ll be jumping, screaming for happiness. But no, no, no. Too less people on this earth huge has the privilege to always live something for granted! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, wouldn’t you wish that it would feel the same as buying all the shoes that you like instead of spending time thinking of which one will you choose? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But friends, life is not like that, and we all know that. We are built with mind that can mend the pain. We are built from the cells that must die then being replaced. We are living in the universe that bears the curse and the gifts of being round and moving in circles. All the new will be in the same, or similar shapes, no matter how bad the process was. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Will paradox of choices created abnormality? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Like cells that can’t grow because it caught the viruses that modify the shapes? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After all, I think, when we are too drawn into the depth of the paradox and begin to feel the pain of it, and we have no power to move anything, or we feel frozen in between the choices, to whom will you ask for a guidance? ... only your heart can answer it...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am not complaining, not at all. I am a believer who believes that having choices is the beautiful consequence of having the brain, mind, and thoughts. From shoes that you'll wear, to your life survival. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Viva freedom of choices!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-4622373421569211904?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4622373421569211904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=4622373421569211904' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/4622373421569211904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/4622373421569211904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/03/if-only-its-like-choosing-shoes.html' title='If Only It&apos;s Like Choosing the Shoes...'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R9-kO-XbObI/AAAAAAAAALk/xuKFc33ip0s/s72-c/DSC_1703.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-5638642779933791697</id><published>2008-03-10T21:55:00.007+07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T15:54:01.626+07:00</updated><title type='text'>What A Feeling!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R994ouXbOaI/AAAAAAAAALc/0G0tWb28nog/s1600-h/DSC_2137.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178990737535744418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R994ouXbOaI/AAAAAAAAALc/0G0tWb28nog/s320/DSC_2137.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Affirmed: JAZZ with capital letters&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;What would you feel if you have chance to be spoiled with things that make you feel nothing but happiness?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Excited. In love. Being with best friends. Adrenaline. Endorphine. Jump. Sing. Laugh. Dance. Letting go. Feel free. Ah, what a weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When 7 March was noted as the public holiday, as the Balinese Hindu believers turned off all the lights, speeches and sounds for the Nyepi - day of silence, I jumped into earliest flight from Banda Aceh to Jakarta. I was in the crowd, celebrating love, music and friendship in the whole long weekend, 7, 8, 9 March 2008. Yes, the Java Jazz!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R994HOXbOZI/AAAAAAAAALU/AFUUszshAP8/s1600-h/DSCN4503.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178990162010126738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R994HOXbOZI/AAAAAAAAALU/AFUUszshAP8/s320/DSCN4503.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;em&gt;happy to be here with you! :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The first day already started with excitement. I couldn't wait to throw myself in crowd, running from one hall to another. It was great to realize that I was not alone. Huge crowds of jazz lovers gather along the halls and corridors. The Jakarta Convention Center was packed with crowds, yet I saw that the expressions around were smiling faces, couples in love holding on to each other (like me and my Habibi ;-)) or a lone walker walking with peace of mind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;After being in several musical performances in Aceh, it was great to re-discover the peaceful and happy atmosphere in a concert. I don't need to worry about what outfit would fit in the strict norms, no need to be separated into different sex group seating arrangement, no need to feel precautious about moving our body to the music. We were all the beautiful and happy people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My other nice discovery is that the air was much cleaner than in Aceh's public space. Very less people were smoking even the event was mainly sponsored by a giant cigarette company, so when I was in the crowd I could inhale the nice fragrant of famous perfume brands around. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I was mainly aiming for the Incognito, Manhattan Transfer and Dian Pramana Poetra for good reasons. Incognito for the spirit of the lyrics and the beautiful compositions, Manhattan Transfer for the quality of jazz vocal and quartet singing technique, and Dian PP for his inspiration to jazz in Indonesia. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I knew Dian, I think since I was only less tha 10 year-old girl. At that time none taught me that the music that I listened to was jazz. I just fell in love to the melody, rythm and lyrics. Automatically, I moved with the beat and groove. &lt;em&gt;Terimakasih banyak Oom Dian! ;-)&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R993UOXbOYI/AAAAAAAAALM/NVr8G363zoc/s1600-h/DSC_2205.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178989285836798338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R993UOXbOYI/AAAAAAAAALM/NVr8G363zoc/s320/DSC_2205.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;my first jazz hero, Dian Pramana Poetra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nina Tamam apparently had the similar story as mine, on how she discovered Dian PP's music since she was a little girl. And not like me, who was roaming as close as possible to the stage with my Nikon D40x (very amateur ya? :p), she was there next to Dian PP, singing one of his song as a dedication. Well, I am happy enough to play with my Nikkor lens and got some not-so-bad photos with big resolutions. Like the following:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R992-uXbOXI/AAAAAAAAALE/tWYz0GGYMrQ/s1600-h/DSC_2224.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178988916469610866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R992-uXbOXI/AAAAAAAAALE/tWYz0GGYMrQ/s320/DSC_2224.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;em&gt;Yes, the reunion of 2D! Deddy Dhukun and Dian PP... Waaaaahhhhh....!!! I was hysterical&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And, as expected, I was bewitched by Manhatan Transfer's performance. Proven; they are just sooo gooooddd... Route 66 was in my head, ...and, as a Java Flava, it was difficult not to put a big smile on my happy face when they spelled, "I love the Java-Java tea..." Ah... Unfortunatelly it was a little difficult to find good spot to get good snap shots. This is the best I could do: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R992qeXbOWI/AAAAAAAAAK8/mYMl9V1okHY/s1600-h/DSC_2070.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178988568577259874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R992qeXbOWI/AAAAAAAAAK8/mYMl9V1okHY/s320/DSC_2070.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Manhattan Transfer was in action, some minutes before getting a bouquet from... Babyface!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;I didn't miss any of &lt;a href="http://incognito.org.uk/forum/viewtopic.php?t=5103"&gt;Incognito's concerts&lt;/a&gt;. the first and the last day, Still A Friend of Mine brought me to the groove of friendship. One by one, Deep Water, Always There, Everyday, Nights over Egypt flew, and I was so much in the groove and the "Don't You Worry Bout A Thing" positive spirit. The nice surprises showed up in the second show. Maysa Leak performed with her cool-groovy style, and an Indonesian girl inspired by her, Dira from Bandung, was invited to sing with them. I first saw Dira in Dwiki Darmawan's performance on the second day, and she was good. Sayang ya, kok kalah gaung sama penyanyi lain yang lebih &lt;em&gt;ecek-ecek&lt;/em&gt;. Go on, &lt;em&gt;Neng &lt;/em&gt;Dira! ;-)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R990d-XbOVI/AAAAAAAAAK0/XPADqAW-OvE/s1600-h/DSC_2302.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178986154805639506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R990d-XbOVI/AAAAAAAAAK0/XPADqAW-OvE/s320/DSC_2302.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dira is the one with batik dress at the extreme right side. Bravo, girl!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R99wr-XbOUI/AAAAAAAAAKs/Bmsipt-R_S0/s1600-h/DSC_2309.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178981997277296962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R99wr-XbOUI/AAAAAAAAAKs/Bmsipt-R_S0/s320/DSC_2309.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sing it out loud, Jakarta! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;My favorite part was always when Bluey greeted us. I love the way he talked about his childhood in the Mauritius. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"Where is your trouble?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;"It's at my back, like my shadow."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Then, we moved on the dance for "goes for you, goes for me, goes everyone... we are the morning sun!" :) Thanks Bluey, for the inspiration!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Another favorite part of Incognito's performance is when he introduced all the band, mentioning their country of origin. Tony, Imaani, Joy, Francis, Matt, Richard, Sid, Trevor, Paul ... ah, you were all great! And Bluey, you are really the star when you reminded us of One Love.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R99wMOXbOTI/AAAAAAAAAKk/GbMfKpkjgg8/s1600-h/DSC_2339.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178981451816450354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R99wMOXbOTI/AAAAAAAAAKk/GbMfKpkjgg8/s320/DSC_2339.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;this is Bluey's inspirational moment...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R99v5uXbOSI/AAAAAAAAAKc/QqFNm2CocYU/s1600-h/CIMG1058.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178981133988870434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R99v5uXbOSI/AAAAAAAAAKc/QqFNm2CocYU/s320/CIMG1058.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Lucky to meet Tony after the show ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, with so many good options, after all it was about enjoying different atmosphere from one hall to another. I was proud of Indonesian musicians too. Syaharani caught my senses in the very first afternoon. After her show then we started to familiarize ourselves with 19 show stages. Only I was a little disappointed by Dewi Sandra. She was not bad, but so not ready for Jazz. I couldn't feel her show flew into the comfortable ambience.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;We were caught by the charms of Dwiki Dharmawan's World Music, the Phinisi, Glenn Fredly, Incognito, Raoul Midon, Earth Wind and Fire Experience, Bubi Chen, Idang Rasyidi, Gypsy group from Southern France, Omar Sossa, Lima Wanita... and so many others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R99vt-XbORI/AAAAAAAAAKU/AjwmPPBDlB0/s1600-h/DSC_1985.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178980932125407506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R99vt-XbORI/AAAAAAAAAKU/AjwmPPBDlB0/s320/DSC_1985.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dwiki Darmawan's World Music performance. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Keyboard with Kolintang at the back. Nice!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Jeung Ita Purnamasari nonton juga loh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R99u-eXbOQI/AAAAAAAAAKM/o-FHiPusSRs/s1600-h/CIMG1059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178980116081621250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R99u-eXbOQI/AAAAAAAAAKM/o-FHiPusSRs/s320/CIMG1059.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dwiki out of the stage. Looks tired? of course, it was already 1 a.m.!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Above all the shows were good. I also enjoyed so much JDFI's simple stage with accoustic guitar of Mas Jubing. Innocent classical jazz and children songs were played. Took me from the Blue Moon to Venus. Pretty! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The only show I hated was the techno music. Too bad it was played so loudly next to Lima Wanita's show. The hall was empty with only less than 20 people inside dancing to ugly music (Sorry DJ...), with girls proudly sipping cigarettes, with high-looking looks, pretending to be sexy but totally not, empty eyes. So ugly. It is a potential hazard that could ruin the "clean" Jazzy mood that evening. Thank God, Jazz lovers stayed away from that hall. So I could see bright happy faces just some steps out of the door.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I was happy to be with people who can dance and cherish the music because of the music itself... not because of the stupid drugs or nicotine substances.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;For me, good music added with beutiful lyrics is like life. Sensations that I am sensing, the true beats and grooves that I am living in! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Thanks to God, to let the music lives in our soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Thanks to Ji - my Beebee, Lany - my lovely housemate, and Dede - my closest SSEAYP sister for completing the good times into the perfect one. Love you all! :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Bravo to Java Jazz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and, daysofagirl always says:&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SAY YES TO JAZZ, SAY NO TO DRUGS!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-5638642779933791697?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5638642779933791697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=5638642779933791697' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/5638642779933791697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/5638642779933791697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/03/what-feeling.html' title='What A Feeling!'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R994ouXbOaI/AAAAAAAAALc/0G0tWb28nog/s72-c/DSC_2137.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-2549586520967129766</id><published>2008-03-01T11:17:00.009+07:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T12:24:23.635+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Yourself</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R8jm07gscKI/AAAAAAAAAKE/5BnjkUVdvLY/s1600-h/wallpaper-madonna.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172637969037422754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R8jm07gscKI/AAAAAAAAAKE/5BnjkUVdvLY/s320/wallpaper-madonna.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;this gorgeous picture is taken from cyberextazy.wordpress.com&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love. I'm opening up my heart, and suddenly I just remember her. Madonna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People around me used to laugh when I said that Madonna is my idol. In Indonesia there many people think that Madonna is nothing but a bitchy figure, so I think that automatically I will look a little bitchy when I mentioned my name in my idol list. An extreme example, one day I edited a short video clip for disaster risk reduction education project for primary schools and I put a cut from Isaac, Madonna's song there. A 11 year old student stood up after he read the subtitle mentioning Madonna's name there. "&lt;em&gt;You should not put Madonna's song in education video for us. She's not a good woman!&lt;/em&gt;" Ouch...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered how I first found an article on Madonna. I was an elementary school student who had not even turn to 10 yet. I was impressed by the pictures. I loved to see her expression. She looked strong and gorgeous. Deeper than that, the article was about how hard she tried to reach her dream. It was when she couldn’t even afford to rent a flat, when she stripped to make money, when she was in the way of finding her image for public. I found her beautiful and strong, even at that time she likely tried too hard to look like Marilyn Monroe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really didn’t care about her voice that some people at that time mentioned to sound like Minnie Mouse. I didn’t even understand the meanings of her songs as English was still far away from my memory. I just found her great and cool, and in a way I wanted to be as brave as her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is an almost utopia for a Javanese girl like me to dare to be different, to expose myself as much as Madonna. I give my two thumbs up for her guts-exposing her sex appeals, being condemned and never give a damn of it. Self esteem is I think the key word of all. And that is the thing that I want to possess always. I want to be as brave as her, showing whatever I am and just let the world, as usual, judge me, but I will go on, brighter, flying higher. I was born not to be as extreme as her, but there are many things that I want to reveal without hesitation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is a paradox, just like what is mentioned in &lt;em&gt;Like It or Not&lt;/em&gt;. The things that some other people hate might be what the others love best. &lt;em&gt;Listen to Like It or Not&lt;/em&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“this is who I am, you can like it or not, you can love me or leave me coz I’m never gonna stop”&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is the thing that I want to say always. I wanna have my personal style and people hate me or love me all the way I am. Some narrow minded persons would call it selfish, but some wider minded person would call it personal choices that will color up plurality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Madonna and I look bad for some people to push the idea of like it or not, when you see only the above paragraph. But some people forget that she also has another dimension that I love: her hard work. She’s a living reminder that we can gain nothing if we don’t sweat. But hard work means more than that. It takes a brain. Creativeness, energy, management: see how Madonna never produced something boring. She knows how to innovate. She knows how to be good, in music, lyrics or looks. She knows how to manage all resources she needs, arranger up to the dancer, make up artist up to promotion. She can sing, she can dance, she can write, she can make story books for children. Tell me, how many people in this world can do the same thing as her?&lt;br /&gt;She’s a mother, a wife, a believer, and above all, she looks good. She knows how to love her body and soul. And I think, many times I have said that I wanna be in her shape when I turn 40. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She concerns about her environment. As brave as when she says her revenge in “You’ll See”. She makes me feel stronger. I am a woman with self-esteem. I wouldn’t cry for things that I can get better in very near future. That is I think, the way I learn to stand up again quickly after I fall. She never taught me to dream too high, but she tells me exactly how to stay tough. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why I feel that I’m so much in love again with her tonight? I’m finding back love in my life, and as it is said in &lt;em&gt;Something to Remember&lt;/em&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"...We weren't meant to be, at least not in this lifetime,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But you gave me something to remember&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I hear you still say, "Love yourself...."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got it. That's the idea of all her songs, of all the messages, of all the strengh. &lt;strong&gt;Love yourself. &lt;/strong&gt;(thanks also for my Habibi, for teaching me how to walk on that idea)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-2549586520967129766?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2549586520967129766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=2549586520967129766' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/2549586520967129766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/2549586520967129766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/03/love-yourself.html' title='Love Yourself'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R8jm07gscKI/AAAAAAAAAKE/5BnjkUVdvLY/s72-c/wallpaper-madonna.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-12108850371971321</id><published>2008-02-21T12:05:00.003+07:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T12:23:20.698+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Simeulue, Gempa Ayunanmu...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R70KZQxEHeI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/Fq2IP0_BXX8/s1600-h/neic_nran.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169299376404962786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R70KZQxEHeI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/Fq2IP0_BXX8/s320/neic_nran.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;map source: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://neic.usgs.gov/neis/eq_depot/2008/eq_080220_nran/neic_nran_l.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;USGS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Banda Aceh, 20 Februari 2008, 15:08 WIB. Bumi bergoyang lagi. Ini bukan kali pertama bumi bergoyang kencang selama aku tinggal di Aceh, tapi gempa kemarin itu terasa cukup lama. Aku sedang bersama teman-teman dari pemerintah provinsi, lembaga-lembaga UN, palang merah dan NGOs di tengah sesi diskusi workshop &lt;em&gt;disaster risk reduction in &lt;/em&gt;Aceh di aula pertemuan kantor gubernur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Practically, semua yang ada di dalam ruang pertemuan itu adalah praktisi pengurangan risiko bencana. Reaksinya pun bermacam-macam. Ada yang langsung menjauh dari jendela kaca, mendekat ke pilar, duduk dan memandangi lampu kristal yang bergoyang-goyang, berlindung di bawah meja. Dan aku, tetap duduk di kursiku sambil memangku laptop. Selain berusaha tetap kelihatan &lt;em&gt;cool&lt;/em&gt;, aku juga malas beranjak karena biasanya gempa akan segera berhenti. :p. &lt;em&gt;Which was wrong&lt;/em&gt;. Gempa semakin kuat, bumi bergeser ke kanan dan ke kiri, maju mundur, semakin kencang dan kuat. Akhirnya, semua langsung keluar dari ruangan, mengevakuasi diri ke lapangan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanah masih terus bergoyang, sampai aku merasa pusing dan sulit berdiri tegak. “Pose” paling aman yang kupilih adalah duduk di atas bongkahan beton sisa tsunami, memangku laptopku.&lt;br /&gt;Di sini sering terjadi gempa, tapi yang kemarin adalah yang paling kencang yang pernah kurasakan. Serem juga… Sudah tiga kali aku melewatkan gempa besar. Saat itu aku sedang tugas ke Jakarta, lalu di saat lain aku sedang liburan di Semarang, lalu di bulan November 2007, aku sedang di Bangkok. Saat aku kembali ke ruang rapat, aku bertemu reporter Sinabang FM yang pernah kutawari untuk ikut training pengurangan risiko bencana. Wajahnya sedih banget, menyampaikan bahwa Sinabang (ibukota Kabupaten Simeulue) ngga bisa dihubungi…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Setelah itu orang-orang PMI yang ikut workshop langsung sibuk dengan radionya. Koneksi telepon ke Simeulue putus total.&lt;br /&gt;Di SATKORLAK, aku langsung melihat RANET &lt;em&gt;Tsunami Early Warning System network&lt;/em&gt;. Hatiku langsung sedih banget begitu lihat di system kalo gempanya adalah gempa darat. Sudah terbayang pasti ada korban, dan ternyata benar. Ingat bahwa gempa Jogja 2006 berskala 6.3 SR. Sekarang, Simeulue itu pulau kecil, dan dihajar gempa 6.6 SR. Kebayang kan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sedihnya lagi, di malam hari saat nonton Suara Anda di Metro TV, ngga ada satupun yang memilih berita gempa Sumatra. Yang dipilih malah berita tentang mantan direktur BI, krisis listrik di Jawa dan gedung berputar di Brazil. Padahal aku dan temanku ngebela-belain ngga pulang-pulang dari kafe itu biar bisa nonton beritanya. Ternyata memang bener ya, kalau kita tinggal di Jawa kita melihat Indonesia dengan mata yang berbeda… &lt;em&gt;very often, not as an entity&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malam aku berusaha menghubungi seorang kepala sekolah dan murid SMP yang Oktober 2007 kami ikutkan ke workshop disaster risk reduction di Bangkok. SMS ngga terkirim, ditelpon juga masih belum bisa. Sedih banget rasanya…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagi ini e-mailku terisi data korban terbaru dari PMI, Harian Serambi Indonesia menyebutkan 3 meninggal dan 49 luka-luka, plus foto-foto kepanikan dari Meulaboh dari seorang teman UN di Meulaboh dikirim ke mailing list UNDP ERTR. Teman di SATKORLAK pagi ini berangkat ke Sinabang dengan pesawat Cassa untuk assessment bantuan yang diperlukan bersama jajaran MUSPIDA. Tapi sepertinya nun jauh di Jawa sana, gempa ini cukup sepi dari perhatian ya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sekarang aku semakin tahu rasanya jadi penduduk di pulau luar Jawa. Apalagi Simeulue adalah pulau kecil yang kalau penduduknya mau ke Banda Aceh, ibukota provinsinya, aja harus nunggu pesawat yang terbang 2x seminggu, atau naik ferry 2 hari…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, penduduk di sana sudah terbiasa hidup dengan gempa. Tadi malam aku bicara dengan Ibu Suraiya, Ibu Kos-ku yang cerdas dan baik hati. Kata beliau, Simeulue sering sekali dilanda gempa. Tahun 2002, di atas 7 SR, lalu 2004 dan 2005, di atas 8 SR, lalu tahun lalu, di atas 6 SR. Hampir bisa dipastikan bahwa tiap tahun mereka dilanda gempa di atas 6 SR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meski demikian, saat wilayahnya cukup parah dilanda tsunami 2004, hanya 7 orang yang meninggal, karena mereka punya budaya mengenali dan menyelamatkan diri dari &lt;em&gt;Smong&lt;/em&gt;, alias tsunami – bahwa kalau ada gempa besar, mereka harus langsung lari ke gunung. Sampai-sampai sajak tua di sana bertutur, &lt;em&gt;“gempa ayunanmu, smong air mandimu…” &lt;/em&gt;(serem ya?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ilmu menyelamatkan diri ini sudah didata sebagai salah satu kearifan lokal yang dikenali oleh UNESCO dan UN-ISDR (badan PBB untuk pengurangan risiko bencana). Untuk itu tahun lalu aku dapat tugas “berburu” satu orang guru dan satu orang siswa dari Simeulue untuk datang dan bicara di Konferensi PBB tentang Pengurangan Risiko Bencana untuk Asia Pasifik di Bangkok itu…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Local wisdom&lt;/em&gt;, atau kearifan lokal, bila terus dijaga sebagai &lt;em&gt;living culture&lt;/em&gt;, memang biasanya membuat manusia lebih akrab dengan “bahasa alam”. Jadi saat alam “bicara”, mereka akan tahu bagaimana meresponnya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pagi ini SMS dari Bebi, siswi dari Simeulue yang mewakili Indonesia di Konferensi itu, baru masuk ke HP-ku. &lt;em&gt;“Bebi masih di dekat gunung mbak… Gimana Banda?”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, Bebi, sempat-sempatnya bertanya soal Banda.&lt;br /&gt;Gempa memang ayunanmu; Semoga Tuhan selalu melindungimu….&lt;br /&gt;Amiin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-12108850371971321?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/12108850371971321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=12108850371971321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/12108850371971321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/12108850371971321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/02/simeulue-gempa-ayunanmu.html' title='Simeulue, Gempa Ayunanmu...'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R70KZQxEHeI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/Fq2IP0_BXX8/s72-c/neic_nran.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-1209459593804599425</id><published>2008-02-07T15:30:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T17:39:41.472+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dari Februari ke Februari</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rN0Gz6PmI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/EL1N_BK4zPw/s1600-h/DSCN5990.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164166217798925922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rN0Gz6PmI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/EL1N_BK4zPw/s320/DSCN5990.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Fast track: itulah satu-satunya kata yang muncul di kepalaku saat berusaha mencari istilah yang tepat buat menggambarkan satu tahun di Aceh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satu tahun ternyata tak terasa lama. Dari bulan Februari 2007 sampai ke Februari 2008 hari-hariku sangat penuh terisi dengan berbagai pekerjaan, pengalaman baru, persahabatan, meski ada juga cerita-cerita yang ngga begitu asyik buat diceritakan. Tapi hidup memang begitu kan? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sebagai Liaison Associate di "Big Blue Nations", aku mulai dari nol, tanpa satupun kontak ada di daftar buku alamatku. Hari ini, hampir semua jalan yang kubutuhkan telah terbuka lebar. Banyak pula tempat baru yang bisa kudatangi. Teman baru, rumah baru, dan hobi baru juga terdaftar di agendaku.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ini statistiknya...&lt;br /&gt;Keluarga:&lt;br /&gt;1 adik ipar baru :D&lt;br /&gt;Puluhan sepupu baru yang tersebar mulai di Bangladesh, Canada sampai Mauritius&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Project:&lt;br /&gt;1 project besar, yang di dalamnya aku mengerjakan kegiatan-kegiatan hubungan masyarakat dengan stakeholders eksternal ataupun internal dan informasi publik. Susah mengingat berapa pastinya jumlah rapat yang kudatangi, tapi aku yakin, jumlahnya lebih dari 100. 2 iklan layanan masyarakat di TV, 2 iklan layanan masyarakat di radio, 10,000 lembar materi informasi publik, puluhan banners, satu training buat wartawan, satu event pengurangan risiko bencana, 150 anak peserta lomba gambar, dan kepercayaan, dari teman-teman CSO maupun bapak-ibu di pemerintahan, yang tidak bisa terukur dengan angka...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kantor:&lt;br /&gt;3x pindah kantor, dari UNDP di Jl. Kesatria, lalu ke kantor di Jl. Bhakti, dan sekarang di Kantor Gubernur, Jl. T. Nyak Arief... seru kan? :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teman kerja:&lt;br /&gt;5 orang resign dari unitku dalam setahun ini. Turn over yang luar biasa kan? sekarang akulah yang paling lama ada di unit DRR! ckckck....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driver:&lt;br /&gt;3x ganti driver juga... Bang Ismadi, Ridha, sekarang Bang Zulfaqa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rumah Kost:&lt;br /&gt;3 kali pindah juga, dua pertama diakhiri dengan pengalaman buruk, mulai dari pelecehan sampai motif materialistik. Alhamdulillah, yang sekarang baik banget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makanan kesukaan baru:&lt;br /&gt;Ayam Tangkap, Ikan Bakar Awak Away, Sup daging Langsa, Kepiting Goreng... :p Nyam!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Berat Badan (langsung berhubungan nih...)&lt;br /&gt;Nambah 3 kilo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tinggi Badan:&lt;br /&gt;Sayang ngga nambah-nambah...hehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hobi Baru:&lt;br /&gt;Main ke laut, berenang (pakai pelampung pastinya) di laut, lari-lari di pantai, nonton DVD kalau lagi ngga bisa bobo malam-malam, snorkeling, karaoke (ini hobi baru atau lama yak?), makan kepiting rame-rame di Rex&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pulau Baru:&lt;br /&gt;Pulau Weh, Ryukyuu, Samosir, Nias, Rubiah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traveling for Duties:&lt;br /&gt;Sabang, Meulaboh, Nias, Medan, Jakarta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traveling for Pleasure:&lt;br /&gt;Pulau Weh dan sekitarnya, Okinawa - Jepang, mampir di Hongkong dan Taiwan, Medan, Parapat - Toba - Samosir, Berastagi, KL, Bangkok, Ayyuthaya, Aliran Chao Praya, Dhaka - Bangladesh, Jakarta, Jogja (duh, kalau lihat begini banyak jalan-jalannya, kapan dong kerjanya? :D)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Koleksi Baju:&lt;br /&gt;500% peningkatan jumlah baju lengan panjang, rok panjang, celana longgar dan, tentu saja, kerudung!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yang jauuuhhh berbeda:&lt;br /&gt;No longer within my French love story&lt;br /&gt;I feel happier&lt;br /&gt;I feel more positive&lt;br /&gt;Aku ngga lagi sering merasa kesepian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yang tetap sama dari dulu:&lt;br /&gt;Cita-cita untuk membuat Indonesia jadi tempat yang lebih baik buat semuanya.&lt;br /&gt;Menikmati hidup dan segala kesempatan yang ada dengan penuh rasa syukur&lt;br /&gt;Kerja lembur, demi hasil maksimal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan berikut, foto-foto dari hari-hari indah dari Februari ke Februari... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rNcmz6PlI/AAAAAAAAAJs/YJk1IjvZF2Q/s1600-h/DSCN4032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164165814072000082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rNcmz6PlI/AAAAAAAAAJs/YJk1IjvZF2Q/s320/DSCN4032.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;My sista's wedding, Okinawa - Japan, March 2007&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rNEWz6PkI/AAAAAAAAAJk/EJDWSt4kMJY/s1600-h/DSCN4228.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164165397460172354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rNEWz6PkI/AAAAAAAAAJk/EJDWSt4kMJY/s320/DSCN4228.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Okinawa Ocean Park, March 2007 (my 4th visit to Japan!) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rMw2z6PjI/AAAAAAAAAJc/0ieXJ9FDkj4/s1600-h/DSCN7862.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164165062452723250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rMw2z6PjI/AAAAAAAAAJc/0ieXJ9FDkj4/s320/DSCN7862.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Still the friends of mine! (my SSEAYP Family...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rMcmz6PiI/AAAAAAAAAJU/yUtbmooBo0c/s1600-h/DSCN6633.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164164714560372258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rMcmz6PiI/AAAAAAAAAJU/yUtbmooBo0c/s320/DSCN6633.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I'm living in tsunami zone now..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rMGWz6PhI/AAAAAAAAAJM/YN6hyZCIEic/s1600-h/DSCN5870.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164164332308282898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rMGWz6PhI/AAAAAAAAAJM/YN6hyZCIEic/s320/DSCN5870.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Speed boating from Samosir Island, Toba Lake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rL0Wz6PgI/AAAAAAAAAJE/8TJqN9tENos/s1600-h/DSCN5765.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164164023070637570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rL0Wz6PgI/AAAAAAAAAJE/8TJqN9tENos/s320/DSCN5765.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Beautiful Toba and Samosir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rK92z6PfI/AAAAAAAAAI8/TRfseFKiR4g/s1600-h/DSCN7681.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164163086767767026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rK92z6PfI/AAAAAAAAAI8/TRfseFKiR4g/s320/DSCN7681.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Terbang ke Nias dengan UNHAS, pesawat PBB &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rKoGz6PeI/AAAAAAAAAI0/esheo_MwL60/s1600-h/strorytelling.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164162713105612258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rKoGz6PeI/AAAAAAAAAI0/esheo_MwL60/s320/strorytelling.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mendongeng bersama Agus PM Toh :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rKRWz6PdI/AAAAAAAAAIs/Mam1y6_C4io/s1600-h/DSCN8642.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164162322263588306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rKRWz6PdI/AAAAAAAAAIs/Mam1y6_C4io/s320/DSCN8642.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Saturday Morning Biking (alias pit-pitan..hehehe..) to Ujong Batee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rJ72z6PcI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Pp80_DtESZo/s1600-h/DSC_4953.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164161952896400834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rJ72z6PcI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Pp80_DtESZo/s320/DSC_4953.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;di Chao Praya &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rJomz6PbI/AAAAAAAAAIc/IS3fmGAg-fo/s1600-h/DSC_4824.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164161622183919026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rJomz6PbI/AAAAAAAAAIc/IS3fmGAg-fo/s320/DSC_4824.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Ayyuthaya (Mmm... Borobudur jauh lebih bagus sih...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rJWmz6PaI/AAAAAAAAAIU/l55tlRZ-w2U/s1600-h/DSC_4749.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164161312946273698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rJWmz6PaI/AAAAAAAAAIU/l55tlRZ-w2U/s320/DSC_4749.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kantor Regional PBB, Bangkok&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rJD2z6PZI/AAAAAAAAAIM/KO-grFePAYE/s1600-h/DSCN8910.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164160990823726482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rJD2z6PZI/AAAAAAAAAIM/KO-grFePAYE/s320/DSCN8910.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Akhirnya, bisa juga naik ke Sky Bridge Petronas Tower!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rIo2z6PYI/AAAAAAAAAIE/AnkUpdABEVc/s1600-h/P7120156.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164160526967258498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rIo2z6PYI/AAAAAAAAAIE/AnkUpdABEVc/s320/P7120156.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Resepsi adikku di Dhaka, Bangladesh. Yahooo, ini pertama kalinya aku pakai saree!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rIX2z6PXI/AAAAAAAAAH8/nwzdJfQkulo/s1600-h/CIMG4140.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164160234909482354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rIX2z6PXI/AAAAAAAAAH8/nwzdJfQkulo/s320/CIMG4140.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Charming villagers di Savar...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rH8mz6PWI/AAAAAAAAAH0/ImP7hJdP3Fo/s1600-h/P7121101.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164159766758047074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rH8mz6PWI/AAAAAAAAAH0/ImP7hJdP3Fo/s320/P7121101.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sista hug! (di belakang itu gedung parlemennya Bangladesh)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rHuGz6PVI/AAAAAAAAAHs/Fn6W-Whr8GU/s1600-h/DSCN9427.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164159517649943890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rHuGz6PVI/AAAAAAAAAHs/Fn6W-Whr8GU/s320/DSCN9427.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ladang mustardku yang pertama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rGe2z6PUI/AAAAAAAAAHk/i5CIctSd69s/s1600-h/lovingful+sunset.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164158156145311042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rGe2z6PUI/AAAAAAAAAHk/i5CIctSd69s/s320/lovingful+sunset.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sunset di nol kilometer Indonesia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rF_Wz6PTI/AAAAAAAAAHc/-z-xxFofDy8/s1600-h/Me+and+Ji+at+zero+kilometer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164157614979431730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rF_Wz6PTI/AAAAAAAAAHc/-z-xxFofDy8/s320/Me+and+Ji+at+zero+kilometer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nol kilometer di kakiku :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rFumz6PSI/AAAAAAAAAHU/cf7GXt5igHg/s1600-h/snorkel+with+kur.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164157327216622882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rFumz6PSI/AAAAAAAAAHU/cf7GXt5igHg/s320/snorkel+with+kur.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Belajar snorkeling lagi di pulau Rubiah (makasih banyak ya Kur...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rE_2z6PRI/AAAAAAAAAHM/h4_oCwKVV0k/s1600-h/ready+to+snorkel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164156524057738514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rE_2z6PRI/AAAAAAAAAHM/h4_oCwKVV0k/s320/ready+to+snorkel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Di perairan Pulau Weh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rEnGz6PQI/AAAAAAAAAHE/50KQnLwYxxE/s1600-h/uleelheue+afsel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164156098855976194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rEnGz6PQI/AAAAAAAAAHE/50KQnLwYxxE/s320/uleelheue+afsel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;kunjungan menteri dari Afrika Selatan di Ulee Lheue&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rEFWz6PPI/AAAAAAAAAG8/xvD4oG78fPo/s1600-h/korlap+hehehe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164155519035391218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rEFWz6PPI/AAAAAAAAAG8/xvD4oG78fPo/s320/korlap+hehehe.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I am not an Acehnese but I am proud to introduce Aceh..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rDbGz6POI/AAAAAAAAAG0/2kdTGR4eqew/s1600-h/south+africa+n+i+lampuuk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164154793185918178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rDbGz6POI/AAAAAAAAAG0/2kdTGR4eqew/s320/south+africa+n+i+lampuuk.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; "Selamat datang di Masjid Rahmatullah, Lampuuk,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;satu-satunya bangunan yang masih tegak berdiri di desa ini meski dihajar tsunami"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rDH2z6PNI/AAAAAAAAAGs/P-5oUYcDxHI/s1600-h/ibu+gubernur.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164154462473436370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rDH2z6PNI/AAAAAAAAAGs/P-5oUYcDxHI/s320/ibu+gubernur.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bareng Ibu Gubernur. Cantik ya!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rCpmz6PMI/AAAAAAAAAGk/4WozUgcJBnQ/s1600-h/meligoe3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164153942782393538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rCpmz6PMI/AAAAAAAAAGk/4WozUgcJBnQ/s320/meligoe3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; ternyata meski sudah di Aceh masih nge-MC juga...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Meligoe, 4 Februari 2008, tepat setahun setelah aku tiba di Aceh)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rCU2z6PLI/AAAAAAAAAGc/0uInNwMNwPo/s1600-h/meligoe+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5164153586300107954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rCU2z6PLI/AAAAAAAAAGc/0uInNwMNwPo/s320/meligoe+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Aku, merasa bersyukur, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Allah memberi banyak warna indah di hidupku.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alhamdulillaah... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-1209459593804599425?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1209459593804599425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=1209459593804599425' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/1209459593804599425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/1209459593804599425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2008/02/dari-februari-ke-februari.html' title='Dari Februari ke Februari'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/R6rN0Gz6PmI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/EL1N_BK4zPw/s72-c/DSCN5990.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-1424795565176654513</id><published>2007-12-22T19:40:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T19:53:37.204+07:00</updated><title type='text'>KL, Almost Christmas</title><content type='html'>KL, almost Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;The Chinatown is buzzling with crowds, and Christmas songs are in the air. In Suria KLCC, in my tiny hotel, I am alone and I feel lost. I am in the crowd and I am invisible. I am in the noisy street but my heart stays in silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It feels really different to walk on the same street when I am alone and when I am in love. It feels less exciting to see things around when I am accompanied and when I am alone. Maybe, it's the time for me to learn; exploring the spaces in loneliness, with none to talk to, with ideas that only can be spoken through the mails, or in my MS words files.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a bit torturing here. The fake glam brands sold in the street market look like me. Shining in fake states, pretty but empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna run away to the Backpaker's Reggae Bar an melt in the fun in my sneakers and in my oh-so casual outfits. But I know I'll still feel lonely.&lt;br /&gt;I wanna grab my pretty little black dress and hop in cozy clubs. But I know there is no love for me there.&lt;br /&gt;So I will be here. Sitting in my windowless room, imagining that out there, there might be some people walking as lonely as I am, in the midst of couples in love, and the scent of Char Kwe Tiaw or mee Hokkien.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KL, almost Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;It's the third time that I am here, and I feel so lost...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-1424795565176654513?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1424795565176654513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=1424795565176654513' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/1424795565176654513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/1424795565176654513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2007/12/kl-almost-christmas.html' title='KL, Almost Christmas'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-8473805633235722858</id><published>2007-11-25T00:00:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T07:01:17.884+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sungai yang Membawa Hidup</title><content type='html'>Ah, Bangkok!&lt;br /&gt;Sudah empat tahun aku meninggalkannya. Sejak kemarin, aku kembali menjelajahinya.&lt;br /&gt;Hari ini aku berjalan-jalan bersama paket wisata ke Ayyuthaya, ibukota Thai sebelum Bangkok. Untuk kermbali ke Bangkok kelompok kami naik perahu pesiar menyusuri Meu Nam (Sungai) Chao Praya. Di sepanjang ingatanku aku berpikir, inilah sungai yang membawa kehidupan. Tak hanya airnya yang mengairi sawah-sawah, namun juga luasnya membawa berkah, menghidupkan kota-kota di sepanjang alirannya dengan pasar terapung, pengangkut kayu gelondongan, atau kapal pesiar. Ini yang disebut peradaban sungai. Bahkan Istana Musim Panas Bang Pa In berdiri karena sang Pangeran bertemu dengan gadis desa cantik saat terdampar karena badai...&lt;br /&gt;Foto menyusul ya... :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Banglamphu, Minggu, 25 November, 00:02.&lt;br /&gt;Dentuman musik masih hingar bingar di luar sana. Ribuan manusia masih memadati jalur-jalur ke Pier 13, wajah-wajah bahagia berjalan di "catwalk" terpanjang yang pernah kulihat.&lt;br /&gt;Catwalk? Ya. Jalan-jalan di sini penuh manusia dari berbagai bangsa. Duduk di Sawasdee Bar, aku mengamati orang-orang yang berlalu lalang. Tidak ada yang berpakaian sama. Semua terlihat berwarna, semua tampil seperti apa adanya mereka. Aku juga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loy Krathong, Festival Cahaya sedang berlangsung malam ini. Lilin-lilin dihayutkan di Chao Praya, lengkap bersama sesaji...&lt;br /&gt;-BERSAMBUNG-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-8473805633235722858?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8473805633235722858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=8473805633235722858' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/8473805633235722858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/8473805633235722858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2007/11/sunga-yang-membawa-hidup.html' title='Sungai yang Membawa Hidup'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-5145994320071231200</id><published>2007-11-16T19:46:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T20:32:38.945+07:00</updated><title type='text'>TAKING THE FRONT-LINERS TO SEE DISASTER FROM DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVES</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/Rz2ZO5x3f7I/AAAAAAAAAGU/Z5nlyFAATO8/s1600-h/mb1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133427631579430834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/Rz2ZO5x3f7I/AAAAAAAAAGU/Z5nlyFAATO8/s320/mb1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It was a sunny morning when eighteen journalists from print and broadcast media walked out of Grand Nanggroe Aceh Hotel in Banda Aceh. They looked enthusiastic, heading to UNDP cars and mingling with their journalist fellows. Those journalists were not only from Banda Aceh but also from Meulaboh, Takengon, Lhokseumawe, Simeulue and Padang. They went to observe the application of Disaster Risk Reduction Concepts at Ujong Batee as the eye-opener part of the Media Briefing on Disaster Risk Reduction held on 28 September 2007. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The briefing was aimed to equip the journalists with sufficient knowledge of DRR. My idea was that the media persons are the front-liners of public awareness development in DRR. It is expected that the briefing will develop their sensitivity, widen their knowledge and encourage them to assist in developing public awareness on disaster issues. It is also expected that this briefing will strengthen the networking between UNDP and media.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The youngest participant, Ririn, a 19 year-old reporter from Suara Sinabang FM of Simeulue was a little nervous when she arrived in the morning. “I am shy,” she admitted, “…because I have not got enough journalistic experience as the others here, and this is my first training out of my office.” But only 40 minutes after her arrival, she sat comfortably at the front seat of the car, admitting; “it is exciting.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The trip was aimed to introduce good DRR practices in real life, thus Robin Willison, the DRR Unit advisor guided them to a housing area in Ujong Batee. The neighborhood is only 300 meters from the beach but is safe from tsunami because they were built on the high ground. “You can see from here that they live very close to the hazards, but they do not have to become the victim when tsunami strikes. Their lives, homes, and properties will be safe even if major tsunami strikes.” Robin pointed to the sea, as the journalists were observing the view. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The sight from above the hill was paradoxal in the eyes of people who used to think that disaster was merely a fate that they cannot avoid. Hamzah, the chairperson of the Independent Journalist Alliance of Kota Banda Aceh admitted, “I see Ujong Batee with different perspective now. It is very interesting. Discussing hazard, capacity and vulnerability with Robin here got me the ideas of living safely with the living hazards around.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/Rz2V-5x3f6I/AAAAAAAAAGM/RSs3q5_S7wU/s1600-h/mb5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133424058166640546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/Rz2V-5x3f6I/AAAAAAAAAGM/RSs3q5_S7wU/s320/mb5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;After the trip they had a movie screening session and brainstorming on DRR concepts from the “Surviving Disasters: Earthquake” produced by the Discovery Channel. Amin Magatani, the Program Manager of MPBI, the Indonesian Society of Disaster Management, facilitated the session. Ramadan Fasting seemed to have no effect to the participants. Everyone was very active in the discussions as Robin explained DRR more about concepts in his presentation. As journalists, they have seen many phenomena, and read many data. The session was alive with comparisons on DRR theories to what they have learned. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Media lectures followed the DRR sessions. First lecture was on public opinion, facilitated by Nurdin Hasan, a senior print media journalist, and second on producing broadcast media news facilitated by Zulkarnain Lubis, a senior broadcaster. Both of the facilitators emphasized the power of media to develop public opinion and awareness. The journalists then wrote news scripts on what they have learned that day then presented their works to their fellows. The script reading round-up were bustling with ovations, as different journalists presented the scripts with different styles. Comments and inputs from the facilitators added the ones from the participants to improve the structure of the scripts and the way they were presented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A whole day sessions then concluded as the Maghrib time signal rang. Everyone gathered in the dining room to break the fasting and enjoyed the dinner. On the questionnaire forms left in the meeting room, many of them wrote, “it is a good event”, “I learned something new”, and “we wish that we could have more regular journalistic training on disaster issues.” That day, they have seen different facets of disaster issues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Again, I am happy to be in a place where I can share important knowledge to others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Thanks to the media where I used to work, and all my trainers, without them I would never had any ideas of that day's media briefing at all. :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-5145994320071231200?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5145994320071231200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=5145994320071231200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/5145994320071231200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/5145994320071231200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2007/11/taking-front-liners-to-see-disaster.html' title='TAKING THE FRONT-LINERS TO SEE DISASTER FROM DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVES'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/Rz2ZO5x3f7I/AAAAAAAAAGU/Z5nlyFAATO8/s72-c/mb1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-7106313913090294599</id><published>2007-09-19T12:25:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T13:05:59.778+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meugang Pertamaku</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Meugang.&lt;br /&gt;Apa sih itu?&lt;br /&gt;Mungkin teman-teman dari luar Aceh bahkan tidak tahu bagaimana cara membaca kata itu dengan benar. Gampang kok, bacanya seperti “-megang” dalam kata “memegang”. Ini hari yang menandai datangnya bulan Ramadan di Aceh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Di sini Meugang dirayakan sehari sampai dua hari sebelum Ramadan, di mana kantor-kantor pemerintahan, jalan-jalan dan sekolah jadi sepi, artis nggak mau shooting (berlaku buat artis yang kami &lt;em&gt;hire &lt;/em&gt;untuk produksi iklan layanan masyarakat, sampai pak produser bela-belain traveling ke Lhokseumawe untuk mendatangi langsung ke rumahnya), saat pasar-pasar ikan berubah jadi pasar daging yang menjual daging sapi atau kambing, bahkan trotoar pun dipenuhi pedagang daging, dan saat kita melewati kampung-kampung, bau masakan berbahan dasar daging semerbak di udara (keterangan terakhir ini kukutip dari impresi Bang Zul, driver kami…). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Headline &lt;/em&gt;di koran lokal mengangkat isu naiknya harga daging dan semua orang di sekretariat SATKORLAK tempatku numpang ngantor datang terlambat dan pulang awal, padahal sirine di komputer yang terhubung dengan pusat informasi gempa dan tsunami nasional terus berbunyi gara-gara rangkaian gempa mulai dari Fak-fak di Indonesia Barat sampai Bengkulu dan Painan di Indonesia Barat.&lt;/span&gt; Fiuh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sampai hari ini aku belum menemukan orang yang bisa menjelaskan asal-usul meugang. Semuanya cuma bilang kalaui ini adalah hari saat orang Aceh berkumpul bersama keluarga. Makan daging sepuasnya jadi acara utama, seperti memuaskan hasrat duniawi sebelum menjalankan puasa sebulan penuh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kedengarannya menyenangkan ya? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tapi tidak demikian ceritanya kalau kita jadi anak kos. Ini adalah saat prihatin. Hampir tidak ada warung makan yang buka,padahal kebanyakan anak kos perlu “logistik” untuk bekal makan sahur. Jadilah semalam aku dan Uni Lany berputar-putar dari kawasan Lampineung, Ulee Kareng sampai Lambhuk tanpa hasil. Semua warung makan tutup, mulai dari warung kecil sampai rumah makan yang biasanya dipenuhi para pelanggan bermobil. Untung saja bapak ibu kost-ku baik hati, mengundang anak-anak angkatnya buat menikmati 4 jenis hidangan daging di ruang makan mereka: ada kari, semur, rendang dan paru goreng (yang terakhir itu makanan kesukaanku!:). Terkesima juga, karena hidangan yang disajikan di atas meja betul-betul buanyak padahal harga daging selama Meugang naik 4-5 kali lipat.&lt;/span&gt; Senangnya..senangnya....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Walhasil, dari semua cerita di atas aku bisa menyimpulkan kalau kesimpulan dari pengalaman Meugang pertamaku adalah &lt;em&gt;bitter sweet memory&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bitter &lt;/em&gt;karena kantor-kantor pemerintahan hampir kosong dan aku jadi kehilangan semangat kerja, juga gara-gara kami dicekam kewaspadaan pasca peringatan tsunami, senewen akibat beruntunnya bunyi sirine peringatan gempa, tegang saat kami mengikuti perkembangan berita, dan nyesek setelah merasakan berputar-putar tanpa menemukan warung makan yang buka meski sudah menebalkan muka melewati gerombolan ABG yang pulang dari shalat tarawih yang tak henti-henti bersuit-suit saat ada cewek lewat, dan &lt;em&gt;sweet &lt;/em&gt;karena kami dijamu hidangan meugang oleh keluarga Ibu Suraiya yang baik hati. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Perlu dicatat, ini momen bersejarah karena inilah pertama kalinya ketiga penghuni kamar kos di rumah kami makan bersama dalam satu meja – Jakob si kandidat master manajemen sampah dari Vienna, Austria, kak Lany dari Padang yang sesorean lemas gara-gara cemas mengikuti kabar terbaru dari Padang pasca gempa, dan aku. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So that was it, meugang pertamaku. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-7106313913090294599?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7106313913090294599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=7106313913090294599' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/7106313913090294599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/7106313913090294599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2007/09/meugang-pertamaku.html' title='Meugang Pertamaku'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-3266642080465595170</id><published>2007-07-10T21:03:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T21:52:03.941+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mid Way</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A question on where should I belong blocked my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was in the world of physical beauty, people said that I was smart, but not beautiful enough to be displayed on screen. I fit as a person behind the screen who should do the thinking, not to be the front liner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now when I work in the world of trully brainy people, they said that I am too pretty to be smart. They agreed that the works that fit me is the works where I am displayed, and not doing too many thinking. Some says that I don't fit in community work because I am a high-level communicator. I am not for the grassroot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Does beauty always equal to less brainy, and smartness always equals to less pretty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It breaks my heart a little. I just want to be a useful person, wherever I am. Some says that if you want to be a successful person, you must be outstanding. There must be something extra that you offer. You can't sit on two chairs if you want to sit still. You must be defined. Absolutely something. Distinguished. Like separated black and white circles, without grey insersection area. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I think it over. When there's two different opinions from two different groups then maybe I am in the grey zone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I am in a mid way like this, then I have more ways to walk on in any business. I can be close to both black and white circle, while I still have a space in grey. Behind or in front of the screen, my less smart brain or my less pretty face will work, together or solely. And the only business I want to be is the business of building a better place to live for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe not a place, but SOME places then. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-3266642080465595170?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3266642080465595170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=3266642080465595170' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/3266642080465595170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/3266642080465595170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2007/07/mid-way.html' title='Mid Way'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-1914509889778766809</id><published>2007-04-25T01:28:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-04-25T01:35:17.295+07:00</updated><title type='text'>When I am....</title><content type='html'>Sudah hampir tiga bulan aku di Aceh, tapi tak banyak waktu yang tersela buat menulis.&lt;br /&gt;Malam ini, di Jakarta, saat jalan-jalan di bawah sana telah senyap, aku baru bisa "bicara".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sayangnya kadang tak banyak yang bisa dibicarakan saat rasa tak membuka pikir buat berkata. Di &lt;a href="http://javaflavapuisi.blogspot.com"&gt;puisiku&lt;/a&gt; aku berbagi cerita. Mungkin ada yang merasa sama?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;em&gt;thanks mbak Ika&amp;Rudy, for the nice dinner, free accommodation and internet connection&lt;/em&gt;...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-1914509889778766809?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1914509889778766809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=1914509889778766809' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/1914509889778766809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/1914509889778766809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2007/04/when-i-am.html' title='When I am....'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-2963248887216355750</id><published>2007-02-16T08:33:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T15:00:03.645+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saleum dari Aceh</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdUWmsguNLI/AAAAAAAAAFc/V6UrHUD3A4Q/s1600-h/DSCN3209.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031953012695643314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdUWmsguNLI/AAAAAAAAAFc/V6UrHUD3A4Q/s320/DSCN3209.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Saleum!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Tak ada yang pernah benar-benar menjelaskan kepadaku sebelumnya, seperti apa Banda Aceh hari ini. Kabar terakhir yang kudapat tentang wajah Aceh datang dari teman kerjaku dari DAI-USAID. Dia sempat mendapat tugas melakukan assessment di Aceh 6 bulan pasca Tsunami dan setahun sesudahnya. Katanya, &lt;em&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Aceh was totally devastated, but one year after that it was developing, but I don’t know how far it has developed now.”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdUVgMguNKI/AAAAAAAAAFU/jt1ClnNAeHk/s1600-h/lingke-ulee+kr+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031951801514865826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdUVgMguNKI/AAAAAAAAAFU/jt1ClnNAeHk/s320/lingke-ulee+kr+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;ada yang masih tertinggal...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdUUJMguNJI/AAAAAAAAAFM/whEY6DoQNEg/s1600-h/lingke-ulee+kr+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031950306866246802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdUUJMguNJI/AAAAAAAAAFM/whEY6DoQNEg/s320/lingke-ulee+kr+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; ada yang telah mulai dibangun...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdUSwMguNII/AAAAAAAAAFE/YxVF5Tdhufo/s1600-h/lingke-ulee+kr+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031948777857889410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdUSwMguNII/AAAAAAAAAFE/YxVF5Tdhufo/s320/lingke-ulee+kr+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt; ada pula lantai tertinggal tanpa pernah dibangun kembali, saat seluruh keluarga telah berpulang...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bayangan kedua yang kudapat tentang Banda adalah mahalnya biaya hidup di sini. Seorang teman, penyiar radio yang kukenal sejak awal 2004 bilang, harga tempat kos bisa mencapai dua jutaan, untuk sebuah kamar kecil dengan kamar mandi luar tanpa perabotan. Sementara harga kamar di UN guest house juga tak kalah mahalnya untuk ukuran Indonesia, 150 dollar sebulan, untuk sebuah kamar mungil tanpa kamar mandi. Padahal di Denpasar dengan harga itu sahabatku bisa mendapatkan sebuah flat mungil dengan ruang duduk, pantry dan kamar mandi yang dilengkapi dengan bath tube. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Berita di TV tak kalah membuat miris. Segala berita tentang Aceh selalu menggambarkan suasana di barak pengungsi atau banjir di Aceh Tamiang. Hm, karena itulah aku tak berharap melihat banyak hal di sini. Tapi aku juga tak akan kecewa atau surut, dengan kondisi apapun yang akan kuhadapi. Tinggal di kota kecil Cepu saat menjalani proyek community development assessment, hari-hari di camp darurat PMI pasca gempa Klaten atau bulan-bulan saat aku menjalani pemantauan Pemilu di Purwokerto kupikir telah cukup membuatku belajar untuk bertahan dengan sepinya hari-hari, sulitnya mencari sarana transportasi umum di malam hari atau sekedar tempat fotokopi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Minggu, 4 Februari 2006, setelah kekacauan di bandara Ahmad Yani Semarang karena kerusakan radar di Garuda Indonesia, perjuangan mendapatkan seat di Sriwijaya Air di antara para penumpang yang panik, lalu berlari-lari mengejar shuttle bus dengan bagasi 33 kilo di tanganku dari terminal 1 Cengkareng sampai ke terminal 2, akhirnya aku bisa juga mengejar connecting flight ke Banda Aceh tepat waktu. Yang membuatku bangga, aku juga masih sempat memasang jilbab hijauku dengan rapi di toilet bandara. What a morning! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Cuaca Jakarta yang mendung segera terlewat dan berganti dengan birunya langit di atas pulau Sumatera. Seorang staff American Red Cross yang duduk di sampingku ternyata menjadi point informasi yang sangat berharga. Ah, Gusti Allah memang baik. Ruby, nama gadis itu, ternyata berteman dengan banyak orang baik yang kebetulan sama-sama bekerja di berbagai organisasi internasional di Aceh. Informasi tentang tempat kos sampai tempat nongkrong di Banda mengalir dengan ramah, sementara seorang bapak yang semula duduk di samping kanan kami pindah ke tempat duduk yang masih kosong di belakang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; Bapak berpostur besar ini kembali ke tempat duduknya sesaat sebelum pramugari mengumumkan bahwa kami akan tiba di Banda Aceh. Beliau sekilas menatap kami, lalu bertanya, “mbak-mbak ini dari mana?”&lt;br /&gt;(dengan suaraku yang besar karena flu yang ngga sembuh-sembuh) “dari Semarang, pak.”&lt;br /&gt;(dengan suara Ruby yang ramah) “dari Jakarta”&lt;br /&gt;“di Aceh kerja?”&lt;br /&gt;(serempak, aku dan Ruby) “iya pak”&lt;br /&gt;“di NGO?”&lt;br /&gt;(dengan agak sungkan, karena aku ngga suka mengekspos tempat kerjaku pada orang yang baru kukenal, apalagi aku belum mulai kerja…)&lt;br /&gt;“saya di UNDP, dan mbak Ruby ini di American Red Cross.”&lt;br /&gt;“oh” (wajah bapak itu berubah, tapi aku ngga bisa mendeskripsikan apa maksudnya)&lt;br /&gt;“kalau Bapak?” (dia mengulurkan tangannya yang besar)&lt;br /&gt;“Mirza Hussein, BRR”&lt;br /&gt;“oh” (sekarang wajah Ruby yang berubah)&lt;br /&gt;“sudah berapa lama di UNDP?” (ekspresi wajahnya masih sulit kudeskripsikan)&lt;br /&gt;“besok baru mulai pak…”&lt;br /&gt;“oh” (sekilas ada kesan memaklumi) “siapa yang ngajarin pakai jilbab?”&lt;br /&gt;(ini pertanyaan beliau yang paling sulit kulupakan) Aku langsung ngga pede deh. Kupikir jilbabku sudah berantakan. “belajar sendiri pak, begitu tahu mau tugas ke Aceh saya beli bukunya Ratih Sang, tapi ya begini hasilnya…susah pakai jilbab rapi…kenapa pak, berantakan ya?” (tanganku sibuk membenahi jilbabku)&lt;br /&gt;Pak Mirza tersenyum. “Nggak, bagus kok.” Tapi senyum beliau malah bikin aku tambah ngga pede. Perasaanku bilang, Bapak ini orang penting di BRR. Tapi sampai hari itu nama di BRR yang kukenal dari media-media nasional cuma Pak Kuntoro… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruby menepuk lenganku pelan. Setengah berbisik dia bilang, “Bapak ini juru bicara BRR…” A-ha, jadi begitu ya? Kesan pertamaku terhadap beliau adalah, wibawanya luar biasa. Kesan kedua, hum kayanya kami akan bertemu lagi nih…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jajaran pegunungan yang hijau kebiruan terbentang di bawah kami, saat pramugari mengumumkan bahwa sesaat lagi kami tiba di bandara Sultan Iskandar Muda di Blang Bintang. Padatnya perumahan tampak jelas, beberapa kompleks tampak seragam dengan warna dinding dan atap yang sama, terutama di wilayah sepanjang pantai yang diratakan Tsunami. Oiya, bandaranya Banda Aceh ini ternyata tidak terletak di dalam kota, tapi di wilayayah kabupaten Aceh Besar. Landasan pacunya yang lebar dan panjang menandakan kesibukan bandara ini menerima pesawat-pesawat berukuran besar. Kupikir bandara ini malah lebih siap menjadi bandara internasional bila dibandingkan dengan bandara Ahmad Yani di Semarang atau Adi Sucipto di Yogyakarta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Pendaratan berlangsung mulus. Seluruh hatiku mengucap syukur. Ada perasaan luar biasa di hatiku yang berkata, Gusti Allah telah begitu baik dengan mengirimkanku ke sini. Ada perasaan lain yang berkata, “Asri, segalanya dimulai di sini.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SMS dari teman sekantorku, Angel, menyambut begitu aku menghidupkan Samsung-ku. Sudah jam 12 siang. Mobil UNDP telah siap menjemput, dan seorang driver mengacungkan kertas bertuliskan namaku di luar sana. Aneh rasanya, dalam dua minggu telah tiga kali aku tiba di sebuah tempat dengan tiga driver yang berbeda menunggu sambil mengacungkan namaku dengan identitas berbeda-beda tertulis di bawahnya… Porter di bandara banyak sekali, namun semuanya santun, tak ada yang memaksa, apalagi menarik-narik tas penumpang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Tas 33 kilo yang telah menemaniku melintasi 4 negara dalam setahun terakhir ini sama sekali tak terasa berat. Lucu rasanya, setahun lalu, di jam dan tanggal yang sama aku berlari-lari di &lt;em&gt;Charles de Gaulle &lt;/em&gt;dengan tas yang sama, namun dengan empat lapis pakaian tebal yang membungkus tubuh mungilku, suhu minus satu derajat dan butir-butir salju yang melayang-layang di udara. Sementara hari ini, matahari memanaskan bumi Aceh sampai di titik 33 derajat, dan aku terbungkus rapat dalam baju muslimah…setahun lalu aku sedang jatuh cinta, dan hari ini aku sedang merasa sangat-sangat bahagia…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isna, Solidarity Group mate dan saudara sekontingenku saat SSEAYP 2003 memelukku erat-erat. Sudah lebih dari tiga tahun kami tak bertemu. Ah, Gusti Allah sungguh baik, mempertemukan kami kembali. Driver UNDP sangat santun. Mobil kami melintasi jalan-jalan yang sepintas tampak seperti jalan-jalan yang kulintasi dari pelabuhan Padang Bae sampai kota Mataram di Lombok. Yang beda dari kota-kota lain di Indonesia adalah pakaian para perempuan yang kulihat di sepanjang jalan: hampir semuanya berjilbab,dan papan-papan nama di depan gedung-gedung pemerintahan ditulis dalam huruf latin dan huruf hija’iyyah. Aku merasa damai di sini. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tigapuluh menit kemudian kami tiba di wilayah Geuceu, Banda Aceh. Papan-papan bertuliskan nama-nama organisasi internasional terpasang di sudut-sudut jalan. Habitat, Oxfam, European Union, UNDP… semua menandakan, sesuatu yang besar pernah dan sedang berlangsung di kota ini. Kantorku berpagar putih, dengan security guards yang juga santun dan ramah. Dua jam pertama di kantor kulewatkan dengan berusaha memeras otak untuk membuat strategi dan rencana kerja untuk menjalankan Early Warning System di NAD dan Nias. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdURo8guNHI/AAAAAAAAAE8/cYyvFCo68CQ/s1600-h/DSCN3164.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031947553792210034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdURo8guNHI/AAAAAAAAAE8/cYyvFCo68CQ/s320/DSCN3164.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Team DRR&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Rasanya agak kaget juga, mindset-ku belum siap untuk memproduksi apapun yang berhubungan dengan Disaster Risk Reduction Project. Otakku masih penuh berisi daftar pertanyaan assessment jalur-jalur komunikasi dan struktur pemerintahan di wilayah Blok Cepu. Yang ada di kepalaku masih wajah-wajah para wartawan, wajah Beau dan Lauren, pengurus desa dan kecamatan, serta lapangnya tanah-tanah hijau calon lokasi eksplorasi minya di Cepu dan Bojonegoro, juga calon jalur pipa yang penuh dengan hutan jati yang subur kearah Tuban. Kacau deh… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Untung Angel, teman kerjaku, dan Bang Novel begitu mengerti. Kami akhirnya banyak bicara dan mereka menyarankanku untuk beristirahat dan meneruskan pekerjaanku saat retreat di Sabang di hari berikutnya. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Jam empat sore Isna menjemputku. Sebelum mendapat tempat kos, aku numpang tinggal di rumahnya. Ramainya jalan-jalan di Banda Aceh telah cukup berkata bahwa seringkali kita yang berasal dari luar Banda disuguhi informasi tak berimbang, yang hanya menyoroti sebuah wilayah dari satu sisi saja. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdUQzsguNGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/3yGtD87qczA/s1600-h/lingke-ulee+kr+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031946638964175970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdUQzsguNGI/AAAAAAAAAE0/3yGtD87qczA/s320/lingke-ulee+kr+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Peunayong, Chinatown-nya Banda Aceh&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Banda Aceh ramai sekali. Warung-warung kopi mulai menata kursi-kursi plastik berwarna-warni di sore hari. Gerobak-gerobak penjualan makanan, mulai dari yang bertuliskan mie udang sampai sate jawa tampak juga mempersiapkan diri menyambut malam. Jaringan waralaba internasional, KFC dan A&amp;W juga ada, berbaur mewarnai sisi-sisi Banda Aceh yang juga menawarkan Pizza dari Pizza House atau Papa Ron, sampai resto masakan Cina, Kapau masakan Padang, makanan Turki, sampai waralaba lokal Wong Solo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Jaringan supermarket lokal Pante Pirak juga tampak ramai, sementara mobil-mobil impor berukuran besar dengan gambar logo berbagai organisasi internasional juga berlalu-lalang di jalan. Rumah Isna terletak di kecamatan Syiah Kuala, desa Jeulingke. Kami melintasi masjid raya Baiturrahman yang legendaris dan Krueng Aceh yang terekam dalam kamera dengan timbunan sampah dan orang-orang yang hanyut saat tsunami 2004. Semua sekarang telah bersih dan rapi. Bahkan, menurutku, Krueng Aceh adalah sungai besar di kawasan perkotaan terbersih yang pernah kulihat di Indonesia. Beberapa gedung besar seperti gedung PLN masih terbengkalai dengan sisa-sisa gempa dan tsunami yang tak dibersihkan. Kata Isna, saat tsunami air sempat mencapai ketinggian lampu-lampu jalanan, atau lebih dari tiga meter… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdUMmMguNFI/AAAAAAAAAEs/D9lEV3TVkYQ/s1600-h/lingke-ulee+kr+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5031942008989430866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdUMmMguNFI/AAAAAAAAAEs/D9lEV3TVkYQ/s320/lingke-ulee+kr+022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Isna dan aku&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kamar Isna besar sekali. Yang paling aku suka dari rumah bercat kuning ini adalah keramahan keluarga Isna, dan dinginnya udara di dalamnya, meski di luar matahari bersinar terik. Hari pertama di Banda… hm, rasanya aku suka… &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-2963248887216355750?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2963248887216355750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=2963248887216355750' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/2963248887216355750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/2963248887216355750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2007/02/saleum-dari-aceh.html' title='Saleum dari Aceh'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RdUWmsguNLI/AAAAAAAAAFc/V6UrHUD3A4Q/s72-c/DSCN3209.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-6106175017891787731</id><published>2007-01-08T12:54:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-01-08T13:35:37.843+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kok Percaya?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Menyambung tulisanku tentang Adam Air...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Seperti biasa, saat menulis dalam bahasa Indonesia, itu berarti, dengan berat hati aku sedang bercerita tentang satu lagi hal memalukan dari negeri ini. :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sudah hampir seminggu Adam Air hilang, dan aku sempat dengan leganya menulis bahwa Adam Air sudah ditemukan. Untung saja di &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/adam-oh-adam.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Adam oh Adam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; aku menulis dari mana aku mendapat informasi itu...jadi semoga aku tidak terlibat dalam kebohongan paling memalukan di awal tahun ini. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hari itu ribuan orang jadi saksi pernyataan-pernyataan PeDe para pejabat, yang menyatakan Adam sudah ditemukan. Mulai dari yang bilang kalau kondisi pesawat mengenaskan, sampai yang menyatakan bahwa ada 90 korban meninggal dan 15 lainnya hilang, bahkan sampai ada cerita bahwa jenazah para korban masih bisa dikenali.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Siaran radio pada hari itu seharusnya jadi salah satu siaran radio yang sulit dilupakan oleh banyak orang, siaran yang melegakan banyaknya hati yang jadi lega mendengar kabar terbaik dari sebuah kabar buruk... Semua orang yang mencintai pasti lebih memilih melihat jenazah orang yang dicintainya, daripada merasa kehilangan dan terus bermimpi dia belum benar-benar pergi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sayangnya, berita-berita hari itu jutru jadi dikenang sebagai kebohongan terburuk di awal 2007. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Semua telah menunggu kedatangan tim evakuasi membawa kabar dan jenazah para korban. Semua telah pasrah, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"sudahlah kalau dia meninggal, yang penting kita bisa melihatnya, lalu memakamkannya dengan layak...&lt;/span&gt; "&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Semua berharap, 15 orang yang terkatakan hilang (namun diperkirakan masih hidup) itu adalah orang-orang terkasihnya...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Seperti yang dibilang para pejabat Republik BBM semalam, kayanya memang betul deh, piala-piala Citra yang dikembalikan itu diberikan saja pada para pejabat PeDe yang pintar mengarang skenario dan berakting, buat menghargai bakat-bakat mereka, sekaligus memotivasi mereka untuk beralih profesi di jalur yang seharusnya. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kalau perlu, bikin saja lembaga yang menganugerahkan piala Citra tandingan: &lt;em&gt;Piala Citra Buruk&lt;/em&gt;. Hum, pasti para juri bingung menentukan pemenang...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Drama hari itu, dengan 4 ibu jariku terangkat, kuakui sebagai skenario dan akting paling meyakinkan yang pernah kuketahui. Efeknya pun sesempurna pakem cerita drama klasik: &lt;em&gt;bitter sweet sensations&lt;/em&gt;, sensasi pahit, tapi membuat para penonton aksi itu bersyukur, bahwa mereka bukan tokoh-tokoh dalam lakon itu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kalau sampai hari ini masih ada orang yang bertanya, "kok bisa sih, percaya?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Aku cuma punya satu jawaban: Hari itu, aku masih di tingkat kepercayaan yang tinggi pada para pejabat yang berwenang dalam proses pecarian Adam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hari ini, pastilah komentar skeptis yang terlontar duluan bila aku mendengar berita yang sama.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ah, rupanya para sesepuh itu perlu diingatkan lagi pada pepatah tua: "Sekali lancung ke ujian, seumur hidup...." (teruskan sendiri, ya :p)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nah, kalau sudah seumur hidup orang ngga percaya, apa ya mereka masih layak menjabat lama-lama?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sepertinya mereka harus ikut Opspek Sastra Undip angkatan 1997. Setidaknya di sana orang-orang belajar,&lt;strong&gt; "katakan kebenaran meskipun pahit"!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-6106175017891787731?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6106175017891787731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=6106175017891787731' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/6106175017891787731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/6106175017891787731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/kok-percaya.html' title='Kok Percaya?'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-48635478549800466</id><published>2007-01-02T22:02:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T23:28:27.164+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adam, oh Adam...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Cherie, I read in the website of flight safety that Adam Air from Sby-Manado lost. Do you have more info about it?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://amourestcinta.blogspot.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Cintaku&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; sent the message yesterday, 21:00 western Indonesian time. I was surprised, as I didn't watch any news a whole day. Soon I turned on my radio and picked Elshinta's channel. That's the news radio that's always be able to broadcast the latest update of any news in Indonesia. And it was true, Adam Air updates were on the air. I was sure that something horrible must have happened to that B737-400 and all news today justified the thoughts. It crashed in West Sulawesi, until now it is informed that 90 passengers died and 12 are still missing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Then I remember my 3 horrible experiences of flying with Adam. When I first chose to fly with Adam I was attracted by the company's fresh image that I learned in the media. I first flew with Adam last June from Denpasar to Yogya. My first impression about it? Perfect. It was punctual, the flight attendants were friendly, and they performed professionally in their World Cup wardrobes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;It satisfied me a lot, compared to my previous experiences with Batavia and Sriwijaya, and it's cheaper than Garuda. At that time I was still afraid to take Lion and Mandala after their horrible accidents in the previous years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;However, my flight back with Adam from Yogya to Denpasar was cancelled. Due to the CSO, it was because of the insufficient condition of Yogya airport after May 2006's earthquake. I could understand that fully, and since I needed to be in Denpasar soon, I came back by GA, which was 3x more expensive than my flight with Adam. Adam's CSO said that they would reimburse Yogya-DPS ticket 30 days after the cancellation date. But I was disappointed. I received it 50 days later, after 3x calls to Adam air's office...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;However, I didn't take it seriously. Just 2 weeks after my cancelled flight I took Adam again, from Semarang to Jakarta. Cintaku was shocked to see that Adam used the old B737-200...the kind of aircraft that has been omitted from qualified flight operators. For the first time in my life, I saw him praying during the take off!:))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The flight was delayed. A chaos took place since many passenger brought too many things in the cabin and even some refused to put them in the overhead cabinet (in my observation it's a typical Indonesian passengers' dangerous habit, beside turning on the mobile phone during landing). The image of overload take off weight haunted us on the way...but we landed safely anyway, with 45 minutes delay. Pretty good for Indonesian standard :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;2 days later I flew back to Semarang. Until that day I was always be so confident of doing the &lt;em&gt;go show&lt;/em&gt;, buying the ticket directly at the airport just some hours before the departure. &lt;em&gt;Cintaku &lt;/em&gt;has insisted me to take GA, but I ran out of the ticket, and I could only get Adam when I went to a travel agency at Eastern Jakarta. I paid the ticket exactly at 11:30, or 1,5 hour prior to time limit of the day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Cintaku was so worried to know that I flew with Adam again, as he concerns so much on flight safety. But, what happened later was nothing about safety. I was rejected at the check in counter in Sukarno-Hatta airport! The check in officer said that my name was not listed! Oh gosh, I was trying to be nicely explaining the chronology of my ticket purchase, but she insisted, pretty rudely, that I was about to be included in the waiting list!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I exploded. I had all prove that I have paid before the limit, I had the ticket with OK status, I checked in 2 hours before departure, but I couldn't fly? Give me a break...So, I became a hell-demanding customer and told her to report to her supervisor or I would did it myself. She went, and in the next 5 minutes she was back, in much more (fake) polite expression, apologizing and letting me check in...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;After that experience, I became a more discipline passenger. I omitted the go show habit from my travelling list, even I loved the sensation...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Stupidly enough, I took Adam again in September, just because I needed the time line, I would be able to finish all my activities in Jakarta without rush in the afternoon and arrived in Semarang in the evening, in the same day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;BUT, just a day before my return to Semarang, I got a call from the CSO again, saying that my flight was cancelled, and I was offered to be replaced to the flight in the afternoon, or moved to the flight in the next day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I still had to fix some business in Central Jakarta in the afternoon on that date, so it was impossible to take the afternoon flight. I had no option but taking the flight in the next morning. I didn't want to wait for another 50 days term for the reimbursement, and I didn't have time to book other flight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So I remembered the previous cases with Adam. Politely I said to the CSO that when they cancel the flight they shoud consider the other loss that has to be born by the customer. For instance, changing the flight = paying more, or spending one more night in Jakarta = 1 more night accomodation cost. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But you know how she answered? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"But ma'am, don't you have any relatives in Jakarta?You wouldn't lose anything if you stay with them.."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Oh gosh, what do you think about it, pals? Was it a professional answer?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So, I ended my conversation by ensuring that I didn't have to pay any additional cost for my next morning flight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I fed up with Adam that day. But seems that it was not enough, in the next morning, when I checked in in (again), Sukarno Hatta airport, the officer let me down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I was so careful that even I confirmed to the counter supervisor about the change in my ticket. She said it was ok, so I came into the check in. The officer looked at my ticket, and said,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"But it's the ticket for yesterday, Ma'am..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Yes, and the flight was cancelled, wasn't it?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"You should've taken yesterday afternoon's flight"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"I had not finished business in the afternoon"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Allright, but for the flight this morning we only have higher class. You must upgrade your ticket. Rp. 85.000 more, please..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;OLALA. I was really-really exploded. I couldn't understand how the system was, after putting 1 more night accommodation fee to me, after the CSO and supervisor said OK, she asked for more? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Of course I said no way. And again, with my irritated expression I told the check in counter to see the supervisor. And again, with that fake polite smile she said sorry. Brrrr....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I thank God that I could be an assertive person when it is necessary, and I have been travelling a lot to know what is wrong or right. How if I was such a quite discourageous inexperienced passenger who couldn't defend the right? I would have became the victim, I am sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Thus, September was my lat time using Adam's service. In October when I bought a Mandala and Lion tickets for my next trip in a travel agency, I met 2 customers who talked about their bad experiences with Adam. I was not alone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So I was not surprised that a Tourist Association in a Kalimantan Province planned to boycott Adam due to the bad service to the customer. But I was shocked and couldn't understand when Adam was awarded as the Low Cost Airline of The Year 2 months ago in Singapore. What a joke, or were other Indonesian airline services too bad that Adam could win such award?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I feel sorry for Adam's accident in Sulawesi. Hopefully, after this Adam would learn and have the overall look towards the service to the customers. It takes time to gain back the trust, but it's never too late.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Believe or not, after trying the improved services from Mandala and Lion Air last October, now I don't mind to fly again with them. I could feel that they improve their services to the customers, like Lion that provided fresh drink in waiting room and Incocation Card in the cabin, and Mandala's flight attendants who became more smily than when I travelled with them 3 years ago. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But you know what, to my last choice, &lt;em&gt;Cintaku &lt;/em&gt;still say "NO!", and this morning (again) he gave me a list of the safest Indonesian airlines, along with the reasons. He's worried about my insecure flying habit* and never give up to change my mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ah, It's so good to be loved... :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Not So) &lt;strong&gt;IMPORTANT NOTES:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*my insecure flying habit:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;chosing the flight with the considerations of having cheap ticket and friendliness of flight attendants. I always say, at least with that I would die smiling (and &lt;em&gt;Cintaku &lt;/em&gt;hates this statement) :))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;*Cintaku's secure flying habit:&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;chosing the flights with the considerations of the type of the aircraft, the engine and construction quality, age, operator history, maintenance, safety track record. I always say, it's too complicated to remember all those data...(and Cintaku will just say, "Grrrr...")&lt;/span&gt; :))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-48635478549800466?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/48635478549800466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=48635478549800466' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/48635478549800466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/48635478549800466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/adam-oh-adam.html' title='Adam, oh Adam...'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-9211056896308677103</id><published>2006-12-15T16:02:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T17:18:55.353+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time and Chance</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RYJnUTd7pdI/AAAAAAAAAAU/XdAmAtCqee0/s1600-h/pys03-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5008679334110275026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RYJnUTd7pdI/AAAAAAAAAAU/XdAmAtCqee0/s400/pys03-2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Time and chance, happened to them all..." &lt;/em&gt;(Color Me Badd-Time and Chance the Album)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;See the picture above, I was with my beloved friends from SSEAYP. Time and chance, I think we are the ones who are gifted by beautiful things in life. &lt;em&gt;Alhamdulillaah..&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Time and chance. By the end of the year, my thoughts are so much on them. Did I pass this year well? Am I happy? Will I be happier next year? Will I get thru more breathaking moments? Will I still be in love? Will I still be loved? Will I be given the chances?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;*sigh*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sometimes I feel ashamed towards my beloved God. He has given me so much, maybe too much for not-so-good me... Chances, chances, chances, million chances, and millions of seconds to breath in happiness. Like this week, like today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;This year I spent so much happy times for my personal life. I left all the hectic days at work and lived my life as a traveler, a gardener, a cook, a baby sitter for my cute nephew, and above all, a good student who tries to finish her thesis :p. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But many people asked where I have been. Feeling sorry that I left bright careers, while I felt happy. I felt agitated to have people's reactions when they know that I spent most of my time home and away, until I would like to get back the comfort of starting a career.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Somehow my mum is like a fortune teller. Follow what she says and everything will be ok. Once, 3 weeks ago, she told me, "get your graduation cerificate soon, and soon the jobs will come to you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I was in lazy moments to go to my campus to take care of administration stuffs, but I then remembered that I had 3 times postphoning my graduation. So, I moved fast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Just when I met one of my thesis examiners, he offered me to teach my juniors in my faculty. "How if some times in the future you help us to teach public speaking and MC techniques?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Chance. A very good chance. So I said yes and gave him my business card.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Then yesterday. I went to a language school to have a TOEFL test. I just want to possess TOEFL score to support my CV. I finished 10 minutes before the time was up. Then, a woman corrected my answer sheet and came up with a question:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Where do you study?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"English Department"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Look, you got very good score, and we still need a part time teacher. If you would, please join us and drop your CV tomorrow."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I was stunned. My TOEFL scored 603. Another good chance. I came back with BIG smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Then I went to my campus to get my temporary graduation certificate. I felt so relieved that finally I finished my study.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Then at home I got a call from the production house where I work part time. "We got new tape. Can you come for VO recording tomorrow?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I thought it was the repetation of the offer. 3 days ago I started go get an offer to be the narrator for TV ads.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I was talking to my mum about that offer at home when my phone rang. It was a call from Aceh. A call from my dream working place, an international organization. I was asked to have interview for the next day. I was stunned. And told my mum. "Gosh, you're really a fortune teller!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;So, this morning I sat by my phone. I was all nervous. I was so excited to have chance to be interviewed for my dream job, where if I will be accepted, I will serve community development projects in Aceh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Another chance, a very good chance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;But was surprised to find that there were 3 interviewers. I thought I would just get typical HR questions, but apparently this long distance interview was efficiently used as the general interview to find out my knowledges on project management, disaster risk reduction and sustainability of the projects.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Indeed, I was not ready. I should've read back my management books. I regretted some of my incomplete answers. "I should've mentioned the preliminary actions to prevent the risk..ah, I forgot to mention about urban planning, building construstions... I forgot this..that..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Time and chance. I believe that God is planning something beautiful for me, no matter if I can or &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;cannot take that job...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Then I went to post office to post another application, for the post of International Program Staff in a well-recognized uni in Yogya. I dropped shortly at a fish market to relax, seeig beautiful fish and bought some more Kois, japanese gold fish. I felt thankful that I could still see those pretty fish swam in a little glass aquarium next to my mum's sanseveira pot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Noon. I rushed to have my lunch then drove to my PH. It took 45 minutes as usual, and I after finishing my VO part, I was asked to record my voice for the bumper in. I remembered how I cried whenever I watch the reality show where I involve. I feel thankful to be part of that program, releasing nice people from debts, seeing happy people, giving them chances, moving the hearts of others to help... Even I would prefer to be the presenter, I still love my tiny participation in that program. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;After recording session, I found that I got 25% higher salary. Wow. :) It was a bonus for contributing my voice for the bumper in. (&lt;em&gt;makasih mas Chris! &lt;/em&gt;:p)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Another producer was waiting in theater room. He offered me to be the presenter of an educative national TV game show that will be produced soon, so I was casted shortly with 4 judges in. Only 25 minutes, lots of fun and laugh. Ah, another time, and a very good chance...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;At 15:00 I sat in front of this computer to wait for the written test exam from that international orgaization. In my mind I imagine that one day I will write my post graduate thesis on "Communicating the Disaster"... then work more for the people in my country, in the world, wherever I will be needed...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I thought so much all the way. I am a very fortunate person. I have so many choices of life, and Godbless me. I am ashamed to remember when I cried and upset because of such little sadness and disappointments while He always gives me more happiness. More times, more chances...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I haven't decided yet where I would be, I don't even know whether I will be chosen, but I feel so fortunate to have given all those opportunities to chose. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I wish wathever it is, I will have a chance to share my happiness and luck with others who are unhappy and unfortunate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Alhamdulillaahirabbil Alamiin...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Merciful, lovingful Allah, thank you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hope the happiness are yours too, my friends...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-9211056896308677103?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/9211056896308677103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=9211056896308677103' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/9211056896308677103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/9211056896308677103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/12/time-and-chance.html' title='Time and Chance'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/RYJnUTd7pdI/AAAAAAAAAAU/XdAmAtCqee0/s72-c/pys03-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-262957405419716654</id><published>2006-11-26T20:56:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T07:05:00.883+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life for Sell</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I love gardening during my weekend. Yesterday I moved the water lilies into a new clay basin, and I needed some fish in the water to prevent the mosquitos from breeding there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I went to an aquarium shop. Asking for "nila" fish, a kind of mini carpfish that likes to eat larvae. I asked the seller, how much should I pay for them.&lt;br /&gt;"U can get 3 fish for Rp. 1000"&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised. That cheap? For your information, US $ 1 is equal to Rp. 9300.&lt;br /&gt;So with $ 1, you can get 27 fish? :-o&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why, suddenly I was thinking of a funny idea: how would I feel if my life was for sell, and I only worth for Rp. 333,33 ? (it's not even a cent in US dollar rate!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will I feel insulted?&lt;br /&gt;Will I be sad?&lt;br /&gt;Will I be happy because it means that I can go in group with my buddies, as people would tend to buy us as a whole package?&lt;br /&gt;Hum, what would my fish think?&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;blup-blup-blupppp....(*bubles in the water*, are they answering?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-262957405419716654?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/262957405419716654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=262957405419716654' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/262957405419716654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/262957405419716654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/11/life-for-sell.html' title='Life for Sell'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-116333934471541658</id><published>2006-11-12T20:40:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-11-18T12:24:21.588+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Warna-Warni Asia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/aya-bendera.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/aya-bendera.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Banyak yang bertanya, kemana aja sih aku minggu-minggu lalu?&lt;br /&gt;Jawabannya adalah, sepulang dari Jepang, melewati Idul Fitri, aku kembali lagi ke Jakarta, menyambut Nippon Maru, kapal yang membawa "budak-budak belia" :) dari Program Kapal Pemuda Asia Tenggara dan Jepang 2006, dalam bahasa Inggris, sebut saja sebagai &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ship for South East Asian Youth Program&lt;/span&gt;, atau SSEAYP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SSEAYP dan orang-orang yang kutemui di dalamnya mengajariku banyak hal, mulai dari melatih toleransi, membuka diri, sampai memberiku kesempatan mencoba kemampuan di tempat-tempat yang tak pernah terbayangkan sebelumnya. Di Semarang aku sudah belajar jadi MC buat acara bersama gubernur. Tapi di Jakarta, minggu lalu, buat pertama kalinya aku bertugas sebagai MC di istana Wakil Presiden, bersama seniorku, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Teh&lt;/span&gt; Sita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hum, acaranyanya sih singkat, tapi sensasi saat berhasil mengalahkan "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;butterfly feeling&lt;/span&gt;" di perut kami terasa benar-benar seru! :) Terimakasih protokoler istana, yang telah dengan sangat baik menerima dan membimbing kami... (ngga seperti kata Ungu Band, protokoler istana ngga arogan sama sekali kok... salah mereka sendiri, ke istana kok pakai jeans...huh!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngga ada program pertukaran pemuda yang pernah kuikuti, yang bisa mengalahkan serunya sensasi ikut program itu... Kupikir aku benar-benar jatuh cinta pada Si Cantik Nippon Maru, kabin-kabin mungilnya, bendera-bendera yang berkibaran di dalamnya, atau di pelabuhan-pelabuhan yang menyambutnya, dan terutama, selain sempurnanya pemandangan &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sunset&lt;/span&gt; dan &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sunrise&lt;/span&gt; di laut lepas, hidupnya suasana saat anak-anak muda dari 11 negara berbaur, saling mengajarkan sebagian kebudayaan mereka, mengajukan pertanyaan, dan membahas hal-hal yang tak terjawab saat kita membaca surat kabar atau buku manapun...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hari selanjutnya kulewatkan bersama seniorku, Mas Amung dan 33 anak muda enerjik di SG-F, dengan Youth Leader Martin dari Filipina. Hauuu... serunya saat sepanjang perjalanan dari Tanjung Priok sampai mabes-nya Sariayu, perwakilan dari 11 negara Asia itu tampil di dlam bis...:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Setelah itu, cerita perjalanan karir ibu Martha Tilaar benar-benar membuatku terjaga dan terinspirasi. Memulai karir di bidang kecantikan sebagai beautician keliling, sekarang beliau punya 4 anak perusahaan, lebih dari 4000 karyawan..."tekuni hobi kalian, lakukan segalanya dengan sungguh-sungguh..." dari itulah semua bermula. Terimakasih, ibu, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I was invisible in that room for you, but I will always keep in my mind the inspiration, and one day I'll talk to you  about  how much you have inspired me....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Belajar tentang falsafah dan bisnis kecantikan dari Sariayu semakin membuatku mencintai warna-warni Asia. Suatu hari nanti, aku berharap mampu membuat  semakin banyak orang  mengenalnya, dari sisi  lain yang aku mampu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malamnya, kembali warna-warni Asia memanjakan mata dan telingaku. Meski kakiku sakit gara-gara berdiri seharian dengan sepatu berhak tinggi berujung lancip, di sisi kanan panggung aku menikmati tarian, nyanyian dan cheers dari lebih 300 pemuda Asia... :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dua hari kemudian, saat peluit kapal berbunyi dan pita-pita perpisahan dilontarkan, aku duduk dan menangis terharu di tepian dermaga... Nippon Maru telah menjauh, dan segera akan berlabuh di Port Klang Malaysia, Bandar Seri Begawan Brunai, Manila Harbor di Filipina, dan akhirnya bersandar di Yokohama...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuma orang yang pernah ikut program ini yang bisa memahami yang aku rasakan, warna-warni Asia yang membuatku ingat, bahwa aku harus menjadi lebih baik lagi...lebih baik lagi...lebih baik lagi....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-116333934471541658?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116333934471541658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=116333934471541658' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/116333934471541658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/116333934471541658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/11/warna-warni-asia.html' title='Warna-Warni Asia'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-116201433376040500</id><published>2006-10-28T12:14:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T12:45:33.780+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreaming...</title><content type='html'>Have you ever said to yourself, "I've never thought that I could...."?&lt;br /&gt;Almost everyday in my life, now I say that to myself. I feel blessed. I feel thankful. My childhood dreams come true, and I'm waiting for th other dreams to come true too...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/dreamlight2.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/dreamlight2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;the mugs that fit my life motivation. I found them in the production house where I record my voice for a reality show :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today you might hope for something that looks impossible, but I learned that when we keep the hopes and dreams, let them crystalized in my mind,  the crystal will reflect all the lights around me to shine on my way, guiding me to my destination...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-116201433376040500?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116201433376040500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=116201433376040500' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/116201433376040500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/116201433376040500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/10/dreaming.html' title='Dreaming...'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-116187415331557386</id><published>2006-10-26T21:48:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-10-28T12:58:19.483+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Idul Fitri...</title><content type='html'>Idul Fitri or Lebaran are the popular terms in Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian Language) that refer to Eid El Fitri. We celebrate this glorious day after we accomplish the (hard) duties of dealing with our passions during Ramadan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eid el Fitri is the biggest religious event in Indonesia, the country with more than 80% moslem population. Different tribes in Indonesia that spread in more than 17,000 islands of the archipelago celebrated this special day in various cultural events, and here I share a little story of the Eid El Fitri in my hometown, Semarang, Central Java.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eid is the moment when families are reunited, when people comes back to their hometown, thus the roads in the big cities are empty, and villages become alive with the people who returns..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early in the morning, as the praises to Allah, our beloved God filled the air, the moslems walked to the mosques or open spaces to have the Eid prayer. That is the view I always miss, when thousands of people bow, pray, in sincere devotion... the prayer then continued with the Eid message, mostly the message of peace, forgiveness and brotherhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/ma-in5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/ma-in5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;listening to the Eid message in a part of women section in Central Java Grand Mosque...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, we come back home. The traditional food await us on the table. &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Ketupat&lt;/span&gt;, the rice that is wrapped in coconut leave shells then cooked for 3 hours, &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;opor ayam&lt;/span&gt; or a kind of chicken curry and sambal goreng, a dish made of potato, meat and a lot of CHILI :p, and &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;kerupuk udang&lt;/span&gt; or potato chips are the dishes that you can find in almost every home in Semarang on that day. If you asked me about the taste, I only have a word about it: "YUMMY"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="FONT-STYLE: italic" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/ktpt3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/ktpt3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;clockwise: kerupuk udang, opor ayam, sambal goreng, ketupat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Eid I prayed in a new beautiful place in Semarang: &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Masjid Agung Jawa Tengah, &lt;/span&gt;or Central Java Grand Mosque. Below is a shot I took from the third floor, the beautiful architecture and the prayers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/ma2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/ma2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;a corner of Central Java Grand Mosque, after the Eid prayer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eid is the time for establishing better relations with others. It's the time when you meet people that you don't usually meet, time to admit the mistakes, and ask for forgiveness. In Java we call it &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;silaturahmi&lt;/span&gt;, and &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;silaturahmi &lt;/span&gt;is identical to "sungkeman" tradition, where "sungkem" is a type of very respectful hand-shaking with the people that we respect, to ask for the good wishes, forgiveness and to show our respect to them. &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Silaturahmi&lt;/span&gt; is everywhere in town, when neighbours visit the neighbors, or when the important people in government, including our president, offer the open house and welcome their people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let myself drawn in the crowd of journalists after my prayer, to get the pictures of the Governor of Central Java, in the queue where thousands of people were waiting for their turn to greet our Governor and do a little &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;silaturahmi&lt;/span&gt;. I was lucky to spot a man doing &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;"sungkeman"&lt;/span&gt; to the governor with all his respects...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/gub3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/gub3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;sungkeman to Governor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are still many facets of the Eid that I haven't covered in this simple story. For me there are just so many beutiful things about this glorious happy day, the free feeling of forgiveness, brotherhood and friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that feeling, and I think, that is why I always miss Eid El Fitri... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-116187415331557386?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116187415331557386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=116187415331557386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/116187415331557386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/116187415331557386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/10/idul-fitri.html' title='Idul Fitri...'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-116169655855863011</id><published>2006-10-24T20:11:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T20:29:18.623+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eid Mubarak!</title><content type='html'>Grab  the veils, this morning I was ready for the Eid prayer. Felt a blue feeling... this year's Ramadan was  not easy for me, world is just too full of sweet temptations...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet this morning my heart was moved to see the crowds heading to the grand mosque of Central Java.  More than 50,000 muslims, in all colors  devoted their morning to  have the Eid prayer there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/ma1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/ma1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;crowds in Grand Mosque this morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morning was beautiful with tender sunshine. Clear sky. I wish I would be given the chance to clear up my life from cries, hatred, jealousy... Fill my life with love and tenderness. Live beautifully and peacefully as the bright sky in my hometown this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/me-ma93.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/me-ma93.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;Me, at the atrium of the Grand Mosque&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eid Mubarak, my beautiful universe... my brothers and sisters, my families... Selamat Idul Fitri... :) May forgiveness be the light to our heart...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-116169655855863011?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116169655855863011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=116169655855863011' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/116169655855863011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/116169655855863011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/10/eid-mubarak.html' title='Eid Mubarak!'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-116143868581594570</id><published>2006-10-21T19:51:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-10-21T21:24:05.460+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ada Saatnya, Hidupku Berwarna...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Hi, I'm back!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;12 hari memang pendek, tapi hari-hari di Jepang kemarin adalah hari terindah yang pernah kulewatkan di sana. Mungkin karena aku sudah semakin dewasa, mungkin juga karena di sana aku bertemu teman-teman yang luar biasa, bicara dalam satu "bahasa", punya minat dan isi kepala yang serupa... Kami sangat serius saat berdiskusi atau menyiapkan presentasi tentang kegiatan-kegiatan sosial yang mungkin kami laksanakan setelah pulang, tapi juga kami menikmati hidup dan persahabatan. &lt;em&gt;What a wonderful moment!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Tahun ini aku benar-benar bisa memanfaatkan waktu yang kupunya, diantara padatnya jadwal meeting, diskusi atau drafting, ternyata bisa juga aku menyelinap malam-malam buat menjelajah sisi lain dari Tokyo, Gifu dan Nagano. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Jepang, seperti yang telah banyak diceritakan, adalah melting pot kehidupan ultra modern dan penghargaan terhadap keselarasan alam dan kebudayaan. Di sudut-sudut kota megapolitan lampu-lampu neon di billboard ngga pernah berhenti menyala, seiring sesaknya trotoar oleh para fashionistas yang menikmati malam selepas sibuknya hari-hari kerja mereka. Aku selalu baru sempat keluar dari National Youth Center atau ANA Hotel Tokyo setelah jam sebelas malam, berlarian di subway, mengejar kereta yang berakhir jam operasionalnya jam 12 malam, untuk sekedar menikmati malam di Shinjuku... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/me%20shinjuku.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/me%20shinjuku.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; Shinjuku!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/adriene%20asri%20vien.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/adriene%20asri%20vien.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Adriene (Malaysia), Asri (Indonesia dong..), Vien (Laos).. hum, ini jalan apa ya? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;yang jelas ini tempat shopping anak-anak muda, jauh lebih murah dari Shinjuku, 4 stasiun dari Sangubashi gitu deh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Di sana juga aku bertemu dengan teman-temanku, berjalan-jalan di tempat yang pernah kami kunjungi beberapa tahun yang lalu, dan mengenang tahun-tahun yang terlewat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/tokyo%20tower2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/tokyo%20tower2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Ate (Laos), asri (Indonesia), Sue (Japan).. Tokyo Tower by 11 p.m.!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Di hari-hari yang lain, setelah gemerlapnya Tokyo, kami juga diajak ke akar budaya Jepang. Di bawah ini adalah rumah kuno di desa Shirakawa, Gifu Prefecture, sebuah desa kuno dengan rumah-rumah Wada dan Gassho yang berusia lebih dari 400 tahun. Desa ini dijadikan sebagai salah satu World Heritage oleh UNESCO, dan benar-benar dilindungi kelestariannya oleh masyarakat Jepang... Sebetulnya Indonesia juga punya banyak situs budaya seperti ini kan? lihat saja, pemukiman suku Baduy, atau Rumah Tradisional suku Sasak...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/me%20shirakawa.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/me%20shirakawa.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; Asri dan Wada House, Shirakawa, Gifu.. Aku baru 27 tahun, dan rumah ini 450 tahun! hauuu... :))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Di hari yang lain, 30 menit sebelum pertemuan dengan local NPO yang dikelola oleh para manula di Takayama, Gifu, kami "menghilang" di sela ramainya arak-arakan pawai festival musim gugur...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/me%20takayama%20fest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/me%20takayama%20fest.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Lost in Translation? :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Di sepanjang jalan masih terlihat kuil-kuil yang dipenuhi sesaji, ucapan terimakasih para petani kepada Dewa Bumi dan dewa panen yang melimpahkan hasil panenan mereka...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/me%20gifu1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/me%20gifu1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; Kuil Panen mungil di Takayama, Gifu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Di hari yang lain, kami belajar tentang &lt;em&gt;"Wisdom of Nature&lt;/em&gt;", Kebijakan Alam, di sebuah hutan yang dikelola oleh NPO setempat, yang menyebutnya sebagai Healing Forest, atau Hutan yang menyembuhkan segala penyakit... Sedikit cerita, kami mendapat penjelasan mengapa saat berada di dalam hutan tubuh kita terasa segar. Ternyata ini karena jutaan tahun yang lalu nenek moyang kita hidup di hutan-hutan yang masih berudara murni, dan rantai-rantai DNA manusia merekam memori menyenangkan itu, mewariskannya kepada kita, menumbuhkan rasa keterikatan pada alam, sampai saat ini...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/me%20hf.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/me%20hf.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Di Healing Forest, Nagano&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Melting pot yang sesungguhnya, yang menyatukanku dengan berbagai bangsa adalah tempat menginap favoritku: National Youth Center, alias Tokyo Memorial Olympic, penginapan buat atlet dan para pemuda, yang terbagi dalam berbagai blok, berisi kamar-kamar mungil, common rooms, public bathroom, kafetaria dan kafe dengan atmosfer yang bersahabat, dan puluhan ruang pertemuan dimana kami berdiskusi, atau merayakan pesta-pesta kecil...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/me%20nyc2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/me%20nyc2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;NYC Tokyo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/rambadia1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/rambadia1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Di Reception Hall, Renaissance Cafe dan Rambadia Performance... NYC, &lt;em&gt;the real melting pot&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Ada saatnya, hidupku berwarna, dan 12 hari kemarin adalah salah satu sequence paling berwarna buatku...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-116143868581594570?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116143868581594570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=116143868581594570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/116143868581594570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/116143868581594570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/10/ada-saatnya-hidupku-berwarna.html' title='Ada Saatnya, Hidupku Berwarna...'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-116002322708689076</id><published>2006-10-05T11:20:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T11:40:27.266+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ohayou Gozaimasu Tokyo!</title><content type='html'>Business Center, ANA Hotel Tokyo. (Internetnya mahal banget, 500 yen per 15 minutes! haouuu...)&lt;br /&gt;Ohayou Gozaimasu, Tokyo!!!&lt;br /&gt;Alhamdulillah, sudah sampai di Tokyo dengan selamat. :)&lt;br /&gt;Today Tokyo is very warm, amazingly, while I anticipated myself for the chilling air. Autumn is supposed to be colorful, but today all leaves are still green :)&lt;br /&gt;Ngga ada acara berarti hari ini selain kenalan dan jalan-jalan...sebelum mulai ketemu jadwal padat buat besok...&lt;br /&gt;Blogger lagi ga bisa upload foto..haou..yawdah, menyusul yaa..:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-116002322708689076?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116002322708689076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=116002322708689076' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/116002322708689076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/116002322708689076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/10/ohayou-gozaimasu-tokyo.html' title='Ohayou Gozaimasu Tokyo!'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115978290044091264</id><published>2006-10-02T16:26:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-10-02T16:55:00.533+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Big in Japan</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/nm-sunset.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/nm-sunset.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tiga tahun yang lalu aku berdiri di tempat ini,  foto sundeck kapal Nippon Maru, lantai 8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tahun ini, aku ngga perlu mabuk laut lagi... hihihi...IYEO menyiapkan tiket JAL buatku berangkat ke sana tanggal 4 Oktober ini. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jepang adalah negara asing pertama yang kudatangi, tepat 10 tahun yang lalu. :) Itu pengalaman pertamaku naik pesawat, masuk ke cockpit, pengalaman pertama ke luar negeri, pengalaman pertama ngobrol pakai bahasa inggris dalam kehidupan sehari-hari, pengalaman pertama mimpi pakai bahasa inggris, ikut international workshop, homestay... bengong melihat tingginya gedung-gedung di Tokyo, lalu merasakan sedihnya mengejar kereta tiap hari saat di Saitama, dan challenge walking di Yamanashi....lengkap dengan mandi furo di public bathroom..huiii...eroiiii...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/nm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/nm.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tiga tahun lalu aku kembali lagi. Berlabuh di Yokohama, tinggal di Tokyo lalu terbang ke Tokushima. Jadi moderator di sebuah forum besar, merasakan serunya kabur malam-malam buat hmmm... jalan-jalan sama (mantan) yayang. Ups. :"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makanya setiap kembali ke sana, ada rasa trenyuh, senang, terharu... ingat saat belum bisa pakai seatbelt di kursi pesawat, saat masih bingung gimana cara mengisi disembarkation card atau gimana caranya ambil bagasi... :"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anehnya, tiga kali ini aku selalu datang saat musim gugur, dan selalu dalam waktu ngga lebih dari dua minggu. Jadi jangan tanya, kaya apa jepang di musim semi ya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rasanya, Jepang adalah bagian penting langkah dan loncatanku ke harapan-harapan yang lebih besar. Kumulai 10 tahun yang lalu... dan waktu itu aku melihat ke halaman-halaman pasporku. Aku bertanya, "bisa nggak ya, suatu hari nanti pasporku ini penuh dengan visa?" Bukan cuma buat jalan-jalan, tapi buat belajar lebih banyak, melihat jendela yang lebih lebar, membuka mata, menjalani pengalaman...Alhamdulillaah... dalam 10 tahun ini banyak anugerah indah dari gusti Allah...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku kembali lagi, menjenguk jalan-jalan yang kulewati dengan takjub 10 tahun lalu. &lt;em&gt;I grow up, Japan, and I know that I will still be back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115978290044091264?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115978290044091264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115978290044091264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115978290044091264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115978290044091264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/10/big-in-japan.html' title='Big in Japan'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115935400807184321</id><published>2006-09-27T17:14:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T17:46:48.170+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Democrazy, Bureaucrazy, Low Enforcement (2)</title><content type='html'>Now let’s talk about &lt;em&gt;democrazy&lt;/em&gt;. Some international organizations include Indonesia into&lt;br /&gt;“newly democratic country” criteria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been living in the transitions of democratic system with full consideration. I remember how it felt to live in a country with only one TV channel, without bad news, then I lived the day when I got the questions about the human right violations in East Timor without ever knowing that it did happen, I remember how some seniors disappeared from my campus since they were suspected to be part of subversive movements, I still remember the day when the students rushed to the street and yelled for democracy, I worked for election observation missions to observe how the elections in 2004 were conducted in the standard of democracy, then nowadays I see people destroy things without accepting any blames in the name of democracy…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt fine to live in the first democracy concept that I knew. All I knew until I was 15 was that democracy means the freedom to practice what we believe. When the democratic countries at that time said that the Indonesians lived in dictatorship, I used to be proud of the freedom that we, the Indonesians had to practice our religions. I am still proud of it until now. I haven’t found any other country that provides public holidays for all religious feasts. In Indonesia we have many religious holidays, Eid El Fitri, Eid El Adha, Mauleed, or Isra’ Mi’raj for the moslems, Christmas and Easter for the Chirstians, Galungan for the Hindus, Vesak for the Buddhist…I believe that it’s great. I see that even the countries that always say that they are democratic don’t have this kind of respect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that some people might say that they don’t need those holidays because of their secularism principles. But hey, if those democratic countries would like to be 100% secular to be democratic, why do they have holidays for Easter and Christmas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember how people from old democratic countries like to criticize how Indonesians deal with “minority groups”. They heard, I think impartial information about Indonesia, and they don’t mirror themselves to the minority groups exist in their own country. Somehow even I asked them to clarify the definitions of minority, discrimination and injustice when they started to judge. Somehow they countered back by mentioning that I don’t understand anything about the discrimination due to my tribe-which is the major tribe in Indonesia, and my religion, which is the major religion in Indonesia… but they can’t see it as black and white analogy… I had the experiences of being discriminated when I was in the community that the outsiders call as “minority”…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was proud of the peaceful country where I lived when the world outside said that Indonesian military breached the human right concepts in some of their missions… In one side I feel ashamed and sorry of it. But in the other side, hello, world… is there any military institutions, or any government, that wouldn’t react frontally to beat the militias? Open up our eyes… and we can see that even some countries’ military institutions massacre the people in other countries to save their own nations….&lt;br /&gt;Spies and intelligence agencies are everywhere even in more modern countries they are well-equipped with modern infrastructures to smell the possibilities of subversive actions…&lt;br /&gt;So which one should we call as democratic countries now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If democracy is considered only as the people’s voice… are we all being heard?&lt;br /&gt;Do we all live in impartiality?&lt;br /&gt;Do we all feel the freedom?&lt;br /&gt;Do we obtain feel the fairness?&lt;br /&gt;Do we all have access to the media?&lt;br /&gt;Do we all get the universal franchise in any fields of life?&lt;br /&gt;….. and many others questions to remind that democracy is actually an absurd concept. It is too narrow to derive democracy in several tiny (and sometimes insignificant) points.&lt;br /&gt;Democracy is the system with conditional exceptions. There are always grey intersections in any ideal concepts, where they have to melt somehow in some values of other concepts, where even the right wings are not 100% right and the left wings are not 100% left. There is no place that can adopt 100% concept that can run well in other place. There must be exceptions. Above all, the most important thing is that the people feel comfortable with any concepts declared by the states.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I misunderstood the democracy. But what is pathetic in my eyes is when democracy becomes the excuses for undemocratic actions. I’m tired of the physical or white collar brutality performed in the name of democracy. So let me call it democrazy to represent the out of control, out of mind democracy…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, let’s talk about the &lt;em&gt;LOW enforcement &lt;/em&gt;that replaces the LAW enforcement. It’s really tiring to figure it out again. Bribery, corruption, nepotism are everywhere. Some significant laws and regulations haven’t been made here, while the insignificant and hypocrite law is regulated. It’s confusing to see it, and I don’t feel secure in this state. I still see many corruptors who stole billions of people’s money live in wealth while people who just stole a bike lived in jail for months. I have no other comment: the law enforcement is still in the low standard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I collected some books written when my country was in transitions that we call as reforms. I saw so many hopes there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have only three examples of minimum pairs, but they are already very complicated.&lt;br /&gt;I just wish that I still alive when one day I would hear people say, &lt;strong&gt;“Indonesia is a FUNtastic country!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115935400807184321?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115935400807184321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115935400807184321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115935400807184321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115935400807184321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/democrazy-bureaucrazy-low-enforcement_27.html' title='Democrazy, Bureaucrazy, Low Enforcement (2)'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115935190952444474</id><published>2006-09-27T17:02:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-27T17:13:11.243+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Democrazy, Bureaucrazy, Low Enforcement 1</title><content type='html'>First of all, I must ensure you that there is nothing wrong with the three terms I wrote as the title.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some many terms that sound similar to some certain terms are created to state the states in this country. In linguistic studies we call them as minimum pairs, where the sounds are similar but they have different meanings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be good if the terms used to state the states in my country are the minimum pairs of “fantastic” and “FUNtastic” that sounds positive. Unfortunately, in contrary to that expectation, at the time being the most popular terms are “bureaucrazy” instead of “bureaucracy”, “democrazy” instead of “democracy”, and the latest term I discovered tonight was “low enforcement” instead of “law enforcement”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bureaucrazy represents the craziness of bureaucratic procedures that any people in Indonesia must experience to get any legality. Allow me to quote a report from Jakarta Post published in the first week of September: …Indonesia remains one of the most difficult places in the world to do business, and it may be getting worse, the latest report from the World Bank shows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Indonesia was cited for reducing the time and cost needed to start a business, but progress on other issues -- registration and licensing, tax payment, employment, trade, financing and contract enforcement -- remained almost stagnant. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;While it now takes only 97 days -- from 151 days -- to set up an enterprise in Indonesia, and at a reduced cost of 86.7 percent -- from 101.7 percent -- of the country's per capita income, it still takes almost a year to get through the tangle of licensing. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It also takes another month's time each for paying taxes and clearing customs, as well as almost two years to settle labor issues. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;Hum, see, how long can it be to settle something up in Indonesia? Not only in business, even just to get married we must have a bunch of letters and submit another bunch of citizenship documents…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the government promises to cut off the long chain and reform the system into the simpler one. Hope it works well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;to be continued...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115935190952444474?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115935190952444474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115935190952444474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115935190952444474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115935190952444474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/democrazy-bureaucrazy-low-enforcement.html' title='Democrazy, Bureaucrazy, Low Enforcement 1'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115891002692936315</id><published>2006-09-22T14:24:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-22T14:27:06.943+07:00</updated><title type='text'>SUNNY!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/boney%20m.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/boney%20m.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; Boney M&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a hot evening, and I feel lazy. Something in my head said that I must do something groovy to lite up my mood. I must play “Sunny”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know since when exactly I started to fall in love to the groove of classic disco. It has been a huge curiosity that tonight I try to recall my memory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to look back to my past and I found that maybe it started since I was an unborn baby. My father loved to play Boney M in beautiful weekends since I haven’t been born, continued until I grew up as a little girl, and until some days before he passed away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I listen to Boney M’s songs my head is filled with the image of warm sunshine, the days when I saw my father tapped his feet to the rhythm with smile on her face. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Boney M, Quincy Jones, Earth Wind and Fire, and many other disco legends. However for me the most inspiring disco music is First Be a Woman by the Disco Queen, Gloria Gaynor. I feel that she says clearly how a woman should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Boney M that I’m listening now, I feel that Rasputin casts his spell on me to move and smile. I feel that when Sunny is played I see the brighter day. Ma Baker rhythm brought me to the dark but groovy sides of Chicago...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the classic disco songs can bring the smile back on my face, in any moods. I used to escape to the production room when I felt exhausted after the long working hour just to play some pieces of disco, put the headphone on my ears, closed my eyes and danced to the music. What a perfect relieve!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think classic disco is magic. The beat goes with my heart beat and fills my mind with passions. I feel warm, filled, moved, happy and above all, optimistic. &lt;em&gt;Dance, on &lt;strong&gt;boogie wonderland&lt;/strong&gt;...in this &lt;strong&gt;sunny&lt;/strong&gt; day, and &lt;strong&gt;stayin' alive&lt;/strong&gt;! &lt;/em&gt;:-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115891002692936315?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115891002692936315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115891002692936315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115891002692936315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115891002692936315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/sunny.html' title='SUNNY!'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115874882466299205</id><published>2006-09-20T17:15:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T17:53:22.236+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Smoke Kills</title><content type='html'>"Smoke Kills."&lt;br /&gt;This is the simple sentence that I like to utter whenever I see the people I know smokes around me. Not only when I saw a friend smoked on the balcony in chilling winter, but everytime I have the chance to say it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No to be hypocryte, as some people might have seen me smoking some years ago, but really, I do hate smoking NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to smoke when I worked in a smoking community, and my jobs required the tight deadlines and overtimes. The nicotin used to wake me up when I needed to prepare a program outline until late after midnights... even it felt horrible in my lung, my throat, and my body odor :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the last 2 years I learned that in my mother's family there is a strong tendency of getting the cancer. An auntie passed away in 2005 due to the lung cancer, another auntie had her uterus cut due to the uterus cancer, a cousin died due to the breast cancer, and my grandma left this beautiful world after 2 years suffered from leukimia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I felt stupid as I realised how I gave the chance for that deadly disease to grow in my body when I was smoking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then finally, out of the reasons of horrible feeling in my lung, my throat, and at my body odor... I decided to quit smoking totally. I don't want to regret my life some years after now, and I don't want to feel the pains like what my relatives felt before their last day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a consequence some friends mocked at me.. but I don't care. I would mock at myself more bitterly if one day I got a cancer somewhere in my body. I started to remove the ash trays from my house, even I wouldn't prepare it for any guests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel also the stronger rejection toward tobbaco products. I tried my best not to work for any events sponsored by tobacco products...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But... today.... I was involved in an event in my campus sponsored by a huge cigarette company...&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know it at the beginning. All I know was that my professors asked me to be the co-host of a music event held by a TV station that was aimed to promote my faculty... But this morning as I arrived at the venue, I saw the huge sign of that company at the backdrop... :((&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst of all was, the company opened a booth to sell their cigarette product in front of my campus!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that they have big budget that might enhance the students' activities... but somehow my heart said that it's not ethical to bring the poisson in campus atmosphere... I was disappointed that today I worked with something that kills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not an assertive person to say "no" frontally, especially because I knew that there was no other co-host prepared to change my position as the host that represented the campus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about to yell at the audiences, "Hey ya, you know that this good event is sponsored by a cigarette company... But let me remind you an important thing: SMOKE KILLS!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*wondering what would happen if I did that...:p*&lt;br /&gt;But really, I mean it: SMOKE KILLS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115874882466299205?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115874882466299205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115874882466299205' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115874882466299205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115874882466299205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/smoke-kills.html' title='Smoke Kills'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115874680119882696</id><published>2006-09-20T16:49:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T17:06:41.210+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Punctual!</title><content type='html'>Belakangan ini aku lagi merasakan &lt;em&gt;culture shock &lt;/em&gt;seputar ketepatan waktu alias punctuality. Padahal yang ada selama aku jauh dari Indonesia aku selalu jadi manusia paling telat... tapi baru-baru ini, ketika balik lagi, aku selalu jadi manusia yang datang paling awal... bingung deh. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nih contohnya:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;19/09/2006&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Technical Meeting.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Venue: the studio of a local TV  channel&lt;br /&gt;Scheduled at  14:00&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The producer said that in 19 Sept morning he would re-confirm the time line. In fact I got no phone calls! I tried to call him, but his phone was off...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I arrived 15 minutes late because I took the wrong route. But, among 7 expected attendants, only 3 came on time...and the last meeting attendant arrived at... 15:40! tsk-tsk-tsk...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;20/09/2006&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Show&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Venue: Faculty of Letters Diponegoro University&lt;br /&gt;Scheduled to be started at 10:00&lt;br /&gt;MC was expected to arrive at 09:30, the latest.&lt;br /&gt;Wardrobe was expected to be ready at 09:30&lt;br /&gt;Merchandise for games show was expected to be ready at 09:00&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I arrived at 09:15.&lt;br /&gt;But, the other MC arrived at... 10:20 !&lt;br /&gt;Wardrobe arrived at 09:50&lt;br /&gt;Merchandise hum... arrived at 10:15&lt;br /&gt;Event started at 10:50...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Capek deh gueeeeee!!!! :((&lt;br /&gt;It feels weird to be punctual here...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115874680119882696?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115874680119882696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115874680119882696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115874680119882696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115874680119882696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/be-punctual.html' title='Be Punctual!'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115858981805412242</id><published>2006-09-18T21:11:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T21:30:18.173+07:00</updated><title type='text'>3.43</title><content type='html'>Alhamdulillaah...&lt;br /&gt;Siang ini hasil ujian skripsiku keluar juga. Dapat nilai AB... dan ini berarti IPK terakhirku adalah 3.43. Hiks... terharu...huhuhuhu....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inget betapa lima tahun terakhir ini aku ngga bener-bener"ada" di Semarang, dan inget kalau skripsi ini kukerjakan dengan susah payah setelah lima kali penolakan judul, setelah melewati banyak perjalanan, dan empat kali pindah kerja.. Hidupku memang rada membingungkan, jadi jangan ikutan bingung ya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku masih suka bengong membayangkan "ramai"nya hidupku selama kuliah di ekstensi ini. Kalau dihitung-hitung selama masa lima tahun kuliahku, buat urusan pekerjaan dan training saja total ada sekitar 8 bulan aku lewatkan di Jakarta (2001-2006), sekitar 3 minggu di Surabaya (2002 dan 2005), 2 bulanan di Yogya (2001-2006), 2,5 bulan di Banyumas (2004), dan 'pretilan' hari-hari lain di kota-kota di Jawa Tengah, sebulan di Bali (2004-2006), seminggu di Lombok (2006), berminggu-minggu di Jepara,   5,5 bulan di Perancis (2004 dan 2006), 3 minggu di Singapura (2003-2005), seminggu di Malaysia (2003 dan 2006), seminggu di Thailand (2003 dan 2004), lima hari di Filipina (2003), dan sepuluh hari di Jepang (2003)... &lt;em&gt;What a life!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sampai saat ini kalau ingat semuanya aku masih suka heran.. dan bersyukur... Alhamdulillaah... aku masih bisa ngerampungin kuliah, meski banyak juga yang sempat protes, "hidupmu mau dibawa kemana sih?" saat melihat aku lagi-lagi pergi dan pergi terus... kerja-kerja dan kerja terus...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terimakasih semua dosenku, terutama dosen pembimbing skripsiku, semua staf di fakultas sastra UNDIP, untuk salah satu kesempatan terindah di hidupku. :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Terimakasih juga buat semua teman yang bersedia kutitipin buat ngurus KRS dan KHS saat aku sedang berada entah dimana... Aku berhutang banyak pada kalian!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buat semua sahabatku, saudaraku, keluargaku dan terutama IBUKU, kelulusan ini bukti rasa sayangku... :-) Buat Bapak almarhum, semoga saat ini Bapak tersenyum melihatku dari atas sana. Bapak selalu bilang, setidaknya pendidikanku harus sedikit lebih tinggi dari Ibu... insya Allah sudah tercapai loh, Bapak... :-*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hiks.. aku baru tahu, kalau lulus S1 bisa sebahagia ini...hiks-hiks..hikksss.... Alhamdulillaah...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115858981805412242?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115858981805412242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115858981805412242' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115858981805412242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115858981805412242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/343.html' title='3.43'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115841318563515169</id><published>2006-09-16T18:05:00.002+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T22:06:18.596+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Delicious Loenpia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/IMG_1349.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/IMG_1349.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Loenpia&lt;/strong&gt;, or the &lt;em&gt;spring roll&lt;/em&gt;, ou &lt;em&gt;roulleau de printemps&lt;/em&gt;, is definitely delicious. It's the famous typical food of Semarang, and I love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I discovered another delicious meaning of Loenpia here in my hometown. I found &lt;a href="http://loenpia.net/"&gt;loenpia.net&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;Semarang bloggers community&lt;/strong&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I encouraged myself to apply as one of "&lt;em&gt;tukang loenpia&lt;/em&gt;" (our term for "member"- literally it means "loenpia maker") last month, and I found nice people there. ;-) They are very helpful, and they accept a totally amateur blogger like me :"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It always feel good when we meet people with similar interests. Not only that we love to blog, but we also have the same dream of popularize the internet based technology to the community.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/IMG_1348.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/IMG_1348.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Supported by &lt;em&gt;tukang loenpia &lt;/em&gt;who have strong IT backgrounds, loenpia.net offers trainings and workshops for any groups of communities who would like to learn more about internet. Voluntary spirit is hihly required in this mission.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Funtastically enough, those IT experts in loenpia give us, the amateurs, chances to assist them in the trainings. :-) The positive atmosphere has been constructing nice relationship and friendship between us. Girls are also warmly welcomed in this community, and we, the girls feel comfortable here...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/IMG_1360.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/IMG_1360.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Not only that we work on our hobby, but we also share the knowledge, laughters, jokes, CDs, and very often, photos! :-) We love to be photographed, anywhere, anytime, anyhow. :"&gt; Thanks to &lt;a href="http://blog.faniez.net"&gt;Fany&lt;/a&gt;, the sweet girl, who always brings her camera then shares all her pics with us... the photos here are her courtesy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The muslim &lt;em&gt;tukang loenpia&lt;/em&gt; always take time to pray together too, even we are in the middle of busy training sessions. Maybe we are inspired by the statement written on this banner: hahahaha... :-)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/IMG_1383.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/IMG_1383.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So, that was a little story of my new discovery. A "delicious" community named loenpia.net. :-)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(*thanks jeng Fany, for the pics!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115841318563515169?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115841318563515169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115841318563515169' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115841318563515169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115841318563515169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/delicious-loenpia.html' title='Delicious Loenpia'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115841022273472368</id><published>2006-09-16T18:05:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-16T19:46:33.920+07:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Leaving for Paris....:-)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;sepulang sekolah di taman Trocadero...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;lagi belajar ato narsis sih?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lisa, si mbak asal Surabaya, teman baikku, teman sekelasku saat di Alliance Francais Paris telfon tadi pagi. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"BONJOUR!" serunya saat membuka obrolan. Hahaha... aku jadi geli... :-)) giliran dia lagi di Surabaya aja bahasa Perancisnya kedengaran heboh... padahal, selama kami melewatkan lebih dari dua bulan bersama di Paris, kami selalu ngobrol dalam Bahasa Jawa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kami "menaklukkan" musim dingin dan awal musim semi di Paris tahun ini dengan mengerjakan PR bersama, menjelajah centres commerciales-dari Bastille, Chatelet, Rivoli, Saint-Jacques, Champs Elyssee, Centre Ville... pokoknya bersama dia aku jadi tahu kemana kita bisa belanja, belanja dan belanja... &lt;em&gt;maturnuwun yo mbak&lt;/em&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;Sementara, aku mengajarinya membiasakan diri dengan peta-peta Metro dan RER... biar ngga naik bis melulu di sana... &lt;em&gt;maturnuwun yo Asri...&lt;/em&gt;(halaahhh...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dia menghiburku saat aku sedih, membuatkan indomie, bakso kuah, tempe goreng atau sambel terong, saat kami lapar sepulang sekolah...hiks... aneh ngga sih, di Paris kok malah makan sambel terong? :-) hihihi... tapi bukan mbak Lisa namanya kalo ngga pernah kangen makanan Indonesia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kami melewatkan photo sessions bersama Unkay, fotografer seksi asal Mexico, melewatkan siang-siang melintasi taman-taman di Luxembourg, sekedar membeli pain aux cereales di boulangerie du Rue Val de Grace atau mencari pembalut wanita yang pas di monoprix...&lt;br /&gt;Hauoooouuuu.... ah, roti keras bertabur cereal... dan tukang roti kiyut itu...&lt;br /&gt;Hiks, kok inget roti kesukaan Jacques aja bikin aku mellow gini ya? :( &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dia menelfon untuk bilang kalau malam ini dia berangkat lagi ke Paris... dan hari-hari diAlliance Francais pasti akan terasa berbeda tanpa bocah Semarang yang suka bawel ini.... Tanpa manifestation yang berlangsung di sepanjang Quartier d'Etudiantes seperti April lalu... tanpa hujan rintik-rintik dan payung mungil kami di sepanjang boulevard Raspail...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baru tersadar, aku kangen Jeng Lisa-ku. Aku juga jadi kangen Paris... Paris yang membingungkan kadang-kadang, tapi tak juga habis terjelajah dengan ratusan cerita yang berbeda meski aku telah melewatkan empat musim yang berbeda di sana... (dan sekarang mendekati musim gugur. Pasti cantik sekali di sana...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ati-ati ya jeng Lisa... dan...&lt;strong&gt;I'm sure I'll be back, Paris!:*&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115841022273472368?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115841022273472368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115841022273472368' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115841022273472368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115841022273472368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/shes-leaving-for-paris.html' title='She&apos;s Leaving for Paris....:-)'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115840748774107136</id><published>2006-09-16T18:05:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-16T19:00:35.290+07:00</updated><title type='text'>She Thought Badly....</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I had my thesis exam.&lt;br /&gt;The first exam in the morning was perfect. I was satisfied as there were no significant corrections but the changes of the capital letters that I used.&lt;br /&gt;But, the second exam, with my own academic supervisor was a HELL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not expect that horrible situation, and I was not ready for the heart-breaking statements. Everybody around me knows how hard it was for me to finish my thesis, and how I tried to work on it between my trips to different places, my jobs, and my personal problems....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took my thesis VERY SERIOUSLY. It has been my baby for months, especially since I went back from France in May. I did my best, spending hours and hours to find the reading materials in internet, as well as buying a bunch of books to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Linguistics has been far away from my real life, but I tried to love it, as much as when I decided to take it as my major in my faculty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gained the progress on my thesis step by step under the very kind and serious guidance from my thesis supervisor, and we discussed what I wrote a lot. Not only once or twice, but it was really&lt;strong&gt; a lot&lt;/strong&gt;, with the literatures around us during the discussion to prove that I used the correct theories and applied them well in my research... (thank you very much, &lt;strong&gt;Pak Agus&lt;/strong&gt;...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT, yesterday evening, someone who I trusted to be very supportive academic supervisor in the last five years &lt;strong&gt;dumped&lt;/strong&gt; my hard work like a trash. She JUDGED, that as if the words and sentences I wrote in some parts of the thesis were NOT MY STYLE. It didn't represent MY PERSONALITY. And, the most striking statement was, "are you sure that these are your own words?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IMAGINE...&lt;br /&gt;She mentioned those prejudices only because she &lt;strong&gt;thought&lt;/strong&gt; that I am a straight forward person when I talk!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For God's sake... she knew NOTHING about me and she said she was surprised to find that I wrote "flowery words"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I might look like a straight forward person when I spoke in my talkshows, in the meetings, in my acquitances with the people I respect, e.g. lecturers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But personally I am not exactly like that. It's just part of my journalistic profession...it was part of my politeness standard, where I even very hesitate to call my lecturers, worrying if I disturbed their time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her statement hurt me deeply. She doubted &lt;strong&gt;my quality&lt;/strong&gt;, she doubted &lt;strong&gt;my honesty&lt;/strong&gt;, she doubted &lt;strong&gt;my capability&lt;/strong&gt;, and the worst of all, she doubted &lt;strong&gt;my personality&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just ask my family, my bestfriends or my friends. They would all give the same testimonial that I am such a talkative person with many expressions. Yes, I am a very expressive person. Added with the fact that I love to write, not only in Indonesian but also in English, French and even Javanese, added that I was twice becoming the semi-finalist in an international poetry contest, that I have been hanging out with people from different nationalities and culture, that I spent many times working in international surroundings, plus the fact that I also write the fictions, published by teenage mags and tabloid... it's so ridiculous, but also so painful to hear her accusation... :-((&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried a lot after my exam. Damn...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An academic work, as well as professional work, shouldn't be taken personally. Thus I think a subjective verbs of feeling are not appropriate to JUDGE the quality of a work.&lt;br /&gt;But she DID use it, by saying, "It's really TIRING to read your thesis."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "excuse me?" and hoped that she would change her statement. But no. She repeated the statement again. "It's tiring to read your thesis."&lt;br /&gt;And I asked her why. She said, "because you talked too much about something that is NOT RELATED to your research".&lt;br /&gt;But in my opinion, how would people understand what I wrote if they didn't have any idea about the organization and the missions that made them publishing political statements?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder why someone who should have been a senior lecturer didn't use more appropriate statement for an academic project like "your thesis doesn't meet the standard of academic writing". I would be able to accept it much better than the statement of "it's tiring to read your thesis"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only that... she also doubted the quality of younger lecturers. It was proven when she recommended me to meet lecturer from Indonesian language department, to clarify the quality of my analysis on English-Indonesian translation. I asked her whether I could discuss with a young lecturer I know well... but she said "no, not that young lecturer please. You know... I can't really believe that he could give you good information. I want you to meet the senior. And I will check whether you met him or not after you revise your thesis."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again. The way she explained showed how she doubted someone's &lt;strong&gt;honesty&lt;/strong&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe the best statement that she made of all the examination process was, "I am a bit disappointed of your work."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out of the room, angry, sad, upset. And finally I cried after I had time to meet my thesis supervisor. He was the one who knew how I worked on my thesis, how it was corrected, how it progressed... And I feel thankful that he is such a positive person who understands the students well...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very disappointed that I had this horrible experience by the end of my academic year.&lt;br /&gt;I am a person who respects the values of CREDIBILITY. I would like to shout at her, saying that I was not as bad as what she thought. I wanted to condemn her for humiliating me... yet, she is a person who has the power to decide the final result of my study...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not fair for me. It's not fair for me. It's not fair for me....!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115840748774107136?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115840748774107136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115840748774107136' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115840748774107136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115840748774107136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/she-thought-badly.html' title='She Thought Badly....'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115823307876982885</id><published>2006-09-14T17:39:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-14T18:47:12.373+07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Death of A Salesman</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/death_of_a_salesman.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/death_of_a_salesman.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;pic taken from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.adg-europe.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;www.adg-europe.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Linguistics studies are my majors, yet to finalize my study I had to pass the comprehensive exams on English literatures too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I learned some old scripts of Oedipus Rex, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet to get ready to answers the questions on classic dramas. As for the contemporary drama, I picked the script of "&lt;a href="http://www.gradesaver.com/classicnotes/titles/salesman/"&gt;The Death of A Salesman&lt;/a&gt;" written by &lt;a href="http://www.gradesaver.com/classicnotes/authors/about_arthur_miller.html"&gt;Arthur Miller &lt;/a&gt;to learn at the beginning of this week since my examiner said that I must prepare myself for a discussion on contemporary drama. Thus I red also some analysis on it, but shortly I would just say that it touched me for the representations of human characters and life's ups and downs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The flashbacks are also interesting. How men can't ever predict their future and how their life would be, and how in hypocracy man can be a perfect figure in front of the other's eyes... It is true that even Willy Loman, the salesman is just an ordinary man, unsuccesfull, even powerless figure, yet he is no less worthy than the tragic heroes in the other tragic scenes. He was a perfect father in the eyes of his sons, and the tragic flaw brought him misfortune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end, the tragedy raised the pity, bittersweet feeling and the fear. Me, I was terrified too! Life is just so unpredictable. It would be a misfortune if life around us ends in tragedy, as the one happened in Loman's family... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115823307876982885?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115823307876982885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115823307876982885' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115823307876982885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115823307876982885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/death-of-salesman.html' title='The Death of A Salesman'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115822932272989258</id><published>2006-09-14T16:26:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-14T17:38:01.693+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Qui a 27 Ans? :-)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/P9110699.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/P9110699.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;En Lundi le Septembre 11, j'ai eu un concours de presentateurs pour le telejournal en Anglais. J'ai pensee que je suis le plus agee de les autres participants, mais... a-ha, regardez les photos et repondez ce question: &lt;strong&gt;qui a 27 ans? ;-) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;On Monday, September 11, I had an English Newscaster Competition. I thought that I was the oldest compared to the other participants, but...a-ha, take a look at the photos and answer the question: who is 27 year old?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/asri-ari-bintang2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/asri-ari-bintang2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Donc, je vous confirme : Les filles Indonesiennes sont jolie quand elles ont 27, 21, ou 22 ans... ou quand elles ont moins ou plus de ces ages!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well, I just would like to tell you: Indonesian girls are pretty when they are 27,21, or 22...or even when they are younger or older than those ages!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So, my message is: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;YOU CAN ALWAYS SHINE, WHEREVER, WHENEVER, HOWEVER YOU ARE, BECAUSE YOU ARE ALL THE STARS!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;*thanks to my friend, Bintang, for the photos...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115822932272989258?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115822932272989258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115822932272989258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115822932272989258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115822932272989258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/qui-27-ans.html' title='Qui a 27 Ans? :-)'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115813813301611806</id><published>2006-09-13T15:52:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-14T18:55:40.646+07:00</updated><title type='text'>5 Ps</title><content type='html'>Prof. Eko Budihardjo was the rector of my university. Many students admired him, as he's such an easy-going personality in his smartness. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always note down interesting part of his speech - where he always puts interesting advices that are easy to remember. So, 2 days ago I joined a newscaster competition, and he was invited to commence it by his opening remarks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said something that I will always remember about "5 Ps" that we should notice when we're preparing ourselves for a competition:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"perfect preparations prevent poor presentation" &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's 100% right! ;-)&lt;br /&gt;*and I won the 1st prize* hehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/P9110709.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/P9110709.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...tapi USB key-ku terinfeksi trojan setelah transfer foto-foto lomba dari laptop temanku..haouuu....tidaaakkkk.....:(("&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115813813301611806?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115813813301611806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115813813301611806' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115813813301611806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115813813301611806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/5-ps.html' title='5 Ps'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115813554573820544</id><published>2006-09-13T14:35:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-13T15:19:05.790+07:00</updated><title type='text'>songs that I miss</title><content type='html'>Brum-brum... I hit the road on my black honda. Extremely hot afternoon. But nice songs played in my head. Favorite songs that I love so much, the ones I love to play in the afternoon like this. Mundo Kane's "New York Afternoon"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then when I turned to a shady road, the song changed into Randy Crawford's "Look Who's Crying Now".. dunno why... but I've just realized how I miss that oh-so rarely played songs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I also miss Ai No Corrida, Malibu, Twilight World, Lalala Means I Love You, Rio de Janeiro Blue... and regret myself: why didn't I record them when I was working in radio?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hm, I think that was because I respect the&lt;strong&gt; intellectual rights&lt;/strong&gt;..but.. gosh, it's so difficult to find some of those songs in store now. haou...:(( It's torturing me when I miss them like now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wished that tonight I would find them in the radio. :**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"our love has come, started in a new york afternoon..."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115813554573820544?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115813554573820544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115813554573820544' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115813554573820544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115813554573820544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/songs-that-i-miss.html' title='songs that I miss'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115804478224867464</id><published>2006-09-12T14:01:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T14:06:22.246+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and My Self-Esteem</title><content type='html'>When you are born as a star,&lt;br /&gt;none could prevent you from shining&lt;br /&gt;you are the star because that's the way you are,&lt;br /&gt;none can change it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You remain the gorgeous energy&lt;br /&gt;that crosses universe's atmosphere&lt;br /&gt;brighten up the rest of the sky,&lt;br /&gt;wherever you stay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(me and my self-esteem. when we move on)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115804478224867464?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115804478224867464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115804478224867464' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115804478224867464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115804478224867464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/me-and-my-self-esteem.html' title='Me and My Self-Esteem'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115804446692750521</id><published>2006-09-12T13:49:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-12T14:12:20.133+07:00</updated><title type='text'>9/11 Reflections</title><content type='html'>9/11-2001 to 9/11-2006...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people condemn when they mourn&lt;br /&gt;Many people are in enormous anger when they are in grieve&lt;br /&gt;Some people plan to revenge when they cry&lt;br /&gt;Some people can turn into a cruel creature when their hearts are broken&lt;br /&gt;Many people gain their unpredictable power when they feel powerless&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The survivors always remember how it felt to be the victims,&lt;br /&gt;murders took place in the name of the deceased,&lt;br /&gt;and many wars start just right after the funerals...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(me, the survivor of many life coincidences: 9/11-2006)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115804446692750521?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115804446692750521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115804446692750521' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115804446692750521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115804446692750521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/911-reflections.html' title='9/11 Reflections'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115780956655447734</id><published>2006-09-09T20:38:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T20:46:06.566+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Donor Yuks....</title><content type='html'>Asal tidak sakit, jarang sekali ada orang Indonesia yang memeriksakan diri dalam jangka waktu tertentu. Ketiadaaan waktu dan biaya sering jadi alasan kita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Padahal, sebetulnya ada loh, cara sederhana untuk tahu kondisi kesehatan kita, sekaligus beramal. Donor darah aja di PMI.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di Indonesia kita diperbolehkan donor darah tiga bulan sekali, selama berat badan kita minimal 45 kilogram, tekanan darah minimal 110/90 (untuk perempuan) atau 50 kilogram dan tekanan darah minimal 120/100 (untuk laki-laki. Ini berarti, tiga bulan sekali atau empat kali dalam setahun kita bakal tahu apakah kita cukup sehat atau nggak. Soalnya, kita harus melewati pemeriksaan tekanan darah dan kadar hemoglobin dalam darah kita sebelum darah bisa diambil dari tubuh. Hasilnya bisa langsung kita ketahui.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contohnya, terakhir kali donor tanggal 7 Agustus lalu Hb-ku 12,7 dan tekanan darahku 110/70. Alhamdulillah deh, aku cukup sehat! Nah, darah kita kan juga diperiksa dengan cermat sebelum sampai ke tangan pasien… kalau ternyata PMI menemukan bahwa kita mengidap penyakit hepatitis, PMS (penyakit menular seksual) atau HIV/AIDS, PMI akan mengirimkan surat pemberitahuan yang bersifat sangat pribadi pada kita. Jadinya kebayang kan, kalau kita rutin donor tiga bulan sekali, segala pengobatan buat penyakit-penyakit itu bisa kita jalankan sesegera mungkin…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sekarang, bicara soal ketakutan kalau-kalau kita kekurangan darah setelah mendonor,ada angka-angka yang diungkap majalah Gatra No. 32 tahun XII 28 Juni 2006: setelah 24 jam volume darah akan kembali normal. Sel-sel darah akan terbentuk dalam waktu 4 sampai 8 minggu. Sel-sel darah merah harus digunakan sebelum 42 hari. Platelet (keeping darah, untuk pembekuan) harus dipakai dalam 5 hari, dan plasma dapat dibekukan dan digunakan dalam jangka waktu 1 tahun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sayangnya sampai sekarang, jumlah darah yang terkumpul baru sekitar 0,47% dari jumlah penduduk Indonesia, yaitu cuma 1.137.278 kantong per hari, padahal idealnya jumlah darah yang tersedia berkisar 1% dari jumlah penduduk Indonesia, atau 2.419.739 kantong per hari. Ada 165 unit transfusi darah di seluruh Indonesia yang siap melayani para donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jadi, tunggu apa lagi? Buat aku, bisa mendonorkan darah adalah kebahagiaan. Kenapa? Karena cuma orang sehat yang bisa diterima untuk mendonorkan darahnya. Buatku, mendengar pengakuan bahwa aku sehat adalah sesuatu yang sangat istimewa. Teman-teman pasti tahu, selama bertahun-tahun aku selalu dinyatakan “tidak cukup sehat” oleh para dokter. Sekarang aku kuat dan sehat, dan aku merayakan kebahagiaan ini dengan menjadi donor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku juga senang dengan kenyataan bahwa saat ini aku nggak tampil lagi di TV. Saat aku masih tampil, pipiku yang berbakat chubby bikin aku harus bertahan di kisaran berat badan 42-43 kilogram kalau nggak mau keliatan terlalu “lebar” di layar kaca. Padahal menjaga berat segitu sama sekali nggak mudah. Jaga makan kadang terasa menyebalkan juga… yang lebih menyebalkan lagi, dengan berat badan segitu aku nggak akan diijinkan mendonorkan darahku, meski di Jepang berat badan minimal perempuan yang boleh menjadi donor adalah 40 kilogram (tapi ingat, kualitas asupan gizi kita kan beda…).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nah, tujuh bulan ini aku benar-benar merayakan kesehatanku dan kebebasan berberat badan 45-46 kilogram… I feel happier with all the way I am: my chubby cheeks, me-still look beautiful, and the fact that I can give my blood!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selanjutnya, ada catatan gado-gado seputar donor darah nih… - Setiap hari kebutuhan darah cukup tinggi. Jumlah pendonor dan stok darah yang ada seringkali tidak sebanding dengan jumlah permintaan darah yang masuk ke PMI. - Banyak yang mengeluh, “para pendonor memberikan darahnya dengan cuma-cuma, tapi kok untuk ambil darah di PMI kita harus bayar mahal*?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sebenarnya biaya yang dibebankan pada orang-orang yang membutuhkan darah adalah biaya operasional pengelolaan darah. Sebelum sampai ke tangan pasien, darah kan harus melewati proses pemeriksaan, dikemas dalam kantong-kantong berkualitas tinggi, disimpan dengan layak… nah, inilah yang menyebabkan PMI mematok “harga” yang sebetulnya bukan “harga”. -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngga perlu khawatir dengan kualitas sanitasi di PMI. Semua jarum yang dipakai, baik untuk pemeriksaan Hb atau untuk menyedot darah adalah jarum baru. - Kalau Anda takut jarum suntik, atau ngeri melihat besarnya jarum yang ditusukkan untuk menyedot darah, palingkan saja pendangan Anda saat jarum akan ditusukkan. Selanjutnya, se-mengerikan yang dibayangkan kok...&lt;br /&gt;- Jangan begadang di malam sebelum Anda mendonorkan darah. Bisa lemes dan pusing loh…&lt;br /&gt;- Untuk perempuan, pastikan bahwa menstruasi Anda sudah selesai minimal seminggu sebelum tanggal donor.&lt;br /&gt;- Jangan paksakan diri kalau Anda sudah merasa pusing sebelum mendonorkan darah. Pastikan Anda benar-benar siap, supaya Anda merasa nyaman selama dan sesudah proses pengambilan darah.&lt;br /&gt;- Di UTDC PMI kota Semarang ada ruang khusus untuk penderita thalassemia. Aku selalu merasa bersyukur bahwa aku cukup sehat untuk memberi sedikit sekali dari apa yang mereka butuhkan…&lt;br /&gt;- Ada beberapa bentuk penghargaan yang diberikan PMI buat para pendonor. Di kota Semarang, kalau kita dalam setahun bisa donor tiga kali di UTDC, ada T-shirt cantik yang dihadiahkan buat kita! Selain itu ada juga penghargaan berupa pin yang diberikan buat orang yang sudah mendonor 10 kali, 25 kali, 50 kali sampai 100 kali!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para pendonor keseratus dipertemukan dengan presiden RI, mendapat pin emas dan penghargaan. Meski penghargaan bukan tujuan utama kita jadi donor, tapi tetep aja, seru kan? -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lebih dari semua itu, donor darah adalah cek kesehatan istimewaku! Buat yang tinggal di Semarang, ini alamat Unit Transfusi Darah cabang PMI Kota Semarang: Jl. Mgr. Sugiyopranoto No.35 Semarang 50141 Telp. 024-3542572 atau 3515050&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jadi, yuks donor yuuukss....;-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115780956655447734?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115780956655447734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115780956655447734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115780956655447734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115780956655447734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/donor-yuks.html' title='Donor Yuks....'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115467464842388357</id><published>2006-08-04T13:07:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-08-04T14:28:50.426+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Apa yang Perlu Dibicarakan?</title><content type='html'>Kata pak Mochtar Lubis di sebuah buku yang kubaca, tidak ada gunanya membawa-bawa keburukan negara kita ke luar negeri, apalagi sampai membahasnya bersama orang-orang asing yang nantinya memberi rapor merah buat negara kita tanpa memberikan solusi, atau justru memberikan solusi yang mencekik bangsa kita sendiri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dua tahun yang lalu, saat aku sedang berada di sebuah pelatihan presenter acara-acara seputar Pemilu, seorang peneliti politik dari Amerika mewawancaraiku. Dia bertanya konsep kerahasiaan dalam pemberitaan tentang suatu negara. Di bidang politik, tentunya. Tentang perlu tidaknya hal itu dibuka seluas-luasnya pada dunia luar, dan tentang perlu tidaknya negara lain "peduli" pada urusan itu. Dari jawabanku, dia berkomentar, "kamu seperti mahasiswa idealis".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ada yang bilang, sikap ini hasil didikan orde baru: tidak mengumbar keburukan kita di mata bangsa lain. Kalau dulu, alasannya "demi stabilitas nasional". Tapi dalam kasusku sikap ini sebetulnya hasil didikan Bapak. Bapakku almarhum juga selalu mengajarkan hal yang sama. Masalah yang ada di dalam rumah tangga kita sebaiknya diselesaikan di dalam dinding rumah kita juga... tetangga, tukang sayur, apalagi pak lurah ngga perlu tahu, karena apa yang buruk akan lebih mudah diingat oleh manusia. Ingat aja, di dalam pemberitaan maupun drama, tragedi tetap jadi penarik perhatian utama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Karena itulah, di blog ini aku berusaha menceritakan ketidak-nyamanan negara kita dengan bahasa Indonesia, dan keindahan bumi Indonesia dengan bahasa Inggris. Biarlah, orang Indonesia yang tahu membuka mata dan memahami. Dan biarlah, mereka yang ngga memahami bahasa kita hanya mengerti cerita indah untuk melihat Indonesia dari sisi lain, atau menggerakkan hati buat membantu seperti untuk kasus gempa bumi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sayangnya ada hukum yang berkata kalau yang namanya bangkai, serapi apapun kita menutupinya, tetap saja baunya tercium. Yah, kalau sudah begini sih sudah susah bin sulit sekali. Dan sayangnya, hukum ini benar-benar berlaku buat negara ini.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Negara ini tak berdinding. Dan dengan reputasi yang tidak menguntungkan yang telah terbangun, agak sulit membuat orang tak berprasangka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanpa bicara pun kita jadi bahan pembicaraan. Dan sayangnya, sekali lagi, apa yang buruk, sangat mudah diingat manusia. Dan apa yang buruk membuat orang berprasangka. Sepuluh kebaikan saja kadang tak cukup untuk membuat orang melupakan, apalagi kalau negara (dan kita sebagai bagiannya) tak kunjung sadar bahwa kita jadi bahan pergunjingan... apalagi kalau kita ikut-ikutan menjelek-jelekkan nama bumi tempat rah ibu kita tetumpah saat mengantarkan kita ke kehidupan. Keburukan itu akan terus melekat, erat di nama bumi kita, pun nama kita sebagai penghuninya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orang Indonesia tidak disiplin, anarkis, miskin, tidak demokratis, hipokrit, korup, jam karet... dan status "orang Indonesia" melekat di KTP kita, paspor kita, visa kita, kartu kredit kita, rekening bank kita...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tak mudah jadi orang Indonesia. Status membuat kita harus melewati prosedur berbelit buat mendapat visa di negara-negara Barat. Status membuat kita terus ditawari kredit yang mencekik, menciptakan hutang tujuh turunan. Status membuat kita ditanya, "apakah di indonesia ada mobil?". Status kewarganegaraan kita membuat kartu kredit kita tertolak, atau dicaci maki bidder di E-Bay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah. Ah. Sudahlah. Apa lagi yang perlu dibicarakan?&lt;br /&gt;Kenyataannya kita memang jauh dari sempurna. Tanpa bicara pun semua telah memahami ketidaksempurnaan kita. Tapi setidaknya, kita mestinya berusaha berbuat lebih baik saat mulut kita tak lagi dipercaya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MERDEKA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115467464842388357?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115467464842388357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115467464842388357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115467464842388357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115467464842388357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/08/apa-yang-perlu-dibicarakan.html' title='Apa yang Perlu Dibicarakan?'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115340082216621254</id><published>2006-07-20T19:37:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-07-20T20:07:02.206+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Merapi Seeker</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Circa May-June 2006 mount Merapi at Central Java, Indonesia, seemed to get sick. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;It "caughed" and got "cold" all the time, spilling out the red lava and hot clouds, as well as spreading out the volcanic ash to the cities around. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Some people said that the name of Merapi is derived from the old javanese words of "meru" (mountain) and "api" (fire). No wonder, it has been one of the most active volcano on earth. And I guess, I became a &lt;strong&gt;Merapi seeker...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/m5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/m5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;view of Merapi, an evening at Wedi, Klaten&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I found the thrilling sensation whenever I saw the active Merapi. That's why, I seek for the best views of Merapi everywhere. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I visited Ketep, a little village in Magelang that is located on the slope of the caughing mountain, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I visited Kemalang, another little village in Klaten regency, and whenever I passed through the route, I eagerly watched the glory of the power of nature... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Human are nothing but the fragile creatures... I saw thousands of people from the villages around the crater living in refugee camps everynight. Sad, but it reminds me that nature is still unbeatable power.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/pohon%20abu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/pohon%20abu.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ketep, Magelang. Trees were covered by volcanic ash.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/pmi-merapi.jpg"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/pmi-merapi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;With the Red Cross volunteers on volcanic sand and ash. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A chilling night at Kemalang, Klaten, where public vehicles were not allowed to pass, 8 km from the peak...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/m4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/m4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;and that's what we witnessed from Kemalang: sparkling lava!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/m3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/m3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I still keep many other photos of Merapi in my PC. Some were taken from the air, when I flew from Jogja to Denpasar, Bali, and when I went back from Mataram to Jogja. In many weeks, Merapi had been a thrilling beauty. And again, I was lucky to have chances to see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115340082216621254?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115340082216621254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115340082216621254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115340082216621254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115340082216621254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/merapi-seeker.html' title='Merapi Seeker'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115305722621720246</id><published>2006-07-16T19:31:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T20:40:26.283+07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can't Swim, But I Did It! :-)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/lbk-gt-otw4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/lbk-gt-otw4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we had been so curious to see how the famous beautiful islands of Lombok look like. The islands that is said as heaven on earth, where the atolls are around, where the tourist partying from dusk til dawn. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;That morning we started our journey at 9 a.m. from Senggigi Beach. We sailed in a private boat, which means that there were no other passengers but Jeff and me. It took 1 hour to sail in that wooden boat, with magnificent sceneries around. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I was amazed to see the beauty of the islands: coral reefs, white sand, clear water, and no car are allowed in that island. First we took a ride on a horse car called “Cidomo” to see around the first island, Gili Trawangan. Next we also visited the turtle hatchery, before we moved to the second island, Gili Meno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/lbk-gt17.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/lbk-gt17.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;People always said that when you come to Gili, you must see the beauty of underwater world. But how come, I can’t swim…But all my fears of getting drawn faded as I saw the crystal water. I finally decided to do that. YES, Snorkeling! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;With the life jacket to keep me floating and snorkel that always went in wrong direction so I tasted the salty sea water, I managed to do that. Of course, I could only float well with the hands of Rizal, our boat captain and Jeff, my dear boyfriend around…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;It was beautiful. I swam with the fish below, with the living corals… that later also wounded my knees. Ouch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/lbk-gt6.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/lbk-gt6.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;me and wooden boats, on the crystal clear water...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/lbk-gt-abrasi2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/lbk-gt-abrasi2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the northern beach of Gili Trawangan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/lbk-gt-11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/lbk-gt-11.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;no car, no motor! so here we are, with our Cidomo...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/lbk-gt-coral1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/lbk-gt-coral1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;coral...coral..coral..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/lbk-gt19.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/lbk-gt19.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We didn’t stay longer to witness the famous all night beach parties, nor visiting the third island, Gili Air. But I guess am a lucky girl.&lt;br /&gt;I witnessed another beauty of the earth…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115305722621720246?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115305722621720246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115305722621720246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115305722621720246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115305722621720246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-cant-swim-but-i-did-it.html' title='I Can&apos;t Swim, But I Did It! :-)'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115219994402229924</id><published>2006-07-06T21:08:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T18:42:08.746+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jalan-Jalan Lagi...</title><content type='html'>Liburan kali ini aku kembali belajar tentang negara kita tercinta. Thanks to my &lt;em&gt;hubby wanna be&lt;/em&gt;, yang mau-maunya travelling dengan segala cara, mulai naik bis antar kota yang udah reot, ferry yang telatnya amit-amit sampai perahu kayu tanpa atap, atau lari-lari di tanjakan sekitar Malimbu Lombok saat aku gak kuat tancap gas dengan motor sewaanku. Dengan begitu aku melihat sisi lain Indonesiaku.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dalam tiga minggu aku ada di Jakarta, Semarang, Klaten, Jogja, Solo, sebagian Bali dan sebagian Lombok. Sekarang sih baru terasa pegel-pegelnya, tapi aku beruntung banget, bisa menemukan banyak pengalaman baru.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pertama, aku nggak menyangka kalau upaya fundraising dari karyawan Disneyland dan teman-teman kami di Perancis buat korban gempa mendapat sambutan hangat. Yang paling mengharukan adalah sampai-sampai anak-anak karyawan Disney ikut-ikutan nitip sebagian uang saku mereka ke orangtuanya, dengan pesan, "tolong belikan mainan atau alat-alat sekolah buat teman-temanku di Indonesia..." Mau tahu, berapa umur donatur termuda di "&lt;em&gt;friends for java&lt;/em&gt;" network?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umurnya 3 tahun. Namanya Arthur. Aku bertemu dengannya saat belanja di commercial centre Val d'Europe April lalu. Dia pemalu, tapi saat mamanya bercerita tentang anak-anak yang kehilangan rumah, dia ikut sedih dan menitipkan 60 sen buat project persahabatan ini...&lt;br /&gt;Nah, sementara donatur tertua adalah Mamie, nenek Jeff dari pihak Papa. Umurnya sudah 94 tahun. Heuuu...umur 94 nanti kita masih bisa beramal gak ya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kedua, Minggu lalu saat teman-teman &lt;em&gt;psychological healing &lt;/em&gt;dari PMI berbaik hati memberikan kesempatan buat melihat kegiatan mereka di kecamatan Wedi, Klaten, aku baru tersadar kalau ternyata aku lebih mengenal tanah kelahiran ayahku sekarang, dibandingkan saat semua bangunan masih berdiri tegak dan utuh.&lt;br /&gt;Sekarang aku bisa bercerita, "itu dulunya SD Baturan 1 dan 2", atau, "itu dulunya balai desa"... setelah semua runtuh dan lebur bersama tanah yang mengering di kemarau ini.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ada satu perasaan yang menyesak setiap kali aku datang ke daerah bencana: Rasanya apapun yang kita bawa tak pernah terasa cukup. Melihat rumah yang masih rubuh, melihat bekas-bekas jahitan di luka-luka para pengungsi, melihat anak-anak yang belajar dan bermain di bawah tenda... Rasanya aku ingin bisa membuat semuanya utuh seperti semula.&lt;br /&gt;Maafkan kalau ini terdengar naif, tapi betul-betul, di saat-saat pemandangan itu terpampang di pelupuk mata, saat tanganku mampu meraba rekahan dinding yang terpuruk di bumi, sungguh aku ingin jadi manusia &lt;em&gt;super power...&lt;strong&gt;I wish at least I was Bill Gates&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;... not in the side of having Microsoft, but more to be with his foundation, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Juga saat melihat tenda-tenda pengungsi Merapi. Sedihnya membayangkan perasaan was-was para penduduk di sana selama lebih dari sebulan ini. Siap mengungsi di sore hari, harap-harap cemas, berdoa biar tanah dan rumah nggak hancur dilalap sang wedhus gembel saat harus tidur berdesakan di tenda yang dingin. Hiks. Betul-betul, negeri kita lagi prihatin...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ketiga, I found my old extacy back. Nikmatnya makan di dapur umum PMI, bermain bersama puluhan anak di desa-desa, ngobrol dan bobo bareng relawan lain di bawah tenda... kabur dari tenda dan pacaran diam-diam saat semua sudah tertidur.. (ups...) jalan bedua di sepanjang sawah desa jam 3 pagi cuma buat melihat Merapi yang melelehkan lavanya pelan-pelan dalam gelap, sampai melintasi batas larangan jalan menuju ke puncak Merapi, duduk berjam-jam di bekas lokasi penambangan pasir yang cuma 6 km jauhnya dari puncak, dan bermain dengan Nikon D-70nya Jeff untuk mengambil foto-foto lava pijar....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keempat, semakin banyak travelling sebagai turis biasa (bukan sebagai luxurious tourist yang diantar-jemput dimana-mana) bikin aku melihat banyaknya "lubang" sekaligus keunggulan di dunia pariwisata kita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku sedih dan malu saat menemukan banyaknya orang nggak jujur yang betul-betul menganggap turis (terutama turis asing) semata-mata sebagai sumber duit, bukan sebagai manusia biasa yang juga butuh liburan yang tenang dengan rasa aman. Aku sedih melihat mereka memakai alasan kemiskinan sebagai satu-satunya justifikasi mengapa mereka berusaha menarik untung sebanyak-banyaknya. Lucunya lagi, ada yang menawarkan komisi buat aku kalau aku bisa bikin Jeff beli paket yang mereka jual... &lt;em&gt;lah, who did they think I am&lt;/em&gt; ya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Banyak juga yang bilang, "mbak kan orang Indonesia, seharusnya mbak bantu kami dong, cari untung..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waduh. Padahal aku tuh orang yang paling ga bisa dan ngga suka nawar. Meski begitu, aku juga tahu dong, harga yang wajar dan nggak.... Orang asing, tanpa dikasih tau juga juga tahu duluan mana yang wajar dan nggak, bukankah ada Lonely Planet, Hatchette, dan buku-buku lain yang sejenis, yang menulis info lengkap dengan update situasi tahun demi tahun tentang apa yang ada di negara kita?&lt;br /&gt;Gimana mau berharap turis mo balik lagi kalau begitu caranya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kebayang dong, misalnya saja saat naik ferry kita (dan turis-turis asing lainnya) di-charge Rp. 150.000 per orang, sementara saat sudah di kapal aku ngobrol bareng penumpang lain dan menemukan kalau penumpang lokal (yang sudah tahu) cuma membayar Rp. 30.000 per orang! Ironisnya lagi, ada polisi yang melihat semua transaksi itu di Padangbai, and, he said nothing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kebayang dong, betenya saat petugas hotel bilang kalau dengan Rp. 300.000 private boat yang telah menyediakan alat-alat snorkeling akan menjemput di dermaga belakang hotel, mengantar kita dari Senggigi ke pulau-pulau cantik Gili Trawangan, Gili Meno dan Gili Air, tapi ternyata kita harus jalan 1 km ke pelabuhan umum, membayar lagi sewa alat-alat snorkel, bahkan perahu pun nggak menyediakan life jacket sehingga kita harus sewa lagi.... dan selalu begitu, semua tidak dibicarakan di awal, tapi saat kita sudah dalam perjalanan, seperti jebakan. Dan hampir tiap hari aku menemukan hal-hal seperti itu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Semua orang di sekitar hotel selalu memaksa kita naik travel service dengan embel-embel "sama kok, kaya naik taxi." Kenyataannya, sampai Selaparang aja mereka minta 50 ribu, padahal saat pergi bareng temanku, Lia, sampai ke Cakra (yang jauh lebih jauh dari Senggigi-Selaparang), argo taxi kita cuma menunjukkan angka 40 ribu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not about the money. It's about the &lt;strong&gt;honesty&lt;/strong&gt;. Ini juga masalah &lt;strong&gt;etika mengelola sebuah tempat dengan objek wisata potensial&lt;/strong&gt;. Gimana kita mau merasa nyaman kalau kita tahu bahwa orang-orang di sekitar kita ngga jujur? Apalagi ditambah mereka memaksakan apa yang mereka mau, dan bukan apa yang kita mau.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meski begitu, banyak foto indah yang berhasil kita ambil dari bumi Lombok yang cantik ini. I'll put it in pretty places page, tapi dalam seminggu lagi mungkin. Koneksi internetnya lagi payah nih...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sejauh ini, Jogja adalah tempat yang kutemui PALING profesional dalam menjamin kenyamanan turis. Nggak cuma staf di hotel berbintang, tapi sampai ke tukang-tukang becak dan para pedagang di Beringharjo membuat kami merasa nyaman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mungkinkah daerah-daerah selain Jogja butuh pendidikan tentang etika pariwisata?&lt;br /&gt;Ternyata negeri kita tak cuma kurang berpromosi, tapi juga tak sanggup membuat orang ingin kembali ke bumi yang indah ini...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just to think. Maybe not too hard.&lt;br /&gt;How can we start to overcome this problem?&lt;br /&gt;Gimana caranya membuat para pendatang ini merindukan Indonesia?&lt;br /&gt;Bagaimana caranya bikin mereka jadi pengunjung fanatik yang selalu ingin kembali ke Indonesia, tanpa takut ditipu orang, tanpa takut bom, tanpa takut dikerjai?&lt;br /&gt;Hm... hope it's not too late to change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115219994402229924?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115219994402229924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115219994402229924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115219994402229924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115219994402229924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/jalan-jalan-lagi.html' title='Jalan-Jalan Lagi...'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-115202987951338546</id><published>2006-07-04T20:52:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T23:17:59.586+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Have I Been...</title><content type='html'>It's been oh-so long time not to write. Even just to check my blog and read the comments, the internet connection around me are fast enough to prevent me for finding blank pages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you very much for all comments and messages...  it's also a big surprise to find my favorite french teacher, Beatrice,  drop a message in my shoutbox! Merci beaucoup, Beatrice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where have I been so far...&lt;br /&gt;Well, right after arriving at Sukarno-Hatta International Airport at the beginning of May, I fought some bad guys who tried to catch Indonesian Labours coming back from Abu Dhabi... I think it was my biggest fight in public space. I was very angry to see how they ran after 5 Indonesian workers, took control on their trolley and tried to fool those girls to follow them to "special door" for Indonesian labours, where they would be asked for money for nothing but horrible transport service by bus to central java and more money to  have their meal on the way, and more money for every other little things...&lt;br /&gt;Those girls were frightened. For them coming back to Indonesia is like a scary war to win, with too many bad guys welcoming them at the airport. And none powerful has ever overcame their problem. At that day, in front of my eyes, I saw illegal porters asked for Rp. 50.000 from each person just to carry their trolley from the ground to the first floor of the airport...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just the first day back, and it's already so dramatic.&lt;br /&gt;Another story follows. Soon, of course.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-115202987951338546?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115202987951338546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=115202987951338546' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115202987951338546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/115202987951338546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/where-have-i-been.html' title='Where Have I Been...'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114917024451081213</id><published>2006-06-01T20:33:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-06-01T20:57:24.546+07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day in Gantiwarno</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/Save.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the pictures of the landscape. Notes for pictures clockwise:&lt;br /&gt;1. The hills and ricefields. Klaten is a beautiful place with this typical view of hills and green lanscapes. Before the disaster, under the hills you could see many houses, but now there are only ruins.&lt;br /&gt;2. The main road towards the districts of Gantiwarno and Wedi cracks due to the earthquake. The little girl sitting near the wall was a refugee who was on the way back from donation center. She was taking a rest after a long walk with heavy bags filled with foods and fresh water. The ruin next to her was a little house that collapsed during the earthquake.&lt;br /&gt;3. The neighbourhood. This is the picture taken from the front yard of my grandmother's house. Even my motorbike couln't pass on the road. It was full of collapsed brick wall. See also the houses behind the trees. All fell down...&lt;br /&gt;4. This ruin was two elementary schools and a kindergarten. Children couldn't go to school, they don't know until when.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;27 May 2006, 05:56 a.m., Western Indonesia Time (GMT+7)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;The earthquake in 5.9 Richter scale shocked three provinces in Java: Central Java, Yogyakarta and East Java.&lt;br /&gt;The earthquake already took 5,196 lives, injured nearly 30,000 people and destroyed more than 200,000 houses and public facilities. (www.mediaindonesia-online.com, 29 May 29, 2006)&lt;br /&gt;One of the most severed towns is Klaten, my father’s hometown. It is the 3rd town with most victims (685 died) and 75,000 people lost their homes. Most of the victims of the disaster are now homeless, with minimum health services, minimum food and clothes. The roads to go to disaster area are split by the tectonic cracks. The condition is worsened by the lower popularity, poorer access and less health services compared to the other severed area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114917024451081213?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114917024451081213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114917024451081213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114917024451081213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114917024451081213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/06/day-in-gantiwarno.html' title='A Day in Gantiwarno'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114603755335761844</id><published>2006-04-26T14:02:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-26T17:21:43.890+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aku Orang Indonesia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Banyak yang berpikir kalau aku telah jatuh cinta pada peradaban di luar tanah kelahiranku. Tidak, tidak sepenuhnya begitu. Ketika aku di sini, atau di negara lain aku selalu berpikir, kenapa ya, Indonesia nggak bisa begini, nggak bisa begitu, dan &lt;em&gt;gimana &lt;/em&gt;ya, caranya biar Indonesia bisa begini atau begitu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sesungguhnya, sejak sepuluh tahun yang lalu, dalam perjalanan pertamaku, aku telah menyadari bahwa tinggal di luar negeri membuatku lebih mencintai tanah kelahiranku. Tinggal di belahan bumi yang lain membuatku ingin melihat bumi Indonesiaku jadi lebih baik dari waktu ke waktu. Aku selalu ingin pulang dan berharap bisa melakukan sesuatu. Banyak hal yang membuatku merasa begitu...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di bumi eks-kolonialis ini kadang aku masih bertemu dengan sosok-sosok rasis yang berpikir bahwa manusia yang dilahirkan dengan kulit berwarna tak sebaik manusia berkulit putih. Aku bertemu dengan manusia-manusia ini di banyak kesempatan; dalam acara makan malam, di kereta, bahkan di ruang kelasku. Tak ada hal manis yang mereka sampaikan tentang negara kita, bahkan dari cara mereka memandang atau memperlakukanku, terasa benar bahwa mereka melihatku dengan "berbeda".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seorang rasis di kelasku bahkan tak pernah menunjukkan sikap yang menyenangkan terhadap siapapun yang "berwarna". Saat dia harus bekerjasama dalam kelompok denganku, dengan seorang teman dari Peru keturunan Indian, atau dengan seorang warga Amerika Serikat keturunan Vietnam, dia tak pernah mau mendengarkan apapun yang kami katakan. Sialnya, dia bercita-cita jadi diplomat, atau politisi kenamaan!!! &lt;em&gt;Waks&lt;/em&gt;. Seperti apa ya, nantinya, "kebijakan" yang dia buat? Pasti tidak akan bijak sama sekali untuk seluruh warga negaranya. Bukankah tidak mungkin, dalam suatu negara semua orang memiliki "warna" yang sama?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masih banyak yang berpikir bahwa negara kita tak mungkin memiliki teknologi yang lebih maju, atau memiliki apapun yang lebih dari apa yang mereka miliki saat ini, termasuk dalam hal jumlah &lt;em&gt;channel &lt;/em&gt;TV yang bisa diakses oleh publik. Banyak orang Perancis yang kukenal terlihat agak terganggu saat tahu bahwa Indonesia punya lebih banyak channel TV untuk umum daripada Perancis. Wah, padahal aku belum sempat cerita soal jumlah infotainment di negara kita...hehehe..bisa pingsan mereka! (btw, banyaknya infotainment di Indonesia patut dibanggakan ngga sih? :-p)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku sering geram dan sedih saat aku bertemu dengan orang-orang itu. Geram karena stigma yang mereka pasang tentang kita, dan sedih karena kenyataannya kita memang tak punya terlalu banyak hal yang bisa dibanggakan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/party3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/party3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;di kelas baruku memang lebih banyak yang putih daripada yang berwarna...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Masih banyak sekali orang-orang di Eropa yang tak tahu, dimana letak Indonesia, apalagi nama ibukotanya. Yang mereka tahu, Indonesia identik dengan korupsi besar-besaran, termasuk korupsi dana bantuan yang "mereka" berikan; termasuk bantuan untuk korban Tsunami. Hum, yang ini memang bikin muak dan malu. Indonesia identik dengan bom dan anarki. Indonesia identik dengan kemiskinan dan kesenjangan sosial... Soal terkenalnya kesenjangan sosial di Indonesia, aku punya cerita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ada seorang teman sekelasku yang ramah sekali. Dia perempuan asal Yunani, yang di negaranya memiliki sebuah hotel berbintang empat. Ngga heran kalau dia sudah berkunjung ke banyak negara, salah satunya Indonesia. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Suatu hari kami duduk bersama di cafetaria, dan dia berkata. &lt;em&gt;"J'ai visité ton pay. C'est trés jolie." &lt;/em&gt;Aku pernah mengunjungi negaramu. Negara yang sangat indah. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Aku tersenyum lebar mendengar komentarnya. Aku senang sekali.&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Indonésie est un pay tres interessant aussi&lt;/em&gt;." Indonesia juga negara yang sangat menarik. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hum, senyumku makin lebar, penuh kebanggaan.&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Pourquoi, tu pense?&lt;/em&gt;" Kenapa menurutmu (Indonesia adalah negara yang menarik)? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Di kepalaku, aku berpikir dia akan bicara tentang kebudayaan kita yang beragam. Dan ya, dia bicara tentang "budaya" di negara kita.&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;C'est tres interessant parce qu'il y a une grande différence dans la classe sociale. Les riches sont tres riches, et le pouvres sont tres pouvres...&lt;/em&gt;" Indonesia sangat menarik karena adanya perbedaan yang besar dalam kelas sosialnya. Yang kaya sangat kaya, dan yang miskin sangat miskin..." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Gubrak. Wajahku serasa ditampar bolak-balik, sementara wajah Carita, temanku itu tetap penuh senyum tak berdosa. Dia benar. Dan aku, sekali lagi, sedih sekali. Kebenaran memang seringkali terasa pahit di hati...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saat aku jauh dari Indonesia aku selalu mengikuti berbagai perkembangan di bumi kelahiranku. Kasus korupsi masih terus ada. Euh, &lt;em&gt;by the way busway&lt;/em&gt;, tahukan kalian, kalau bahkan di buku panduan perjalanan terbitan Hachette ada bagian khusus tentang bagaimana korupsi merajalela di negara kita? Aku menemukan buku terbitan tahun 1996 ini di &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/shop-but-not-til-you-drop.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;pasar barang bekas di Gournay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;. Yang lebih pedih lagi, ada trik untuk para wisatawan asing yang berurusan dengan polisi di jalan. Pertama-tama, tunjukkan wajah tak berdosa. Kedua, teruslah bicara dalam bahasamu. Kalau hal ini tidak membuat polisi yang menghentikanmu menyerah, tawarkan uang. Biasanya dengan Rp. 10,000,- (jangan kaget dengan jumlah ini, sekali lagi, buku itu diterbitkan tahun 1996!).... kalian (para wisatawan) bisa bebas dari segala hukuman. Hal ini dianggap penting untuk diketahui oleh para wisatawan karena "penyelesaian di jalan" biasanya jauh lebih mudah daripada di pengadilan...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RUU APP juga jadi pertanyaan di sini. Perda tentang ciuman lima menit &lt;em&gt;made in &lt;/em&gt;Tangerang masuk di Oddly Enough di berbagai media Eropa. Sekali lagi bangsa kita dianggap melakukan hal "aneh". Draft RUU APP membuat kebanyakan perempuan terlihat sebagai "mahluk porno". Atau tentang ciuman lima menit, atau tentang razia perempuan yang disangka pelacur. &lt;em&gt;Please &lt;/em&gt;deh... semua orang juga tahu bahwa banyak PSK yang beroperasi di hotel berbintang dan ngga pernah tersentuh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Semua orang juga tahu bahwa lewat internet kita bisa dapat gambaran tentang seks yang indah maupun yang tidak indah, yang mendidik ataupun tidak mendidik. Dengan represi ke"tabu"an yang ada di sekitar kita, hal ini bisa jadi membuat banyak orang nantinya tambah penasaran dengan cara yang tidak indah. &lt;em&gt;Hellooouuuuu.... &lt;/em&gt;apa kabar para pembuat peraturan? Sudahkah hal-hal seperti ini dipikirkan? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sudahkah dibayangkan bahwa besarnya represi seringkali memperbesar pula rasa penasaran dan penolakan terhadapnya? Apakah tidak lebih baik bila kami, warga negara Indonesia belajar tentang kesehatan reproduksi yang benar dan belajar tentang penghargaan terhadap gender yang ada? Biarlah kami belajar berpikir dan mengelola alam pikir, bukan hanya menghafalkan boleh dan tidak boleh, tapi juga memahami boleh dan tidak boleh secara rasional.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yang kami butuhkan untuk berangkat menuju bangsa yang dikenal sebagai bangsa yang beradab adalah kail untuk menangkap kehidupan yang lebih baik. Jaring pengaman sosial yang sesungguhnya bukanlah roti dan komedi. &lt;em&gt;C'est passé&lt;/em&gt;. Sudah lewat &lt;em&gt;atuh&lt;/em&gt;, sejak ratusan tahun yang lalu. Manusia ber-evolusi dan be-revolusi. Bukan hanya tinggi badan kita yang bertambah, tapi juga tingkat intelektualitas kita telah berbeda.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memikirkan sistem pendidikan yang layak, yang mendidik keahlian berpikir logis &lt;strong&gt;dari berbagai sisi&lt;/strong&gt;, bukan yang mendidik kita untuk menghafalkan terasa lebih penting daripada semata-mata mengurusi apa yang disebut sebagai "moral". Kalau saja pendidikan yang baik itu tersampaikan ke seluruh pelosok negeri, pasti akan lebih banyak pemikir handal di bumi kita. Seandainya saja perlindungan dan rasa aman, kepercayaaan, perlindungan para saksi dan hukuman yang setimpal benar-benar ada, maka bandit-bandit kemaksiatan akan berpikir seribu kali sebelum beroperasi. Saat ini terjadi, negara tak perlu lagi bersusah payah menciptakan aturan yang berusaha menegakkan "moral" seperti saat ini. &lt;em&gt;Ing ngarsa sung tuladha&lt;/em&gt;. Di depan memberi contoh. Suka atau tidak, itulah sistematika sederhana yang secara alami masih berlaku dalam pembentukan perilaku suatu bangsa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kulitku memang berwarna. Aku memang orang Indonesia. Aku telah menapakkan kaki di belahan bumi yang berbeda. Aku telah menanggung cap "bangsa yang bodoh" dan "bangsa yang tidak bisa dipercaya dan biadab (salah satunya karena 'memakan' dana bantuan kemanusiaan)". Mungkin tidak cuma aku, tapi juga teman-teman kulit berwarna lain pernah merasakan cap ini. Sungguh, aku berharap, negara tak akan berbuat lebih banyak untuk membuat Indonesia terlihat semakin bodoh lagi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Sisi baiknya adalah, secara perseorangan atau berkelompok, kita jadi berusaha sebaik mungkin untuk menunjukkan bahwa kita tak seburuk yang mereka sangka. Selalu ada cahaya di balik awan kelabu. Setidaknya, kita jadi berharap Indonesia akan lebih baik di lain waktu, dan harapan menumbuhkan gerakan untuk membuatnya nyata. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Suatu hari nanti semoga orang Indonesia bisa berkata dengan bangga, Viva kosmetika Indonesia!... ups, maksudku, &lt;strong&gt;Viva Indonesia&lt;/strong&gt;! :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114603755335761844?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114603755335761844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114603755335761844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114603755335761844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114603755335761844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/aku-orang-indonesia.html' title='Aku Orang Indonesia'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114595461381797016</id><published>2006-04-25T15:09:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-25T16:08:03.650+07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Fall in Love to The Little Prince</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;One of my French teachers in Indonesia said that once I have enough comprehension in French, I must read a marvelous work of &lt;a href="http://www.saint-exupery.org/"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Antoine de Saint-Exupéry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.angelfire.com/hi/littleprince/frames.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;Le Petit Prince&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt; . I&lt;/span&gt;n English, he is called as The Little Prince. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Understanding The Little Prince was my biggest motivation in my early days in France. I guess I fell in love with him long before I met him. So, I was always thinking of making it the first &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;book written in french that I read completely, and I did. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I had those book on my dining table on a Palm Sunday from Mr. and Mrs. Bertholy, the parents of the family where I stay now. I got the English and French version, which then gave me deeper comprehension on the story. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The book looks simple, with a simple drawing of the little prince figure at the cover. Yet, the words there strucked my mind deeply. I do fall in love to this book due all its simplicity. St. Exupéry didn't use any sophisticated words in it. Yet, he made it so sweet and innocent. I am a bit ashamed then, to realize that once I've ever thought that if I would like to create a memorable book, I should be precisely using those sophistication to make my reader feels impressed. I guess I felt that way after I read Supernova by Dee... But now, this Little Prince is such an enlightement for me. It looks like he convey a message, "&lt;strong&gt;you can go deeper in simplicity!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He digged into the ideas of relationships, love, tamed heart and the essence of the actions done by human. How he positioned this Little Prince makes you get involved into his compassion on him, the compassion of the Little Prince and the little rose, the way they protect the ones that they love...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;One of my favorite is "it is only with one's heart that one see clearly. What is essential is invisible to the eye".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Also, about friendship. You, who feels lonely in your busy days might laugh bitterly on it; "Man have no more time to understand anything. They buy ready-made things in the shops. But since there are no shops where you can buy friends, men no longer have any friends." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You really must &lt;a href="http://www.angelfire.com/hi/littleprince/frames.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;read all chapters&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; then you get the sense of it. Then, you'll understand why I fall in love to the Little Prince...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114595461381797016?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114595461381797016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114595461381797016' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114595461381797016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114595461381797016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/i-fall-in-love-to-little-prince.html' title='I Fall in Love to The Little Prince'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114534711840787944</id><published>2006-04-18T13:47:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T14:26:09.610+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Champagne Cuma dari Champagne</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kalau ada yang bilang bahwa kita tidak mungkin &lt;em&gt;survive &lt;/em&gt;hidup di Perancis tanpa minum &lt;em&gt;wine&lt;/em&gt;, aku bisa bilang kalau pernyataan itu tidak benar. Memang agak sulit untuk selalu menolak tawaran mencicipi &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;di negara ini. Selain karena Perancis memang gudangnya &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;berkualitas, &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;juga sudah jadi bagian kebudayaan yang menyatu dengan kehidupan sehari-hari orang Perancis. &lt;em&gt;Wine &lt;/em&gt;telah menjadi bagian yang menyatu dengan acara makan sehari-hari atau acara penting seperti pesta dan pernikahan. Meski demikian, kalau kita bilang baik-baik bahwa kita tidak minum alkohol, mereka tidak akan memaksa kok. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dan itulah yang aku lakukan selama aku tinggal di sini. Meski tidak minum &lt;em&gt;wine&lt;/em&gt;, aku tetap punya minat besar untuk belajar lebih banyak tentangnya. Aku beruntung karena papa Jeff adalah kolektor &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;yang cukup serius. Hari Sabtu yang lalu aku mendapat kursus intensif seputar &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;langsung dari beliau dari jam 8 sampai jam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; 12 malam. Kursus itu berlangsung di ruang makan dan di bawah tanah. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/wine%20lesson.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/wine%20lesson.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lho &lt;/em&gt;kok di bawah tanah? Iya, ini karena di bawah tanah, tepatnya di bawah garasi rumah ini terdapat gudang penyimpanan &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;yang dalam bahasa Perancis disebut sebagai &lt;em&gt;"cave" &lt;/em&gt;dan dalam bahasa Inggris disebut sebagai &lt;em&gt;"cellar"&lt;/em&gt;. Di dalam &lt;em&gt;cave &lt;/em&gt;yang dibangun limebelas tahun yang lalu ini terdapat rak-rak penyimpanan yang berisi lebih dari duaratus botol &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;dan &lt;em&gt;champagne&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kenapa &lt;em&gt;cave &lt;/em&gt;selalu berada di bawah tanah? Ini karena temperatur di bawah tanah selalu stabil. &lt;em&gt;Wine &lt;/em&gt;bisa terjaga dengan baik, atau bahkan meningkat kualitasnya bila tersimpan dalam udara yang sejuk, antara 10°-15°C. "Kursus"ku berawal dari pertanyaanku tentang berapa lama &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;yang telah dibuka bisa bertahan. Siang itu kami merayakan ulang tahun mama Jeff, dan ada dua botol &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;yang telah dibuka tapi masih tersisa. Pertanyaanku merambat ke dari mana &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;itu berasal, dan apa yang membuatnya berbeda. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Akhirnya, papa Jeff mulai menjelaskan cara membaca label di botol wine dan mengambil atlas &lt;em&gt;french wine &lt;/em&gt;untuk menjelaskan lokasi-lokasi pembuatan &lt;em&gt;wine&lt;/em&gt;. Kita bisa mengenali asal &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;dari bentuk botolnya. &lt;em&gt;Wine &lt;/em&gt;dari Bordeaux dikemas dalam botol yang gemuk dengan leher yang kecil dan pendek, sementara botol &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;dari Bourgogne berbentuk lebih langsing, mirip terompet dengan leher yang lebih panjang. &lt;em&gt;Wine &lt;/em&gt;dari Alsace dikemas dalam botol yang (menurutku sih...) lebih cantik, dengan bentuk yang langsing dan tinggi. &lt;em&gt;Wine &lt;/em&gt;dari Jura berbeda lagi. Botolnya lebih gemuk dan pendek dari wine asal Bordeaux. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kita juga bisa tahu banyak hal hanya dari membaca label yang ditempel di botol &lt;em&gt;wine&lt;/em&gt;. Di label itu ada tahun yang tertera, yang menandakan tahun dimana buah anggur yang dipakai untuk membuat wine itu dipetik. Lokasi kebun anggur juga penting untuk dicantumkan, karena pecinta wine sejati tahu dimana buah anggur berkualitas ditanam. Keterangan itu masih ditambah lagi dengan &lt;em&gt;grand cru&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;premiere cru &lt;/em&gt;atau &lt;em&gt;deuxieme cru&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;em&gt;Grand cru &lt;/em&gt;adalah petikan anggur kualitas tertinggi, yang dikenal akan menghasilkan wine berkualitas tertinggi pula. &lt;em&gt;Premiere &lt;/em&gt;dan &lt;em&gt;deuxieme &lt;/em&gt;masing-masing menyusul sebagai kualitas petikan anggur di bawahnya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Keterangan ini penting, selain untuk gengsi saat menyajikan atau menghadiahkan sebotol &lt;em&gt;wine&lt;/em&gt;, kualitas ini juga penting saat kita menyimpan &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;untuk investasi. &lt;em&gt;Wine &lt;/em&gt;yang terbuat dari anggur &lt;em&gt;grand cru &lt;/em&gt;tentu memiliki nilai tertinggi, dan nilai ini akan terus meningkat seiring dengan bertambahnya usia penyimpanan &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;tersebut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/wine%20label.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/wine%20label.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Nama varietas buah anggur yang dipakai untuk membuat &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;itu juga biasanya tertera, kecuali untuk sebagian besar &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;asal Bordeaux, kita tidak akan menemukan nama varietas anggur yang dipakai. Ini karena di Bordeaux biasanya para pembuat wine mencampur lebih dari satu jenis buah anggur sebagai bahan bakunya. Ada juga nama &lt;em&gt;chateau &lt;/em&gt;tempat buah anggur itu diproses menjadi &lt;em&gt;wine&lt;/em&gt;, nama pihak yang mengkontrol kualitas anggur, dimana &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;tersebut dikemas dalam botol, berapa kadar alkohol yang terkandung dan berapa volume &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;yang ada di dalam sebuah botol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ada lagi yang menarik dari label &lt;em&gt;wine&lt;/em&gt;, yaitu keterangan tentang rasa dan aroma &lt;em&gt;wine&lt;/em&gt;. Ada &lt;em&gt;sec &lt;/em&gt;atau "kering", ada &lt;em&gt;demi sec &lt;/em&gt;atau "setengah kering". Ada pula keterangan tentang aromanya, yang kadang juga disebut sebagai &lt;em&gt;bouquet &lt;/em&gt;atau campuran aroma yang bisa didapat dari suatu jenis &lt;em&gt;wine&lt;/em&gt;. Meski cuma dibuat dari buah anggur, proses fermentasi, bakteri, suhu dan cara penyimpanan &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;bisa membuat &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;beraroma &lt;em&gt;foret &lt;/em&gt;atau hutan, beraroma rumput liar, atau buah-buahan, bahkan beraroma seperti pisang! Keterangan tentang aroma spesifik ini membuat orang tertarik mencicipinya. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ini juga yang membuat acara &lt;em&gt;wine degustation &lt;/em&gt;atau acara mencicipi wine jadi menarik. Tapi jangan salah sangka, meski dalam acara itu ada banyak jenis &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;yang dicicipi, seorang &lt;em&gt;degustateur &lt;/em&gt;atau pencicip tidak akan mabuk. Pasalnya, saat mencicipi kita tidak diperkenankan meminumnya. Dalam prosesi &lt;em&gt;wine degustation &lt;/em&gt;kita cuma memutar-mutar gelas di bawah hidung kita untuk merasakan aromanya, mencecapnya, membiarkan syaraf-syaraf perasa di lidah kita mengenali rasa &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;itu, lalu membuangnya dan beralih ke jenis &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;yang lain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malam itu aku juga jadi tahu bahwa sebetulnya yang boleh disebut sebagai &lt;em&gt;Champagne &lt;/em&gt;adalah &lt;em&gt;sparkling wine &lt;/em&gt;yang berasal dari wilayah &lt;em&gt;Champagne&lt;/em&gt;. Yang membuat &lt;em&gt;Champagne &lt;/em&gt;berbeda dari jenis &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;yang lain adalah rasanya yang manis dan gelembung udara cantik yang muncul dan naik ke permukaan saat &lt;em&gt;Champagne &lt;/em&gt;dituang ke dalam gelas. Gelembung udara yang sempurna inilah yang tidak dimiliki jenis &lt;em&gt;white wine &lt;/em&gt;lainnya. Saat ini di Perancis telah ada aturan yang melarang &lt;em&gt;white wine &lt;/em&gt;bergelembung udara yang berasal dari daerah selain &lt;em&gt;Champagne &lt;/em&gt;dilabeli sebagai &lt;em&gt;Champagne&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku juga mendapat sedikit pelajaran tentang buah anggur. Sebelumnya aku telah bicara tentang &lt;em&gt;grand cru &lt;/em&gt;dan &lt;em&gt;premiére cru&lt;/em&gt;. Nah, ternyata, sebuah kebun anggur bisa menghasilkan jenis buah anggur yang sama tapi dengan kualitas yang berbeda. Misalnya nih, di sebuah desa kita sama-sama menanam buah anggur dari varietas &lt;em&gt;pinot blanc&lt;/em&gt;. Ketinggian dan komposisi tanah yang berbeda sedikiiitttt... saja bisa membuat kebunku menghasilkan &lt;em&gt;grand cru&lt;/em&gt;, sementara kebunmu menghasilkan &lt;em&gt;deuxieme cru&lt;/em&gt;. Enakan di aku, sedihan di kamu..hehehehe... :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buah anggur yang dipakai juga berbeda-beda. Ada yang memproses &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;dari buah anggur segar, ada juga yang memproses &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;dari buah anggur yang sudah dikeringkan dengan cara digantung di langit-langit gudang. Yang lebih spesifik lagi, di Bourgogne ada pembuat &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;yang memilih untuk membuat &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;dari buah anggur yang dibusukkan di pohon. &lt;em&gt;Waduh&lt;/em&gt;, gimana lagi tuh? Ceritanya, sebetulnya anggur di Perancis pada umumnya sudah masak di bulan September. Tapi ada yang memilih untuk membiarkan anggur yang sudah masak itu tetap tergantung di pohon sampai...bulan November! Udara yang dingin dan stabil, sekitar 2°C dan kelembaban yang tinggi membuat anggur yang sudah masak itu semakin lama semakin tinggi kadar gulanya. Nah, inilah yang membuat anggur itu menjadi bahan baku yang sangat baik untuk membuat &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;berkualitas &lt;em&gt;superieur&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Proses penanaman dan pertumbuhan anggur yang sangat tergantung pada bersahabatnya alam, dan perfeksionisnya sistem pembuatan &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;diterapkan untuk menjaga kualitas &lt;em&gt;wine&lt;/em&gt;. Hal ini membuat bisnis &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;menjadi bisnis yang rentan terhadap berbagai perubahan alam. Ada tahun-tahun tertentu dimana suatu wilayah sama sekali tidak bisa memproduksi &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;karena kualitas buah anggur yang diproduksi tidak cukup baik gara-gara perubahan cuaca atau suhu udara. Para pembuat &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;tidak akan memaksakan untuk membuat &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;dari buah anggur asal-asalan. Mereka memilih untuk merugi daripada membuat &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;yang menghancurkan nama baik mereka sendiri. Inilah yang membuat banyak &lt;em&gt;brand wine &lt;/em&gt;bisa bertahan dan dipercaya sebagai &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;berkualitas selama ratusan tahun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suhu, volume udara yang ada dalam tong fermentasi dan jenis bakteri juga mempengaruhi proses fermentasi &lt;em&gt;wine&lt;/em&gt;. Makanya kita bisa menemukan &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;yang berwarna putih, merah, pink, sampai kuning! &lt;em&gt;Wine &lt;/em&gt;kuning atau &lt;em&gt;vine jaune &lt;/em&gt;adalah wine khas daerah Jura. Warnanya kuning, betul-betul kuning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nah, setelah belajar teori dasar tentang anggur, papa Jeff kemudian mengajakku ke &lt;em&gt;cave &lt;/em&gt;untuk ujian singkat. (Euhh... %)) Beliau mengeluarkan beberapa botol &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;dan memintaku menjelaskan dari mana mereka berasal berdasarkan bentuk botolnya, kemudian menjelaskan apa yang tertera di labelnya. Seru juga. Aku jadi semakin tahu bahwa kebanyakan &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;dikemas dalam volume 750 ml atau 75 cl per botolnya. Meski demikian, ada juga edisi khusus botol besar, yang berisi 2000 ml. Nah, khusus untuk &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;kuning dari Jura, di labelnya tertulis 63 cl. Kadar alkohol &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;yang tersimpan di koleksi papa Jeff berkisar antara 12 sampai 14 persen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lalu aku belajar tentang kekerasan tutup botol &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;untuk mengetahui &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;itu bisa disimpan lama atau tidak. &lt;em&gt;Wine &lt;/em&gt;berkualitas tinggi biasanya memiliki tutup botol yang keras. Botol-botol &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;disimpan dalam posisi terbaring untuk menjaga agar tutupnya tetap terbasahi oleh &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;sehingga tetap lembab dan mencengkeram rapat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku juga jadi tahu, bahwa tak semua jenis &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;bisa bertambah kualitasnya saat mereka disimpan lama. Ada &lt;em&gt;loh&lt;/em&gt;, yang malah berubah jadi cuka. Hal ini terjadi pada &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;yang hanya melalui proses fermentasi singkat. Misalnya, di bulan November 2005 kita sudah menemukan wine yang labelnya bertuliskan 2005, itu berarti bahwa buah anggur yang dipakai untuk pembuatannya dipetik pada bulan September dan melalui proses fermentasi selama sebulan saja. Wine ini disebut sebagai &lt;em&gt;young wine &lt;/em&gt;dan biasanya tidak bisa bertahan lebih dari satu tahun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selanjutnya, aku belajar tentang gelas dan &lt;em&gt;carafe &lt;/em&gt;atau botol kaca atau kristal yang benar untuk masing-masing jenis &lt;em&gt;wine&lt;/em&gt;. Gelas dan botol yang benar akan membuat rasa dan aroma sejati dari masing-masing &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;jadi benar-benar terasa. Aku juga belajar tentang tinggi dan diameter ideal gelas-gelas dan botol itu, cara memegangnya, dan bagaimana cara menyajikan &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;dengan cara yang elegan. Menarik sekali. Sayangnya sampai saat ini aku belum betul-betul tahu detail makanan dan wine yang menyertainya. Secara umum &lt;em&gt;sih &lt;/em&gt;biasanya Champagne hadir sebagai aperitif yang muncul di urutan pertama acara makan à la Perancis. Setelah itu &lt;em&gt;entrée &lt;/em&gt;atau hidangan pembuka akan muncul, disusul oleh &lt;em&gt;plat principal &lt;/em&gt;atau hidangan utama. &lt;em&gt;Plat principal&lt;/em&gt; yang terbuat dari daging sapi atau ayam ditemani oleh &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;merah, sementara &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;putih biasanya muncul bersama &lt;em&gt;plat principal &lt;/em&gt;yang terbuat dari ikan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bagiku, mempelajari sesuatu selalu baik. Seperti kata papa Jeff, "aku tahu, kamu ngga akan pernah tertarik untuk meminumnya...". Bagiku, pelajaran tentang &lt;em&gt;wine &lt;/em&gt;malam itu adalah pelajaran tentang sebuah kebudayaan. Bukan untuk melanggar apa yang kupercayai. *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114534711840787944?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114534711840787944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114534711840787944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114534711840787944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114534711840787944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/champagne-cuma-dari-champagne.html' title='Champagne Cuma dari Champagne'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114491667929345538</id><published>2006-04-13T15:09:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T15:30:26.490+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Padang Dafodil</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/dafodil2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/dafodil2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Bunga apa saja yang muncul di awal musim semi? Jawabannya bisa bermacam-macam: sakura, violet, bunga lonceng, semuanya mekar di hari-hari pertama musim yang indah ini. Saat pohon-pohon masih "tertidur" tanpa daun, bunga-bunga kecil ini sudah bermekaran. Semuanya cantik. Tapi buatku, bunga tercantik yang mekar di awal musim semi adalah &lt;strong&gt;Dafodil&lt;/strong&gt;. Dafodil sangat sederhana. Rumpunnya sekilas kelihatan seperti rumput biasa. Mereka tumbuh liar di padang rumput atau di daerah sekitar hutan. Bunganya yang kuning membuat hari-hari musim semi kelihatan semakin cerah, dan ini dia, padang Dafodil yang kutemukan di sekitar &lt;em&gt;Chateau Vaux le Vicompte&lt;/em&gt;, Seine sur Marne, Perancis... cantik kan?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/dafodil1.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/dafodil1.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114491667929345538?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114491667929345538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114491667929345538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114491667929345538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114491667929345538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/padang-dafodil.html' title='Padang Dafodil'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114490987462924932</id><published>2006-04-13T13:31:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T13:31:14.640+07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.haloscan.com/" title="HaloScan Commenting and Trackback" rel="tag"&gt;Haloscan&lt;/a&gt; commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114490987462924932?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114490987462924932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114490987462924932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114490987462924932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114490987462924932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/haloscan-commenting-and-trackback-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114483443032147494</id><published>2006-04-12T15:39:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-12T16:57:10.610+07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Emperor's Guest</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Of all cities in Indonesia, he falls in love to a girl from SEMARANG?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Dari semua kota yang ada di Indonesia, dia jatuh cinta pada perempuan dari SEMARANG?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Itu dalah kalimat yang disampaikan sepupu Jeff di Scotland, saat orangtua Jeff berkunjung beberapa waktu yang lalu. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Cinta memang aneh. Kita tak pernah tahu kapan dan dimana dia akan tumbuh, dan kepada siapa dia akan dijatuhkan. Dan ini, sedikit cerita tentang sejarah sebuah keluarga...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Kakek buyut mama Jeff berasal dari Jerman, namun kemudian mereka bermigrasi ke Inggris untuk mencari kehidupan yang lebih baik. Di Inggris keluarga ini pun berkembang lewat pernikahan demi pernikahan, sampai mereka memiliki beberapa nama keluarga yang berbeda.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Puluhan keturunan ini pun punya garis kehidupan yang berbeda. Orangtua mama Jeff bermigrasi ke Perancis, namun beberapa sepupu keluarga ini tetap tinggal di wilayah kerajaan Inggris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sepupu itu, yang begitu terkejut mendapati seorang Bertholy jatuh cinta pada perempuan Semarang, adalah bagian keluarga yang tinggal di Inggris saat perang dunia kedua pecah. Namanya Don Peacock. Dia menulis sebuah buku berjudul &lt;em&gt;"The Emperor's Guest" &lt;/em&gt;berdasarkan buku harian yang ditulisnya selama masa perang dunia kedua.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Buku itu dihadiahkan pada orangtua Jeff, dan orangtua Jeff meminjamkannya padaku untuk sedikit belajar tentang sejarah keluarga ini. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Don Peacock bergabung dengan RAF, angkatan udara Inggris, dan ditugaskan ke pangkalan militer Inggris di Seletar, Singapura, pada tahun 1942. Pada bulan Maret 1942 Jepang datang dan memporak porandakan pangkalan militer Inggris di sana. Nasib membawa Don Peacock ke Jawa, Indonesia, sebagai &lt;strong&gt;tawanan perang&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Kota pertama yang menampung para tawanan Inggris itu adalah Tasikmalaya, Surabaya, kemudian SEMARANG. Semarang adalah kota dimana Don Peacock merasakan penderitaan yang memuncak sebagai "The Emperor Guest" atau "Tamu Sang Kaisar". Istilah yang ironis, namun demikianlah cara Jepang menyebut mereka.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Di Semarang, Tamu Sang Kaisar tinggal di kamp yang lembab dan kotor, makan sehari sekali, menjalankan kerja paksa di bawah matahari tropis yang panas, didera penyakit dan kelaparan, untuk membangun proyek Semarang Aerodome, di wilayah yang disebut Don sebagai Kalibantan. Hari ini orang Semarang menyebutnya Kalibanteng. &lt;em&gt;Semarang Aerodome &lt;/em&gt;kini bernama Bandara Internasional Ahmad Yani Semarang. Saat membaca buku itu, aku merinding membayangkan seorang keluarga Jeff ikut membangun bandara tempatku mengawali berbagai perjalanan panjang dari kotaku... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Dalam bukunya, masa-masa sebagai tawanan di Semarang disebutnya sebagai &lt;em&gt;Down to Earth with The Moko Moko&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;Night of the Stink Beetles&lt;/em&gt;, dan &lt;em&gt;Guest of The Emperor&lt;/em&gt;. Tiga Bab ini bercerita tentang apa yang terjadi sepanjang bulan Juni 1942 sampai April 1943, dimana semuanya penuh penderitaan dan kekejaman perang. Di periode ini pula, RAF mengirimkan surat pada keluarga Peacock di Inggris yang menyatakan bahwa Don hilang dalam serangan tentara Jepang di Singapura....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Banyak siksaan yang datang pada para tawanan ini gara-gara kesalahpahaman komunikasi. Contohnya, saat tentara Jepang (yang disebut Don sebagai "Nips") menepuk bahunya, Don berpikir itu adalah isyarat untuk "pergi". Tapi ternyata, itu adalah isyarat untuk "mendekat". Tendangan, pukulan, sabetan gagang bayonet pun jadi makanan sehari-hari, ditengah suplai nasi goreng yang pas-pasan dan serangan malaria yang membuat banyak tawanan nyaris gila. Beberapa di antaranya malah mulai berkhayal tentang Snow White dan tujuh kurcacinya yang datang dengan kapal selam di laut Jawa dengan misi menyelamatkan mereka...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Uniknya, di tengah cerita miris tentang penderitaan itu Don masih bisa bercerita tentang indahnya pagi di Semarang. Kata Don, di tahun itu pagi di Semarang kadang berkabut, dan saat matahari menguapkannya, mereka bisa melihat indahnya gunung Ungaran, Prahu, Sindoro dan Sumbing.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"They appeared just up to the road, but as the day progressed they would gradually clothe themselves in an ever-thickening veil of cloud and then finally vanish altogether..." &lt;/em&gt;(Peacock, 1989:37).&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Bayangkan, seorang tawanan bisa menggambarkan keindahan seperti itu dalam buku hariannya...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Setelah Jawa, Nips mengirim mereka ke Haruku, Maluku Selatan, lalu Makasura. Perjalanan di Indonesia berakhir pada bulan Januari 1945, saat mereka dikembalikan ke Singapura pada bulan yang sama. Don tidak menceritakan secara detil berapa tentara RAF yang selamat melewati masa sebagai tamu sang Kaisar dan bisa kembali ke Inggris pada bulan September 1945. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tentu sulit bagi Don untuk membayangkan kemungkinan jatuh cinta pada perempuan asal Semarang, setelah semua pengalaman yang dijalaninya. Meski demikian, pada tahun 1977 Don dan beberapa eks tamu Kaisar kembali ke Indonesia, ke tempat dimana mereka dulu bekerja dan tinggal, dalam sebuah perjalanan napak tilas yang diadakan oleh ikatan veteran perang Inggris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Komentar keluarga Peacock selanjutnya tentang Jeff yang jatuh cinta pada aku, perempuan asal Semarang adalah, "mungkin cerita cinta anak kalian adalah cara yang indah untuk melupakan kesedihan di masa lalu dan melihat Semarang sebagai tempat yang lebih indah dalam sejarah keluarga kita..." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114483443032147494?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114483443032147494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114483443032147494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114483443032147494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114483443032147494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/emperors-guest.html' title='The Emperor&apos;s Guest'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114474729690509619</id><published>2006-04-11T16:02:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T16:24:31.283+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beautiful Eiffel</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eiffel memang cantik. Aku ngga pernah bosan mampir ke Trocadéro buat sekedar duduk dan memandangnya, atau naik dan melihat indahnya Paris dari atas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Eiffel is just georgeous. I never hesitate to always come back to Trocadéro to just sit and stare on it, or climbing up and see beautiful Paris from above. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Hari Jumat lalu aku kembali ke sana. Di musim semi seperti ini kita bisa puas bermain-main dengan kamera dan mendapat foto-foto cantik dari berbagai sudut... seperti ini: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I went back there last Friday. In spring time like this we can satisfy ourself with beautiful pictures that we take from different angle, just like this: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/meiffel2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/meiffel2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/meiffel1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC_7351.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;green green grass of Trocadéro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Wanna see more? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Soon I will put more beautiful photographs of Eiffel on &lt;u&gt;pretty places&lt;/u&gt; page. Just click the link from this page!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114474729690509619?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114474729690509619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114474729690509619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114474729690509619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114474729690509619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/beautiful-eiffel.html' title='Beautiful Eiffel'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114466436587617947</id><published>2006-04-10T17:03:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-11T15:58:56.113+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Updated Look of My Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Last week I was so deep into arranging my blog. I re-organized the folders, wrote some new articles, especially on pretty places links, and put new features: the shoutbox and the web-counter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Minggu lalu aku habis-habisan menata isi blog-ku. Selain menata ulang folder di dalamnya, aku, juga menulis artikel baru, terutama di halaman "pretty places" plus menambahkan fitur baru: shoutbox agar teman-teman bisa langsung menyapaku dan web-counter agar aku tahu berapa banyak jumlah kunjungan di blog-ku.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you like it! =)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114466436587617947?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114466436587617947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114466436587617947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114466436587617947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114466436587617947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/updated-look-of-my-blog.html' title='Updated Look of My Blog'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114450787778371472</id><published>2006-04-08T21:32:00.001+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-08T22:14:15.660+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unkay</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/af-unkay3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/af-unkay3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Unkay. Since the first time I heard that name I always felt that the name is such a cute name. I found that name one month ago, when I was visiting my school library. Suddenly a librarian came to me and said that there was a Mexican photographer who was searching for Indonesian faces to be the photo object for a European Community project. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Then I wrote my name and my mobile phone number, and he gave me that name. Unkay. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I was in huge curiousity, on how a female professional photographer should look like, and on how it feels to be photographed by her in beautiful Paris. Then I opened her homepage. There was nothing much I could find... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/af-unkay2.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/af-unkay2.0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/af-unkay1.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/af-unkay1.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Days went so slow when I was waiting for confirmation on the photo project, and, one day my Indonesian classmate, Lisa, told me that another Indonesian girl in Alliance Français, Rika asked us to be together in a photo session with Unkay. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a bit disappointed when Unkay couldn't come on a Monday afternoon that she was promised before. But the next day, I was stunned. I was amazed to see her. I kept on saying my admiration. "The photographer is much more beautiful than the models...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, she's just GEORGEOUS. With her long dark hair, dark eyes and tanned skin, she looked so perfect and warm with her big smile. I felt warm to be around her. That first afternoon we signed a letter that certify our agreement to have our picture being used for the publication related to the project for four years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed being Unkay's model. She didn't speak much English, so she directed us in french, and &lt;em&gt;voila&lt;/em&gt;, see the beautiful works of Unkay for us... the Indonesian students in Paris.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Merci beaucoup, &lt;em&gt;Cher &lt;/em&gt;Unkay!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/af-unkay1.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/af-unkay1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114450787778371472?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114450787778371472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114450787778371472' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114450787778371472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114450787778371472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/unkay_08.html' title='Unkay'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114450629886398278</id><published>2006-04-08T20:51:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-08T21:31:09.560+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouhhh...Passé Composé....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span &gt;Maafkan daku, para guru bahasa Perancisku... &lt;em&gt;passé composé &lt;/em&gt;terasa terlalu sulit buatku.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dua hari yang lalu kelasku mulai belajar tentang &lt;em&gt;Le Passé Composé&lt;/em&gt;, atau struktur lampau dalam bahasa Perancis. Pelajaran ini benar-benar sulit bagiku. &lt;em&gt;Lah &lt;/em&gt;gimana nggak sulit, untuk menyatakan sesuatu yang telah lampau subjek harus ditambah dengan l'auxiliaire &lt;em&gt;"etre" &lt;/em&gt;atau &lt;em&gt;"avoir"&lt;/em&gt;, lalu ditambah lagi dengan &lt;em&gt;participe passé &lt;/em&gt;atau kata kerja bentuk lampau.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dalam bahasa Inggris kan kita tinggal mengingat &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;am &lt;/em&gt;atau &lt;em&gt;are&lt;/em&gt;, yang berubah jadi &lt;em&gt;was &lt;/em&gt;atau &lt;em&gt;were&lt;/em&gt;, atau &lt;em&gt;does &lt;/em&gt;atau &lt;em&gt;do &lt;/em&gt;yang akan berubah jadi &lt;em&gt;did... &lt;/em&gt;sementara untuk bahasa Perancis, &lt;em&gt;etre &lt;/em&gt;akan berubah jadi &lt;em&gt;suis &lt;/em&gt;untuk &lt;em&gt;je &lt;/em&gt;(aku), &lt;em&gt;es &lt;/em&gt;untuk &lt;em&gt;tu &lt;/em&gt;(kamu), &lt;em&gt;est &lt;/em&gt;untuk &lt;em&gt;il/elle/on &lt;/em&gt;(orang ketiga tunggal atau orang pertama jamak), &lt;em&gt;sommes &lt;/em&gt;untuk &lt;em&gt;nous &lt;/em&gt;(orang pertama jamak), &lt;em&gt;etes &lt;/em&gt;untuk &lt;em&gt;vous &lt;/em&gt;(orang kedua tunggal dalam bentuk sopan atau orang kedua jamak) dan &lt;em&gt;sont &lt;/em&gt;untuk &lt;em&gt;ils/elles &lt;/em&gt;(orang ketiga jamak). Belum lagi &lt;em&gt;avoir...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Nah&lt;/em&gt;, setelah semua kegawatan mengingat perubahan bentuk auxiliaire dasar itu, kita harus siap menerima kenyataan kedua, bahwa dalam bahasa Perancis sayangnya ada lebih banyak kata kerja tak beraturan atau &lt;em&gt;verbes irreguliaires &lt;/em&gt;dari pada yang beraturan. Euh, tidak cuma itu, ada lagi yang disebut &lt;em&gt;verbes pronominaux&lt;/em&gt;, atau kurang lebih kata kerja yang akan menyesuaikan diri dengan suatu perbuatan itu dilakukan untuk siapa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lebih gawat lagi, ketika bertemu dengan &lt;em&gt;etre&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;participe &lt;/em&gt;akan bersetuju dengan subjeknya. Jadi...berubah lagi &lt;em&gt;deeeeehhhh&lt;/em&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Misalnya &lt;em&gt;nih&lt;/em&gt;, untuk menyatakan "dia datang" (beberapa waktu yang lalu), kalimatnya akan menjadi seperti ini:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Il &lt;strong&gt;est &lt;/strong&gt;arriv&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;é&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;(bila yang datang orang ketiga laki-laki tunggal)&lt;br /&gt;dan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Elle &lt;strong&gt;est &lt;/strong&gt;arriv&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;ée&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;(bila yang datang orang ketiga perempuan tunggal)&lt;br /&gt;dan bila yang datang orang ketiga laki-laki jamak, maka kalimatnya akan menjadi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ils&lt;strong&gt; sont &lt;/strong&gt;arriv&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;és&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dan bila yang datang orang ketiga perempuan jamak maka kalimat akan menjadi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Elles&lt;strong&gt; sont &lt;/strong&gt;arriv&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;ées&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hiks-hiks... lebih stress lagi karena bahasa Perancis selalu punya banyak perkecualian. Misalnya, sebetulnya yang bertemu dengan &lt;em&gt;"etre" &lt;/em&gt;hanya adal 15 kata kerja, plus &lt;em&gt;verbes pronominaux&lt;/em&gt;, tapi adakalanya verbes yang masuk dalam &lt;em&gt;maison d'etre &lt;/em&gt;akan bertemu dengan &lt;em&gt;avoir...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hiks, betul-betul minggu yang melelahkan. Aku merasa bodoh sekali....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapi bagaimanapun kita harus menguasai &lt;em&gt;Passé Composé, &lt;/em&gt;karena saat kita bercerita tentang kegiatan kita, dan terutama saat menulis CV dalam bahasa Perancis, kita sering memakai struktur ini. Doakan aku ya! ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114450629886398278?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114450629886398278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114450629886398278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114450629886398278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114450629886398278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/ouhhhpass-compos.html' title='Ouhhh...Passé Composé....'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114427365645767086</id><published>2006-04-06T03:55:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-06T16:55:05.786+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Need Magic?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saat aku masih bocah, aku selalu ingin menemukan keajaiban: sayap yang besar yang akan membawaku terbang melintasi langit dan singgah di bintang-bintang, atau singgah di negara manapun yang kumau, istana dengan ruang yang luas yang dipenuhi mainan dan hiasan yang cantik, menara yang tinggiiiii... untukku memandang langit atau bicara pada burung-burung, berteman dengan binatang-binatang lucu di hutan yang hijau dan ramah, taman bunga warna-warni yang harum, harta karun di bawah tanah, rumah pohon yang besar...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sampai saat aku dewasa pun, mimpi indah tentang keajaiban itu kadang masih singgah dan membuatku terus tersenyum saat aku terjaga dari tidur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC_5445.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/DSC_5445.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;me, a travel guide and the "need magic?" shirt from Disney &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC_5445.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tak heran, Disneyland selalu memakai kata "magic" sebagai jargon iklannya. Iklan di TV yang sedang ditayangkan pun bercerita tentang keajaiban mimpi anak-anak, mulai dari mimpi seorang gadis kecil untuk menjadi seorang putri, dan mimpi seorang bocah lelaki kecil untuk terbang seperti Peter Pan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meski umurku sudah lebih dari seperempat abad (euh...), aku masih ingat sensasi "magic" yang kurasakan saat pertama kali mengunjungi Disneyland di Tokyo sepuluh tahun yang lalu. Aku ingat senangnya melihat bunga-bunga yang mekar dan kastil yang megah, tak lupa juga sensasi melaju di wahana &lt;em&gt;"Space Mountain" &lt;/em&gt;yang membawaku melintasi bintang-bintang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tahun ini, aku kembali Disneyland, tapi kali ini aku datang ke Disneyland Paris. Di sini aku tak perlu membaca peta. Aku punya pemandu istimewa: Jeff. Lima tahun bekerja di Disneyland membuatnya hafal semua sudut dan atraksi yang ada. Yang lebih asyik lagi, aku tak perlu membayar 45 euro untuk masuk ke area Disneyland seperti para pengunjung lainnya. Ada fasilitas khusus untuk karyawan Disneyland Resort Paris; tiket masuk untuk 45 orang per tahun, dan Jeff menggunakannya untuk membahagiakan orang-orang yang disayanginya. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00172.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/DSC00172.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Jeff, my "ultimate guide" for Disneyland Paris &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Ada kurang lebih 40 atraksi atau wahana di Disneyland Paris. Yang mengherankan buatku adalah banyaknya pengunjung yang datang meski bukan di hari libur. Kata beberapa orang tua yang kutemui, pada awalnya banyak yang meragukan keberadaan Disney di negara se-klasik Perancis. Saat mulai dibangun pada tahun 1989, banyak yang mengira kalau Disney bakal menuai kegagalan karena berjalan di arus yang berbeda dengan bisnis pariwisata yang telah berjalan di Perancis pada umumnya. Tapi ternyata prakiraan tersebut salah. Saat dibuka untuk umum pada tahun 1992, Disneyland mampu menyedot banyak pengunjung dengan "keajaiban" yang ditawarkannya. Saat ini tercatat setidaknya ada 12 juta pengunjung yang datang ke Disneyland Paris setiap tahunnya! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00166.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/DSC00166.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;di depan pintu masuk utama. Mickey di belakangku.... &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Bisnis ini menyedot ribuan tenaga kerja. Paling tidak ada 200 macam posisi yang berbeda, yang dijalankan oleh para karyawan di Disneyland, mulai dari para manajer, teknisi sampai para penanam bunga. Disneylang Paris menjadi "melting pot" yang mempertemukan begitu banyak orang dari berbagai negara untuk bekerja dan bersahabat di dalamnya. Banyak pula yang kemudian jatuh cinta dan menikah dan membangun keluarga multinasional, dengan pasangan suami istri yang memiliki kewarganegaraan berbeda, namun dipertemukan oleh "keajaiban" Disney....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Banyak sumber pemasukan yang bisa diciptakan dari bisnis ini. Selain tiket masuk, Disneyland juga mendapatkan pemasukan dari berbagai pos lain, mulai dari hotel, toko cinderamata sampai pop corn dan es krim! Jangan salah ya, meski kelihatannya sepele, para penjual pop corn di dalam arena Disneyland Paris adalah karyawan resmi Disney. Mereka mendapatkan pelatihan khusus tentang "sentuhan Disney" yang sama dengan pelatihan dasar yang diberikan untuk para manager! Banyak mahasiswa pariwisata yang mulai belajar kerasnya dunia pariwisata dan memahami arti pelayanan publik di sini...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Selain pop corn, beberapa tahun lalu barang kecil lain yang dijual adalah ubin bertuliskan nama pesanan yang dipasang di sepanjang jalur masuk utama. Aku menemukan ubin bertuliskan berbagai nama dari berbagai negara, mulai dari Estonia sampai Jepang... Ubin kecil ini berharga sekitar 85 euro per buahnya. Yang unik adalah, aku juga menemukan nama anggota tim sepak bola nasional Perancis: Fabien Barthez! Hum, dia bayar nggak ya? :?/ hehehe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00167.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/DSC00167.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Oom Barthez suka tampil juga rupanya....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Untuk tetap menarik perhatian pengunjung, Disneyland harus selalu inovatif. Tak akan ada yang tertarik untuk datang kalau atraksi yang ada itu-itu saja kan?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Untuk itu, selain mengadakan event tentative seperti display piala dunia dan jumpa fans dengan para pemain bola di tim nasional Perancis, tiap tahun ada saja atraksi baru yang diluncurkan. Tahun lalu Space Mountain II diluncurkan. Aku sudah mencobanya sebulan yang lalu. Hum, seru banget! Nah, untuk tahun ini adalah wahana &lt;em&gt;Buzz Lightyear laser blast&lt;/em&gt;, yang dibuka untuk umum mulai 8 April 2006. Ini dia wahananya!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00170.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/DSC00170.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;aku mirip Buzz ngga sih? =)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Meski demikian, diantara cerita tentang super hero modern macam Buzz, petualangan macam Indiana Jones atau lucunya Mickey yang dipajang di Disney, cerita Disney klasik tetap membuat orang bermimpi untuk menjadi putri yang tinggal di istana yang megah, di antara bunga-bunga yang indah dan kristal yang berkilauan, seperti di sini...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00168.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/DSC00168.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Disneyland Castle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00169.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/DSC00169.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sakura mekar di Disneyland Paris&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00184.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/DSC00184.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;glass crafts souvenir shop &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Di penghujung hari Mickey akan melambaikan tangannya kepada semua pengunjung dan mengucapkan terimakasih atas kedatangan kita. Karakter Disney yang lain pun tak kalah sibuknya, berjalan-jalan, menandatangani buku para pengunjung dan berfoto bersama. Kita mengenal mereka dari ranah hiper realitas, namun mereka dijelmakan menjadi nyata.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sungguh, kadang hal ini membuatku berpikir, betapa indahnya mempunyai mimpi dan membangun tempat yang memiliki gambaran terdekat dengan mimpi yang kita miliki. Betapa keajaiban yang kita miliki sebenarnya begitu dekat: dia ada di alam pikir, setiap saat bisa terciptakan. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;So, if you need magic, just fantasize and think of how you'll make it come true... =)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00186.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/DSC00186.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;ini Tic (Kiki) atau Tac (Koko)?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114427365645767086?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114427365645767086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114427365645767086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114427365645767086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114427365645767086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/need-magic.html' title='Need Magic?'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114427007459411875</id><published>2006-04-06T03:28:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T16:59:08.556+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Les Lunettes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mission:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;observing the tendances of sunglasses trend for spring/summer 2006 in Paris&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Duty stations:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Commercial Centers in Paris-France&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Facts found:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;so many big sunglasses are displayed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;see...see...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00158.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/DSC00158.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00157.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/DSC00157.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00156.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/DSC00156.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00155.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/DSC00155.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00159.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00160.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/400/DSC00160.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC00161.jpg"&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hypothesa:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Global warming, more infra red attacks beyond the hole in the ozone layer makes you need BIGGER protection for the eyes.&lt;br /&gt;It will be a really dry and dusty spring and summer. Protect your eyes and the spaces around...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Conclusion:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's your choice! =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114427007459411875?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114427007459411875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114427007459411875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114427007459411875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114427007459411875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/les-lunettes.html' title='Les Lunettes'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114399881112952932</id><published>2006-04-03T00:12:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T07:46:47.136+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shop but Not 'til You Drop</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Apa kegiatan utama minggu lalu?&lt;br /&gt;SHOPPING!&lt;br /&gt;Kedengarannya ngga gue banget ya?&lt;br /&gt;Tapi tunggu dulu... ini bukan sembarang shopping. Ini tentang belanja yang bijak di Paris dan sekitarnya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seperti di tempat lain di seluruh dunia, ada tempat belanja yang murah, ada juga yang mahal. Kali ini kita bicara tempat belanja yang murah-murah aja ya?&lt;br /&gt;Setelah sepanjang hari Rabu aku dan Jeff berburu sepatu di kawasan St. Michel Paris, dilanjutkan dengan Kamis belanja di &lt;em&gt;fashion outlet &lt;/em&gt;yang &lt;em&gt;up to date &lt;/em&gt;tapi murah, La Halle, dan di hari Sabtu mama Jeff membelikan 2 gaun cantik buatku di bursa amal, kemarin aku diajak ke Gournay, salah satu daerah suburban Paris, dimana ada "&lt;em&gt;pasar tiban&lt;/em&gt;" di jalan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hanya penduduk kota itu yang diberi izin untuk berjualan. Setidaknya ada 3 ruas jalan yang ditutup bagi kendaraan, khusus untuk menjadi pasar tempat orang-orang berjualan semua barang bekas yang masih bagus kualitasnya dengan harga yang benar-benar murah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meski pasar itu dibuka dari jam 7 pagi sampai jam 6 sore, suasananya mirip pasar malam, lengkap dengan musik dan jajanan macam arum manis, yang di Perancis bernama "&lt;em&gt;Barbe à Papa&lt;/em&gt;" atau "janggutnya papa", "&lt;em&gt;pomme d'amour&lt;/em&gt;", alias apel yang dicelup di karamel, crépes dan wafel hangat. Udara hangat musim semi dan bunga-bunga tulip yang mulai mekar di sepanjang jalan juga bikin suasana belanja makin menyenangkan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buat pecinta musik dan kolektor piringan hitam, hati-hati. Kalian bisa betah banget di sini. Di pasar ini kita bisa menemukan piringan hitam original dari era 50-an sampai jamannya Rolling Stones dengan harga tidak lebih dari 5 euro. Banyak juga buku bekas yang masih bagus, yang dijual dengan harga murah: 1 euro untuk 4 buku! Aku beli buku tentang Hutan Borneo, &lt;em&gt;Le Guide du Routard Indonésie &lt;/em&gt;dan buku yang ditulis papa-mamanya temanku, Mr.&amp;Mme. des Pallières, &lt;em&gt;"Quatre Enfants at Un Reve"&lt;/em&gt;, plus satu buku detektif yang dipilih mamanya Jeff. Semuanya masih bagus. Hm, kalau saja aku sudah bisa mengerti lebih banyak bahasa perancis, aku pasti sudah beli lebih banyak buku.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku dan Mag, adik Jeff juga bekerja sama buat memilih anting cantik yang dibandrol di harga 5 euro untuk 3 pasang. Ada juga pedagang yang berjualan barang antik peninggalan kakek-neneknya. Khusus buat barang antik, di pagi hari para pemilik galeri juga ikut berburu di sini.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saat barang-barang itu baru dikeluarkan dari mobil, para ahli barang antik itu mulai bergerilya memeriksa kualitasnya dengan &lt;em&gt;scanner &lt;/em&gt;khusus yang bisa mendeteksi umur suatu barang. Barang antik itu pun berpindah tangan dengan cepat, dengan harga yang cukup tinggi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Menjelang jam 6 sore para pedagang dadakan itu mulai mengemas barang-barangnya. Ada yang mengemasnya kembali ke dalam mobil untuk kemudian membawa barang yang ngga laku kembali ke rumah, tapi ada juga yang malas dan memilih meninggalkan barang-barang itu di jalan. Seorang pedagang malah memberikan &lt;em&gt;toaster &lt;/em&gt;bekas yang masih bagus begitu saja saat kami lewat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selain bursa barang bekas seperti ini ada juga pasar murah &lt;em&gt;a la &lt;/em&gt;Simpanglima Semarang yang digelar di beberapa ruas jalan di Paris dan sekitarnya. Produk yang dijual bermacam-macam, mulai dari sayur dan buah sampai baju dan sepatu. Di dekat tempat tinggalku sekarang, pasar ini buka tiap Rabu dan Jumat di Rue du Luzard, sedangkan di dekat apartemen tempat tinggalku dulu (di tahun 2004), pasar itu buka tiap Senin dan Kamis di dekat Porte Clignacourt.&lt;br /&gt;Tapi, kalau belanja murah meriah bukan bagian dari gaya kalian, silakan saja berjalan di sepanjang St. Germain des Prés, Champs Elysées Paris atau sekitar Hotel de Ville untuk memilih barang-barang berkualitas tinggi seharga ratusan sampai ribuan euro dari butik-butik kelas dunia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Setidaknya, window shopping di kawasan ini saja sudah cukup memuaskan mata dan perasaan. &lt;em&gt;Really stylish&lt;/em&gt;. Dijamin puas deh... ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114399881112952932?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114399881112952932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114399881112952932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114399881112952932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114399881112952932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/shop-but-not-til-you-drop.html' title='Shop but Not &apos;til You Drop'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114398480710275040</id><published>2006-04-02T16:57:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-03T00:54:40.646+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aku Naik Kelas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC_6359.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/DSC_6359.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bikin PR bareng mamanya Jeff&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senang rasanya sekolah lagi. Aku jadi ingat saat-saat masih SD sampai SMA dulu, saat kita perlu belajar dan bikin PR tiap hari. Lebih seru lagi kalau kita harus melewati masa-masa ujian, dan ini tantangan yang aku suka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di Alliance Français Paris aku masih anak bawang. Aku mulai sekolah di sini sejak pertengahan Februari, di kelas &lt;em&gt;Niveau Debutant&lt;/em&gt;, alias Kelas Pemula. Di bulan pertama aku memilih program ekstensif, yang cuma terdiri dari 2 jam kursus. Selain sebagai pemanasan dan untuk tahu enak nggak-nya sekolah di AF, aku ambil kelas ini juga karena pertimbangan material. Untuk kelas ekstensif biaya kursusnya 320 euro per bulan, biaya pendaftaran 55 euro dan biaya transport bulananku 124 euro. Belum lagi uang sakuku, karena aku melewatkan makan siang di luar rumah. Kebayang kan, berapa rupiah yang harus dikeluarkan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Untungnya, atau sayangnya, nilai-nilai ujian mingguanku selalu bagus. Nilai terendah yang kudapat adalah 18 dari 20 total skor, dan sisanya 19/20 atau bahkan 20/20 alias sempurna. selain itu, seperti kebiasaanku saat sekolah dulu, aku juga aktif di kelas, rajin bikin PR dan ngga pernah bikin masalah di kelas. Anak baik &lt;em&gt;dah&lt;/em&gt;, pokoknya... =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nah, gara-gara nilai yang bagus inilah ibu guruku yang baik hati, Mme. Béatrice Tauzin, menyarankan agar aku pindah ke kelas INTENSIF. Kata beliau, belajar di kelas ekstensif terlalu lambat buatku. "&lt;em&gt;Je suis votre professeur, je vous connais bien... vous progressez trés vite.&lt;/em&gt;." Bahkan kepada Jeff beliau bilang, "&lt;em&gt;Elle est la meillieur de la classe"... &lt;/em&gt;atau, "dia yang terbaik di kelas". O-oh. :"&gt; Aku seneng banget, meski juga masih setengah nggak percaya dengan penilaian ini.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sebetulnya aku mau aja pindah ke kelas intensif, dimana aku nantinya bisa menyelesaikan 2 level pelajaran hanya dalam waktu 1 bulan. Tapiiiii... muahalnya itu loh... seminggunya 160 euro, alias 640 euro per bulan!&lt;br /&gt;Jeff adalah sponsor tunggalku. Sekarang bayangkan berapa banyak yang harus dikeluarkan untuk biaya sekolah satu bulan doang, 640 plus biaya transport dan uang saku...dikalikan Rp. 11.500,-...aih... kalau begini aku jadi kangen murahnya sekolah di Indonesia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But, he's really a good guy&lt;/em&gt;. Dia rela berkorban apapun asal aku bahagia. Komentarnya tentang ini adalah, "aku bangga padamu, dan aku senang kalau kamu bisa mendapat apa yang selayaknya kamu dapatkan...", dan, "kalau kamu sudah masuk kelas intensif, kamu ngga boleh lagi melewatkan makan siang. Kalau perlu, kamu harus makan lebih banyak. Kamu harus punya banyak energi biar cepat pintar... jadi, aku tambah ya, uang sakumu?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Euh, berapa banyak ya, laki-laki di bumi ini yang bisa mencintai perempuan yang ingin maju dan berkorban banyak untuk mendorong perempuan itu agar lebih pintar? Aku bersyukur, aku bersama pria yang menghargai hal itu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gara-gara aku naik kelas, sudah lebih dari sebulan ini Peugeot 106 Jeff tinggal di halaman rumah. Demi biaya sekolahku, dia memutuskan untuk menghemat pengeluarannya dengan cara naik kereta untuk berangkat dan pulang kerja. 15 menit yang dulunya biasa ditempuh dengan mobil dari rumah ke Disneyland telah berganti dengan 10 menit berjalan dari rumah ke stasiun Noisiel, 10 menit dalam kereta plus 10 menit dalam &lt;em&gt;navette &lt;/em&gt;(bis antar jemput) dari stasiun &lt;em&gt;Marne La Vallée Chessy/Parc Disneyland &lt;/em&gt;ke &lt;em&gt;Central Reservation Office &lt;/em&gt;tempatnya bekerja... Sungguh, aku tahu betul kalau naik kereta ngga seenak naik mobil pribadi. Selain kadang kereta datang telat, di awal musim semi ini cuaca masih sering berganti-ganti dari cerah ke hujan, dari 15° ngedrop ke 5°C, dari udara yang hangat sampai berangin kencang... tapi dia selalu berangkat dengan senyum dan pulang dengan senyum yang sama. Dia tidak pernah mengeluhkan capeknya naik kereta, meski sudah 2 kali &lt;em&gt;navette &lt;/em&gt;datang terlambat dan dia jadi terlambat juga masuk kerja....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peugeot 106 itu sekarang cuma terpakai kalau Jeff bangun kesiangan, buat mengantar aku ke dokter, buat mengantarku berbelanja, jalan-jalan, atau menjemputku saat aku pulang kemalaman dari Paris. Semuanya, semua yang terbaik dan ternyaman diberikan buatku.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sekolah tempatku belajar ini juga benar-benar layak disebut sebagai salah satu sekolah bahasa Perancis terbaik di dunia. Metodologi pengajarannya terasa tepat buat orang dewasa yang berasal dari berbagai negara. Materi pelajarannya juga bagus, lebih dekat pada kehidupan sehari-hari dan budaya di sini, sehingga semuanya bisa langsung dipraktekkan dalam kehidupan sehari-hari. Belum lagi kualitas para pengajarnya yang juga bagus, fasilitas pendukung seperti pusat multi media, perpustakaan, espace cinema, theater tempat kita bisa nonton film bareng-bareng, free wi-fi access di cafétaria, sampai semua staff-nya, mulai dari staff informasi, kasir, petugas di café, librarian, petugas keamanan sampai janitor yang ramah dan mampu berkomunikasi dengan para siswa, sekaligus mendorong kami untuk tidak malu berbicara dalam bahasa perancis yang masih amburadul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minggu lalu, atas rekomendasi guruku, redaksi &lt;em&gt;Journal d'Alliance Française Paris &lt;/em&gt;memilih aku sebagai profil pelajar&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;untuk edisi bulan April. Aku terpilih setelah guruku jatuh cinta pada semua hasil tugas menulis yang kukerjakan. Salah satunya adalah tulisanku tentang kegiatan sehari-hariku di Indonesia. Aku menulis bahwa di Indonesia hari-hariku selalu sibuk, aku sempat bekerja di radio dan TV tapi juga sekaligus belajar ilmu linguistik di saat yang sama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku bahagia banget dapat kesempatan dimuat jurnal yang diterbitkan di kantor pusat Alliance Française dunia! Kata guruku, aku adalah siswa Indonesia pertama yang dimuat di jurnal ini.&lt;br /&gt;Bagiku ini kado yang bisa kuberi buat Jeff, yang sudah memberiku kesempatan buat belajar, dengan segala keikhlasannya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku bahagia melihat senyumnya yang lebar saat dia menemaniku di sesi foto di kantor direktur AF dunia, lantai 6 boulevard Raspail 101 Paris. &lt;em&gt;Merci bien Jeff, pour le bonne chance que tu me donne!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114398480710275040?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114398480710275040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114398480710275040' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114398480710275040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114398480710275040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/aku-naik-kelas.html' title='Aku Naik Kelas'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114397170564524662</id><published>2006-04-02T16:18:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-04-02T16:55:06.193+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Perpustakaan yang Tidak Sepi</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC_7035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/320/DSC_7035.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Pabrik Coklat Menier&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Jam 4 sore, hari Sabtu.&lt;br /&gt;Apa yang biasanya kulakukan setelah belanja?&lt;br /&gt;Pulang. Membuka tas belanjaan dan menatanya di kulkas.&lt;br /&gt;Tapi tidak hari ini.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di sebelah Super U, sebuah supermarket di Noisiel, ada bangunan berdinding bata merah yang dibangun sekitar tahun 1800-an. Namanya "Ferme du Buisson". Dulunya ini adalah sebuah "ferme", alias "farm", alias "tanah pertanian" yang dibangun oleh Menier, pemilik pabrik coklat pertama di dunia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saat aku melangkah masuk ke kompleks Ferme du Buisson, aku masih melihat struktur bangunan asli yang berdinding tinggi dan disekat-sekat seperti layaknya sebuah tanah pertanian. Ada bekas kandang kuda, tempat penyimpanan gandum, sampai bekas pemerahan susu sapi. Yang berbeda adalah, di dalam bangunan itu tidak ada lagi aktifitas pertanian. Yang ada adalah aktifitas kebudayaan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gudang penyimpanan gandum telah berubah jadi sebuah "Mediatheque", dan di belakang, di dekat bekas kandang kuda ada gedung teater yang memutar film-film kebudayaan sekaligus menyediakan panggung buat aktifitas kebudayaan masyarakat di sekitarnya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bicara soal "Mediatheque", sebenarnya ini adalah transformasi dari "Bibliotheque". Mungkin dalam bahasa Indonesia kita akan sama-sama menyebutnya "perpustakaan". Dalam bahasa Perancis "bibliotheque" mengacu pada perpustakaan yang berisi buku, sedangkan "mediatheque" mengacu pada perpustakaan multimedia. Lantai satu bangunan ini berisi buku-buku dan CD yang bisa dipinjam dan dibawa pulang, sedangkan lantai dua berisi buku-buku referensi. Semua terbuka lebar, tanpa sekat, dan keterangan nama pengarang di rak-rak buku tertera jelas, memudahkan kita mencari buku yang kita inginkan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saat aku masuk ke dalamnya, aku cukup kaget melihat banyaknya orang yang melewatkan akhir pekan di perpustakaan. Ini adalah perpustakaan yang tidak sepi. Di salah satu sudut ada seminar tentang asal muasal cokelat, lengkap dengan alat peraga pembuatan minuman coklat dari suku Maya. Di sudut yang lain ada beberapa meja bundar dengan design minimalis, dengan orang-orang yang menikmati bacaannya dan sesekali bicara dengan teman-teman di sekitarnya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku menyusuri rak-rak buku. Mulai dari majalah design, buku sastra sampai sains ada di situ. JK Rowling bersanding dengan Salman Rushdie di rak untuk kategori "R". Buku-buku berbahasa Inggris, Jerman, bahkan Rusia juga ada. Pluralistik sekali...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Samar terdengar suara anak-anak. Ternyata semakin kita masuk ke dalam, ada sudut khusus untuk anak-anak, dimana buku-buku ditata di rak-rak kecil atau di kotak kayu warna-warni, di atas karpet merah. Ada meja kursi kecil seperti di ruang kelas, dan beberapa orang tua terlihat sibuk membacakan cerita dan menujukkan gambar-gambar untuk anaknya. Ada juga panggung kecil tempat sesekali diadakannya acara pembacaan cerita dan dongeng buat anak-anak. Mereka kelihatan gembira, berlarian dari satu kotak ke kotak lain, memilih buku-bukunya dan menarik-narik tangan orangtuanya. Aku tak melihat wajah sedih di sana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Semua kelihatan menikmati sore itu. Aku juga. Ini bukan perpustakaan yang memasang larangan bicara. Ini tempat kita menikmati buku-buku dan menjelajah alam pikiran kita. Ini tempat dimana kita bisa menemukan apa yang kita inginkan, menikmati bacaaan, dan mengajari anak-anak untuk mencintai perpustakaan. Tak adatanda larangan mencorat-coret buku, tak ada larangan memakai jaket atau membawa tas ke dalam perpustakaan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Setiap anggota bisa meminjam 6 buku dan majalah sekaligus untuk dibawa pulang. Banyak kan? Semua cepat dan efisien, dengan bantuan scanner dan komputer, para librarian bisa tersenyum dan bicara pada para peminjam buku.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bahkan kemarin ada tawaran khusus dari asosiasi perpustakaan perancis. Berdasarkan survey di semua perpustakaan, ditemukan bahwa buku-buku puisi tidak banyak diminati. Untuk itu, setumpuk buku puisi diletakkan di meja registrasi. Semua peminjam ditawari 2 ekstra buku puisi untuk dibawa pulang...&lt;br /&gt;Tak hanya orang dewasa, tapi juga anak-anak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aku selalu ingin membangun perpustakaan yang tak pernah sepi. Setidaknya, di sini aku menemukan gambaran tempat impianku. Semoga suatu hari nanti aku bisa juga menciptakannya di bumi kelahiranku...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114397170564524662?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114397170564524662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114397170564524662' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114397170564524662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114397170564524662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/04/perpustakaan-yang-tidak-sepi.html' title='Perpustakaan yang Tidak Sepi'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114375397786066853</id><published>2006-03-31T02:59:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T04:26:17.950+07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sakit di Negeri Orang</title><content type='html'>Euh...&lt;br /&gt;8 hari yang lalu aku bangun dengan tenggorokan super sakit, tulang super ngilu, dan kepala super pusing. Tralala... bantuan pun datang. Makan siang disiapin mamanya Jeff dan dikirim langsung ke tempat tidurku. Ngga perlu kuceritakan detail menunya, yang jelas, meski lagi sakit aku bisa ngehabisin semuanya! nyammm....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jam 4 sore, Jeff yang lagi libur nganterin aku ke dokter langganannya, pak dokter Jean-Luc Caron di Allée Paul Langevin nomer dua, Zac Ru du Nesles Champs sur Marne. Jeff udah kenal pak dokter ganteng berwajah ramah ini sejak dia lahir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jangan bayangin kita bakal ketemu sama mbak perawat yang sibuk ngedaftarin nama pasien menggilin kita satu-satu di  ruang praktek dokter di sini. Yang ada, kita masuk ke sebuah gedung apartemen, pencet tombol di atas tulisan "cabinet medical" di pintu masuk dan kunci pintu terbuka. Next step, pencet tombol di depan lift dengan keterangan yang sama, dan naik ke lantai satu. Ngga ada cerita penunggu pasien yang duduk atau berdiri di koridor sambil ngobrol, apalagi ngerokok... yang ada, sebuah ruang tunggu ukuran 6x6 dengan dua warna kursi, merah dan putih...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Euh, tentu aku nggak bisa cerita apa spirit dari dua warna ini seperti aku bercerita tentang warna bendera kita... Yang jelas sih, kursi warna putih adalah tempat duduk pasien dr. Caron, dan warna merah adalah tempat duduk pasien dr. Alain Finet. Mereka memang berbagi tempat praktek. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Semua duduk dengan tertib. Nggak ada poster sponsor perusahaan farmasi di ruang ini. Yang ada poster tentang anatomi tubuh manusia, dan... setumpuk majalah yang enak dibaca, mulai dari le Figaro, Elle, Madmoiselle, sampai journal du Mickey! Kalo kita punya majalah bekas yang masih bagus, daripada dikiloin, lebih baik dikirim ke pak dokter, dan beliau akan menaruhnya di ruang tunggu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nggak ada acara kita ngedaftar dan dapet nomor dulu. Semua pasien nyadar giliran mereka. Jadi begitu datang kita harus perhatikan wajah pasien lain satu-satu, biar kita ngga nyerobot giliran orang,  dan pak dokter sendiri yang akan membuka pintu ruang tunggu setelah rampung dengan pasien sebelumnya. Beliau biasanya bilang, &lt;em&gt;"en suite, s'il vous plait" &lt;/em&gt;alias, "(pasien) selanjutnya, silakan...". Bener-bener efisien dan bersahabat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruang praktek dokter Caron ngga kaya kebanyakan ruang praktek yang pernah kumasuki. Di dindingnya terpajang sketsa wajah Mozart, Bach, Beethoven, sebuah foto mahasiswa seangkatan beliau saat sekolah di Faculté de Médecine Paris, dan beberapa catatan partitur musik klasik.&lt;br /&gt;Pak dokter ini menulis beberapa buku. Bukan buku tentang kesehatan, tapi buku tentang para musisi klasik dan karyanya. Hebat ya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngga ada cerita tentang perawat yang sibuk ngedaftarin pasien, nyiapin dan ngerapiin file buat pak dokter. Di sini, pak dokter melakukan semua pekerjaan itu sendiri, dengan bantuan komputer tentunya. Jadi saat kita masuk ke ruang praktek, dia akan menulis sendiri data kita di komputer yang juga berjejaring dengan pusat layanan &lt;em&gt;social security&lt;/em&gt;. Beliau bener-bener memanusiakan pasien. Dia ngga cuma tanya tentang apa yang kita rasakan, tapi dia tanya tentang diet kita, obat yang kita pakai selama ini, sampai semuanya jelas, dan... ini yang jarang kita dapati di Indonesia; kesempatan buat bertanya balik ke pak dokter!&lt;br /&gt;Setidaknya, aku melewatkan 15 menit di ruang itu, dengan bahasa perancis yang pas-pasan, bantuan sebuah kamus dan terjemahan dari Jeff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sejak 2 tahun terakhir di Perancis digalakkan kampanye untuk lebih berhati-hati dalam penggunaan antibiotik. Dan, meski dokter bilang aku sakit tenggorokan gara-gara virus nakal, itulah formula resep yang kudapat hari itu. "&lt;em&gt;Sans Antibiotique&lt;/em&gt;". Tanpa antibiotik.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mau tau, berapa banyak biaya yang harus kita keluarkan untuk periksa saja?&lt;br /&gt;29 euro. Untuk tahu jumlahnya dalam rupiah, kalikan dengan Rp. 11.500,-.&lt;br /&gt;Obatku hari itu total berharga 15,71 euro. Silakan kalikan juga dengan Rp. 11.500,-. Itu biaya untuk berobat sakit tenggorokan... hiks. Kebayang dong, kalo kita sakit jantung??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pak dokter tanya apakah aku punya social security number di Indonesia, sehingga pemerintah akan membantu sebagian biaya pengobatan. "&lt;em&gt;Malhereussement, docteur, nous avons pas...&lt;/em&gt;", jawabku. Dan dia bilang ke Jeff, betapa beruntungnya mereka jadi warga negara Perancis dalam hal ini... pemerintah menjamin kesejahteraan sosial warganegaranya. Bukan cuma dalam slogan atau iklan layanan masyarakat, tapi dengan praktek dan SISTEM yang jujur dan benar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kembali soal resep tanpa antibiotik.&lt;br /&gt;Sejujurnya aku sempat meragukan resep itu, apalagi setelah  memasuki hari ketiga batukku semakin parah. Jeff menelfon pak dokter lagi, dan lewat telfon pak dokter menganalisa jenis batukku, lalu menyiapkan resep baru. Kita &lt;strong&gt;ngga perlu bayar lagi &lt;/strong&gt;untuk periksa, tapi kita bisa dapat resep baru. Asyik ya?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Untuk resep kedua ini kita cuma kehilangan 3,55 euro untuk dua botol obat batuk @150 ml. Not bad...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapiiiiiii... batukku nggak kunjung sembuh, malah makin parah. &lt;br /&gt;Pagi kedua setelah dari dokter, aku mimisan cukup parah. Ini mimisan yang pertama seumur hidupku. (buat yang takut darah, langsung loncat aja ke alinea selanjutnya...) Tissue aroma vanilla warna kuning yang kupakai jadi penuh bercak merah. Ngga cuma itu, darah juga keluar dari tenggorokanku. Sakiiiitttt banget, sesakit-sakitnya sakit tenggorokan yang pernah kualami.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapi anehnya, di rumah ngga ada yang keliatan panik mendengar hal itu. Ternyata, saat pergantian musim, mimisan adalah hal yang sangat biasa terjadi di sini... Haaauuuuuuuuuwwwww....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gara-gara batukku, Mag, adik Jeff yang cantik yang bobo di dekatku jadi selalu terbangun tiap malam. Di kelas teman-teman memprotes kedatanganku gara-gara mereka takut ketularan. Tapi... guruku yang baik hati malah makin sayang, bahkan suatu hari beliau nyiapin jus apel dan eclair au café yang uenak tenannnn... =p untuk kumakan di kelas sepanjang pelajaran. Katanya biar cepet kuat ngikutin pelajaran yang berat...hehehehe....kok ngga pernah ada ya, guru di Indonesia yang sebaik itu?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lama-lama, setelah 5 hari nggak kunjung sembuh, mama Jeff mulai berpikir, jangan-jangan ini gara-gara aku terbiasa dengan antibiotik. Beliau memaksaku balik ke pak dokter lagi.&lt;br /&gt;Sementara, aku mulai berpikir, jangan-jangan ini gara-gara aku jarang berdoa mohon kesehatan. Aku jadi mulai berdzikir lagi malam-malam (shame on me... jangan ditiru ya, inget berdoa kalo lagi sakit doang...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sementara, suatu siang, guruku bertanya, "est-ce que une allergie?"&lt;br /&gt;Pertanyaan yang cerdas. Aku jadi terpikir kemungkinan itu. ALERGI. Lagian, kayanya virus-virus sudah keluar dari tubuhku, terbukti, aku ngga lagi sakit tenggorokan, pusing atau sakit tulang.&lt;br /&gt;Auw, tapi alergi apa dong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spekulasi pun bermunculan. "Kamu alergi serbuk sari bunga ya?"&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt;Absolutement non, je pense. J'aime faire le jardinage&lt;/em&gt;", jawabku. Aku yang suka berkebun kok dikira alergi serbuk sari bunga...&lt;br /&gt;"alergi debu?"&lt;br /&gt;"alergi bulu kucing?"&lt;br /&gt;"alergi keju perancis?"&lt;br /&gt;"alergi strawberry?" (malam itu makanan penutup kami strawberry dengan whipping cream)&lt;br /&gt;sampai,&lt;br /&gt;"jangan-jangan, kamu alergi Jeff...?"&lt;br /&gt;Keluarga yang lucu. Tapi malam itu aku tetep ngebangunin mereka dengan parade batukku....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Akhirnya, kemarin aku kembali ke dokter.&lt;br /&gt;Betul, dokter bilang satu-satunya kemungkinan adalah alergi. Tapi buat tau aku alergi apa butuh waktu lama dan biaya yang ngga sedikit. Jadi, selain membayar 29 euro lagi buat periksa, hari itu kartu Amex-ku mencatat transaksi 15 euro lagi di &lt;em&gt;pharmacy &lt;/em&gt;(apotik) untuk pembelian obat anti alergi dan corticoid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meski masih penasaran aku alergi apa, aku mencoba berhenti bertanya-tanya sementara dan melihat fakta bawa banyak sekali orang Perancis yang sakit parah saat musim semi tiba. Semua gara-gara alergi. I'm not alone, and it looks normal, so it's fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malam ini batukku berkurang 90%, meski sesiangan tadi aku jalan-jalan di bawah hujan di Paris. Suhu udara hari ini 7°-14° setelah kemarin sempat mencapai 17°. Hangat, dengan bunga-bunga Dafodil dan Primerose yang mulai bermunculan di kebun belakang dan taman-taman kota. Legaaa... banget rasanya. Semoga malam ini semua bisa bobo nyenyak, termasuk Chachoune si kucing gendut yang suka bobo di sofa orange di kamarku. =D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yang membuat semakin lega adalah fakta bahwa aku punya travelling insurance yang bagus. Bukan promosi, tapi siapa tahu ini bermanfaat buat teman-teman yang mau travelling ke area Schengen/Uni Eropa. Aku pakai Elvia. Jeff yang pilihin insurance ini. Preminya 75 euro, berlaku untuk 90 hari, dan semua biaya pengobatan di-reimburse dengan transfer langsung ke bank account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saat konfirmasi reimbursement mereka memastikan penggantian biaya berobat ini. Bahkan mereka juga tanya, kapan aku pulang, dan pakai pesawat apa. Mereka bilang, mereka siap kirim ambulance kapan saja, bahkan sampai saat-saat terakhir di bandara.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gubrak. Itu hebat atau terlalu heboh ya? :?/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*** FIN ***&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114375397786066853?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114375397786066853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114375397786066853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114375397786066853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114375397786066853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/03/sakit-di-negeri-orang.html' title='Sakit di Negeri Orang'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114354002849814668</id><published>2006-03-28T16:57:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-03-28T17:04:35.096+07:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Writing Homework</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This is the first writing project for my homework, and I did it!!!&lt;br /&gt;I'm just crazy about writing, and eventhough now I'm still in beginner class of Alliance Français Paris, I try my best to write what I know, and, hum, here it is...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LE COUPLE ET LA FAMILLE EN INDONESIE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les Indonésiens regardent le mariages comme presque une obligation pour tous les adultes. Il y a une variation des àges moyens pour le mariage en Indonésie. Dans les grandes villes, par exemple Jakarta, la capitale, l'àge moyen du mariage est de 28 ans pour les femmes et 3 ans pour les hommes. Mais, pour les villes rurales, l'àge moyen est 20 ans pour les femmes et 24 ans pour les hommes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Le niveau d'education par personne affecte aussi la decision du mariage. Les Indonésiens qui possedent une éducation plus eleveé se marient plus tard, parce que normalement quelqu'un qui finit ses études à université à l'age de 24 ans veut commencer sa carriére avant le mariage. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;La majorite des couples modernes a deux enfants depuis 1980, quand le gouvernement à recommendé le plan familial qui proment que "deux enfants sont assez". Mais le plan familial n'est pas obligatoire pour les citoyens. Alors, aujourd hui il y a aussi des familles qui ont 3 à 5 enfants, mais il y a un peu. En Julliet 2005, le composition de la population par ages en Indonésie est de 29.1% de 0 à 14 ans, 65.7% de la population de 15 à 64 ans, et 5.2% de plus de 65 ans (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cia.gov/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;www.cia.gov&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Je n'ai pas trouvé d'enquette qui ont fait une recherche sur l'opinion des Indonésiennes visevis d'importance de la famille, mais culturellement la famille est tres importante pour la majorite des Indonésiennes. Les familles ont un role dominant dant les décisions principales de la vie des enfants depuis leur plus jeune age. Une illustration culturelle peut etre donnée; les Indonésiens connaissent beaucoup de proverbes qui expriment l'importance de la famille. Un exemple est un proverbe populaire de l'importance des parents, "la permission donneé par les parents est la route vers le futur bonheur", et un proverbe sur l'importance des enfants comme "les enfants sont un bijou dans le coeur des parents"... et cet proverbes se confie à la majorité des Indonésiennes jusqu à aujourd hui! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;En 2005 la population Indonésienne est de 242 millions d'habitants. 50.08% de la population sont des femmes (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cia.gov/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;www.cia.gov&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;), et presque 35% des femmes travaillent et apportent de l'argent au ménage (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nakertrans.go.id/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;www.nakertrans.go.id&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;). Les familles dont le mari et la femme ont un gros salaire préfèrent avoir une bonne, ou une employee de maison qui effectue les taches ménagère à la maison. Maniere que la culture du "pattern patriarcat" reste dans la majorite des familles indonesiénnes: le role du père de famille qui est le chef de famille reste le principle meme des famille indonésiennes. C'est en majorite les hommes qui prennent les decisions importantes, et l'egalité n'existe pas encore pour les travaux domestiques dans beaucoup des familles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Les activistes pour l'égalite des droits des femmes disent: "les deux pieds de la femme indonésiennes marchent sur deux terrains differentes: le terrain domestique et le terrain professionel; et elle doit faire avec les deux à la fois".&lt;br /&gt;Cette position n'est jamais facile à tenir...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resources de données:&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.cia.gov/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;www.cia.gov&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;- &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nakertrans.go.id/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;www.nakertrans.go.id&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note from my teacher, Mme. Beatrice Tauzin:&lt;br /&gt;travail trés complet et trés interessant, bien rédigé... Bravo Asri! =)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13130343-114354002849814668?l=daysofagirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114354002849814668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13130343&amp;postID=114354002849814668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114354002849814668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13130343/posts/default/114354002849814668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://daysofagirl.blogspot.com/2006/03/my-first-writing-homework.html' title='My First Writing Homework'/><author><name>Asri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02412910062958863732</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PkJQhyIuxk0/SXf-FIDwyEI/AAAAAAAAAXc/lJJwi-Ptfwc/S220/aku.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13130343.post-114319471298373608</id><published>2006-03-24T16:26:00.000+07:00</published><updated>2006-03-24T17:05:13.000+07:00</updated><title type='text'>apa kabar Indonesia?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7024/1142/1600/DSC_7117.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Hmmm...&lt;br /&gt;Setelah 1 kali nonton pertandingan rugby dan 1 kali nonton bola di Stade de France di tengah suhu -2°C, jalan-jalan ke Roche sur Foron, Annecy, Provins, liat pabrik Champagne, visit ke pabrik coklat pertama di dunia, jalan-jalan di castle Champs sur Marne di tengah salju, 2 pesta ulang tahun, 7 undangan makan malam, visit ke pameran women's day di Unesco, 3 kali ke Disneyland, ngubek-ubek Chinatown di distrik 13, nemu pasar ikan di Bastille, nonton pameran lukisan internasional di Cité des Arts, jadi tamu di kelas bahasa Inggris di Villiers, nonton pameran digital images dan satu kali keracunan oysters....akhirnya...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.... musim semi tiba!!!! Yipppeeeeeee....&lt;br /&gt;Tadi pagi aku bangun dengan suara burung di luar jendela. Bunga-bunga kecil mulai muncul malu-malu, rumput di taman-taman mulai hijau, pohon-pohon apel di taman Luxembourg mulai ditata dan dikasih label nama, dan sakura di beberapa tempat mulai mekar. Temperatur mulai beranjak lebih dari 10°, meski di pagi dan malam hari masih dibawah 0°.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disini aku jadi bisa lebih mensyukuri siklus kehidupan dan hangatnya sinar matahari...euuuuuuwwww....C'est absolutement une belle vie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sekolah tetap berjalan seperti biasa. Banyak PR, ada test tiap hari Jumat, plus aku masih harus melewatkan 2 jam per hari untuk pulang-pergi di kereta commuter rute banlieu La Defense/Paris-Marne la Vellee/Parc Disneyland.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alliance Français Paris (AFP), sekolahku, terletak di boulevard Raspail. Kawasan Raspail, Montparnasse, Luxembourg dan St. Michel yang terletak di distrik 6 Paris juga disebut sebagai "le quartier des étudiants" atau "kawasan pelajar", karena di sini banyak universitas dan sekolah terkemuka, seperti universitas Paris, Universitas Sorbonne atau AFP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minggu lalu suasana di distrik ini cukup menegangkan. Ada demo massal, yang disebut sebagai "manifestation contre le CPE" atau pernyataan menentang "CPE", undang-undang ketenagakerjaan yang baru diberlakukan di Perancis. Beberapa pasalnya dianggap sangat merugikan para manula, penyandang cacat dan fresh graduates, diantaranya pasal yang mengatur tentang kontrak kerja dan sistem PHK. Yang patut ditiru dari demo di sini adalah rapinya perencanaan dan informasi kepada publik tentang waktu dan jalur yang dilewati demonstran. Sehari sebelum demo kita bisa melihat detail rute dan waktu demo di TV-TV, dan semuanya ontime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ribuan mahasiswa, orang tua dan kelompok penyandang cacat turun ke jalan, long march di sepanjang rute St. Michel-Port Royal-Luxembourg-Raspail-Montparnasse.&lt;br /&gt;Sebetulnya sih suasananya lebih mirip karnaval, dengan truk yang bawa sound system gede-gede, baju-baju demonstran yang ditempeli sticker warna-warni berisi pesan anti CPE dan barisan yang rapi...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapi, Kamis siang, saat kelasku lagi sibuk ngerjain tugas mengarang, tiba-tiba ada suara tembakan di tengah ramainya yel-yel demonstran. Ternyata ada provokator yang tawur sama polisi di ujung jalan. Nggak lama kemudian jalan di depan kampusku langsung dipenuhi van polisi, lengkap dengan sirinenya yang bising, dan polisi yang berlarian di jalan dengan pistol dan tameng. Euh... kereta bawah tanah jadi lebih padat gara-gara jalan raya macet dan banyak bus yang terlambat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hari itu aku melihat Paris yang nggak secantik biasanya. Banyak spanduk di sepanjang jalan dan di depan universitas-universitas. Selain polisi yang siaga, yang bikin suasana terasa tegang adalah sepinya jalan raya. Semua orang berusaha jalan secepat mungkin ke stasiun métro terdekat, karena kadang (seperti halnya di kebanyakan aksi di jalan) kita bisa terjebak di tengah kerusuhan dan tiba-tiba diangkut di dalam truk polisi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jangan bayangkan kalau di negara yang menganut asas Liberté-Egalité-Fraternité ini polisi akan sehati-hati polisi di USA. Di sini polisi lebih suka main gebuk sembarangan. Makanya ngga heran kalau kata "police" sering dipelesetkan jadi "poulet", alias "ayam", untuk menggambarkan sebelnya orang Perancis pada polisi yang suka menggertak di balik seragamnya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cerita lain dari minggu lalu adalah, aku pergi ke "Salon Mondial du Tourisme", atau pameran Turisme Internasional di Paris. Ini adalah pameran internasional pariwisata terbesar di perancis dan salah satu yang terkemuka di kawasan Eropa. Ada lebih dari 300 peserta pameran dari lima benua. Di barisan terdepan ada stand promosi negara-negara anggota Uni Eropa... agak ke belakang, ada Amerika Utara dan Selatan... agak ke belakang lagi, ada Australia... sedikit ke belakang sebelum negara-negara Arab dan Afrika ada China, Korea, Jepang.... Malaysia, Vietnam, Thailand, Cambodia sampai Myanmar (dengan stand mininya).... aku sudah menduga, tapi cukup sedih juga melihat tidak adanya stand Indonesia di sana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yang bikin tambah sedih adalah saat aku melihat Thailand mempromosikan dirinya sebagai "the most exotic destination in South-East Asia" alias tujuan paling eksotik di Asia Tenggara, dan Malaysia mempromosikan truly Asia, uniknya batik, sarung tenun, suku dayak, lontong-sate ayam dan...hiiiikkkkksssss........wisata bawah air "experiencing tropical coral reefs" di kawasan SIPADAN dan LIGITAN!!! huuuuaaaaaa.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bukannya kita lebih eksotik dari mereka ya??? Kita juga punya jauh lebih banyak keindahan di Indonesia...tapi.... Thailand lebih populer sebagai tujuan wisata orang Perancis gitu loh... bulan ini sepupu Jeff liburan 2 bulan ke Thai. Bulan depan sahabatnya juga jalan-jalan ke sana. Olala.... c'est trop-trop triste pour nous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tapi ngga heran juga sih, kenapa bisa begini... Thai dan Malaysia punya tourism office yang cukup besar dan agresif berpromosi di sini. Kita bisa nemu iklan tentang mereka di majalah-majalah yang terbit di Perancis. Ngga cuma mereka, Maldives yang kecil mungil dan barusan sembuh dari porak-porandanya tsunami aja pasang poster besar-besar di stasiun kereta bawah tanah.... makanya mereka bisa lebih populer sebagai tujuan wisata dibanding Indonesia....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ingat juga kao aku berangkat ke Paris naik pesawat Garuda yang dioperasikan oleh Malaysian Airlines, karena MAS bisa kasih harga termurah untuk sebagian besar tujuan di Asia Tenggara dengan waktu transit yang tidak terlalu lama dan layanan prima. Tapi-tapi...ingat... carrier-nya, pesawatnya adalah milik Garuda....&lt;br /&gt;Kenapa ya Garuda ga bisa operate pesawat ini seperti halnya MAS???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenapa ya, kita selalu dengar kata "biaya operasional yang tinggi" dari perusahaan penerbangan kita, sementara untuk musim panas tahun ini aja Malaysian Airlines berani kasih harga mulai dibawah 500 euro untuk fli
