Reflection: My awakening – the fall of a dictator and the rise of a voice

*written a few months back*

My memories of Soeharto are heavy with smoke and chaos, as it was during my first return to my country that Indonesia fell from its glitz and glamour into a cloud of erupted suppressed frustration, hurling itself at any passing target, wreaking havoc all over the archipelago with Jakarta, its capital, sustaining the most damages. The May 1998 riots are still embedded in my mind as I, at the mere age of 16, was right in the middle of it.
Soeharto was away in Egypt, if my memory serves me well, and it was the day following the deaths of the Trisakti students who fell at the hands of the authorities during a protest. Indonesia was suffering from an economic crisis (krismon we called it) and the dollar was ridiculously high at 12000 Rupiah for 1 US Dollar. Prices for the basic goods sharply rose, and Soeharto had been re-elected again as President.

The people would have no more. Students came out in throngs to protest the re-election results and the rising prices. They sat in hordes atop the Parliament building in Jakarta. I remember passing them one day and begging my mom to let me join. She, of course, denied my requests seeing how I was just 16 and a female, with an American accent no less! I would become prime target should anything happen.

And something did happen.

 

Profile: Moez Masoud

*Thank you, Rima for including this link in one of your posts.

“In the name of Allah the most beneficial the most merciful

I would like to start by saying I wanted to speak from my heart and not through any particular position that this temporarily world may have given me. Am also being very challenged right now because I am a public speaker because I want to say a meaning that is very sincere, and I think sincerity is something that is very difficult and a very rare commodity nowadays and am speaking for myself I think that the very word personality finding it’s root in Latin word persona meaning mask and I don’t want to have a mask before I speak and am hoping that everyone has shed their mask before they leave and have truly understand one another and looked at one another face trying to genuinely understand another one in what we all believe in below is a verse from the Qur’an.

O people we (God) have created you from a pair from a male and a female and we have made you into peoples and tribes that you may know one another.

I think that I would like to live it of saying that to me in this context Allah, God is if I am allowed to say sin ominous in this context with truth, justice, beauty and a sovereign good and I think that everybody here in one way or the other believes, that there is something true you wouldn’t be here if you believed that nothing can be true and there is something beautiful one way or the other again and there is something good because everybody has good in them, and that there is justice but the only difference between us is how we define respectively truth, justice, beauty and good so let me just tell you that Walahi by Allah I swear is all semantic

 

Willful Blindness and pennies on the dollar

“North and South” chronicles the journey of the heroine, Margaret Hale, as she moves from the gentile South to the smog-filled Industrial North. There, she encounters a disparity she has not yet been accustomed to: that of the working class poor and the affluent merchants. The divide between the two extremes have not yet been bridged by a rising middle-class.

As the movie progressess, the modern phenomena of the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer is poignantly portrayed through the unsuccessful strikes leading to the demise of not only the working class proponents of the strike but also a manufacturer as others, mainly the merchants, maximized their income through speculation. Despite the abject poverty in the heart of the city, the affluent walk on by without a flinch. The level of acceptance shown by the elite of the wretched conditions afflicting the great majority of the citizens in Milton is deeply unsettling.

As I watch the movie, for probably the fourth time, I am struck by the thought that in our times, with all its advances and economic superiority, there still exists the working-class poor and the homeless. In our Washington DC suburbs area, considered one of the most affluent in the nation, we are still confronted by this disparity, though probably not as stark. Or perhaps its invisibility is not because of location or frequency of encounter but because of our own shielding of such sights, our own censureship of the harsh realities around us. Or have we become accustomed and when we go out we only see a blended, blurred image of our surroundings?

 

Tis the season…

2008 is on its way to becoming the year of life-changing experiences. All around, couples are either newly engaged, married, or pregnant. I know of more than a handful of women who are now pregnant or have just become mommies, or are newly pregnant again. Weddings also abound this year as well as engagements. Though the economy is slowing, the housing market plummeting, and a recession is seemingly around the corner (hopefully not), people are continuing on with their lives – which is a very good thing. The not so good thing is the continuing of the “keeping up with the Joneses” complex that seems to plague everyone who are in the middle of this wonderful, oh so magical, life changing experience. The government encouraging (or pushing) us to spend, spend, spend! does not help the situation at all. The journey towards these blessed events are ever more burdened with the race towards maintaining a degree of comfortability that at times exceeds our capabilities.

The baby can’t have just any old stroller, s/he needs a Bugaboo, a Quinny! The crib bedding has to be Serena and Lily, Ducduc, not secondhand! Clothing has to be from Gymboree, Baby Gap, Burberry, not from Ebay or thrift stores! Her engagement ring can’t be less than half a carat or 10k in white gold, it needs to be more than one carat and platinum with flawless diamonds encircling it! Our wedding can’t be at home, it needs to be at the Grand, the OmniShoreham, the Four Seasons!

But does it really?

 

Man-Up?

I recently brought up the idea of giving our little Bubba a play kitchen, complete with refrigerator, stove, and maybe even microwave. Here he can learn the functions of said objects without actually tampering with the real-life versions and getting hurt by his experimentation (i.e the jamming of little fingers in refrigerator doors or spilling of hot oil atop a little head). He can pretend play he’s whipping a divine meal on his play stove and storing up goodies galore in his play refrigerator. The possibilities are endless!

My wonderful idea was stopped though of cries of “no, you’ll make him girly”, “no, get him a tool box and bench set instead”, and the like that bring up perceived future threats against his manhood/masculinity. Play kitchen set= girly thus little boy with play kitchen set will end up being girly, or even worse: feminine!

 

Beginning to understand the burqa

The burqa, the long and flowing dark cloth covering women of the Islamic faith, has become a symbol of oppression, of latent fear, of submission, of unimaginable abuse. Even I, a Muslim woman, cannot look at it without cringing, without wondering what really goes on in the homes of these covered women whose eyes are our only access point to the mystery within. Is there really a mystery underneath the imposing veil covering their physique from head to toe? Or are we the imposers – putting our understanding of how women should or should not be as the basis for our judgement of their culture and lifestyles?

 

The collapse of Indonesian education – are we desensetized to the plight of underprivileged children?

The photo above is of a school in Bandung, West Java. Thirty-eight years old and falling apart, its roof finally gave in to its dilapidating conditions and collapsed. Calls to renovate fell on deaf ears. This article is about conditions of schools nationwide in Indonesia. Many are falling apart, and students have to resort to be in “temporary buildings with no walls, dirt floors, and bamboo poles supporting the roof” – hardly a conducive environment to educate one’s self in.

 

Do You Speak English?

Having grown up here in the States, I have acquired fluency in the English language (though in matters of writing, I still have a ways to go), and when spoken, it is done so with an American accent. This is not a matter of pride or arrogance for me, but when someone questions my ability to speak or write English, I can’t help but feel a sting.

 

Susu, Milk, Bus, Bis, Bapak, Father

Noah can now say more than just a few coherent words. This morning he said “bus” when the all-too familiar bastian of school appeared on the TV screen. We were watching Baby Einstein. Yes, I finally caved in. Well I didn’t cave in, but being a full-time working mom now, I do not have much control over what my little one does at home with grandma or daddy. They are devious in their scheme to override my authority, and override they did, but he is older now so I have loosened up a bit. Plus, he seems to be interactive with it, and we try to make interactive so he won’t just be sitting dully in front of the telly as images scroll by.

Apart from his continued mastering of the English language, he is beginning to know a few Indonesian words. When we say “apa”, he will repeat it. He knows “bapak”, “minum”, “susu”. He was fond of the balloon song, “Balonku ada Lima” (I Have Five Balloons), but now he seems to have lost interest. His interest is also waning with many other Indonesian songs, issuing his disapproval grunts whenever we attempt to sing them.

Is this his way of letting us know that we are putting so much on him, learning two languages at one time, too soon? He is confused? We need to take it down a notch? He’ll do it at his own pace? I am leaning towards the latter, as our Noah has been stubbornly persistent on doing things his way, learning from his mistakes and mastering skills through trial and error. Whenever he bumped his head on the table, he now knows to watch his height if he is under there or makes sure he doesn’t run into it whenever he is on one of his running sprees. He has learned.

Now will he grow out of this disinterest phase? And trial and error himself through the learning of two languages, English and Indonesian?

 

Food Obsession: Thai Tomato and Prawn “Stew”

I was browsing one of my favorite sites and discovered this idea for a quick whip-up. Thai Tomato soup was used, and since I can’t find that any where here, we can just use tomato soup and curry. Throw in some prawns, mushrooms, and whatever else you think tastes good, serve it over pasta, and you have one fine meal. And if you are a tomato and pasta lover, like I am, just looking at the pic will make you salivate. Kudos to shelterrific for bringing this idea up. Hopefully, I will remember tomorrow to bug hubby for tomato soup, curry, mushrooms, pasta, and prawns. yum. Me loves me some tomato pasta dish.