New Phase: Working

I remember one day my mom said to me that when people were young, they sacrifice their health searching for money, and when they are old, they sacrifice their money for their health.

Now, I have finally arrived at the finish line of my study at the university level. My responsibility, therefore, changed from studying to working—or earning money. In my whole life, I have been thinking that job is what defines a person. I have seen a lot of people change as they got a new job. Also, I have seen my friends change as they changed their jobs.

That is why I have not decided to apply for any permanent job yet. What I do for a living is just doing some freelance jobs like translating and tour-guiding. 

I have been a translator for about two years English-Indonesia and vice versa. The money is agreeable, but I have to work more than 9 hours a day. I do not know if it is OCD or what, but I cannot take any rest knowing that my assignment is still unfinished. That is one of the reasons why I can finish my skripsi (final research paper) on time.

Another job from which I get money is by tour-guiding. The salary is not really satisfactory, though. I was paid 150.000 IDR a day by the office, but it does not include tips from outlets and the tourists. So, it is the least that I can get in a day. In fact, the last time I did the tour-guiding, I earned 500.000 IDR a day; that was the sweet part. The bitter one was when I forced myself to do the tour-guiding when I was sick—and fasting. About a week ago, I got fever and a laryngitis—a very badly inflamed throat. I was far from home and did not have any money left, so I had no choice but to work. To pay the doctor, then, I did the tour-guiding with all the pain. I walked and explained the places to them painfully. I sacrificed my health to pay the doctor for my health. 

That is life.

I was offered some jobs in Bandung though; from the place where I had my internship program, a multinational company where my high school friend works, to working in a language center with a promising prospect of getting a scholarship and asked to be a lecturer. I, however, have not said a word to any of them for I am not staying in this city. 

I know that these offering might be the best opportunity that I blew; I know that I might the stupidest person to ignore the offering; and I know I might be regretful later.

But… 

I know one thing. What happened is what should happen. Besides, I like it when my life is unpredictable; not knowing what will happen tomorrow. I might sleep with a full or starved stomach.

I am sure that I will not be like this forever. Even an idealist will have to change to be a realist. Yet, for now, I like being what I am.

Random Spectrum

Four years has passed and now he was at the end of his time being in that university. It feels like he has just registered a few months ago. His life could have been boring and flat if he were rich, clever, and a bit more extroverted—the adjectives that he always wished for. He now realizes that even the worst things conspire to color every moment in his life. It is neither black nor white, but it is a random spectrum that he—or even anybody else—cannot explain.

***

Finding out that the tuition was too expensive, he went home thinking, ‘who need college? I can find a job and help my parents instead’. At midday, he got into his home, threw his bag, and said to his parents that he preferred to work than study.

“Do you know what you are doing? Thousands of people out there desperately want to go to college and you just blew out your chance”, his dad said.

With a sigh, he explain, “well, we currently do not have ten million, right?”

After a long debate, he went to his room, threw himself to the bed,  and checked his phone. One of his high school friends texted him, ‘have you registered yet?’

‘No. I cannot pay the tuition. I will look for a job instead’, he replied.

She wrote, ‘do not give up man! Here, call this number’, then she gave him a phone number of an academic directorate in the university he was registering.

After calling the number, he rushed to the university. At 3 p.m. he got into the university and met the directorate.

With a smile on his face, he went home and told his parents that he was a university student. Little did he know that meeting and knowing the directorate would be one the best things that could ever happen to him.

Later, he would be grateful that he was not rich.

***

In the first days on college, he felt so little and desperate finding out that he was surrounded by clever people. Moreover, he was so clumsy and shocked for the different customs, cultures, and mannerism that he had never known before.

His thought of being inferior materialized into his reality. He was both shallow and non-exist in his own mind and [probably] in campus life. Miracle, however, came; that was when strange things happened. His friends started saying that he was clever. That was quite a motivation to him. If he were really clever, he could have thought, ‘yes I am’, and then drown into the sea of pride. However, he was not clever, that was why he felt the pressure when his friends said so.

Being said ‘clever’ produced a grand responsible for him.

Later, he would be grateful that he was not clever.

***

He did not have many friends. Most of the time, he was seen to be alone, waiting in the gap of classes for hours. Unlike people who could easily get along with others, he was weird and somehow unsociable.

However, he was never found weeping. In fact, he enjoyed it. He thought, ‘I am what I am; and I will be what I must be. I will not be people pleaser’. He was a nonchalant and thus, he was sure that whoever wanted to be his friend, was his real friend. That was quite easy. Being a weirdo, moreover, made him really sensitive so that he could understand other weirdoes.

Later, he would be grateful that he could graduate because of his weirdness.

***

If he were rich, clever, and more extroverted; everything would have been too easy. He knew that good stories are those that have conflicts, ups and downs, turning point, or whatever the term is. He started having a really weird thought—quite an obsessive madness, perhaps—that when bad thing happened to him, and even when he looked so depressed; deep down inside him, there is always a roaring joy.

It is like in a hospital, as long as there are ups and downs, you are surely alive; but when it is a straight line, you are dead.

Nothing

Nothing big happened in my life, lately. Here I am, in my house, reading, watching movies, doing some translations, and going outside sometimes.

This house has been a little bit quieter since my mother, and my sisters left. Well, because of this and that, half of the people in my family move to Jakarta. It is not due to a divorce, though.

Here I am, with my father and my little brother, who will soon leave this house too.

 By the end of this month—or the beginning of next month—I will start living by myself. That is what I have always wanted; to be alone.

I could have moved with them too, actually. I, however, said to them that I still have many things to do concerning my study—which actually is already over. In fact, I do not have anything to do in this city, but I just do not want to leave this city.

***

Like I said before, this is what I want, to be alone and tranquil. I want it since what I usually heard in this house was nothing but arguments. Those arguments, however, are what I am longing for, now.

***

I feel tranquil and still… very still so that I can hear nothing but the tick of the clock, my heartbeats, and my own thoughts.

I am tranquil with nothing to worry about. I have finished my final project paper, I have enough money to stay alive, and I am no longer curious of how it is to be loved and how it is to be hurt. I have had enough of it.

I do not really want to continue my study since I can learn what I want to learn. I have all the sources and empty mind that is ready to retain anything. Besides, I have been offered to work at some places.

The questions are:

1. What do I want to do?

2. Where do I want to go?

***

Several months ago, an idea has just struck me in the head. It says that I should go find a job with high salary in other islands or even countries for 3 years, and then get back here (to Indonesia) to buy a house in the middle of nowhere, in a place where signal cannot even reach me. It says that I will buy a farm so that I can provide myself what I need.

Well…

I know that soon, my path will head to some branches. It is up to me to decide which path should I pass.

The path that I cannot take back…

Jogjakarta day 1

February 19^th 2015...

 ...in the midday I rushed from my home with my motorcycle carrying 4 train tickets to Jogjakarta (tickets for depart and return). I got into her boarding house and buzzed in with a big cup of ice cream. 

“Happy birthday!”, I said, giving the tickets and ice cream to her.

Around 5 p.m. we were at Kiara Condong train station, I was disappointed. There were many people sitting here and there on the floor with their luggage. I hardly could walk.

That was the fourth time I was at the train station—after Gambir, Station Hall, and one of the train stations in Central Java—yet, this was the worst so far.

The picture of ours, waiting for the train

We were to depart around 7 p.m. and the worst part about the station is that I did not hear any information of our train either because of the noises or they did not inform it. I, then, asked the information center. He said, “the train has arrived ten minutes ago, and it will depart in five minutes”

I wanted to say, “thanks to your crews who told us about it”, but I decided to keep silent.

We rushed to get into the station, had our tickets and ID checked, and then got into the train.

It was the second time I was in a train, and I was disappointed. We were placed in a seat front of two men. A middle-aged man and a young man—supposedly a boy—but they did not know each other. The worst part was that the distance between the seats was to near so that when I sat, my knees came into contact with the old man’s. I realized that that just the way economy-class train was. 

(My first experience in a train was in the business class, that is why I was shock when I was in the economy one)

I had to bend my knees in an uncomfortable way for 9 hours!

The steady tick of the clock accompanied me in the whole evening. I saw her sleeping and thought, ‘that is the perk of having short feet, heck!’

I glanced at my watch and saw it pointing at 1 a.m. and I just closed my eyes without being able to sleep.

“Wake up. It’s 4 o’clock. We are about to arrive”, she woke me up. I did not know whether I was sleeping or not, but time seemed to move so fast. I got off the train, taking my luggage—and some of hers.

At 04.30 a.m. we were at Lempuyangan train station and then went to a mosque.

Around 5 o’clock, we continued our travelling trip by a taxi to find a place to stay for 4 days.

Fortunately, we could borrow a motorcycle from a student in Gajah Mada University so that we could go anywhere we wanted. We start our trip at 1 p.m. at Taman Sari, a place where the royal family of keraton used to take a rest.

These are the pictures where the princes used to take a bath, but the water were drain when we were there.

We continued to get in the some other historical (abandoned) buildings and mosque in Taman Sari.

 

 In the evening, we went to the Alun-Alun (town square). There are two big Beringin trees there. The legend says that only a person with a kind heart who can walk through the gap of the two trees blindfoldedly from a flag pole (around 30 meters from the trees).

“That must be easy. Look.”, I said, pointing at the gap of the trees, “the gap is so wide. Anyone can walk there”. Then, I was blindfolded and walked to the gap. 

  I was quite sure that I walked in a straight line, but she stopped me and undid my blindfold. With a smile, she said, “you walked way too far.” When I looked to my right side, I found that I was walking so far to the side.

We were having dinner there while enjoying a festival. I did not know what festival that was, but it was like a light festival where people were riding a lighted cars (the car goes without engine, it is with pedals, like cycling)

After visiting and taking some pictures at the monument, and went sleep.