Rudy Yuan’s Streak oF BluE

I should not be talking bad about anybody, especially not about the companies that are paying my salary either directly or indirectly.

But this company’s safety department pissed me off. And I want to strike back through this blog. It’s not courageous or even useful to play behind their back, but I need something to vent off my steam.

– oo — so –

The company is a world-class American company. It happened that I visited their base in China for some work purposes.

So here goes the story.

This new base in China had big workshop area, where, according to the company’s safety regulations, all persons working inside should wear several personal protective equipment (hard hat is a must, then safety boots and coveralls). Persons without any safety equipment could still pass through the area provided they stayed inside the green zone.

Sometimes I needed to go to the workshop to take care of some things, which were scattered on a spot not far from the door to the workshop and it’s far away from any activities and very close to the green zone. So rather than wearing a hard hat, which would surely ruin my hairdo put together with so much effort in the morning (lol), I’d usually go to the spot with casual attire without hard hat but still with a safety boot (which I thought didn’t ruin my look that much and provided enough fashion needed in the work area *grin*).

So this one day I worked like usual in the spot, getting inside a big wooden box to sort some inventory. And then I noticed that a little lady was walking through the area with casual attire some distant away (she wore a hard hat though). Casual attire usually means it was somebody who came from the office across the workshop who commonly didn’t work in the workshop. So I thought it was probably the person from the office trying to check on some inventory too. And so I continued my work.

Not five minutes later I heard a camera-clicking sound. I looked up and saw that little lady take a picture of me. My super brain quickly realized that she was actually a safety officer and I didn’t wear a hard hat!

She came to me and started to talk condescendingly in Chinese. She had this stern face to emphasize that she was serious, that she could kill to mean what she said.

And I, with my innocent face, told her in slow English that I couldn’t understand Chinese well. She obviously showed disbelief expression, probably thinking I was making a joke. “He had Chinese features all over but he claimed he didn’t speak Chinese? This cute man had to be teasing me” was probably what she had in mind.

But she replied in English anyway.
‘You can not speak Chinese? Where are you from? What division are you from?” She spoke with apparent difficulty, still with stern face and sharp tone, like a wife demanding where her husband has been after he shows up late at night with a lipstick mark on the collar of his shirt.

I replied, ‘Indonesia’ (shit, I should have said some other country, shouldn’t I? Philippines? Thailand? Shit)

‘Indonesia?’ she looked at me still with the stern expression and I looked back to her still with innocent face. ‘Do you know that …bgaifaoeidnandjsf minimum requirement jsndfoiawen hat dfnasfaiaiweawi..’

She obviously wanted to feel superior as she needed to stress the importance of wearing correct protective equipment while working in the workshop. But her poor English undermined her own effort. I could not catch the entire sentence as she pronounced it with difficulty yet real fast (didn’t want to lose her superior ground, obviously). As a result, she spoke like she was sobbing, only her face wasn’t sad at all, but rather it’s like a face that’s ready to wage a humanitarian war.

Safety issues could bring serious implications. So rather than having an argument with her, I chose to leave the scene and looked for a hat, but my hatred did grow inside for this little condescending lady. Almost all safety officers had this made-up air of authority to impose safety regulations on employees. Probably they were so idling in the office that they found it necessary to show off their superiority and the importance of their existence by doing trivial matters, bringing up unimportant warnings, etc. I never disliked them, as long as they didn’t press on illogical things.

Illogical things like I had just had.

The workshop was hot. It was crazy to wear hard hat, which in that kind of weather then would surely make your head pound in dizziness as you had to do hand labor. Which is saver: to work with clear head or dizzy head with a stupid hard hat?

And by stupid hard hat I didn’t mean to say that we didn’t need it. In my circumstances, they were no flying objects, no overhead heavy machinery movement (it’s at the other part of the workshop), no heavy falling objects hazard, ONLY HEAT. What’s a hard hat to do on the top of my head for?

And the most inexcusable thing of all was that she took my picture; so she could boast to her boss, or the company’s high executives, or use it in safety presentation, that she had captured an example of an ignorant worker who disregarded safety that could bring an end to his life, which I think the viewer would find it impossible once they look at my intelligence face, which goes in sync with my intelligence mind, which stated that the hard hat was a stupid thing to fuss about. The more important aspect of the picture is the fact that it will compromise my flawless image!! (but then, define flawless.. :D)

But still you must never confront a safety issue when the regulations are written clearly. I couldn’t do anything but went to the safe area and asked anybody if they had extra hat. And I could fire back with this blog…

I saw her again this morning taking some guys, probably from a contractor, around the workshop. I didn’t wear safety hat again this time, but I escaped her just right when she was far away. When I came back with safety hat to work, she was standing with a woman and a man who didn’t wear safety hat at all, even further away from the place I worked, which means it would have bigger hazard from heavy falling objects. And I wanted to come to her to shout, ‘SAFETY HAT ARR, LADY, DON’T YOU KNOW IT’S A MINIMUM REQUIREMENT TO WEAR A HAT IN WORKSHOP AREA?’

But judging from her poor English and the analysis that confronting a safety officer wouldn’t bring any good cause, I spared her the momentary humiliation. Or some of you would say I don’t have enough guts… or the balls (we all don’t have, buddies.. I’m definitely not alone..! lol)

…

It turned out that the couple of guys were sent to install some safety notices around the buildings.

Here’s an excerpt of the safety regulations pasted just this morning.

Here’s the definition of GROVE from Encarta Dictionaries:

grove [grōv] (plural groves) noun 1. group of trees: a small group of trees 2. orchard: an area where many trees are commercially grown, e.g. for their fruit ·an orange grove [ Old English grāf, origin ?] Microsoft® Encarta® 2008. © 1993-2007 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.

So what is ‘hand groves’? HAND GROUPS OF TREES? HAND ORCHARD? Do they plant trees in an orchard as a side business???

Here’s the definition of PRODUCE: (look for the meaning of it as a noun)

produce

verb[prə dss] (past and past participle pro·duced, present participle pro·duc·ing, 3rd person present singular pro·duc·es) 1. transitive and intransitive verb make something: to make or create something ·able to produce a tasty meal from the most unpromising ingredients 2. transitive and intransitive verb manufacture something: to manufacture goods for sale ·They produce electrical goods mainly for export. 3. transitive verb cause something: to cause something to happen or arise ·Marjorie’s calls for silence failed to produce the desired effect. 4. transitive and intransitive verb yield something: to grow, bring forth, or bear something ·produce seeds 5. transitive verb take something out: to pull something out and show it ·He produced a pistol from his pocket and started waving it around. 6. transitive verb present something: to put something forward for inspection or consideration ·produced no evidence to support her claim 7. transitive verbperforming arts organize the making of something: to organize and supervise the making or staging of something ·produce a new album 8. transitive verbmathematics extend something in space: to extend the length of a line, area of a plane figure, or volume of a solid noun[prṓ dss] farm or garden products: products of farms or gardens, especially fruits and vegetables [15th century. producere "lead or bring out" ducere "to lead"]

Microsoft® Encarta® 2008. © 1993-2007 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.

OH, Groves and Produce do go along, but since when the company went for agricultural business?!

STUPID.

Translating back from the Mandarin, what it’s supposed to mean is: Soiled hand GLOVES, rags, and waste PRODUCT, STUPID.

And how can you require the parked vehicles to back into the parking lot? It would have saved their asses if they had known the phrase “Reverse Parking”.

I don’t know who made the regulations and who’s even stupider to approve it, but I’d like to think she was the stupid head.

Fyuh, somehow I feel better. I just need to squeeze out something bad into her face, then the grudge between us would be relieved.

My stupid mouth

Has got me in trouble

That is the first two opening line of John Mayer’s My Stupid Mouth.

Two of my dearest friends seemed to have good experience with their stupid mouths. One was particularly quite eager to practice it from time to time. Stupid as it was, it was a source of good laugh for us.

Yesterday.

Like usual, I won’t mention names, or the person involved would start getting famous, which I totally don’t want! It’s enough for me alone to get all the fame, the others are just decorators, my entourage. LOL (I’m sure one of them smirks right now, the other starts calling me names, animal ones).

So instead, I’ll use their current job title.

Person one. Short, big stomach (working on it, he said, which means he’d try hard to suck it in by pulling his breath and his stomach muscles in), always in defensive mode (I just noticed this behavior of him lately, which we liked to tease just to annoy him; and he got annoyed easily simply because it was indeed true he always went defensive to all accusations, direct or indirect), slept more than 8 hours a day and still complained about it, impatient, the driver (not car driver, but the one who liked to push people around, literally and figuratively)..

okay okay, I think you’ll have figured him out. Writing anything more I might get a spooky face from him for the next entire week. Let’s called him SME, short for Subject Matter Expert. OH yeah, don’t you like the title of it! He was an expert working from home and only needed to go to the office to scan passports, because he had nothing better to do! (okay, I have just won myself a hit in the face, I’d better stop or my place would be bombed, one that even worse than Marriot!)

Person two. Thin. Messy hair once it got long. Porn-laden smiling face. Unprincipled (He changed his mind every 30 seconds. Sometimes. But enough times). Pedophilic.

……OH MY GOD, I couldn’t think of anything else bad about him…! What’s the matter with me?!

Let’s call him Solution Analyst. Not so appropriate, since he had been asking for relationship solutions all around some time ago and you called him solution analyst?? Bah. (I’m not afraid in insulting this one; this one could be tamed with a simple KFC Kid’s Meal. Easy)

Person three. …… umm I couldn’t think of anything bad. He’s just simply perfect!! Oh my god, I really want to be this man, cause YEAH IT’S ME! Haha. Let’s not give me names. I like myself.

So, SME, SA, and I were having dinner at a Thai restaurant. SME made the suggestion, like usual, cause he suddenly fell in love with TomYum after a short holiday in Phuket. He was the excited kind, which I branded childish, which he denied, which means even more that it’s true.

So, the three of us were sitting at a table by the wall, looking at the menu. SME chose TomYum, which was a large portion dish. But we had really no doubt whatsoever he was more than capable to finish it all and more. I ordered Fried Rice in Pineapple, which was a signature dish of Thailand, beside the more famous TomYum. SE didn’t order anything cause he had eaten the Kid’s Meal I had bribed him earlier (he asked me to buy it, desperately, so he could get the BumbleBee CHILD toy to play with. How more pedophilic could one be!?).

Me: Duh, I had eaten a lot tonight, I don’t think I can finish all the rice. Take some from me. (I, unlike SME, really did not finish the rice)

SME: Yes nih, I won’t be able to finish this TomYum too. Both, share with me, okay.

(This, of course was a pretense. There was no way he couldn’t finish it. That’s how SA made this following line)

SA: Okay, you know I can do that, since I’M NOT AS FAT AS YOU. (this big letter meant he said it with some emphasis, louder higher pitch with snide edge, to mock  SME, contradicting his fatness to his stated humble appetite)

I was playing my BB at that time, so I didn’t notice anything, but SME got excited. He was indeed speechless, but not by the fact that he was indeed fat, since he was smiling wickedly wide while looking at me. I was confused while he smiled so horrendously until I saw A BIG WIDE ASS was passing RIGHT beside our table. It turned out to belong to a lady with HUGE body parts, who was passing through our table to go to the wash basin. She was SO huge that she had difficulties passing through the small gap between our tables; RIGHT WHEN SA said out loud “I’m not as FAT as YOU”.

I looked at SA. He was bending his head low, probably his feet were bracing firmly for an instant escape if the lady ever turned around and gave him (oh yeah) her DAMN scary sour face that seemed capable to melt anything.

We dared not move for that brief seconds, until she passed and we laughed out loud at SA’s stupid mouth. I was sure if the lady had decided to smack SA, we couldn’t have done anything but watched from afar, and meanwhile, of course, taking pictures and laughed. She was so huge I first suspected she was a male. Her face was nowhere feminine and her hair was even messier.

SA probably never felt safe until the lady left with her companion. During the meal he kept a bitter smile, ate poorly, and dared not look anywhere else but only his cell phone while I sang John Mayer’s My Stupid Mouth. Poor him, intimidated wirelessly by the lady sitting not more than 2 meters away.

Ohh, it’s another social casualty

Score one more for me

How could I forget

Mama said, think before speaking

No filter in my head

What’s a boy to do

I guess he’d better find one soon

When she left, I noticed she wore a Borobudur tee. Thank God she had been enlightened. That what saved SA’s face.. and dignity, I guess. LOL

….

And I can see clearly

An indelible line was drawn

Between what was good, what just slipped out, and what went wrong

….

I’m never speaking up again

It only hurts me

I’d rather be a mystery than she desert me

Oh, I’m never speaking up again

Starting now..

But to think again, it’s probably SME’s fiery face that had saved us that night. If her face could melt anything, his face could render anything to nothingness. UPS, great, I just won another beautiful smack to my stomach… with his fiery face. HELP! I promise I won’t call you fat anymore, SME… for today. HAHA

I had just finished swimming in a swimming pool in Kuningan area that afternoon, after which just like the usual I decided to take the Busway to get to Sudirman. A friend had asked me to accompany him watch a (childish) cartoon movie despite the fact that I’d watched it several days before. This was the price I had to pay to be one’s good friend (I dare not say ‘best’ friend since he’d just got back in relationship again with his ex and didn’t tell me!)

Anyway. I was still hooked up with my new BB at that time (super important fact). So there I was, trying to cram into the unusually crowded busway, got into the bus middle alley so my ass wouldn’t be sandwiched by irresponsible crotches, and started to text on the soft beloved BB keyboard.

Now you who are familiar with Busway’s Ragunan-Kuningan and Blok M-Kota routes should proceed to CONVERSATION section. For you who don’t understand a damn, you can refer to DUMMY KNOWLEDGE section for anything you don’t understand about the line.

DUMMY KNOWLEDGE section

Here’s the Ragunan line:

… Kuningan Madya - Setiabudi Utara - Latuharhari - Halimun (Pulogadung line exchange) - Dukuh Atas II (terminus station, all passengers without continuing ticket should disembark, also Pulogadung line exchange, BlokM-Kota line exchange) - Setiabudi Utara - Kuningan Madya … (back to the loop)

Here’s the Blok M - Kota line:

… Karet (my place, baby) - Setiabudi - Dukuh atas I (exchange to Ragunan and Pulogadung line, not terminus) - Tosari - Bunderan HI - Sarinah - to far far away

CONVERSATION section

This happened in the Ragunan line, heading to Dukuh Atas II. We were somewhere in Setiabudi Utara busway stop.

A BIG girl sat on the bus seat just behind me. She asked for direction to the man beside him.

BIG girl: “dfuabsofajnsdiuewnd iasdwpf23uu09e3208wuefoi” (this was distorted because I was fully attending my BB messenger)

man: “fausfaeaofeif apdsi SARINAH foiasdunfaiodncpawiea” (it’s not the BB messenger, it’s the YM for BB this time)

big GIRL: “okay”

That’s when I looked at both of them. The man was typical Javanese. The shy type. Probably nerd.

The big GIRL was really big. LOL. She had to sit a little bit to the front so her shoulders didn’t press against the persons sitting beside her. And her tummy.. unbelievable! Thankfully the beep in my BB shifted my attention or she would have noticed my gaping mouth while I stared at her stomach and my pretty face would have been battered into Rujak Thailand.

As the bus left the Setiabudi Utara and headed to the quite distant next stop of Latuharhary, this big girl phoned someone.

Big GIRL: “Mas, I was to stop at Sarinah right?”
………….. (she listened closely) “Yes, so I have to disembark at dukuh atas and then change corridor and head for Kota” (this must have come from the man sitting beside her, which is true if she wanted to go to Sarinah)……………”What?” (this was probably because my BB rang and she couldn’t catch the voice from her cell)

……… “What? So where should I disembark?” (oow ooh, I thought, so the Sarinah is not the destination. Interesting. BB messenger could wait a few minutes. The driver had just closed the door to the Latuharhary stop)… (she listened quite a long time and then she began to get panicked) “So I’d better disembark now?” (We were in the middle of the road, what did she mean by “disembark NOW”?)

“Yes yes, I’ll disembark. So it’s not Sarinah?” ….. “I’ll disembark. I’d just passed it. HARIHARI, right?” (OH MY GOD, what is HARIHARI. It’s Latuharhary. Where did she catch HARIHARI bus stop?) “Yes, I’d just go out at the next stop and head back, right?” (STUPID!) “okay then” (and she hung up the phone smiling)

‘OKAY THEN?’ The one she was talking to definitely had no idea that she COULD NOT just head back the other direction to get to HARIHARI…. er Latuharhary. Latuharhary was one way station, it could not be reached like usual busway station simply by taking the oposite lane and heading back!

I looked at the man who sat beside her. He must have listened to her conversation the whole time and he should know that it’s wrong for her to get out at Halimun. Once she exited Halimun, she had two choices: taking the opposite lane would make her change corridor to Pulogadung line, and she’d be lost even farther. Second choice: if she’s smart and asked around first before taking decision, she would take back the same line she dropped off and continued to Dukuh Atas.

But she didn’t ask the man sitting beside her nor the man gave any suggestions that her idea of taking the opposite lane at Halimun was wrong. He just stared straight at nothing and let out a little hint of dull smile. Either he had no idea or he was not smart enough to figure how to get back to HARIHARI or he just didn’t care or he just liked to see one’s travel got screwed up.

The operator announced “Halimun Halimun, transit to Pulogadung”

I wanted to tell her that she’d better not get off here. The right way to do it was to continue to Dukuh Atas, got out, queued for the same line back to Setiabudi Utara (she had to get out since she didn’t have a ticket to continue), took the opposite lane at Setiabudi Utara and got off at HariHari. Quite a pain in the ass, but it’s better than taking the bus to Pulogadung which would be damn far away from HariHari.

I wanted to tell her despite her big belly…

BUT ALAS, my beloved friend texted me to my BB’s YM. When I was to choose saving a lady or get an opportunity to touch the incredible keyboard of my BB again, what would I choose? OF COURSE you know my answer!

So I shifted my attention back to my BB, smiled at the response from my friend, and acted like nothing happened. Oh well, something happened. She did exit at Halimun, confidently.

See you at Pulogadung then, tummy lady! Blame BB and my friend who texted me. If someone said the keyword is “location, location, location”, maybe i could perfect it to “timing, timing, timing”.

Transpired by certain events, I started to observe some particular things around me that helps me have this long-awaited inspiration to write again. So thanks to THAT person whom I would soon mention, and then especially thanks to the persons who would soon be the victim in my writing, again.

The financial crisis

Indonesian has a saying: Like a frog inside a shell (which I dumbly translated from “Bagai katak dalam tempurung”), which describes or usually mocks persons who have little knowledge of the news of the world. (but why or how would a frog be inside a shell in the first place…? it still catches me…). If you don’t know about the worldwide financial crisis that hits everywhere (so the news said, I’m quoting), you must be a one hell of a frog!

Now, after the insulting part is delivered, I think it’s enough for me… to start another insult. 

Anyway. I never thought I felt its presence in Indonesia. What changed? People still crammed the malls at weekends. The shirt size I wanted was out of stock! The cafeterias were filled with meaningless chatter (why, if it hits those chatters, they would probably better have tea, coffee, ice cream back at home, not at some jazzy little cafe shops).

But then, Europe might have different story.

A friend of Mine

Let’s say his initial AK (this, again per my usual habit, is of course a true initial). He lives somewhere in Europe (the country that’s surrounded by France, Switzerland, Austria, Belgium, Netherlands, Denmark, and Poland… Its flag is Black Red Yellow horizontal strip. What? Still dunno? Emm. Nazi. SERIOUSLY, get out of the shell, FROG). 

He’s a student that earns 500usd per day. Yeap! That is a figure I disfigure. The actual is probably twice or thrice that. Smart. Handsome (some say, though I keep agreeing and disagreeing depending on my mood and his behaviour. peace!). Nice and Single (right? what’s wrong with nice handsome people yet single? gay. raise your hand to agree and shut up to disagree). 

He hated Indonesian movie, never even watched the national must-watch-teen-movie AADC. Not to mention Ayat-Ayat Cinta that made our president cry.

Then there was this event where Indonesians who stay in his German town *ups* would watch the famed Laskar Pelangi together there. Free. But for a person who does not even like Indonesian movies, who cares? He does.

Turned out there was free food. And he was all so eager to attend, even when I heard there was hailstorm and it was dangerous to go outside. Even it threatened to ruin his 150usd jacket. (okay okay, it’s a marked up side-story). So I thought, okay lah, he’s excused. One could never pass a free food and socializing, right?

Later that night, he was unable to sleep. I smelt guilt. He didn’t even pay attention to the film but he got to eat, for free. But I kept the silence since I didn’t have the substantial evidence from his stool sample. But even if I got his stool sample, I would still be wrong. Problem was he was so eager for the next day to come. Another free food. At the church. After the Easter service. Think about: 1000usd earning per day and free food and serial pattern of gathering free food and church. I could imagine the elusive Thermodynamics Law better.

“Okay, honestly”, I asked, “are you short of money or something?” 

“no. It’s free food, man :))” (YM archive available for proof)

This frenzy free food hunting raised my eyebrows. We texted with YM while he “hunted” around the hall (that’s how I imagined him, without the spear and the deer-skin bikini of course). I thought he was so busy doing search, lock, and hunt that he rarely replied me. Maybe handling two plates of Indonesian cakes, one of Mee Goreng, and BlackBerry was just too hard for anybody’s acrobatic skills. Yeah, you read it right, a BB user.
Well, for the sake of our friendship, I should start lifting the mood… First of all, he missed Indonesian food. Excused.

He’s a student. That is to validate the gossip that all students are superb free food hunters regardless of anything. If one happens to be a not, write him off a student status already!

Then maybe he converted into a good Christian instead and decided to go to the church, right? Even though fot the fact that he texted me with his BlackBerry and got stared at during the service…

And then there’s the reason that he got nothing better to do that day. Right?

But 1000usd…. I dunno. Free food is surely that tempting, I guess.

AK, we’re still friends right? Right? *heehee*

The Terminal

This happened exactly after I texted with AK while he was food gathering.

Background info: There were two parts of the team for directional drilling. One was MWD, our team, and the other was DD. DD generally had much more income than us MWD. Much more. Many of them whom I know were spenders. Big spenders. Well, there were some cases of anomaly, but it was just human nature.

So, I was still at the rigsite at that time. We were tidying up for going back to town. I had this little chat with my partner.

HIM: So I have booked the flight for us for tomorrow. All’s full for today. 
ME: Okay. So we’re going to Palembang today?
HIM: Yes, we stay overnight and then head for airport early tomorrow.
ME: Cool no problem. The DDs are all going home too?
HIM: Yes. All three of them. We’re all going to stay in the same hotel.

One of the DD was a new guy.

ME: Oh, the three of them?
HIM: Yes, all of them. Even J. (mentioning the new DD). Talk about that, he asked me how much it would cost for one night stay in the hotel.
ME: And?
HIM: I told him around 400thou rupiah. (newsflash: it was probably the amount of money DD trainee earned in one day at site. He had worked for 2 weeks in the site)
ME: Okay, and?
HIM: He replied in shock. He said, “What? That expensive? I think I’d pass.”
ME: SO where will he be staying?
HIM: He said this, “It’s okay. You people can stay in the hotel and I’ll just spend the night in the bus terminal”
ME: … WHAT??
HIM: (chuckle) yeah right? Mas Y (this is the senior DD, who earns probably 4mio a day) had the same reaction. Mas Y said “J! You’re humiliating our reputation as DD. NO DD stays at the terminal! Don’t act like homeless people. You would stay in the hotel, no matter what. What nonsense. Terminal!! Bah, that’s where thugs and thieves sleep, not a civilized man, more than that, surely not DD!!”
ME: Oh mi god, he rocked the new low of being DD!

He stayed in the hotel, all right. The day after, when we landed at Jakarta airport, he looked like hell. Disheveled hair. Sleepy eyes. Dull expression. The one you would describe a homeless, indeed. Why, I wonder whether bus terminal chair had better cushion than the hotel bed we stayed in that night..

The Man and The Kid

Okay this happened 3 weeks ago.

I was walking in PI, waiting for my friends to come as they were still stuck in the office. We were about to watch a movie in the new PI and Ex extension. 

Then a man approached me. With him was a kid, not older than 10. The man wore a shirt, with red and white box pattern. Cheap. On his back was a shabby backpack. His hair was parted in the middle, and the type you found in chinese markets selling fishes and vegetable or fruits. Simple. Poor. And yeah, he was Chinese. Definitely.

“Ko, Ko, could you do me a little favor” his voice trembled a little as he got closer. So close I thought he wanted to kiss me. His voice sounded like Fear. Desperate. Trouble. And of course he spoke Indonesian not English.

I stared at his face, keeping my distance, avoiding eye contact. Hypnotism crossed my mind.

“My child and I,” I looked at the child. Ordinary. Cheap shirts too, “we just came from Surabaya.” Still the quiver. Surabaya! Ha! That explained the choice of clothing, maybe!?

“I just got kicked by my mother-in-law from our house. I came here with my son.” The kid again. Still avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Trouble. I smelled money. “I was looking for a friend who worked in Gucci,” (I thought, was there a Gucci shop in PI? Yes, I supposed), “to look for his help. But when I reached there apparently he no longer worked there. Now I couldn’t get any help and I had nobody here. I just wanted to go back to Surabaya now. But I had no money.”

RIGHT? MONEY! “How much do you need?” I put on my cool face, which some thought as heartless expression. I wish.

“The bus costs 60thou per person. Please ko, we are truly in a pinch right now”

“so you need 120thou for you and your kid?”

“yes… Please… We just want to go back to Surabaya now. We can not afford anything here. All’s left is for our meal. Please Ko”

Damn. He had to bring a kid. I said “sorry, I don’t have that much” (A LIE lah, don’t underestimate the content of my wallet. LOL)

“Oh I see. Never mind Ko. Never mind. SOrry to bother you. I won’t disturb you no more”

He moved away. Every sentence he delivered was filled with quiver, as if he was in the brink of tears and tomorrow was the end of the day.

He brought the kid to the escalator railing and just stood there. I stood at where I was the whole time and watched them. They didn’t move. The kid. SHIT. How cruel was I to let that kid suffer if his words were true. And they were just standing there, not “hunting” for another victim, looking into space as if they had given up hope.

I started to move away. And then I couldn’t. My humanness. Damn this weak side of me. How could I carry a Guess jeans in my bag and not spare a 120thou to help these people. Even though if he lied, karma would work itself, right? So I came to him and handed him 150thou. “Use it” and I went away. He said something about blessing and something and kept thanking me before the distance set us apart.

I walked away feeling like a saint.

THAT, until I walked at Grand Indonesia three weeks after and I saw both of them again. I wished I were Devil instead and made a satay out of them.

Fate had little things to joke on people. This time it’s telling me: “Look, I taught you many lessons and you never changed. Fooled and fooled again”

They still wore the same clothing. Surprising. Another joke of life.

They went up an escalator that I was about to take. I rerouted. I finished my appointment in an eyeglass store and went to look for drinks. Another joke. We saw each other in the end. 

And he dared calling at me! “Ko, KO, please ko” from some distance away.

I glanced at him sharply, and then the kid and then walked away leisurely, ignoring them as if his sound was just a clap of the sandals on the floor. 

He kept calling to me several times. I never confronted him, never looked back.I am a saint, right?

Actually, he called, “KO, Ko, maaf ko… Kooo, Maaf ko.” again and again.

Now, ‘Maaf‘ can mean several things. It could be a word to be used to seek for attention in super polite term. It could also be a word to express guilt. Did he even remember me and asked for forgiveness? Did he still have the thing called humiliation? Or he just targeted me as a next fresh victim? I didn’t bother to find out. 150thou was charity. The rest was up to the God, Angels, and Demons.

GET A JOB when you still had two feet to walk with, two hands to work with, three weeks to live on, and a full brain to think with! LOW!

The UnderWear

This was after the man with the kid incident.

As I walked up an escalator, a man and a girl walked down at the other side of mine. I always regard GI as one of a high class malls in Jakarta. Its location across Plaza Indonesia only emphasizes that.

Generally, the East Wing of GI is of higher class than its counterpart of West Wing. But even as I walk in the West Wing at that time, it is inexcusable excuse when I saw the man, wearing ONLY underwear walking down the escalator and easily having conversation with a smile on his face! UNDERWEAR!

I didn’t mean that he wore underpants. But an underwear tee-shirt, the one we used for the night, or when lay low at home, or one we saw jobless old men wore while they were sipping bad coffee and conversing bad topic in a run-down waroeng. Even my sleeping underwear looked better than that!

If the brand had been Pierre-Cardin, or CK, or D&G, or whatever, an underwear might look cool. But a swan-brand underwear??? And the kind you find after being through hundreds of washing and looked so worn-out? The fabric was falling apart thin. And the emblem of swan brand in red letters and swan-picture still remained a little in the right bottom side corner… A new one would probably costs less than 15 thou, and he had to wear a worn-out one, to walk on one of the grandest malls? IN daylight? Among the soft golden light of the mall? And with a smile? 

And I was so awed by his underwear I didn’t even have time to look at his pants. Hm maybe loss of humiliation and universal rights to express oneself freely (and don’t forget, cheaply!) are the next step to human fashion.. or human evolution. Let’s loose the shirt and wear bikinis to the mall instead. Horrrayy.

Huh, I should have taken pictures of him, but how would I dare. He wore an underwear to Grand Indonesia! That’s obvious that he has more guts than me!! I wouldn’t dare take the chance of getting into trouble with that kind of man! Geez.