Rudy Yuan’s Streak oF BluE

These last few days have come with disappointment. Lots of them. I can’t even start with one to tell because as I recall one, many others will pour in my thoughts and my head is crammed with all the frustation.

Have you ever walked in the dark before? Not figuratively, but literally. Once in a while we would experience it, like when the electricity was cut out and we had to make our ways in the dark through the furniture in our houses. No matter how familiar our house was to us, we just couldn’t help knocking at things. We were so accustomed to light and clarity that once we lost it we acted like bat in daylight.

I walked through the darkness, literally, today.

It all started with me waking late this afternoon. My night shift was calling my senses to wake up but my logical brain denied any muscles movement on the consideration that there was nothing to do anyway. I thought, why the haste? So I slept on a little.

That was how I missed the crew change truck. The sky had gone bluish dark. No stars and moon were visible. They might have hid themselves behind the clouds..

The camp gave out its eerie glow into the penetrating darkness. Nothing could be seen passing through the lonesome road that laid silently beside the camp. The grass and bushes that bordered the road stood still in the dark, as if hiding their lifetime secret of watching us, mocking us.

There was no point in waiting the truck to come. So I decided to walk. With the novel “Doctor Zhivago” and my beloved iPod on one hand, and my helmet at the other, I paced forward.

The first stretch of the walk was easy. They had installed four high-power, high intensity lights at a pole on the back of the yard beside the campsite. Their light shone its surrounding, stripping anything bare to sight in darkness.

As I threw my glance on the light source, it blinded me, and the background shrunk surprisingly into coal dark. At that time, dark and light existed complement to each other at the same time, like two forces embracing one the other rather than repelling one another. Like two lovers longed to be together, their own respective borders marked the long awaited convergence of their skins. So harmonious yet so contrast.

I paced on.

The bushes rose to the heights of my shoulder on both sides of the road. As the light pole fell behind me as I walked on, the ray became less intense. The bushes’ shadows reached into the road, like limbs trying to put a gentle stroke on me.

My own shadow was stretching long, reaching the bushes on the other side. In my imagination, I could see dark creatures roamed about among the dense bushes… awaiting my shadow to fall on them. They would pull it, my shadow that was. My whole being would be sucked, as they feasted on my shadow, throwing thrilling excited shrill that vibrated the cold night air. I tried to avoid glances at my shadow.

The remaining paling light of the lightbulbs that still survived the distance shone on the strange lonely trees that stood like sentries in the middle of the bushes. No other trees were around them, like they were the last survivors of long fought battle. At daylight, the trees were covered with big leaf vines that had covered it from bottom to the top. At night, it was standing taller than usual. The darkness had enhanced its grandeur. The vines had turned into their majestic robe, shining in pale glow. It was like seeing a forest king, stepping into the meadow, ready to jump on its adversaries. I dared not look at it too long. I didn’t want to be his enemy.

So I looked at the road.

It was a gravel road, full of dust, small stones, and irregular surfaces. It was ordinary country side road in the daylight. But what remaining light there was, had transformed its face. At surfaces where the light had reached through, it shone with pale gray dullness. But at surfaces where the light had failed, it turned into pitch black shadow. The black spots were everywhere among the pale surface. They looked like a deep water pool. Walking through it, I kept expecting I would step into water and made a splash, but all it was just shadow. I couldn’t help thinking I might fall into its terrifying depth. And I kept bracing myself as I walked on, as if I was expecting to fall though I knew it was impossible.

And then the last ray fell behind me. All ahead was darkness. The road, bordered with trees on right side and meadow of bushes and occasional lonely tree groups on the left, looked gloom. I treaded on.

Jason Mraz’s I’m Yours was playing for the uncounted times from my iPod. I had been trying to get the feel of this song. But as I walked halfway, I realized I hadn’t been listening to the song at all. I had been ignoring my hearing senses and heightening my vision instead.

It was not completely dark, and I could see the outline of the road. The dark bushes were cramming with the whirring of grasshopper. The sound of my boot grinding the gravel added to the merriment. But the sound was giving nothing but restlessness to my soul.

In the darkness like this, where the road seemed to stretch much much longer and the sign of its end was not visible at all, hope and merriment were the last thing my heart could come up with. Standing there, in the middle of the road, I felt consumed. My red coverall lost its color. The dark trees were taking away my senses. I dared not open my iPod as I feared its glow would anger the thick darkness.

The whirring seemed to grow louder, contrastingly adding the intensity of the loneliness. That was when I realized my heart had beaten faster and the blood rushed to my head in gushing stream. It slowed me.

At times like these, fear would strike. It did not matter if I believed in ghost or not, in alien creatures, beasts, gods, whatever. I felt like I could vanish into the dark. In an instant. Just a snap, and I would melt into the darkness.

And fear for something might appear in frightening suddenness among the trees, or the bushes, attacking me, robbing me from all the dignity of humanness, ripping me off my soul. And the consciousness would still be there to witness the gory and the terror of it.

And fear. A horrible feeling to have. It was like a downward spiral. It was like dark matter. As you are caught even in the fringe of it, you are bound to be sucked deeper. Despair is a common companion. And they freeze all. It never gets better.

But it gets better sometimes.

I focused my mind on something else. I thought of happy moments and of other troubles of my life that needed sorting out. I focused on Jason Mraz’s melodious sound. I looked at the sky.

And it ebbed away. The fear receded to the corner of my brain.

A pair of light suddenly came from the turn ahead. A truck. Its penetrating light was a soothing sight. It cast away the loneliness and dismay. The darkness shrank in cowardness and I regained myself. Someone shouted my name from the passenger seat. I couldn’t see who it was, but the sound gave a notion that it was Marcus, a man not just big in sound but also in every part of his body, especially his belly. The truck passed me to different direction.

I reached the turn, and the road was turning from dark into pale gray. The rig was visible ahead. Its brilliant light shone penetrating into its surrounding darkness, sharing me a little bit of its courage and arrogance. I paced on and this time, sang along with Mraz, twising my tongue to follow his fast pronunciation. I reached the rigsite whole.

I am not religious, but this passage comes to mind

Psalm 23:4a

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me”

I had had the urge to write several days ago… But it all vanished by the time I experienced hadrships here in Seram… Yep, this is my third trip to this far far away island already.

I had spent all my week enjoying Jakarta. The traffic. The buildings. The malls. The food. The crowd. The heat. The city. 

It’s nothing like philosophical enjoyment, where one might go to old parts of the city and sip local beverages, chat socially and amiably with local residents about the city and its growth toward filthiness and about good old times. Not like that at all!

It’s simply my body and soul coming back to the civilization, and me feeling being part of the vibrant constant stream of life, of crowd, of friends, somehow, even though I spent time more at rigsite.

I came to achieve several things in this coming back. As the saying goes, you always lose something whenever you gain something. It’s called the Third Law of Mechanics by Newton. It’s action and reaction.

As many of you had known, I got myself a new haircut. I did plan to have my hair cut (since it was so annoyingly long already), but not that short as it is now. I just wanted to trim it a little. The hair-doer, who was completely gay in manner (and had tried to engage me in conversation so I worked out my charm of aloofness and he soon resigned any talkings to me), had apparently misunderstood and gave me a short style instead. I decided I liked it, since it was the most expensive haircut I had ever treated myself. Later, after close inspection, I did actually like it.

A friend said it looked pretty much like the style of a friend of mine. I observed a little more (now that tells you how much I like to look at myself at the mirror! haha), and it did show some resemblance. I decided mine was better than his (hahaha, sorry pal!). Yet since he had gotten such style longer than me, I did consult him for gel treatment. Now I was still experiencing with that.. (still with great result, I guess? hahahha)

The high event of things came at the end of my off-time, the great Friday. 

Friday came with a hint of heat (not so uncommon as it is loathsome since I still hadn’t found a rent-room with AC equipped within! and the heat literally melted my skin and all its enchantment).

Petra had made an appointment with me to go out on this day.

She had texted me saying she was wearing the turtleneck she bought previously at Zara at just [a very cheap price!! ;P]. So she said I had to wear my newly bought ZARA shirt too, the one that my S friend said looked like Mandarin Boyband (I corrected it from ‘HK boyband’ after her kindly comment on previous post).

So we set out to MOI. 

Petra was actually delighted to see me in this new kind of style.

And then we talked about how much we had transformed (and me transforming so so much more). We always nudged this topic somehow. Talked about how much we had spent on all these apparels and on those stored at home.

Me with my new hairstyle surely progressed the transformation I had been advancing.

I never cared for such things (apparels and stuffs) back in college. Jakarta and my salary had to have given me the influence to. I started to peek at the branded stores. I began to buy more expensive facial-foam. I started to complain about styles, looks, colors. I changed my diet. I read better books. I began to take notice of the fashion others were wearing, and judged them (”oh jeez, that man wears an Armani Exchange!” and “oh gosh he must do well enough to have that Guess!” and “oooh look at that fake GAP Polo…” ). It was badddd badddd attitude!

“Ahh… what a reproachful lifestyle” is what I might have said back in college towards such life. I was reproachful now and I couldn’t stop.

At least I didn’t fuss about how I looked here at the rig. And at least I still hadn’t reached the hyper metro lifestyle where man actually does pedicure, manicure, spa treatment, etc. Now, now, I wouldn’t say it is disgusting as a man’s lifestyle. I am just confirming, if I ever went there, I would have the excuse to say it’s transformation for my better. HAHA

So back to that Friday. I wore almost all new that day. New Zara, new Nike, new Lee-Cooper (which my friend had claimed it a fashion disaster. HAHA. At least that means my eyes hadn’t gone metro yet! But Petra and I did find it kinda not that good, but its color was so tainting our judgement so we decided to buy), and new underwear (I had done an underwear-shopping-spree to relieve my stress after I failed to look for an appropriate room with an AC equipped throughout the whole Setiabudi and Karet area), and new haircut, of course.

I felt like a brand new man. Coming out of the shell. And I didn’t know who I was. It was like looking at someone I never knew. But I liked him, this person that had returned my glance on the mirror… And I hated myself for it.

MOI turned out to be a disappointment. 95% of the stores were still closed. The Blitz were so deserted you could take a horse-ride around it full speed.

We moved our asses to Senayan City, and thus produced the famed photos that had gleamed my Facebook, Friendster, and YM profile.
We watched a movie that night, called Eagle Eye (starring Shia La Beouf). I’d give 8.772039379/10. Shia acted brilliantly like usual. The story line was easily guessed halfway. My high rating came from the fact that this movie had given me a constant blood rush almost throughout the movie length. 

From all the pictures we had taken, there was one I liked quite a lot. (This photo was thanks to faithful Mikael, who had patiently taken shots after shots of our trial poses. until we got the warning of not taking building photos from the security and moved away, embarrasingly). But this was blurred so it did not appear anywhere on Facebook or Friendster but here only..

We then moved to PS to meet our beloved Gadri. There was a SALE (quite big one, judging from the capitalized letter of ’sale’ I type in) in Metro. It was so full of people queueing and browsing the items. You could hardly move through the narrow lane of people and stuff. People were literally fighting and pulling hairs, trying to pull each other’s eyes out to grab the limited sale items. NOT TRUE lah of course!, but you could use a little imagination.

So Petra and I took a little creativity into play. We avoided the crowd and asked faithful kindly Gadri to come with us outside and took more photos! ahahhahaha. Here is the unpublished-anywhere result.

We tried several more poses, but my poor poor camera just couldn’t give out the right color and brightness.

Passers-by did actually STARE at us.

“Must be new just out of the mountain or remote village, these two, posing in place like this. And in such nice suits too, what a waste” is probably what they tought.

A western couple actually stopped on their track and looked at us before going on. Thinking maybe we were doing some pre-wed shots. wahhaha.

Well, looking at the photos, I did see myself change. A friend said I was getting more attractive (hahhaa, stop puking please, you’d ruin my blog). I told her it was just the effect of the expensive clothes. Never undermine the power of fashion!!

And the tragic part of my life this week: I lost my keys! I went home late at night that Friday with a flight to catch at coming hours, and found I had lost my key!! I went panic. I began calling hitman to unlock my keylock and put a note to bring gun in case he failed to picklock it. Not lah!

Luckily my landlady had the spare and spared me the angry bellow of my boss if he found out I had missed my flight…

The key holder was a gift from someone (hope you read this and accept my apology for losing it :P).

It was a Disney’s Mickey Mouse key holder (the one on the back)… And I liked it a lot… 

And here the photo I took at Ambon’s airport baggage claim hall.

I could not believe my eyes. I had never seen the airport so crowded and hectic before. And look at all the baggages. I actually saw people carrying lots of bags like ones of Banana Republic, Guess, Nike, etc. And even LV scarf and hand bag. Oh jeez, this sale season had to have influenced people as far as Eastern Indonesia! And talk about transformation!

As some of you might know, I am right now working on Seram Island (again) (or it is probably more like ‘idling’ than ‘working’ as I can still write this thing!) .

This rig I am working at right now is the same as the previous one when I first came here, of which name is GreatWall-93 (yeap, it’s Chinese rig).

Just like usual when I was assigned to day-shift, I woke up early in the morning (0530 Eastern Indonesia time, when you people in Jakarta would surely still be sleeping sound, or probably sounding like snoring pig, or maybe scratching your balls something… LOL), then took a bath, drank a glass of milk, and I was ready to fight for the day to come.

The camp where I lived was located some 1 km away from the rig.

When I reached the outer side of the camp I didn’t notice any transportation trucks available today (these trucks usually carried crews from and to the rig). But the air was so crisp that morning that I couldn’t stand the urge to walk the mile. So I did!

The sky was not as blue as the day before, a sign of eminent downpour in later hours… But the cloud was not that dark too. A good sign. We would most likely have chilly cloudy day today.. (not that it mattered, since we would huddle inside our trailer unit anyway, with the AC blowing, would it be sun or storm outside).

It was not some hundred meters away from the rig that I noticed its scenery. A blend of nature and industrialization. hehe. A rig, of course, is not industralization. So let’s say, nature and machinery.hehe

stand tall, stand proud!

Hm, I had hoped there was a hint of sun glow on the cloud, to give it orangy puffy color. But I am not God and this was good enough to bubble up my spirit for the day’s boreness, I guess. And I had darken the light to let the trees and rig fall into dark shadows. But it didn’t give the effect I wanted. haha, not good at photography!

The rig might cause me more work later I probably didn’t look forward to, but meanwhile, just let it be the optimism I needed. A hint of happiness and refreshing scenery would probably just be the right ingredients for smooth sailing of my day. For you who are stuck with unpleasant work, look for your own optimism and cheer up!

PS:

I got another photo of this rig with a hint of rainbow and orangy puff. Try here!

Hm, the photos might be brighter, sharper, and surely look better if I had taken them with SLR (anyone wants to donate? hhehe). I only used my pocket Digital Sony Camera (hence short for DSC, i guess, which was used as the file name for many sony-cam captured photos) for these, so let them out of quality judgement. hehehe.

Enjoy your day.

Little more PS: somebody is having birthday today. Wish you happy birthday, Meg (hey this is special edition loh haha)!

My watch now shows 0515 in the morning, indicating that my shift change is gonna come soon, at 0600. yet the clock in my laptop stubbornly shows 0315 still, giving me the sense that i live in two different worlds.

I do somehow live like in two different worlds. i’m currently working on an island near the far east side of indonesian archipelago. all my true being is here. but as my lappie connects me to my friends, my world, through the internet, my consciousness is dragged to different time zone and place, to where the time in my laptop applies, the beloved familiar western indonesia. i am yanked in and out of the two worlds whenever i have to change my focus on different things.

anyway, traveling to ambon several days ago had brought a lot of new things. i’ll start from the beginning.

day H-2: the coordinator gave me a call, while i was sitting in my unbearably hot room, listening to the music, and working on some muscles (which regretfully i still don’t have much to show). hhaha
as usual, his tone of speaking was annoyingly cheerful and high-pitched (one told me once that he even thought my coordinator was a girl when they were talking through the phone for the first time. huh!). “bla bla bla… Rudy, you’re going to Ambon the day after tomorrow ya, i’ll inform you about the flight…bla bla bla”. okay, i thought, he had just ruined my day. the idea of going to ambon was not encouraging. i’d never been there, but the place was so isolated, so far away, that only a lost bird would end up there… hahahah, of course not! anyway, i lost the appetite to shop that day! which was a good thing, huh?! i spent enough! =p

day H-1: i found out my flight was gonna be at 0130 in the mid of the night. damn! what stupid moron would fly at such time of the day?!?!

day H: garuda plane didn’t fly to ambon, so i had to take lion air in the freaking 0130 flight. lion air domestic flight meant i had to check in in terminal 1A in the airport.

the terminal was gloomy, all dark and kind of out of maintenance, but surprisingly active at 2300. a person came to me and asked if we could share the baggage, since he carried quite a lot. he quickly lost his hope on me once he tried to lift my baggage. pity him.. and pity me, since apparently my own baggage was overweight! damn, my lug was 16kg already (what the hell did i put inside?? let’s see, G-string couldn’t be that weighty right? :D) plus a box i carried for the job which weighted 6kg. damn, i tried to charm my way to the operator (quite a handsome boy… haahahha), and he gave me 50thou discount. hmmm, come to think of it, maybe he was more like pitying me than felt charmed by me. haaha..

anyhow, i went directly to the designated gate, hoping i would find some coffee shop to kill my time along the hall. alas, it was not terminal 2 anyway. all the shop’s closed and not even a coffee shop in sight.

the waiting room was even darker and gloomier. some people had been waiting in there. a couple of teenagers sleeping on the chair and kidding to each other (i made a quick glances, no beautiful girls or handsome boys… not interested ahahaha). i made my way to the other waiting room, picked a chair near the far end and got my ipod out. there were also several men wearing cheap jackets waiting. not interested.
i assumed those were all the passengers going on the 0130 flight since like i said, what moron would fly at the time of the day. the god quickly showed that my thought was just nothing but a mere dust in his plan. just an hour before the flight, a mass of people began to flow into the waiting room. oh geez, two waiting rooms were soon full of people. i’m not the only moron, apparently! hahah. it turned out later that the plane was full, except for the exec class.

in all our boredom (everybody was bored and dulled, i guess), some were sleeping, staring at others (including me. it’s interesting to see what people do when they’re bored. u might stare to each other until someone gives up. try! ghawhahwa), listening to music, playing with their beloved ones (i did too, with my beloved ipod), chatting (some were noisy as hell), and so on.

Then suddenly came some people marching into the waiting room, which were the pilot, co-pilot, and the stewardesses. Gosh, they somehow were glowing in the gloom as they walked in, casting soft, fresh, and warmth light to the dull passengers. I bet every waking eyes were following them, as if greeting their idols. well, the stewardesses were little bit pretty. They flashed their slender thighs through the narrow slit of their gowns while walking, making some eyes flashed dazzlingly. I conclude that Lion Air’s stewardesses were indeed better than Garuda’s. Garuda’s were pretty much all old and unjuicy. hahha

anyhow, the flight itself was a torture! it was hard to sleep since the plane’s chair was damn straight and we couldn’t do anything to lower it down. i had to slouch my body and put my head rest in a weird angle, giving me a pained neck with my every occasional waking up. damn, i hate everything about that night flight.

when i landed in ambon, my body was a little sore and i didn’t even feel sleepy anymore but was just annoyed. damn. the ambonese airport was small, with many turns along the narrow hallway to get to the baggage claim. and the baggage rolling conveyor belt was short. by the time i got there, people had crowded the whole available section of the conveyor, from the tip to the tip. it was a mess of people with different clothings, belongings, hairstyles, ages, ethnicities, and so on. just like a mass of sand pulled over by a magnet bar they crowded the baggage conveyor. i gave up, i had to wait on the sofa (thank the building designer for this!) until some of them cleared out.

i got my baggage, went out and i had to anticipate another flight! but in the meantime, i noticed that the airport was facing mountainous geography, which was still covered with the greenness of forest. it was raining that day, a thin fog settled like a blanket over the top of the forest, giving it a cooly look. it somehow brought back the memory of mountains in Berastagi in N.Sumatra i used to visit sometimes. a chilly sensation went through my spine at the image of it, even though i was sure there was no wind passing by. i missed Berastagi.

Yes, i had to get to another flight afterwards. i checked myself in in the counter and waited. the plane came some hours later. it was horribly small, just an about 20 seaters plane. fyuh, this was my another first. it was like a toy plane if you compared it to the usual plane, looked like it was made entirely of paper and carton. i went inside and chose a seat. at least the seat was more comfy.

the plane then took off. the wings fluttered horribly or maybe it was just my imagination from my lack of sleep. as soon as it was in the air, though, i quickly decided to sleep, no matter how deep my curiosity was at that time to watch the scenery below. we were flying along the shore, i guess, and it would be a splendid scenery down there, seeing crystal blue water came contact to the sandy white shore and farther, the green virgin forest. it would be like a painting burst with color symphony and the splendidness harmony of nature. but i was to tired to care. i shut my eyes.

the heavy thud of the plane’s wheel on the rocky landing lane woke me up. it was not even an airport, just a strip of lane made up of white rocks cutting through what appeared to be a field of bushes. a small shade consisted some working rooms and enough space for parking the plane laid on the side of the landing lane. i noticed that just like the landing lane in ambon airport, this one lane also led directly to the sea. i thought that if the plane fails to take off, at least it will fall on soft element like the sea water. but come to think of it, the water is not a soft element when it comes to crashing from high above or sideway friction. it has what they call the surface tension (i forget the scientific name. well, i think it is this hahah), which can make the water surface be as hard as steel. it what makes the stone leap when you throw it sideways across the surface of the water. but nevertheless, at least you are not hitting some hardy ground or plants. hmmm. not making sense.

we all gathered in the hangar-shade to wait for next means of transportation. i had given heads up that we would be riding on the back of a truck, with the wind tossing our heads and the sunlight hitting our face. it’s not time for metaphor, but the thought of riding on the back of the truck for how many hours i couldn’t know was not a comfortable idea. but what could i do? i just waited.

they unloaded our baggage, i took mine, and then the transport came. it was a minibus! thank god!

well, what came afterwards was not much to tell. we went to the nearby small town called bula to buy some supplies. the town was so small we hardly encountered any other vehicles. the ride to the rigsite was better than the one i had been in south sumatra. in south sumatra, all you could see was the coconut or rubber plantation. it was boresome. but here, you could enjoy the openness of the steppa, wide green field filled with chest high bushes and occasional trees. on the background, the mountain rose, with the trees meeting the low clouds, creating quite a relaxing scenery. it’s not breathtaking, but somehow it comforts you down.

hm, overall, i really didn’t enjoy the trip. but new experiences made it all worth to try. just don’t do it too often, i say to myself…