vietopians and tatorism

like two vietopians lost in a vietnamese restaurant,
one was ben, and the other one was me,
lost ourselves in delicious noodle soup served in large bowls.

he fancied seafood; i beef.
i quenched my thirst with ginger ale; he bintang.

but soon, oh soon, we arrived at a same conclusion.
we sealed the night with a dark decafeinated taste of 'tatorism',
a term i refer to the drink from tanah toraja, celebes island.

cikini street jakarta in jakarta has both heavens.
for friends and for the good time.

home by summer

back in my hometown. feel the familiar environment again. and ramadan the fasting month is here. i am happy to had a small reunion with closest relatives. this is a time i really treasure. before i left jakarta, i intentionally let my schedule free. i didn't fill my days with appointments. in that way i have the liberty to sleep. to read or not to read. to stay away from the heat on the street. to chat with anyone about any subject anytime. and to say 'yes' to spontaneous invitations offered by aviv.

well, tomorrow at five in the morning i will be seating in the train again, going from bandung back to jakarta. i will most likely sleep during the 3 hours journey. and then maybe i will dream about home. about people i met in days long ago. about moments, events, places, well you can tell. another week of work is ahead of me. monday to friday, with some more in between. without lunch breaks.

yesterday morning, on the way from jakarta to bandung, i sat on the right hand side seat in the train. from around 6.30 to 8.00 am, i saw pretty landscape of java island outside my window. with paddy fields, green and yellow; hills and mountains; rivers and villages. at sunrise they looked absolutely beautiful. i was grateful to see them. such picturesque composition of nature made me stay awake although i was tired and sleepy. i didn't want to miss a thing, steven tyler said. well, it was similar to my situation. accompanied by a stranger next to me, who listened to music from his ipod, i found the travel from jakarta to bandung yesterday was an enjoyable one.

unlike my habitual practice, i took a bus from the train station to my home. one of the slowest means of transportation in my hometown. but still, if i had another weekend like that, i would certainly do it again.

red and white

two days ago the republic celebrated its independence birthday. now it's sixty four years old. festivities could be seen throughout this week in jakarta. people, old and young, participates in commemorating the event. from where i work, you can easily hear bands playing on the streetsides. this office also arranged similar kind of music performaces, inviting local artists to invite us to sing, dance, laugh and share some light moments.

today, my friends and i went to watch a movie about history, war for independence of the republic. almost the entire seats in the theatre were taken by students from a number of high schools located near the theatre. seven of us couldnt find seats in a row; we scattered here and there. the storyline of the movie was simple. telling one part of a battle that took place in java island. the soldiers from the indonesian side were from different islands. different backgrounds. they united for a common goal. such story, i think, is a general theme of uniting a nation.

now this nation is sixty four years old. if it was a person, it would have grandchildren. but there is a lot more to do. the road to achieve the dreams of this nation is indeed a long one. red and white is the colours of indonesian flag.

girl from the north country

well, if you're travelin' in the north country fair, when the wind hits heavy on the borderline; remember me to the one who lives there. 

she once was a true love of mine.

well, if you go when the snowflakes storm, when the rivers freeze and summer ends; please see if she's wearing a coat so warm, to keep her from the howling wind.

please see for me if her hair's hang long, if it rolls and flows all down her breast, please see for me if her hair's hang long, that's the way i remember her best.

about a pair of shoes

dear shoes, may your road is long, and full of adventures.
stonehenge, the fourth of july, 2009.

jakarta at dusk

't feels like living in another life time, sitting here with botseu in his living room in rasuna tower. looking at the horison of jakarta city from the balcony in the twenty ninth floor. although i can't hear any noise, i sense that all the lives down there seem very vibrant, energetic. i see that clouds are grey and far away. the sky's not as blue as finnish flag, but that's all right. the wind isn't blowing either.

one by one the city light is switched on. i look outside again, the city is now listening to the sound from mosque minarets. they announce the call for the faithful to pray at dusk. and then there is a short silence after the muezzins' call. time to pray.

la maison ou j'ai grandi

the harbor lights were shining, the moon was at its high. the captain said, "thank god, we're home! we've drunk the barrels dry." the mizzen mast was shaken, and the lanterns all burned low, i'd never thought we'd make it, but we've twenty leagues to go. so blow your southern trades, and guide me safely to the shore, i'll never gonna sail the seven seas no more.

i don't want to miss the sand in my hair, the roll of the tide and the salt in the air. deep inside it's true, i'm a home loving man, comin' on home to you. i don't want to miss the wind in my eyes, the shimmerin' light when the seagull flies. lo, i've traveled far, i'm a home loving man, and home is where you are...

so here i am, back to the green house, bandung, la maison ou j'ai grandi.