 THE MERCY OF ONE NIGHT
I just moved to another different rented room on a different area code, again. This time to support my latest project. I decided that some process in life no matter how ordinary it will sound, are to be called projects. It made me more in focus, and it is the antithesis of the "where ever the flow will lead me"concept. Because, I haven't relish the benefit of it, all it did was shaping an amorphous future for me. That and total oblivion of what, where, who and when in my past. It's like you were injected too much toxic chemical in your body that you just can't remember what you did, the person you met, the thoughts you say out loud, the people you love, then waking up sober to find out that some one has invent a clock that can predict how many days left for you to live, you may find out that you are going to live for another 20 years. You sigh of relieve, but then you remember that you haven't travel the globe, yet, invent the new revolutionary art movement so that when you die you have your own statue in some park in the city. You haven't write the greatest most strikingly beautiful novel, which its witty lines are often quoted by everyone in the entire world. You haven't found the love of your life that you want to spend the next 20 years with. You haven't fight for a clean government and enjoy the fresh clean air of Central Jakarta. You haven't made a monumental movie that changes every ones life once they have seen it. You haven't give up your regrets and see why there are such thing called a sweet mistake. Hell, you haven't found who you are, yet.20 years is a short time, time is relative. And " where ever the flow will lead me "could be my excuse to not do the best that i can do.
I rented a room out of the 100 rooms available, it was in the back of a building that kids 10 to 18 years old have their afternoons extra course to perfect their grades in school, which was in the back of a pharmacy and a doctorÕs clinic. You can see the big sign 'Apotek Bundaran Pancoran' right besides the circle K, hey what do you know, I'll be hanging out at CircleK now. It was set in an area called Pancoran, just near that statue I so ignorantly not knowing of it's history though I had lived in this city for almost 20 years. Which I never thought of before, until some one asked me so, what's the story behind this statue?and I stare to spaces, as if flying alphabets will appear from no where and form words that will become sentences and a god damn explanations, but after 5 seconds of waiting I just said a lame I don't know
I needed to move because I need a strategic place between Tebet and Wijaya, I know that everyone who knows Jakarta will not agree with me, being this place called A strategic place between Tebet and Wijaya. Tebet, yes, of course, it is only a statue away, but Wijaya? that's more like two highway exits and one or two fly overs away.
But, I think I am into the idea of having a new adventure in a new place, more than anything. I have a home, my parents home, and that;s where I came to regroup. But being my age with my sort of job, I needed a place of my own, besides my parents house is just to far away from the center of all things. It is a bit of dilemma though, every time I decided to move out, because, I'm kind of the typical asian daughter, I worried about my parents, their health and well being, I wanted to be there for them, and evidently they have become more dependent on me and me being less dependent on them.
There is this office building just right beside my place, at night I could see the lights on their windows. And it is interesting to imagine of what goes on in the building, the 9th floor, the 12 floor, It's like I'm watching you watch over me feeling.
You see, I really don't bring any entertainment equipment to this room, I mean no TV, no Stereo. and it became just four walls surrounding me. I need the mercy of the night, tonight. and the night after that. If I can stop pushing people out of my life and start to let them in, then maybe I will take the night as it is. Full of light, apologetic to visual flaws, and most of all the anticipation for tomorrow. Make a toast, Salut!
I've seen it in movies before, I've read about it somewhere before, and I'm not quite sure what to think, now that it happens to me.
I rent this pricey room, somewhere in the centre of Jakarta. It was the 'it' room at first, it has relatively spacious space and it adapted that minimalist interior trend thing going on. It has orange blinds, and nice color mix. It has a spring bed. It has an inside bathroom with hot shower and a sitting toilet. It was perfect.
For a month, it was a real hacienda, go home from work, a little dizzy from the rain. Turn the radio on, something loud to cleanse my corporate filthy skin back to my self again, Oh Please, save my day, with some Stone Temple Pilots songs. Get in to the bathroom, not even wanting to close the door.. Freedom is when you can take a bath without closing your door. Turn on the shower tap, turn it to the left side, where the color red means hot. I can even wipe the mirror that were steamed by the hot air.
Then the house owner, clearly needed some fast money, take in a couple to the room next to mine. It was supposed to be girls only. And because the owner thought that they were nice religious ones, just because she wore jilbab, and they will go to heaven. Hey, but even nice religious people needs relaxation.
Oh, dear God.
I didn't even notice that the wall was so thin, all this time. Until the couple came in. I never seen them in person, and after what I had hear from their room, I don't want to ever see them.
At six in the morning, the husband decided to play his radio as hard as possible, and oh okay, six in the morning time to wake up anyway, listening to some cool tunes won't hurt. So, what do you think that he played out loud? I can stand Peter Pan at six in the morning, even that Kangen band.. But Dangdut remix was the one he chose to hear, and I'm very sensitive at mornings. I'm a nocturnal being, so having to wake up when the sun just show it self was not a happy moment ( Taking for granted the sunlight and enthusiasm of a new day? Moi?) And I am also depended on my morning tunes. I need good music, to start my day. If I woke up to a good insightful music, than it means I could get through the day. If, example, I woke up to Velvet Underground's Rock 'N Roll, then it would be my pill for the day. All those annoying people who complain that I sit too much on the chair facing the monitor screen, and thinks that I refused to enjoy the office's exiting vibrating social gossips when they know that they a minute ago, ordered me to create an award winning design solution in just one day, just because they forget that the deadline is tomorrow. These people will not break me down.. No... because I drank the right pill this morning.
But what happen if you woke up with A dangdut remix beat? Every song have the same beat but with different melodies. Sometimes if you can move pass your personal taste and listen to the lyrics, it could be extremely hilarious, forget about the deep cheesy words of a regular love song, dangdut’s are blunt, descriptive like hell, and on your face. Something that obviously too hard for me to digest on six in the morning, for sure.
Think that's not severely damaging?
Even religious people have sex. And they do it. Night and day. Whenever they want to. I wasn't sure what I was hearing, at first. But, it sounds like they are having sex. It's not wildly loud, we're not talking about those porn movies, I mean for God sakes, we are talking about religious people here. They do it quietly, but it's audible, sometimes it's a woman moaning. Sometimes I could hear their bed moving. Sometimes it's a woman nearly shout, scream, I don't know. It's disturbing. The wall is too thin to handle that kind of activity, you get it?
Sometimes I just turn my radio out loud, so they would get the idea, that the wall is thin, hence they would stop doing the thing that they do, the dangdut remix and the sex. The dandgdut remix stopped, or at least he had change the schedule to the afternoon, when I'm not around. But the sex didn't. Oh, okay, it is basic human needs.. but I mean, the wall is thin, dude! Can't they have a little sympathy to an innocent twenty something single girl? Don't they realise that they are damaging my mental well being. I have a bipolar tendency and you're having an audible sex? Can't you find ways to do it in mute?
Should I find some bloke and do the same thing in my room, so they would get the message? I doubt it. I would be the one who get thrown out of my room. I mean, I'm not wearing any religious attributes and theoretically the imaginary bloke is not my legal couple, The owner won't want to be paid with dirty money from future hell resident like me. Oh, unless the bloke is someone famous, internationally famous like Peter Petrelli from the Heroes series. Oh, wait.. he's a character in TV. I mean, the guy who played Peter Petrelli.. Milo Djflksomething , wait. No, He's not that famous here. Ooo... a football player.. Both religious and infidels like football. Let's see. The British ones, Stevie G ! Maybe not.. I can't understand a word he's saying. He needs to watch My Fair Lady ( it wouldn't matter if we are actually doing it, no language barrier can stop repressed physical needs).
I don't know if I should get therapy for this.. I am damaged, Corrupted. How should I cope with this mental baggage? It's like a post earthquake trauma, you can still fill the quake, after it's gone. You know it's in your head, but you can't tell the difference between the real quake or it's just your head. It's the same thing. When soon, after I move out from this place to a nice serene environment in the South Of Jakarta, I will still hear noises, not sure that it's real or it's just in your head, then you put your ear on the wall, like stupid, for sure. See, the damage you've done? Is there any way I can sue them for damaging my mental well being ? These days you can sue anything just to get big paycheck. I mean, there's an old woman who sued MacDonalds, because the tea was too hot that her tongue was in trauma. The word S is something that she cannot pronounce very well now. She won, get paid.
I don't want to face them now. The Couple. I mean, there's thing called the theatre of imagination, all normal human have it in their system. And some have trouble taming the imagination. What if, they are not that pretty to imagine about? I mean when they are doing it, it's easier to slide away from the horrific event, if I imagine perfect bodies collied to in each other arms ( OH SHIT! Where did that thought came from?) Rather then imagining not so perfect bodies move awkwardly, like seeing your parent's having sex. It's an ugly few, but the more you try to erase that from your brain, the more you remember it. So, surely I do not want to see what the couple looks like. But, rest assure that I will be moving out of the busy, polluted, jam packed streets, noisy Kwitang area to a more serene livable environment in the south of Jakarta. I’ll be missing the easy access to many comfortable hang out places like cafe Au Lait, Bakoel Coffee, random street vendor at Sabang, Taman Ismail Marzuki, or adventurous shopping in Pasar Baroe and Pasar Senen, Cheap Book Hunting in Kwitang, the foods are dangerously delicious ( I never asked if they had any pork element in it, better not to know?) The Old City was fascinating, that’s for sure. But to have somewhere to sleep and bath in that area? Unless you live in a posh real estate or luxurious apartment then you just have to deal with the hustle and bustle of Central Jakarta. Including the sound that you really don’t want to hear from the room next door.
Turn left or right, stop or go, the answer of a question, the unexpected effects of a question, say, do you want to go some where,... now? Tick tock tick tock
Being swept away by the charismatic combination of life, emotions, the simplest things that pops into my mind every now and then, meanings behind everything that become objects in our life, rediscover my world, my reality, my dreams, all collide into one big messy bowl of a melancholy attack. It happens quite frequently, leaving you paralyze, knowing the bigger picture of all things that goes on. All you can do is just feel and hope that time goes easy on you while you stand still and everything else move forwards. Sounds like what you will experienced if you consume drugs or ganja? I think my brain just behave that way naturally, maybe because when I was three I fell and got stitches on my scalp, and thus something in my brain just go short circuited. Don’t be fooled by calm surfaces, people!
Things do happen in an expected way, pick a juncture from your past and you know it will lead you to another one. Like juxtaposed picture, we all are a product of somebody else’s action. What? You asked, what happen to free will? We all just a product of somebody else’s free will? Thus my free will effects you, direct or indirectly. Somebody else’s free will to go to see the National Monument had made me take that old beaten up lift, hold my breath and when we reach 137 meters above the ground, I say,“ Hallelujah, thanks for your free will, that made me come up here”
The National Monument was one of those things you ignore just because you have live in Jakarta for such along time, a part of the scenery you see frequently, a part of your memory, a part of the history that your teacher teaches you in school, it was there all the time, a part of Soekarno’s plan to build the rightfully Indonesian character through monumental landmarks. A treasure to be admire, but mostly a reminder of a specific time that proposed a specific idea of a nation.
Quoted from Virtual Tourist site Its construction began under Soekarno’s regime in the beginning of the 60’s but completed during the Soeharto’s regime on 1975. It stands for the people's determination to achieve freedom and the crowning of their efforts in the Proclamation of Independence in August 1945. The 137-meter tall marble obelisk is topped with a flame coated with 35 kg of gold. The base houses a historical museum and a hall for meditations.
The National Monument was only a short walk away from the National Museum, in which I regularly visit for inspiration, so to finally walk in the square park, and rediscover this landmark after so many years of ignoring it, was a bit overwhelming. As a citizen of the city, all of the sudden being reminded of a certain kind of form nationalism from the past. A time which freedom still taste blood, tears and glory.
On early November, the three of us, I, your narrator, my niece who recently had her master on biology, and a new friend from India who lives in Singapore went to the Medan Merdeka Area, an old area in Jakarta that most of the government ministries reside. The Indian had a 9.00 p.m flight, so he and my niece decide to go for some quick tour. I wasn’t planning to come, because one have to go to work at Monday, you know. I had this important meeting at one, in which my entire carrier depended on. The Indian asked me if I want to join them, and I raised my eyebrow ‘ Do I not look like a person who had a job, so as to accompany you at Monday will be all right?’ oh, okay, so I wore jeans to work, that kind of give an idea of unemployment, I guess.
Fifteen minutes later the big boss canceled the meeting, and pusponed it to tomorrow. I felt like a warrior with my bamboo assault weapon, who is already standing by in my position and waiting for Bung Tomo’s speech about replacing the Dutch’s flag with a red and white flag in the year of 1945. I want Blood on my hands! I spent a week without sleep and drink to much caffein for this! ‘ Oh , well, having this already pumped up adrenalin in my body made me offer my self as the unofficial guide, because the Indian is, well he lived in Singapore, and my niece lived in Bandung. So, the free will of people around me forced me to take an action. I can still called it my own free will, since I chose to go to the Center of Jakarta rather then go back to my rented room at the South Jakarta and go extremely hyperactive because I drank to much coffee.
The Park that surrounds the National Monument was Jakarta’s version of New York’s central park. We should have more of these Public Parks, and not convert every available land as a shopping center with palm trees. At that moment, as I stare into the greens, and has this conversation about the River Ganges, most of the Hindu India still believes that no matter how dirty the river is, it is perceived sacred, holly and clean. Evan some of them wants their body to rest there when they die. Imagine dead people floating around on the same river that the living people washes their body with.
What was in the back of the people’s mind back then, when the monument first finally erected? Proud, astonished, full of hopes for the future of the republic, blind optimism, during those years of building the monument from the early 1960’s to the mid 1970’s, through another bloody clashes. CIA finally opened their classified file on Indonesia during those years.
Soekarno’s political decision of NASAKOM, Abbreviation of Nasional-Agama-Komunis ( Nationalist-Religion-Communist) trying to put those ideology together in one Nation, made a lot of people in and out of the country worried, that Indonesia would fall to the dark side ( Communist) with China and The Soviet Union. So, something must be done, said the hands that played the political game. Hence, the Communist Party in Indonesia started a movement the Indonesian historian agree on calling it Gerakan 30 September ( The September 30th Movement), It movement included killing all the top Generals that refused to join the group. The next day, the country declared the state of emergency, And guess who is in charge of stabilizing the situation? Soeharto. A few years later, Soekarno gave a mandatory to Soeharto to take over the Presidency position with a letter that till now became a controversy because of its legitimation.
In my history books, it was never written that after the state declared that the Communist party was a dangerous group, many people’s life were tragically ended. The state captured all of the accused people without a trial and put them in exile, mostly in Buru Island, where Pramudya Ananta Toer, one of Indonesia’s great author, lives for years. My parents were in their adolescent years when it happens, they witnessed, how people kill other people because the assumption that they are communist. That was not in my history book. Civilian acts in their own judgement, ending people lives just like that, no trials, just because they assume the victims are related to someone that someone said was related to a member of the communist party. That was not in my history books, of course it was not, he who have the power, controls the history.
Many innocent people years later had to be secluded and taken away their rights as a citizen, They are marked targets, because even in their identity card, the state gave them sign that they are communist. It’s similar to when the Nazi gave the Jew the triangle. They cannot get a good education, good jobs, cannot vote, the stigma. The state always indoctrinated us with “ Beware the hidden danger of Communist” even when corruption has become more dangerous and threatening then the ideology we still sing along with that cunning mantra.
“ Beware of the vivid danger of Corruption”
At the bottom of the Monument resides the National Heritage Museum that allow us to here the first President of Indonesia giving one of his powerful speeches. “ Jangan pernah meninggalkan sejarah ...” “ Never ever desert your history “ I Think Soeharto knows his people pretty well, we are a nation that tend to always suffer from history amnesia. The lesson was never taken,because we failed to learn from past mistakes.
Indonesia, Jakarta, up on this landmark, another melancholy attack, The south, east, west and north, it makes sense seeing it as a whole, not as a separate area. This metropolitan of ours, dusty, broken down, and yet an optimism arise, amidst the traffic jams? amidst the lousy city plan? Up here, I just felt like, maybe it is not to late to change Jakarta, make it more human, make it more livable, somehow, someway. Maybe we can still take this ship wreck and make it to the shore.
A long time ago, when I had my first trip to the monument, I was 10 years old, my first field trip, so many differences, are we moving forward or are we moving backwards? Will my children in the future will have the same emotion as I had? Or this legacy will not have the same respected atmosphere, because in the future the history will all be rewritten? Freedom take for granted.
 | Lesson | Feb 19, '08 4:41 AM
for everyone |
If you somehow can make a full engaging moment, where you easily talk about everything unimportant that has everything to do with you. Like the top 5 movies, top 5 music, top 5 things to do on Sunday morning, mine is 1. sleep 2. Sleep 3. SleEp 4. sLeeP and 5. SleEp. I'm waiting for that moment to come.
I wish I was simple. 2 and 2 is never just 4 with me. I remember when I was still in school, Math is supposed to be exact science, right? but, I was questioning all the equations, ignoring the fact that a building could not be build without the exact measurements. But, in real life human relationship, you can only throw hypothesis formula of human interaction.
There's a large stack of self improvement book, all pretentious with its pop psychology formula. I could never get through reading them. I like to take those psychology test that kind of reveals your some what personality buy comparing your deep needs of attention with the kind of holiday you would rather have. Beach, Mountain, etc. You know. Are your glass half full or half empty? But books like 8 Effective ways to be a better person, or 24 steps to be a good leader, 5 easy steps to be popular, it could never hold my attention long enough. By the time it starts to tell me what I am supposed to do in a certain situation, I just drop it. Because I have a lousy will power? no strong motives to change for the better? A smart ass refusing a good advise?
Most of the things that has deep impact in my character growth came from anywhere but self improvement books. Which can be quite a contradiction because I do like taking those pop psychology test, kokology, test that determines if you are sanguine or melancholy.
I just think that whatever my problem might be, It won't be solved easily by flipping the pages until I find the specific chapter that tells the easy solution. Okay, so people have a pattern in their characters and how they behave,you group them in psychology terms like the music industries labeled different kind of music, so you could easily find away to deal with different stereotypes of people. But, We are talking about people here.
Most of the lessons I had, didn't came from a self improvement books. It came from the real world, real people, some of it came from art that imitates life, art that tells the story of humans life, the literature, the movies, the music. I remember the lines in Nick Hornsby's High Fidelity " What came first, the music or misery? Did I listen to music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to music? Do all those records turn you into a melancholy person? People worried about kids playing guns, and teenagers watching violent videos, we are scared that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands-literally thousands- of songs about broken hearts and rejection and pain and misery and loss. But I do know that they've been listening to the sad songs longer than they've been living the unhappy lives"
Injected by the concept of finding your true love makes a really gruesome pressure. Every body is telling us about the pain that comes from the process of in and out of love . If Love is pain then we all are masochist. Because we need to feel happy in love,you suffer lost so devastating that you need to feel happy in love again.
The default steps in life, I once found this interesting book, I forget the title. It's one of those arty-witty book, like' 20 steps surviving a night with a horny platonic male best friend' with all the hilarious insightful visual and verbal illustration of the steps. It's a mockery to all those self-help books, those 8 Effective ways to Be A better person of the genre.
This one is about the default steps in human life, assumably at the age 12 you will finally discover that you are either a girl and a boy .
And you know it's trouble, trouble, trouble ! if you;
a. Think that you are a girl inside a boys body
b. Think that your are a boy inside a girls body
c. Are not quite sure what you are
d. Think that you are a normal kid with a slight tendency to act like the opposite sex.
Or assumably at the age 28 you finally thought that you finally met the 'one' and decided to settle down, be domesticated, share spaces together. But you are not quite sure if you can accept all your partner flaws in the name of love.
Is it easier in the old days where marriage is not really about love ? Those days when courtship means looking straight into some ones eyes for the first time and think to your self that she/he is the one you should spend the rest of your life with. You spend less then 3 times to set your mind weather she/he is the one, and should you offer the proposal or submit to the offer of marriage. Those days love at first sight make sense.
These days, we take longer process to get to that point. Countless useless dates, group hangouts, formal or informal fixed up by your friends or family, you look at one's eye and you're not quite sure what to think of your self or what the person at the other end of this process thinks. It is a violent playground. Then you have competitors, all rooting for the alpha male or the queen bee. Just like a male peacock, you start to spread your beautiful feather to attract the other sex.
I am not equipped for that playground, if all is fair in love and war, then I would be the one who loses. You enter the playground, no pads, nothing to offer, and you see someone you want to play with, but just as the thought came in to your mind, somebody pushes you from behind, running to the same object of affection. And while i still try to get back on my feet again, I saw that person who pushes me before, get pushed by another person. And all I can do, is stood there, being the quiet observer, I have always been, astonished by the view in front of me. Then I laugh at my self, for ever thinking that I could win. Little had I known that, maybe someone out there are thinking the same thing about me. I am untouchable, because I was never long enough in the field.
You see, people come in and out of your life, your walk of life intertwine with some one else's, creating impact, creating ripples on the pond, it's not how, or who it was, but it's what you learned from that encounter, pieces of puzzles you collect , being rich without being rich. The more you interact with people the more you understand what is written on their face. The more you can except life as it is, the battle you need to fight, the enemies you need to forgive, the lover you need to forget.
This encounter, to have a full impact , needs to include some feelings, some emotions, some thing of the heart, and heart matters cuts deep. Time is relative, your five minutes could be my five days. Some times you don't need a life time to figure a person out, but some times you do. You met a stranger on the supermarket queue, you chat up about the price of meat, then you said good bye. Some times you are not granted enough time, to know how he felt about you, either you never come forward with your feelings, or you never asked because you think what you had at this time is good enough without pressuring him about his feelings, then one day, it was all over. Well,gee folks, life goes on. And then you met him 2 years later, all awkward, the things that are left unsaid.
The restless heart, assuming one thing to another, when you allow your self, to fall in love, every words that came out of every one should be analysed. His words, your words, his mates words, your best friend's word. You punished your self for not saying the right words, you analysed his words, complete with a re-enactment of the gesture he made. The long silence between a conversation, what does that mean? Does it means that the both of you are completely comfortable with each other that there are no need to talk? or does it mean, as it is, that you don't have any thing else to talk about, you have nothing else in common, hence the silence. The same things happen when the end of your time with this special person is near. What happened? Was it something I said or not said? The whole analysing thing again, trying to define the problem so you know what to fix.
Out of Love, you forget his face, but the feeling lingers on. Making coffee for two, speed dial needs to be changed, the smell of his shampoo on some one else's hair ( you forget that shampoo is a mass production product) The songs... you have songs for every memories you had with him. Moving on , you have to get ready for the next heart breaker. Different people , same heart break.
Marriage is not the goal, you think that once you get hitched, invited 2500 people, spend too much money for the dress and the make up, trying to prove to people that you have stepped up to the higher class of human race, because you finally make your parents happy by not being a spinster, then it is the highlight of your life, that is it? No future heart breaks? We are just entering a new type of field here. Where everything became more complicated, how about children, their college funds, your luscious co-worker, your spouse's night out. If you want out of this legalised love institution, you have more baggage to carry with you. Love is as fragile as it is strong. Most of us just needs someone to share, someone to kiss and make up, you can pick a fight out of the simplest things like when your partner starts to sing the whole Rush album from Jakarta to Bandung but in the end you strike a deal that you could sing your 80’s compilation on the way back. Including Kylie Minogue’s “ you could be so lucky, lucky in love”, while he speed .
In and Out of Love. I think most of us just want simple things like coming home and shout " Honey! I'm Home!"
I confess, never experienced what people called love. Real love, where you go for the extra miles just to be with someone, or finally excepting ones imperfection, unconditional love. I think for everyone who knew me well , what made me what I am today, was too much self preservation. Showing my feelings means showing my weakness. I am the calm sea, with the electrical current down under, What you see is just a quark of what is inside. Some people have no problem of expressing what they feel, through words, through physical touch, but for me it is a bit out of character, if someone wants to know how feel about them, they should not asked of it. Not everything should be put in words.
But, everyone has their own issues, and my issues will make me the loneliest person on earth. Sob, inhale, exhale, smile.
 Jakarta was wet, damp, and dingy that afternoon, somehow I got a chill over the fact that Bjork will be performing in one of the oldest run down indoor tennis court in town. How surreal is that? What made me apprehensive was that Bjork is in my top 5 must see concert before I die list. So, it was like ‘oh, don’t put your hopes on it too much, she could easily cancel the tour if she feels like it, with the international airport in mess and all the flood issues.” Sometimes things that are unlikely to happen when it actually happens you have a hard time believing it. “Congratulation you won a BMW!” And your response was “No! You’re kidding me!” “Congratulation you won a date with the most desirable sinetron actor!” And your response was “ Get Out of here! Come, On! It’s not true! Is it?” I didn’t have my usual anxiety attack the night before, I don’t have any trouble sleeping at all, I have a moderate anticipation for that day. I was more anxious on my Wiggle Jiggle design project than Bjork, to be honest. What was wrong with me? Here is Bjork. The massive musician that gave positive vibe on being a creative genius that stay true to her self. The woman who introduce me to “ army of me, the woman who dances around on the street of New York with Twisted hair do screaming Big Time sensuality, and personally for me the woman who game me the anthem ' Bachelorette” as well the name of the director Michel Gondry. “ Hem, should I buy Chai Latte? or not, I don’t feel like spending my money on an over prized guilty pleasure” That’s all I could think of when Me and Santi was waiting on my brother in Coffee Bean, an hour before the concert. Even when we were walking to the venue, there was not a single shot of reminiscing the good old days, and really, that was odd, because I am the Queen Majesty of Retrospective Kingdom. As we walk through the mud puddle, I just felt like, sure, we are going to an event, but I cannot seem to remember what. I mean, where in the world are the people with outlandish costume? Where are all those characters that are so infused by the idea of being Bjork that they crowned them self as the only, note this, the only one that can pull of a swan dress. Delusional, no one can pull of that swan dress unless you’re Bjork in the Oscars. Oh, Where art thou, the mystical beings of false fashion statement that I could comment on. It doesn’t seem like it’s a Bjork thing when we arrived at the front gate. It was a liberating disappointment (oxymoron, yes!) Liberating, because it has that laid back atmosphere where most of the audience were in a 21-35 Demographic, where I assume we all are quite comfortable with who we are rather than what we wear. Disappointing because where are those Bjork clones?! I saw one of the leading female singer songwriter who enjoy showing her ‘I worship Bjork, so I dress like her’ attitude, and that was a disappointing moment, because well okay, blame it on the bad weather, she dress down and where simple t-shirt and a short, oh, don’t forget the yellow framed glasses. And what am I wearing, you asked? Well, a dress shirt and wide leg jeans. I am still trying to spread the wide leg jeans virus across town these days. I mean, come on, Annie Hall, everyone? The details of my fashion credo will bore anyone to death, especially when everyone is still crazy about their skinny jeans. Okay, the story continues, we are in the front gate, not so many police around, WHAT? a riot on Bjork’s concert? I think there are quite a lot of Bules around that night, from what I can gather, Indonesia was the only South East Asia Country that Bjork chose to passed by after her Australian concert. So, you see despite of my static heart beat, The Bjork Concert on the 12th of February was a very big deal for most of us. We bought the ticket for the festival arena, which for me was always the right choice if your going to see a concert of this type. You only buy tribune, if the festival are sold out or you’re seeing Placido Domingo and Jazz. We are confronted by dirty filthy stinking toilet before we entered the venue. How, third world are we? And really, still I cannot seem to be in the atmosphere, In Kings Of Convenience concert, I felt like we were ready to have some kind of mosh pit or something. In this rundown Hall, with old fiberglass seats on the tribune, scratched plywood as the floor, until the stage crew starts to put up the flags,Bjork sets, that I suddenly feel the chill, how scandinavian of her. We took position on the middle end of the row, because we could see better that way, kind of. I’m short so what ever! The concert really started when Bjork’s Brass section/Backup singers, marched in and play some set,before the other band members, the drummer, the programmer, the DJ and the Keyboardist came, and followed by BJORK. I cannot believe my eyes. Oyes, we are officially in her world, right now, and I felt a bit of teary eyed, a quiver on my spine, talking about the power to influence someone lifes. EArTH INTRUDERS Me and my Brother grew up with her music, I first notice her Human Behavior video from her Debut album. And from that moment on, Bjork has a part in my life journey. Her music, her personality, her integrity, it just fascinate me. And she had collaborated with various of talented music video director, and thanks for her, I was introduce to another genius named Michel Gondry. In the pit, hearing her voice, the ultra sonic that came from her and her music assemble was monumental. Why weren’t all of you move your body or something, the guy on my left just nod his head and put his arms around his chest. Seriously? This is a concert, man! You pay a relatively large amount of money to get in, not many can do so. What? you are indifferent to Bjork? You just came because the girl you a have crush on went and you want to be seen as her type? Man, why am I being so hostile all of the sudden? And the guy on my right, keep on smoking and he turn the smoke off by throwing it on the floor and squished it under the rubber sole of his expensive sneakers. Wait, did I tell you that the floor was plywood? fire hazard, everyone. Then I turn around and recognized his face, oh, so if the fire starts can I turn him in? because he is the son of Indonesian Rock legend.. taraaaa... Back to the music. I can never describe music in words. Bjork’s performance was incredible, she dances in her little quirky gesture, running around, without loosing her dramatic voice. She wore this floral print pink dress that reminds me of the 80’s bubble arms and bubble dress with white stockings. She and her brass section/backup singer painted their face with colorful paints that glows in the dark. Her Programmer uses these high tech music gadgets, it was interactive, you touch a little black screen that shows rows of bars, like the volume bars in our stereo, he dragged it up and down sideways. And the intensity of the sounds change with it. And then he moves to this big box which its surface become another interactive medium. It was visually stunning, an experimental concept of design. Putting the art of visual effects in the same immediate level as the audio. Bjork performed her old songs from Debut, Post, Homogenic, Vespertine so for me it was a transcendence experience, Army of me, Pagan Poetry, All is Full of Love, Hyper-ballad. Sing along moment was very thrilling, you know the words, you just wanted to scream your emotion out and you ended up with screaming the words with no concern of the notes. Or was it only me? But my Glory Glory Hallelujah moment was when the intro of Bachelorette came in, and I was in a complete hysteria mode. This my dear friend, is truly the soundtrack of my life. every word of it,every note it hits, the strings. As I’m writing this, I still feel the excitement that I need to calm my self down, tranquilizer please!/I'm a fountain of blood/In the shape of a girl// Bachellorette is one of those song that I continually keep having ideas from it. There are so much stories you can explore by that first line along. And the analogies in it was deep and easily reflected. //II’m a tree that grows hearts/One for each that you take/You're the intruder hand/I'm the branch that you break// instead of saying the usual ‘ breaking my heart’ she used another object that has the same effect. The crack voice and the rough breaks, it is not a clean break. Do you ever imagine being this tree that grows big and thick, and then some one chop your thick branch, it will not be a short painless experience. Bjork jumps up and down on the stage, and I know that many people admire her but not exactly understand her antiques. but it was all okay because she is a genius artist, her works inspire many people. Many people just have their quirks and forever be a question mark for other people, but with people like Bjork. People stop asking, because her works says it all we need to know. She doesn’t have to answer to people. Another song that made us all go to that place called blissful reverie, Hyper-ballad has that romantic refrain that goes /I go through all this/Before you wake up /So I can feel happier/To be safe up here with you// That last line was the sum of this song, To be safe up here with you. And I think most of the audience were frantic when Bjork starts to sing this song. The venue turns to be a mass karaoke, all live in perfect harmony.She sang about 10 songs, I lose count on how many songs she delivered, I was on high. That when the last song was performed, I just refused to come down, we all hang there, and It ‘s not supposed to end like this, I mean, seriously, where’s the big schbang?But I guess it was all a show tactics, I guess. Because after yelling “We want more”( of that drug ) for about 5 minutes, the Bjork gang came back. Then she introduced her band member, and her brass section accompany her in the front area of the stage. The Big schabang came in a song called Declare Independence. Not only Declare Independence has that awe-inspiring big beats that successfully persuade even the hater to dance to the beats, it has a moral message that we all need to ponder upon. Being a young Indonesian with all the global injections of pop culture, Start your own currency/Make your own stamp/Protect your language...Damn colonists/Ignore their patronizing/Tear off their blindfold/Open their eyes/ Declare independence/ Don't let them do that to you/Declare independence /Don't let them do that to you /With a flag and a trumpet/Go to the top/Of your highest mountain/And raise your flag (higher higher)!With that, Ones life ought to be redirected, with the confetti fell down, and the lighting went wild, and the line Don’t let them do that to you hot stamped on me forever. I just went to the Music Cathedral / Mosque /Synogoge/ Temple and Bjork’s sermon had brought me closer to that light of the end of the tunnel. Follow that white light we all shone on. Amen.
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