A Piece of My Mind

The story actually started a couple of weekends ago, when one of my best friends, Wida, said that she was getting married on the 22^nd of April.  Coincidentally, my boss sent me for a meeting in Jakarta that same weekend (I was dreading the meeting part, but the paid weekend in the capital city just seemed so intriguing), so I called Wida and said, “Guess what, I think I might be able to come to your wedding after all.”  So I flew to Jakarta on Friday, arriving at the hotel sometime after 2, and just as I was about to take a bath, a message came across my inbox.  It was from another friend in Medan, Tofan, saying: “Wanna see Kala later after work?” to which I replied, “Gue lagi di Jakarta, ntar mungkin mau nonton sih, tapi di Blitz hehe.”  I haven’t heard about the movie by then, I didn’t even know that it was an Indonesian flick.

Later that night, I did go to Blitz, but my best friend Korry and I decided to see Wild Hogs – which I really recommend you guys to see, it’s totally hilarious.  The next Saturday was kinda hectic morning, had this meeting slash forum slash whatever all day (it didn’t finish until 6, mind you that!).  I actually had an appointment to have an afternoon caffeine run with my so-called Friends genk (it was kinda funny, really.  When I moved to Jakarta to work, they were still in Medan.  But later when I moved back to Medan also for work, they all work in Jakarta, but it’s a kind of long distance friendship that we hope to last until we’re old and gray).  Needless to say, I had to cancel the appointment with them.  But at around 8 that night, I did meet with my other group of best friends, the so-called ODP ex-Medan single digit hehehe, so there we were at Kemang having dinner and sharing laugh: Firman, his wife Inga, and their baby boy Raka, Yan, Korry, and Yoes.

Coming Sunday morning, I was supposed to go the Wida’s wedding that day.  But another coincidences happened.  Remember my Friends genk?  They all showed up at my hotel room since Sunday morning: Inge with her husband Ivan and their baby boy Hanif, Wawan, and Dewi.  I haven’t seen them for months now.  Inge was busy with her new baby (can’t believe one of us actually has a baby, the rest of us are still babies really hahahaha), Wawan has been preparing himself to go the United States later this year for his post-graduate studies, and Dewi was always busy saving lives anywhere from Aceh to Thailand to wherever.  So it was a pretty good reunion.  On the other hand, we lost track of time and I couldn’t make it to Wida’s wedding (she’s gonna be mad hehehe).

Because I didn’t go to Wida’s wedding, I arrived at the airport earlier that I should that afternoon.  My booked flight was at 4.30, and I didn’t feel like waiting for 3 hours so I walked up to the Garuda counter and asked for an earlier flight.  They had to offer: the one leaving at 2 and the one leaving at 3.30.  I chose the second one because I needed a moment to grab some books at Periplus and didn’t feel like running to the departure gate just yet.  I picked up The Sunday Jakarta Post and The Debutante Divorcee by Plum Sykes and spent an hour or so reading them in the executive lounge.  And I found the review on Kala on the newspaper.  As it turned out, it was an Indonesian movie, it was directed by Joko Anwar (who was my senior at high school and at AFS), and it was called – by the reviewer – as the monumental achievement in Indonesian cinematography, so I said to myself: I’m gonna see this on Monday.  Lost in my readings, I didn’t realize that it was time to board the plane, so I was probably like the last group to board it, and as I was making my way to my seat, I saw somebody familiar, Al.  He’s my friend from Medan, and he’s been away to Bali for three weeks for work (he works for the United Nations), so I changed seat and sat next time, and we spent the whole flight catching up.  Coincidentally, we both brought The Jakarta Post with us, and we both read the review on Kala, and we both were planning to see it as soon as we can (I wasn’t gonna pass on the chance to witness a monumental achievement in Indonesian cinematography).

Needless to say, my week at work was swamped, didn’t find any time to see it on Monday, Tuesday, till Friday.  But on Friday, as I was returning from visiting my client’s business, a message arrived on my inbox, it was Al, saying: “Did you find time to see Kala yet?  I had two tickets to see it tomorrow morning.”  So we met at Sun 21, the movie started at 10 AM in the morning (I’m not a very morning person on weekend, but anything for a good movie like this).  As it turned out, Joko Anwar and his casts namely Fachry Albar and Ario Bayu were also there to talk about the movie, and as it turned out, the organizer of the event was a friend of mine (he wanted to remain anonymous so I can’t give you name).  We were introduced, and Al and I ended up having lunch with Joko, Fachry, Ario, and my anonymous friend later that afternoon.  For so-called movie stars, they’re very humble and smart, most of our conversation went in English and went anywhere from the movie to the food to whatever.  You know what I was thinking the whole time?  If my book are to be made into a movie, I would love for Ario to play the lead.  Al called it ‘the power of networking’ hehehehe.

Here I am, spending another weekend in the capital city, probably for the zillionth time this year only, always on business.  But there’s just something exhilirating every time I step out of the plane in this city, making appointments with every single one of my closest and dearest friends on the way to the hotel.  And then there’s the most annoying thing in the world that I have to do - unpacking.  I never pack my own suitcase when I leave.  I’m just so bad at packing.  And when I’m about to fly home, I usually just throw everything in the suitcase, stuff everything here and there as long as it fits.

And then there’s lying alone in my hotel room, taking a rest for a while before moving on to the next agenda on my schedule - reporting to the head office, dining with friends, solitary shopping or whatever.  The time that I usually use to plan my next travel - if everything goes well and the budget works, there are two trips abroad that I’m gonna take this year with some friends.  And no it’s not Puerto Rico, we didn’t save that much yet ;)  Although I’d love to go there.  Or Brussels.  Or Morocco.  Or New York.  Or Hong Kong.  Or Zurich.  Or Johannesburg.  As I’m crossing off the list of the things that I wanna do before I turn 30, I’m looking forward to put "see the world" in the list of things I wanna do before I turn 35.

And then, there’s lying alone in my hotel room, calling friends or whatever, and then - always - looking at his name on my speed dial. Thinking I should call him.  Thinking of his name on the other boarding pass of my trip to Puerto Rico or Brussels or wherever.  Thinking of how his signature laugh over the phone can take away all of the clouds in my mind.  Thinking how being in the same city just doesn’t make it easier for us to connect.  Thinking how every time I travel to some place, I’m always finding something that I think would be perfect for him.  A tie, a t-shirt, or even just a keychain.

If travel teaches you how to see, how come every time all I see is you?

Maybe because you’re the one that I choose to help me cross one thing of that list.  We both know what it is.

The bank that I work for has reached a monumental achievement yesterday, as we book 300% increase of profit compared to last year’s and we currently also hold the position of the second best bank in term of service excellence according to the Marketing Research Institute, something that is quite huge in the banking industry.  And in appreciation of that achievement to its employees, we were given a special financial reward yesterday.  And also in appreciation to those who worked their ass of to achieve this, especially the frontliners, they were given a whole lot more financial reward than the employees in the middle management to senior management level – including me and my friends.

Being human, it’s actually very possible for us to envy the numbers that our subordinates get (and I’m telling you, it’s a huge number).  Personally, I also thought that I deserve more – the Mango sale and the Zara new items just seem so irresistible.  But then I came home last night, after a long day of work, and I found this kripik bawang in my room.  At home, we eat in a very healthy and selective way that we rarely find any snack lying around in the house.  So I asked my mom, and she said, “Oh iya, tadi tuh waktu Mama lagi ke apotik, ada ibu-ibu tua yang jalannya udah terseok-seok dan dia jualan berbagai macam kripik, dan waktu itu Mama liat nafasnya aja udah kecapekan, dan dia akhirnya numpang duduk di apotik.  Mama kasian banget, ya udah Mama beli aja kripik-kripiknya.”

And as I sat in the car on my way to work this morning, the image that my mother described just flashed in my mind.  Imagine a sixty something woman still has to drag around her ‘jualan’ in the midst of the burning sun, walking, trying to sell one or two just to eat.  Imagine what time she woke up every morning to make that kripik then tries to sell it all day until she came home at nite, to a house that’s probably not very comfortable, only to wake up the next morning doing the same thing again.  Imagine thousands or hundreds of thousands or probably millions of Indonesian women and men who have to live the same life, accepting life the way it is and still express their gratitude to God every single day because they still have food to eat.

Who am I to complain about the ’small’ amount of reward that I get when that ’small’ amount can actually feed her family for two months?  Who am I to say that I’m not completely satisfied with my job when there are thousands of people out there who would be completely happy and grateful to taste even one thenth of what I have right now?

So when you read this, why don’t we take a moment together to be grateful for what we have, and for once, let our soul be our pilot.

Don’t you just love the title?  There’s actually a song by Panic at the Disco called Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off.  Well, it’s not the lying or the taking the clothes off that I wanna talk about here, it’s flying.  You see, I have flown a zillion times with these:

And tomorrow, I’ll be flying with this:

Wish me luck! (Especially when all of my work mates have made a list of all my possessions in case I don’t make it … funny, but kinda scary hehehe).

How much money do you spend monthly on magazines?  Guilty confession: my subscription bill sometimes top my mobile phone bill, if you can wrap your head around it.  Although my CFO Asia subscription is free, I do spend hundreds of thousands on other things like Harper’s Baazar, Esquire (not the local one, it’s just lost in translation for me), Cosmpolitan, InStyle, to Harvard Business Review (just trying to get a headstart to become a CEO one day hahaha).  If you have the same problem, I now have a solution for you.  The hottest item in town right now is Soap Magazine, a perfect combination of Baazar, Esquire, InStyle, and Fortune, and you get all that with a price tag that doesn’t rob you bankrupt.  I’ve been buying this magazine since its first issue – although it’s only sold in Kinokuniya and TGA in Jakarta and I literally have to have it mailed to me every month – and I love it! 

It’s fresh without being marginal, it’s chic without being pretentious. And I’m not just saying this because the editor-in-chief is a good friend of mine and some of the contributors are also my friends and I also contributed a couple of articles on their March issue (which is available on the newsstand as we speak).  But if the fact that I’m on it makes you wanna buy it, tbere’s no harm in mentioning it, right?