Cerita Seorang (Setengah) Dokter

Saya Dokter.

Yah, tepatnya setengah dokter sih karena saya tidak mengambil residensi/ko-ass, jadi saya tidak bisa praktek dokter. Buat yang belum tahu, proses menjadi dokter di Indonesia adalah 4 tahun belajar teori dan 2 tahun kerja praktek/ko-ass, lalu dilanjutkan dengan PTT (kerja di propinsi terpencil) dan ujian akreditasi dokter, baru deh boleh buka praktek. Alasan saya berhenti? Tidak balik modal bro.

Dari ini...

Saya suka kedokteran. Dari dulu itu mimpi saya: menjadi dokter dan menolong pasien. Ga harus menyelamatkan nyawa dengan dramatis kaya di film-film, asal pasien saya bisa sehat saja saya sudah cukup senang. Ceritanya.  Tapi untuk sampai kesana perjuangannya luar biasa. Kalau yang kuliah ekonomi cuma perlu menyelesaikan 160 SKS, kita di kedokteran perlu 200 SKS plus tambahan SKS di program Ko-ass. Yang konon cuma 4 tahun bisa molor sampai 7 tahun (seperti saya). Lalu waiting list untuk masuk/melaksanakan program Ko-ass karena hanya tidak semua rumah sakit menerima program ko-ass. Karena universitas saya swasta dan tidak punya rumah sakit sendiri, alhasil kadang ko-ass menganggur selama berminggu-minggu sampai berbulan-bulan untuk mendapat giliran di rumah sakit. Yang konon cuma 2 tahun bisa molor sampai 3 tahunan. Belum lagi aksi tusuk sana-tusuk sini dan persaingan ketat sesama rekan sejawat yang tidak mau nilai saya lebih baik dari nilai mereka. Ini terasa sekali saat masih di program S.Ked/4 tahun teori, karena kalau rata-rata nilainya jeblok maka yang harusnya standarnya cuma dapat C bisa diupgrade jadi B atau A-. 

Saat saya lulus S.Ked saya dihadapkan dengan dilema: lanjut sampai dokter penuh atau tidak. Saat itu orang tua saya sudah beberapa tahun berpisah dan saya membiayai kuliah saya sendiri dengan bekerja menjadi guru Bahasa Inggris. Biaya ko-ass bahkan lebih mahal daripada biaya kuliah teori, dan jadwal yang tidak tentu berarti saya tidak bisa bekerja lagi. Mama meminta saya lanjut sampai selesai dan akan berusaha mencari uang yang diperlukan, dan bahkan dosen saya menjanjikan untuk membantu saya menyelesaikan kuliah saya. Tapi saya berpikir: kalau saya terus, berarti setidaknya saya tidak bisa menghasilkan uang sampai paling cepat 4-5 tahun (Ko-ass + PTT + akreditasi), lalu bagaimana saya bisa hidup dan kedepannya berapa banyak hutang yang harus saya bayar? Banyak senior kami yang akhirnya mengajar karena sebagai dokter muda/fresh graduate mereka tidak mendapatkan pasien. Konon ada yang sampai 5 tahun buka praktek baru mendapatkan pelanggan tetap. Masuk rumah sakit juga butuh koneksi dan sama ketatnya dengan mencari pekerjaan di bidang lain. Saat itu saya sudah mendapat gaji setara dengan rekan-rekan di Ekonomi yang sudah berkerja selama 2 tahunan, padahal saya hanya bekerja selama 3 jam sehari; teman saya bekerja menjaga klinik 24 jam dan dibayar setara dengan yang saya charge selama 1.5 jam. Ini jelas bukan pilihan, pikir saya. 

Saat saya kuliah dulu (dan belakangan ini) saya sering mendengar: "Dokter itu profesi mulia"; dan seringkali saya bertanya: apa sih kategori "mulia" itu? Apa menyelamatkan nyawa itu lebih mulia daripada, misalnya, wedding organizer? Sama-sama membantu orang toh. Dokter ya sebuah profesi. Dokter menerima bayaran dari pasien untuk mendiagnosa dan (kalau bisa) menyembuhkan pasien. Sama saja dengan montir yang menerima bayaran untuk mendiagnosa kondisi mobil anda dan membetulkannya. Bedanya adalah montir bekerja dengan benda mati yang selalu sama, sementara dokter bekerja dengan tubuh manusia yang selalu berbeda. Dokter tidak bisa menjanjikan kesehatan atau kesembuhan, dan ini tidak ada hubungannya dengan ilmu atau kelalaian lho. Tubuh manusia itu berbeda satu dengan lainnya, biarpun berat badan dan kondisi kesehatan sama tapi bisa saja efek obat yang diberikan berbeda. Tubuh manusia juga hidup dan terkadang walau sudah diintervensi dokter melakukan hal-hal yang diluar kendali si dokter. Kalau mobil bisa dengan mudah dibongkar pasang untuk melihat bagaimana cara kerjanya, manusia jelas tidak bisa. Dengan kata lain, kedokteran bukan ilmu pasti. Kedokteran lebih mirip sebuah "seni": seni menyembuhkan. Dengan melihat gejala dan sebagainya, seorang dokter bisa melihat (atau setidaknya menebak) apa yang salah dan berusaha membuatnya jadi lebih baik. Tapi ini bukan ilmu pasti karena tubuh manusia tidak sama satu dengan yang lainnya. Dan dengan berkembangnya ilmu secara umum, bisa saja protokol-protokol dan teknik pengobatan yang dilakukan sekarang justru dianggap berbahaya dan bodoh di masa depan. Orang Yunani kuno percaya histeria wanita terjadi karena indung telurnya berjalan-jalan/berpindah di dalam tubuhnya, dan diobati dengan ditakut-takuti (teriakan dan suara keras) agar kembali ke tempatnya. Sekarang kita cukup minum obat penenang. Dan bahkan di masa depan bisa saya kita bahkan tidak perlu obat penenang,

Menjadi ini...

Saya sepenuhnya setuju dengan pendapat yang bilang: Dokter itu juga profesi, jadi kalau salah bisa dihukum. Ini benar sekali, tapi dengan catatan bahwa yang mau menghukum dan merasa dirugikan harus mengerti bahwa kedokteran bukan ilmu pasti. Ada bedanya antara kelalaian/ketidak-pedulian dan kondisi di luar kendali si dokter karena - lagi-lagi - tubuh manusia berbeda satu dengan yang lainnya. Banyak juga yang dengan emosi berpendapat dokter tidak punya hati nurani kalau tidak membantu orang miskin. Ini juga harus ditelusuri: apa dokternya yang dengan songongnya bilang "Sorry ya, eike jijay sama orang miskin!" atau birokrasi rumah sakit yang menahan si pasien? Dan kalaupun birokrasi rumah sakit, apakah itu karena rumah sakitnya yang sibuk "Uang! Uang! Uang! Uang!!!" atau karena mereka berusaha menjalankan bisnis karena pemerintah tidak mampu memberikan jaminan kesehatan untuk rakyat Indonesia? Obat dan alat medis itu mahal lho bo'. Kalau tidak pintar-pintar mengelola rumah sakit bisa bangkrut. Katakanlah anda punya toko atau restoran, apa iya anda akan sedemikan mudahnya memberikan barang jualan anda atau makanan gratis bila ada yang datang dan bilang: saya miskin tapi saya perlu barang/makanan anda untuk hidup. Atau anda penasihat keuangan yang dibayar sekian juta per harinya, apa iya anda akan mau mengalokasikan waktu anda yang berharga untuk membantu mengelola keuangan si miskin? Mungkin anda rela, tapi kalau terus-terusan dilakukan bisa-bisa anda yang perlu bantuan. 

Saya tahu bedanya pelayanan dokter 'miskin' dengan dokter 'kaya'. Saat saya pergi ke dokter kulit di RSUD di Bali, si mbak dokter residen sibuk main BB dan tidak peduli dengan saya. Boro-boro ngecek, dia hanya bertanya kondisi dan sibuk mencatat lalu selesai. Terhina rasanya, walaupun saya cuma bayar Rp 15,000. Buat saya, profesi apapun tidak boleh membedakan klien/pelanggan. Biar dia bayar cuma sepersepuluh klien di rumah sakit mahal, kalau memang si dokter terima job disitu maka dia harus konsisten dengan pelayanannya. Kali berikutnya saya pergi ke rumah sakit swasta, kena Rp 250,000 termasuk obat tapi pelayannannya jangan ditanya... Sangat memuaskan! Saya diperiksa fisik, ditanya-tanya, dijelaskan, benar-benar money well spent rasanya. Soal obat juga demikian, saat mantan pacar saya kecelakaan dia diberikan obat untuk gegar otaknya dari rumah sakit pemerintah tempat ia dirawat. 7 hari meminum obat itu dia masih tidak bisa bangun karena pusing. Setelah mendapat obat dari spesialis swasta, 2 hari minum obat dia sudah bisa jalan-jalan. Obat itu mahal, dan sayangnya semakin poten sebuah obat maka semakin mahal pula harganya. Walau demikian saya pun tidak setuju bila dokter terlalu kemaruk dan terlalu mesra dengan perusahaan farmasi, karena pasien yang dirugikan. Cari tambahan sih boleh saja, tapi ada batasnya. Setelah saya membayar hampir Rp 20,000 untuk obat salep saya, seminggu kemudian saya menyadari bahwa sebenarnya ada istilah lebih sederhana untuk kondisi kulit yang saya alami: kena gigitan serangga tomcat. Dan salep tersebut cuma perlu bayar Rp 15,000 di puskesmas. Hadeuuuuh......

Kalau dokter sama dengan profesi lainnya (dan memang sama), kenapa dokter dihujat kalau mencari profit? Biar bagaimana, mereka juga harus balik modal lho. Saya rasa orang tua manapun yang meng-iyakan anaknya untuk menjadi dokter pasti berpikiran kalau ini demi masa depan anaknya, karena dokter adalah satu dari sedikit profesi yang akan selalu dibutuhkan walau sudah tua sekalipun. Dengan kata lain bermotif ekonomi. Saya setuju dengan pendapat bahwa dokter harus professional, tidak membedakan klien, dan tidak boleh lalai. Ini sebenarnya kode etik untuk semua profesi bukan? Mulai dari pembantu rumah tangga sampai direktur perusahaan. Tapi kalau soal dokter harus membantu si miskin dan siap menolong siapapun karena itu profesi mereka, monggo diingat kalau mereka juga manusia. Saya rasa kebanyakan dokter pasti lebih pilih mengelola orang kaya agar balik modalnya cepat. Apa iya ini salah? Kalau anda punya anak apa anda akan rela membiayai anak anda hingga sekian ratus juta dan membuat dia kehilangan setidaknya 10 tahun waktu hidupnya untuk belajar agar dia bisa berbakti kepada masyarakat, tanpa  pamrih atau imbalan apapun untuk anda? Dan bila anda yang menjadi dokter, apa anda rela mengorbankan 10 tahun waktu anda dan hidup morat-marit makan nasi dan garam agar anda bisa berbakti kepada masyarakat (dan ini setelah membayar kuliah yang sekian ratus juta). Yang namanya dokter bekerja di rumah sakit dan tidak bisa menolong pasien (kalau ditolak oleh rumah sakit), yang namanya dokter 'bermesraan' dengan perusahaan farmasi, yang namanya dokter memilih kerja di kota dan bukan di daerah terpencil, apa iya anda bisa menyalahkan mereka untuk mencoba mencari penghidupan yang layak? Kalau pasien sampai ditelantarkan atau tidak dilayani dengan baik, tentu bisa. Tapi bila semua masih dalam batas kewajaran, kenapa tidak?

Dan akhirnya ini....

Tapi perjalanan ini belum berakhir!!!

Bila sampai disini anda masih menyalahkan dokter dan dengan sinis berkata: "Apa si miskin tidak boleh sakit??", perkenankan saya menjawab dengan jujur: "Kalau di Indonesia sih tidak." Pertanyaan ini seharusnya bukan ditujukan kepada dokter, tapi kepada pemerintah Indonesia. Anda tidak bisa mengharapkan dokter berkorban demi si miskin hanya dengan jargon "itu profesi anda!". Mereka juga butuh makan bro. Bila saja pemerintah Indonesia mampu menjamin rakyatnya, saya rasa tidak ada rumah sakit atau dokter yang menolak pasien miskin karena tahu secara finansial mereka memang bisa menolong si pasien ini. Dan bila memang pemerintah tidak sanggup menjamin rakyatnya, apa yang bisa anda lakukan untuk sesama warga negara Indonesia? Bagaimana bila anda yang menjamin dan membayar pengobatan untuk orang-orang miskin ini, atau membuat semacam Community Hospital alias rumah sakit komunitas yang dibiayai dari kantong-kantong anda untuk para orang miskin? Jangan cuma bisa menuduh dokter malpraktik tanpa mengerti kompleksnya tubuh manusia, atau menuduh dokter mata duitan karena konon tidak mau membantu orang miskin padahal anda sendiri tidak melakukan apa-apa.

Masih berpikir dokter itu jahat rakus dan tidak berperikemanusiaan disaat mereka harusnya menolong manusia tanpa pamrih dan persetan dengan bea kuliah mereka yang mencapai ratusan juta? Mungkin anda harus berhenti sejenak dan membayangkan, bagaimana bila lebih banyak (calon) dokter yang berpikir seperti saya dan memutuskan berhenti kuliah. Mungkin ada harus berhenti sejenak dan membayangkan sebuah dunia yang berisi sales dan akuntan dan profesi lainnya tapi tak ada tenaga medis, atau dunia dimana tenaga medis sedemikian minimnya (risiko tinggi, balik modal susah, siapa yang mau ??) sehingga hanya orang-orang kaya saja yang sanggup membayar service ini. Masih mau menyalahkan dokter?

PS: Serius, kalau dokter anda memang sucks dan ga becus monggo diprotes lho. Ini bisnis bung, anda berhak mendapat pelayanan yang sepantasnya. Tapi ingat, dokter bukan Tuhan dan tidak bisa menjamin kesembuhan biar sehebat apapun doi. Istilah yang paling tepat: To cure sometimes, to treat often, to comfort always. Jadi jangan marah kalau si dokter sudah melakukan sebisanya tapi tidak sembuh, dan monggo misuh-misuh bila jelas-jelas ia lalai atau nyuekin anda. Salam!

The Real Reason Why People Should Travel

There are, you know, other countries. Ones with different rules and cultures and food, ones with different laws and norms. And you might missed them. You might missed them if you just sit around in front of your computer, or living your life without ever going anywhere. You might missed them if you did get around but too busy admiring the scenery or communicate with your inner-self (or social media) instead of observing the people around you. You might missed them if you choose to close your eyes and block your mind from anything "new".

I found a post about a modern-day slavery in US that intrigued me. A few people commented that the victim should just go to the police and reported them. As one person stated:

"NO ONE "lives a slave life" unless your stupid enough AND want to do it. Look at every instance that's made it into the press...IF your stupid enough to believe that walking out that door is bad then you deserve to be where your at and should be an economic unit." 

To me this sounded like a very good example of living inside your shell, and why you should travel even if it's a virtual travel through the internet.

My sister and son. 

There is more story in this to admire than just her elegant traditional dress

As painful as it is for me to admit, law in Indonesia are shaky at its best. If you were up against someone who had more money/power or a more 'respected member' of the society you might find yourself at the deep end instead. Take Prita's case, who was sued for libel defamation just because she posted her complaints about a hospital in her mailing group. Authorities are not really fond of helping you out too, it's easier to just slip an extra Rp 20,000 to an office clerk that you know at the police station when renewing your vehicle's license than to do the whole shenanigans by yourself (which will end up costing you both time and money). Even though not all authority/government staff are like this, the overall situation conditioned us to distrust and become very reluctant in dealing with authorities. I can't imagine how the slavery victim can just go and report to the police, because even with my husband constant assurance and complete documentation I still found myself nervous and reluctant when I have to deal with US authority. He kept on saying that they couldn't harm me, yet it was not easy to just change my mindset. 

This fact is mind baffling for country citizens where laws are upheld and their authority/government are set to help them in every part of the way. But as I said: different countries, different rules. And this is why travelling is important for you, because ignorance and indifference could hurt. 

So many people returned home from their travel with only pictures and videos on their SD cards, or the story of that excellent night of rave partying, or about their new-found conscience and re-uniting with God. But travelling should be more than that. It wasn't always about what you experienced, but it's also about what you learned. It's not about 'visiting' a place, it's about 'learning' that place. It's about discovering and understanding another part of the world, and realizing that that's what make the world is so awesome. Travelling should be about humanity in general, because even in the most desolate deserts or the highest mountain top you would need to interact with human to be there. 

Indonesian's carnival game: Duck ring toss. 

Because tossing a ring to a bottle would be too easy :p

In a world where hate and destructing 'criticism' are freely given through the mask of internet, travelling might be a way to world's peace. Understanding is basically accepting, and if we learned to accept that there are things 'different' than what we know we wouldn't be in constant "you offend me! No, YOU offend me!" situation. This is basically a cheat sheet for those who couldn't (or didn't have to patience to) find the great karmic peace within them. And it sure is nice to get more peace and have less people complains about getting pissed off from other people's pure indifference and ignorance. 

Do the world a favor. When you travel, even if it's just cross-country for the thanksgiving, observe the people around you and how they live their life. Places where people live shaped their character and their view in life, and you might surprised on how refreshing it is to see a new point of view. Some you will disagree with and some you will hate, but remember that you are not there to judge. You are to observe and (hopefully) to understand, but never to judge; and to realize what a vast, diversified, and beautiful world we have. This appreciation would be a valuable memento of the trip, and the real reason why people should travel. 

Ayo Bangkit Indonesia!!!

Tahukah anda satu kesamaan tiap kali ada artikel tentang Indonesia di media Amrik? Komentar negatif.

Baru saja saya membaca berita tentang gempa bumi di wilayah timur Indonesia. Saya bersyukur tidak ada korban jiwa ataupun efek yang signifikan. Namun yang bikin saya emosi adalah komentar-komentar pembaca yang sinis/negatif. Ada yang bilang Indonesia "muslim crap-hole", ada yang bilang Obama bakal kesini bagi-bagi duitnya Amerika (kaya kita butuh getooo). Menyebalkan banget ga sih?

Masalahnya, komentar-komentar ini selalu ada tiap kali ada artikel tentang Indonesia. Seolah-olah bagi pembaca budiman kita di Indonesia ini: 

A) Perusak lingkungan - karena nebangin hutan

B) Teman kongkow/ce-es annya Obama yang akan selalu dilindungi dan dikasi duit

C) Negara terbelakang dan amat-sangat miskin yang terus minta bantuan ke luar negeri

D) Pusat teroris

Tiap kali komentar-komentar ini muncul saya selalu berusaha mencounternya walau saya tahu tidak banyak gunanya karena orang-orang model begini tidak akan percaya atau peduli dengan pendapat saya. Tapi saya mencounter bukan dengan tujuan membalas si komentator dodol itu, saya mencounter agar pembaca lainnya mengenal Indonesia lebih baik. 

Saya ingin pembaca Amrik tahu bahwa:
A) Hutan kita ditebang dan sumber daya kita dikuras bukan karena penduduk Indonesia rakus, tapi justru untuk melayani demand/permintaan global yang mayoritas datang dari negara maju.

B) Obama bukan ce-es kita. Dia cuma pernah sekolah sebentar disini dan sejujurnya saya ga yakin dia segitu mesra/nge fans nya dengan Indonesia. Jangan nyari2 alasan cuma karena ga suka Obama terus dikait2kan dengan (konon) negara teroris

C) Hello? Situ yang butuh kita. Kearifan lokal Indonesia itu cukup untuk bertahan hidup dimanapun, dan sumber daya alam kita juga melimpah ruah. Jangan salahkan kita miskin, salahkan penanam modal yang maunya ngeruk kekayaan Indonesia saja. Dan kalau ga rela kasi bantuan ya ga usah...

D) Indonesia BUKAN negara Islam, dan Islam juga tidak identik dengan teroris. Hampir semua teman saya yang beragama Islam oke punya dan tidak mengikuti stereotip "teroris" hasil ke-parno-annya orang Barat. Dan lagi, kalau kita segitu terorisnya kenapa ga kita yang diserang duluan setelah Afganistan etc?

Demi meringankan gejala homesick saya, si Akang memasang peta Indonesia yang besar di dinding apartemen kami. Setelah dipasang dia komentar: Indonesia itu ternyata besar ya. Dan dia tidak salah. Indonesia itu memang besar. Pertanyaannya, apakah kita yang orang Indonesia sadar kalau negara kita adalah negara besar, baik dari segi ukuran maupun kemampuan/potensi? Kita cukup besar sehingga negara-negara lain ngeh (dan parno) soal kita. Kita cukup bijak dan tangguh sehingga bisa bertahan dalam kondisi ekstrim sekalipun. Kita tuh... keren. Tapi biar sekeren apapun tidak akan ada pengaruh/manfaatnya kalau kita tidak ngeh kalau kita keren, atau kalau kita tidak sadar siapa dan apa itu orang "Indonesia".

Tiap kali saya baca komentar di media Indonesia, biasanya saling nyolot/ejek mengejek masalah agama. Atau mirisnya saya saat baca "Tanya Jawab Ahok" dimana beberapa pertanyaanya berkaitan dengan rasnya. Sekarang begini ya para pembaca yang budiman, Indonesia itu bukan satu agama saja. Indonesia itu terdiri dari beragam suku bangsa dan beragam agama, dan salah satunya adalah keturunan Cina. So what gitu lho? Si Mbak ini marah-marah karena dia merasa distereotipkan sebagai keturunan Asia timur, padahal dia warga negara Amrik. Saya nggak mengerti kenapa dia harus emosi, mengingat kebanyakan orang Asia belum terlalu lama menjadi imigran disana, paling tidak yang tercatat (untuk asia timur) adalah semenjak 1778 dan abad ke 19. Wajar kalau mereka masih dianggap "asing". Sementara di Indonesia yang keturunan Cina nya sudah berabad-abad dan bergenerasi-genenrasi, beberapa keturunan kerajaan bahkan menikah dengan penguasa lokal, kenapa masih dipertanyakan dan diperdebatkan bahwa mereka warga minoritas? Bukankan Bali yang cuma pulau kecil juga hitungannya minoritas? Atau Lombok dan Sumba?

Kalau kita mau Indonesia bangkit, kalau kita mau Indonesia berjaya, kita harus berhenti berpikir "Saya!!!". Anda ya memang anda, tapi mari berpikir lebih jauh dari sekedar keberadaan anda, mari berpikir tentang keberadaan anda selaku warga negara Indonesia. Indonesia tidak dimerdekakan oleh satu golongan/agama/ras/suku saja, dan tidaklah mungkin Indonesia bisa dijalankan dan meraih potensi maksimalnya hanya dengan satu golongan/agama/ras/suku saja. Kalau mau begitu, pilihannya adalah kembali ke jaman pra-kemerdekaan dimana Indonesia terdiri dari berbagai negara-negara/kerajaan-kerajaan kecil yang dimana mudah sekali dimangsa oleh negara besar. Apa ini yang anda inginkan?

Saya ingin orang tahu hebatnya Indonesia, saya ingin orang menghormati negara dan asal-usul saya dan berhenti mengolok-oloknya. Satu-satunya cara adalah menyadarkan mereka (dan dunia plus orang Indonesia sendiri) betapa hebatnya dan kerennya Indonesia. Dan ini tidak akan tercapai bila kita sibuk bertengkar dengan penuh keparnoan terhadap sesama warga negara yang berbeda agama atau suku, dan bukannya bersatu memajukan Indonesia. Jangan mau dan jangan puas cuma jadi bahan ejekan negara lain. Ayo bangkit Indonesia!!

Pursuit of Happyness

My husband did his little victory dance last night. It involved a lot of hip-thrusting, arms raising, and various smug expression which all said: "Yeah I did it!". The reason? Peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

It is hard to believe this is the same man that only a year ago was a chain smoker and went bar-hopping to forget how much he hate his life. This is also the same man that a mere 6 months ago was in a constant debate on how ridiculous living in California was, that the same amount of money he paid for his huge house in Arizona was only enough to pay the rent of our small apartment here in California. And this is also the same man that a mere 2 months ago would come home and sat and watch video in the internet all night long, completely oblivious that I was also in the same house with him. He is still the same man. The only difference is that he's happy now, and he knows that he's happy.

So often I hear people say: Happiness is a choice. It was as if we can easily choose to be happy, just as easy as deciding to have pizza for dinner instead of pasta. But if you never had a pizza before, how do you know you'd prefer that over pasta? And even if you do know pizza, how do you know which would make you happiest: with pineapple instead of jalapeno, or pepperoni instead of ham? When my husband went into depression, it's one of the things people would almost always say to him: You need to be happy. Sure, but how? It's not that he didn't want to be happy, it's not that he didn't choose to be happy, it's that he didn't know how.

Happiness is not a choice. It's a state of recognition, a degree of awareness. You need to be able to see your life or your current condition objectively to find happiness, to realize whether your life was in fact really that sucks (or not). My husband got the cheat sheet. He went to Indonesia and got himself both a wife and a life changing experience. His trips to Indonesia change his whole perspective of life, and made him appreciate the perks and the infinitely easier life in the US. When I came to US, I was enthralled with all the little things that he was so accustomed to, and that in turn made him appreciate the life he lives in even more. It's the little things that counts.

Yet in a way, happiness is also a choice. In one of our heated argument during his depression period I told him: I need you to be happy because I deserve to be happy with you. As selfish as it sound, it worked. He acknowledged the things he would miss if he kept being depressed. He found things he like, and he pursued them. He laughed more. On rare occasions where his depression coming back with a vengeance, he would hold himself in tight check and wait till it went away instead of succumbing to it. He would smile even when it's difficult for him to smile. He wanted to be happy, and now that he can be happy, he choose to stay happy.

As I said, he got the cheat sheet, the (kind of) easy way to find happiness. It was by far an impressive feat, but he had his life experience and a perfectly compatible partner to help him found it. A lot of people don't have this privilege. A lot of people spend their life with the nagging emptiness inside them, which can not be satiated even with the fanciest cars or biggest houses, and even with the self-improved articles or advice from life-style gurus still couldn't see how they can be happy. As my husband put it: "I spend my youth thinking that I would be happy if I have a better car or house than my friends'; and at times I would have that urge, that insatiable craving that I just have to have something, like a designer shoe or latest gadget which I just can't rest until I have it. I don't feel that anymore."

Happiness is about being grateful, it's about accepting your situation and make the best of it, it's about self-control and desire to be better. Happiness is about loving yourself, and thus the life you live. It is not a constant condition and its intensity (or even its existence) may differ from time to time. But if you had more sunny days than rainy days, I think you did pretty good :).

My husband and I love to eat, and therefore we really enjoy our grocery shopping trips. We'd high-five when we found a good deal at the supermarket, or a simultaneously "Yes!" and arm pumping when we do price-checking and noticed we have previously bought the same item at another store for a better deal. A pizza toast on a bolilo roll for late-night snack is enough to made us grin with happiness. A trip to Santa Monica pier or a walk at The Getty was our idea of fun, but so does hanging out at the library or watching a concert in the park, or even our daily evening walk around the apartment complex. His (not-so) secret desire was to once again swing on a rope at Bali's waterfall and do a dangdut dance at the local carnival in Indonesia. Finding hidden geocache in the middle of a desert or in a busy park excites us. And yes, peanut butter and jelly sandwich for snacks. Those are the things that made us happy. What made you happy?

Save Those Hotties err Kitties!!!

Taken from Kittendales Calendar, The 2014 edition is the seventh annual calendar featuring "kitties and hotties" to raise money for the Hull Seaside Animal Rescue (HSAR) in Massachusetts.
Read more about it here.

Amen to this!!! God knows how we need to save the hotties, err the kitties!!
Yes, as I told you before women enjoy this kind of thing too ;)

Feeling degraded boys? Bummed out because you are not got enough like that sexy piece of male specimen (the one in denim, not the one in furs)? Got that nasty feeling in your gut that you were being objectified and vilified? Or have the surge of pride instead? We women deal with those emotions every time we are being portrayed or portraying ourselves for the pleasure of men, and yes it doesn't always feels nice. Welcome to the club!!

The Day I Lost Her

"I'm leaving, Seth."

My gut felt like a knot. I knew she was up to something when she asked to meet up in the airport. I had to rush through the traffic, because she said don't be late. I'm lucky I didn't get any ticket or worse, any accident as I drove like a madman. All I could think about was her, and I fervently hoping she was okay. Then I walked into the coffee shop and I saw a huge backpack next to her. And I knew all was lost.

"Where?"

She handed me her plane tickets. 

"When will you be back?" I knew the answer, but I just had to ask.

"I'm staying for good. I got a teaching position there."

I was still holding her ticket, fighting back the tears. "This is a third world country. A terrorist country. Are you insane?"

"No. I've thought about it carefully. I need to go Seth. I need to be whole again. And please, don't call it a terrorist country."

"It wasn't your fault!" I blurted out. "It wasn't your fault what they did to you!!"

She smiled, looking so serene. "I know it wasn't my fault Seth. But does it matter?"

"The pictures are there, Seth; and so does the video. It will never go away."

"We can go to the police, we can put them behind bars. Come on, you can't just run away!"

"Sure we can, and what will they get? A few years in jail, or maybe none at all. And in the mean time, I had to live with those pictures and video." 

She looked intently at the coffee in her cup.

"People say I am a whore, Seth. People blame me for going to that party and drink. People say I get what I deserve. I got a teaching degree and I don't think I can ever use it here. I can't think how a school would want such an infamous person to teach their young children."

Her tears fell one by one into the cup; first so slowly, then it was a stream of tears. It reminded me of the first storm we encountered as a child together. Back then I kept asking myself, will it ever stop; I found myself asked the same question now.

"And if I have a child, what would I say to her, or to him? That mom was raped in a party just like a cheap whore? And if I found a man that I would love, can he lived with all those pictures and video? I need to go Seth. I want to go and leave this all behind."

I was numb. "It is not your fault. They drugged you. They rape you."

"Seth," she laughed sadly, "Does it even matter?"

"There are pictures of me being 'done' by two men, of their derogatory 'handicrafts' with Sharpie on my body, there are pictures of me being used as a sex object when I passed out, and a whole video of their games. They have their fucking Facebook page for God's sake. Does it even matter how I got there?"

"So this is it? You are basically running away?"

"Yes Seth, if you want to put it that way. Yes." She looked up from her cup and looked into my eyes, "I was actually thinking of kicking the bucket, you know. Just get it done with. But then I thought, those images would live forever. Even after I am gone, those images would still be around."

"I will not let them destroy me Seth. I will outlive their deed."

"By what? Going to a Muslim country and live there? This is suicide! Just another form of suicide!"

"Seth, that is not a Muslim country. It has a huge population of Muslim but it is a Democratic Republic. See, I've done my homework."

"You'll just get raped again there. They don't value women for Christ's sake! How can you be so naive and think you would fare better there?? Come one, get real! We have laws here, not so dumbass corrupt officials that needed bribes. We have freedom here!"

"Freedom for what, Seth? Freedom to violate someone else because society said it's ok? What's so different with them?"

"You are sick. You need professional help."

"No I'm not. But you know what I do need, Seth? I need to get out of this hell hole."

She took a deep breath and was silent for a few minutes.

"I thought it was fun, Seth. Mimosa or Champagne brunches, bar hopping, cocktail nights, there was always alcohol around. I thought it was fun, and only weirdos and ultra-fanatic zealots that would say no to alcohol. Then it happened. I am not sure it was fun anymore."

"You were drugged for God's sake! You could have been drinking water when they drugged you, not alcohol!"

"True. But I can easily passed out myself from all the drinks. And when shits happen, I am on my own. Isn't it ironic that our society dictates alcohol and sex to be a part of our culture, but do not protect me from the disastrous result?"

She smiled, "You said they don't value women. It was so wrong. But even so, wouldn't it be nice to have some limit? To actually stop being intoxicated just to fit in, to actually treat sex like a big deal. It's good to have some "No"s once in a while."

We sat in silent, and I accompanied her to the boarding gate 10 minutes later. None of us spoken, except for a sorrowful goodbye that she whispered in my ears when I hug her tight. And with that, my friend was gone forever. 

I walked back to my car and sat there for a long time, painfully trying to memorize the warmth of her body from our last hug. I tried to recall her smile and her laughter, the beautiful soul that I had known throughout our childhood, my beloved friend for almost all of my life. But I couldn't. All that I can remember was her tears, her agony, her sufferings. And the photos. The wretched photos and video. Then my phone beeped.

Message from Louis K

Hey Bro, the new stuff is here. Just in time for the party tonite ;) :)

My hands trembled and bile was rising quickly to my throat, my eyes were teary as I tried hard to stop the the incoming vomit. It took me a while to calm myself, and when I did, I cried for a long time. It just dawned me that the 'bitches' that my 'bros' preyed were somebody's daughter, somebody's friend, somebody's sister. And it could have been my daughter, my sister, my friend. I remember the last girl I raped in our last party, her face kept surfacing in my mind, with tears flowing endlessly. And then the one before that, and the one before that, and so on. Their faces intermingle with each other and so was their tears until somehow it become Lisa's face, my dearest friend Lisa who was like a sister to me. And I saw her mouthed that sorrowful goodbye. I cried in agony: "I'm sorry. I am so so sorry...!!!

-Dedicated to Roast Busters victims. Stay strong ladies.  

I Am Not Young Enough To Know Everything

I am not young enough to know everything
This aching bone, this sunken cheeks
This leathery skin, this wilted flesh
This bliurred memories and dim vision

Gone were the days when i am young
A sprightly youth, a tender soul
Eyes that see things, mind that is open
And the beautiful, beautiful experiences

Every muscle knows something,
memorizing it clearly from my movement
Every gaze reveals something,
Understanding it from my experience

Lo and behold, i know things!
Fear and pain have not bind me yet
And neither do pessimism and doubts
And thus, I truly know things

The beauty of the world
Its wonder experienced in all my senses
The delight to be a part of life
Oh how good it is to be young!

But now I'm old, and I forget
The knowledge flickers and dims like an old light
It swarmed me like the morning fog
Cold and shapeless, a fraction of dream

Will I ever be back again?
Will I ever know things again?
Curse this age and the life I live
Curse the pain and dissapointment that broke my wings

My child wanders around freely
Smile on his face and laughters galore
Experiencing things, knowing things
Understanding things in life and enjoying it

But not me
I am not young enough to know everything

Bust That Bust-y Move!

"The part of a woman’s body men look at the most?
I hope you are sitting down, because I'm about to give you the shock of your life...."

And according to the said article, the answer is....... Breasts!!!
Yes, yes, feel free to bump your head in unison to the desk.

Elvira, the only character I know that successfully match her boobs and her personality

I hope the writer was joking or she was being sarcastic, because I seriously doubt that this comes a shock to anyone. I mean, even a blooming adolescent (a.k.a teenager) would know that. It is difficult not to gaze upon those little hills (or to depict Pamela Anderson's or Christina Hendrick's: the huge treasure chests). Even for the slow thinker, you must have realize by now there is indeed a reason why women selfies on the internet (or ones that you receive/sent) almost always include these handful part of the bodies. And yes, there is also a reason why boob job is always in popular demand. This is no mystery of life, this is common knowledge.

That asides, the reason I wrote with puns and sexual innuendo is because I don't understand why looking at boobies is widely frowned upon. As the article say, women also look at other women's chest too. I know I do, and I notice my girl friends do too. Well, some of them look at their shoes and hairdo first, each to each own I guess. But for men, well... Quoting the article: "Men look at chests and waists for longer periods of time than they look at faces." Chests and waists are the tell-tale sign of how reproductive a woman is, at least theoretically. Thus it actually make sense if men in general look at women like that. I would be very surprised (and totally freaked out) if a man come to me and said lustily: "You have a very sexy thumb, it arouses me...". This, of course, still a plausible scenario; but again, each to each own.

Here's a picture of my thumb. You are welcome.

Which brings me to another side of the booby-trap, the discomfort and unpleasantness women often feel when men ogling their chests. Men (and some women too), I just want to tell you that although I can understand you throwing glances at a woman's chests, you are not supposed to stare them to eternity. Appreciative glances are ok, the "You... Me... Tonight..." glances are never ok (and ladies, you are welcome to call the police or take action for this). Imagine if someone stare at the bulk in your groin for like a whole minute or more, what would you feel? (I assume the lot of you men would feel uncomfortable, but for those individuals that cherish the pleasure, you're welcome).

Am I being malicious towards my fellow women? Heck no! If you think women wouldn't notice Christian Bale or Channing Tatum crossing the street topless then you got us soooo wrong. I believe that women is also appreciative to men's body, but we just don't show it as open as our male counterpart. Therefore I see no reason why men can't check out women's body, because sure as hell we can check out theirs as well. This is what equality is all about. What confuses me is women who dressed up in low-neck shirts that accentuate their chests, and then complained about being ogled and stated: "I am more than just a set of boobs you know!!". Uhhh.... well then cover up and let me see what you got, because Thelma and Louise kinda distracting me. Yes by the way, I am a straight woman, thanks for asking. It is similar to a man  who decked out with fancy suit and expensive cars (and platinum cards, woohoo!!) and moaned: "I am more than just a stack of money." Yes honey, sure you are, by the way those earrings at Tiffany would look awesome on me, don't you think? Or a man with six pack abs and a killer smile who is so hot he could melt Sauron's ring in a flash: "I am just an ordinary man. I have feelings too." Sure love, I totally get it. What's your phone number again?

We. Must. Not. Ogle

We. Must. Not. Ogle

We. Must. Not...

OMIGOD!!!!

In a shell, given a chance I think women would do exactly what men would do in terms of appreciating the opposite gender's body. Thus unless it is become displeasing and worrisome (seriously, ogling on us too long and make lewd comments or offensive gesture is just so tactless and worth a visit - your visit - to the police), I think people should just chill out with this busty-move, especially in terms of relationship. A lot of women got hung up if they found their partner checking out or complementing other women. I don't think your partner would leave you just because he found other people's breasts fascinating (but if he specifically offer you a boob job to fit his fantasies, you might want to leave him. Or not. Depends whether you want the free boob job or not). If we women get faint and woozy after a seeing Ryan Gosling or Hugh Jackman, let the men have their own fun too. The borderline is, in my opinion, when it becomes disrespectful towards you as the video below comically portray. I mean like, d'oh.



I have boobies and I don't like when people being disrespectful towards me because of them. I don't like when people disrespectful towards me in general, especially for things that I couldn't (and/or wouldn't) change such as my race, my age, my skin color, my nationality, my body shape and size, and all that jazz. I really think that is all there is to it. The issue is not about ogling at boobies, the issue is being respectful vs disrespectful; and as I stated above, the line is pretty clear. We know you guys are fascinated by us, but keep it civil and respectful kay. We'll respect you even more for that, even though you don't have the six pack abs or the legendary Black Amex. See, us women can be judgmental too if we want ;)

Tersandera Buruh dan Tenaga Domestik

Kisruh soal gaji buruh bikin saya teringat "episode" saat salah satu bos saya mencari pembantu baru, kebetulan teman saya yang bertugas mewawancara:

Teman: Gajinya minta berapa mbak?

Pelamar: 800 ribu bersih. Ini ngga termasuk uang kos, cicilan motor, makan dan biaya sehari-hari saya.

Teman: Hah? uang kos dan makan juga kita yang tanggung? Total berapa mbak?

Pelamar: Yah, sekitar 2 juta. Iya, itu semua situ yangg tanggung. Kan situ ga nyari pembantu yang tinggal dalam

Teman: Kalau tinggal dalam minta berapa mbak?

Pelamar: Saya ga mau kalau tinggal dalam

Teman: Oh... Emm... Humm.... (shock)

Pelamar: Oh ya, pulsa juga ya

Teman: Kok tinggi banget mbak mintanya?

Pelamar: Biasa saya kerja sama bule dibayar segitu. Kalau situ ga sanggup ya ga usah.

Teman: Hee???????????????

Acara bersih-bersih tahunan (ceritanya)

Di Bali, lebih sakit hati mencari tenaga kerja rumah tangga (pembantu, sopir, dll) daripada mencari tenaga kantoran. Kalaupun ada, gaji yang diminta selalu selangit dengan alasan orang bule bayar mereka lebih mahal, padahal hasil kerja mereka sering kali dibawah standar. Ini satu lagi alasan mereka, beberapa kali saya menghadapi pelamar yang dengan tegas mengatakan mereka tidak mau kerja kalau tidak dengan bos bule, karena bule lebih royal dan ga banyak cing cong. Intinya mau gaji besar tapi tidak mau kerja maksimal. Waduh... Sementara satu kali ada seorang pelamar yang baru saja selesai kerja di hotel berbintang di Afrika Selatan dengan posisi yang cukup tinggi. Teman saya sampai gemetaran mewawancara orang ini, karena ia melamar untuk posisi sopir. Waktu ditanya kenapa, dia bilang dia asal bisa kerja saja sambil menunggu jawaban untuk lamarannya ke berbagai hotel. Teman saya mengingatkan bahwa pekerjaan ini "kasar", karena termasuk cuci mobil dan sebagainya, dan dia cuma tersenyum dan bilang: yang penting kerja mbak. Sayangnya kami tidak bisa menerima orang ini karena dia over qualified dan kami butuh driver yang permanen. 

Kalau dipikir-pikir ironis sekali, seberapa sering sih kita yang pegang ijazah saat wawancara bisa dengan pedenya bersikap: "Kalau loe ga sanggup hire gue ya ga usah!" dan mendikte bos kita? Seberapa sering sih kita dipertahankan di perusahaan walau kelakuan kita jelek banget dan hasil kerja kita ga beres? Si bapak yang pernah kerja di AfSel saja mau humble dan mengerti ia butuh pekerjaan, sementara si mbok yang cuma bisa ngetik SMS berani belagu dan menuntut ini itu. Kayanya kita yang pekerja kantoran bisa diganti dengan amat sangat mudah, kayanya kita ga ada artinya. Ironis bahwa kita yang bekerja keras dan mengeluarkan uang yang tidak sedikit untuk pendidikan punya nilai jual yang lebih rendah daripada tenaga domestik yang pendidikannya SMA.

Saya selalu respek dengan tenaga domestik. Waktu saya kecil keluarga saya selalu punya Mbok yang membantu mama dirumah. Biasanya Mbok-mbok ini datang benar-benar tidak tahu apa-apa, dan setelah setahun-dua kerja di rumah saya "lulus" dengan pengetahuan penuh: memasak, memakai mesin cuci, dsb; mereka lalu bisa mendapatkan pekerjaan yang gajinya lebih bagus. Ini yang saya hargai, niat untuk memperbaiki diri, bukan cuma menuntut hak tapi juga melakukan kewajiban. Sayangnya mbok-mbok sekarang lebih hobi pegang hape daripada kerja, karena tau ibu-ibu yang desperate untuk bantuan mereka ga akan berani protes rumah kurang bersih etc karena kalau bukan mereka mau cari dimana lagi? Buat saya, ini rasanya kaya pemerasan banget. Begitu halnya dengan buruh. Kita butuh mereka, mereka butuh pekerjaan, tapi kenapa mereka yang mendikte kita? Yang anarkis dan mengancam kita? Kalau kita ga mau pakai mereka, mereka juga rugi kok. Saya merasa tersandera dengan orang-orang ini.

Di Amerika, tenaga pembantu domestik atau kerennya domestic cleaning service itu muahal, $100/2 jam, misalnya saja tempat ini. Tapi hasilnya jangan ditanya, rapi jali bo'! Ini yang resmi ya, yang berijin dll. Namun banyak juga imigran yang menawarkan jasa mereka lebih murah (ini tanpa ijin ya), masalahnya kebanyakan dari mereka bahkan tidak bisa bahasa Inggris, dan kalau ada apa-apa juga sulit lapor ke polisi karena banyak dari mereka yang sebenarnya imigran ilegal. Seandainya saja di Indonesia ada yang model begini: yang bisa direview dan perusahaannya benar-benar service oriented. Atau persatuan buruh yang isinya tenaga-tenaga buruh profesional yang kerjanya efisien dan cepat mengerti. Kalau pembantu banyak sih seperti itu, tapi biasanya yang ada di Indonesia cuma mentarget seberapa banyak pembantu yang bisa "keluar"; begitu pula persatuan buruh yang saya sebut, itu ada dan istilahnya outsourcing, yang lagi-lagi cuma bikin buruh/membernya sapi perahan. 

Saya pendukung berat persamaan derajat dan membantu kaum miskin, tapi sori banget, sudah ga jaman lagi demo-demo minta gaji besar dengan pendidikan minim (dan hasil kerja yang mengenaskan). Miris banget kan membaca mereka minta gaji sampai 4 juta, tapi "anggaran pendidikan" mereka cuma Rp 15,000 untuk beli koran/tabloid. Itu cuma dapat 2 tabloid lho, karena koran saja harganya Rp 3,000 seharinya. Apa sih yang bisa dipelajari dari tabloid Indonesia? Bola, motor, atau gosip? Buat saya argumen "wong cilik" mereka patah begitu mereka menuntut rumah 3 petak, belanja baju Rp 300,000 per bulan, dan makan diluar (plus susu, kopi, teh, dan buah) tiap hari. Ini bukan "wong cilik" lagi, yang pegawai kantoran saja tidak bisa hidup seenak ini. Bukan "wong cilik" kalau bilang jumlah sekian "penghinaan" karena banyak masyarakat Indonesia yang cukup atau bahkan sangat bahagia dapat gaji 2,4 juta rupiah. Dan kalau mereka merasa berhak dapat gaji sekian, maka sopir mikrolet metromini dan angkot lainnya juga berhak dapat gaji/pendapatan sekian karena mereka juga "wong cilik". Siap-siap deh ongkos angkot naik, eh tapi nanti mas-mas tercinta butuh kenaikan lagi dong... Emang loe pikir duit cuma tinggal nyetak aja??? Argumen "wong cilik" mereka juga jelas patah begitu mereka melakukan tindakan anarkis atau merugikan masyarakat luas. Sori bro, gue kesian kalau hidup loe susah, tapi jangan nyerang atau nyalahin gue kalau loe sirik sama hidup gue, jangan maksa gue nanggung defisit hidup loe dan bikin loe punya hal-hal yang gw punya. Gue ga nyolong dari elo ato nyusahin elo kok!

Yang Indonesia butuhkan adalah keprofesionalan, dan orang-orang yang service oriented. Saya membayangkan di Indonesia ada grup tenaga domestik yang dikontrol ketat, yang hasil kerjanya memuaskan dan bisa dipercaya; tidak masalah kalau yang bisa dilayani hanya segelintir orang, karena dengan sendirinya grup ini akan selalu dicari dan bisa pasang harga lebih mahal. Begitu pula dengan tenaga buruh atau pekerja lainnya, yang isinya orang-orang yang secara aktif memajukan diri mereka misalnya belajar komputer, bahasa asing, dan lain-lain. Istilahnya, kalau anda tidak oke dalam pekerjaan anda (walaupun itu kerja kasar sekalipun), maka good bye selamat tinggal. Jeleknya mimpi ini adalah, bila terwujud maka tenaga domestik tidak terjangkau lagi bagi kebanyakan masyarakat Indonesia (sekarang pun sudah sulit sebenarnya). Tapi serius, apa anda benar-benar rela dipaksa membayar mahal untuk hasil kerja yang tidak seberapa? Sudah saatnya pistol itu diturunkan. Saya bosan disandera seperti ini.