Lunch for The Travelling Girl

Dear lady who bought me lunch today,

Thank you for the gesture.

You saw me panicking and ransacking my bag at the cashier earlier today. You must have seen all the mess and chaos in my backpack: the cables, the books, the computer, the plastic bags from my recent purchases. You asked me if I am a travelling girl and offered to pay for my lunch. I tried to refuse but you insisted.

I don't even know what 'travelling girl' means. I really don't. Does that mean that you think I am homeless? Or that I travel around by myself to see the world? But I have a place to come home to. And I did not travel around only armed with my backpack. I was only in the area to wait for my husband to finish his work hour.

Yet in a way, I am a travelling girl. I am thousands of miles away from the place that I called my true home. Everyday is a learning experience for me these days as I try to adapt myself in this new found land. Two years and counting, and I am still 'travelling' in this country called USA. Every time I hop on a bus or train I would armed myself with my backpack, all ready for the world. This is a habit I have ever since I was a young girl in my hometown Jakarta. You'll never know what the road has to offer, especially when you are so far away from home. Every time I am out there, I see all sorts of things: smiles and sadness, amusing things and shocking things, the beautiful and the not-so beautiful. Every time I walked outside my door the world open itself before me just like a mystery chest. I do not know what the day would bring, but I know each day is an adventure, each day teaches me something new, each day is another special day. 

Even within me I also travel. Each day my soul travel further within myself: understanding more about myself and people that I love, going further and deeper to achieve the peace and happiness. Debating and reasoning and then accepting, are those not a journey that one must travel to? As a writer, my journey does not end with myself. I tell the stories to my reader, and embarking in another journey with them in hope that they too can find the way to their happiness, to achieve understanding and acceptance in order to finally see the beauty of life and the peace within. I do not travel by myself, I also travel with others. I traveled both physically and mentally, and the journey never ends. It can be tiresome and lonely, and I've started losing myself little by little. But then you showed up, dear lady.

Today my travel taught me about kindness. I could have said no to your offer, dear lady. I have enough money to pay for the lunch, and I suspect I am not a travelling girl in the way you might have thought. But it all happened so fast and I was so perplexed that I blurted a 'Yes' without thinking carefully. If you ever read this article, you might be disappointed in me. If you are, I beg your forgiveness dear lady. I want you to know though that your kind gesture leaving me feeling emotionally satiated. I want you to know that I have unknowingly harbored negative and cynical views of the world, thanks to the hatred and ignorance spread in every media around us. Your kindness wiped it all away. 

I am but in the beginning of my journey, and there will be trials along the road. And if I stumble along the way, if I ever break down and wanted to give up, I will read this post for my strength. I will remember the kind lady that showed me the world can be a nice, giving place. I will remember her smile and how she said I am such a sweetheart when I flustered and repeatedly told her 'thank you' in my goofy way. I will remember that I am loved and that I am too, precious in my own way. Thank you once again, dear lady. I will spread your kindness to another 'travelling girl' at the first opportunity I have, but for now, please accept this humble thanks for the kindness you have shown me. The lunch only cost you less than $6, but the kindness that you gave me is priceless. 

Thank you so much.

White, Black, Discrimination, and An Indonesian in Between

Just like the author, my husband had a biracial daughter and biracial son. Oddly enough, I don't think any of the author's concern ever popped up in any of our conversation regarding the children's future. They are both light-skinned, but he assured me that anyone with black ancestry could easily figure out that they come from black descendant. Nevertheless we are more worried about how they can cope up with the already difficult and sometimes nonsense life in America, and more importantly, how they can open their eyes and accept the world in all its glory. Their mothers are accomplished women on their own, I guess that's also one of the reason why we wasn't that worried. 

Being an immigrant, it's always difficult to read about things like this. If we are talking about discrimination, frisking, and all that jazz, I would like to point out that I have to have my green card with me all the time when I am in the state of Arizona. I don't think Iggy Azalea would have that problem even though she was an illegal immigrant for 6 years. A friend of ours who is a Hispanic descendants told us she was frequently stopped at border patrol station, and at times even have to explain on how she was driving with a truck that was registered under somebody else's name (which is her husband). She is a natural-born American. My cousin wanted to take the Greyhound bus to visit me in LA, I urged him to think twice and look for other alternatives because I am very afraid that he would get harassed and bothered during the lengthy (more than 24 hours) trip. I went on a bus ride in Los Angeles and there was an intoxicated young black man busy harassing a Hispanic woman, calling her names and such. It was only a 10 minutes ride. 

Immigrants are always at odds. An agent from the Child Service Agency was positively aghast and in awe when I could answer her back in English and phrase my words more eloquently than she could. But even before I arrive in US, I have been a subject of doubts with many of husband's friends and family tried to talked him out of our relationship because they believe my motive is not love. How is that for prejudice? As for job opportunity, despite my stellar skills and impressive track record I have yet to secure even a single job in US, and only gotten about 3 or 4 interviews so far. I may have applied to the wrong companies for the last 2 months, but the fact is that my other friend from Indonesia has been applying for work since December 2012 and had only acquired one this month, and her field was more specific than mine. She got it only after she took courses in America, despite her own already qualifying education and lengthy job experience in Indonesia. It's like catch 22: I can get a job if I can show I have the experience, but how can I have the experience without getting a job first? This sounds unfair, and it is. Can I considered this as racism? I can, but I would choose not to. It sucks, but I am aware that if I were in their shoes, I would also thought hard about choosing someone from a country that I never even knew existed; even someone with American education and job experience can be a bit dim, why risk with someone who had none?  

Discrimination with a hint of slavery is not unfamiliar for Indonesia people. Some Indonesian, thanks to the Dutch that colonized (read: take over our land, enslaved our people, and dried out our resources for their own profit) Indonesia for more than 350 years, still have the slave-master mentality. These Indonesian think the white men are better than the Indonesian, and adore anything western. A great number of Indonesian celebrities are half Caucasian, people who went to western countries for their education (Australia, US, etc) are also considered more worthy than people who were just educated in Indonesia. I myself have enjoyed this obvious racial prejudice for a while, getting to have a well-paid jobs just because I happen to be fluent in English. To make matter worst, apparently a vast majority (if not all) tourists from western countries still have Allen Quatermain's 1800's way of thinking: that we Indonesian are a bunch of barbaric lawless uneducated people. Stories about how foreign business proprietor treat their local employees in a way that would not be accepted if it's done in their own countries (inhumane, disrespectful, unfair) are dime a dozen in Bali. These foreigners also demanded a higher salary and/or fee than the locals, and they will get it even though some of them work there illegally. I accompanied a western friend to a business meeting where, after he got a little too cozy and apparently forgot that I am Balinese, divulged that he hated Balinese and he thought they were just a group of greedy MFs. The potential clients kept glancing at me in horror and I could tell she was absolutely uncomfortable being caught in that situation. He didn't get the job, of course. 

If at this point you already said in the top of your head, "White man is the worse!" then allow me to rectify that. White man is not the worse. Discrimination is, and it is done not only by white men. Discrimination, or should I say fear for something different, happens everywhere and being done by everyone in this world. It is not only the white that discriminates (me as) an immigrant, the black also did the same, and even in the immigrant circle that would ascertain where you stand in the pecking order. My white husband can easily do all of the 7 points that the author wrote, but get this, people could still complain that he achieve all of that because he is white. "Of course he could get that education, he is white. Of course he can go anywhere he wants, he is white. Of course he can protest, he is white." Which sounds like a discrimination to me. You know what he can't do? He can't walked in a predominantly black or Hispanic neighborhood without looking so out of place and worried he'd get mugged or harmed. This is not a baseless fear, he can't even walked in LA without somebody asking him for change, while I can walked about without being bothered. He married a black woman for 10 years and in the end he still doesn't get accepted in the bro clique. When he casually told our waitress in a Colombian restaurant that he was born in Latin America she asked, "How come? You are white!" although to me the waiter looked as fair skinned as he is. He is also a 'target' back in Indonesia, where people charge him for things many times more than they would usually charge the locals because of his skin color. Is this all not discrimination?

When my cousin first came to US, he told me how his fellow student from Africa received harsh discrimination in the suburb area where they live, with people locking their apartment doors whenever the dark-skinned students walked by. It exists. It is painful. It is unfair. The question now, what can we do about it? You can't forced someone to change their perspective towards you, however, you can always offered a new, more favorable perspective. 

A few weeks ago I saw a black woman got denied entry in the Social Security office in Downtown LA because she carried prohibited items in her bag. She was told to leave the items outside the building, and she wasn't taking it. She cussed and insult the officers, even went as far as accusing them to target her and trying to prevent her from completing her business in the office. The officers, naturally, gradually became harsher and harsher towards her with every angry and insulting comments she made. The thing is, I knew for a fact that just a few minutes before her a black woman and her grandma was also denied entry, this time because her stiletto looked like it can be use as a weapon. She manage to resolve it gracefully and got inside in less than five minutes without any voiced raised. A few minutes before her my white husband was also denied entry, this time over a mini screwdriver. And in the morning a white woman was denied entry because she had some lead pipe pieces in her pants. And just before that, I had to go back home because I had accidentally brought a Tasser with me to the office. I was denied entry as well, but the atmosphere were much lighter back then compared to when they were dealing with the angry black woman. If anything, it should be more strenuous because stun gun is actually a dangerous weapon; but I was laughing and being polite all round, and the officers even made jokes with it and invited me to come straight back without waiting in line once I have placed the stun gun in a secure place. Mind you, I look very foreign and anyone who saw me would know instantly that I am not American. Shouldn't I be considered more dangerous than the other 'suspects'?

The story above has two significance. The first is the significance of attitude. Considered yourself in the officers' shoes, which person that you dislike most? Naturally, it would be the angry black woman (even though my stubborn white husband would probably come second since he too was very vocal about having to secure the insignificant screwdriver elsewhere). Then, you would undoubtedly resort to the readily-available stereotyping that black people are violent and unreasonable. It is always easier to generalized people according to the already popular belief, especially if it's a negative belief. It's like saying all Muslim are evil, all white girls drink Starbucks, all straight Christians hate gays, all third-world-country people are uneducated; even if there's only a few people that actually do that in each respective group, it is enough for others to condemn all the group members as a whole. The fact that there was another black woman that was not angry or violent may not even registered in your mind, or if it was registered you would label her as an outlier. 

When I told my cousin that the black people in America scared me, I did not think about my husband's exes or his friends from high school, I did not think about the young man from Mississippi that I helped at a TAP Metro station or the old man that chat with me on the train to Culver City, I did not think about our eccentric neighbor or anyone in LA that has been so generous to me with their smile and assistance. When I told my cousin that the black people in America scared me, I was thinking about the verily drunk man that pulled the zipper on my backpack and went on an expletive-laden tirade because I was apparently blocking his way (I was not) and then proceed to harass my husband, even though he was with his toddler child, for some money. I was thinking about all the other people with smug look in their face when they stopped and asked us for money, even settling with slices of our pizza as if we owed them something. I was thinking about the rap songs that is filled with expletive and violence and glorified criminality. This, mind you, is how someone who is not tainted with American culture sees what's happening in America, how someone who is not brainwashed, so to speak, about white supremacy sees what's happening in America. Attitude matters, I always say to my Muslim friends. It is not enough to quietly disagree with the violent way a very few Muslim behave, they need to speak up and show the world that terrorist way is not equivalent to Islam's way. Can't this be a similar approach to the black people in America?

The second significance from that story is to try to keep your head clear. The angry woman accused that she was targeted, when actually other people had been denied entry as well. I don't know what it's like to live as a black in America, but I know what it's like to live as a minority in Indonesia. When we live in the outskirt of Jakarta where Hindu is minority it is very difficult for us to build temple/praying site, with neighbors looking at the temple in our house as if it was the devil's shrine and some other people throwing human feces to the Hindu community's newly-built main temple, the only one in miles around. The education level in some places in Indonesia were very low, and it makes them an easy target for "Salem Witch" type of riots, where innocents people would be persecuted and harmed if they were from different tribe or religion. In the big 1998 riot, churches and other praying sites were burned, the Indonesian-Chinese were robbed, raped, killed. Even now, there are still religious leaders and groups that spread out false accusations and inflames hatred towards other religion. And yes, the living condition in Indonesia is not as benefiting as the living condition in America. How'd you like that? I didn't froze and lament on my unfortunate situation. I can't (and won't) change the fact that I am not the majority, or the fact that there will be ignorant out there that would harm me if they can. To me, the only option is to keep moving forward, to keep improving myself, because for hell I don't want to be stepped on by anyone. Anger and self-pity won't get you anywhere, because it could work as an excuse when you actually haven't done your best. You just have to keep moving forward and focus on yourself.

One thing that always amazes me is the amount of information and self-education you can easily get in US. Unlike Indonesia, even the smallest libraries here have decent amount of books and Wi-fis are available almost anywhere, and books can even be owned for as little as 50 cent from Friends of The Library. I had to taught myself English through books/songs/movies, Internet is slow and expensive, and books are difficult to come by. At times I would stand for 4 hours just to finish reading a book at the bookstore (because it was too expensive to buy it). Yet here I am in America. My career has been illustrious to say the least: A medical graduates, an English teacher, a wedding consultant for high-end clienteles, and a budding writer that just won her first commendation. Mind you, I was the only dark-skinned person in the ceremony and I heavily suspect I am the only one that is not American as well. If I could do all of this, why can't others? 

For all that matters, it is unfathomable for me and my husband to say: "I wish our child(ren) would stay white" in order for them to be able to do things that my husband could do because of his so-called white privilege. The world is rapidly changing, battles lost and won, wars started and ended. It is far more important for us to teach our children about the dynamics of the world, about how to be good and nice and strong, and how to keep themselves from harm's way. We can't protect them from the ignorant people that could hate them because of, well, anything actually; but we can taught them pride and that mindless haters are just a part of this world as termite and zombie bees (albeit with more annoying quality). Everyone got discriminated one way or another, and it's happening all over the world because the majority of humans right now is a bunch of d*ck who can't come to term with their own insecurity and jealousy. Why fear the inevitable? 

Good Morning Los Angeles

Good morning Los Angeles, I love you today.

For the first time ever I see a cloudy, chilly Los Angeles morning. It seems kinder and less menacing than the usual harsh sunny Los Angeles mornings. It makes me feel good and full of hope. I can do this. I know I can do this.

I like LA for all its worth. It is full of diversity and thriving with life. The downtown area is enchanting and fun, while our little neighborhood is full with families and children's laughter can be heard from the alleyway on sunny afternoons. It is far more alive than any other cities in US that I have ever been to, and so far, far more exciting. There are always new things to do, new museums to visit, new adventures to experienced; it is a place where taking home your pizza in whole is an adventure in itself. But I am so far from all of those. Even though we would roam the city now and then, I stayed home most of the time trying to write and get my life in order. Slowly but sure the loneliness is killing me, and as now I have give up full time writing and focus on trying to get a job instead. I have no friends here that I can talk with in daily basis, and I barely meet anyone except when I go out for an errand. The only way I can be a part of the community again is to join one, yet I am struggling to do so. A job would be an ideal gateway to the community, but I have been wallowing in despair instead. 

I have always seen myself as the dream maker, and I love it. I lured and wowed my clients, promising them a slice of heaven and delivering that promise to them. All of these were achieved with minimal tools/equipment, and with a carte blanche from my superior. I can do whatever I want to do to ensure the customer's satisfaction, so I did. It was creative, it was challenging, it was fun. Yet here in LA, I have yet to see any job vacancy that came even close to what I did back home. Everything seemed so dull and repetitive; and I can't imagine myself, after being so used with making dreams come true, to be another anonymous copying and faxing and filing, or making countless phone calls to 'leads' and tried to assigned them to a service they do not need. I can't help feeling in despair, that from being drive by chauffeur to fancy resorts and helping to make weddings worth thousands of dollars come true, I had to resort in being the small fish, or even tadpole, in the pond. Which I never did in the first place. I had the luck to somehow manage to land myself in good companies, ones that are considered 'better' than their competitors. I am the posh girl, or was.

It is ancient history, though. Here I am, not in Bali or Jakarta. Here my English skill is not my trump card anymore, as it has been since my professional years; here it is a hindrance. Where before I used my English to get my foot in the door and let my professional skills slid by as an afterthought, here I have to convince my future employers about my professional skills and hope they won't make too much fuss about my imperfect English. If I can sell a $1500 short-time photography package by emails only (and to people that live thousands of miles away), then I can 'sell' myself as effective as well. Even if I had to start from the bottom, I know I am smart enough to race myself to the top. I can do this. Isn't it amazing on how big of a difference the mood of the sky could make? I know I won't have such determination if I started the day with the heat of Los Angeles sun blasting through, yet this outcast weather showed me that the city is conquerable, that there is still hope.

I want to do more in this city. I want to be successful in this city, at least successful enough so I can do simple things that I like, such as eating ramen at Little Tokyo or visiting all of Los Angeles' museums. I want to have friends and feel how it is like to be a part of this community, this vibrant city. I want to feel home in this city. All of those require me to snap out from my despair and to conquer my fear, to courageously go where I have never gone before. I am scared, I am frightened, I want to go home. Yet this is my home, at least for now; and I refuse to let life and fear defeat me. I will stumble along the way, crying in despair: "No more, no more", but I will and I have to keep on moving. This is my life. I can make it work. I can do this.

How to Debug Your Ignorance

After a lengthy hiatus I am forced to browse US news again in order to improve my rapidly declining English skill. I had stopped reading articles from US media outlets in the internet ever since my husband and I went to live in Indonesia last April, and at last I found peace in me. Don't get me wrong, sometimes there are interesting and informative things that you can read in the news. On our evening stroll my husband and I would take turn to tell highlights of our day, he usually talks about his work and I would tell him about interesting news in the internet. They are sources of great discussion and sometimes even great fun. Yet the majority of the news can be biased and ignorant, and even the ones that is pretty cool and unbiased can be easily tainted with the hateful and ignorant comments on the article.

Comments on this NBC News article, for example:

- Don't use such tragedy to make a case against gun control when it is not even your country.

- White people are not stupid to go to the land of people with colors. And as far as I'm concerned, white is also a color.

- Thailand is NOT predominantly Moslem, and even if it is there is no reason why it should be an issue. My husband and I stayed in Indonesia, a predominantly Muslim country, and we are doing just fine.

- There is no such thing as hatred against westerners. Why bother killing if the tourists can be kept alive as cash cows?

Of all the things that these people could say, such as the need to be alert and respectful in somebody's land, all they can mouth about is their own ignorance. It's no wonder I stopped reading news altogether. Yet I needed the news channel to help me keep my English skill on track. As a non-native English speaker, I have to practice my English mainly through reading and listening to capture and copy the little details of English language. I know, grammatically, when to use 'she' instead of 'he' or when to use past participle instead of the present participle. I could easily score high points on written English test, but all of these knowledge is useless in day-to-day conversation. The only way to be proficient in English, or in any language in that matter, is to keep on practicing and using it. Therefore, I need all the up to date reading materials that I could find. Honestly, those news article wasn't so bad as long as I can skilfully choose which one that would benefit me instead of upsetting me, and as long as I can steer clear from the comments. Yes, it is the shameful voice of defeat.

Nevertheless, as I observe the beautiful vista of Los Angeles from our fourth story apartment I can't help feeling sorry for those ignorant people, and at the same time wonder why they could even be ignorant with such perk and access that America has to offer. Trolls of the Internet are everywhere, and I have seen them in Indonesian news channel as well. They radiate the same hatred and ignorance, the same cowardice mentality and mean predisposition. The difference is, I would expect more from people of America. Although internet literacy or even access might be limited to a lot of Americans as well, it is not as severe as in Indonesia where there isn't even enough road to connect one area to the other, let alone having internet access. The anti-discrimination policy is upheld strongly in America, and the fact that America consists mainly of immigrants made assimilation (should be) easier. The sheer size of America combined with the ease of access between and within the states also promises great diversity that one can easily observes and learn from. In Indonesia, there is no strong anti-discriminatory law, each tribe is indigenous from their own area and therefore more reluctant to accept new things, and there are little access to other areas of Indonesia except for the big cities which makes traveling expensive and reduce the chance of understanding other people from other part of Indonesia. With this kind of obstacles, ignorance is inevitable. America can do so much better.

Having said that, ignorance can also be a choice. It can be caused by the lack of understanding due to difficulties as I stated above, but it can also be a conscious decision made by a person because they wish to belief what they belief and choose not to belief on what other has to say. During the last presidential election in Indonesia I found a number of my Facebook friend re-posting and commenting on articles that were either unfounded or even blatant lie, yet they believe those false articles and took it to their heart. These people are educated people with Master Degree and high ranking employers of Indonesia's top firms and companies, mind you. Having access [to information] does not guarantee you to be less ignorant than those who have less or no access. Just like growing old versus maturity, it all comes down to what we choose to be. Shedding your ignorance is not really that hard to do, all you need is just a willingness to open your eyes and ears to see and listen to what other people's lives are like. Not knowing about other countries, for instance, does not always mean that one is ignorant; yet failure or refusal to understanding and accepting differences about other country [or people] is an example of ignorance. 

Why does it matter? It matters because ignorance narrowed down your mind, whereas acceptance broaden it. We always wanted to have a good life, and to a vast majority of people it means to keep ourselves either bodily healthy (medicine, organic food, healthy lifestyle) or bodily satiated (entertainment, expensive gadgets, luxurious lifestyle). Yet good life can also means living your life without fear or drama, and that can be easily achieve once we got a better understanding about other people, instead of busy hating or fearing them, or even dwell a little too comfortable in our own imagination about other people. You can live your life unobtrusively even if you are an ignorant, but you can also not be one and have a far better quality of life. Now, which one would you choose? 

America The Beautiful

Sunset at Plains of San Agustin, NM

One Friday morning my husband sleepily said: "Let's go on a road trip." I looked at him confusedly, since we were still in bed and haven't even fully wake up yet. I said to him, "Okay, where and when do you want to go?" He grinned at me and answered: "New Mexico. We will leave in an hour." With that he jumped off the bed, telling me to pack while he browse for hotel and that we will have breakfast en route. And so we did.

Coming from Indonesia, I am always curious and excited about seeing more of USA. After all, it is my current residence country and I will stay here for quite a while. Loving or even accepting that I will spend my life here was not always easy though. For the first nine months I was sort of home bound, I didn't have work permit yet so when my husband off to work I had to stay behind. I would walked to grocery store, took a bus to meet my husband for lunch, joined a writers club, but I made no substantial friend and for those nine months the only US phone numbers in my phone book are my husband's, a friend of his, and a friend of mine in Minneapolis. This was just about as much as I know about US. I rely on internet news outlets to know more of what happened in US, and it wasn't pretty. Violence everywhere, gun maniacs abound, irresponsible parents, careless youngsters, the "me, Me, ME!" attitude, these were all I saw and shaped my image of USA. Even when you read an especially touching and make-you-feel-good news article, all you need to do is scroll down to the comment section to have your faith in humanity broken again. Such was the USA that I know, and I would often cried bitterly inside wishing that I could return and stay in Indonesia instead.

Catalina State Park, AZ

Yet as I stood on The Plain of San Agustin with the bright full moon and the prettiest, clearest night sky above me I couldn't help but saying aloud: "This is America. This is the real America".

What people, both abroad and within USA itself, fail to understand is how big USA is. It is massive, and each part of USA is beautiful in its own way. A friend of mine from Kansas told me all about the part of Kansas they lived in: the tall weeds, the wildflowers in summer, the chickens they kept, the vast area they call home. She described it in such way that I could see the glimmer of love in her eyes, and I knew how precious it was all to her. She wasn't even American. A friend in Minneapolis texted me a picture of a snowy day one time, and I was amazed because that day in California was a somewhat sunny day. This all happened within one country. When we take our monthly road commute from California to Arizona it is always a treat to see how the vista changes and how the landscape and vegetation differs from one another, and it was enchanting to go from Arizona and see New Mexico for the first time with all its green vegetation and vast plains. A guy in Arizona once told me he had never seen the sea. As someone who grew up from an country made of several thousand islands, I find it both shocking and hard to believe. Yet it describes perfectly of what USA really is, a land so vast, a country so big that one states to the other would have such different characteristic yet so advanced and so well maintained that the (roughly) 400 miles distance between Tucson to Magdalena can be reached with only 6 hours. As a comparison, going around the island of Bali with motorcycle will take about 2 days, that means it roughly took 16 hours to travel 250 miles distance.

Picnic at The Getty, CA

Nevertheless, it is not just the land that describes USA. It is also about the people. It is about the friendly waitress at a diner in Datil that, when I told her I never had Pecan Pie before, happily gave me an extra slice because "It is so good!". It is about the quaint little Mexican food restaurant in Hatch with an old cabinet as decoration filled with books - both old and new, and the most delicious red chili enchilada I've ever had. It is about the friendly cashier at Tucson's Wildlife Museum's gift shop, who was ever so enthusiast to helped us and even joining our little family to try Salt 'n Vinegar Cricket, much to the delight of our six year old. It is about the man at an automotive store in Tucson that claimed there was nothing to see at sea, only sharks; and which his co-worker retort: "there are sharks on NYC too, but people go there". It is about our cool waitress at a bar in Dana Point who smilingly gave my friend a hug when she asked for one, even though it was clear she was not sober anymore. It is about the soft-spoken sales attendant in a firework shop between Arizona and New Mexico that proudly show some pictures he took when he visited California and found himself at a close proximity with an ongoing SWAT Team raid. It is about our nice cashier at an Albertson's in Costa Mesa that always manage to sneak us some extra stamps for the point program I had my eyes on. It is about all of those and more.

Roadside curios - between AZ and NM

My husband told me in the olden days people really like to do road trips, and he had such fond memories about the road trips he took with his dad where they would camp and go fishing and do all kind of fun things while driving from New Mexico to Arizona. We stopped at The Thing en route to New Mexico and he explained that those roadside attractions were famous in their heyday, providing entertainment for the children (and brief respite for their parents) on their road trip, since iPads and mobile phones and other 'electronic pacifier' didn't exist back then. I thought to myself, what a great way to see their country! As I mentioned above, it took far longer time for me to do road trip within Indonesia, both because of the road condition and also because we practically divided by sea and the ferries are not reliable at all; thus I am so envious with the ease of connections that the Americans have within their country. USA is about the driving through the sunset on the Plain of San Agustin with the VLA (and jackrabbits and pronghorns) in the background. USA is about immersing in joy and excitement at Santa Monica pier. USA is about appreciating art at The Getty (and the most delicious hot link pastrami burger at Hawkins). USA is about cuddling and enjoying the comfort of your home when the Tucson monsoon rain comes. USA is about a big country that offers a multitude of adventures and different culture and life style in its every part.

A lot of people don't realize this though. You can easily found these Americans in the comment section of any article (especially controversial ones), spouting their own belief and parading their ignorance. As for the people abroad, there are a lot of people who thinks US is the spawn of devil itself thanks to the war it inflicts to the world. Even though US have its own policy as the 'defender of democracy' and that most American citizens are unlikely to be the one that asked the government to wage war, it does not matter to the outside world who is adamant to claim that US is 'The Bad Guy'. But then again, does what outside people think about US really matters? As an outsider who currently resides in USA, the answer, for me, is that it doesn't matter. It's like when you were called fat or ugly, it hurts but nothing that anyone say about you can actually create a difference on how you look. It's how you see yourself that matters. And that is why I wrote this article. It is a selfish move, mind you. People who love and embrace themselves, or in this case, their country wholeheartedly are friendlier and far easier to deal with than dissatisfied ones. Who doesn't want to live in a place where everyone is happy and friendly? But even without that not-so-hidden motive, I feel I have been granted a precious opportunity to see USA from a fresh perspectives. I like what I see, and I hope to share this view with many others. Say what you want, complained and whine as you wish, but leave a room in your heart to properly see how beautiful and special your country is, and that she is indeed 'America, The Beautiful'.

I Just Want To Go Home

It's Friday, 6.30 am in Bali, Indonesia. My mom would already be off to the market to buy fresh vegetables and meat for today's meal. My youngest brother would be in the shower, getting ready to go to school. My other brother would still be in bed, sleepily resting from his late-night wondering. My elder sister would wake my little nephew patiently for his school, too; and boiling water to make tea and milk. He (my nephew) would staggered sleepily to the sofa, and laying there with his bottle of milk, watching morning cartoon. My dad would come from his pavilion and sat on the sofa too, teasing my nephew and trying to win the remote control back. At that point my mom would be back, with plastic bags filled with groceries hanging from her scooter. My brother in law, who would be watering the plant then, would helped my mom with the groceries, as well as my youngest brother (who only done so with my mom's strict request/yelling). She would come to the front door laden with grocery bags and scolded my dad for teasing my nephew, and will kick the door to my brothers' room to wake my sleeping brother. A cup of coffee and a small traditional cake would be deposited on the patio table, where my dad would sat and enjoy while reading a newspaper and smoking his cigarette. Then they would all go, one by one. My youngest brother would go first, because he is the nice-kid-you-want-to-date type of kid and hates to be late. My younger brother would go next, because he is a rebel type of kid (or asshole, depends on the situation) and he didn't give much care on things. Then my brother in law. Then my little nephew, walking to his nearby kindergarten with his mom. Then my sister, after returning from my nephew's kindergarten. Every single one of them would give my mom - who would be cooking in the kitchen - a kiss in the cheek, every single one of them would give my dad a cheery wave and the customary "Going now, dad!" (in exception to my nephew, who would give both my mom and dad a kiss and a hug), every single one of them would say hi and greet my grandfather (if he happen to woke up and fiddling with the front yard garden). And with that, our morning ritual ends.

Lazy brunch with mom and my little sister

I miss my family so much that it hurts. But what I really missed most was these interactions, these jewels of human relations. We don't have much, and at times we don't have any. A liter of soda is considered a feat, and we shared it with the 9 of us. Our meal is a chicken divided into 14 pieces to accommodate every one, or two slices of meat as big as a thumb. My nephew's toys were inexpensive, yet he could easily change a chair and helmet and other mundane daily object into his own racing bike or train or whatever he wanted. My brothers have a second-hand PlayStation2, which they were obliged to share with each other (and occasionally my nephew). And that is all there is to it: Share. None of us hoard our food or our belonging. The rule of the thumb is that if you decided to eat food at the house, prepare to share. If one of my brother opens a bag of chip at home, everyone could stop and ask to sample it. And even if you played secrecy and eat it in your room, you'd eventually share, at least with my mom. Not because she wanted to, but out of respect since she was indeed, the lady of the house. And that's one more thing: respect is earned, not demanded. My mom and dad never demand us to respect her, but what else can you give for someone who had worked themselves out just to ensure you have a good education (all the way through college) and good future ahead? If they had demanded me respect for those reasons, I would've hated them. Education and future is a child's right, not a privilege that parents can give the child and he/she should be grateful for it. But my mom and dad did not demand that respect, nor do they complain on the cost of raising us, and for that they earned our highest respect. These little things are what have been keeping me alive. It is a strong pillar which I can hold on to and not get lost in this harsh, cruel world. Yet now I lost that pillar. And thus, I lost myself. 

The boys

I met some really nice people here, but there were too many insecurities. I talked to some of them and despite our pleasant conversation, I could always feel their insecurities deep down inside. And plain jealousy. And indifference. And no respect. I saw children hooked on games on their cell phones during dinner parties, seemed oblivious and careless about the world around them. I mentioned this at a dinner party, and a man in his mid thirties gracefully explained, "Well I think I have seen more in my lifetime than you, and you need to realize that...." which then followed with an excuse why I should understand these rascals' behavior. And that is the other thing: I don't take excuses. This is not to say I refuse to understand on why people behave the certain way they do, I would and I have been preaching on better understanding on people in general. But I would not take an excuse that aimed to justify the said behavior. For instance: "You don't know how to speak nicely because your parents cussed you all the time? I am sorry to hear that, and I would tolerate your cussing now and then, but you need to understand that it is unpleasant for me, and for your own sake learn to try to speak politely." See how civilized it is? But what happen is these jerks keep pulling the same stunt and again and again blame their parents/government/world/mental health for their behavior instead of forcing themselves to fix themselves. And coming from where I am, it is incredibly hard to have pity and understanding and tolerate the selfish behaviors when people here have a lot more to be grateful for. Life doesn't take our sorry excuses, the hardship is there for us to conquer and made us a better person. It doesn't care whether you have a rich parents/poor parents/one parents/no parents, it would move accordingly and you better stop complaining and shout out excuses because like it or not it would still move the way it had been destined. Difficulties should be a reason why you are so proud of yourself (i.e. you manage to overcome it) instead of an excuse on why you are a failure. 

Chow down!!

Sheltered in the security of  a stable government, I could see why people here are somewhat out of touch with the 'real' world. I laughed every time someone say: "I have seen more in my lifetime". Really, but have you experienced it? Knowing that you might not be able to finish school because you lack of money, knowing that you might not be able to eat or worse - give your family and especially the little one something to eat, knowing that the law is so unfair and you can't trust the police and not only you have to worried about the bad guys you also have to worry about the police, knowing that you have no health care of whatsoever and you will be screwed if you are ill for more than 2 days, knowing that your government doesn't care about you and you are left to fend off yourself, knowing that life will not reason with you and there is no dignity even in death. The fact of the matter is, people who had experienced such things would never, ever be so rash and cocky and said "I have seen more in my lifetime", because the experience is so humbling and they know and realized that there are far, far worse thing in life even though they haven't experience it. Sometimes it is almost funny to hear these so-called experienced people calling out to themselves, yet sometimes it hurts. Like when people told me they know how I feel because they had spend some time in tropical paradise. It made me feel I want to bitchslap them. I left my family, friends, and everything I know and love behind. It was my fucking life and not just some half-ass vacation. Talk to me like that when you have spend at least 20 years there and could speak in my language and understand my culture; otherwise please shut up and stop thinking you can relate to me. The annoying thing is I couldn't even be that upset with these people, because I know that they are just ignorant and misinformed.

I just want to go home and restore my faith in humanity, and more importantly, I want to found myself. I want to go back and give and accepted love unconditionally. I want to see the extravagant power of life, the beautiful display of human conquering life's challenges and came out as winner. I am sick with this lame excuses and "You have to understand!!!" thing that is forced upon me. And that's just the thing, I wanted and willing to understand, but I will not cower to someone's demand to understand him/her. It hollowed me, and I can feel I'm losing more of myself every day. I just want to go home. I really do.