A Testimonial from the Civil Society Forum

As many of you know, there’s a historical event coming about in Bali these two weeks. It’s the UN Forum on Climate Change. I would love to say that I’m a part of this event, but the fact is I’m not… Unfortunately… or perhaps fortunately?

No, I am a part of the committee for the Civil Society Forum which is a parallel event being held only a few minutes away from the UNFCC. If UNFCC is an international meeting between diplomats from almost every country all over the world, CSF is a national/international forum with participants from almost every NGO in Indonesia. The purpose of this forum is to share, inform and create a common position between environmental organizations within Indonesia and those outside of Indonesia.

As an International Relations studies student, I would have to admit that I’m jealous of everyone who can see and hear the talks in the UNFCC! I really want to hear professional diplomats talk and argue among one another. But, being a part of the CSF has been a reality shock for me. I feel like someone has thrown cold water on my face… I’ve heard testimonials and stories of activists and society from all over Indonesia and there are so many that still leaves me stunned!

For example, a lady from Gedebage, Bandung, talked about government’s plan to build an incinerator in her village. The local government held a meeting to socialize their plans to the society. But before the society could digest the new information, the local government had already used their signatures on the meeting’s attendance list as proof of society’s support towards the plans and the local government is now putting construction signs on top of the people’s land even though they haven’t even agreed in selling it.

Another story was from an old farmer from East Kalimantan, who lives in a small, simple village without electricity. A Korean coal company has bought his land to extract the rich resources that exist below his land. All of the trees in the forest surrounding him has been chopped down for this mining company and now, not only is his village destroyed he also has a hard time farming because without the trees it has become too hot to work above 10, which means he has to work longer hours into the evening.

Another sad story comes from Papua where big oil industries and timber companies are taking away indigenous land for their own profits. In Mooi for example, the indigenous leaders were brought to Medan, promised a lot of money for exchange of their land for a palm oil plantation. But until now, none of the villagers have been paid for their land or the energy that they have put out to plant the palm trees.

Reality is sad for those who are helpless and we really need to question the interests of governments when they enter their air conditioned rooms and cars… The irony of the whole situation is simply heartbreaking! And yet, even the civil society is not in sync with one another. While I was here I’ve witnessed the paradox between words and actions. People yell and scream about the danger of climate change and the helplessness of society and yet they throw garbage wherever, whenever, they smoke around others, and they don’t respect each other in a forum.

As a student, I really do not understand where all of this is coming to and where should I stand amidst all of this… Being a part of the government does not show the possibility of creating change and yet the civil society (not all of course) starts to seem redundant… After we graduate we will meet reality and it will not be as black and white as our textbooks seem to portray… and yet as part of a community we need to take sides. The question is where will you stand? And will your stance affect the direction towards where your arms reach out?

Dhika*Shines

 

early in the morning in an airport (3 December 2007)

It’s 7.31 a.m. and I am sitting in gate F6 of the Soekarno-Hatta airport. It’s still early in the morning and yet it feels like one of the longest days of my life. Isn’t it really amazing how mornings can just get out of control leaving you thinking: “it can’t get worse than this’, just to find out that it actually can…

So what am I doing in the airport so early in the morning? Well, I’m going to join the Civil Society Forum in Bali, which is a parallel event to the UN Forum on Climate Change.

How did I get this job? Now that’s an even longer story… It starts with me yawning in class, having nothing to do… I think I’ll just leave that story for another time.

Anyways, back to me sitting, typing in an airport waiting room that has a sharp nauseating smell of that toxic liquid that people use to mop their floors… what do you call them? Hmmmm….

Anyways… back to my story… How did this morning go bad?

Like every story, it should start from the beginning. It started with the fact that yesterday was an exhausting day used up for a debating tournament that I didn’t win (another story for another time). I got home at 10 p.m., packed my suitcase and walked to a friend’s house to sleep over since I was going to Bali with this friend. I slept at 11.30ish p.m. and had a dream of debating and ccasebuilding, repeating a day that has passed through my subconscious. I woke up at 2a.m. and found my friend struggling with last minute packing and found that I couldn’t sleep again so I just woke up, took a shower and got ready to leave. Our flight was at 6 a.m. so we left before 4 a.m. afraid of missing the flight. Turns out, we arrived around 4.30 a.m., too early, sleepy and hungry. After checking in we looked for something to eat but everything was closed except Dunkin Donuts.

Now, I know that Dunkin Donuts is America’s no.1 Donut (or claims to be)… but if that’s true, its either Indonesians have very different tastes than Americans or American’s have terrible taste when it comes to donuts… The worst thing about Dunkin Donuts is they have the world’s worst coffee ever! Trying to heal a foggy head I ended up with a queasy stomach. And what made this worse was that while I was busy cursing my coffee in my head I actually left my bag (laptop and all) on the examination desk and had to be called by the guards in front of everyone! Gosh that was embarrassing, what kind of person leaves their bag, with their ticket, cell phone and everything at the examination desk of an airport?! Well, in my defense I was sleepy and I had wasted money on stale coffee… I think you can guess where the coffee went after that…

And just to rub things in, I just had to bump into an open Starbucks with a strong intoxicating smell of coffee… Unfortunately by then I’ve already lost my craving for coffee.

So what am I still doing in the airport at 8 a.m. when I should have left at 6? Well, it’s the typical case of Indonesia’s airlines… hours of delay! And this is Merpati! You would think they would be more professional… And now that I have nothing to do, my laptop is low on batteries and my charger is in my suitcase, which has been checked in… Yeah… so this has not been one of the best mornings for me… some days… are just not meant to be….

Dhika*Shines

 

I’m soooo Lazy…

There are a lot of shades and levels of laziness..

What are your shades?

When I’m feeling extremely lazy I could stay in bed and miss everything till noon… That’s the worst of days… During those times, all I want to do is forget that reality awaits outside my door so I just pull my blanket up and pretend that I’m in a cave far far far away from campus, classes, events, assignments, friends, or whatever plan I had for that day…

A better form of laziness for me (but still lazy none the less) is when I actually get up, take a shower, go to campus but miss my classes… No reason really, just don’t feel like sitting down and taking notes. Although there’s only a certain limit to which I’m able to do that coz if i miss more than 4 classes than I won’t be able to join my final exams. So, sometimes I get lucky and like right now, I join a class, put my earphones on, listen to my ITunes, and check whether the internet is running… So, I’m currently in that shade of laziness… I don’t have any idea of what this lecturer is saying – don’t care really – and just laugh when everyone is laughing to indicate a certain amount of attention…

situation in my [boring] class

The problem now is, though I have the internet connection I’m not really sure what to do cause I’m not in the mood to do anything… I guess, I just want to stay in bed and pretend that I’m in a cave far far far away… Unfortunately, having the internet sort of takes away the possibility of that illusion…

So there are shades of laziness… I say, embrace them. We all need a break from reality once in awhile… And we should be more than ready to take that break twice in awhile…

Dhika*Shines

 

Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami

“Kafka sits in a chair by the shore,
Thinking of the pendulum that moves the world, it seems…”

This is a line from a song that ties the characters within this novel into one circle of fate. Once again Murakami has welcomed his viewers into this wonderful world of his where the difference between right and wrong, realities and dreams, are irrelevant and mixed up into this odyssey of destiny.

The hero of this novel, as every other of Murakami’s heroes, is an introvert, persistent, old soul caught up in the body of a 15-year-old running away from home to escape his past. His alter ego, a boy named Crow, assists him on his journey that turns out to be a small part of the prophecy that awaits him.

In another part of town – another world – lives Satoru Nakata, an old man in his mid-50s whose past is as twisted as his future will unfold to be. Murakami doesn’t directly introduce us to Nakata but gives us testimonials of people in his past that were involved in the ‘accident’ that wiped out his memories, took away a part of his shadow and gave him the ability to talk to cats.

And this is where we finally meet Nakata… On his pursuit of a lost cat Nakata finds his world fall apart as he bumps into a big, black, talking dog, an eccentric freak that claims to be Johnny Walker and sardines falling from the sky. His simple, humble life was turned upside down while he starts his mission to close the ‘entrance stone’.

In this magnificent novel, Murakami brings us Greek mythology and Japanese legends that are intertwined into Japan’s modern society. It’s a story of self-discovery, of lust and love, and of forgiving the burdens of our past to grow up and reach towards the future. It breaks down the wall of taboo and questions our intake of life.

In many ways, ‘Kafka on the Shore’ reminds me of ‘Hardboiled Wonderland and the End of the World’ but ‘Kafka on the Shore’ has a stronger plot that leaves us wanting to know more. After such a hype of a climax, the ending leaves you breathing deeply knowing that the characters that you have learned to love grew and matures through the whole journey.

I would recommend this book for anyone who seeks deep conversations of life in the form of great story!

Dhika*Shines

 

When it Rains…

I love the rain…. I love everything about it! The cool breezes, the smell of wet soil, the cozy feeling that you get when you’re at home, the funny sensation in your stomach when there’s the sound of thunder, the goosebumps and the cool sensation that goes up your spine when you see a great flash of lightning… Yes, I think you can conclude that I love the rain.

But there is one thing that I hate about the rain… and it’s this sentimental, nostalgic feeling that I get whenever the rain starts falling… And it’s not only the rain that gives me this sensation; it’s everything about the rain… Colorful umbrellas that come out whenever the rain starts pouring down, people running around like ants looking for cover, puddles of water that makes your jeans and sneakers wet, children that run around laughing and playing under the rain… There’s this feeling in the air that reminds me of the past.

Memories come down amidst the raindrops.

So, what does the rain remind you of?

It reminds me of elementary school when I would just walk home from school getting soaked under the rain even though I’ve got my umbrella in my backpack. It also reminds me of the medicine that I had to drink after those episodes under the rain.

It reminds me of the first rainbow that I remember seeing when I was in 1st grade of elementary school. I remember this because my teacher (whose name I can no longer recall) showed it to the class and said that there was a pot of gold and a leprechaun waiting on the other side of that rainbow… And being the gullible 1st grader that I was (and some might argue still am), I totally believed him.

I was reminded of this story when I was in Australia… I was taking a walk after a morning of light rain and saw a perfectly beautiful rainbow of all colors boosting with pride in the horizon. When I saw this rainbow, all I could think of was how much I wanted to believe again…

Now, the memories that come back are not necessarily bad memories. In fact, most of them are the sweetest moments in my childhood… But the reason why I hate these nostalgic and sentimental feelings is because they just remind me that I’ll never be able to go back…

Growing up was the worst thing that ever happened to me…

I wish I were Peter Pan that could stay a kid and enjoy the freedom of youth! Or perhaps a princess, enchanted into a deep sleep without ever having to wake up! I never could understand why all of those Prince Charmings took the liberty of kissing Snow White and Sleeping Beauty! What makes them so sure that waking up was better than the beautiful dreams that they were having in their sleep! If I were Snow White I might as well go to the Queen and ask her for another bight of that apple…

Sigh… sorry for my bitterness… It’s the rain… It got me…

Dhika Shines

 

The face of Indonesia

So, yesterday night I went to Metro TV, a national TV station, to watch a new show called East-West Connection. It was basically a teleconference between a studio audience & panel in Jakarta with a studio audience & panel in the USA.

I was promised the opportunity to ask questions to US audience from across the globe but ended up disappointed as the opportunity to ask questions was only given to the panel (Amien Rais and another gentleman whose name I’ve forgotten) and certain members of the audience who represented groups like the Freedom Institute and other think tanks…

Despite the disappointment that I had to endure, it was quite an interesting discussion about America’s effort in waving the democratic flag around the world amidst its war on terrorism and how Indonesia plays an important role in these efforts (read: a doll needed to portray an image of the so-called Moderate-Muslim Nation within this clash of values).

Excuse my skepticism, but this use of term: Moderate-Muslim Nation, never fails to disgust me… I mean I have nothing against the concept of a moderate Muslim. As a matter of fact I tend to identify myself as one… What I find terribly appalling is that this image is a terrible misrepresentation of Indonesia. The fact is we have five main religions, each parted up into different sects and beliefs making this concept of a ‘Moderate-Muslim majority’ an over-generalization of what Indonesia is. Saying that the 90% of Muslims in Indonesia are generally Moderate-Muslims is quite an overstatement because what does it really mean to be a Moderate-Muslim?

What many people do not know is that every Indonesian MUST choose among the five religions (Islam, Christianity, Catholic, Hinduism, and Buddhism) and this is written on their ID Card. This means, even if you’re an atheist or agnostic you still have to declare one of the religions above…

So again, what does it mean to be a Moderate Muslim? Someone who’s registered as a Muslim but doesn’t practice the religion? Someone who practices Islam in certain parts of his/her life but not in others? Someone who practices Islam but refuses to resort into fundamentalism?

What does this mean? This promotion of Indonesia as a Moderate-Muslim Nation often reeks with politics and the desperate need of aid… And as a result it neglects the multi-religious face that Indonesia really represents. America needs a Moderate-Muslim friend… Indonesia has step up to the occasion… But who is this Indonesia that we’re all talking about? It definitely is not the Indonesia that I know.

Dhika*Shines

 

A matter of names

I have realized again the joy I get from writing my thoughts. It’s funny because I haven’t been writing that much lately in my diary (something that I did non-stop when I was in high school). I guess there is a completely different thrill if you are writing something for everyone to see… even though of course, I’m not sure that many people will actually go and read my blog.

This leads me to a curious wonder that I currently have about my blog. I haven’t really announced the existence of my blog, and even if I do tell my friends I don’t go about telling them the address (I’m rather shy about what I write although I am none the less a little proud about it)… and yet yesterday, I saw the statistics tell me that not less than 34 people have clicked to read my blog in the three days that it has existed. Isn’t that funny? So, I’ve come to the conclusion that the blog company (whoever is behind wordpress) just puts up large numbers each day on our statistics to flatter us (the users) and encourage us to write even more… It’s like a form of promotion. If we keep on writing and logging into wordpress the easier it is to get advertisements on the website… I’m convince there’s a conspiracy behind these number…

Just to prove a point, if you are reading this blog, why don’t you post a comment? That way, if the number of comments is less than the number in the statistics box, I’ve just proven my point…

Anyways, this isn’t what I meant to write… I meant to write about names… You know what Shakespeare said about the rose and the name… It goes something like this (forgive me if I’m quoting him incorrectly): What is a rose by another name?

Well, I’ll tell you, it means a lot. And how do I know this? I know this because I name my most beloved possessions, and if they had other names I would feel at lost. This happened recently when I had to change the name of my iBook. My iBook used to be called Mackey… I say ‘used to be’ because a friend of mine, Keisha, told me that Mackey is actually a nasty word in Indonesian… When I found out what it meant I decided to change it and thus, my iBook has been reborn as Abby… And the thing is, it has made a hell lot of a difference to me!! I have gotten so used to calling her Mackey that I feel awkward whenever I want to talk to her. And talking to Mackey – I mean Abby – has become such an important ritual whenever I’m working, that this awkwardness has finally affected my concentration!

Well, I have now gotten quite used to the name Abby, but I have learned to be more careful in naming my things. I’m glad I haven’t yet found need to change the names of my other possessions… My cell phone is still Noka, my camera is still Nicky, my huge chimpanzee doll is named Charlie, and my old bunny doll that I’ve owned since I was 7 is still Rabitty-Ann.

Why am I sharing this with all of you? Because, I just wanted to make sure that my possessions no longer have any weird meanings behind them. If they do please tell me… and another reason I’m posting this here is so you won’t find it strange when you see me talking to Abby, Noka, Nicky, Charlie, or Rabitty-Ann. I find it very normal to talk to them. After all, Abby, for example, contains more of my thoughts than most people that I know of and those people have names… Why shouldn’t she?

Dhika*Shines

 

What to do when you’re broke…

Today, it’s the 29th of October… And you know what happens at the end of every month… it’s time for us to reach deeply – as deeply as possible – into our pockets and count the small change that we have left. Right now, if you open my wallet, the only money I have left is Rp. 10.000,00-.

If you’re not Indonesian, you might think that this is a LOT of money… Which reminds me, when I was in Singapore for ASEAN University Network (AUN) a friend from Thailand was astonished to know that I was carrying a few Rp. 10.000s in my wallet. He was even more astonished when I gave him one of my Rp. 10.000 bills… Well, he probably wouldn’t have told everyone how extremely nice I was if he knew that Rp.10.000 was only a bit over a dollar…

My last source of hope…

Anyways, back to the topic… what do you do when you’re broke?? I know this might seem like a VERY VERY boring topic, but I’m quite obsessed about it right now since I’m totally broke and I find it amusing to wonder whether I can survive three more days without having to break into my savings or call up my mom for more money…

So these are the steps that I have been taking so far:
1. Prioritize! Buy the things MOST important…. So, I have started to skip meals… very important, because there are things that I can’t live without… like my occasional chocolate bars, my before-midnight-potato-chips, and other sugar-loaded snacks that keep my energy up… Other things, like meals, on the other hand, is not a priority.
2. Go to events in order to get free food even though that means you might be enslaved by the committee. Yesterday, for example, I had to coach three teams and adjudicate three debates in return for a free lunch and dinner and snacks.
3. I have managed to know the woman who owns the small ‘warteg’ next to my boarding house. As a result… I have managed to get occasional free meals whenever she feels sorry for me…
4. Keep an eye open for whatever money you find lying on the street waiting to be used by anyone who finds it… I haven’t been very lucky on this one, but I’m waiting for a turn of fate… I know my day will come…
5. Be as helpful as possible to everyone so if in the end you can’t survive before the next month, you know there are people that owe you a favor or two that might be willing to lend you money or even better, buy you a meal…. Well, let’s just say I’m keeping an eye on a list of names…

Now, so far, these are all the things that I can think of… But if anyone can think of new ways to make sure that I’ll still live until THE day when fresh cash flows into my bank account… Please… Please… PLEASE… let me know….

Hope to be alive in November

Dhika*Shines

 

From alcohol to scarves to religious tolerance

A couple of months ago, in Australia, I was talking to my friend about alcohol… she was telling me bout the kinds of alcoholic drinks that she loved and those she hated. Being the good listener that I am (yeah right…), I nodded now and then showing her that this was in fact quite an interesting matter to me… and than she realized that… oh right… i don’t drink.

Realizing this she looked at me in horror and said… “Oh my God! How can you possibly live?”

I was reminded of this story today while chatting with a friend of mine and he asked me an interesting question: “How did people react about my scarf when I went abroad?”
Yesterday another friend asked me another interesting question: “When and why did you decide to wear a scarf?”
A couple of days before, another friend (being the blatant person that she is), commented bout my behavior and asked me: “Why don’t you just take your scarf off?”

It’s funny isn’t it… people have all these pre-dispositions about what a girl wearing a scarf should be like, how her life must be like, and how people treat her. It seems to say that there must be a certain image that you have to fulfill once you wear a scarf.

I can understand the basis of these pre-depositions, because after all, (risking an over-generalization here) girls wear scarves due to religious reasons so logically most girls with scarves ‘SHOULD’ be relligious.

But, now let me ask you this question: What does it mean to be religious? We all have made steps to support the things we believe in, be it a religion, a political party, a movement…
But, how can we measure the depths of our belief?

How can we judge that one’s relationship with God is better than another?

These questions are quite interesting to think of, because it brings us to the issue of religious tolerance.

I’m the kind of person that believes in the saying: “I might disagree with you, but I agree with your right to disagree.” And thus, I believe that I’m quite a tolerant person.

Last week I joined this human rights workshop so I can facilitate human rights training for high school kids. We talked about case studies and ways to discuss certain issues with the kids we’re going to facilitate. One of the issues that we talked about was religious tolerance and there was this case study for discussion: The issue was about a kid who changed religions and had a friend who was trying to convince him to go back to the ‘right path’. And the issue in mind was: was the friend being tolerant? or was the friend making judgments because he was trying to push an idea of the ‘right’ path when in fact right and wrong is a very subjective matter.

The funny thing was, two days after that workshop, I was informed that a friend of mine has just changed religion from Islam to Christianity. This took me by surprise because as far as I know (I wasn’t really close to this friend of mine) he was quite a dedicated muslim. My first thought was, well, people experience different things every day and they always change even when you least expect it.

But after awhile, I started thinking to myself… Am I being tolerant or am I being apathetic? Because, really what’s the difference? Our common understanding of tolerance would be to allow others to pursue their own lives through their own decisions. In other words, just allow others to live their own lives the way they want it to be. But, in doing so are we not fulfilling a role as a group or a community?

Another question that occurred was how do I look at Islam? I truly believe that Islam is the perfect religion for me. I have no doubt that Islam is ‘right’ FOR ME. So, in doing so… doesn’t this mean I don’t think about my religion as a universal truth? Because, if I think about it… I don’t think anything can be called a ‘universal truth’…

So, coming back to the earlier question: How do we measure the depths of one’s beliefs?

Well, I guess in the end, none of us are entitled do judge this because more often than not, belief is a matter of faith and faith is a matter of heart.

So, I guess tolerance is just a matter of believing that others believe in what they want to believe and we will never know the depths or the true form of his/her beliefs.

It’s apathy with a passion.

 

Just want to Share a Smile!

Have you ever woke up thinking that nothing wrong could possibly happen to you that day? This morning I woke up soooo FRESH! The sun was up and shining, imaginary birds were singing cheerfully, and nothing… NOTHING… could possibly get in my way!

The cause of today’s optimism is the fact that today is the LAST DAY OF MY EXAMS! I just couldn’t care less about all the troubles in the world because starting tomorrow I can stop reading boring text books that needs more color and pictures… i can stop typing on my mac as if my life depended on it… I can stop staying up late trying to memorize historical dates and international relations theories… Today was just a positive ray of sunshine beaming over me!

And now, five minutes after my last exam, I just can’t stop smiling (even though the exam didn’t go as well as I hoped it would…)!

So, How was your day today? I think some days, we wake up just knowing that the world is there to embrace our existence! I hope today was one of those days for you too! But if not, I’m happy to share my smile with you…

Dhika*Shines