my getaway..

My Haiku..

2008-11-06T18:24:00.000-08:00

Windows smashed
Broken glass on floor
Act of ghost?

Wind blows strongly
Flew up my red skirt
A street show

Invisible hand
Feeding me with food
May your life be blessed

A familiar face
Stares at me with puffy eyes
My own reflection

I am me....

2008-07-22T23:37:00.000-07:00

a person who tries to grab every opportunity, though have found it difficult to comply with all the 'norms' and 'rule' and 'stigma' that gets in the way...

a person who tries to hold everything with her two hands, though realising that her two feet are in opposite direction...

a person who tries to take into account the confusion, the joy, the misery, the mistery of life, though totally aware that she can't have everything...

i am me...simply me...

Learning is fun ...Potato Year 2008 at Moreland Primary School

2008-06-04T03:39:00.001-07:00

The children are celebrating International Potato Year 2008 during the education week at MPS. They learn anything about potato; from how, when and where it grow to nutrient to how to cook potato in many different dish. On the d-day, they show their potato decoration and potato competition on fattest, heaviest and weirdest..Learning is fun!!!

Hunting this potato what makes the journey so special..due to our hectic schedule, me and my kids went out after dark to a nearby supermarket, only to look for an unusual potato. But the time spent, the laugh when we saw a weird potato, the debate over what potato to choose, was just fascinating. Yup, there are things that baby sitter or nanny or maid can't replace..the family bond!

"We have each other", said my children

2008-05-06T17:55:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday, 4 May 2008, I had an accident when my wallet was stolen by a thief in Melbourne Central. I was shattered as I had everything in there. Just like everyone, I put every important cards in my wallet, money (in which I lost quite a fortune....) and pictures...Pictures that connected me with my past. Picture of my newborn son, Anugrah, when he was an hour old, picture of my five months daughter, Savira, in her daddy's lap, my wedding picture, my childhood picture when I was about 3 or 4 years old..and many more!! The lost was overwhelming!!

First thing came to my mind was calling my husband in Indonesia. As usual, his response was so tender and calm. "Even life can be taken away", said he. It seems that he knew I wouldn't be able to rest afterwards, he kept sending me texts and emails, comforting me not to think about the accident. Jokingly, he said that my wallet was meant to retire from my hands. All I need now is a new wallet and filling it with hard work again..But we still have to learn from the lesson. No matter where we are, what we do, and when we do it, we always have to be careful. One more thing, never ever use a backpack again. I always thought that living in a developed country such Australia, will be a safe place to use backpack. It turns out that my hypothesis proved to be wrong!!!

What did my children react to this?? Amazing.... Nugra couldn't stop crying and asking if I were allright. He even made me toast for lunch to put my smiles back on my face. Surprisingly, Vira hugged me from behind and whispering that 'We still have each other, mum'.....

Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

2008-05-06T17:48:00.000-07:00

The story below is not mine, but so inspiring that I thought I would love to keep it here. Every time I face a rough time and a bumpy road, this story will enlighten me and remind me of all the good side in every dark times.

May we all aspire to be a coffee bean:)

Carrots, Eggs, & Coffee!

A carrot, an egg, and a cup of coffee...You will never look at a cup of coffee the same way again. A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up, She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved, a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil; without saying a word. In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, ' Tell me what you see.'

'Carrots, eggs, and coffee,' she replied.

Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard boiled egg.

Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, 'What does it mean, mother?'

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened. The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.

'Which are you?' she asked her daughter. 'When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

Think of this: Which am I?

Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength? Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat?

Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart?

Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest do you elevate yourself to another level? How do you handle adversity?

Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trials to make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human and enough hope to make you happy.

The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way. The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past; you can't go forward in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.

When you were born, you were crying and everyone around you was smiling. Live your life so at the end, you're the one who is smiling and everyone around you is crying.

May we all be COFFEE!!!!!!!

What is love?

2008-02-21T22:51:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I received an email from one of the mailing list that I join. It's about the meaning of love. The answers given by 4-8 years old children were touching, beautiful and open the adults' mind to enter children's world. Most of the answer are related to how their mom and dad are behaving toward each other. Indeed, child can be a great observer.

But then, it makes me think of my family as well. How would my children learn about love when their parents are living in two separate home? How would they learn about love when they, too, living separately? Hm...

But, I don't have to be too concern, do I? Nugrah called me and his dad as 'LOVE BIRDS'. This notion is enough to make me think that my own kids have their own interpretation of what love is!

Happy reading!

Touching words from the mouth of babes.

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, 'What does love mean?'

The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined.

See what you think:

'When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.'
Rebecca- age 8

'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.'
Billy - age 4

'Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.'
Karl - age 5

'Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.'
Chrissy - age 6

'Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.'
Terri - age 4

'Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.'
Danny - age 7

'Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mommy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss'
Emily - age 8

'Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.'
Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)

'If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,'
Nikka - age 6 (we need a few million more Nikka's on this planet)

'Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.'
Noelle - age 7

'Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.'
Tommy - age 6

'During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore.'
Cindy - age 8

'My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.'
Clare - age 6

'Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.'
Elaine-age 5

'Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.'
Chris - age 7

'Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.'
Mary Ann - age 4

'I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.'
Lauren - age 4

'When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.' (what an image)
Karen - age 7

'Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross.'
Mark - age 6

'You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.'
Jessica - age 8

And the final one.

The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, 'Nothing, I just helped him cry'.

Nugrah's funniest moments

2008-01-24T04:12:00.000-08:00

This post is meant to record the funniest moment that Nugra has created.

He was only about 4 years old when we went around Surabaya and ended up in furniture exhibition. A sofa with 'Do not seat' sign was arranged beautifully in one of the corner. Unaware with the sign, Nugra sat comfortably until I told him about the sign. Instead of standing up, Nugra chose to sleep on it! Hm...sit is different with sleep, right??

One afternoon, me, Kak Chali and Nugra were walking home after praying in the nearby mosque. Worried about Nugrah's safety, my husband asked me the english translation for "jalan di pinggir". Nugrah heard his father and replied, in english "Don't walk in the middle, bapak"...yup, we can look at everything from any perpectives, right??

Nugra loves history books. Ancient egypt, roman empire, famous people, invention, primitive life etc. One day he asked me "mum, who lived earlier? cave men or nabi Ibrahim?" I asked why? and he said, he read in a book that cave men found fire, and that, another book said one of Nabi Ibrahim's miracle was to walk through fire. He concluded that cave men must had been lived earlier. But then, he was confused again with Nabi Adam, as the first human created by Allah. So, did Nabi Adam a cave man? Nugra was about 5 or 6 at that time. His curiosity made me research again on the history of human...never underestimate what a child is capable of, right??

One day my mother went to the mall with Nugra. Nugra wanted to buy game, and my mother asked if he had money or not. Nugra answered "no, but I have my grandma with me"..hahaha..

Another day in Singapore, my mother nursed my children while I attended a conference with Kak Chali. They strolled around the city when, my mother said, they saw a young man helping his grandma walking. My mother said to Nugra that he also had to help her when he become a young man. Nugra replied 'but you won't live that long, mami??' ...oh...nugra..nugra..

Nugra is supposed to wear glasses but keep refusing to do it. He will come up with so many reasons to avoid wearing ones. One day, we went for an eye test. The opthometrist asked nugra if he can read the letters. Nugra said "of course I can if I don't stand too far from the board"..hahaha..

It was a family day. We chose to go to Gramedia, Makassar. Once we got there, everyone was busy with their books. Nugrah and I were two aisle apart from each other. He was in best selling section while I was in housing. I was so occupied with my own interest when I heard Nugrah, asked me a question, with a very loud voice: 'Mom, what is kelamin?'.... Everyone looked up and smiled...phew!!

My children, how fast you both have grown...

2008-01-23T05:53:00.000-08:00

What a proud mom I am!
It seems like yesterday when I hold little tiny Savira in my arms. I still remember vividly when I wiggled her toes, watched her first step during her first birthday, smiling at her swaying body when she tried to walk steadily, dressed her up and made her hair do with a cute bandana and ribbon. I remember my terrible fear when she was almost drown during bathing, fell from her carriage.
Yesterday and today, Savira has been cooking a delicious pudding caramel. The day before she had succeeded in making the chocolate muffin. For my birthday, Savira presented me with her most beautiful butterfly painting. She is an art lover.

She is also starting to show her interest toward her opposite gender. Something that needs a special touch of art to handle...like flying a kite, need to know the right moment to loose and to thighten the thread.

Today, I measure her height and she's nearly as tall as I am.

My kind son, Anugrah. The day when I hold him for the first time, 9 November 1997, 7am. When his cries were like music to my ear. When his first walk took me by surprise. When he said his first word 'mama'. When he kept on moving his head side to side, everytime he heard some music. When he sang his first song:

naik eleta api tu..tu..tu..
ciapa enda uyu...
i andung...i aya...
i...ima...i...uya....

The time when he was 'puppyyy'...and sang:

inci inci ider...
limb up the wall of ..out...
And I asked if he had finished his ritual, he answered: 'no' ye'......

The day when he kept on dancing, twisting his body constantly in front of a shop in Sydney while listening to a song 'Walking like an Egyptian'.

I remember my tortured heart when I had to stop breastfeeding him because I had to leave for Australia. I remember my guilty feeling when my husband told me that he searched for me under the bed, even under the pillow.

Nowadays, all he wants to do is to pleased me. He teaches me how to stay floating in the pool, he is very concerned whenever I'm sick, and he keeps on making me some food, even just a toast with nutella, to make sure that I eat properly everytime he sees me working. He always hugs me before sleeping and reading stories together. For my birthday, he treated me like a queen, doing all the works for me.

Today, he makes me smile. He sent me email 'urgent mom must buy nutella now'..how cute...

Today, I measure his height and he is almost as tall as I am...

My children have grown. They no longer need my lullaby songs, but it doesn't mean it is forgotten. I believe that the rhytm of the song echoes in their ears for the rest of their life, and it will pass on to their children and to their next generation.

Do..re....mi...
do.. a deer a female deer,
re..a drop of golden sun,
me..a name I called myself,
far..a long-long way to run,
sew..a needle pulling thread,
la..a note to follow sol,
tea..a drink with jam and bread...
that will bring us back to do....

Rock a bye baby..
rock a bye baby on the tree tops
when the wind blows the craddle will rock
when the bough breaks the cradlle will fall
and down will come baby, craddle and all..

Nugra sleeping..(from the song 'Nina Bobo')
nugra sleeping..oh ...nugra sleeping
if you're not sleeping mosquito will bite you..

If today is the world stealing day, what would you steal from me?

2008-01-10T01:37:00.000-08:00

I got a text from my dear sister today. It said "If today is the world stealing day, what would you steal from me?" My answer is :"your brain and your beauty at the most, and your teeth at the least"..hahaha...and what does her husband's most wanted possession of hers? Her teeth!!!! So he can rip it off and throw the teeth as far as they could possibly be....hahaha...she just hates toothbrush!! She even confessed that during her younger age, she brushed the bathroom wall to make a squeeky sound, tricking my late father who frequently eavesdropped in the bathroom door to make sure that we did brush our teeth!! In one of her birthday, her husband lovingly gave her an expensive, electronic german made toothbrush! Hahaha.....

Then, I forwarded the text to one of my friend, and the answer is "surely I would steal your spirit of caring people"...hahaha..sounds like Salvos. Another friend answers "I would not steal anything from you because I'm much much better than you...sorry..." hm......... and other answers "well, can I wait until you get your PhD? Then, I'll steal it..." yeah, you wish!!! The rest of the answers are related to personal tribute (sweetness, smile, cheering, etc) and material (wealth, fashion, etc).

However, the answer from my dearest husband is the most unexpected and the most beautiful one. It takes my breath away....He answers it shortly "Your hurt". I burst into tears.

(It is 1 am now. Alone. My children have gone to sleep. My husband's wishes echos in my ear. One of the best birthday present ever. Two words only. The power of words, lifting my seemingly everlasting burden. I feel like floating, flying. So light. This is my response:

"unexpected answer, thank you. Will always remember it. But you don't have to steal my pain, cause if you are hurt, it's my hurt too. Better throw that away and free ourselves from the pain and let us live. Bravo our little clique of family. I love you even more"

Because I do love him dearly.....

Half way there.....

2008-01-10T00:52:00.000-08:00

my precious one,

we are nearly there...

we have traveled half of this long road

we have walked into the path of joy

we have conquered the hardships

and yet, there are more to come...

we hug to seek comfort

we smile to fight loneliness

we are, nevertheless, to let another half way to pass

my precious one,

we are nearly there...

Hope

2008-01-10T00:34:00.000-08:00

hope will always find its way..
embracing every soul..
sometimes in the most peculiar ways..
where all doors seem to be closed..

even at its coldest, the sun still shines..
igniting the earth thru the thickness of the branch..
peeking brightly to warm the freezing land..
to warm the soul..

(let your mind breeze the coldness of snow in this hot summer day of 41'c)

Start believeing..

2008-01-09T22:59:00.000-08:00

Sometimes ago, my supervisor commented my work during our meeting...

"I'm not satisfied with your progress..what have you been doing?"..

I'm dumbfounded. Strike 1!!

I can't help to feel hopeless. Yes, I then asked myself the same question. Yes, I haven't done much. Then, who is there to blame?

Aha...my mind quickly points out my status as a single mum in Australia. It is a tough job to care two 'nearly grown up children', right? Do this and that around the house, think this and that to ensure their needs are provided. Wait, that's not all, I also think about my husband who left behind. Long distance relationship adds to the problem, right?? Yes, I find the answer to my own lacking!! But, hang on, aren't they the source of my happiness? aren't they the reason for my decision to go through this journey? Wouldn't it be worse if they are not here besides me?? so, why blame them? They've got nothing to do with my weaknesses!!

Strike 2!!

Think..think..what is in there to blame?? Perhaps, I shall blame my supervisor. She shouldn't say such things to me!! Didn't she understand that I come from different background? that criticism has no place in my culture? Yeah...true..but..

But, what about if the questions were directed to me? that I, too, have to understand their culture? to be bold? to be straightforward as a means of supporting and motivation? Gee, speechless!

Strike 3!! Knock Out!!

Then, I remember that a good friend of mine described me in my friendster.

11/4/2007 4:16 pm

"A mom with good motivation. She can manage family and her study matters well. First time I met her, my English teacher asked me to discuss an issue with her, and I was totally down. She looked very smart. But she told me: "do not feel like that. If you feel down when you face someone, try to ask things". I remember and practice the tip in everyday lives. Thanks for that". (by Melvin)

I feel embarrassed with his comment. It is not merely because I have forgotten what I have said, but most of all, I do not practice what I told him to. For this reason, I have to thank him deeply for his comment. Since then, I reflect my problem and start to look inside, instead of outside. I only have myself to blame!

I realise that I had put myself under the shadow. I'm surrounded by people who, in my eyes, are far more advanced than me. I felt so small. Yes, at times, I lost trust with myself. I didn't consider my body, my brain as my friend. I felt like they had betrayed me. No, I did not believe in myself. A deathly poison that kills everything goods your body has to offer!! As it turned out, I became a lazy person. Denial. Showing my snob that I could do everything without help. What a prick!! I hid my true color behind my hypocrisy.

Thank God I was not carried away, thanks to Melvin, especially also to Sudirman, Nana and Amel. I started to type word by word. Yes, I started to write with ease. No burden for perfection. Until finally I submitted my paper, and I had this comment:

'I'm glad. I'm happy. You are on the right track. You really bring me to the field'.

A home run!!! 1 point in!!

I jump with joy. But not too long, though, cause a day after that, I received an email from Lenore, my supervisor: "keep the momentum, keep producing" along with three journals to read!!! Hahahaa....no resting!!

I become aware that my friends are my mentor, friends in discussion who will enrich my insight knowledge. They are here to share, not to judge, just as I will do for them. I gradually build my trust to myself.

Never will I believe that my breakdown is over, nor I will think that I become a perfect person, cause perfection stops us from developing.

This is what I want to pass on to savira and nugrah:

"Start believing, start with your own body. Make peace with your mind, and let it be your best friend as your mind will never mislead you. Learn from others, but never take advantage of them".

Melbourne, summer 2008, in a hot day of 41'c.

Singing Practice

2007-11-03T08:02:00.000-07:00

Savira is very fond of singing. She constantly sings and dances everyday. She even followed audition for Australian Youth Choir and successfully accepted. According to the letter, her singing ability is too advanced for Probationary Class, so she will be joining Training Class, instead. This class requires her to rehearse on a weekly basis, and performs regularly. Talking about driving her around to many places..hm..As for Anugrah, let you be the judged. I think he has shown his personality in this video: a joker, a teaser, a good little brother, and an entertainer :-)) What matters is that the children enjoy themselves and express it in a variety of ways.

Nana's story

2007-11-02T06:07:00.000-07:00

Next article is about a young girl, Nana (name has been changed to ensure confidentiality) who had gone through a remarkable journey in her life. Nana is one of my interviewee in my study. Let me know your opinion, or you might come up with some themes that can assist in my thesis writing...don't worry, you'll be acknowledged...;p and your views will be very much appreciated..;p

Nana is a 15 years old woman. She migrated from Jeneponto to Makassar, when she was 10 years old. She is the oldest of her seven siblings. Her family is very poor, and her parents do not have a steady job or own a land to support the family. Her father is an occasional farmer, working on someone’s land. However, he is quite often reluctant to work in the field due to his pride as he bears a name of Andi , a common noble title for Buginese. He always wants to work in the office, a job that goes well with his title. Her father is a stubborn man and cannot be dissuaded.

Her mother is a very dutiful housewife who does all the domestic chores. As long as Nana can remember, her mother always did whatever her father told her to. As the oldest in the family, Nana helped her mother most of the time especially in taking care of her young siblings. Her mother plants vegetables in their small backyard, raises some chicken and sells the eggs during a weekly market day. Nana also helped in the market. Sometimes she collected the eggs and sold it in the market alone. This was where most of their income was provided.

Nana had always wanted to continue her education. However, her father asked her to stop studying and look for job to support the family. He even considered marrying her to a local man who also carried Andi in his name, although he was nearly three times her age. Unable to speak against this and scared of her father, she decided to run away from home. One day, she ran away. She cannot recall the exact day, but she still remembers that it was a market day, when the village was full of people. She ran after selling her eggs and had some money in her pocket. She went to Makassar alone by bus. She had been to Makassar before with her mother and thought that this experience would be useful for her. She had no relatives in Makassar, but her strong will to leave kept her going. ‘I didn’t really care about anything at that time. I lost my fear and nekat (ignoring risk)’. Nana was shivered when speaking about this event. She actually admitted that she was terrified and confused, especially when the bus started to run. She said she wanted to cry, but she did not want anyone to be suspicious. Looking back to her past experience, she did not believe that she could do such things at such a young age. She was also amazed by her bravery.

Arriving at the bus terminal, Nana went to a small food kiosk in the terminal and met the owner whom she called Ibu (a name for an older woman). She started to cry and Ibu offered her to sleep in her house. Nana mentioned many times of how kind this Ibu was to her. She said she was lucky to meet her, as she did not report her to police and send her back. Their relationship continues to this day. Nana said that Ibu was like a mother to her, and Ibu’s children were also nice to her. Ibu is a widow who lives with her two teenage daughters.

Nana was finally able to find a job as a domestic servant through Ibu. She worked for a couple who had four children. She did all the work; cleaning, washing, and caring for the children. The family treated her nicely, buying clothes for her, and other daily needs. Nana was able to save her money, but she felt exhausted. She had to work almost all day long without a break. She woke up at five and the duties kept rolling until late at night. She worked for almost two years as a domestic servant and decided to quit when her friend, also a domestic servant, asked her to work in a restaurant with her.

Work in the restaurant was painful. Nana referred this as ‘kejam (tormented), tidak manusiawi (inhumane), penuh penderitaan (suffering)’. Nana’s duties were to clean the restaurant, including washing the dirty dishes and bringing food to guests. Her employer would not tolerate any mistakes. Breaking dishes meant cutting half of the day salary. Some guests were nice and tipped her adequately, but others were rude. Nana did not stay long in this place:

"Maybe only about six or seven months, but it seems forever. I could not stand the harsh words from my boss. He reminded me of my father. I also hated the guests who are lale (womanizer, flirting). They always pinched my bottom or winked at me when I served the food. They scared me".

Nana’s life continued. She moved from one job to another, from one house to another house. She started working in the factory when she was just turning 14.

"One day, my friend came to me and asked if I want to work in the factory. She said the company would pay us well. Besides, if we got sick, the company would pay for all the treatment, which I had never experienced from my previous jobs. When I’m sick, I have to pay for the doctor and the medicine. That’s why I don’t go to the doctor very often. It is too costly. I’m still young. I’m still strong to do any kind of jobs".

Nana began to undertake factory work hoping to gain experience and enrich her life. She did not know what type of jobs she would be doing or in what kind of environment she would do the job. All she knew was that she would be working in a shrimp company. There was no health assessment or interview; . no questions were asked about her. She was recruited as a piece rate worker to peel the shrimps and sort them according to size. She received one weeks training to do this. She was paid according to the amount of shrimp she peeled. She was very happy at first, having a larger salary than in her past jobs. She earned at least Rp10,000/day, while her last job as a cleaner in a shop only paid her Rp8000/day (note: as a comparison, the regional minimum wage for South Sulawesi is Rp24,000/day). Then, after working for several months, her life started to crumble. She realized that she has to pay a rent since the company does not provide any accommodation for the workers, pay for her daily needs, food for breakfast and dinner, and she was disappointed when she found out she was not eligible for work cover because she was employed just as a piece rate worker. Only permanent workers could be covered with insurance.

Nana works in a cold storage room. The company does not provide a jacket, only gloves for the workers. She brings her own jacket, a very thin one, which does not protect her from the cold temperature. She works from 8 am to 5 pm from Monday to Saturday. Sometimes she works night shift which starts at 7 pm and continues until midnight. The company operates 24 hours a day, especially during the harvest month.

Nana’s health problems started to emerge. She started to have a bad cold constantly, she had headaches, feeling numb in her both hands, she had sore legs from long hours of standing. Such pain became part of her life. Taking leave due to ill-health was not an option for her. Workers can only take two days off if they are sick and provide the company with doctor’s certificate. Violating this rule will result in reducing the salary, or even worse, replacing them with other new workers. This rule created a dilemma for Nana, as she cannot visit a doctor due to high cost. Nana relies on traditional medicine for her illnesses or buys cheap medicine provided by a small drug store without doctor’s prescription. She always carries 'minyak angin' (traditional oil for a quick relief of headache and fever).

Nana lives in a small room occupied by two other workers. They share the rent of Rp45,000/room/month. There is no bed, only thin mattresses. They sleep in this room surrounded by a stove, plates, pans and other Kitchen ware. When she faces a financial shortcoming, she has not option but to eat instant noodles or share food with her roommates. Sometimes she borrows money from a kiosk near her room and repays the loan after she earns money. She also belongs to an arisan (rotary saving club) and found this helpful to help her in saving her money.

As for her family, Nana did go home a year after running away. But her father was very angry when he found out that she worked as a domestic servant. He said that Nana was a disgrace to the family. She tried to stay longer in her home village because she missed her mother and her siblings so much. She felt sorry for her younger sister who did all the jobs that Nana used to do. Her brother, in Nana’s eyes, is useless. He is well-protected by her father, who does not allow him to help around the house as her father wants him to grow into a real man. According to her father, doing housework will turn him into a woman or a 'banci' (a man acting like a woman). Nana felt useless living in the village. She went back to the city, working, earning money and secretly sending some of her income to her mother in the village.

Nana still needs her factory job. Despite the hardships of working in the factory, she enjoys the freedom and independence of living alone, and being able to decide about her own life contribute to her maturity. Nana has lost her childhood. But she never regrets this, as she said:

"I didn’t have a childhood. My childhood was my job. But what do I care? I have never experiencing it anyway, so I miss nothing about it. I’m grateful enough that I did not end up in the street. As long as I have a roof to sleep, food to eat, that’s all that matters".

Nana still wishes to improve her life. She has given up attending formal education and wishes to take some courses. She wants to learn English as she wishes to work as a migrant worker someday.

(Date of interview: 9, 10 and 16 December 2006. Time of interview: After working hours, afternoon, and sometimes continue until night. I conducted the interview in her room. We occasionally went out for dinner in the nearby warung (food vendor). Nana called me kakak (older sister). One night (12 February 2007), Nana called me and asked if I can bring her to hospital. She fell on the wet floor while working and was vomiting when she returned home. I asked whether she reported the accident to her supervisor. She said she did, but her supervisor told her “anak kecil jangan cengeng” (small kid, don’t be spoiled). She begged me not to report this accident as she was afraid of being found speaking about her working condition. I also asked how she handled similar condition before she knew me, and her answer was ‘pasrah saja’ (give in).

Nugrah as a magician

2007-11-02T05:40:00.000-07:00

Hiding behind the beauty, part 2

2007-11-01T01:13:00.000-07:00

Another picture by Iman Burhanuddin. The river runs through in the backyard of my rental premise in Mamuju. People turn this place into a picnic area, where they can bring food to share or just sitting quietly and enjoying the scenary. Some people even swim in this river, especially little children. They usually swim after school with a group of friends. Some of them are as young as five years old, or even younger. It is such a delight to see children's faces. Laughing freely, splashing water to their friends, jumping from the rocks above. They show no fear....But, do you know what's hiding under this seemingly calm water? Crocodiles......According to people who has been living here almost all their life, there's always a case where a child gone missing in this river, at least once a year. So, those who has fear are the parents...for children?? Neee........crocodiles can not and will not stop them from having a wonderful childhood.....

(PS. I wish I could go back to Waru'e..a very kampung area in my home village, Pattiro Bajo, Bone, where I usually swam with my sisters...soaking our feet in the clean, flowing water, sitting on the rock in the middle of the river, and ate mango with salt and chilli while swimming...But those days are gone. I was told that the river is ruined now. The water is already polluted, no more gravel and rocks...I wonder, where else can I bring my two children to experience swimming in the real river??? Up to now, at the age of almost 10 and 11, they haven't felt the river....yet....)

Hiding behind the beauty, part 1

2007-10-31T23:42:00.000-07:00

This picture was taken by my brother in law, Iman Burhanuddin. It is located between Majene - Mamuju, West Sulawesi and a famous place to enjoy the sunset. One afternoon, as I and my husband traveled along, we saw a newly wed couple stopped by for pictures, wearing their colourful, yet, complicated wedding gown! But, sometimes beauty has its secret! One day, we were going back to Makassar and our car was about an inch away from a huge wave swaying from the sea...hitting the sea barrier and the road before swept back ....And, this is also the place where Adam Air was thought to have drowned...Yes, myth and superstition are still strongly recognised by people, especially in the remote area. However, the beliefs are ultimately important to preserve the nature. People are afraid to act against nature, even cutting the trees....Hm..just as they are afraid to run over a cat....There's always something hiding behind the beauty......

Whose quality time ?

2007-10-31T04:20:00.001-07:00

Years ago, 2003, I followed a short course on Nutrition and Leadership in Lido, Sukabumi, organised by SEAMEO Indonesia. It was a night of gathering to welcome all participants when Professor Corazon of Phillipines told us about her personal story which has been an inspiration for me ever since.

Her story started when she went out with her child and met her old friend in someplace. Professor Cora's friend asked her how she kept up with her busy life as an academic, professional as well as a mum. Professor Cora said, without doubt : " The most important thing is to spent the quality time with your children".

When Professor Cora and her child got home, her child suddenly asked her a question which she would never thought before: " Mum, whose quality time are you talking about?" Is it yours? Or mine?" Her child continued to say that every time he needed her, she was not there. Everytime she needed her help to do his homework, she was not there. She was there most of the time on weekends, when he doesn't need to do his homeworks, when he actually needed a time for himself.

Professor Cora admitted she could not say anything and never suggested and even talked about spending a quality time again, with others.

For me, this story was the most beautiful, touching and surreal lesson that teach me so much on how to listen and learn from my kids. Many of us, including me, do not even understand the meaning of quality time. So, I think, some questions remain important if one discuss about quality time: Who is it for ? How are we going to do it? When is the right time of what so called 'quality time'? How are we going to evaluate it? and the list goes on.....

To this end, I sincerely extend my gratitude to Prof Cora, for sharing her experience with us, particularly with me, so that I can start listen to my kids.

(The phrase used in this writing is of my responsibility. I recalled the words to the best of my ability to remember words by words. However, the story do not loose its precious meaning as it was the true story, and the emphasise was about the discourses on quality time).

work to live, or live to work?

2007-10-30T21:20:00.000-07:00

How many of us thought that our life will be better when we have a job? I feel confident to say that 100% will say 'of course'. Have any of us ever suffer from health problems? I will also feel confident that 100% will say 'Well, yes, of course'. Now, how many of us ever thought that in some cases, if not all, our health problems related to our work??? Hm...some might say 'yes' straight away, some will say 'yes...but,..' some will reluctant to say 'yes' and offer the answer 'no...' with long pause!!! How many of us fall to poverty due to battling ill health caused by long working hours, high demanded job, insecurity to loose job that force us to work off-limit? .......!!!???.......And, how many of us has lost time to see our kids grow because we simply not there for them?

Getting a job is everyone's dream. Who won't? With job, we can support our life economically, having social gain with extended network in our work, being able to improve our skills with, if lucky, free training course, free traveling, free meals...Sounds great, doesn't it?

But, have we ever thought 'the dark side' of this? Of people who become 'addicted' to the job? Of people who works in the most crumpy, stuffy, risky working environment? Of people who sacrifice their life to work but fail to make their works livable?

Not many people are fortunate enough to work less and gain more. More than half of world's community works miserably in the most miserable working condition and policy. Factory workers, one of the classic examples. Fear of retrenchment, high demand to meet production quota, rapid turn over for younger, quicker and faster workers, are just few reasons that push them to the edge of their life. Ill-health is their closest friend!

Let's make our working condition livable!