GREEN CANYON: A SENSATIONAL NATURE ADVENTURE

Opening the trip in the year of the Horse 2014, again my husband and I joined a bunch of strangers from The Indonesian Roadtrip to experience the famous Green Canyon for body rafting on 7-8 March 2014. We chose the provider because it regularly offers various trips to various areas around Indonesia on the weekend. So, the good news, we don’t have to skip from work. Next, the minimal budget is quite tempting. Travelling doesn’t need to be expensive. With only Rp. 600,000.- we could discover another natural beauty of Indonesia.

Despite body rafting in Green Canyon, the trip also offered an excursion to Batu Karas and Batu Hiu beach in Pangandaran, West Java. Yet, of the three, I was mostly amazed by the grandeur of natural cavernous rocky walls with scattered fresh springs alongside the Cijulang River where we bodied-rafting. 

Geen Canyon is located in the Kertayasa Village, Ciamis, West Java, approximately 31 km from Pangandaran Beach. The name was introduced by tourists from France as the color of the Cijulang river is very green. The locals call it Cukang Taneuh, meaning a land bridge referring to a bridge connecting the two villages of Kertayasa and Batukaras.

Boarding on the tour bus, we departed from Plaza Semanggi at 8.30 p.m. There were 52 people on board, mostly group of doctors from RSCM Hospital. It took approximately of ten hours to reach Cukang Taneuh (with several stops). We arrived at the site at 7.00 a.m.

With only an hour to have breakfast and rest, we had to hurriedly prepare our gears; helmet, kneecap, life vest, and mountain-sandal. At 9.00 a.m, we were ushered to four open pickup trucks to take us to the entrance gate of the water adventure. Ehm… we were a bit like a flock of sheep ready for slaughter.

The graveled road was bumpy and winding ups and downs that we bounced back and forth. We clutched tightly at the reel bar. Our stomach churned. Our heads bumped. The ordeal lasted for half an hour. The coconut trees and other vegetations along the road provided a refuge and distraction from the torturing trucks.

Once, we stopped, we knew the ordeal was far from over. Gee, glad I have already used to such travel. We continued on foot, trekking along the narrow path lined with gnarled roots and wild shrubs. Due to the heavy rain the night before, the narro

w line was slippery and muddy. The path reminded me of the trekking line in the little forest in the back of my grandma’s village. I enjoyed this journey more than the truck. I could savor each plant and wild little flowers alongside the forest. The morning insects and birds chirped and sang melodious tunes. It’s just PERFECT!!!

After half an hour, I could hear the sound of water lapping up against the rocks at a distant. The sound got louder as we trudged along. Through the leaves I could catch glimpses of the river, its water shimmering faintly in the dim light. Thanks Heaven, the color is green, unspoiled by the rain.

 We all got so excited and pushed forward in a speed. Yet, as we climbed down the river, the steeply slippery rocky beds posed a greater challenge. 

We had to maneuver our ways until we arrived at this giant cave door. A pungent odor swiftly attacked my nostrils, coming from inside the cave. Our guides said the offensive smell resulted from the bats’ droppings and feces. 

Curiosity took hold of me. Carefully, I stepped inside the cave. The deeper I went, the stronger the odor attacked. Darkness prevented me to see the cave roofs, thus the bats. I backed out as I heard my husband’s frantic call to lure me out.

Stepping out of the cave, he gave me his disapproving look, lol. I grinned ear to ear to tease him.

After a group photo, the water adventure began. Reluctant to climb down further, several people and I jumped off the cliff. Off course, our guides directed the course as many rocks were barely visible below. It was sensational. A rush of adrenaline sent a renewed energy. And I floated by downstream!!!

The natural painting of the rocky cavernous walls is breathtaking. The river is flanked by two hills adorned with dense vegetation.  Along the river, a row of rocky cliffs decorated by stalactites and stalagmites covered with algae. Fabulous! 

As my body drifted under those reliefs, drops of fresh waters cascaded down, forming little rains in slow motion. Closing my eyes, I could hear their rhythm pattern, joined by the melodious sound of the rushing water.

The spring is also drinkable. I was lucky to have gulp of it as I didn’t have mineral water with me. The cold fresh water was sensational as with the surrounding panorama. It’s beautiful and captivating.

Oftimes, we had to hop from rock to rock, maneuvering our ways to avoid the strong current that was deemed too dangerous for body rafting. The slippery rocks combined with the slippery mud posed greater challenge for our small group. We panted, slipped, fell and bruised.

However, the lust vegetation around the river and the majestic view of the river walls had captivated me. Luckily, I used to play and swim along the river back in my hometown so the challenge was easy to conquer.

I also had an adrenalin rush jumping from various cliffs down to the rushing waters. It was fantastic, feeling my blood pumped rapidly to the heart as my body flew down and hit the water from the height of five to eight meters. Water started to fill my mouth and nose as I plunged. Gaping, my head slowly bobbed up for an air.

It was exhilarating as well as addicting that I jumped over and over again whenever I got the chance. My husband frantically screamed at my daredevil. Ehm... Perhaps he would give me a hard pull in my ears once we were on land...lol.

The experience is rewarding and refreshing. Not only Indonesia is rich with natural resources, but it also has many hidden natural beauties to discover.

Batu Hiu Beach

 

Play for Creativity

 http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2014/03/12/your-letters-playing-creativity.html

My nephew tugged at my elbow. His bright eyes locked into the colorful interlocking plastic bricks in the form of minifigures from children popular characters such as Thomas and Ninja Go stashed neatly at the bookshelves. I dragged him to the children’s books section. He didn’t bulge.

“Can I have one of those please?” He pleaded.

I looked into his pleading eyes and felt a tug on my heartstrings. I looked at its price tag. My jaw dropped. The price was too expensive. Instinctively, I quickly turned around to go. Yet, the look of his expectant eyes tore down my walls. In the end, I yielded.

Since his encounter with Legos, my nephew love playing the game. He would deeply absorbed to assemble and construct various objects mostly in the form of robots and vehicles. He would put them together, taking them apart, then reassemble those colorful bricks. He didn’t have to read the manual. He just watched the design and pictures and put them on action. He learnt by doing. Often, he would race with his friends on this game.

I have to admit that he is skillful in the art, creating various objects with such speed. I could not compete with him. I am so lame in that game.

Perhaps, that’s what make Legos’ popularity remains high for over half a century. In this age of electronic games and hi tech toys, we often forget that it is often the simplest of inventions that can entertain a child for a long period of time. Lego has this concept, combining the traditional game with storytelling while maintaining its deliverable products’ quality.

The millions of plastic blocks fit together. Not a single brick snap or collapse. Through its products development, it sees that what kids want to do with those blocks is to tell stories. For that reason, Lego makes or licenses the stories they want to tell such as Indiana Jones, Winnie the Pooh, Toy Story and Star Wars.

My nephew also loves to play kelereng or gundu (marbles) and layang-layang or kite flying. These traditional games are economically affordable for all, easy to play, fun and are commonly played by most Indonesian children. Even adults often play the games as well.

Frankly speaking, I would rather see my nephew playing with legos, or any other hands-on toys than the state of-the-art, high tech computer games. I would rather have him turn off the TV and electronics, let him play and have fun, than passively entertained by or minimally interacting by way of a keyboard or control pad with an electronic device that confines their world in one tiny spot.

On the contrary, Lego and any other hands-on toys as well as the traditional games compel children to be creative and smarter. They make them develop their own creativity and skills. They also require the kids to physically active.

In spite of everything, play is the work of a child. Toys and traditional games are tools in which the children learn about their world, themselves and others. These games help kids to be active, make choices and figure out how things work.

So, let’s our kids play more outdoors. Do not let them glued to their electronic screen! Let them interact with the real world and learn about life step by step instead of taking instant lessons from online games that sometimes bring more negative influences. Let them play for fun! Let their creativity takes flight and free!

A Simple Act of Kindness Makes A Difference

http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2014/03/05/your-letters-the-ordinary-heroes-out-there.html

Immersing in my novel, I turned a deaf ear of the creaky child-like voice at the other end of the line. Afterall, there were some men sat near where the voice came from, so I thought, providing a justification on my selfish-action. Additionally, it was not any time soon the train would run again due to hours of delayed schedule. Securing a seat seemed to provide a refuge to my weary limbs. Sadly, the others had similar thought. So, no one offered the child a seat.

Yes, I have to admit, we are a bunch of selfish inconsiderate commuters who put our own interests above others. Our own comfort is the number one priority. As urban dwellers, we are increasingly becoming more self-centered. We lack care and concern for one another. The cruel city has turned our heart into stone. Ops, or it’s just our own true nature resurface when faced with hardship.

Long have we been gloated about heroism. Even Pancasila as the official philosophical foundation of the Indonesian state has long taught the concept of heroism. Fortunately, such word is not yet ingrained in soul. Today we sometimes toss the word around without thinking much about it. We understand the concept of a hero. We often fail to follow such path even in its simplest deed.

By actual definition, heroes are individuals who consistently and continually sacrifice their own needs in the interest of others. They change others for the better. Their inks leave prints forever in others. They are ordinary people who do extraordinary things and make a difference.

I was sitting on the computer this evening, trying to be productive and actually write something after weeks of absent from writing. During this deadlock, my husband switched on the TV and ‘voila’ I watched an inspiring program of “Kick Andy’s Heroes 2014.”

The show was remarkable and moving, an inspiration and reminder of what the word hero is intended to mean. It provided a sense of hope and concrete examples of what we could all do to help lift ourselves as a society out of what was a pretty dark moment took hold.

Indeed Kick Andy Show has always been as an anomaly amid hundreds of TV programs full with violence, corrupting soap operas, boring political warring, twisted parade of twisted corrupted justice system and woman sexuality. The show offers fresh outlook and beautiful insights about human as a social being complete with all their potential.

The Kick Andy’s Heroes spotlights the everyday heroes among us. They are not famous celebrities, politicians or executives. They are ordinary people just like us. Yet, they are agents of hope and change who had committed themselves to improving the lives of others.

These ordinary people are beautiful example of how simply living your life with a spirit of generosity and kindness can make a huge difference in the lives of all those you touch. They work in silence, far away from any publication, yet their work touch the life of may and bring light out of the dark.

Two heroes that stole my attention tonight are Ibu Fitria Nugrahaningrum and Bapak Lalu Slamet Suriawan Shak. Becoming permanently blind at four did not discourage Ibu Fitria to give something to her community. Nurturing and educating street children has helped them to pursue a better life.

While Bapak Slamet has crazily chopped off the 18 metres stony hill to bring water to his desolated village. What once deemed as an impossible nut job bore fruit after 30 years of perseverance, faith, and hard work. The barren wasted land is magically turned into acres of green paddies fields and plantation. The water has drastically changed the life of people in his area economically and socially.

Then I think about my selfish action during that cursed day when my train suffered a glitch. I should have offered the child with his mother a seat instead of pretending not to notice. If only we, commuters, can at least do such simple act of kindness, perhaps it helps living in the city worthwhile. Perhaps, it helps us and others to contribute to make the city life better J

Do You Believe in Ghosts?

http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2014/02/04/your-letters-the-supernatural-our-world.html

Do you believe in supernatural things: ghost, psychics or magic? Perhaps, you have met a black shadow slithering in the dark, whispering things of horror or a white apparition floating by. Picturing all these gothic silhouettes send a thrill and chills down our spine, our hearts stand still for a moment. Well, believe it or not, most people in this country have such superstition, embracing the realm of ‘the unseen world’ with either skeptical curiosity or blind faith.

Possibly, one of you remembers waking up in bed in the dead of the night, your brain has turned on, yet your body was frozen. You tried to pry your eyes open to no avail. You wanted to scream but you froze, not even able to move a finger. It felt like you were being restrained by something unseen, an entity of the outer world. You lost control over your body. Off course, it lasted only a minute or so but felt like eternity. Many religions and cultures believe, or once believed, that this sleep paralysis was a form of physical contact with demon or Jinn.

This belief is nurtured and nourished systematically through the many Indonesian horror movies, sinetron (soap opera), glorifying most popular ghost stories in our folklore and urban legends. People know those stories by heart such as pocong (the soul of a dead person trapped in its shroud), kuntilanak (undead woman who died during childbirth and seeking revenge), Si Manis Jembatan Ancol (Maryam the Sweet Maiden of Ancol Bridge), suster ngesot (the scary sliding nurse) or local heroes who can fly and throw fireballs at the villains, etc. These stories become a source of entertainment for many of us, unconsciously instilling constant fears of such superstition.

We unfortunately for the most part are exposed further with reality ghost sighting programs on televisions, showing a group of clerics wearing attributes like turbans performing martial arts moves and rituals to perform an exorcism or malevolent haunting of certain house or place.

People believe in the susuk (charm needle) to bring beauty, fame and respect by implanting a sort of short needle made of gold, diamond or crystal into the flesh. There are also the santet/teluh/tenung (black magic to inflict pain and suffering) to torture and harm their foes with magic.

This black arts have been blamed for inciting social and personal ills around the world, resulting in someone’s illness, death, mental or physical suffering. Countless homicides of suspected witches were killed in rural Indonesia, and hundreds more were taken into police custody to be protected from angry mobs. As the evidence of such arts is hard to obtain, people tend to accuse due to hatred or dislike which put more chaos in the society much the same way of the with hunt in the middle age.

In addition, news programs and magazines often cover stories on how a shaman (a person who is believed to possess mystical power) involved in contestation for power in Indonesia politics to deliver good luck and safety for the clients who are running for power in political race. Approaching the legislative election, these shamans or dukuns race to the House offering their services, guaranteeing them to get re-elected in the forthcoming contest.

To my utter disbelief, some of our esteemed legislators and key power holders use the service of psychics as their spiritual consultants. Wow... They are just plainly fools or insecurity has driven them out of their minds! Strangely, even the national televisions have this phenomenon in their prime time news coverage. My eyes bulged in total dismay. How could all those things be on national television?

The reason is plainly simple “It sells”. People crave for such controversy. Since the media plays a very important role in educating the people, it all adds up to the superstitious-ism. “Supernatural power takes control.”

As if this is not bad enough, recently in his book, our beloved President retold his encounter with dark magic at his house. Dark clouds attacked his residency! Congratulation! He has finally followed the shoes of his predecessor. Soeharto’s leadership is also perceived as part of the Javanese cultural leadership based on its mystical elements.

Welcome to Mystic (Klenik) Republic! Lol.

While it is his personal right to express his freedom of speech, personally, I think it is not a smart move. Although many Indonesians believe in such supernatural things, including myself, it is not wise to voice it all aloud in his book while there are still many more important issues to address. It’s just a matter of appropriateness related to his role as the highest public post holder.

It is not surprising the government has pushed to include witchcraft crime to be punishable up to five years imprisonment in the Indonesian Criminal Code amendment last year that sparked a heated debate.

Again, to prove the wrongdoings inflicted by supernatural power poses a stumbling block, a super human challenge to bring such crime at court. Laws are needed to stop the practice of such black magic, but it is not easy to legislate against what you can't see. How would you drag a ghost or a jinn into to stand on trial, huh?

Likewise, I find it silly to link expiration of Yudhoyono’s term in 2014 for flooding, volcanic eruptions and earthquakes as evidence that God is not happy with him. It is irrational and baseless.

As being a Muslim, I believe that Jinns are present and our Holly Quran says so. They reside in an unseen world in dimensions beyond the visible universe of humans and have the freewill as humans do. Thus, they have the capacity to choose between good and evil.

As with Jinn, magic (witchcraft or sorcery) is something that exists. This witchcraft always brings destructive force, manipulating the weak-minded and summoning them to do bad deeds. Often, men seek such dark arts to do harms unto others and benefit none. Thus, it is haram (forbidden) and considered a sin to practice it.

Sadly, many of us turn to shamans to rid of such witchcraft instead of our Faith. These shamans, then disguised in a cloak of religion, formulate an amulet bearing Qur’anic verse, things made from pearls or bones, worn on the necks, or hung up in the houses or cars to ward off evils. In doing so, they treat these amulets as if they are some kind of magic mantra to cast spells like Harry Potter’s “aresto momentum”, “expelliarmus” or “wingardium leviosa.”

In the end, instead of strengthening our faith, we tend to plunge into the dark abyss of shirk, practicing idolatry or polytheism. Yes, such supernatural beings exist, but it is grossly wrong to worship and get enslaved by such dark power. It is in God alone we should put our faith in.

Promoting the Ugly Truth of Smoking

http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2014/01/22/your-letters-the-ugly-truth-smoking.html

As heavy rain kept pattering on my windowpane this morning, my drowsiness jolted out of my body when news coverage on how Australia’s plain packaging policy has worked well to deter its citizen, particularly teenagers from smoking.

Euwwww... I gave a snort of disgust at the graphic images of mouth ulcers, cancerous lungs and gangrenous limbs on the plain packaging of tobacco products. Oh yeah... Definitely such gruesome packaging would send an immediate psychological leap of disgusting taste. I would have ran off in terror!

The ugly truth of smoking looks real and haunting in real pictures!

A recent survey by British Heart Foundation showed that cigarette packets featuring health warnings deter a third of British teenagers from smoking, and nearly eight in ten young people or 77% think the UK should introduce standardized cigarette packs like those used in Australia.

Then, a question leaped out of my brain: Will such policy applicable to Indonesia where smoking kills at least 225,000 people annually? Not to mention that Indonesia is the only WHO member state in Asia that has not yet ratified the Framework Convention on Tobacco Control?

A study on Indonesia as one of the major cigarette smoking countries in 2008 also revealed that healthcare costs attributed to tobacco-related illnesses amount to 11 trillion IDR each year (1.2 billion US) and in 2005, households with smokers spent 11.5% of their income on tobacco products compared to 11% spent on fish, meat, eggs and milk combined, 3.2% on education and 2.3% on health.

This is grossly maddening on how people choose cigarette over basic needs such as education and health which play significant role to the betterment of their future life.

Despite these staggering facts, the government seems halfheartedly to take bolder measures to discourage its citizens from smoking. The classic argument centers always on the argument that tobacco industries have the trickle down effect  on tax and job. This nation has become addicted to the revenues produced by taxed placed upon tobacco products and the mass employment offered by the industries. It weighs only the benefits of economic health in the short run, but ignore the financial loss and health cost caused by the industries over the the nation in the long run.

For this reason, tax on tobacco in Indonesia is stil relatively  low compared to other countries in the region and falls below the World Bank’s recommendation that taxes make up two-thirds to four-fifths of retail price. Consequently, tobacco products’ price is inexpensive and affordable to attract more people to initially take up the habit and ensure the return business of addicted patrons.

My regular minivan driver constantly stopped at the traffic light to buy one cigarette for Rp. 1,000,- , smoking along the way and choking my breath at the back seats.

There’s no such smoke-free environment as well because people have always reluctant to obey the laws, knowing they would walk free easily. People can find cigarette almost in every nook and cranny of the city and puff as they please in anywhere they please. Oh, what a sweet heaven for smokers!

To make matter it worse, misleading tobacco advertising, promotion and sponsorship is generally allowed in Indonesia, with only a few restrictions. It generates another tax income for the government! It strengthens the glitz and glitter of tobacco products.

Spectacular and glamorous musical concerts all over Indonesia are generally sponsored by big glitzy tobacco industries that feed the public with an image of glamour and classy if you puff. Elite prestigious sports often get similar sponsor that unconsciously send a message that smoking and extreme athleticism go hand in hand. Cigarette ads on TV and public spaces also implicitly say that you’re successful and sexy if you have a cigarette at hand.

These ads stand tall and proud,  smiling like a siren and say “Join the Club guys! It’s smoking sexy, hot, fun and classy!” And who will not fall for such alluring and beguiling sweet persuasion.

As to the required warning labels (that is supposedly to discourage people from smoking) on all smokeable tobacco product packages, the warning of “smoking can cause cancer, heart attacks, impotence, and disturbances to pregnancy and fetal development”,  is put always on the back of the package with tiny letters. It is barely noticeable and mostly will be ignored entirely, drown in the sparkling gold or silver packet that catch and please the eye.

It just doesn’t work!

Considering all these unhappy facts, I personally believe that adopting the standardized plain packaging policy featuring graphic images or warnings of the health-risk posed by smoking will  deter people particularly teenagers from smoking. Smokers are more likely to consider giving up seeing such horrifying images, thinking that the taste would go hand in hand with the ugly pictures.

Further, the images will help to break the cycle of misleading iconic cigarette ads, giving it a brand new stamp to smoking as less stylish and sociable, degrading and not as attractive and cool to mimic. Young people will feel discouraged looking at the plain cigarette packs, thus cutting off the chain of “replacement” smokers progressively.

Bring on the ugly truth of smoking in real and I believe such measure will have a dramatic effect. It takes guts to impose such harsher requirement for cigarette packaging. It takes a bold government to initiate such a change.

The question remains: Does the government have what it takes to implement such policy as in increasing the tobacco tax up to standard? It means waging a war with gigantic tobacco industries that have wrapped this nation with their ugly, hideous tentacles!

Death Becomes Her

http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2014/01/11/your-letters-death-becomes-her.html

As I read the news on the recent untimely dead of a Venezuelan girl due to unsafe silicon injection and how the country is trapped in a culture of beauty, my heart mourned with sympathy. I could relate her ‘ill-advised action’ to my own and to women all across the globe in general. 

We, girls, grow up honestly believing that we have to look like something that come out of fashion magazines, movies, and ads. Even fairy tales portray beauty in such image: Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel, and many more. We've seen them exclusively featuring ideally thin, tall, fair skin women as the only happy and desirable ones, zooming in on parts of women’s bodies and pan up and down those parts.

Such is an ideal, by definition, can be met by only a minority of those who strive for it. Yep, beauty may not be skin deep, yet it doesn't stop women from putting their best.

Women are brainwashed by these bombardments that they value beauty more than their personal well-being. Striving to attain the ideal takes great toll either in coffers or personal well-being in the form of physical pain, health problems, medical procedures, psychological effects as well as time and effort.

They empty their coffer on expensive cosmetics and bleaching products. Some frenetically and compulsively implement severely restrictive and nutritionally deficient diets, developing bizarre eating habits to attain certain body weight and shape. Many go as far as to have plastic surgery, breasts implant, lips suction or buttock injection to improve their looks and physical appearance in expense of their health, even their life.

In Indonesia, mushrooming skin care clinics and beauty salons have offered varies of treatments to improve one’s look up to beauty standards. Hospitals also provide cosmetic plastic surgery. These places are sweet nectar for women.

Months ago, as I lay on the patient table, squirming in unimaginable pain while my dermatologist applied chemical substances on my face, I thought how the hell did I get here in the first place?!

The burning sensation was excruciating. Not to mention the feeling of tens of thousands of tiny red ants and creepy scorpions viciously injected their venoms on my face.

Guess what, the answer is simple and matter-of-factly: I want to have a fair skin. But wait! It’s not for the wrong reason as in pursuing beauty culture (ops, is it self-denial?), but due to my skin problem.

Formerly, I didn’t care about the spreading acnes and cysts on my face, leaving the pores of the skin to clog with oil and dead skin. Hey, I am married and my husband is generous enough not to criticize my monstrosity. I said to myself “I am beautiful on the inside”, promoting the wise theory as poor excuse to justify my look lol.

“You are beautiful just the way you are,” My husband said teasingly with a grin from ear to ear.

Hell yes, I love being Shrek-like! (lol)

My fortress fell apart to pieces when people I met at office, bus, train and any other public places asked me with concern. They began hurling me with skin products and promoted certain skin cares for a try. My face would have got a tinge of color if it was white…lol. I had to swallow my pride hard at this commentary and kept flashing my widest grin ever, thanking them with suppressed anger.

In the end, I gave up. I went to the famous skincare clinic that has reputable name with licensed specialist doctors. After years, my acne problem lessened. People stopped annoying me with their campaign of beauty. I lived in peace afterwards: happy and content!

Until one day, my dermatologist asked me whether I would like to try ‘peeling program’ to correct my scarring associated with acne. After some hesitation, I said “Why not? It’s absolutely for health reason! (Is it?)” while looking at the commercial ads promoting the program.

Once again, my serenity turned upside down!

That’s what brought me to that torture chamber. Afterwards, I told my dermatologist; never ever again would I want such ordeal. As long as my grizzly acnes did not come to revisit me, I would be content enoughJ.

Drawing form this personal experience, I don’t advocate women to purse beauty ideals created and maintained by pop culture products. Beauty is nothing but a fleeting nature, defeating by age and time.

How can we race against time that cuts down and destroys all things that are beautiful? Time causes beauty to fade, people to age and life to end.

So, why bother pursuing such ideal only to end up in vain. Is it worth it to trade your life and soul with momentary triumph of being a beauty?

Duh... I choose NO. I don’t want to end up like Dorian Gray or the Venezuelan girl.

Flashing my smile, I hammer the wisdom that inner beauty is a dozen times more important that the artificial one in my bone. It’s a mantra I cling on tightlyJ.

Ehm, sounds too good to be true and naïve, isn’t it? But that’s the hardcore truth.

As Oscar Wilde, the renowned Iris dramatist, novelist and poet, has once admonished us that “It’s beauty which captures your attention; personality captures your heart.

And The Stars Are Falling

http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2014/01/04/your-letters-and-stars-are-falling.html

Whether we have a quiet contemplation at home with friends and family, throw or attend a party with bonfire and barbecue, head out to the town or take the family to see the fireworks, hiking a mountain, have it celebrate with champagne, dancing and kissing your loved ones when the clock strikes midnight sharp or just have a nice wonderful sleep at home, we all tend to see the New Year in some way.

As for me, the temptation to spend the last night of 2013 with elves, hobbits, dwarves, werewolves, and off course the legendary dragon was far too strong to resist. What’s better than having the experience of wandering around the mystical Middle Earth in The Desolation of Smaug through the 4D movie at Blitzmegaplex Grand Indonesia. Who knew I might be able to steal a glance at the stars falling from the cloudy skies afterwards.

Well... the two hours and a half of 4D movie was worth to experience. The visual effect and technique was spectacular, a living proof on how advanced technology keeps us in constant awe and wonder. The thrilling journey sadly ended at 10.30 p.m. The thirst for the Middle Earth was not yet quenched.

The only regret I had was when I saw the spectators littered the room with plastic bags. Why on earth it was so hard to keep the waste awhile and dump it in the garbage bin later on. Education and social class seem does not correlate directly with the degree of awareness for not littering.

As my husband and I stepped outside the mall, hundreds of thousands of people already swarmed the area, snaking along the Hotel Indonesia traffic circle and its surrounding streets, to watch the Jakarta Festival Night. Parents took their toddlers along. Lovers entwined their arms with eyes full of promises. Groups of Teenagers just wanted to see the promised spectacular view on the special night, satisfying their urge for adventure. Festival goers with their fancy dress. Street buskers who tried eking out of a living from the one night show. All mingled in one melted pot.

People crowded snapping pictures of the thundering skies as fireworks began to dance, forming sparkling stars above. The falling silver-spark trail behind the glittering of each star was like small thunder jets. It’s great to see.

Even the faint drizzle did not prevent the festival goers to wait for the countdown, having fun and enjoy the celebration to mark the arrival of the New Year in the capital. All waited the pinnacle of event when the clock strikes at 12.

Already, the stars were falling. Large number of spark trailing stars falling slowly in an umbrella patter cheered the merry spectators during the interval. The deafening fireworks lighted up the skies. Many blew their trumpets ceaselessly. It’s really something to watch.

I loved to gaze at the glittering skies. But I disliked the raucous noises. Too much blaring sounds to suit my taste. What’s annoyed me more was that I found again people littering around without any guilt. They threw plastics and waste without restraint despite the calling from Jakarta Mayor to keep Jakarta clean. I bet the next morning, tons of waste would be collected.

Fighting our way to Sudirman train station was not an easy job. Several times we had to detour our route as some main thoroughfares around the area were blocked. Walking amid ocean of people was really exhausting and got on our nerves. The annoying sounds of horns, trumpets and firecrackers sent me jittery all the way. One split second, I got separated from my husband. It was really frustrating.

What normally took only 15 minutes of walk from Hotel Indonesia traffic circle to the train station extended by one hour and a half. We had to find small alleys and passages to get to the station, avoiding the blocked roads. Still, we could catch a glimpse of the dense spherical burst of stars, leaving a burning trail of tiny particles as they expanded outward.

Arriving at the station did not automatically send us to a rescue. We missed the last train in the nick of time. The additional train would depart at 1.50 a.m. So, we had to wait for around two hours at the dim station.

The platform was deserted when we got there. We were among the first to arrive. Unfortunately, after minutes went by, more people crowded the platform. Regardless of age and status; old and young, rich and poor; all gathered to wait for the last train to Bogor area. Next to me was a family of six, sprawling their legs to ease their exhaustion. Many others just slumped on the floor while chatted merrily about the fireworks they saw. Some talked about the artists performed on stage.

Well, despite the hang-over clearly written on the faces, I spotted happiness as well. It’s a once year festival. It’s time to just have fun before new dawn broke.

To kill the time, I read the book I just bought.
Reading my book, I couldn't help but thinking. On New Year’s Day, when the party, fireworks, and toasts are finally over, many of us will become more serious about life. What’s next after the celebration and what’s it to celebrate for really? Something is amiss.

In contemplation, I think that we all want something as a sense of purpose and accomplishment, thus a pleasure when achieving it. That’s why people make resolutions as the most popular custom as the new chapter of the year begins to roll. They function as direction to stir new courses of action to better our lives. Such as in making resolution to not littering around ever again this year and forward .

Fulfilling the resolution will give us pleasure and happiness. That’s the essence of making a resolution, a purpose in life to attain happiness. It’s the meaning of the New Year: that tomorrow will always be a better day than today.

So, every one, fill your glass of life to the full–and drink deep to your resolution and make it comes true.

Happy New Year. Happy life.