To love, to Happiness, to Indonesia

It's so ironic that the greatest pain in the world stems from our love. An inherent contradiction in this joke that is the world. The heavy feeling in my heart that I was too scared to name manifested itself in the phone call I had just now with my parents in the simple form of tears. As I spoke of my bapak, ibu, and adik, as if it was only natural, my voice started breaking without my control and the next thing I knew, there was suddenly a reason why I needed to use my sleeve to wipe my face. The love I gave them, I gave it all without restraint, without second thought, without caution. Now that my heart is slowly breaking into pieces every time I go to sleep, knowing that I have one less day in their home, do I regret it? Do I regret loving them? No. That's like saying I regret every laugh I have shared with them, every prank we've pulled on one another, every family outing, and every single piece of happiness I have had in these past 1.5 months. No, it's only as painful as I was happy. To know that it hurts me to much, I should be grateful that I was able to feel the same magnitude of joy and happiness. Their memory will be with me forever. To Indonesia, where my love will always remain.

In other news, last weekend, I found paradise. Seriously, it was like I landed in a Pirates of the Caribbean movie. I got off the boat, walked the white sands, and asked my buddy, "Where's Johnny Depp?" I'll talk more about my weekend in paradise next time. Heartbreak and paradise don't mix too well together in the same post, they'll only take away from each other.

The Flying Hippo

Yesterday, I went to Simpang Lima in Semarang all by my onesy-self. Very surprisingly, the conductor spoke to me in Indonesia. As of course, my response as usual was a "???" I really didn't want to do this, but I was convinced otherwise. My friend was visiting Semarang and really wanted to hang out with people, and although I kept saying that it was difficult for me to go by myself and return by myself so late at night, I did it anyway against my better judgment. So I wandered the mall for awhile, it was very nice. It's difficult for me to go shopping with other people besides my mother. Thus, at last, it took me three visits to the mall before I actually enjoyed it. Although it may just be my imagination, I think maybe going to malls by yourself is a rare thing because I attracted a lot of unusual glances. After awhile, I met up with my friend and watched "Harry Potter: The half-blood prince." Hilarious, but dark movie to say the least. I'll always remember watching Harry Potter in Indonesia, as I remember watching the Dark Knight in San Diego.

It's almost 10 PM here in Ungaran, Indonesia. Today was the most awesome day ever. Finally, I visit Sidomukti with Hera. Flying fox was ....awesome. I feel like some sort of fangirl blogging about an encounter with a tween superstar at a movie premiere. As I was high in the sky, moving across from hilltop to hilltop with only air separating me from the ground below, I could not help but laugh. I screamed at first because I don't like surprises much, and for some reason, it surprised me how short the duration of anticipation lasted and the conductor behind me just pushed me off the edge. But as I 'flew,' I could not help but feel ecstasy running through my veins, and that every part of me loved that I could feel nothing but the rush of moving air.

After the Flying Fox, I crossed the marine bridge. This was not as scary as I thought, but it was a lot more difficult than I thought. Silly me did not bring walking shoes, thus I had to walk across it barefoot because i was positive that if I wore my scandals, it would drop into the abyss below. Kidding, there's no abyss, but not kidding about the dropping. I was more worried about making a fool out of myself than falling off the bridge, which in fact would be pretty humiliating, so I suppose I was afraid of that, but not for the same reasons a normal person would be afraid for. I could not bear the thought of getting my leg stuck on that bridge and go through the humiliating process of it all: 1) Everyone discovering your embarrassing predicament; 2) Everyone watching as you struggle to get out of your predicament; 3) Failing and looking like a fat cow; 4) Succeeding to get your right leg out only to discover that your left leg just fell in as well. I was lucky to not have looked like a fool out there. I was not scared at all, but the person in front of me seemed very nervous and kept shaking the bridge as she walked. Several times, it made me fall off balance. But it was a wonderful experience. For some reason, being stuck on a bridge with other people and having people on both sides watching, encouraging, discouraging, and laughing at you really forms a human bond. For that one hour I spent AT the marine bridge (I wasn't ON it for an hour), somehow, everyone learned my name, probably because Hera kept screaming it, which then caused everyone else to scream it. And it's very interesting, because I managed to influence everyone to speak in English, at least to the best of their abilities. All I did was complain to Hera in English and before I knew it, people were speaking to their Indonesian friends in English. For me, it was very interesting. I guess I am very impressionable, despite what country I am located in. After I was done, it was my turn to laugh as Hera stumbled around the bridge. We met some guy that kept shaking the bridge, or as Hera calls him, "crazy man." It was so hilarious when people are all bunched up together on the bridge, and people start shaking it from the ends, and the people on the bridge fall down like dominoes. Oh, it's the best.

After the marine bridge, I did some rapelling. It was my first time. All my new found friends from the marine bridge sure enjoyed watching me struggle.
"Haven't you ever watched S.W.A.T.?!"
"I'm not S.W.A.T."
"They do it in movies, you know!"
"Well, it sure looked easy in the movies!"
"Be like Spiderman!"
"I'm not a spider, nor a man, and I'm certainly not Spiderman!"
"You're suppose to be like, in a 'sleeping' position."
"I really don't feel like 'sleeping' on air this very moment."
I managed to overcome my reluctance to be almost perpendicular to the ground. It was very easy after that. Although there was a moment where I slipped and I was just hanging and bumping my fat head and ass on the rocks. I believe my exact words were, "Ow, aw man."

I'm too itchy to think of a title. Plus, I have to pee. Hey, this is a good title.

I just came back from my 3 day trip to Solo. Believe me, I've never been so excited to leave a place. For 3 days, I felt trapped in a very large boarding house with no one to talk to, and no place to run when the mosquitoes came flying after me. I felt like a sitting duck trying to ward off an army of blood suckers. On my second night in Solo, after being eaten alive (I swear, what the mosquitoes are doing, is not humane!), I decided to 40% DEET their mosquito asses! Well, it worked, I think. Although I've suffered a lot, there isn't one thing I would change. Since I've been in Indonesia, I've learned to take it all in and appreciate everything. Well, I don't look at an insect bite and think "This sure sucks, but I appreciate it, mosquito friends!" but I think "Although this sucks, I'm so blessed to be here in Indonesia. It is a small price to pay."

Last night, I saw my first full moon in Indonesia. Of course, full moons may have appeared more often during the duration I was here, but last night was the first time I noticed it. It reminded me of home. No matter where we are on Earth, everyone looks at the same moon. It's nice to have something so constant. It's like a souvenir from home that is always in your pocket, and it's something you can never lose or forget, which is a plus for clumsy people like me. In Solo, the night sky seemed so vast. In Indonesia, there is so much open land, no skyscrapers, just humble buildings that don't attempt to tower to the heavens. Then it hit me. I finally realized how far the heavens truly are, how incredibly vast the Earth truly is, and how small we are, like a microscopic particle in the greater universe. Sure we can do a bit of calculations, or build things thousands of times our size, or make little gadgets that make our lives easier. We have a bit of paper that we spend, we use it to buy useless things that make us temporarily happy. But ultimately, we are just small things. Who are we to ever be cocky? Who are we to ever be arrogant about ourselves? Our lives can never be eternal like the moon or our lives constant like the sunrise. We always try to find new ways to change the world we live in, but we still remain under the jurisdiction of the natural laws of the universe. Who are we to ever be so certain about anything other than that we can be certain about nothing?

Silly me, I still have not mentioned why I was in Solo. My school had a dance competition in Solo. I guess it's an annual thing. Every year, all the "disabled" schools in Central Java come and compete. There's music and dancing. Note that I quote "disabled" because that's what they call it here. In Indonesia, people don't spend their time trying to be politically correct. I suppose that's an American thing, always "spending way too long checking my tongue in the mirror" (Jason Mraz song, yo!). Anyway, so I've been spending a lot of time with blind, deaf, and handicapped kids. They are really amazing. Sure others consider them physically disadvantaged, but these people can do things I can never do. They are not disadvantaged, they are just different.

I absolutely love my ibu and my bapak. I swear, my bapak and I are like two peas in a pod. We're both immature and spend too much time playing pranks on each other. You would think I would be homesick by now. Sure there are things I miss, but I'm too busy worrying about the little time I have left in Indonesia to think about returning to my life in the United States. I truly love this country, its people, and especially my host family. Some may say, "how can you love people you've only most recently met?" I say, "If love makes the world go round, why be so selfish with it?"

Blogger Mode

In the past few days, I've had so many things I wanted to share with the reader(s) of my blog (Reader Count: 1 - Myself). But tragedy struck, I lost my phone. I'm trying to not be so sad about it, but it's all I'm thinking about. I mean, I could have lost my passport! If I lost my passport, I would have wished "Oh man! I wish I lost my cell phone!" Or I could have lost my passport...at the airport. I would have wished "Oh man! I wish I lost my passport earlier!" Or I could have lost my camera. And then I would have thought "Oh man! I wish I lost my cell phone, the camera is much more valuable!" Or worse, I could have lost my memory card. I would have though "Oh man, I wish I lost my camera, the camera is replaceable!" Or I could have somehow lost my life, but then I don't know if I could wish I have lost something else. But as a living, breathing person right now, I am glad I didn't lose my life. I wouldn't know where to find another one. Ebay is selling a new Samsung A707 for $90.00. I would be worse off if I lost my wallet and it contained $91.00!!

Long story short, I'm trying to not be sad because it's only a phone. I might sound like an ass to some by saying "it's only a phone" like I'm some sort of richass. But I keep remembering what Tyler Durden said in Fight Club, "The things you own end up owning you." No way! The only thing I want to own me is my momma...and probably chemistry, but only because it's part of the natural laws of the universe.

Changing the World

I came here thinking that I would change or touch somebody's life in this country. But now I realized, it's me who is being changed.

I feel my heart opening up to the world. They told me that I always have to smile because it's polite and to not do so, would cause misunderstandings. It's pretty easy for me now. My smiles are genuine.

Bule! Bule!

Back from another long day exploring Semarang. It was my first time on a motorbike, and I loved it. Sure my ass hurt a bit on the rocky roads, but on both sides of me, I see ricefields, trees, grass, farmers fishing, and suddenly my ass doesn't seem to care so much anymore. He (sorry! I'm no good with Indonesian names) asked me if it's like this in my country. I told him no, this country is a lot more peaceful.

Played with some angry, greedy monkeys today! They are really eager for peanuts! We had to hike down the hill to see the waterfall and caves. I wanted to die! It never ceases to amaze me how the heat and all the uphill walking never fazes them! They are like super people! Or maybe it's Americans that really like to sit on their bottoms all day. Afterwards, we visited the Great Mosque in Semarang. And after that, we visited the beach. I've never seen so much clothing on a beach before, haha.

When I was deciding whether I should visit Indonesia or not, the travel warning for Americans really concerned me. On top of that, my parents and close friends warned me about Moslem extremists and I was crazy for an American to visit a Moslem country for so long. I've come to realize that it was all negative speculation from people who really don't know what they are talking about. I'm not saying to ignore the recent Jakarta hotel bombing or any other terrorism directed at Westerners in Indonesia, but it would be wrong to say that the entire country is hostile to Westerners. Since I've been here, I've met the kindest people I have ever met. I feel sad that I have to leave Dejavato and move in with my host family. It's only been less than a week, and I've grown so attached to this place. In fact, I've grown attached to the people I met today whom I toured Semarang with, especially the person whose jacket I've spent a good couple hours holding for dear life.

So there we were sitting outside the Mosque waiting for our friends to finish praying, which is pretty much the most Moslem place there is, and remained unharmed. Instead, people wanted to take picture with the "bule," or "white foreigner." Of course, they were not addressing me, but Maddy and Alexia. They were full of smiles. I swear, here in Semarang, being a "bule" will make you the most popular person around the area. So many funny stories.

Long story short, I've never been happier anywhere in my life.

We are #1! We are #1!

So I see a lot of these ads when I checking my Yahoo! mail. Interesting, isn't it? It's like everybody outside of the United States wants an opportunity to come in. I don't know how true that is, but it's pretty cocky to assume so, isn't it?

Going for a Ride

Who says I'm not a daredevil? It's no wonder why my Math 3C professor said that young people statistically have a greater probability of dying every day than other people. We, young people, think that we can live forever. Yesterday evening, I was sitting on one of those carriages at the Semarang city center and went on a lengthy ride. When I say carriage, you might imagine a pretty horse straight for the pages of a fairytale and romantic flowers decorated all around. Well, it was sort of like that, but without a horse or flowers, with a little more of scrappy metal, dirty seats, and a brave Indonesian man just bicycling away in the midst of merciless traffic. I really felt like a poor whale sperm swimming in an ocean of sharks, trying to find my way home.

This is me throughout the entire ride:
"Whoa, whoa, whoa.."
30 seconds later,
"Whoaz!" *pant pant*
5 seconds later,
"Dear God Almighty, Lord in Heaven, Everlasting Father,..."
7 seconds later,
"AMEN! AMEN! AMEN!!!"

And I thought L.A. traffic was bad. And even worse, I thought Chinese traffic was the worse.

What am I?

So far, it's been an interesting experience. Yesterday, when I was flying over Indonesia, the first thing I noticed was the color green. Even over Jakarta, the place is full of greenery. The city was not towering with skyscrapers, nor was it bustling with cars like it would be in New York City. I'm very excited to be part of this experience, I'm sure there is plenty for me to learn from and take from. The people here are very kind, especially here in Dejavato. I feel right at home. They say it's part of Indonesian culture to be always friendly and smiling ever so brightly. The kindness and friendliness here is so overwhelming, it's almost enough to melt by stone cold heart. Lol, I kid. But since it's part of their culture to be so friendly, I find it inappropriate to always wear my Nancy frown on like I do back home.

As I sit here typing this blog inside the Indonesian home of some of the friendliest people I have ever met, a young French woman lays next to me, peacefully reading. And next to her, a woman from Austria. To the right of me is a bookshelf filled with books that were donated by all the different volunteers that were here before me. I see Korean and Japanese script, German, and other European text I do not have the experience to recognize. Myself as an American-born Chinese. There's just so much diversity and culture here, it's amazing.

By the way, did I mention what a confusing presence I cause people? On the plane, the kind Indonesia-born, Taiwanese citizen asked if I was Taiwanese. I told her I was American, and she responded "How come you don't look American?" I lol'd in my head, and answered the best I can, "I don't know." Here at Dejavato, I perpetuate the same kind of confusion. Not to mention how "unamerican" I look, they would not have guessed I was Chinese. To them, I look like an Indonesian. It's very interesting what people from different countries percieve as "American." You would think that America, quite known for its characteristic of being a "melting pot," I wouldn't have encountered the confusion I have in the past 24 hours, how wrong I was.

The things we love, can they love us back?

A woman who spends half her day maintaining her garden. You can't find more beautiful and more loved flowers in the world.

A girl who is always seen holding her teddy bear. Sure it's a tad dirty, but she'll cry the entire hour her mom takes it away to wash.

The man who spends his nights gazing at his favorite star. It's the greatest long-distance relationship in the world.

The musician with the violin, partners for life. Both needing one another to define themselves.

Do the flowers maintain the woman?
Does the teddy bear hold back?
Do the stars gaze back at the man?
Does the violin need the musician?

The things we love, do they love us back?

A new idea in the 'Pile of Ideas I will Probably Never Do'

I've always been a very imaginative person. Every night, I sleep to stories that I make up in my head. They're usually about love, usually tragic. I don't know what this reflects about me, lol. I've been doing this since I was very young, probably when I first watched the CH drama series "Pearl Princess." For me, it started out as a way to rewrite the story into an alternate ending that I was satisfied with. Then, I would make up sequels, each night an opportunity to add to story. Then, I started to make up stories from scratch. I would dream of stories too, and maybe two times, woke up wanting to cry. I must be a drama queen of some sort. Because of my 'obsession' with tragedy, I should probably be a writer for K-drama.

Last night, I started to jot these things down. If I have time, I might write about the whole story. It's pretty complicated. I think if I do this right, it could be a serious tear-jerker. But knowing me, it'll probably turn out to be pretty ridiculous, and still be a tear-jerker in the bad way.

This all started when I was reading Twilight. One thought stayed with me throughout the entire time I read the series: How did this become a hit? If that kind of writing could get her so far, maybe I would have the same luck. I feel bad for all the much better writers in the world; I would be so angry, lol.

The Inauguration of Barack Hussein Obama

By the time I woke up Tuesday morning, I had already missed the inauguration of President Obama, but it was just in time for his inaugural speech. You'd assume an UCLA student would be competent enough to convert EST to PST. Everyone has been emphasizing how profound this historical moment is. I went to Anthropology class today...

Prof: Yesterday was a field day for all anthropologists. As anthropologists, it is our job to record and observe the events of this historic day. What do you guys think of it?
*silence*
Prof: Did any of you watch it?
*silence*
Prof: WHAT WERE YOU GUYS DOING?!

Her eyes and hair were a little nuts when she said that. Truth is, I'm sure each of the 300 students in that room knew how important that day was, we just didn't want to respond to her because she's so annoying. I don't like how she is so blatantly bias in her political views while also lecturing about cultural diversity.

I must admit, at the poll, I was a little bit hesitant to punch in beside Barack Obama's name. I was scared to put my faith in him. I was so worried that he would disappoint us. But I placed my bets on him anyway, like many other Americans, because there was total lack of faith for the other party.

I still don't think I completely understand how important this day is. I was not there when the United States faced the possibility of breaking into two. I was not there when there were laws that separated people based on color. I was not alive there when Martin Luther King Jr. gave his speech at the National Mall. What I understand is what I read in the pages of history books and the remnants of our country's past injustices.

I can not relate to the people with tears in their eyes when Obama took the oath of office. I did not cry, but I was certainly overwhelmed. It's true that I can not emotionally relate to how millions of people felt yesterday afternoon, those who never thought they'd see the inauguration of America's first black president. But as an American, I beginning to understand a little. For me, Obama embodied how wonderful this country is. The notion of America, being the land of opportunity for all, and being able to accomplish anything.... This inauguration is a source of inspiration for many, myself including.

I really hope this election marks the beginning of a good chapter in American history, especially after the last decade. What America needs now is a great president that will be recorded in history with the great's of our past, with Kennedy, Lincoln, Washington, Roosevelt. I pray, that the accomplishments of Obama's presidency will outshine or at least on par with him being America first's African-Amercan president.

Pro-Israel Rally at Westwood

An estimated 1,600 people stood at the United States Federal building at 11000 Wilshire. Men and women were holding signs, children waved flags ferociously. It was almost another typical day in Los Angeles, with sunny skies, with a subtle breeze that stirred the air. But on the lawns of the Federal Building, the subtle breeze seemed to whip the burning passions that emitted from the mass of Palestine and Israel supporters.

It was largely a Pro-Israel rally supporting Israel's decision to launch air and artillery attacks in response to unguided missiles fired by Hamas sixteen days earlier. From a distance, I noticed the yellow tape that barricaded the Israeli supporters on one side of the building, and the Palestinian supporters on the other side. Cars and motorcycles that zipped by honked to show their support, typically with a cheer to their respective side. Pasted on street poles were large stickers with the following message: Hamas = Little Hitlers. Not so far away, I saw a man holding a sign that read: Free Palestine. Stop U.S. Funded Massacres.

I decided to speak with the Israeli supporters first, them being the overwhelming majority of the protest rally. I met a middle-aged Jewish lady, probably in her 50's and 60's. Unlike many of the people there, she did not hold up a typical protest sign, but a painting. Hanna was a painter and on the canvas was a picture of the Israeli flag, with thick blue stripes that decorated the top and bottom of the piece. Between the two stripes, Hanna painted a large heart on the canvas with the Star of David in its center, and the inner hexagon of the star nested a picture of a dove. "The heart represents our love for the world, and the dove represents us. We are people of peace," Hanna told me. She further explained, "...the whole world is screaming at Israel when Israel decided to act. We strive for peace...I love my people, we have a track record of peace. We want to live in peace in our home....The only place we want to occupy is our home." Hanna believes that Israel only wants to claim its legitimate homeland.

I was walking around the Federal Building, near the parking lot. The event was coming to an end and people were walking back to their cars. I happened to be in the middle when the two groups intersected. The LAPD on their speakers continually repeated, "Return to your cars. Please avoid unnecessary conflict." LAPD back-up and the SWAT team were probably 30 seconds away, and did not arrive quickly enough to put an early halt to the clash that occurred. An angry man in his 40's, an obvious supporter of Israel, walked straight up to the opposing group, pointed his finger, and continuously shouted, "Are you a Nazi?! Are you a Nazi?!" A young boy, probably in his early teens stepped forward and exchanged words with this grown man. Waving the flag of Palestine in his right hand, and his left middle finger to the man, he yelled, "Fuck you! Bitch! Fuck you!" The man responded by spitting directly at the ground in front of him, a symbol of contempt. Cultural differences are learned, and with the enculturation of this young boy, it seems that ethnic strife had also been passed on to him from previous generations.

For about 15 minutes, the crowd at the parking lot grew larger, and so did the chaos that entailed. The SWAT team and the LAPD were trying to keep the two groups apart, but the people were restless with an anger that could not yet be quenched. The supporters of Israel chanted, "Terrorist! Terrorist! Terrorist!" I maneuvered myself to the side of the Palestinian supporters, and sure enough, they too were chanting, "Terrorist! Terrorist! Terrorist!" At the center of the chaos were mainly middle-aged men of both sides.

Both nationalities, the Israelis and the Palestinians are claiming the same land as "rightfully theirs." I spoke with an older man who exhibited his support for Palestine more "passionately" than many others through his actions. He continually waved the flag of Palestine and was frequently observed to participate in many verbal quarrels and exchanges of verbal abuse with counterparts that stood on the side of Israel. This man was not a Palestinian, but a Muslim from Morocco. He explained to me, "This is self-defense. Look at history, history does not lie. In 1948, there were only 2% Jews in Palestine. Now?...The Jewish people control everything." Aasia Rehman, a Palestinian-American, current UCLA graduate student and originally from Michigan, agreed. Her parents immigrated to the United States from Palestine. She told me, "The Palestinian people are oppressed by the Israeli government. They want to get rid of the Palestinians. The Israeli government are controlling the border. We want freedom...free access to food and water." Both the Moroccan man and Rehman agreed that Hamas are "not terrorists, but freedom fighters."

However, according to Benard Nichos, this was not the case. Nichos, a man in his 70's, wearing a cap with the flag of Israel on it and a shirt with the American flag, told me, "the Arabs buy up everything" and that the Palestinians "celebrate when their children are killed. It's propaganda." Then, a man in his 40's, who served in the Israeli army earlier in his life decided to join the conversation. He said, "Everyone is human. Israel came in, took homes What is war? It's all about 'Me! Me! Seizing land!', that's why the Palestinians are angry." He continued and said firmly, "This land belongs to everyone." But Nichos responds, "Hell no! God promised this land to Abraham!" The other man looks at him, shakes his head, and points at Nichos, "This is what's wrong with Israel."

The protest rally demonstrated the ongoing conflict between the Israelis and the Palestinians, both nationalities claiming the same geographical region as their homeland. Most participants of the rally hold strong nationalist sentiments. The ethnic conflict has caused civilian casualties on both sides. They wave their flags relentlessly, displaying their love for their nationality and fighting for what they believe is their nationality's legitimate rights.