I do realise that I’ve abandoned my blog up to the point that I only get to check it a few times a month (that is provided if I still remembered!). Work’s been hectic as always, the students either bug me kill me or love me and I am always in a state of exhaustion and beyond caring by the time I get home from work.

But a few important things have happened and I can’t wait to share them with you.

First, I have acquired a new addiction slash hobby, and it’s all thanks to Toni Wahid. His crib is practically my second home now and I can safely say that Micah would feel the same way. And because he always makes sure that he poisons me with a cup of his delicious latte everytime I come to visit, thanks to him, now instant coffee tastes like some horrible shit that I refuse to call coffee. And again, thanks to him, now I know the reason why coffee shops sell coffee beans (in the past, I seriously thought people who bought coffee beans must have nothing better to do with their lives), and I also own a French press which I use religiously. Every two or three days, I would grind coffee beans and bring it to work, just so I can have my daily coffee fix, in which if I don’t, I’d get horribly cranky and fidgety.

Now you might think this is not such a big deal but coming from a girl who used to have trouble sleeping because she consumed a cup of Nescafe coffee (a cup, just the one cup!), this is a pretty big deal. I found out that specialty coffee would not prevent me from having having a good sleep. I could consume a couple of cups during the day and I’d be right as rain to sleep during the night.

The second addiction, and this is by far the most recent, it’s so fresh it’s still dewy and all; we finally have an EOS. And what I mean by ‘we’ is that Himself and I have been fascinated by our new toy, the Canon EOS 550D. Himself and I can’t seem to stop playing around with it, taking photos of things and just generally feeling smug about holding such a cool, serious-looking camera in our hands. It’s still a kit because it comes with the standard 18-55 lens (not one of those red-ringed lens!) but it’s pretty cool. Of course we’d be thinking of purchasing a much more advanced lens – soon enough!

Last but not least – I am getting married in a week.

Now; before you go, “Wh-wh-whaaaaat?!” do realise that this is simply something that Himself and I have been intending to do since three years ago. We’ve planned it a year ago, and we decided to have it done the way we’d want it to be; a nice simple outdoor ceremony that faces the beach in which our closest friends and families will attend. So after endless researches and inquiries made to different venues and hotels, we’ve chosen Ayana Spa and Resort as the most ideal place for us to get wed. We’ve emailed different hotels and Ayana by far seem to be the one who has given the best responses and tried as best as they can to cater our needs. Plus, they’ve upgraded our hotel rooms which is a pretty sweet deal!

The color theme that we’ve chosen are ivory white and yellow, which I think will look great. We’ve chosen yellow and white for the flower bouquet as well. Himself and I have got our dresses and suits ready. Mine is quirky and fun and unlike any other wedding dresses you’ve seen before, and himself looks pretty dashing in his suit I really can’t keep my hands off him!

Now that’s all for now from me – more details about the wedding will follow – I hope. Who knows, by this time next week I’d already be in paradise and having the best time of my life.

For some people, a dog is just a dog. A furry, four-legged animal that scratches around and licks its genital absentmindedly, and bark and whine for unknown reason.

But for others, a dog is a ray of sunshine. A source of happiness. A reason why we all want to rush home quickly. And a reason why we ever want to get up so early on weekends, if it weren’t for the constant whining we get for delaying their morning rituals.

Ever since I’ve had Micah, I have to admit that my life has changed completely. For better or worse, in sickness and in health. Quite literally, I’m afraid.

Dog lovers know that having a dog is not easy – it’s a lifetime commitment, as a dog can live up to twelve years or more, and during those years we must be prepared to face whatever challenges that come our ways – right from day one.

For Micah, it has been a bumpy road ever since I adopted him. He was crying all night the first time he was brought home, obviously missing his family and being scared of all the sudden, new environment he was forced to be in.

The loneliness that he had to face whenever I left him for work was not easy either. I had to put him in the back balcony upstairs and locked the door because the maid we had back then was scared of dogs. So every morning, Micah would cry and refused to be put there. He’d jump and jump in vain to see me vanished before his very eyes, until he would see me again in the afternoon.

What we humans often forget to realise is that dogs think and feel quite differently than us. When we leave them at home, they don’t know when we’re going to come back. All they know is that we’re gone, and they’re left alone. So all that whining and crying is not them being overdramatised, it’s their fear of loneliness.

Thankfully, Micah has reached and understanding that I will always come back, so every weekdays when I have to leave for work, I bid him farewell and scratch his neck and kiss the top of his forehead while telling him not to be naughty, and he just sits there and looks at me with those beautiful eyes. As I close the door, he just sits and stares at me. But the fact that he’s so understanding about it actually breaks my heart even more. I really wish I could bring him wherever I go.

There are funny moments too – moments that I really can’t explain except that perhaps, if it’s even possible, that Micah actually understands human language.

Whenever he has his toys lying around outside the bedroom, I always make sure he carries them back in. So when I head to the bedroom, I tell him to go get his toy. At first he seemed a bit confused, but not when I tell him to do so, he simply picks his toy up with his teeth, carries them all the way in to the bedroom. and drops them off once he’s inside.

When he is in my bedroom and he wants to go to the toilet, he simply goes and sits next to the door. If this still doesn’t catch my attention, he wails and cratches the door until I open it for him. Sometimes, when I’m too lazy, he can go to the toilet by himself, but most of the times he demands a company.

Then there are the strange habits. Remember how he climbs the bedside table and sleeps on it? Well, now he climbs the unused dining table downstairs by using the massaging chair that sits next to it. I noticed this when I was downstairs making something in the kitchen, when I realised that he was nowhere to be seen. I called him over and over when I noticed a brown, furry figure that had the same color as the dining table, lying comfortably on top of it. I was awed. Nobody taught him that, and I never would’ve thought of him as a dog who loved heights.

As a dachshund, I have to admit that Micah doesn’t particularly warm up to people that easily, unlike a Golden Retriever, or a Labrador. In fact, he is quite picky about them. But when he really likes someone, he will follow them around everywhere like their biggest fan. He even rolls around and taunt his belly, demanding a tummy rub from his newbest friend.

That’s what happened today, when I went over to Toni’s house. At first I was worried that he wouldn’t like it there because he is quite suspicious to new places, even more because there are no dogs there, unlike at Juinita’s house. But he fell in love with Toni and his house immediately (mostly because of the coffee smell). He was even served a special coffee made by Toni and he followed Toni around like a lovesick puppy ever since. I’ve never seen him so infatuated with a stranger that quickly before.

I was also worried that he wouldn’t be able to control his bladder, but to my surprise, Micah seemed to understand where he was supposed to go. I was worried he would go inside the house, but he actually did it at the front porch where the ground was cement-coated. I was awed once again by his cleverness.

He was also so excited to be able to explore Toni’s house and had the smell of coffee emanating from the kitchen, and because the fence was quite high and safe, he was able to sit in front of it and scare the people who walk or drive past by barking at them – something I wouldn’t let him do at home since our fence is wide enough for him to get out.

People at work think it’s funny that I care so much – perhaps even too much – about my dog. But for me, he is more than a dog. He is my son, and whenever I’m away I always think of him and wonder what he is doing at that very moment.

Humans think a dog must be so privileged to be loved and cared for by humans, but really, it is our privilege as human beings, to be able to experience the unconditional love of a dog – the love we feel everyday since morning till evening.

I talk to him when I’m lonesome like;
And I’m sure he understands.
When he looks at me so attentively,
And gently licks my hands;
Then he rubs his nose on my tailored clothes,
But I never say naught thereat.
For the good Lord knows I can buy more clothes,
But never a friend like that.

W. Dayton Wedgefarth

This post is dedicated to Elyani Gunadi and Parvita Siregar. Special thanks to Toni Wahid for the beautiful photographs of Micah.

It has come to my realisation that being a teacher is a tough job – especially when I’m assigned as the person of contact in which I have to be responsible for the students’ progress. It might all sound very academic, but as I get to know my students one by one, I become quite attached to them.

The first week is usually the toughest. The students will have to adjust themselves to the campus environment. Some have no problems in doing so, while others might feel overwhelmed. There are also those who are not confident with themselves, and they don’t have anyone to talk to, and this is where I step in.

There are those who are stubborn and sometimes they try to test me – see how far I can go until I lose my temper. This is the time when I have to be extremely patient – they are boys after all, and they don’t really know me that well yet, and neither do I. These things take time, and effort too.

I personally don’t like to be mean and strict, but most times it leaves me no option. With boys, there is a different approach. When we tell them nicely that they need to improve, they won’t listen. They’ll only do it when they see me being totally pissed off.

It kind of reminds me of Micah, in a way. Repetition works. But sometimes I worry what will happen by the time they finish the course. Who’s going to guide them? Tell them they need to improve? Encourage them and make sure they believe more in themselves?

I also wonder why I have so much faith in them. Sometimes I wonder if perhaps I’m too naive, because the students don’t think they’re good enough, therefore they don’t want to try their hardest. When exams are nearing, I can only hope that they can make it, and I keep telling them to push themselves hard up to the point when they can’t take it anymore. Because that’s the moment when they finally know that they’ve worked hard. And hard work will always reap something good.

That’s what I believe, and I hope my students believe it too. Unfortunately, only some do.

Week by week, as a teacher, it is my personal pride to see them grow. And it is my heart being broken to see some resisting to improve.

When they succeed, I feel joyful.

When they fail, I fail too.

And today, I saw both happened.

So I cry on my own, crying of my own failures. Crying because I feel useless.

Being a teacher is a tough job. But one’s gotta do it. And that person is me. So to motivate myself, I attach something nice for me to read, whenever I feel down. And I’d like to share it with you as well.

THE CREATION OF THE TEACHER

The Good Lord was creating teachers. It was His sixth day of ‘overtime’ and He knew that this was a tremendous responsibility for teachers would touch the lives of so many impressionable young children. An angel appeared to Him and said, “You are taking a long time to figure this one out.”

“Yes,” said the Lord, ” but have you read the specs on this order?”

TEACHER:

…must stand above all students, yet be on their level
… must be able to do 180 things not connected with the subject being taught
… must run on coffee, coke and leftovers,
… must communicate vital knowledge to all students daily and be right most of the time
… must have more time for others than for herself/himself
… must have a smile that can endure through pay cuts, problematic children, and worried parents
… must go on teaching when parents question every move and others are not supportive
… must have 6 pair of hands.

“Six pair of hands, ” said the angel, “that’s impossible”
“Well, ” said the Lord, ” it is not the hands that are the problem. It is the three pairs of eyes that are presenting the most difficulty!”

The angel looked incredulous, ” Three pairs of eyes…on a standard model?”

The Lord nodded His head, ” One pair can see a student for what he is and not what others have labeled him as. Another pair of eyes is in the back of the teacher’s head to see what should not be seen, but what must be known. The eyes in the front are only to look at the child as he/she ‘acts out’ in order to reflect, ” I understand and I still believe in you”,
without so much as saying a word to the child.”

“Lord, ” said the angel, ” this is a very large project and I think
you should work on it tomorrow”.

“I can’t,” said the Lord, ” for I have come very close to creating something much like Myself. I have one that comes to work when he/she is sick…..teaches a class of children that do not want to learn….has a special place in his/her heart for children who are not his/her own…..understands the struggles of those who have difficulty….never takes the students for granted…”

The angel looked closely at the model the Lord was creating.
“It is too soft-hearted, ” said the angel.

“Yes,” said the Lord, ” but also tough, You can not imagine what this teacher can endure or do, if necessary”.

“Can this teacher think?” asked the angel.

“Not only think,” said the Lord,. “but reason and compromise.”

The angel came closer to have a better look at the model and ran his finger
over the teacher’s cheek.

“Well, Lord, ” said the angel, your job looks fine but there is a leak. I told you that you were putting too much into this model.
You can not imagine the stress that will be placed upon the teacher.”

The Lord moved in closer and lifted the drop of moisture from the teacher’s cheek.
It shone and glistened in the light.

“It is not a leak,” He said, “It is a tear.”

“A tear? What is that?” asked the angel, “What is a tear for?”

The Lord replied with great thought, ” It is for the joy and pride of seeing a child accomplish even the smallest task. It is for the loneliness of children who have a hard time to fit in and it is for compassion for the feelings of their parents. It comes from the pain of not being able to reach some children and the disappointment those children feel in themselves. It comes often when a teacher has been with a class for a year and must say good-bye to those students
and get ready to welcome a new class.”

“My, ” said the angel, ” The tear thing is a great idea…You are a genius!!”
The Lord looked somber, “I didn’t put it there.”

This January, the rain has been painting my days in a wet and grimy mood. The cool air, the strong breeze, the white, muted skies and the sudden flourish of water that pours in the afternoon somehow reminds of Melbourne.

I spent six years of my life there, and I finally came back to Indonesia six years ago. And yet, sometimes I’m reminded of it in ways that I don’t think are possible.

Like the time when I drive home, when the traffic is insane and there are massive container trucks surrounding me. When I look up to the skies, I’m reminded of Melbourne in winter time. It is the same, grey sky that froze my cheeks and numbed my fingers. I remember the time when I used to take drives with my host sister in the almost empty freeway, a privilege that I don’t get to experience here, except for the odd Saturdays when we have to come in.

Like the time when I walk out of the office building to my car, and the cool breeze blows so softly through my hair, and I’m reminded of Melbourne in summer time. How the breeze in the evening felt so nice in contrast to the humid, hot air that scorched us all the way through the day. I’d always loved Melbourne’s summer evenings. Especially the short walk that I always took from the station back to home in Camberwell, where the street was quiet and the trees stood tall and shadowed the lights, making the whole atmosphere somewhat mystic and peaceful.

Like the time when I take a break from checking on the piles of the students’ homework and look out through the window to the office’s surrounding garden that is quite nice and green, and I’m reminded of Melbourne’s Botanical Garden and of the frequent sights I used to see of office workers taking their breaks there, lying around on the grass reading the newspaper and enjoying the warmth of the sun, their take-away lunches sitting not far from them.

I heart Melbourne with all its crazy four-seasons-in-one-day weather, with the hustle and bustle of the city, with the quietness of Camberwell, with the hip and happening crowds in South Yarra, with the lushness of the gardens that were scattered all over the city and the individuality of the people, with the train trips I used to take to the city and to the university, even to zone three areas where it was barren and full of suburbian houses, Blockbusters and small shopping centres with Safeways, McDonalds and Big W’s.

In this present time, I still feel that the me that I remember then is still there, but she’s not quite here. Even though back then I probably felt that I didn’t quite belonged to the way the people lived, even here, back in Indonesia, I still don’t feel like I do.

I wonder what is the place where I can truly feel like I belong.

Because deep down, I still want to go home.

I haven’t read such a good novel in a long time and I’m definitely sure this is it. Surprisingly enough, I’ve never read Dee Lestari’s previous novels, and I’m really amazed by her talent in writing because Perahu Kertas is unputdownable as it makes me laugh, cry and feel inspired.

The story itself is a simple one; a love story between a petite girl called Kugy who wants to write fables, and Keenan, a bright student with the passion to paint, and yet he is forced to leave his dreams because his father disapproves of it. They both find similarities and solace in each other because they know how it feels like to want to do something and forced to leave it behind simply because it is perceived to be too pompous and unrealistic.

What really captures me is the way Dee writes the story – it flows so easily, and the characters are strong and vivid in a way that I can relate to; Kugy’s strangeness in the way she dresses, and how she doesn’t care what people think about it, and yet it all changes when she meets Keenan. How Kugy is touched when Keenan has painted her fable’s characters beautifully that she actually cries in front of him. How Keenan misses Kugy even though he hasn’t seen her for years, because she knows him so well and so does he. How Kugy is disappointed in Keenan’s decision to stop painting which makes her feel alone and in turn makes her stop reliving her dream too.

For me, not many writers have successfuly created such a good connection between two people who love each other. Not many writers actually know the concept of soulmates and are able to put it in writing, not even Stephenie Meyers who’ve written the Twilight trilogy. Although the concept of a clumsy female human falling in love with a perfect-looking vampire is interesting, but it’s not something I can relate to. The reason that the male vampire falls in love with her because she’s the only person in which her mind he can’t read is just too shallow a reason.

Dee, on the other hand, has done it so beautifully, I feel as if I’m reading my own feelings. She knows that the concept of a soulmate exists because a person finds his or her reflection from his or her soulmate. When Kugy meets Keenan for the first time, she feels as if she’s known him for ages, despite now knowing each other at all. This is due to their  being in the same path that leads them to make the decision; to pursue or not to pursue their dreams.

In this simple love story, the readers are taught not to forget their passion and to appreciate the value of friendship and family. It also teachers the readers about love. True love doesn’t require each other the need to even ask, because it will give so willingly without being requested to do so. It will not work with second best choices, because it will only hurt each other in the end.

I highly reccommend this book to everyone of all ages who wants to be inspired and reminded about love.

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