Chinese New Year
Princess Tessyee, Princess Cowgirl, Prince Im On A Diet, Knight Grey
[In Bundung. Photo Credit: Prince Charming (not in picture)]
Snort.
Yeah pig. The Year of the Pig.
No reunion dinner. Ouch, that hurts. No trays of sinful cookies and savoury snacks. Ouch, that really hurts. Now, what do you call a road-trip with a Prince Charming, his best friend Prince I'm On a Diet and his girlfriend, Princess Tessyee during the Chinese New Year holiday?
A raucous mix of fun, rancid vomit, sexy games and one red-bull charged driver.
Bandung! A two hours plus plus plus drive from Jakarta was the locale for the escapade. Armed with chips, wine and sheer glee, the four of us departed on our road-trip. I was an excited bunny! This was perfect! A trip with the royal family without a plan. We were just going! Just doing it! A last minute trip put together by Prince Charming!
Prince Charming fared well as the assigned driver. It must have been difficult for him trying to concerntrate admist the din of off-key singing, a dizzy selection of songs which were not to his liking, silly jokes and enthusiastic navigation instructions from his better half, Prince I'm on a Diet. I was nicely comfortable in the back seat with Princess Tessyee, nibbling on chocolates and seeking out the scenery on the way.
Princess Tessyee's connections with all and sundry landed us at a house. A double storeyed contraption that was simply, a blast from the past. 1980s to be precise. Words will not do it justice. What would a road-trip be if we were in a less worthy abode? THIS, was old-school. There were even novels straight out from the 1960s, nicely arranged in the living room for our humble presence. Authentic!
Although it was already close to midnight, we decided to drive around Bandung at night to check out the scene. The rest of this post will be rather blurry. The reason being, yours truly, decided to showcase the very much less glamorous side of being me. The wine and the rancid vomit: All Mine. Caught up with the delight and excitement of being at the peak of Bandung and surrounded with the rather chilly air must have dulled my senses. Bring on the wine, the laughter and the defacto "I`m only a
bit tipsy....".
Wine, coupled with a twisting road downhill was a truly divine experience. Do note that my accquaintance with Prince Charming and his royal family is barely a month old. Prince Charming had to contend with driving his car and keeping his hand on a rather juvenile passenger puking her guts out. But well, it was going to happen sooner or later. Prince Charming will eventually realise that I am a ridiculously nonsensical being who is fond of klutzy mannerisms. (Last night, Prince Charming asked me to shift from the back seat to the passenger seat of his car. What did I do? I threw my shoes to the front, and very very very vulgarly climbed, crawled and contorted into the passenger seat. Only to have him say "That is the first time anyone ever did that in my car.". EEKS.)
We started the following day in Bandung with a breakfast of Pringle potato chips, senbei and plain water before we finally got our act together to shower and drive to a restaurant for lunch. Shopping and going about the streets of Bandung made up the rest of the day before we started on the road trip back to Jakarta.
We decided to make a pit-stop at Prince Charming's hometown to have dinner with his parents to commemorate Chinese New Year before making our final thrust back to Jakarta. Playing silly word games that consisted of thinly veiled sexy talk that made up the return leg of the road trip was a laugh. The passengers were drifting in and out of consciousness, a result of the measly hours of sleep, while Prince Charming was making a feeble attempt at staying awake with the help of Red Bull.
I am in recovery mode now. Time to sober up before Wednesday! It has been an eventful week. An almost disastrous pre-emptive motion, the comical encounter in the lift, a cheerful phonecall from the Tans in Singapore, Mummy's well timed advice, February 14th, the road trip...
Valentine's Day Report
The Streetside Eatery
Valentine's Day came and went. I am rather late with this post about the inaugural February 14th 2007 in Jakarta, and on hindsight, it is starting to feel like a good thing. Else the post would be nothing more than a smorgasboard of gushing and cynical ramblings about love and life.
I had an invitation for dinner on that mid week Wednesday that coincided with that red cocoa day. It was entirely up to my imagination if I wanted to regard the dinner as a testimony of the importance of the day. I could also choose to ignore any implicit or explicit innuendos, chillout and just go along for a mid week hiatus from my rudimentary cooking abilities.
The morning of Wednesday was spent wondering if he would say anything about dinner. Perhaps he forgot? Perhaps he would decide to make my life a bit simpler and tell me where we are going so that I would know what to wear. A casual remark perhaps? All that came my way, was a cursory "I`ll come by at 6:30pm.". Certainly more than I could ask for. Right.
Time always seems to stall when one is in a state of anticipation. For my case, I was thinking about my best laid plans for the 'overdressed' or 'underdressed' scenario. Imagine the embarassement if I overdressed for a casual friendly dinner. Imagine the dread if I underdressed for a romantic dinner. The pendulum can swing both ways and I was in a rather tight spot. In the end, I decided after a process of elimination to deck myself in a casual dress that, in my humble opinion, steered cleared of being dressy, and was an intended reflection of how I would approach the dinner.
He came by, I peeked into the pinhole. Great, he is dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. So far so good! Spell c-a-s-u-a-l. Spell r-e-l-i-e-f. The female intuition was right for once (especially for my rather lost-in-the-woods sense of the male perspective. aka: mixed signals).
I thought we would proceed to the basement to get his car, instead, we walked out of the apartment and I was starting to feel a tad bit unsure because we were just walking and not hailing a taxi. Walking along the streets of Jakarta at night aimlessly is not something people do.
Bajij. Indonesia's answer to Bangkok's infamous tuk-tuk. The world's answer to lung clogging smog. Our night's answer to transportation. We stopped by a bajij and he decided to formally introduce me to the chauffeur of the night. The bajij driver. You see, he decided to book a limousine for the night. I was starting to break into a little grin, he remembered that I wanted to have a thrill-ride on a bajij. We hopped on and I started to break into giggles. This was starting to be fun!
The 'restaurant' of choice was a street stall. A hole in the wall. A truly authentic Indonesian eatery with stray cats, flies and a rural interior. I wiped perspiration from my brow with delight! It was not turning out the way I thought it would be, this is the subversive reply to February 14th. With an air of nonchalance, he decided to deride all notions of what should be, and opted instead for a road less-ordinary.
Life is full of 'moments'. A moment I had, when I tucked into ikan bakar, kang kung and cumi with careless abandon. We laughed, we had fun and I had my moment.
Prince Charming digging in!
Sometimes a seemingly ordinary day can turn out to be a life changing moment. Sometimes an action can reap consequences that might sting for a long time. Sometimes a decision can open up a can of worms that was otherwise left forgotten.
Life is always filled with 'moments'. There was a moment, at least there was one for me.
I hope you had your moment too.
Valentine Day`s Musing
Birthdays are worth celebrating. Christmas and wedding anniversaries fall under the same category too. Now what about Valentine's Day?
The day looms omnimously ahead, the day of reckoning. Will you fall into the trap of Hallmark-ing coupledom? Will the threefold prices of flowers and candle light dinners trap the men into parting with their dollars in a bid to stave off a doomsday with their lovers? How will your love be measured this Valentine's Day?
I have always wondered what it is about Valentine's Day. February 14th, please stand up.
My fondest Valentine's Day memory, circa 1999. Not too long ago, when the then boyfriend and I decided to go against convention and not celebrate the day. We spent the night of Valentine's having dinner at our regular eating place with our friends with careless abandon. No roses, no fancy dinner, no presents. It was unadulterated casual fun. No pressure to buy presents, no pressure to find the right outfit to wear to a restaurant with other couples as dinner companions, awkwardly aware that they are proclaiming their love to the world.
I am a love cynic. I am skeptical when presents like watches and jewellery come my way, too fast too soon. I abhore roses (No thanks to an ex-boyfriend whose mother owns a florist. Too much of a good thing?). I can not understand why dinner at a rowdy restaurant is deemed inappropriate on February 14th. Come on! Give the dim-sum places a break, little morsels of food with waitresses hollering their wares is rocking good fun.
This Valentine's Day, I am going to be one happy lady. I do not have to gawk at couples exchanging gifts at the train stations, I will not be asked the umpteen time if I want to buy roses by the entrepreneurial peddlers on the street, I will not feel foolish buying chocolates at the supermarket for myself and I will not have to justify my lack of love for this love festival.
That said, I guess I have always thought that Valentine's Day is, everyday. When Mummy kisses Papa, when Papa holds Mummy's hand wherever they go and hugs her with the ardour of a leading man. Papa is not romantic, at least not in the way men are supposed to be these days. He does not buy her flowers, instead he never fails to call to ask if she has eaten or buys her favourites cakes and pastries on his way home. He does not serenade her over a candle light dinner, instead he will bring her across the island to satisfy her cravings whenever she has one. He does not buy her diamonds and branded items, instead, he buys her gold, because to him, it is more valuable.
Growing up seeing their love, it is hard for me not to wonder if it is possible to find a man like Papa and if I can be as giving and loving as Mummy.
This Valentine's Day, I hope that someday, I will find love that transcends the worldly desires, the expectations and the criteria of romance. Let's have a party and celebrate 'like'. It is simple enough. Liking a person sans drama. My cup of tea.
That said, if you need my address to send me some chocolates, it is not too late. I heard that DHL delivers to Jakarta. No need for pralines or those cheesy individually wrapped haute-couture chocolates. Plain old M&Ms with peanuts will do. For those in the know, yes, I do not like the orange-coloured ones.
More floods
I must do justice to the Great Jakarta Flood.
Frantic calls from the Tan Family, emails from friends and worried SMSes from all and sundry. I must qualify that the situation though plain catastrophic in some areas, did not really affect me to a too large degree. I finally got hold of the Straits Times today and saw the photos that instilled wide spread fear in family and friends back home in Singapore; that I might just be drowning in muddy murky waters looking for my displaced shoes while swimming to safety to rescue my dresses, skirts and the Botkier bag. Sorry to break your hearts, but my carefully honed survival swimming skills were never put to use and I stayed high and dry.
Well, dry first. Stuck in my little apartment with nothing much to do since I left my marking in school, I was left to my own devices. Between lazing in bed, working out at the gym and going for a swim in the pool (greatest irony while it is flooding), I was glued to my Book of the Week, Zadie Smith's On Beauty.
Fantastic prose and vivid descriptions of characters and places have been keeping me glued to. I almost am hoping the book does not come to an end. Dear Zadie, it has been a while since I was smitten, by a book no less. I am in love! Of susbtance indeed. Book review alert is coming up on this blog once the end is near. In contrast, I read this horrid book, Nicholas Spark's The Notebook in less than 2 hours. Plain nondescript book that does nothing for my hardened soul and cold cold heart. But, really, the story of love that lasts a lifetime has been done to death. I know, people grow old, through sickness and in health coupled with a love that is
supposed to last forever. Save the tress!
With school cancelled for a grand total of 3 days, it is finally back to work today. Classes are half filled and everyone (yours truly included) was excitedly talking about the flood.
"Miss, Miss! We miss you! Were you scared by the flood?"
"Oh! I miss all of you too!""So Miss, what did you do during the 'holiday'?
"Erm... well, I stayed at home, swam, jogged and read... nothing much really. I was kinda dry...""Wow! You are so lucky Miss! Our homes were flooded! Water level was waist-high! We are now living in hotels! Blackouts! No water!"
"Oh really? I even went to EX yesterday......"*Chorus of SCREAMS*"MISS! YOU WENT TO EX YESTERDAY?!! Enak banget! Miss we are so jealous!!!!"
*Chorus of SCREAMS*"Miss you are very naughty! Enjoying and going out when there is a flood?!"
"Erm..."**EX is an entertainment complex that is linked to a snazzy dapper mall that is located in Central Jakarta. I ventured out of the apartment to have lunch and to walk around EX with the member of the royal family, the Prince
*ahem* *cough* *tries hard not to gag* dare I say it C-H-A-R....
The Wedding
Who would have thought that I would be attending a true-blue Indonesian wedding less than a month after my arrival?
Circa 1990, when big bouffant hair, curtained gowns with lace and ribbons were in vogue and make-up was supposed to recreate a masquerade atmosphere. Sparkles and diamonds dripping off the ears and limbs of women who looked absolutely thrilled at their moment of Cinderella-esque fantasy-come-true. Eeks.
Nothing short of pomp and pagentry, an Indonesian wedding is a rehearsed gala event. Family members stride like Marilyn Monroes and James Deans down the red carpet when their names are announced by the host... I guess it is like a Singaporean wedding but the only difference is that it reeks of old-school-glam. Not a very bad thing actually since weddings have now evolved to become a "show" of romance and love. A harbinger of great things to come must be when the bride waltzed with her father on the red carpet before she was given away to the groom-in-waiting. Another waltz before they proceeded to cut the cake with a sword! The groom was in fact wearing white gloves... pray tell, WHY?
I think I should stop being a critic. What would my own wedding be like?
I will stop waxing lyrical about weddings right now.
The love-life of this blogger does not warrant any form of dreams and fantasies.
Did I mention that I want a stand-up wedding meal of wine and canapes? Chocolate fondue and sushi? Greek salad with loads of cheese? Vietnames rolls and Thai nibbles? With a four piece string quartet? Guests will actually have to dance and laughter will fill the air. A blessed event with family and friends.
And the gown.. it will be...
Nah... I am not a die-hard romantic.
Whatever will be will be.
Miss Cowgirl will continue to gallop into the sunset in search for the meaning of life, maybe not love.
The FLOOD
BANJIR
That is FLOOD in Bahasa Indonesia...
By golly, habbiedashohyodododlles...
This is the real thing. The flood experienced in Singapore last month pales in whitening comparison to the wet wet wild world Jakarta is currently experiencing.
I am still relatively dry, obviously, since I live on the 20th floor. Hold it there if you think I am not affected by the increasing water level.
Roads are rivers, normally placcid Jakartans are now avid swimmers and all hell has broken loose at supermarkets. Literally.
School was cancelled on Friday. I had an inkling about the disastrous state of affairs threatening to flood when it started to pour on Thursday. Dark clouds overwhelmed the city and a couple of teachers and myself included were discussing the probability of a flood and the higer possibility that school would be cancelled. Long weekend alert!
Hopes were not dashed!
At 5:45am, groggy me recieved a phone call with the greeting "Your dream is coming true!" from Abigail, fellow colleague and neighbour. I promptly retrieved my pyjamas from the laundry basket and went right back to sleep. Hours later and all psyched to enjoy the long weekend, reality hits.
The gym was closed, the laundry shut and the main road right outside my apartment was flooded. Damn. People were unable to get to work. Transport is almost non existent. This is a FLOOD! The queues at the supermarket were way too long and people were stocking up on gallons of water! YIKES!
SMSed Mummy and she told me that she saw the news and the flood looks bad. IT IS! Papa even cautioned me to EVACUATE if it escalates out of control! YIKES!
The extent of the flood finally hits home when I recieved SMSes from colleagues whose homes are submerged. Some suffered blackout, some had to paddle to the main road to get supplies, some had to cross rivers just to get food... This is not going to be fun. My colleagues in the know cautioned me to stock up on water, canned and fresh food to last me a few days in case I am stuck at home due to rising waters. I promptly did that this morning.
Sun please shine on Jakarta.
Latest update: School is cancelled again tomorrow. This is getting scary.
Princess Lydia
A seemingly innocuous outing gone astray.
On the outset, it seemed like a rather seemingly harmless outing with a fellow deliverant of Year 1980, who seems like a seemingly low-key person. Sans drama. That is good, especially since I am the seemingly more theatrical and hysterical one.
So, I was told that I would be brought somewhere after work. Destination was kept a secret, to have that surprise 'element'. Like opening a little present. Operative word: LITTLE.
*drum roll please*
Of high intuitive quotient, I forecasted... a museum, a gallery, or a 'place of interest' of sorts?
The National Gallery of Indonesia
It was closed. Operative word: CLOSED.
*Readers, I hope you realise while reading this that I am trying to build a CLIMAX here*
What was I to say or express? Erm... 'it`s OK'... 'we will come another time'...
And then, I became a member of the Royal Family.
*Readers, at the count of 1-2-3 say "WHAT?!"*
I hasten to add that it might be a tad difficult to understand or picture what transpired next.
He (the royal in disguised as a commoner) parked the car and had a chat with the security guards in gibberish a.k.a. Bahasa Indonesian. They conversed while I shifted from side to side to prevent those pesky mosquitoes from my legs.
What happened next was pure comedy. I could not stop laughing to save my life, going red in the face and vibrating like a vibrator. *oops*
The gallery is now open for viewing. For me, Princess BohoChic and Prince I-Have-Not-Thought-Of-A-Pseudonym-Yet.
Imagine walking around the national gallery with three security guards keeping watch.... as you stroll along the corridors... looking at works or art... pointing, admiring, staring, gazing, making oh-la-la comments of the painting on the walls. Just you, the art and the guards. I felt like the Princess of BohoChic accompanied by a knight and his guards as I made my way around. I was positively tickled, making mental notes of this 'experience' that just happened to happen.
So, it seems... a midweek jaunt for me turned out to be a royal experience.
Thank you for the memories and the laughs.
