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Setahun ini..

Setahun tidak nulis apa2 di blog ini menunjukkan betapa luar biasanya setahun ini. Sampai tidak kuasa menulisnya… Huehehehe.. Alasan saja! Eh, tapi memang benar2 ‘definitely sumthing’ kok.. Sejak desember tahun lalu saat pengumuman ujian cpns yg merubah rencana2 ke depan; yang artinya petualangan menjelajah pelosok negeri dgn senjata kuesioner dan bolpen biru akan berakhir atau lebih tepatnya sudah tidak akan saya tempuh lagi, dan petualangan ke sumbawa, mandar dan luwu timur adalah yg terakhir.
Setelah kabar pertama tadi, kemudian diketahui bahwa saya hamil. Alhamdulillah, sebenarnya sudah ada perasaan ‘rawan’ saat tahun baru di gelanggang UGM dan ngayogjazz di rumah Joko Pekik. Rasa rawan itu piye yo.. Seperti ada sesuatu yang fragile tapi pasti, yang tumbuh di dalam tubuh. Sampai akhirnya periksa di dokter (ndak berani test pack di rumah) dengan hasil positif barulah meyakinkan diri bahwa ini benar terjadi. Mual hanya 2 bulan pertama, setelahnya santai saja.
Bulan semester pertama dilalui dengan baik, mas wawan ke grobogan untuk penelitian, bapak sibuk dengan kyai kanjeng, ibu dengan KBnya. Ndak boleh pergi2 sama bapak, padahal tidak tahan di rumah, tapi demi kesehatan janin ya harus dipatuhi.

Kalau kemudian keseimbangan semesta berubah karena Bapak sedo tgl 20 Juli itu bukan berarti dunia berhenti berputar. Saat kabar datang bersama rawuhnya ibu, mbak via, bik In dan bu Wahya ke kantor bahwa bapak sedo dalam tidurnya, dengan posisi yg tak berubah, di sidoarjo untuk tugas Kyai Kanjeng, tentu saja rasanya seperti ada lubang besar menganga. Dengan pertanyaan pertama : ‘lho pak, lha pripun niki putune? Sebentar lagi lahir lho’ Tapi detik kemudian berpikir, ‘ah ya sudah iki urusane Gusti Allah, wis manut wae’ maka tenanglah saya. Toh, ini semacam bapak melanjutkan perjalanan baru dan sudah bebas dari beban2 duniawi. Meninggal kan tidak berarti ‘tidak ada’. Bapak tetap ada tapi dengan dimensi dan entitas yang belum saya tempuh. Gitu saja sih… Urusan bapak ndak ketemu putunya itu hak prerogratif Gusti Allah. Lha emang pertemuan itu harus dalam arti wujud yang wadag po? Bukankah semesta ini tercipta dengan berlapis2 dimensi? Mbok-mbok Gusti Allah mengizinkan, insyaallah bapak sudah gojegan sama danurdoro. Toh, dunia ini fana-fana saja to, ndak perlulah didramatisir… ˇ•нεнεнε ☺•ˇ
Jadi kalo ada orang yang maunya berbelasungkawa tapi dengan nada penyesalan pasti langsung saya potong dengan tegas. Piye to arek iki? Lha wong bapak yang dipundut saja dengan santai menerima dan setuju kok iki malah koyo ngene.

Oh, tentu saya kangen bapak. Segala hal tentang bapak. Tapi semua pengalaman dengan bapak itu rasanya sudah sempurna, cukup, dan tepat pada saatnya. Dari ngobrol tentang jamaah maiyah, om-om KK yang aneh lucu dan ajaib, hal-hal sehari-hari, makan siang berdua di jejamuran, ngopi berdua di starbuck, membahas buku, jalan2 di amplaz berdua, semuanya itu tidak terlupakan. Atau bahkan saat marahan, hehehehhe.. Semua manusiawi dan hidup dirayakan dengan sederhana..
Oleh karena itulah, kurang dari 2 bulan setelah bapak sedo, Danurdoro lahir. Dan nama depannya adalah Zainunnur yang artinya cahaya yang indah. Nama ini oleh mbah Nun diambil dari nama bapak ‘Zaenuri’ dengan pengkoreksian sehingga tepat secara arti dan tulisan. Afia untuk nama tengah karena ia lahir jumat. Dan Danurdoro untuk menegaskan darah Jawa, yang berarti kaya ilmu. Amiieeenn

Jadi, hidup tetap berlanjut. Petualangan baru menanti. Bismillah, semoga keseimbangan baru terbentuk dengan sebaik-baiknya. Sebagaimana semoga bapak diberi tempat yang sebaik-baiknya juga.. Insyaallah ketemu lagi ya bapakku..
Amiin ya robbal alamin..

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Ketika kami membacanya dengan sudut pandang yang berbeda..

Ketika kami membacanya dengan sudut pandang yang berbeda..

Hampir setahun ini menikah, akhirnya saya berhasil memaksa Mas Wawan -suami saya- untuk membaca novel sampai tuntas dan membahasnya. Dulu proyek ini tidak terlalu berhasil ketika saya menyodorkan ‘The Virgin Blue’ nya Tracy Chevalier. Kenapa ‘The Virgin Blue’? Soalnya novel ini begitu perempuan, romantis, ada bumbu sejarah sekaligus intuitif. Saya penasaran dengan sudut pandang Mas Wawan. Bagaimana dia menelaah karakter, bagaimana dia beradaptasi membaca novel non-Indonesia dengan gaya penulisan yang berbeda, bagaimana ia memaknainya. Tapi nampaknya novel itu tak tuntas terbaca atau kami tak sempat membahasnya.

Dan sekarang, novel yang berhasil terdedah itu adalah ‘Manjali dan Cakrabirawa’ nya Ayu Utami. Novel yang dengan girang saya beli dan lahap dalam waktu kurang dari 24 jam. Menuntaskan rindu saya pada Yuda, Parang Jati dan Marja yang sudah saya kenali dari novel induknya ‘Bilangan Fu’. Novel tebal yang saya beli 2 tahun yang lalu untuk menemani perjalanan saya ke Lampung. Memang harus selalu ada buku untuk dibaca, rasanya sepi tanpa buku yang menemani. Begitu juga ‘Manjali dan Cakrabirawa’ yang menemani saya jalan-jalan di Jakarta.

Saat kami duduk di peron menanti kereta di Stasiun Gambir –dia dari Bogor naik Pakuan Ekspres sedang saya naik kopaja dari Semanggi, kami memang sengaja mengepaskan jadwal pulang ke jogja- saya sodorkan novel itu dan membujuk untuk membacanya. Dan berhasil. Walaupun butuh waktu berhari-hari untuk menuntaskannya di sela-sela persiapan ke Solo. Alhasil, dari perbincangan via telepon, mas wawan berpendapat:

‘Alur novel ini melompat-lompat tetapi  menarik. Akan tetapi ada unsur-unsur yang sepertinya tidak terselesaikan. Seperti penggarapan dongeng Airlangga dan Calwanarang yang mengundang misteri di awal cerita tetapi tidak terbahas di akhir cerita. Akhir cerita ini juga membuat kecewa karena berujung pada misteri masa lalu Ibu Murni yang mantan Gerwani dan suaminya mantan Cakrabirawa. Kok ending nya lari ke sini? Apa hubungannya dengan Airlangga dan Calwanarang? Sedangkan premis-premis sebelumnya memperkuat gaung bahwa ada kaitannya dengan kisah Calwanarang itu. Penjelasan tentang hubungan darah mens Marja ketika menginap di halaman Candi Calwanarang dengan tudingan orang yang kesurupan tentang penodaan candi tidak memuaskan juga. Kenapa tidak diceritakan dengan gamblang bagaimana kisah cinta Marja Manjali, Sandi Yuda dan Parang Jati selanjutnya? Kontribusi aneh Haji Samadiman yang mengirim surat kepada orangtua Marja agar menamainya Manjali juga terasa janggal. Intinya, endingnya tidak sesuai yang diharapkan. Khusus untuk Parang Jati dan Marja, atas nama persahabatan Sandi Yuda dan Parang Jati, hubungan Parang Jati-Marja memang sepantasnya mentok walaupun kasih mereka sampai. Dan pepatah lama memang bilang, jangan titipkan kekasihmu pada sahabatmu. Berbahaya dan beresiko.’

Hmmm… lalu saya jawab begini, akhir cerita tiga manusia itu sudah ada di ‘Bilangan Fu’, dan novel ini adalah sempalan ‘bab’ yang tak terceritakan di ‘Bilangan Fu. Maka akhir cerita cinta segitiga ini memang mengambang.

Tapi kata Mas Wawan yang belum pernah membaca ‘Bilangan Fu’, dia tidak peduli dengan ‘Bilangan Fu’, dia membaca ‘Manjali dan Cakrabirawa’ secara tunggal, dan novel ini begitu datar di akhir cerita. Sedang saya yang sudah membaca ‘Bilangan Fu’, memaklumi akhir yang mengambang itu.

Untuk beberapa hal memang kisah Airlangga dan Calwanarang tidak tuntas di akhir cerita, baiklah saya amini. Walaupun saya menganggap kisah Airlangga dan Calwanarang beserta candi yang sedang digali ini adalah pengantar untuk cerita Gestapu berikutnya. Nampaknya memang unsur sentilan tentang prahara itu sengaja dikoyak untuk menunjukkan posisi pilihan Ayu mengenai tragedi berdarah itu. Sebagaimana Seno Gumira Ajidarma juga menjadikannya latar belakang cerita itu bersama Alena.

Untuk ketakutan Marja tentang darah mens nya yang menodai kesucian candi sudah dijelaskan Parang Jati, bahwa ketakutan itu ada dalam pikirannya yang diolah dengan logika yang timpang. Sedangkan ada banyak kemungkinan sebab dari tudingan penodaan candi itu yang gagal dilihat Marja. Saya pikir Parang Jati sudah cukup jelas menjawabnya.

Nama Manjali dari Haji Samadiman memang sengaja diangkat di akhir cerita untuk menunjukkan bahwa teka-teki ini belum berakhir. Mungkin itulah bedanya teka-teki dan misteri.

Lalu untuk Marja dan Parang Jati? Ganti saya yang kecewa dan geram. Kenapa gairah harus sublim dalam narasi? Kenapa mereka tidak bercinta? Marja merasa nyaman dan menyatu secara lembut dengan Parang Jati, ini sesuatu yang sakral bagi saya, daripada gairah yang banal dan liar bersama Sandi Yuda. Tetapi hubungan Marja dan Parang Jati mentok di persahabatan.

“Kasihan Parang Jati kalau mendapatkan Marja, dia sudah milik sahabatnya. Dia bekasnya Yuda. Parang Jati lebih pantas mendapatkan yang lebih baik.” Kata Mas Wawan.

“Lho, kalo cinta kan tidak melihat dia bekas atau tidak, kok ukurannya jadi begitu?” protes saya. Kalau Mas Wawan jadi Parang Jati apa yang akan dilakukan?

“Menjadikan Marja sebagai sahabat saja, bukan kekasih, atas nama persahabatan antar lelaki, Sandi Yuda dan Parang Jati. Dan memang sudah seharusnya begitu. Toh rasa itu sampai dengan cara dan kapasitasnya sendiri.”

Hmmm… mungkin begitu ya, ada manis yang perih, ada kesempatan dan pilihan.

Jadi, ketika Mas Wawan membaca dengan berjarak dan menempatkan karakter sebagai lakon dalam lelakon, saya justru tenggelam dalam cerita. Saya menempatkan gundahnya Marja sebagai gundahnya saya, seandainya memang ada seseorang bernama Parang Jati itu. Lalu ketika novel tuntas terbaca, gegarnya masih merajai pikiran saya, mempertanyakannya dan seolah-olah mencoba berada di dunia Marja dan Parang Jati.

Itulah kenapa sehari setelah membaca saya bergegas menuju Museum Gajah dengan berjalan kaki dari Stasiun Gambir.

-Seperti perjalanan Marja dan Parang Jati di akhir cerita; dan membayangkan di mana mereka berdua berpisah dengan Yuda yang naik bis dari Stasiun Gambir menuju RSPAD untuk menjenguk Musa Wanara.-

Cerita ini melekat di benak saya dan saya mencari jejak momentum di sudut-sudutnya. Seperti menziarahi sejarah.

Di Museum Gajah, saya sisiri arca demi arca lalu tersenyum lega ketika arca Syiwa Bhairawa di depan mata, besar menjulang. Dan mematut-menekuni makna di baliknya. Saat sudah di Jogja dengan segera saya membaca Bilangan Fu lagi secara acak, seperti ingin mengenal Parang Jati jauh lebih dalam.

Jadi, ketika mas wawan membaca novel ini sebagaimana aktor membaca naskah teater dan mencari ketidaksinambungan yang mengganggu jalan cerita dan mengkritisinya. Saya justru sedikit tidak peduli ketika alur cerita membelok ke arah yang berbeda, malah tenggelam dan seolah-olah berada di sana. -Saya dan Parang jati dalam perjalanan meniti candi-candi di Jawa timur.- Ketika Mas Wawan mengkritisi hubungan cinta segitiga dengan alasan yang masuk akal, saya malah menyayangkannya. Kenapa Marja dan Parang Jati tak bersatu?

Ketika kami membacanya dengan sudut pandang yang berbeda. Ketika Mas Wawan mengkritisi dan saya justru jatuh cinta pada Parang Jati..

 

 

p.s.: Maturnuwun untuk Vina ‘kuky’ Noor yang menemani jalan kaki di siang yang terik menuju Museum Gajah dan Mbak Mita Sari Apituley yang menjawab pertanyaan saya.

I am Home

I am Home

lonely lonesome
lonely lonesome

            Well, finally I am home after finishing a year research in Lampung, Sumatra. Fiuhh.. It was amazing but also consuming for me. To know those people, to taste their traditional cuisine, to understand their habit, to learn their languages, and the important thing is to adapt with their work time. Early in the morning the farmers have already in their rice field and in the afternoon, they tend their cows, carabaos or goats. Therefore, it is just our luck if it’s so hard to interview them. The other case is one of those six villages is inhabited with rich and busy merchants. It means we have to face another challenge to ensure them that this research is worth enough to accomplish.

 

            I’m still wondering about these people, especially those who were migrated from java island years before. They were arriving in the deep forest, in the valley of uninhabited hill and mountains, with limited accommodation and facility. With patience and hard work they cultivate the land into coffee, pepper, cocoa, clove, banana, cassava, corn, rice, vegetable farmland. Some people who have coffee plantation in the hill build a small wooden hut to take a rest during the harvest time and live once a while before the harvest time to fertilize and to weed the farmland. During June to august is the season for the farmers to cultivate their coffee bean, plucking  millions of red coffee bean with their naked hand, sundry it in a bright sunny day, and deliver the bean to the nearest market by motorcycle. Moreover, it’s so unbelievable to carry 1-1, 5 quintals coffee bean by motorcycle crossing the mountains and hill in such road condition. The wide of the winding road is just about 1 meter. Therefore, it’s honestly need an expertise to cross these winding and dangerous road. If the rain falling and make the road just like a river with red soil flowing, the bikers usually put additional chain on the back tire to keep the motorcycle running instead of the muddy road.

 

            in Kalianda,  an old bugis man lives told me, it was years ago when he

waiting for ...
waiting for ...

 was 3 months sailing on a traditional bugis ship, leaving his homeland in South Sulawesi to Kalianda, South Lampung. He said there was no compass as a navigation kit to show the right direction, they just trust the stars to guide the ship and believe to the wind blow. Now, he lives with his old wife who works as a traditional massager, while he has retired as a sailor man couple of years before. He and the other bugis people in Kalianda still keep their language, their habit and tradition and of course, their wooden house architecture.

 

            Something that amazes me is; how these transmigrants keep their tradition and culture in this new strange land? Raising their children with norms and values from their ancestors and speaking with the same dialect. Since I met so many Javanese, I speaking with ‘Kromo Javanese language’ and only the older generation who understand and speaking this ‘high’ language. Their children or grand children rarely understand this language except the ‘ngoko’ the lowest degree of Javanese language level.

 

           

pak Gito's old shoes
pak Gito's old shoes

Could it be the way to cope with insecurity? To face new challenges everyday, to adapt with new weather, to know and understand local culture, that’s why they keep their culture, norms and habit. It is kind of establishing their identity, to keep connected with their ancestors, to show who they are, to differ from the other, to strengthen the relativity and so on. Even the ghost story and folklore from their ancestors is still well narrated.

 

            It’s so typically Indonesia, when I was visiting Bandar lampung, the biggest city in Lampung where the people wearing the newest fashion, speaking in Bahasa Indonesia, where the teenagers enjoying burgers in 24 hours McD, sight seeing in mall, and doing so many busy city business things. However, just few kilometres from the Bandar lampung city we’ll meet the rural areas where the humble people living in their ordinary life. They were wearing ordinary clothes, talking in sundanese, Javanese or lampungnese, going to fishing or farming wearing rubber shoes, just like another town in Indonesia.

 

           

o holy preprinted!
o holy preprinted!

And the rest is all about the job we have to accomplish, to do the interviews, editing, cross editing, every single day except if we agree to take a day off or when we move to another villages. Honestly, it’s not as easy as we thought, repeating the same questions, visiting the same villages five times a year. The good point is they already know us, so we do not have to explain who we are, although some of them are still questioning what it is all about. Oh dear,  we have explain the purpose of this research as clear as we could and they still keep asking it every time we come to their house. Honestly, it’s very tiring. At first, I was glad to know that we will visit these villages five times a year; it means I will have the opportunity to meet the people again, to enjoy the landscape, to take good pictures again and again, enjoying the weather and so on. The truth is, boredom is just anywhere to catch me.

 

            Thanks God, we have visiting the virgin waterfall and Way Kambas

o poor tiny elephant!
o poor tiny elephant!

 during our spare time. At least it could break the boredom we have to face everyday. Believe me; riding an elephant is an exciting experience. Most of elephants in Way Kambas have their names, like Aris, Beni, Rahmi and so on. Each elephant has his or her own tamer. Usually elephants recognize who is their tamer by smelling the body odour, voice, clothes or hat. One of the tamer told me that beside elephants in Way Kambas there are so many wild elephants outside the national park. The wild elephants have more sensitivity than those which has been tamed in the national park. As we know, elephants is a very sensitive creature and do have a good memory. They will not forget anything. It is said that one of farmer proudly said that his farm would never be destructed by elephants attack. Then few days later, the elephants attack his farm and left nothing but disorder. It means the people believe if we have any arrogant thought about elephant, somehow the elephants could feel it. I know it seems impossible, but I do believe it is the universe who taking role in this situation.

 

            Picture 285Now, that entire story is turn into memory; the people, road, rice field, the blue Kalianda seashore, white sands, the misty Krakatau, the deep mountain of North Lampung, the coffee bean, and so on. Finally, it’s over, after a year journey back and forth. I do learn a lot from this journey and can’t wait for the next journey to come. But, first let’s take a deep breath and the best thing is I’m home.

 

No one is ever going everywhere until he/she is coming back home…

November is coming

November is coming

 

November is coming, and I have to go back to lampung again. I have been in Jogja for a month after finishing the first wave survey. The survey it self was conducted in 6 different regions of lampung. And we had to move from one place to another, packed our survey logistics, private properties and wondered what would happen next.

It was still in lampung, but it didn’t mean that we were easy to understand the lampungnese habit. A remote village in deep pesawaran regency had different way of agriculture system with a village in way Bungur, east lampung. So did the culture, norms, ethic and every simple thing in their everyday life.

Our first destination was in Tanjungkerta, Pesawaran regency. Pesawaran was part of South Lampung regency but now it is independent as a new region. You won’t find this village in any map, even periplus map. It was located far behind Pesawaran hill. The people were lampungnese called ‘lampung peminggir’. Houses on stilts made from wood were everywhere. The brown wooden plank in the house was always making a creaking sound every time we moved. So, don’t expecting any solitude evening when all the family gather in the living room listening to the traditional lampung-Malayan melancholy songs. But the greatest thing was they didn’t have any decent rest room. Oh, they did have a well with a water pump machine, but still.. It didn’t look like a rest room at all. So, every morning we had to go to our neighbour just to take a shower or if we were dare enough we will go to the river near the back yard.

Tanjungkerta’s people were farmers and their rice fields depended on the rain falls. So, they had to store the rice grain and used it wisely or sold it if they need cash money. Some of them also had clove, pepper, cacao or coffee plantation. But mostly, they were temporary labourers with cheap payment everyday.

From the deep side of pesawaran we moved to its coastal area. Sidodadi, Padangcermin had coastal ponds, but most of its villager lived in the hilly side near the protected forest. They lived from banana, coconut, cassava, cacao, coffee, and clove as their harvests and the sweetest thing was some of them made brown sugar palm in their yard. So, just imagining, when you were walking through the coffee and cacao plantation, enjoying the virgin fruits hanging on its branches then suddenly you were seduced with the odour of warm melted brownie sugar palm which was still stirred on the hot massive wok. It’s almost like heaven dear.

This village was inhabited with Javanese people, especially central java people like kebumen and some sundanese, one or two lampungnese family, and the coastal area you will find people from BUgis, South Sulawesi who work as fisherman. Some Javanese Buddhists were living in Sidodadi too. They built a humbly simply vihara near the protected forest. It’s so peaceful (namaste)

From coastal area we moved to the heart of Way Kanan regency. We travelled almost 6 hours by car. We could drive via ‘jalan lintas sumatra’ passed through tanjung karang-bandarjaya-terbanggibesar-kotabumi-bukit kemuning. But our first experience was we went to Way Kanan via alternative route (somewhere in pringsewu-way ratai) just because the driver didn’t have any legal certificate of the car. Ooh.. Poor us, and he drove as if we were in Need for Speed race.. *sigh*

There were two villages we had to visit. First was Taman asri in baradatu and rantau jaya in Banjit. The first village was honestly not a village at all, because located in ‘jalan lintas Sumatra’ and near to central market. So, it’s like a little town occupied with Javanese as a major and several Sumendo, Komering, Ogan people (those were name of tribes from South Sumatra who migrated to north lampung).

Most of the people worked as merchants, farmers, and labourers. I think this region didn’t have good scenery. And it was so hot there, green trees were rare, all you could see is just houses everywhere. It’s nothing special in this region, no beautiful landscape to be captured with my camera. Though, indeed we’ve met so many good people. Even though we had to accept some rejections, they were too busy or maybe too suspicious to be interviewed as a respondent. But it’s okay; it’s time to test our patience. By the way, compared with other 5 regions we have to research, Taman Asri had well educated people, under graduate and post graduate.

From Baradatu we moved to the south, to the deep hilly side of way kanan region. Actually it’s not far from Baradatu, but because it’s awfully bumpy road we had to drive and got a dizzy head until we reached the remote village.

However, it’s a lovely village. Fresh air, green tress, cows, rice field, rice mill, vegetable plants, river, wooden bridge, brown wooden houses, red soil, morning dew.

Last august was the time when the abundance of precious coffee and cacao beans were harvested, dried, stored or sold and Clove and pepper plucked in. so, if you were not standing near the street where the motorcycle gas polluting the air, you will smell the rich odour of fresh cacao, coffee, clove and pepper at once. (Not mentioning if you were close to cows or goat’s shits, which is unfortunately everywhere! So watch your step!)

Javanese were everywhere, the names of the places were in Javanese like Dusun Jogja, Sidomulyo, Badransari. And some of the people were very glad to hear that we’re from Yogyakarta. Since, they were transmigrating from Dlingo-Bantul regency to way kanan in 60’s. So almost every household had relativity with each other because for more than 40 years they were living, struggling, surviving together and of course they married to each other and became families. I found a family who just moved to Rantaujaya a week after their house in Dlingo Bantul was destructed by the May 2006 earthquake in Jogja-klaten. They built a humbly house made from wooden planks. And now the father works as a carpenter.

It is said that we were lucky to be in Rantaujaya not in Rantautemiang, the nearest village. They said rantautemiang was inhabited with sumendo people. And it’s not just because their language was difficult but also there was a rumour that everybody should be careful if drinking their water, it might have been poisoned!!!

Honestly, most of the people were rich after the harvest, especially from coffee, cacao and clove. They bought new motorcycle or car, but unfortunately they sold the vehicles during the famine season.

While we were there, some of the farmers were suffer losses because the infestation of mice in their rice field. There’s nothing left. Even for their family rice barn. So they have to be in debt to continue their life.

3 kilometres from rantaujaya was BAnjit Market, this is the place where I bought 2 kilograms of genuine Sumendo grilled coffee bean for my friends who were addicted to coffee as if it was almost like a religion for them (honestly, it’s for me too) hahaha.. And the taste was great.. I like dark bitter hot coffee and sometimes mixed it with brown sugar to taste the luxurious flavour. And I believe in Sumendo people who processed the coffee beans. They didn’t mixed the coffee with anything, just genuine coffee beans from the trees, dried, fried until certain cooked level, and grinded it. Meanwhile, as far as I know, some of the Javanese who lived in lampung, usually processed the coffee beans differently. Sometimes they added other ingredients like dried corn, ginger, rice, and some might say that they splashed some kerosene while fried the coffee beans in purpose to reach better cooked level. And it’s beyond my imagination.

So, coffee it wasn’t just about the beans but also how it’s processed. And since coffee was everywhere, each family had their own family recipe. And the taste was surprisingly so much different though

Rantaujaya, for me and my friend considered it as just like our hometown in jogja, the places, the harmony, the hill, and we felt sad while leaving this lovely region. I hope I will have the opportunity to visit the ‘Kampung Bali” near BAnjit. And I can tell some story about bali hindunese people who live there.

Again, we had to move again to the fifth region in Toto Mulyo, Way Bungur, East LAmpung. And trust me.. This village was so vast and it means we had to walk quite far to visit the households. Almost every household had 1250 m yard, so just imagine the distance between each house could broke our legs.. (lebay!!)

While we were there last September it was the peak of dry season. The well was dry. So many people had to find water in their neighbour’s well. And it was in fasting month. So, just enjoy it! (We decided not to wash our dirty clothes)

It was so hot, dry and so far to walk. The respondents were easy to meet because during the dry season they weren’t in the farms as often as in wet season. Then suddenly, in the 3rd day we were there, the rain was coming down to the dusty earth. It was so beautiful.. The odour of wet soil was in the air. Leafs, trees, roofs, roads and every single thing on earth were so fresh. Oh, Dear Lord, how can we replete our thankfulness?

The next day after the first rain, we were told that everybody went to their farms to plant corn and cassava. And the impact was.. There’s nobody at home.. We couldn’t do the interview in the morning and had to wait until the lunch break. The streets was so quiet, the houses were empty, no motorcycle on the streets. We were almost frustrated to get respondent. Hiks, since we were racing with target and time. We just want to go home as soon as possible before the Idul fitri Day and gather with our family. Yet, we were still in the 5th village, and there’s a village left to survey. Hiks

The great thing is we were living in Pak carik house (the village secretary) who plant organic rice. Every single day, we ate the organic rice and the taste was so rich and no other rice compare. Vegetables were so cheap and available. From Eggplant, spinach, kangkung, mustard greens, legume, green beans until genjer (edible riverine plant), just mention it and Pak carik’s wife will cook it for us.

In the middle of September we left Way BUngur and went to our favourite village, maja in Kalianda. Yup, we’re in Kalianda. Have you ever heard about that place? It was lovely seashore with Bugis and lampung boats or canoes, white sand beach, Blue Ocean, windy day, clear sky, Rajabasa Mountain with cacao plantation on its slopes. We live in Pak Jaro house. In Kalianda the village chief called Jaro. And the house just about 5 meter from the seashore! Just imagine, everyday we saw the blue ocean, wave, canoes, fisherman with their casting net and the horizon from the balcony. If we’re lucky enough we would see the sun set to the west and it was so religious for me.. And we have the moon, the full moon, with her golden gleam reflected by the ocean.

In May 2006, about a week before the Jogja earthquake, kalianda was also damaged by the earthquake. Fortunately there’s no tsunami. Since then, every 9 am, 3 pm and 9 pm each village had to report the situation like the wind, the wave, and all about the weather to anticipate the unpredictable condition and to organize the evacuation if there’s something happen in kalianda. Krakatau just few hours sailing by boat, it means if the gigantic mountain explodes it would damage the kalianda seashore. But a ship’s captain told me that the kalianda seashore was covered and protected with sebuku and sebesi islands from the Krakatau. And he just believes if something happen with the sunda plaque, those two islands will decrease the impact to kalianda. Amen…

The village was small and nice. The people were consisted of lampung pesisir people, bugis, and few Javanese. They were fisherman, cacao farmer, or fish merchant. Mmhh the sea wind is relaxing, but sometime you’ll sniff the dried fish smell in the air and it’s tortured me.

Would you believe that maja, kalianda is such a sacred region? The village staffs told us that the house and the big trees in front of it, the Batu Kapal beach, the Way Maja Bridge and some other places in Maja were haunted and spooky. Even the sea was also haunted with white crocodile and Nyai Roro Kidul Myth. Hohohoho

Well. In 22nd of September our duty in kalianda was accomplished. It was so sad but glad at once. We had to leave the blue sea and the rose-apple fruits which were everywhere, but we were going home, crossing the sunda strait by ferry, taking a rest in Jakarta and on the train bound for our beloved Jogja.

Sometimes, during our survey, we’re just so bored and tired. Finishing our job as good as we could, dealing with new person and new personality everyday, to behave, to taste the different kind of cooking that not always suit for us, to adapt with the bloody hot sun in Lampung. And so on. And it’s truly a journey for us. Since we’re nomad, move from one place to another place. We’re packing our properties, organize it in the bag and live as simple as we could. I still use my 80 litre DODY carrier bag which I used to climb mountains. It’s 10 years old blue carrier, yet it’s still strong and full of memories even though some might say that the design was out of date. Hehehe, no, for me it’s not out of date.. Its classic!!!

Fiuhh.. So many things to write but I just couldn’t remember, sometimes we miss our family, our hometown, our ordinary life without such a rush. Sometimes, we just so sad and sometimes we just so glad. And all we have is this moment. That’s the deepest thing I’ve learned during my journey. We’re in a rush but we have to enjoy the moment and move on

Then it’s all about the journey…

Then it’s all about the journey…

Silvi said to me, ‘life that never be reflected is life that need not to be lived.. ‘Yup.. That’s the biggest reason why I and silvi went to Solo, central java, on Friday 30 may 2008, because both of us have a deep feeling to this beautiful city. And we thought that it is better to go back to the beginning, to find the root, to find the reason, to understand what have been we decided consciously or emotionally.

So much thanks to you silvi, for made this trip happened. She is very super duper busy with her wedding preparation and new job. Yet she still had a day to accomplish this trip.

We took the 06.55 am pramex train after we were a bit late to catch the first 06.00am train. Hahaha… that’s the art of traveling, isn’t it? It could be in a hurry or no money left to spend, get sick, lost of direction or else.

But, you don’t need to worry, I already brought a solo city map, just in case of we got lost and turned like an idiot in the city. It took 45 minutes by train from Lempuyangan train station jogjakarta to Balapan Train Station Solo. Our first destination is Sahid Kusuma Hotel in Sugiyopranoto Street. I spent almost a month in this classic hotel last October-November 2007. There was training for Indonesian Family Life Survey 2007 or in Indonesia we called Sakerti means Survey Aspek Rumah Tangga Indonesia. Honestly, the training was so boring and tiring, but I met and shared great moments with new friends and old friends.
And Silvi? She had been spent a night in this hotel as a smuggler during my training. Hahaha, it was happen because we didn’t have any time to meet and we did have so many things to talk about, our life have been turning up side down at that time. So, she just flight from Meulaboh Aceh, met her family in Jogja and then went to solo to meet me. Oh.. Love you sil…
So, we’ve just sat in the bench by the pool, enjoying every corner, as if every single thing in the hotel as silent witness, ordering dark bitter Javanese coffee and a cup of strawberry-chocolate ice cream in the Gambir Sekethi restaurant, talking about all that we have been through, trying to understand the meaning, maybe we’ve already disclosure something, maybe we’ve not… it is like we tried to reveal the core.. But, life is a process isn’t it? Life is a journey.. Perhaps not of all the answers are revealed today.. Time answers, honey..

And for me.. This is the place where I met so many great persons during my training and I’ve learned so much from them.

The first and the only one is Mrs. Bondan Sikoki the numero uno lady of this survey. Hahaha, no comment, for whom who knows and have some memories of her, just tell me. She is so impressing isn’t it?

 

 

Then, my 120 roommates; vera, Yuli and Siti. Yuli is the smartest and most diligent among four of us. Siti, I shared the same bed with her. And vera? She is my best friend, we shared all those silly things together, hang out until midnight at the lobby, sang some songs poorly in the hotel bar, and of course talked about hot guys to remember.. hahaha…
My training team. The I team consisted of Nimas, Rani, Ekus, Agung, Alkaf Yahya, and Helmy Maulana. Usually, after the class finished, we were assembling at the bench by the pool or in front of Agung’s room just to finish the homework together. Because the homework was so confusing and it was better to solve it together.
Marthadinata. How are you? I met him, the father of three children, in SPKP survey training last june 2007. And it was great to meet him again. He fell in love with my poems and I do appreciate his poems (He showed his book of poems just for me). The silliest thing was, I thought that he is twenty something, but the truth is he is thirty something, he has younger look, believe me!

 

 The west java team. These west java team guys were wearing the same batik cloth in purpose, yet maybe other teams would think that this team was too weird. Hehehe…

 

 
Mas Danu, Ismail Ibrahim, Himawan Taba, Rasyid, Noa, Anjas, and else from Makassar, South Sulawesi. They were so cool, calm and confident.. (or it’s just in my imagination)

 

 

 

img_0310and my JAbar D team. my beloved Kang Jejen, who always performs his satire yet funny monologue, Amron and all the impromptu trips we have been through… (linggarjati, mount ciremay…), Wisnu; the fortuneteller, Kang fajar and his red-blue pens on his ears, Delly and ‘goyang kopyor’, Ama the ‘waslok’, ceu Vera and all the story we’ve shared together, nunung, dwi, ismiyati, and mb indra..

all of my friends that I couldn’t mention them one by one..

So… back to the future! After we have finished memorizing every corner in Sahid Kusuma Hotel, (actually, I drank 3 cups of dark coffee, and I felt great) we walked to the market to buy some batik clothes. We took some pictures of solo streets and corners. Do you think it’s a ridiculous thing to do? For we all know that solo is not far from Jogja. (About 65 km) And we weren’t in Stockholm or South Africa, but we were enjoying every second in solo. So, traveling may not be just about the great distance from home, or exotics places but maybe it is just because we fall in love to the city, it’s all about the memories, or maybe Solo is just my second hometown after Jogja.
Ok, we had to go back to Jogja before the dawn. We took the 04.16 pm pramex train in balapan station. Ups, let me tell you… For me the second romantic public place after the post office is the train station. Don’t you ever realize when the train is coming to the station, they blown their horn to greet the station and the people, and then a man with blue uniform and red hat waving to the train? Isn’t it romantics? As if like people come and go.. They are all in a hurry to do something.. Sometimes they never have any care to anything surrounds them.. This is a deep sentence which I quoted from the Sophie’s world book by jostein gaarder:

“Life is sadden and serious. We are permitted to enter this beautiful world, we meet each other, greeting and wandering together just for a while. Then we‘ll loss each other and vanished as suddenly and illogically as when we come.

Well, maybe it’s all about the journey we have to begin and to accomplish …

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