Run the world (Girls)!

Here's a post I wrote for What's New Indonesia:

Have we overused Beyoncé’s song the past few years when talking about and creating campaigns for International Women’s Day? What other options can you think of? The late Aretha Franklin’s “Respect”? Or Bob Marley’s “No woman, no Cry” that has been misunderstood as Sir Nesta meaning without women, there will be no more sorrow?

Songs or no songs, we take pride in this special day that is celebrated in many countries around the world.

International Women’s Day first emerged from the activities of labour movements at the turn of the twentieth century in North America and across Europe. It is a day when women are recognized for their role, work and achievements regardless of ethnic, national, cultural, economic or political differences. The month of March itself is recognised as Women’s History Month in the USA.

Here in Bali, Indonesia, we too have been celebrating this estrogenous day. Hotels organise activities to voice the objective of the day; from holding leadership seminars, to fun workshops ending with a spa treatment. Other companies treat their female employees with special perks like a movie day out. Social media has been raving about the topic, connecting communities to support each other’s work in facilitating women’s success. The #WomensDay hashtag goes viral every year and the annual campaign theme continues in popularity throughout the year.

But it’s not just about creating trending based content.

• The annual International Women’s Day campaign provides a year-long point of reference and direction for women, offering a framework for uniting global activities aimed at improving gender parity.
• If we look closer it is also about women realising their true power, and raising the bar higher for themselves. It is a moment to talk to our daughters so they know they can become astronauts, play soccer, and that it is not weird to like both dance and karate lessons.
• It is an opportunity to seek out ways to help sister women, and children, who may not be as exposed as we are, when it comes to education, healthcare access, or career options. It is a day to also be thankful for the sister women before us who fought a likely harder battle so women can now vote, become president, run a marathon, or simply write this editorial and feel all giddy about all the future possibilities for our daughters.
• Most important: So that all the time and effort we put into this annual occasion be a part of our natural daily routine and activities.
• About staying true to ourselves, and simply… just.be.kind

Moderating for Celebrating Women Event at Westin Nusa Dua

Overhyped, or not – Beyoncé, Aretha Franklin, and Bob Marley’s melodies – we pledge to still be talking about the phrase “Independent Woman” until it becomes as absurd as “Independent Man”.

It is no coincidence that the word feminism is still the most looked up word over the past year.

PS: At time of writing, all the aforementioned songs were booming in this writer’s office.

Janji Pertemuan dengan Dosa

Mungkin sejenak saja akan aku luangkan

waktu untuk bersapa denganmu malam ini

Di tengah keramaian atau di pucuk sepi yang gamang

Mungkin hanya jentikkan jari saja

Yang akan melegalisir perjanjian kita

Mungkin lembaran kertas yang sering membuat mata hijau itu

akan sekali lagi menganggukan kepalaku

Lalu kau akan bergerak lebih cepat

mengancingkan kemeja setelah terlebih dahulu memutar kedua bola mata

mencari-cari celana yang entah kenapa mendadak berkelana di bawah ranjang sana

Kau pikir alasanku cuma satu

lambung ini terlalu sering mengilangi perih dan asam

Atau aku hanya sekedar rindu hidup dengan harta yang gemilang

Padahal dari setiap janji pertemuan dengan dosa yang kita tepati

aku bukan hanya mendambakan peluk dan keringat

yang pasti akan kita hasilkan...

Bukan hanya itu

Supaya kau tahu,

Aku mulai melengos cemburu kalau kau bicara di telepon dengan orang-orang yang memang ada dalam kehidupanmu

Aku hanya diam, pura-pura sibuk menghitung uang

Padahal telingaku sibuk menguping pembicaraan

Supaya kau tahu,

Aku mulai ingin kau tetap ada disini sampai timur menampilkan matahari

Bukan hanya karena aku sudah hapal dengan makan malam kesukaanmu

Tapi karena aku mulai membayangkan seperti apa wajahmu di pagi hari

Jadi, buatku ini bukan lagi bisnis semata

Karena aku telah melanggar peraturannya yang paling utama

Walau aku tau aku akan tak bisa mencintaimu dalam kenyataan

Aku punya lebih dari sekedar cerita tentang pendosa

Percayalah

(2009)

Cut Here

Here's a confession. 
I have made two play lists the last five years of my life and they are:

1. Songs I want to play on my wedding day

2. Songs I want people to play on my funeral

The first list is kind of basic and the second one is downright creepy?

I have been keeping that secret until earlier this month, a good friend and I talked about mental illness and how Mental Health Day allows to raise awareness of mental health issues around the world and mobilizing efforts in support of mental health.  Or simply, to make discussing it a normal thing to do.

"It's real." my friend told me. And I nodded.

It was quite a heavy conversation, and two of us agreed on a few things that shall not be written here. I dove into the conversation talking more about mortality, and how I, too, have visioned my own memorial day. It did not shock her when I said I have made my "Songs I want people to play on my funeral." (she's made her own!), so I went on telling her some of the songs I like. Maybe you want to have a look to.

So, some tunes on my wedding songs list are: 
Be my Baby (The Ronettes), Here comes the sun (The Beatles), God only Knows (The Beach Boys), Fool for love (Lord Huron),  If I fell (the Beatles), Wouldn't it be nice (The Beach Boys).

On a less happier day: Beautiful (India Arie), Iris (Goo goo Dolls), Just Breathe (Pearl Jam), Change the world (Eric Clapton), Love of my life (Queen), Cut Here (The Cure).

There, I said it. 

Well, almost all of it.

New Career Path. The Ups and Downs

A study in 2008 found that 80% of people over 45 years old consider changing careers, but only 6% actually take the leap.

I was "only" 36 when I had that stinging urge and I took that shaky leap just earlier this year, after around a two year long contemplation.

Now, entering my six months' leading a small communications agency that I've co-founded, I am only starting accept these adjustments below:

• I can no longer afford my monthly fancy manicures. Well, I can. But since the company's revenue is not "there" yet, I do not feel like I have the right to enjoy what I am making at the moment
• Business owners advised me to "Give it a year or two." when it comes to feel a bit more secure. Like, you'll sleep better, the money starts to come in smoothly. At first, I was like "Whoa that is a long time." Bu, actually, no. My business model is quite unique and can actually be considered safe. I did not have to put a huge capital. So a year should be fine. I do not mind the wait. The sleepless nights on the other hand... Eugh
• Extra time? Not really. I promised my friends that I will be able to hang out with them more. But look at me now. I just cannot stand the idea of not using certain hours of the day not trying to make money. Because, every second counts. Also, I have one employee. Yes, that is enough for you to feel the kick on your ass every morning
• Every six months, I would usually do a spring cleaning on my closet. Any piece I no longer like, I will gladly give to colleagues, cousins, or anyone. Now? My next spring cleaning is in three weeks and I am thinking of tagging those pieces with a price. It sounds horrible to me... But, well, I also love buying second-handed items. So why not?

But it's not always hard and annoying and or budget related. There are so many things that I am so thankful of:

• Marilyn's condition is deteriorating.  Last June, her last seizure was so rough it took her six hours to recover fully. It is hard to not worry about money (her medicines, lab tests, therapy, neurologist), but if I am given the options to go back to my day time job or to work harder with this new start up while having the freedom to take care of my baby, I know I will never second guess my path today
• I have the liberty to decide on who do I want to work with. Or not. This is a bit tricky tho, because at the back of my mind I always want to say YES to every single opportunity that comes my way. But turns out, I cannot. Why? Because time suddenly valued way higher than it used to be. And values are timed more for me these days. One example here: I have a skeptical views on overpriced charity dinner, so when an organizer seeks for a possibility for me to work on their campaign, I refrain myself from taking the opportunity. How to sell something you do not believe in? Or, when an owner of some fancy establishments in Bali showed up two hour late on our first meeting, why would I even bat an eye for the next one?
• I feel much more empowered. Representing your own label somehow gives you this enthralling feeling you never thought you have. My past working experience are amazing and I am glad that the corporate discipline I gained is really helping me to stay on my new ground
• My horizons are changing. I am meeting people from different industries and with different background. Most of them making me feel like I have not learned enough. And that... is a good feeling to have
• Fun facts: I cannot get any work done before I put my red lipstick on. Haha!

Via Pinterest

Lingkar Liyan

Ada banyak asa yang masih percaya bahwa Indonesia terlalu indah untuk dibiarkan terusik oleh radikalisme.
Ada banyak yang bertalenta, dan mau membuktikan bahwa kejahatan yang terorganisir, akan bisa dikalahkan oleh kebaikan yang dipersatukan.

Kami, sebagian kecil dari asa-asa tersebut.
Tunggu cerita dan kegiatan kami selanjutnya ya!

Lingkar Liyan

Who Someone Really Is

Kindness, baby. Kindness.

By Marie Andrew

Rahasia Parlin

Namanya Parlin. Salah satu nama yang cukup umum dari orang kami. Suku Batak. Usia Parlin tak berpaut jauh dariku, mungkin hanya tiga tahun.  Parlin lebih tua. Bapak si Parlin adalah abang dari bapakku. Bapaktua dan Maktua, itu sapaanku pada orangtua Parlin yang sudah meninggal waktu aku masih kecil sekali, kata Bapak. Jadi, Parlin anak yatim piatu.

Sejak orangtuanya meninggal itulah, sebagai cucu pertama, dan pertama yang bernasib yatim piatu di usia kecil, maka Parlin diboyong oleh Ompung kami untuk tinggal dirumah mereka yang besar. Ompung itu nenek dan kakek.

Pertama kali aku melihat Parlin, dia sedang sibuk menguliti tebu dari kebun Ompung. Deretan gigi kuning dari senyuman Parlin yang lebih menyerupai seringai menyambutku. Parlin berkulit gelap mengilat, dia termasuk pendek kalau di ukurkan di keluarga Bapak yang para lelakinya mewarisi tubuh tinggi tegap berdada lebar. Cukup satu jam aku canggung, selebihnya Ibuku sudah kelabakkan karena aku sudah berkeliaran di kebun Ompung bersama Parlin tanpa alas kaki. 

 ##

Walau anak kampung, Parlin pandai berbahasa Indonesia. Aku diajarinya beberapa kalimat bahasa Batak yang masih membuat lidahku ngilu. Aku melongo saat Parlin mengajakku melihat kandang ternak Ompung, dan melihatnya mengaduk makanan ternak dalam ember besar. Mata Parlin membulat saat kutunjukkan majalah dan buku anak-anak yang kubawa dari kota dan uang yang aku simpan di dompet- yang kujanjikan akan kita belanjakan mie gomak bersama. Masakan mie yang terkenal di kampung. Karena aku tahu kunjungan kami ke kampung tidak akan terlalu lama, kupaksa Parlin berjanji untuk menemaniku setiap hari. Kepala nyaris gundulnya manggut-manggut saja saat itu tapi Parlin lebih sering menghilang. Mungkin dia bosan denganku. Atau dia takut dimandikan lagi oleh Ibuku.

Kaki Parlin lebih sering bertelanjang wujud di kebun, hitam dia jadinya. Ibuku gemas, jadi dimandikannya Parlin dalam bak berbuih sabun, dan digosoknya kaki Parlin kuat-kuat dengan batu apung. Jeritan Parlin sampai dibilang Ompung bisa membangunkan ternak babi yang tidur lelap. Mataku berkaca-kaca karena tak sampai hati melihat Parlin menangis. Tapi saat aku berniat protes pada Ibu, kulihat Ibu menyelipkan uang ke tangan Parlin dan mengelus kepala gundulnya “Nah sudah cakap kau, pergi jajan sana”.

Parlin berkelebat seperti kilat. Lupa padaku. Sampai tengah malam baru kembali dengan kening berdarah karena ditimpuk batu saat berkelahi. Uangnya hilang. Katanya.

##

“Bagaimana bisa hilang?!” hardik Ompung keras. Giginya yang merah habis mengunyah sirih berkilatan dibawah lampu sorot kuning. “Jatuh kurasa.” Jawab Parlin sekenanya.

Aku berusaha mengikutinya ke bilik kecil tempat Parlin tidur. Tapi matanya mendelik gusar “Jangan bilang sama Inanguda!” Inanguda itu sapaannya pada Ibuku. “Tapi kau harus diobati, Parlin.” Aku terbata.

Parlin meringis nyeri, sambil meraih sebuah buku tulis, menuliskan sesuatu di lembarannya yang lusuh. Aku menjulurkan kepala sehingga bisa melihat, yang Parlin tulis adalah angka-angka.

“Ini buku tabunganku.” jelasnya berbisik.

Aku hanya menganggukan kepala tanpa mengerti. “Kau ke Bank?”

“Bukan…”. Parlin menoleh,menatapku tajam. “Kau bisa jaga rahasia?”

Aku mengangguk cepat takut Parlin keburu berubah pikiran.

“Ada Amang di kampung sebelah. Kusimpan uangku disana. Kalau sudah tamat SMA nanti bisa kuambil semua katanya. “

“Buat apa?” aku ragu bertanya karena takut Parlin sadar aku sudah terlalu ikut campur. Biasanya Parlin tak banyak bicara seperti ini.

“Cari Bapakku.” Mata hitamnya mengarah ke jendela. Ia menguap lebar-lebar.

“Bapakmu sudah meninggal Par…”

“Sama Tuhan sekarang?” potongnya sengit.

Aku diam. Tiba-tiba takut.

“Bapakku itu orang jahat. Mamak dipukuli terus dulu sampai meninggal.”

Suara Parlin tenang. Tapi aku bergidik.

“Kalaupun Bapak sudah mati, mana mungkin Tuhan mau ambil dia.” lanjutnya lirih. Tapi lebih seperti bicara pada diri sendiri.

Kudengar langkah kaki Ibu mendekat. Tanpa sempat menyapa, kepala Parlin diraihnya. Diobati dengan cekatan, sambil menahan tangis. Ibuku yang menahan tangis. Bukan Parlin. Si birong itu diam saja. Tak melawan. Ibu juga tak bertanya apa-apa.

Dari sudut mata aku melirik Ibu menggigit bibir bawahnya. Jelas dia sudah mendengarkan percakapan kami. “Aku tidur ya…” pamitku pada keduanya.

##

Sepekan kemudian, kami bertolak kembali ke kota. Aku belum sempat mentraktir Parlin makan mie. Maka kuhampiri dia sebelum pergi. “Ini ada tujuh puluh ribu.” kataku sambil menyodorkan lembaran uang. “Buat kau simpan nanti untuk ongkos mencari Bapakmu.”

Parlin tertawa. Tawanya kali ini seperti orang dewasa. “Makasih ya. Sampai kemarin, uangku sudah terkumpul tiga ratus ribu! Biar cepat banyak kusimpan, cepat kudapat Bapak. Lalu mati dia kubikin!”

Lantai yang dingin dibawah kakiku terasa lebih dingin. Tapi bibirku terkatup kaku. Berharap Parlin hanya bergurau.

“Jangan begitu Parlin… nanti tak jadi berkat uangmu” bisikku hampir menangis tanpa benar-benar memahami. Aku hanya meniru perkataan Bapak yang sempat kudengar dulu.

Parlin terdiam. Matanya yang baik dan lembut seperti bersedih. Tapi dia membisu, menatapi uang tujuh puluh ribu dariku penuh penghayatan.

##

Setahun berlalu. Suatu petang Ompung memberi kabar. Parlin ditemukan tewas didekat kandang babi. Lehernya ditebas senjata tajam. Amang kampung sebelah pelakunya, dan dia langsung ditangkap polisi. Katanya Parlin berusaha merampoknya. Mengambil uang dari laci lemari kamarnya.

“Berapa uang yang mau diambil Parlin Bu?” tanyaku. Ibu baru terdiam dari raungan sedihnya. Dan dari sesalnya mengapa tak diajaknya saja anak baik hati itu ke kota.

“Tiga ratus tujuh puluh ribu…Oh Parlin...” Jawab Ibu disela isak.

Sayup-sayup kudengar Bapak melanjutkan pembicaraan dengan Ompung lewat telepon. Merencanakan pemakaman Parlin, dan kapan harus memberi tahu Bapak Parlin mengenai ketragisan ini.

Aku membayangkan mata jelaga Parlin.

Membayangkan mie gomak yang tak sempat kita santap. Mengenang senyumannya yang seperti seringai. 
Mengingat rahasia Parlin yang akan kusimpan baik-baik walau mungkin Ibu sudah tahu.

Tiga ratus tujuh puluh ribu…

###

Photo hanya ilustrasi tambahan. Milik Sahabatnesia.