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Friday, March 20, 2009

2008: The End

2008 is a year when I could live my live lighter than in 2007. How good you have planned on something, but at the end you would never know how it’ll end. How reasonable it is to follow your mind or other people mind, but at the end you’ll follow your heart. At least, I do now. At the end, I just hope that it is worth taking the risk of closing a door for another door. Too many 'at the end'. The point is: if you want to buy a house with a lot of doors in suburban area, find a location which has a train route :)

Happy New Year 2009! God forgive me for sometimes assuming that You’re a human mind made only.

2008: Bali


Instead of going to Borneo, I went to Bali. This time the office paid me to go there for a technical analysis training.

We stayed at Wina Holiday hotel in Kuta. I had a day off there and spend the whole day in Starbucks café in Kuta, working on the bonds market story for 2008. As expected, I was more creative on doing the writing there.

At night, I went to Uluwatu for an hour, stopped by at the airport, read a book for 1.5 hours still at the airport, got bored, then went back to the hotel.

The trainer is an old friend of mine and the other participants are dealers. When we had another opportunity to get out of Kuta, we went to Ubud looking for paintings. I bought two paintings there. While the other was searching on more paintings in Ubud traditional market, I just waited for them and continued reading Taleb’s book in a café in front of the market. So far, the book is about how you value the circumstances that do not happened or hasn't happened yet. I’d prefer drowning in Taleb’s mind than dragging myself to see the bargaining process inside the market.

2008: Borneo?

It’s December 2008 and I have my 12 day official leave by now. My friends and I bought tickets to Borneo for the end of the year. We were to go to the lake and forest. But for some reasons, we had to cancel it. My own reason was because I was deleteriously affected by the Twilight movie. The movie is about the Cullen’s family – a vegetarian vampire family. They have a habit to hunt the animal deep inside the forest when they’re hungry. It’s highly recommended for humans not to be in the forest while the vampires were hunting. It’s a very risky one since they could suck your blood till you die. Of course I won’t take that kind of risk. What if those gorgeous American/British vampires decided to stop by in Borneo forest while I was there? This is why I don’t like horror movie or even only close to it.

blood suckers in Mount Halimun-Salak National Park: Oct'08



After 5 hours on the road with a Mitsubishi Colt L-300 drived by the road racer Mr. O, we finally arrived at Mount Halimun National Park. At noon, we started a light trekking to the canopy trail and Cimacan waterfall. The National Park circling the villages and the tea plantation area belongs to PT. Nirmala.

We stayed at one of the villagers’ house: Mr. S. His family is the environmentalist by nature. The villagers work as a tea plantation employee, a farmer or a forest ranger. They even have their own made electricity from a water turbine. When the dusk falling, we played a card game as it was raining out there. I had my first bruise because of a fork during the game.

After the rain had stopped, we went to the front-end of the forest near the Cikaniki research station. The forest at night is absolutely dark, eventhough you’re using a flashlight. As our eyes got used to the darkness, we could see some green spot lights, which came from the glowing fungus among the trees. I don’t remember the fungus scientific name. Then we spend the night inside the forest trying to capture the beautiful dark view with a camera. Well, I was only looking my friends got busy with the camera and the fungus. I felt there’s something wrong on my foot: a leech was sucking my blood. Awesome! It’s my first hole due to a leech. I found the second hole as we took a rest at the research station. The sleeping time was peaceful though.

Getting up in Mr. S’s homestay was a refreshing one. We went up early in the morning to see the sunrise, but Mr. dramatic sunrise Z was still sleeping undisturbed. So we’re heading to the tea plantation area above the village with a flashlight. The road is rocky and slippery.


We’re there for about an hour. We’re climbing it and standing watching the sun rise that slowly came into sight from behind a mountain. Meanwhile the white mist was flowing following the curve of the hills under the morning sunlight, with the forest as the surroundings. As the tea plantation farmers were starting to come and a bee was also starting to feel annoyed with our presence in his territory, we went back to the homestay to have breakfast.

Our schedule today is the jungle trekking to the seven meter Cikudapaeuh waterfall. At first, we’re going to the 25 meter Cipiit waterfall, but the road is too slippery and steep that you have to use thick rope.

We started the trekking on the tea plantation area and the village. At first I thought it would be a mundane four hour trekking through the tea plantation area. But then, we turned to the left side and entered the forest. Since this is a rain forest, there’s no sound as you’re stepping on the falling leaves. It’s muddy and slippery. Often the ranger re-opened the track with his machete and boots. As we got deeper, the forest became ticker. The greenery thicker swathe forest really looks amazing from far away. And it is more amazing when you’re inside it, and absolutely not a boring one.

After a packet of steep ascent and descent, we will have to cross the clear water river to have another packet of steep ascent of descent with the river and so on for six hours to and from the Cikudapaeuh waterfall. Some of the descents and ascents have almost 90 degree slope. I really thought the ranger would take the turn road, if it exist, but he went on with the slope.

Hence, most of the jungle trekking was crawling by holding the tree roots or everything available there and your friends’ hand. Not to mention the leeches. I had 11 small bloody holes on my feet and another hole on my leg due to the leeches. It didn’t include the leeches that hadn’t had a chance to suck my blood as I already threw it away. But the rain forest itself is an exquisite one. Besides the leeches, there are bird nest with the little birds inside it, colorful wild flowers and fungus, civet dirt, Java tiger’s track, Owa Jawa (chimpanzee cousin I guess) playing high above the trees and the beautiful Cikudapaeuh waterfall inside the forest.

The ranger also taught us to eat a tree stem & leaves and drink water inside another tree stem. The trees also make canopies that hindered us from the falling water when the light raining started on our way back. I had never been so happy to see the rice field as we got out from the forest to have our very late lunch on the afternoon at the homestay.

The adventurous journey hadn’t finished yet. It was continuing on our way back to Jakarta. Z and Mr. O, the driver, decided to take another shorter route, maybe because the night was about to come. But the road is slipperier and steeper than the road where we’re coming from. Somehow, the road racer Mr. O had successfully managed the old engine to go through all the difficulties on the road.


At some points of the road, the fog and flood, from a broken dam, slowed the car down. We arrived in Jakarta at 11pm.

It was the first time I entered the forest and it took a few months for me to stop daydreaming to be there again and fully back on the reality. I really hope the area will always be protected. It’s too valuable to be destroyed for economical reason. Those villagers have proved that they could live side by side with the nature. They are rich with the fresh water flow 24 hours straight from the mountain, the fresh air, the delicious food from their backyard, the warm day and the peaceful night. If they want something more sophisticated than that, just join us in the city. Don’t disturb the forest. I just hate the leeches. Why can’t they make an exception on sucking human blood?

2008: Krakatau?

A while after I got out from the hospital, my friends said that they are to go to Krakatau, but they feel sorry that I couldn’t join them, because I am still recuperating. Fuck Krakatau!! I couldn’t get too tired physically, because there’s still a chance of bleeding. But, after a month of the hospital experience, I was ready for the next trip. It was to Mount Halimun National Park, Sukabumi.

2008: a Hospital

There were good and bad news for me from the Bali trip. The good news was I found out why I always have bad headache, which could make me cry silently, especially on a flight. One of my bosses had that kind of symptom as well and he suggested me to do a MRI test. The bad news was my boss is right: I am sick. Often, I had headache that could make me vomit at the worst time.

All these times, I thought it was because of psychological causes, not physical. So I treated it by joining a yoga class at the gym, social club in an English course, Graduate Christian Learning Center, religious service, drinking 3-4 glasses of vodka/beer/else when I’m in a club on a rare occasion, smoking and closing my eyes in office toilet and circling a green field. I was digging into myself and my surrounding, and writing it on a piece of paper and then it became poetry.

Still, I was very confused about the headache as I found there’s nothing wrong significantly in my life. I even had a plan to go to a psychologist. What a misplaced various treatments for a headache!

After the Bali trip, I had a CT-Scan and two photo roentgens for my head and lung, antibiotics and two week physiotherapy. But it didn’t work and the doctor suggested a surgery. It was a minor surgery with endoscopes technology, so the surgeon won’t do any external incision. I searched and read those medical journals about the surgery and the effects and gave all those journals to the doctor. He smiled and said: these journals are good for the doctors. Could I have the copy please?

Then, I was hospitalized for a week. The hospital experience was a new thing for me and bizarrely I felt excited about it. I’ve read the journals and got clear explanations about the risk with its possibility that could happen on a patient. But I did realized that if God wants something bad happen to me, it could happen anywhere anytime.

Generally, the idea of being dead[1] is an intriguing one. Why not? It means you have a chance to see whether the after live experience exist or not. If it is, it must be fascinating enough to explore with all the consequences. But if it’s not…shit! Why should people die then? To give space for another human being on earth.

I never hospitalized, entered a surgery room and had a general anesthesia before. Well, the surgery went well. My friends asked: Is it sick, because it seems that you suffered? No, it’s not sick, but it’s not comfortable for sure, especially the part when the nurse injected you with dozens of drugs. Moreover, the doctor gave me a local anesthesia if I were in pain.

However, there’s a horrible night that I spend by breathing through mouth. I was so sleepy but I couldn’t sleep because I could unconsciously stop breathing and got choking. The nurse said that it’s a normal process that I had to go through. The oxygen and the ability to inhale it without taking much effort are one of the very precious things that could happen in human life. I am just grateful that it was over. Up to this writing, I don’t drink and smoke again (I never like it). I also have renewed my gym membership at SC. Having a gym membership, without doing the exercise, already makes me feel healthier :)

[1] I don’t support suicidal.

Btw, it's a Functional Endoscopic Sinus Surgery (FESS) :)

2008: Bali

Once upon a time, I went to Bali on weekend that could give me the same relaxing effect from a week holiday. I arrived there on Friday midnight; spend the Saturday morning in Denpasar, the noon in Ubud, the afternoon in Uluwatu and the night in Kuta; then backed to Jakarta on Sunday noon. It was in September 2007.

I had this kind of trip again in 2008, only it was with my colleagues and arranged by a travel agent. It was my first excursion with a travel agent. You didn’t have to find hotel, food, transportation, destinations and else by yourself.

We spend a night at White Rose Hotel, Legian. Some of my friends were staying at a club until 3 am, while I took a sleep because of the headache I had again during the flight.

In the morning, we went to Lovina and stayed at Melka Hotel. My favorite time there was when we took a ride on a traditional boat in Lovina beach in the morning chasing the dolphin. But I didn’t like the dolphin chasing part. Just let them have their breakfast in peace.

On our way back to Denpasar, we watched a ceremony in Ulundanu Temple in Berantan lake. It was my first time to go the west part of Bali. It’s too bad that we didn’t go to the waterfall also. It was nice, but the tight schedule made me tired as I arrived in Jakarta. Well, I got tired because some of the destinations are crowded shopping area in Bali :)

You have to accommodate different interests when you’re having a trip with a lot of people. While the others shopped, I hang out at the nearest food stall or circled the shopping area a couple of times to kill the time. Still, it's an interesting trip.

2008: Krakatau? and a Museum



Although I don’t have any official leave again, I still try to escape from the routine on weekend. So on a bright and clear Friday morning, I went to the office with my backpack getting ready to go to Anak Krakatau at night. I was going to spend the night on the beach watching the Anak Krakatau fire works with the full moon as the background with some unknown people. I already bought new sandals, as I left my last sandals in Nepal, borrowed a sleeping bag and brought a pocket camera. All prepared. The afternoon came already without I realized it. It was few more hours to be off from the office and went for a weekend outside Jakarta. But a news thrown me to the abyss as something came up, that made me have to stay in Jakarta during the weekend. My friend suggested bringing my laptop to the beach…yeaahh great idea. So, I had to cancel the trip just like that, thus gone of those pictures and the money.
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On second thought, you don’t have to be out from Jakarta if you want to break the routine for a short moment. My friends asked me to join them to go to explore one of the museums in Kota. I joined them at noon, while they were already there since the morning. We were exploring every nook and crannies of the museum with the camera. Personally, I enjoyed walking and running through the museum hall, climbing one of its roofs and entered the unfinished part of the building. We were off from the museum at 4 pm, and then took a walk to Batavia Café. One of the pictures taken by Mr. F won the photography contest held that day. It is a picture with a beautiful black and white degradation of the museum pillars from a non black and white photograph with two of my friends walking unintentionally in the middle of it.

2008: Nepal

Voila! The flooded rainy season was over in Jakarta and May was coming, but I wasn’t still sure whether I could use my Singapore-Kathmandu ticket, which I already bought since last year, or not. Things could spin around just like that. Indonesian newspaper had made the Nepal politics turmoil as one of their news and my parents suddenly became aware on my next traveling destination. The reasonable reason that I brought up and made them change their mind was that I have to preserve my credibility. I already said to my colleague that I would go to Nepal. If I canceled the trip, she would have to cancel it also. And eventhough I make up her trip fare, my credibility will still ruin. My word is my bone applies here. Actually, I was just exaggerating the credibility things so I could go in peace.

Finally, we went to Singapore on Friday night and spend five hours in Changi airport before getting on a flight to Kathmandu. One of the passengers introduced herself to us. She’s a Singaporean who was going to travel in Nepal also along with her other three friends. The difference was they’re using a travel agent to arrange their itinerary, while we’re using Lonely Planet (my friend, SP, did the entire great itinerary). I guessed we’re going to meet them again next week on our way back to Singapore.

Day 1


We arrived in Kathmandu at 12 pm and the red brick primeval Tribhuvan International airport welcomed you as you smell the pre-monsoon weather (May isn’t a great time to visit Nepal due to the heat. But if you were from a tropical country like Indonesia, then it’s not a big deal). We stayed at Ganesh Himal Hotel, near Thamel area. Thamel itself is an interesting area where usually tourists flock there before heading to another destination in Nepal.

We’re spending our first day by strolling on dusty and hectic Thamel street, shared with other passers-by, bicyclists, rickshaws, taxis, etc. Etcetera here include the traditional market near temples. All the buildings look almost the same that I could loss direction here: souvenirs shop, restaurant, hotel/hostel, supermarket, trekking gear shop, money changer, book store. Often, I couldn’t make any difference between a regular building and a temple. I was stunned with the stark contrast between how people treat the Hindu temple here and in Bali. In Bali, the temple area is a very sacral one; while here people do their social life there, such as selling things, hanging out on Saturday afternoon, playing cricket or doing day dreaming.

We had lunch at Thakali Banchha Kitchen and joined the Nepali hang out at one of the upper terrace temples in Kathmandu durbar square on the afternoon. A boy told us that Saturday is the only public holiday in Nepal. Seeing their daily activities from above made me think about… Well, I forgot what I was thinking about at that time. From above, I could also see the rickshaw drivers waiting for the passengers.

We took rickshaw twice in Kathmandu and paid through the nose for the trip. On the first trip was because we’re stupid, didn’t realize how close the distance is, and on the second trip was because the rickshaw driver is an old, smart, humorous man with mischievous look playing with words J. We also met with a loquacious man in a travel agent who offered himself as our guide for trekking at Himalayan Mountain. He proudly said that we’ll be very lucky to have him as our guide as he assumed himself as a bonus. I was amused on his nice coaxing effort with a great confidence. Of course we said no to him, because May isn’t the right time for trekking no matter who will be the guide is. We ended the night at Roadhouse Café in Thamel eating Nepali pizza.

Day 2


We had a one hour mountain flight at 6am by Buddha Air, a more or less 18 passenger airplane. The flight takes Himalayan Mountain as the route and is closed enough for you to see its snow. Its breathtaking view made you want to jump down to the mountain slope. Of course, the airplane window fettered you to do it :) I hadn’t back home yet and I already wanted to go back here only for light trekking down there.

Then we had our breakfast at Nyatapola café inside Bhaktapur durbar square. A National Geographic photographer look alike took the photos of Nyatapola café with us having breakfast at its morning-shine shimmering upper terrace. Sauntering down the road, taking pictures of the sublime Bhaktapur durbar square, getting lost in the middle of local housing, and running under the light rain was a thrilling one.

The people live within the ancient city without making any significant changes in it. I don’t know whether it is because they really appreciate their ancestors and cultures or because they don’t have enough budget to renovate it. But, something felt missing when I couldn’t see the Nepali army presence as we’re going deeper into the local area. Due to the political instability, the army presence, both from the communist party and the royal side, are ubiquitous. They’re quite cooperative to the foreigner. Most of foreigners that we met here are American and European. We rarely met Asian, mostly will be Japanese or Korean. Despite the security concern, the ancient city of Kathmandu Valley and the dazzling Himalayan mountain could still entice foreigners to come to Nepal.

Satisfied and tired exploring Bhaktapur durbar square, we went to Patan and had our lunch at Taleju restaurant, enthralled by the view of striking Patan durbar square from its roof top. Everytime we got satiate, the valley could offer us a new interesting thing to explore. Afterward, we’re joining the crowd in Patan durbar square as there’s a parade there. All I could think was the people, their bright dresses, their expression, the ancient temples and buildings, and the whole surroundings would be a heaven for my photographic maniac colleagues in Jakarta. A little boy approached me to sell a bag, while I was watching at the parade. Knowing that I felt bothered by his presence, he stepped back voluntarily and said: I’ll come again after the parade is over. He came again with a smile after the parade was over and successfully sold the bag to me. What a great marketer as he could still appreciate the prospective buyer personal space, while still trying to sell the product!

On the afternoon, we went to meet Indonesian family acquaintances: Mr. B family and Ms. V, who live in Nepal as a doctor at Patan hospital and a worker at a NGO. Their houses are located in a quiet expatriate area in Patan. We went back to Thamel area at night and had our late dinner at Koto Japanese Restaurant. One of the waiters at Koto had reminded my friend on her high school love story. Her reminiscent made us vow to go back to Koto before leaving Nepal J

Day 3


We checked out from Ganesh Himal Hotel at 6 am since Ms. V asked us to move to her house in Patan because of the incoming strike. They called it a bandh, when vehicles stay off the street and all schools, offices and else are also closed. The expatriate community usually find it out from their children’s school teachers/principal, who get the information from the embassy. The bandh issue already abounded since last night. Ms. V had tried to contact us through the hotel receptionist, but she couldn’t reach us as we’re still hanging out in Thamel until late night.

We’re already at Ms. V house early in the morning and at noon found out that the bandh issue was only an issue. Maybe it would have been better, if we hadn’t known the band issue earlier. Just let it flow.

On the other hand while we’re spending the time in her house, Ms. V could share her seven year experience living in Nepal to us: facing frequent electricity blackout, lack of gas and water supplies, lack of gasoline, earthquake preparation, bandh, but still enjoying the experience. Indonesia has that kind of problems also, but it’s not as frequent as Nepal…far better. If those things take place in Indonesia as frequent as in Nepal, we’ll have riots and demonstration to change the government. Hey…actually the communist Maoist was taking over the Royal supremacy when we’re in Nepal. Nepal has transformed itself into a Republic from the Hindu Kingdom country. Ms. V explained the culture here. One annoying thing: the house owner even made a toilet outside the house for the Nepali guest who mostly aren’t used to splashing the water after using a toilet. But they do that because they aren’t used to having enough water, especially for the poor one.

Ms. V took us to a Mexican restaurant for lunch and then to the Jawalakhel Handicraft Centre, a former Tibetan refugee camp across the Tibetan monastery. This area is well-known for its carpet industry, but we only bought Tibetan traditional dress. It’s too bad that we didn’t have enough time to see the carpet making process there.

At night, we attended a dinner with the Indonesia ambassador for Bangladesh and the Indonesian community in Nepal in a Japanese restaurant in Kathmandu. I chose a table with Mr.H’s teenage children so I could avoid doing the well-mannered talking. I wasn’t on the mood to do that. We took a taxi to go back to Ms.V’s house in Patan and had our taxi stopped by the army at the Kathmandu-Patan border. As they saw the foreigners inside the taxi, they didn’t ask any question and only said good-night and let the taxi go. The Nepali often wrongly presumes Ms. V as a Korean, me and my friend as Chinese or Japanese…come on...

Day 4


Before 4 am, we already left Ms.V’s house to go to Nagarkot by taxi to see the sun rise over the Himalaya. My friends actually preferred Dhulikel instead of Nagarkot, but the taxi gasoline only sufficient for Nagarkot destination. This is a place where the gasoline availability often could be a constraint for your trip.

We stopped by at Himalaya Resort where we could glimpse the sun rise from its backyard. The people were busy taking the sun rise moment with their long lens camera, digital camera, or cell phone camera. The sun rise wasn’t that special. It is still the same sun rise which I could also see in Jakarta. What make it so special is when the morning sun shine highlight one of Himalayan mountain pinnacles. That view could beat the cold windy temperature that started to creep up from my toes to my head. I just took a couple shots and then standing with blank look with a cup of warm coffee flying above my head. Finally, we had our not flying cup of warm coffee at the Resort café.

Around 10 am, we went down to Bodnath, home to one of the world’s largest stupas, by the same taxi we use this morning. The taxi driver awkwardly mentioned some amount of money when we’re asking him how much it cost us. Then Ms. V scolded him with Nepali language. I didn’t understand what’s wrong. It turned out that the taxi driver gave us a very cheap fare. He didn’t count it correctly and too ashamed to ask more. So far, the people here are nice. After paying him with a more proper sum of money, we joined the Buddha Jayanti aka Vesak aka the Buddha’s birth celebration in Bodnath.

A lot of people lighted up the butter lamps along the street side. We’re not the only outsider joined the ceremony. The beggar also joined by sitting and praying that there would be people give them some money or food. A little girl beggar sang a song on a bench. Her soft alto voice could attract the passers-by to stop by, although most of the time her voice would disappear inside the crowdedness. I just watched her singing and tried hard to hear her soft voice from the backside - sitting on a closed store terrace in Bodnath area. When the traditional monks, the funky monks
[1], the ordinary people, the students who previously gave me a flower, the army and the foreigners with or without the camera walking circling the Bodnath Stupa in a clockwise direction; I sat standstill on the terrace with a flower, a camera and a backpack….waiting for my friends. Great job! I lost them and didn’t have their cellphone number! But, watching their activities quietly could soothe my mind until my friends found me out.

Then, we tried the public transportation, minibus, on the way back to Patan. It’s sucks but entertaining as long as you don’t use it more than twice. We’re wandering around at Kathmandu durbar square with my multifunctional jacket covered my head from the falling water from the sky aka it’s raining. My friend, SP, bought some boxes of tea. I bought it also and then sold it at lower price to SP at the same day. I am not good at buying some things and successfully bring it home. Usually on my way home, I will have transferred it to other people.


We stopped by in an open building/temple while waiting for the heavy rain to subside. Inside the building/temple, there are some Hindu priests, who will pray for you and tell you about your future fortune. My curiosity almost made me come to one of the priests, but the fact that after the ritual they will give you a flower mark on your forehead as a sign of the worship held me down. My priest will kick my ass as a mark, if I do that. Besides, if I didn’t misheard, the priests were speaking in Nepali. How will I understand what he’s going to say about my future?

Because of the raining, we had to call off the trip to Swayambhunath temple. We had our dinner at the Bakery café, where all the staff are deaf, and spend another night at Ms.V’s house to have another dinner.

Day 5


We had all prepared to go to Phokara, seven hour route by bus. But the plan went awry since a bandh was really happening this time. It means: vehicles stay off the street and all schools, offices and else are also closed. It was only the army, the police and some people on the main street. No vehicles allowed on the street. A man at the money changer already reminded us about this last night, but we impugned his warning. It’s because the bandh reason was absurd. But we were in a different country which has the reasonable criteria different with us back home. I could see my friend really disappointed because prior to this she had had her plan messed up because of the bandh issue.

Therefore, we spend the day doing visits from home to home in the expatriate area in Patan: Ms. V’s, Mr. B’s familiy and Mr.H’s familiy houses. I even had a one hour Nepali course with Mr & Mrs. B at Nepali course language run by Korean. The teacher, JT, is very nice and a good-looking one. He could be a potential sinetron-star in Jakarta. We had lunch at Café de Patan and the waiter opened a conversation with us, as it was our second visit to the café. The waiter is a college student who has to work there. He asked where we come from. I thing he would like to continue the conversation, but the other customers were coming. Once they’re out from the poverty, they will try to make their sibling out from it also and guide them to avoid the bad neighborhood. It is a norm for the youngster here to smoke marijuana. Even if they don’t have a job, the family will always support them to fulfill their needs. And one more thing, your mother in law here will somehow has the right to walk all over you. And one more thing, woman doesn’t show their leg here, but it’s ok if you want to show your belly. Outside there, the bandh didn’t break into a violence one. It was just a peaceful annoying bandh.

Day 6


Finally, we’re on the Golden Travel bus heading to Phokara, seven hours from Patan. The trip went smoothly as there were no army checkpoints stopping the bus. We were staying at great Castle Guest House run by a family. They even have the dinner with the family program. But we had to miss it and a lot of things because we only spend a night in Phokara because of the bandh on the previous day.

We had our late lunch at Lemon Tree, which is known for its fresh lake fish. But I ordered a spaghetti carbonara. When the menu came, I was surprised of its triple proportion compare to the spaghetti in Pizza Marzano. Then I was more surprised than before when I tasted it. The cheese is from the yak….arrrgghh. It was amusing when I kept try hard to eat it, because I was very hungry. I hadn’t eaten properly since this morning and it was on the afternoon already. I had Japanese food, Mexican food, American food and Italian food in Nepal, except Nepali food. Well, this Italian food was the closest one to the Nepali food because of the yak cheese. It was a great lunch though. Where the hell on earth I could taste yak cheese….yakkkss!!

After going through the yak cheese late lunch, we went to Sisne Rover Trekking to buy a ticket plane back to Kathmandu for tomorrow’s noon. I had the rare golden opportunity to practice my very limited Nepali language here. When I smiled to hear my own voice speaking Nepali, they’re laughing and said: It’s very weird the way you speak Nepali. Ok, let’s just speak in English.


After buying the ticket, I split with my friend. She wanted to go for an hour boating on the tranquil Phewa Tal lake, while I just wanted to meander around Phokara. We made a deal to meet again around 6 pm.

I spend the time at bookstores, supermarket and internet café, but didn’t take a lot of shots here. It’s too serene to be distracted by camera shots. The bookstore offers both used and new books from many languages: Nepali, Indian, English, French, German, Japanese, and Korean. As in India, the book is very cheap. I only bought a book from Krishnamurti. After 6 pm, my friend hadn’t showed up yet. Great, I lost my friend and didn’t have her cellphone number. Agaiiiinn?? It became a habit for me. On a circuitous way, I could contact her and said that I would wait at Busy Bee café, a random pick. The café has a not too bad live music performance. The band played a common music that other band on the other part of the world would also play. It’s great since so far I only saw a very specific cultured society. Music is absolutely a general language everywhere no matter of your background: economically, politically, culturally and other divisions that could separate other people from the others. I was waiting for my friend by enjoying the music performance, Krishnamurti’s book and a glass of whisky. She showed up at 7 pm. What’s up with the one hour boating? Btw, she doesn’t like the noisy drinking bar. I’m sorry, it’s a random pick J I like both noisy and serene surroundings.

So, what’s up with the more than one hour boating?
It became a romantic boating on the tranquil Phewa Tal lake. The rower turned on the boys band song from his cellphone under the cloudy and cold weather. The interesting part is the rower said that he’s preparing for the IELTS so he could apply for a job abroad. After he had enough money, he would go back to Nepal again to make his own business. I wish him to be successful in pursuing his aspiration.

Day 7


We went to the World Peace Pagoda in the morning taking the easiest route, by taxi. We only had to walk around 15-20 minutes after getting off the taxi. It’s a quite steep route where I could hear my heart beat harder. The other routes are from Phewa Tal lake, which will take approximately one hour walking, or from Devi’s fall.

From the World Peace Pagoda, which located on top of a hill, you could see Phewa Tal lake surrounded by the hills with the snow covered Himalayan Mountain as the background. The hills shadow appears on the unruffled lake surface as the morning sun stole a look between the clouds among the Himalayan Mountain. We were up there for about an hour and then went down to the lakeside to have breakfast at one of the restaurants there.

We still had a couple hours before the flight to go back to Kathmandu. My friend, SP, decided to go for an hour boating again, while I chose to continue reading Krishnamurti’s book at Fewa Hotel coffee shop, which located at the lakeside. From the place I sat, I could have a glance look of the lake with the boats and the World Peace Pagoda above the hill, if I get tired with the reading. There were only me and the other three customers: two American women and a local man on the coffee shop. This time I had a coffee pot, instead of a glass of whisky or a cup of coffee, to accompany my reading.

We’re finally on the Phokara airport. The airplane picked us up right in front of the inside airport terrace. I felt as if I was taking a private plane. It was the same airplane, Buddha Air, which we used for mountain flight. The stewardess was also the same.

A night was a very short time to spend in Phokara. Phokara is also known for its recruiting center of the British Gurkha soldier. I read one of the announcements of Gurkha soldier recruitment which attach on an electric pole, while waiting for the breakfast this morning at the lakeside. They are willing to defend other people country with their live as a soldier because of the financial reason: salary up to £1000/month and a lifetime pension. A column in a Nepali newspaper discussed about the irony of the Gurkha soldier: to let your people fight for other countries interest because of the financial reason. I have one common with the Gurkha: the ability to sleep while standing. The difference only the place: they could do that on the war, while I could do that on the bus/train.

We checked in again in Ganesh Himal Hotel in Thamel, Kathmandu, afterward going to Patan to say good-bye to the Indonesian family there. Back to Thamel, we had our dinner at Koto Japanese Restaurant as our promised on our second day here. Across us, there were three men from US, Russia and Spain learning each other languages while drinking J

Day 8


We had breakfast with Mr & Mrs.H before our flight back to Singapore. They were using bicycle from Patan to Kathamandu, because of the limited gasoline they had on their car. Then we went to the airport and met our Singaporean acquaintances again there. I’ll see you again Nepal! It’s also really nice to meet Ms. V, Mr. B familily and Mr. H family.

Arrived in Changi airport around 9 pm, we’re still trying to find a hotel. We got a room at South East Asia Hotel. Unfortunately, they receive nor credit card or USD, only cash in SGD. We didn’t have enough SGD. Fast walking around the area, we looked for a money changer or Citi’s ATM. Luckily, we found a money changer that still open and right after we closed the deal, they closed their office. It’s 10 pm. Yeaahh we successfully checked in at the hotel. And around midnight, we went out to Mustofa center to buy financial calculators and went to a 24 hour internet café to buy online ticket for the first flight back to Jakarta in the morning. Sunday morning flight to Jakarta is the cheapest. The passenger next to me on the flight asked: short vacation in Singapore? Yes! I replied, smiled and fell a sleep as starting from today to November 2008, I don’t have any official leave again.

[1] With the latest i-phone, Nike sandals and backpack, and the most up to date bold haircut style; but still with their modest orange robe.

2008: Bintan

I started 2008 on Altamound Road, Mumbai with my sister and went to Jakarta the next day. We were the last passengers that got into the plane. I fell asleep during the flight with the Indian woman across me complaining about the wine. For God sake, it’s an airplane not a restaurant. Happy New Year 2008!
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Less than two weeks after my arrival back in Jakarta, my friends asked me to join them going to Batam, Bintan and Singapore. It was on Wednesday night and then I already got on the flight on Thursday night with them. As the airplane was going to land, you could see the island mostly still covered by the forest. It was already late night by the time we arrived there. According to the taxi driver, most of the population in Batam are from Sumatra and Java who work at factories which are everywhere here.


We went early in the morning to Bintan by a ferry to spend a day at Bintan Resort. Most of the people who come to Bintan are going for golfing. Unexpectedly, I met with my old friend in Bandung when we’re heading to the mangrove forest. I hadn’t run into him for ages. Bintan mangrove forest itself is magnificent with the plants, water, blue sky, sleeping snakes, lizards, and big colourful butterflies. I could imagine that Jakarta had this kind of mangrove forest before it was destroyed on behalf of developing the town into a modern one.

On the afternoon, we were sitting on the beach, two kind of beach actually: the beach inside and outside the Batam Resort. The beach inside the Batam Resort is the beach that usually pictured in a travel agent brochure: white sand, blue water, coconut trees and cottages along the beach line. While the beach outside the Batam Resort is a little bit different with the inside one: grey sand, the still blue water, and muddy, since the beach line moved farther temporarily. The coconut trees still there plus the coconut sellers who will serve the coconut on a rotten wood table.

We went across to Singapore on the next morning by ferry. One thing that impresses me a lot is the hostel we stayed for a night: Hawai hostel. It’s the kind of hostel that we didn’t even dare to use its public bathroom to take a shower, so we had our shower on the next day in Jakarta. We just hit the nearest available and affordable hostel on Bencoolen street, thanks for speculating on the accommodation on the peak season. Impressed by the hostel experience doesn’t mean I will spend the night there again on purpose.

2008: a forgotten maudlin short story

She was ruminating one behavior. What was behind all the acts and words? She guessed it as an act to reveal one feebleness. But the scathing and defensive words kept coming out from one as she was irresistibly coming out from one’s shadow and leaves one farther. It wouldn’t be a matter at all if she didn’t run faster than one.

She had been working with this kind of situation before and ended it gracefully without letting the veracity of her feeling got imparted. And she did the same prescription for this one. She had tried to avoiding one baleful influence on her by treating one in a cavalier attitude. She didn’t use her humorous still sharp candor on one since she was trying to understand the reason of one negative behavior.

Everything and everyone should have a reason. Or maybe she just didn’t have fortitude to handle the reactions? So she’s getting along with one no matter hurtful it was. But at one point, she couldn’t pull it off again and let her calm candor been heard by one. And one was shock.

Fuck!! She had lost in a game against herself. She had lost in a game that has been played well due to lack of sleep, a crushing headache and the PMT. Ouch, she really pissed of and ended it by smoking. Some wise words flashed from Bloomberg screen: “there’s a thin line between patience and cowardice”.


2008