My New Sanctuary

Today I spent almost a day long inside the State Library Victoria. I have to do my assignment and I decided to done some work there. I arrived at almost 2 pm. There are people just sit in the benches, birds almost everywhere because today is in fact a quite warm day. After I checked in my bags and brought my notes and stationery, I decided to go straight to the La Trobe reading room. The State Library is located in the very heart of Melbourne just across the Central and next to the QV, a familiar place to meet people. Yet, it has not lost the grandeur that it has but gives the tone into the city. An interesting mix of old and new Melbourne.

The library was built upon the idea to provide the freedom to information and education. Instead of building (or letting, probably, people hanging around in) pubs and bar, get drunk and get into fights, Sir Redmond Barry, the founder of this great library think of a library that will educate people and many generations to come. He think of a free library (yes, you won’t be charge for membership, only additional services such as tour, copying or printing that will cost you a small amount of money!) that everyone can get the access into this magnificent library. It won’t be surprising to find many homeless people during winter and summer in the library reading newspaper or books that interest them. The only rule that might be a bit unique is that nobody is allowed to sleep inside the library. This is made sense, I think, because otherwise, it will become a shelter and the learning activities that supposedly happen there will not foster.

The library has galleries that held exhibitions for free. And now, the Keith Murdoch gallery (yes, it is named after the father of the media mogul Rupert Murdoch! Keith was one of the important person there although I do suspect that the Murdochs did donate a considerable amount of resources to have Keith's name there, hehehe) exhibiting the work of Karen Catt, photographs of the who’s who in the contemporary entertainment industry. It really is a place of self-indulgence! In the centre of the library there is also another gallery (Cowen Gallery) that shows paintings of Melbourne from time to time. There are paintings of Melbourne in the early settlement up until the very recent one. My lecture, John Arnold said that not all of them are worth as an art, but more as a historical painting, that will give a clear picture of the development of Melbourne. But I must say, that is a very bold and clever thing to do!

In my opinion, the greatest room so far is the La Trobe reading room. It is located in the second floor and it takes the octagonal shape. The shape per se is unusual, but you cannot deny the sense of majesty inside it. It has a glass ceiling in shape of a dome. Once upon a time, the dome had served as one of Melbourne landmark. Although today the dome has to compete with the surrounding skyscrapers, the room itself is definitely fantastic, with reading desks that lined-up like an asterisk with a podium in the very heart of the room.

Inside this room, there are huge collections of Australiana that stacks on the wall. And whilst I took a break after working for sometime, my eyes came across the writing on the surrounding walls. I did not see it before because the writings are carved (?) on the white upper part of the walls. And when I read it, it were some beautiful quotations from famous people. One that I could not help to copy it into my notebook is the quotation from Wallace Stevens, “The word is the making of world.” Beautiful yet nothing is truer indeed.

I cannot help but to observe my surrounding. I try to absorb the feeling of being in the time, enjoying my moment of admiring this enormously built library. I saw an old man with a piece of paper in hand locating some books in the Australiana section, which I told you before, is a massive room. He had to walk from side to side just to find the books although his breathing is hard and he hardly able to move the chair that will helped him to reach books at the top shelves. In Indonesia, if you see such thing, people will come and offer their help. Here, although it is considered the polite gesture, must be addressed carefully because sometimes people will took it wrongly. They might think that you are degrading them as human, because they, in their opinion, are able to do such things. Therefore, I just observing him carefully and admiring him in the same time. It is true that learning is a lifetime experience and the man has thought me to always educate and feed my brain no matter how old I am. By doing so, I think I will experience my life in an alert and aware way because I always feed my brain and it will help me to think that I am here to live up my life.

There are other interesting facilities as well in the library form the children sections up to the mature people. They also have huge collections of newspapers, magazines and journals from around the world in microfilms and some hardcopy of the current editions. They have lots of power points so that people can bring their laptops without have to worry running out of battery. The internet connection is free and if you bring your own laptop, you do not have to worry about access limitation. They do advise people who use the public computer to limit their utility until 15 minutes only if other people are waiting. What a great arrangement and people here do as it says! The library also has its own unique café, Mr. Tulk, named after the first librarian, Augustus Tulk, which gives the library a social touch. I cannot stop myself of talking about the library because I cannot stop but to think how a wonderful idea it is, to have a public library that meet everyone’s need (unless if you are looking for romance books) and it is for free! I now found myself in awe of the way people here have the respect of education, culture and invest their time, money and thoughts to build the library in such a way. No wonder people here loves to spend time at libraries and museums even at holidays!

Akhirnya Senja

Baru bbrp waktu lalu saya mengeluh tentang sulitnya menikmati senja di kota ini. Ternyata Sabtu kemarin saya diberi kesempatan menikmati senja yang indah di St. Kilda.

Saya bertemu Patricia, Yopin dan Lucky di stasiun Flinders dan segera menjelajahi jalanjalan kecil di Flinders Lane (thanks to Yulia for telling me this). Kami tertarik dengan arcadearcade dan restoranrestoran kecil yang memenuhinya. Kami berjanji untuk menikmatinya suatu saat nanti karena saat itu kami belum terlampau lapar karena toh saya baru saja menghabiskan makan siang buatan sendiri: nasi dan opor ayam dengan rebusan wortel dan brokoli. Cukup lumayanlah sebagai anak kos yang mencoba berhemat.

Setelah menyusuri Flinders Lane kami pun memutuskan untuk pergi ke pantai dan berhenti di tram stop 136. Setelah berjalan tak tentu arah, kami menemukan Luna Park. semacam amusement park tapi jauh lebih kecil dibandingkan Dufan di Indonesia. Tapi jangan tanya ridesnya. Kami hanya memandangi orangorang yang menaikinya tanpa berani mencobanya sendiri. mungkin lain kali saya harus memotretnya untuk menjelaskan maksud saya. Mungkin saya hanya berani mencoba Ferris Wheel dan JetCoasternya saja. Dan disana saya teringat adik lelaki saya yang senang sekali menghabiskan waktu di Dufan dan rela mengantri berjamjam hanya untuk menikmati permainanpermainan yang memicu adrenalin. Mungkin dia harus saya ajak kemari.

Setelah puas memandangi dan mengomentari permainan dan orangorang di sana, kami putuskan untuk segera ke pantai. Tapi ternyata udara dingin membuat rasa lapar datang dengan cepat. Lucky yang (mengutip katakata penggemarnya di Unimelb) biasanya cool mendadak bawel meminta kami untuk mencari tempat untuk makan. jadilah kami menyusuri pantai untuk mencari tempat makan yang affordable untuk ukuran kami. Setelah melewatkan beberapa restoran yang tampak sophisticated, kami memutuskan untuk masuk dan duduk di sebuah restoran yang cukup nyaman. Setelah disodori menu, kami pun tertawatawa stress karena harga yang tercantum disana tidak masuk dalam kemampuan kami, atau setidaknya, kami merasa sayang untuk mengeluarkan uang $20 hanya untuk makan sore! Karena saya tidak terlampau lapar, akhirnya saya memilih kudapan saja yang harganya cukup masuk akal, potato wedges seharga $8 dan secangkir latte $3.50. Dan beruntunglah saya karena ternyata pesanan saya berporsi besar hingga kami pun harus membaginya ber-5 (karena Jane kemudian datang dan bergabung). Hasilnya, saya hanya membayar $7.50 untuk kopi dan kentang. Cukup masuk akal.

Kenyang. Kami pun putuskan untuk menikmati pantai dan berjalan di dock kecil memanjang. Ternyata, waktu saat itu telah menjelang senja. Jadilah kami menikmati senja dengan angin laut yang bertiup membekukan. Pemandangan yang cukup indah, karena kami tidak saja bisa menikmati rona jingga di langit, tapi juga memandang pencakar langit Melbourne yang mengundang rasa sentimentil saya.

Setelah puas menikmati senja, tertawatawa, berfoto dan udara dingin mulai menusuknusuk, kami pun beranjak ke Lygon Street untuk menikmati secangkir kopi panas dan kue sebagai kudapan dan tempat untuk mengobrol.

Akhirnya saya bisa menikmati senja...

Salihara

I just got the news: There will be Komunitas Salihara in the near future. A complex built to give art a proper place. To build an enriching community and hopefully society. Salihara once was my home. I didn’t know that until my mother told me several months ago. It was the place that my late father built for us, our own nest, far from our demanding extended family. My mother and sister always told me on how my father used to take me to go around the kampung with his motorcycle while the neighbors admiring me because of my physical appearance at that time (I once was white, have big eyes and Shirley Temple-like hair). They used to tell me stories on how my late father loved me dearly and tried his best to raise his own family while he kept the role of the wise big brother in my mother’s big family. I never remember my late father. I know him only through stories. Good stories, in fact, that in the end left me wonder whether the stories are true. i mean, it's sounds too good to be true. To me, he is a mere shadow. Almost mystical. I know that I am weird in feeling this way, but honestly, that is what I feel. And now, a news on Salihara brought back those mixed-up feelings…

Stuck

I write this to liberate myself. I do not know what I am going to write. Nevertheless, I decided to just type it away. I hope this will help me to relief my anxious state. It seems that I cannot distract myself from thinking Hito. It is hard, really. To have a friend in such state while I am away and can do nothing but wait for more news from my friends back in Jakarta.

Geez, I am struggling here

To my dearest friend,

I only have been here for about two months. And I already had news on deaths. One is Taufik Savalas’, he’s one of the Indonesian most loveable guys and he had a car accident and got a head injury. He died instantly. And last night, I have got a terrible news from my close friends on Hito, the nicest guy ever. He had an accident yesterday. A motorcycle accident. He was with his friend, and the friend died. So now, Hito is in the ICU with his brain swelled. Arrghhh, I can’t even imagine how he is doing now because it was such a nerve-wrecking news.

The news shocked me. What is it with death? To die is a certainty. I know that. But the way it comes: sneaking in the middle of the day, tries to get you when you are most unaware of. It feels like it robbed you, robbed the hope that you and people around you on living a great life. It may sound like I am questioning God, but hell, yeah, I feel a little bit stressed out right now. I may have a little slack here. Hito is a good friend, a beautiful and talented soul with a laid back attitude and I wish to have him around for some years to come. So Hito, please come around. You are not ready to give up on live now. Or rather, it’s me who’s not ready to give up on you. We love you for you, so if you feel like it, please come around…

On Men and Women: Partially Relevant

Who is to blame? The woman,
Just for being there
Simple and human?
The man who wants to look at her,
And slightly turns his chair,
And as he likes will watch her faintest stir?

I wonder if he guesses
How his causal stare
Stabs and oppresses

The woman dreads to raise her eyes

Or even touch her hair;
All seems a pose to which his gaze replies.

The thing is hardly level:
Woman, if you glance
You’re called a devil;
For hours he tempts you and you endure
Behold the world advance:
You’re paying now for Cleopatra’s lure.

(Nettie Palmer, In The Concert Hall, 1914)

Justice Has Been Defeated

Just hours after his release order, Mohamed Haneef’s visa is banned by the Minister of Immigration so that he has to stay in custody. People here at Oz wonder whether Haneef has been a victim of political manoeuvre, a desperate effort by Australian government to respond to terrorism issue. The fact that a government official-or a minister in this case-made a decision to overturn the decision of the court is hideous whatever the reason was. The national security issue has been blown out of its proportion so that the public at large is vulnerable in facing the government attempt to rationalize its decision.

One more thing that is important to highlight is that the court has different information from the authorities (compared with the information that the ministry has). It raises another concern i.e. how can this be possible? Why not let everything laid in front of the court that then the judge (or rather, the legal system) can decide what is acceptable or not acceptable in the eyes of law and justice. It is an outrage. Therefore, the government should reconsider its decision and try not to blame on others for its paranoia act, i.e. to neglect the just principle: innocent until proven guilty. NOT the other way around!

Rindu senja

Aku iri pada orang-orang yang bisa menikmati senja. Setelah meninggalkan kampung halaman, aku seringkali melewatkan senja dan menemukan diriku pontangpanting untuk masuk dalam kepompongku sendiri. Senja seringkali mengundangku untuk lebih romantis, mendorongku untuk membuat secangkir kopi ABC susu sambil melamun memasuki dunia khayalku sendiri. Senja menyalakan semangatku untuk lebih reflektif tapi juga sinis di beberapa kesempatan karena senja mengundangku untuk mengeksplorasi ruang diskusi tanpa batas dengan kawan lawan terbaikku. Senja seringkali mengingatkanku pada cerpencerpen Seno, pahlawan sekaligus pujaanku pada masamasa kuliah S1 dulu. Senja terakhir yang bisa kunikmati adalah senja di Jumat lalu, dalam perjalanan kereta api menuju kota Melbourne. Sayangnya, kenikmatan itu hanya sekejap, karena senja datang dan pergi dengan terburu-buru di bumi bagian selatan ini. Rona jingga di langit terasa pelit untuk dikecapi karena malam dan kelamnya begitu kuat mendominasi sedari sore. Gara-gara senja, aku rindu kampung halamanku karena senja lebih lama singgah disana. Ah, kapanlagi bisa kuresapi senja dengan layak?

On Snoops

The morning light seemed refracted through her: as she pulled the bed covers up to my chin she gleamed like a transparent child; then she lay down beside me. “Do you mind? I only want to rest a moment. So let’s don’t say another word. Go to sleep.”

I pretended to, I made my breathing heavy and regular. Bells in the tower of the nest-door church rang the half-hour, the hour. It was six when she put her hand on my arm, a fragile touch careful not to waken. “Poor Fred,” she whispered, and it seemed she was speaking to me, but she was not. “Where are you, Fred? Because it’s cold. There’s snow in the wind.” Her cheek came to rest against my shoulder, a warm damp weight.

“Why are you crying?”

She sprang back, sat up, “Oh, for God’s sake,” she said, starting for the window and the fire escape, “I hate snoops.”

(Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s)

On Multicultural

I saw this DVD for the second time yesterday. It was a DVD prepared for international students who are just arrived and clueless on how things work down here.

I found a particular comment is interesting and funny. here is a Chinese guy who lived with a Singaporean moslem and an Indian. As you know, Moslems can't eat pork and Indians think of cows as God. So, this Chinese guy told the interviewer on how this multicultural thing affected him. Whenever he cooked pork the Singaporean would be very disappointed and complaint whilst whenever he cook beef the Indian will be offended. and he thought, "what can I eat then? chicken only?"

although I've never in the same situation as this poor guy was, I heart his feeling. I lived with most Indonesians here but still it is hard to make things work out smoothly and harmoniously. people has their own values and habits which in one way or another will affect others. especially when you are sharing things.

here, I can't afford to have my own car. public transport is my best friend here. because Oz (or Melbourne in particular) is pretty much a cultural-melting-pot, we can meet with people form almost every corner of the world here. if you are travelling by public transport, sometimes you are thrown into another dimension: a multicultural dimension. you can always find people talking with different languages and accents talking in the same time and it's quite interesting. and, if you are lucky, you can hear one or two familiar languages such as javanese or even Sundanese. You'll be surprised!

Di Ruang Tunggu

Meringis meringis sendirian entah apa sebabnya
Si ucok menunggu di ujung jalan jalan tanpa ujung
Butet, butet, panggilnya meracau di tengah tidur tanpa mimpi yang tak usai usai
Tulang siregar menyanyi doa lirih untukmu
Aku tidak mati katamu menjerit sekuat kerongkonganmu bisa memuntahkan kuasa otak
Aku disini menunggu menunggu kabar dan datang
Jangan dulu jangan dulu kata mamak tapi kamu tahu kamu memang tidak mau pergi dulu
Lalu perempuan cantik itu datang dengan suara lemah lembut meninabobokan
Menawarkan dunia dalam genggam sepuas kau bisa berpeluh dan bergulat
Kamu tidak meragu dan menyambarnyambar kesempatan yang perempuan itu tawarkan
Dan
Kamu jatuh

Tertelungkup

Penuh peluh

Di ujung kawah neraka jahanam

Lalu,

“mamak, mamak, mamak…”

Kamu menangis dan berteriak sepuas paru-parumu bisa menghantarkan udara

Being the Privilege

Do you remember my previous posting titled “A New Chapter”? I previously wrote that I felt like I robbed the Sheering Guy for being here under the scholarship scheme. Yesterday a friend of mine talked with one of the workers at Bettina Street (the place which I lived in now). The man said something that really is ironic (at least for me).

The man : “Your parents must be very rich for sending you here and studying at Monash.”
My friend : “We are here because of the scholarship.”
The man : “That’s even better.”

It actually pretty well-known that Monash is a very expensive uni. Only few of Australians can afford it. The fact that it was an Australian who said that and he is a construction worker [which probably (or probably not) is not a uni graduate] gave me a little kick. I am very fortunate. I am amongst the privilege. And it is my turn now to figure out what to do with this kind of understanding, hopefully I can figure out something good…

The Hoorah Day

The other day I spent a whole day with some of my fellow 6Weekers here in Melbourne. I started out with a cup of hot chocolate and a mocha bun (which unfortunately was too big and I had to give Indro two-third of the mocha bun) and headed to Sovereign Hill, Ballarat. It’s an old 1850s-setting town with lots of interesting scenes. I spent the entire day exploring the premises, admiring things and laughing almost all day long. I’ve made new friends and enjoy the whole day although it was raining (you know how the weather in Melbourne is, you can have the whole 4 seasons in a day!). Afterward, we decided to have dinner at one of the Italian restaurants at Lygoon Street. We ordered 3 pans of Pizza, Lasagna and a bottle of Wine whilst sharing and exchanging stories and jokes. It’s being in the moment I think that made the day felt spectacular. What more could you possibly ask if you are having a great time with great friends and exploring a great place as well. The long walk through rain and cold is nothing compared with the rockin’ day I’ve had. I know, although sometimes it does seem unfair, Life is actually good!

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CINTA dalam SEPIRING MAKANAN

Aku jadi sentimentil. Mungkin juga lapar.
Gara-gara berkunjung ke halaman pikir seorang kawan, aku jadi teringat apa yang kupunya dan yang kutidakpunya.
Aku punya orang-orang yang mencitaiku yang kasihsayangnya tanpa batas dan tanpa syarat.
Cinta mereka tidak kenal pewarna makanan atau saccharin.
Cinta mereka renyah, gurih biarpun kadang-kadang terasa keras dan liat.
Cinta mereka buatku seperti kini.
Tidak megah memang tapi cukup kuat.
Yang kutidakpunya mungkin sedikit kusesali tapi tidak pula membuatku iri karenanya.
Karena ketidakpunyaanku pulalah yang mengantarkanku ke masa sekarang, mendidikku bahwa hidup bukalah rumah roti jahe si nenek sihir di cerita Hensel dan Gretel.
Mungkin benar kata bunda Gump, bahwa hidup selalu penuh dengan kejutan dan seringkali peristiwa tidak berjalan semanis kelihatannya.
Ada pula kalanya terasa lezat meski tidak semenarik foto-foto kuliner di majalah yang mengilap.
Mirip masakan rumah.
Cukup lezat, kadang-kadang fenomenal tapi ada kalanya pula terlampau asin, kurang gula atau terlalu encer, tapi tidak pernah bisa menggantikan cita cinta yang ada di dalamnya.

On Freedom

The Ambassador told his feminine living image, "...freedom is not a tea party, India. Freedom is war." (Salman Rushdie, Shalimar the Clown, 2007, p.17)