It is beautiful, but not every single thing is. Many mornings when my husband is sleeping, I frequently feel the deep-suffocating longing, in which I really expect that Doraemon’s door does exist. Looking at parents’ pictures just make it worst, like someone just poked my eyes. The fact that they’re getting old each day while I cannot be there just makes it worst of the worst.
Hi. Just stop by and put a new thing here that I consider uploading it on Instagram is not a good idea. Feel too much I guess, while to me personally, much efforts and tears were best friends to complete this that I need to perpetuate it somewhere. Yes, thesis.
Today I officially an M.Pd, master of Edu. Hhh thinking years back then, when parents needed to work hard for me, hit me hard getting me teary eyes, speechless. Wanted to hug them really tight for this.
Let's say it's my graduation day. Well thanks to COVID-19, no parents, no family, no flowers, but here is my husband with endless supports and super positivity; and ofc Nasi Padang after that.
Completing this thesis taught me to really appreciate every page written, every progress made, every hour sleeping, every minute the advisors given. And yes, what worked for my friends somehow did not work for me. I felt like I was the only lazy one who did not work on my thesis and did not make any progress every time I saw groups of friends updated Whatsapp or Instagram stories, showing they were together in the library, uploading a pile of paper photos. I suddenly became very nervous when I saw friends uploading stories about their meetings with advisors.
In fact, without having to go to the library that often, without making updates on social media, I could finish my thesis. I went to the library but I preferred to do it alone to check some references and back to the boarding house immediately, closed the door with snacks prepared, and worked. Those suited me best.
What friends did not know was that I also experienced bitter advisors' comments which made me cry all night, advisors' complaints about how ugly and unreasonable my writing was, advisors who were too busy to meet, fierce librarians, running out of money to print out materials before the consultation. Once I ate instant noodles for almost a week since I need much money for printing them out. I cried, a lot like "Dear God, just give me billions!" then I would travel around the world, and became an influencer. To hell with this thesis. No, kidding. I need to graduate :")
The difference was that I did not upload them. Period.
I then understood that the "how is your thesis going" question was indeed annoying and gave me more pressure. But being annoyed without doing anything would make me super uneasy, so...no other ways out unless I worked on it. Progress is progress.
The point is, "fuck what your friends are doing. It's just an illusion, made worse by your preconceptions.", I said. Most importantly, based on my experience, focusing on my own work was the only thing that I should do from the very first time.
I think that's it for now. Feel soo good after a little bit swearing tho wkwk. See you!
- Malang, 16 September 2020.
May 9th,
2020
Three weeks after the
wedding day. We’ve moved to our own house, somewhat on the outskirts of the
city. Like other newly couples, we’re happy and enjoying the adaptation, which I so far appreciate it, and which I don’t expect to change too.
It’s Ramadhan now. Bit
different from last Ramadhan(s). Besides what-so-called covid19, fasting in a
new family is admittedly dissimilar.
I used to wake up at 3
or more with some food already prepared on the table. My mom’s favourite menu for
sahur (since it’s easy) would be endog goreng, and mine was blendrang
terong lol, I could not get it now tho since my husband doesn’t like even
the eggplant itself.
Our sahur would
finish right before adzan subuh. The moment of fasting was very special
in which we gathered so much, more intense. Before my father got the kidney
disease, he used to be the imam at the mushola. We prayed isya and tarawih
together, and recited qur’an with some kids and teenage neighbours till like 10
p.m. The mothers took turns sending food: pecel, bakso, watermelon, or
gorengan. Some kids usually would only wait for the food and then went home;
leaving the teenagers. All those memories are worth remembering.
Speaking of which, different
from our family in Magetan, here we don't have such practices. Especially at
the time of corona, physical-distancing-things.
Well, we’ve spent a
week at my parents-in-law’s house before moving here. Since my husband’s family
is wonderfully multicultural, I found bounteous new points. Not everyone is
fasting, praying is so much personal, eating at the moment of other members of
family’s fasting would still be respected-also the one who is fasting gets no
probs. They’re super chill wkwk.
Being a new wife gets me
bountiful theories to real practices. I’ve prepared myself, learned a lot in
terms of domestic life, made sure that I have been legitimately ready for
having my own family. Then here it is! With some captivating surprises of
course 💕
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| found flowers on the first day moving in! |
The thing I just
realize is that being a woman in a family, I would specifically say being a
wife in my condition-yours is probably different, is the key. I cook,
clean up, make the bed, and all the stuff. No cooking means no food for the
family. No cleaning up means letting the house dirty and uncomfortable. Still,
my husband complained when I forgot to throw the bread wrap or fold the blanket
hahah. Women are absolutely amazing. Mothers are unquestionably incredible.
Sometimes we’re less
appreciated since all those activities have become daily routines-always and
usually done. Our presence and what we’ve done are just like breathing.
Crucially needed but not everyone realizes. That is why housewives are usually
underestimated, while in fact, they have never ending works.
Telling you guys these
stories doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy my very new life. I love my role, I really
do. But at some points, some details bring me a deep longing. The noise of children
at the mushola, mothers who gathered after the tarawih prayer, mother’s
cooking, the quiet atmosphere before sahur…
The absolute
unchangeable thing I just also realize is the decision of getting married
itself. I’ve told you. I’ve been prepared for all the consequences before
deciding to get married, but now I really experience them. Once you decide to
tie the knot, you cannot undo it and have to accept that any possibilities
could happen; even at the moment when you kind of want to give up or annoyed,
you can’t. Therefore, don’t ever get married when you’re not ready yet, even
when everybody asks you to. It’s you who gets married, not anyone else. Don’t
mind your age, you’ve the whole life in your own hand.
BUT, I gets a new happiness
for an empty dirty plate while he says ‘enaak’, I gets a new exhilaration for an
every-day-friend of watching movies, I gets a new elation for morning hugs and
night kisses. And I’m thankful for that.
It’s 10.49 p.m. My mom
must have slept already. Too shy to tell her that I want to see her so bad now.
She should not worry.
We’re fine. We’ll adjust and get into a rhythm and flow.
Good night, Ibuk…
It was Saturday night
When the first snowflake falling
on your bangs
Seeing around no one around
Only an old beagle stood at the
dark crossroad
Giving a cold look, like the old
lady on the Aberdeen train this evening
It was such a long way
You heard a jingle bells song
from a far, as the house in front of you
You did not move anywhere
Freezing cold outside, freaking
awkward inside
Hesitation needed to manage
You could see mother stirring up
a warm hairst bree
failing finding it in any other
places tho, possible no longer
Father wore an army sweater you
bought the last winter
He’s busy with the phone, made
the fifth call
still no answers returned
He then made a crisp joke as he
always did
about the dog who became a
national symbol for grief
They laughed.
As you managed to lift the leg, something
pulled your hand
Your body felt lighter
mother and father you could see no
longer
the house was farther, smaller
Sunday morning
the beagle was still there
the train would never come.
You come again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and never
again.
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and again
and never
again.
Two days before the play by Dayani
Sasana Aksara entitled Siap, Kapitan!
I received a call from Yuniar Resti, the theater director.
“I’ve
had a terrible argument with the actors, all of them but don't tell anyone,”
with her pessimistic-was-about-to-cry voice.
What do you think that means, except I
then came to the assumption that this show would never be succeeded or the worst possibility,
it would never be happening.
Two days later, minutes before it began, Resti – who was also the make-up artist, set designer, costume, sound and
lighting designer, sat at the corner of Ezo’s performance space eating snacks
showing as if nothing happened.
 |
| Here she was after snacking 👀 |
She once told me that the idea of Siap, Kapitan! was
adapted from the work of Rahman Arge, Sang
Mandor. I’ve read the original story in which I got the dominant
emotion of sadness and madness without clearly presenting the sense of humor. At
the beginning of the story, it was dominated by the role of the Mandor and his wife, followed by
the three of their sons (Juki, Poke, Uduk) as well as Rimba – the right-hand
man of the family. There was all of the characters gathered where the three of
sons had a fight towards which one of them made their father fainted and created
his disappointment most.
At Dayani’s performance, the title of Kapitan replaced Mandor for which, still, they represented similar character of a forlorn-stubborn-emotional-pathetic
man. However, while there was no clear distinction of how many wives the Mandor or Kapitan had in the original work, Siap, Kapitan! displayed the presence of young delightful charming fourth
wife who fonded of shopping after and along with the appearance of twelve port workers. You can imagine how crowded and ‘festive’ the stage was. Some of those twelve
workers then played roles as Rimba and the sons: Koni for Juki, Jali for Poke,
Nuke for Uduk with the great change of the characters from the workers to each son’s
character which was presented individually and one at a time. Therefore, there
was no direct conversation between the sons as well as the sons and Kapitan’s wife. In addition, surprisingly,
there was an appearance of Jali’s wife who sued for divorce.
By the aforementioned description and comparison, you may already be able to distinguish the differences between the two that there had to be significant plot changes. The original story presented the chronological plot, while Siap, Kapitan! offered neatly displayed reverse chronology.
In terms of the actors, an extra point
was that I could not find any sense of nervousness or hesitation. It was
presumably because they had done the same performance many times, not forget to
mention the theater competition at the university. This point was then probably
the basis for them to no longer put much effort and seriousness, so that there were
several overlapping turns; two characters who talked at the same time. However,
despite the fact that it was raining, their voice could still reach the entire
room and kept the emotions stable which was additionally supported by the narrow space of the venue.
In addition, although there were some changes of the actress, Siap, Kapitan! has indicated
a considerable improvement from the first performance, which I also watched.
Taking the narrow space into account, it was
actually enough for the whole audiences but not big enough to provide the comfort.
It created the bad smell room along with the hot air. Some of the audiences unconsciously
fanned themselves and closed their nose. Yes, I said unconsciously since they were still hypnotized by the actors' unpredictable grumble,
burst out laughing.
The image of Kapitan was presented by a high school boy who transformed into the figure of a cranky retired captain who managed to show that he was once stout and strong. He physically reminded me of Carl Fredrickson in Up movie. The loneliness, anger, and hopelessness were consistently brought out on the stage. He showed no care to the people and their jokes, affirming that he was extremely in pain. Like a typical lonely sickly old man, he tended to be sensitive and irritable. Something in reality that somehow got me questioning and failed understanding.
Siap, Kapitan! was indeed a story of a forlorn-stubborn-emotional-pathetic man, but here, Resti successfully combined the feeling of sadness with the humor completed with closely life-related jokes and typical expressions of East Javanese which created enchanting circumstance even more.
Siap, Kapitan! was indeed a story of a forlorn-stubborn-emotional-pathetic man, but here, Resti successfully combined the feeling of sadness with the humor completed with closely life-related jokes and typical expressions of East Javanese which created enchanting circumstance even more.
Last but not least, I did not have much comments for the music since it has been already perfectly mingled with the performance making it more entertaining.
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The Yellow Lady - Jali's wife
|
Over all, I enjoyed the show and
considered the hard-earned money was worth-spending for the ticket. At last, as the 'debut' and reflecting on my own expectation knowing some preparation drama inside the drama itself, this performance was beyond. Well done!
For the upcoming performances, by considering more comfortable space as well as more practices along with the scripts originally made wholeheartedly, this newly initiative should give us confidence to create greater masterpieces.
For the upcoming performances, by considering more comfortable space as well as more practices along with the scripts originally made wholeheartedly, this newly initiative should give us confidence to create greater masterpieces.
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| Break a leg, Dayani! |
PS. Due to the emergence of having the best resolution documentation, I purpose the procurement of additional materials such as iphone11 or sony RX100 camera. Tq
