It's Complicated

Yes, I'm talking about a relationship.

Between me, and Liverpool.

I'm not a big fan, really. But at least I'm not that so-called fanatic supporter who appears and cheers when the team is winning. I'm also there when they lose--oh instead, I aaaalwaaaayss happen to appear when they're losing. Always. And it's starting to be very annoying to me.

I realized about this misfortune since forever ago

But after last night, I don't think it's just a coincidence.

So yea Liverpool lost against Real Madrid in Champions League team round. 0-3. Sucks as it was aired midnight I had to sleep early and woke up around 1.30 AM. Just similar to the one against Manchester City for EPL's week 2. Same time of broadcast, same number of goals suffered. Liverpool lost both matches, when I wholeheartedly interrupt my precious sleepy time just to watch them.

Mario Balotelli last night, against Madrid. Pic's from here.

Now let's go back to last weekend's EPL matchday. Liverpool against QPR. I watched it halfway. And what's up Liv?! It's QPR and you were like, struggling?! I watched the whole first round and stopped at minute 70 something because I had some stuff to do. It was still 0-0. But then when I got back, the score changed to 2-2 and with the addition of QPR's last own goal on the last minutes, Liverpool won.

I mean, what the hell?!

Why would they score a lot
While I'm away, not watching??

The biggest proof was, of course, their whole performance last season. They were shining, blasted from the bottom and ended up securing their spot for this season's Champions League. Sweet plays, as I heard from other sources.

From other sources

Yes. For last season, I missed the whole year, EVERYTHING, because I was so busy preparing my thesis, getting ready to the US, Vietnam and Philippines, as well as doing my first freelance job. I was totally like, totally occupied. I didn't even remember that I once made a pledge to start liking this British football club called Liverpool.

I was totally disconnected from The Reds,
And they were having the time of their lives.

Can't believe I literally missed their best performance last season. Stupid me. Pic's from here.

I mean, what the hell?!
Am I bringing some, curse?

P.S. : I've been noticing this for so long, but after last night I made myself pretty sure that I'm gonna be very supportive if Liverpool ever wants to kick Glen Johnson out.

Like It or Not, Enjoy

Hi.

I don't think I ever once talked about my city. Jakarta. Well, I guess I'm now in mood to talk about it. Since last weekend, I just felt how convenient this crazy city actually is.

Sunday will always be the un-guessed-able time of the week. You cannot predict what happen in Jakarta during Sunday. Usually it's empty because as the last day of the weekend, people don't feel like going out. But if everybody thinks that oh, I bet roads are empty today so let's get out then boom! Enjoy the sudden traffic jam.

Last weekend, for example, my friend brought me to two places that in general, should be crazy crowded: Tugu Kunstkring Paleis and Balai Kartini. And don't get me wrong - both were, crazy crowded. But Jakarta was so sweet last weekend -and that's why I initiated this post because if it was an ass, don't even expect me to mention Jakarta ever again in this blog- that somehow, we managed to visit both places easily, with a happy heart.

For the first place, we parked the car by the street, in front of somebody's house. This is what I benefit the most from how loose regulations in Jakarta are - also, the first thing I really adore from this city. We can be a slick and cheat the rules. Well actually rules about cars parked randomly went a bit more strict lately but still, loose regulations are loose.

So we went to the building, enjoyed the colonialism-themed bazaar and left with two super beautiful china plates we don't even know what they are bought for. I'd really love to upload the plates but, yaa maybe later.

Next stop was Balai Kartini. From central Jakarta, the venue can be reached either from the main protocol Jl. Jend. Sudirman or via this critical big road Jl. H.R. Rasuna Said in Kuningan. During weekdays, both streets are, well, what can I say, fresh shits from hell's ass. You don't, ever, wanna be stuck there. Ever. That's why during weekend, traumatized people try so hard to avoid these evil streets.

We decided not to take Jl. Jend. Sudirman and drove through Kuningan instead. And guess what. The street was beautifully empty. We were so pleased to realize that the only long line we'd be facing was around the venue, when entering and looking for parking space. But again, guess what. Apparently Balai Kartini knew that the event will be blessed with tons of crowd so they provided this shuttle service that people can take from one building in... Kuningan.

God blessed our Sunday. Second thing I like from the city, is that people here are well-developed. They didn't just make some crappy events, they thought forward about how to make people reach their event easily, practically. Well, maybe because most of the committees were expats which lead me to the third point I like from Jakarta: it's freaking internationalized.

So we parked the car in this very empty parking lot, walked to the lobby and took the shuttle straight to the venue. It was the event of promoting European countries so yes, lots of traditional foods, traditional outfits, traditional music, traditional dance, and yes, again, I watched flamenco! This time, the dancer was a female so I could get the true beauty of enjoying the dance.

I forgot her name but, she danced gave a crazy elegant show

Wow. I just love how surprising Jakarta is.

One day it could be a pain in my ass, giving me unnecessary plenty of time to waste in the street, pouring my days with extra sunlight, making me wanna curse with all bad words I learned from the day I was born. But one other day, it could be the savoriest thing in my chicken. You know, when you eat fried chicken and there's this one second of your chew that tastes better than the rest of the mealtime, yea, Jakarta can be like that sometimes.

Never once I ever thought, to actually leave this city for any other big cities in Indonesia. Not even Bali. The only choice I set for myself to live in is either Jakarta, or, abroad.

And oh, this reminds me to one striking-right-in-my-heart punchline I heard from a Love Jakarta Campaign video that, shit, I still can't get over with even until now.

It says something like,

Jakarta, my beloved cruel city.

Hm. It lost it's tone when said in English.

Okay so let's try saying it in Bahasa, shall we?

Jakarta, Kota Kejam Kesayangan

Childhood Conspiracy

Childhood is like, something I can’t get over with.

Especially mine. The 90s and early 2000s.

So I was on this discussions with one of my seniors. We were talking about cartoons and characters and stuff, and we ended up mentioning the Sailor Moon.

Okay first of all, before you judge me things, I didn’t watch the whole series. I just happened to know that Sailor Moon has lots of female characters with personalities and superpowers based on planets in the Milky Way. See, those are two things I actually like. Planets, and stories with dozens of characters. That’s why I briefly knew Sailor Moon. Not that deep, okay, just, briefly. And I happened to have a minor crush too. For Sailor Neptune –whose name I didn’t know up till last week.

Now back to the discussion with my senior. Just right when I mentioned Sailor Neptune, a very big secret I never thought I'd heard from my childhood revealed right before my very ears.

My senior told me that Sailor Neptune, along with her so-called mate Sailor Uranus, were lesbians.

Pft, stupid trivia thingy trying to ruin my childhood. I didn’t believe it right away as I categorized that news with other stupid facts my friends and I used to share during our pre-elementary school like “casts of Teletubbies died of losing breath inside the costume” or “the true ending of Doraemon says that Nobita is actually an idiotic child and all his adventures with the cat robot were all just his imaginations”. Just, what an unreliable news.

But still. When I got home, I browsed Google. Just to make myself sure, as I, again, knew so limited about the serial so who knows that it was all just pure rumor but… Well what can I say, the senior was true.

I mean, what the hell!?

How could sensitive issues like that appeared so early in the childhood stage? And in the cartoon which almost all the audiences were girls? Okay most countries cencored their relationship and made it like both Sailors were cousins and stuff, but back in Japan, it was that obvious!

Crazy yes?

I just remembered a little that Haruka Tenoh -ya now I know the name of Sailor Uranus as I kept browsing about her since last week- was a shorthaired blond, paired almost all the time with Michiru Kaioh -and of course I know Sailor Neptune’s name too. But I just didn’t notice that on the regular life, when she’s not a Sailor, Haruka was an extreme tomboy dressing like a macho guy. Well, ya, because I just simply thought that that character was actually a boy and not an alter-ego of Sailor Uranus!

Oh, sorry if I make a big deal out of this.

Really, it’s not that I’m against lesbians no.

In fact, so just you know, I'm excited instead!

I’m more like, you know, curious of what else I did miss during my childhood. Or what else I did see everyday, on a daily basis, but I just took it for granted because I didn’t notice there was anything wrong with it! Now that this came up to the serial I barely watched, I'm dying to know what kinds of tricky scheme those cartoonists did to my favorite shows.

Sailor Neptune and Sailor Uranus, crap I was tricked all these years...

Shit now I’m more obsessed about my childhood.

More than ever

¿Listo Para...?

These past two weeks, to me,

Had been so, how do I say it, oh!

Artsy.

Why I don't know. Maybe because last week I went to see Stomp. For free -sorry I can't stop bragging about this miracle. Then yesterday, I got to see some other dancing performance. This time it was even bigger. Even more elegant, swag-less and felt more artistic. To make it more dramatic, it was held in Gedung Kesenian Jakarta.

A flamenco from Spain.

If it wasn't that, I might not be interested to come.

Apparently I've been a fan of this dance even before I knew that the performance is called "flamenco". Well I must thank Tom and Jerry's episode "Mucho Mouse" for that. The very first time I was exposed to the adorable clapping hands dance. I can't recall how old I was back then, but I'm pretty sure I was young enough as I used to dance along as a dancing matador with my brother being the bull. Many times.

Then four years ago. World Cup 2010. I bet you won't ever forget how phenomenal song "Wavin Flag" was. Crazy remarkable and I must say, along with "Waka Waka", World Cup 2010's theme songs were all better than -it's so hard to say this- 2014 Pitbull's "We Are One". It was adapted into many other languages including Arabian, French, Indonesian -pft, Grecian, many many more and of course, Spanish. Sung by David Bisbal, he did a very little flamenco claps for the clip. Very little, but really inspirational. I still even see the clip until today.

So would I miss the show?

Of course not!

Just me trying to imitate what I just watched

I enjoyed every single bit of the dancer's movement. Every single bit. I enjoyed the tunes, the drum beats, the oh-so Espanol guitar plays, man! Who would've thought I could actually see the real flamenco performed by the professional dancer!

And it was, that, damn, inspirational. Not that I want to start practicing flamenco lol no -although yea, I really find the clapping part of the dance extremely fancy and arrogant in a good way damn I want to try doing that everyday. It was inspirational because, it makes me wanna know more about Spain. I adore the language. In fact, I'm learning it right now. And I wanna adore more about it.

Well it's not only that.

It was also inspirational because,

It makes me wanna do something off my habit.

Watching shows like that, is really not my thing. This also became the major reason why I missed the real Broadway shows along my stay in New York. Well yea, because I didn't have that much interest. Yet.

But after Stomp, and especially after Flamenco, I just realized that I actually have a thing in this. Well I'm pretty sure I won't fall for every single kind of shows but, at least now I know I can stand sitting in front of a stage, shutting up for one or two hours and enjoying a show.

"One of my friends, a New Zealander, went along to GKJ. Once she got into the inside building she was practically amazed by the interior. Then she said something that lingered really good in me. This is so un-Jakarta.

What she meant was the building. But what I interpreted,

Was the habit of me watching a live show like that."

It's so not me, really.

Yet I enjoyed both shows.

Maybe I'm ready.

USA: Complete

Remember last year?

No? Ah, c’mon, it’s October, and I bet you won’t ever forget what happened October last year. Okay at this exact date, I was vacuum for a while. But two weeks after, I was like all mellow, couldn’t move on and stuff. Get it now? Yea.

America.

Shit man. Forget last year when I was just arrived. Even today, I still can’t get over it. Well I’m not going to talk about how I miss US. Yet. Because today last year, I was still there. Starting the MUN conference -oh my God I even remembered the details. Not yet whining about going home. So I’m not gonna start bragging about how I can’t move on, before October 13th, the day I arrived home last year. Save the date, you might not wanna visit this blog on that day.

So why am I bringing this up now?

There’s something from my visit to the US last year, that I felt so much regret about. It was The Broadway show. I was there on the street like, many times, but not even once I planned to see at least one of the famous shows. Well I can’t all blame myself for that, because I was pretty strict on my budget anyway so... Yea.

A year went by, but

Regret still lingers on me.

However, faith finds its way.

Stomp came to Jakarta. One of the Broadway's best deal came to my hometown. I've been exposed to the publications for so long but seeing the price, I felt like maybe I need to wait until I could fly back to NY and just see it there. If that ever happens again. But just before I returned home from the office last night, a friend told me that he's got a free ticket to see the show. Was I happy? No, I was hysterical.

I left the office, rushed to the bus, cursed the universe for that big unnecessary traffic occurred along the way -seriously, usually it wasn't that heavy, ran to catch the bus which apparently moved so fvckin slow. But after all I could manage to catch the show, although I was just seconds away from missing the opening doors.

Then I sat on the best spot for two hours, extremely entertained by the show. Eight crazy performers using cans, buckets, trolleys, it wasn't just their magnificent skills that I adored, it was also the comedy! I couldn't believe my eyes on some level of their performance, but giving the thought that they came from the Broadway, okay, no wonder they could do that.

It was restricted to use camera and recorders inside. So I got the pic from here.

Crazy show.

Crazy timing.

Crazy coincidence.

I mean, what are the odds?!

One of the Broadway’s best deal came to my hometown, performing on the dates I was visiting the US last year, I got the free ticket and it was… The Platinum Class!? It was worth 1.3 milion rupiah, so just you know. Not to mention the fact that I came late but still on time, the gate was still open, it closed right after I stepped in, and the show started just a minute after I sat my ass on the perfect seat I was like only 10 meters from the stage!?

It was the best gift I could ever ask

To cure my longing for America.

And it came just right on time,

Right when I needed it.

God loved me.

Oh and Uncle Sam did too

Meow

Have I told you that I, am a cat person?

Well, I'm forced to be a cat person. Long ago, and as I told you guys in a post too, my brother got us a cat, then got us another one. They're called Ebol and Ebul. We never actually had good experience in handling cats. But with these two, we learned.

Then one thing led to another. They formed a family on their own. Four adorable kittens, let's just call them "Batch One". Today, they're a year and a week old. Yea they had their birthday last week. One year raising these kittens from the very beginning up til now, we admit that we can't let even one of these cats go.

On May this year, Ebul gave birth to five more kittens we'll call it "Batch Two". One died -it crushed my heart really bad because he was so ugly but I was always by his side along his sickness days- and the other four grew healthy. Just when we thought we had enough, Ebul's daughter gave birth to three relatively-ugly kittens we'll call this "Batch Three".

So we had thirteen cats under one roof. Those crazy times, thank God I was still unemployed back then. Can't imagine if mom should do everything herself. So yea we began to deliberate about how to deal with this. Subconsciously we would've let Batch Three go because, umm ya you know, they're not good breeds. But really? Letting go of one month old kittens? I wouldn't forgive myself if that ever happened.

Then we had to face the truth.

Batch Two, consisting of four crazy cute cats,

Yea they should go. We really had no other choice.

It was really stressing. They were like, I took care of them my whole unemployment days. Unlike Batch One which I was still busy with campus stuff, with Batch Two, I saw these kittens grew before my very own eyes. 

They were inside the cage for one full month, sleeping with me, and with my American-Vietnamese friend who visited me, began exploring the out-cage areas during World Cup, then they grew and became very demanding kittens, screaming for milk when my family and I had our sahoor, we spent Eid together, I let them crash my bedroom like everyday, playing with my stuff and I'll be like, "oh shit, don't play there!", keeping them inside during their meal time because if they eat outside with the others, their food would be stolen by their bigger relatives...

Oh God...

Then all of the sudden Friday two weeks ago my brother's friends came to take two of them. I was screaming inside, grouching to myself "what the hell are these people thinking!? I raised them with so many pain in my asses and they're here now to take them away from me!?" but I had to. So two gone, two to go.

Until Sunday last week.

Yea, a week ago. Another friend of my brother's came to take one. My favorite one. The one who was dying and I was there to see him getting stronger and stronger. The one who was the weakest of all three, always becoming the object of bullying, got wrestled and choked, and all he could do was gasping. The one whose belly was weirdly warm, whose snore was the most adorable sound I ever heard from another God's creature. The one who always stopped while he was playing, walked into my room and just stood there with his big goofy eyes, kinda wishing to be grabbed and hugged. The one who... Shit, I'm literally crying now.

I don't wanna talk about how he finally left my house. It was the hardest thing to go through. I slept early that night just because I can't stand the heartbreaking moment. And it's still breaking me until now. Because remembering that he's alone in his new house, after all these months surrounded by twelve other cats, Lord, I hope at least he's living a good life so he doesn't even have to feel lonely.

Batch Two. And that who's staring at you, he's the one I felt so hard to let go

Fortunately, the last kitten of Batch Two remained here until today. We lost Ebul somehow, she never came back it's been more than a week. So we decided that she'll be Ebul's replacement. And the one that will remind us about her three leaving brothers.

Wow.

Never thought that having cats could cause such emotional troubles.

I learned a lot from this tho, that I am actually an animal person.

But in the future if I want to have pets, I have to make sure

That I only have one and no more

The Verge

How many times, in this blog, did I tell and brag to you that a copywriter will always be my dream job? I told that many times along my study. Wait, are you thinking--oh no, really, it's not that I'm no longer into being a copywriter no, I'm still dying to be one.

Until I realize, that my other 'stuff' is interfering.

Travel Writing.

I never realized how much I'm actually into this field until I started my book project. It was so alive, so flawless, I enjoyed every page I wrote and the next thing I knew, I had 200 pages ready to be sent to anyone like, ANYONE, who would want to publish my script.

So now I feel like, petrified.

Standing at the end of the road,

Facing two branching streets,

And I have to pick one.

I've been through several job interviews. Two of which were interviewed by expats. Which, apparently, both turned out to be the best two interviews I've ever done. Why, is it because I nailed both? Well I rock'd the first one, but definitely not for the second.

Let's talk about it one by one.

The first one was on May. My very first professional interview ever -and it was 3 hours public transport riding from home. I was interviewed for a writer position. Travel writer for a website, to be exact. The interviewers -yes, multiple, for my very first interview- were kind of flattered about me. We had a great convo tho, it wasn't even like a formal interview at all.

But then my limited editorial experience held me back from getting the job. The interviewer updated me about anything, shortly after my interview, and even gave me suggestions about how to improve my chance in succeeding journalism. I didn't feel so much upset tho because, I figured that I still have to enhance my skill.

Now the second best interview, it was two weeks ago. This time, I applied as what I've always been longing for: a copywriter. In a big multinational agency. A road to my dreams come true. But that didn't happen smoothly. A very strict woman interviewed me.

This'll be a pain in my ass, I told myself as I learned that she's very cold and flat. I could tell that she wasn't even impressed at all and I was totally correct. And right after I shut my mouth of presenting my portfolio, the first thing came out of her lips are "can I just be frank?"

"Crap, this ain't be good" my inside trembled like shit but my face showed the sweetest smile I could ever generate.

She started pointing out that my portfolio wasn't strong enough. Too campus-ish. She then lectured me this and that, and I couldn't even forget about the topic of "choosing what's the best in life". It was hard for me to actually accept those words from somebody who just rejected me, but, apparently, this became the interview that opened my eyes about what I really want.

Yea.

The two interviews, from two distinct industries, made me realized that I haven't figured out which way I'd totally want to dive really deep into. I don't even have strong bases on both fields it's like, I only commit to fifty fifty in each.

So should I let go one of them and focus on the other one?

But, which one? Giving the fact that I love, both of them?

Well,

Don't call me Vicky if I ever give up on what I like.

I have plans, believe me :)

Tolerance

Usually.

Let me just peel one by one the layers of my true identity.

Usually, I really put a massive jealousy towards people my age, that has become very famous or successful in his or her own way. Let's get back to yesterday's World Cup. If you notice who I felt so envy to, ya, it was Neymar. He's 22, popular, rich, and I hate him. I know, it's very pity. But I can't handle it it's one of my weird natures.

But.

Maybe I've grown to be a more mature man in just two months but, now I don't think I have that thing anymore. Pft, no, I still hate Neymar. He'll always be on my death note til doomsday comes. I was talking about the jealousy. Ya it's kinda disappear. Or maybe it has a higher tolerance level now. I don't know. But the thing is, I don't feel much of a jealousy, when I see

S  A  M     S  M  I  T  H

http://www.factmag.com/tag/sam-smith/

In fact, I love his art. His songs. He has a weird voice tho, but it's unique. And I happen to like many of his songs. It's just not my habit, you know, to listen to something slow, sway and, a bit sad. You know I listen to Pitbull and all those upbeat music. But then when Sam appeared with his money on his mind, I just fell. To the ditch. Of course not! I fell, in love with his music!

Then compared to Neymar who's a month older than me, Sam's two months younger. So according to my "guide to hating people", I should've carried more grudge towards Sam. Because he's younger than me, he's a newborn singer but globally noticed, classy, got an attitude, well, I gotta stop because if I keep mentioning, I'll begin to hate him :)

Now why do I accept him more than Neymar? Well, maybe because the field of music is more reliable to me than sport -you know I'm not a big fan of doing sports- so I'm acting much rational to Sam than Neymar, so... There we go.

Or maybe, maybe... Because of the fact that Neymar's been like all over the world I only been able to dream of, meeting all kinds of football stars I only been able to see from the internet, because of those two big points I've been longing to come true, that could be the reason why. While Sam, he's a newbie. And I never been exposed to him being somewhere in the other side of the globe that can make me being jealous about. Maybe.

So.
Smith.

Don't get too all comfy now.
Because if you ever travel the world,
Or worse yet, meet Pitbull or even collaborate,
You'll surely be be on top of the list, of people my age
Whose ass I want to kick hard

Eyes Opened

"... that I'll write right after this."

-- previous post    

Pft. Me and consistency. Big issue. But no worries, it's only 24 hours late. Now I'm here, ready to write about the quick escape to one of Indonesia's pearls,

B A N G K A

Parai Tenggiri Beach, Sungailiat, Bangka

First of all, let's have some prologues. Bangka, was my very first domestic trip I ever did. I know, pity. Mom's from Manado and I never even been there. Dad's from Cirebon I go there all the time, but I don't really consider that as a 'real' trip. Also when I went to Palembang, Bandung, Jogja, Semarang, Solo, Surabaya, Malang and Bromo, ya, because with mom and dad around, that's called 'vacation', not 'traveling'.

And Bali... Well, I've been there tons of times without mom and dad. So whenever I go there, it is, a traveling. But not domestic. I don't know, Bali no longer feels local to me. It's too overexposed with bules, bules everywhere so... Yea, really un-local. I love it tho, really much! But it just doesn't taste 'domestic'.

So when I say "a domestic trip", it should be something... Exotic. Something mainstream people don't go to. Something you can't easily see in your Instagram timeline. Something expats don't wander around because, there's not many expats! Just, something when you mention to people about your plan going there, they'll be like "wow, what are you gonna do there?"

The Bangka trip, actually it wasn't my plan at the first place. My friend initiated it. I myself preferred going to Belitung tho because, it's more popular. But then one thing led to another and Bangka it was. Only three days, two nights, but eventually, I realized a thing.

Indonesia, is really, literally rich.

Not being cliche, but it is. You don't even have to fly far to the east to see how diverse this nation is. Bangka's just 500 kilos away and there you go! It feels more like Malaysia rather than regular Indonesia. Then the next thing I know, I imagine myself in Sulawesi, and it'll feel like Philippines. Then I'll be in Sumba and it's the extremely different other thing! Crazy.

I saw common tourist spots tho in Bangka. Beaches -sick, sick beaches because those were so beautiful, museums, historical residences, Chinese temples, souvenir shops, yea, regular. What made me stunned, and really made my eyes opened about this whole "Indonesia's so fvckin marvelous" thing was, the local living itself. As well as the culinary.

Oh my God, wow. Can't believe myself.

Never thought I'm so obsessed with locals.

Went to Vietnam, acted like a local. Went to the US, tried to be local. Went to Philippines, people thought I was local. At this point I really just realized that my main personal ultimate objective of traveling, is actually nothing but to see how locals live!

It's not just overseas trip, apparently domestic ones too.

Air Anyir Beach, Pangkal Pinang, Bangka

Presindent Soekarno's Excile House, Menumbing, Bangka

Pangkal Pinang City

Tin Muesum, Pangkal Pinang, Bangka

Now Bangka, thank you so much.

You didn't only make me see that

Indonesia's filled with sick islands.

But you also made me be fully aware of

The true essence of traveling

Traveling: In or Out?

Lately, traveling's been a very popular activity for us Indonesians. Some people stay inside the country in search of hidden beaches, experience of hiking mountains, sensation of island hopping, and many other ways. Some others, on the contrary, fly over the continents, hang around Doraemon museum, pose in front of Eiffel Tower, sleep at Sappada Mountain, damn, never thought that Indonesians are actually rich!

Many people said,

"Why traveling abroad? Indonesia's good already."

And to be honest, I don't like that justification. I mean, without a doubt, Indonesia's the most beautiful set of lands I ever known in my whole life. There are indeed, some scenic islands somewhere on the other side of the globe but, that could be all for the country. While Indonesia, there are lots, and many others yet to be discovered.

But there are many things you can't see, or learn, just by traveling within Nusantara borders. Like culture. Or, what others have that we don't. And vice versa. Then you can figure out similarities between them and us, as well as learn their origins, way of living, language, economy, God, I can't even mention everything. Traveling is not just about the beauty you see with your eyes, but also what you feel in your heart.

Okay you've seen crazy panoramas, sick beaches and volcanoes, but if inside you don't feel challenged like, you're just safe at home, well, it's just a simple holiday that happened to be exciting because of the good visuals. I'm not offending Indonesia's potential in tourism, oh God no, because believe me, I just figured out that I actually want to start conquering this country. In fact, this post is actually a teaser of my very first domestic trip I ever done, that I'll write right after this.

So why am I bringing this up?

Simply because I just want to make things clear. That from traveling own country, and traveling overseas, I don't think you can make a comparison out of those two. There's a whole lot of different things to be talked about in each side. You can't say which one is better than which one.

Although to be honest, I still have one ultimate point of why I slightly prefer go on an international trip. The one thing you can't have from just traveling inside, from just enjoying your own treasure, which is

The grateful feeling,

That you weren't the citizen of those places you're traveling to

That instead, you were born, and raised, in such rich nation

We call it "Tanah Air"

Who's Getting a Book Now

Hey blog, what's up?

HAA hahaha yeess I'm talking to you again now. Wow--what?? Are you accusing me of been hiding something from you again and this post is the part when I'm confessing?? How could you do that to--okay, yes, I'm here to confess something again.

Sorry I been concealing this for so long but,

I actually been working on my own traveling book.

And since it's out in the bookstore now, there's no harm telling.

Well, in my defense, I kept sending you signals that I planned to make a book out of my Vietnam trip ya!? Let's take a break and look back to my posts about Vietnam. See? See? See!? I said, "Well I'm sorry I can't tell much about it. I have plans of where to spill more things about Vietnam." didn't you get what it means?

Okay whoa sorry I'm here to confess and apologize now, not to make a scene.
And maybe to briefly tell you how this magical thing could actually happen to me.

Trip to Vietnam was too affecting for me. It was crazy unforgettable, with all stuff I did alone, all people I met along the way, God, I can't just waste it, I talked to myself. So I had this idea to record everything in a form of a book. Because I know, a blog couldn't -and wouldn't- hold all details anyway.

Spent the whole February and half of March working on everything from A to Z, before I finally sent it to a publisher. At first I didn't expect them to want to publish the script I proposed because, they're like the top publisher in here. But then, God really loved me because it was reaching my birthday when they mailed me back, telling me that they were interested to work on the script. I was trembling all week long.

Since after that, the times of struggling kept coming. Worked on the revisions, checked and edited the proof, I did so many editorial stuff I never even learned before. Those were actually fun because, it was what I like! What's not fun was, the waiting process. When I couldn't do anything about it, but to wait and to keep myself in the loop about the on going stages.

Until last week, my editor said that the book was going to be out on Monday, August 25th. It drove me crazy. I don't know why, I mean, I knew it'd eventually be released, it was not a shocking-unexpected news. But then, ya, I was totally energized. But the climax happened on Friday, August 22nd.

I was passing by the bookstore, and slowing down near the traveling section, when I saw a blue book I knew I was so familiar with. Because I've been too many times exposed to that cover. Because I was the one approving that cover. Because that was the cover of my book.

I went out of control. Flashed straight to the nearest praying room and cried in joy. All the waitings, finally paid off. But still I have to wait for the best time to show this book to my family. And then to everybody, right after my family. Because of course, I'd want to show that first to my family.

So last Sunday I brought them to the bookstore. It was a really weird invitation because at first my brother didn't really want to come -he's not a really big fan of books- but I somehow insisted all four of them to join me to the bookstore. They gave in tho, maybe because I started to be all nerdy and freaky. Then I walked them to the traveling section. Stopped near my book, turned around and face everybody before saying,

"Guys, all these times, I wasn't unemployed
for nothing. I made this."

Then entered my book. Right to their faces. Their stunned faces. Seeing my name written on the cover. Dad was speechless, mom cried. My brothers started shaking my hands awkwardly. We spent like almost half an hour taking photos of the book. And me.

Crazy day. I've been dreaming about that scene since, wow, I don't know when. I always pictured it before I slept, when I was doing nothing, basically, almost all the time. And it went the way I wanted it to go.

That day, and that August 22nd,
And that day when I got the emails from my editor,

God, will forever be in me.

"Cheating Southern Vietnam"

Never thought I could go through everything. Alone.
Well, not that alone because I always have a place to lean on.

So thank you, Allah Almighty.

Obrigado, Brazil

I promise, this is my last post about World Cup 2014.

Somehow I gotta stop and move on with my life.

But I'm sure it's gonna be hard.

Maybe I told you, World Cup has always been a special occasion to me. I was crazy upset after Italy finished celebrating in Germany 2006, or after Spain called it a day in South Africa 2010. And without a doubt, I am still so down at the time I'm typing this.

Moreover, this World Cup has been pretty distinct to me.

In terms of enjoying the real game of football.

I remember the last World Cup in South Africa, I owned this blog already and I did just the same: kept posting this and that about what happened along the cup. But then as I re-read it this year, I could just smile and pity my old self. It was exciting, and rich. But on some level, boring. Because I was watching the cup emotionally.

I stuck myself to one team I supported from day one. Riding the same roller coaster with the same 23 men from match to match, stage to stage, I barely watched other games. I did followed up the other matches, but only with big teams in it. Until finally my team went home as the champion, I felt satisfied because they won. Not because I enjoyed the whole cup.

But this year,

This year's World Cup was not even as rousing as the one in South Africa. I didn't even feel the euphoria until the opening ceremony really started. And people seemed to be more moved hearing "Waka Waka" than "We Are One" -as Pitbull's fan, this sucks. But despite the world's poor excitement towards this cup, I, on the other hand, eventually thought that this was the best World Cup I ever watched in my life. Because I was watching the cup logically.

Observing each game's true essence, players and techniques, gave me a whole new perception in enjoying football. And the fact that the most entertaining fights didn't only come from big teams, damn, it was just the right timing for me. I swear I never screamed that loud, by only watching teams like USA and Belgium. Get it? USA? Belgium? In 2010, I'd leave them to bed and just wait for the result the next morning.

Anyhow.

No matter how logical I'm trying to be, once the cup finished, I'll be ended up heart broken, and be upset anyway. Well I still get to see cool football matches tho, hello, Liverpool will be on Champions League this season! But then, it'll only be my personal consumption.

No more tweeting with each nations hashtags so it'll appear in the worldwide timeline and random people from random countries will retweet or even favorite my thoughts, or, posting stuff in this blog, publish it on Google Plus and suddenly dozens of people +1'd my writing, making it accessible to the whole globe and international flags will appear in my blog traffic instead of just Indonesian flag, or, texting my Israeli friend who lives in the US, telling him "I can't believe you didn't even trust your own squad while I'm like, here, adoring your keeper!?" or constantly texting my German friend with the same damn messages like "oh wow, congrats, your team made it to the next round..." literally ALL CUP LONG, wow! It's just, after this... No more worldwide shared consumption.

Oh well.

This World Cup itself, has been a worldwide experience for me personally. Worldwide celebration of my own. I don't really have to be there in Brazil to feel this, or be with someone with the nationality of one of this cup's contestants. I don't even need my national football team to enter the cup so I can join the euphoria!

Everybody can put whoever's flag in the sky,
Wave them side to side, show where they're from,
Or at least, show where they send their supports to.

This just shows how diverse we are, but despite that,

At the end of the day we sit the same way, watch the same thing.

Don't know the source, but it's not mine

That's just the beauty of World Cup.

And how I always liked the impact.

Thank you, FIFA.

I'll see you again when I'm 26