The Good Place: Yayasan Pemimpin Anak Bangsa

On 6 October 2019, I volunteered as a tutor at Yayasan Pemimpin Anak Bangsa (YPAB), a not for profit organisation focusing on continuing formal education for underprivileged students. I taught a non-curricular class: diversity and multicultural inclusion.

I admit I volunteered, mostly, because of selfish altruism. I needed to be inspired. I was in a low point of life. I was working in a toxic environment (I was part of the senior management, so I am partially to blame too). I wanted to feel better about myself. And the easiest way to feel good is to do something for other. I am hacking my social animal instinct.[1]

Additionally, Kiki, one of the founders of YPAB, who is also a co-worker and a good friend, is a very persuasive individual.[2] He has successfully persuaded some of the firm’s staff to volunteer as tutors: Vera, our then finance senior staff, taught high school level accounting and Renata, our client relations staff, taught Mandarin.

I want to contribute, but I have never been interested much in Indonesian structured education curriculum. School was a place to socialise, the academic learnings were extra for me. I am more inclined to abstract thinking. When Kiki came out with diversity and multicultural topic—something that I truly care as someone who identified himself as ‘transnational’, ‘multicultural’, and ‘traveller’—I had all the reason to say yes.[3]

At first, I was reluctant to include ‘controversial issues’ such as atheism and homosexuality. I thought the students are grass root Indonesians, they may not ready to discuss them in constructive manners. Then I remember someone wrote that liberal intellectuals who think most people are easily offended and cannot understand liberal ideas are actually elitist snobs. The cultural war will not be won by discussing Camus whilst sipping wine and whisky among privileged and educated social circles. So I went for it.

The classroom was crowded. There was only one fan in the room to help mitigate the room temperature, and they kindly directed it to me. The class was briefly interrupted with power outage. However, all the students listened attentively. Engaged. None of them was looking at their smartphone when I was presenting. Many of the women were wearing hijab. There was even one lady in burqa who consistently made eye contact and I saw no contempt when I declared I am an atheist muslim.

In summary, I taught them about affinity bias; on how we have the tendency to like or more comfortable with people who look like us. I also explained the concept cultural identity as something abstract and relative but most importantly malleable. One’s emphasis on the value of identity may not be the same with others; for some religious affiliation is important, others their profession matter more. I also taught them about our prejudices. As humans our reptilian brain have them intuitively, affected by our upbringing. Yet as humans we can check our assumptions with our reasoning. I closed the session with pro-social questions. There are several questions which acceptability differs in certain cultures. For example, “What is your religion?” and “How much is your salary”—one is acceptable in Indonesia and the other in Singapore.

They gave me a wonderful little surprise for me: birthday cupcakes. They sang happy birthday to me, celebrating my belated birthday. I am not really into cupcakes, but the gesture made me into cupcakes.

Surprise (late) birthday party!

I did not plan to stay long after class. But then I talked with Kiki, co-founder Dora and the volunteers Dira[1]  and Vera, in the administrator’s room. There was also Pak Junardi, he was a director in one of the largest telco company in Indonesia. He visited YPAB to consider volunteering as a tutor.

I did not realise yet that the administrator’s room that day became my class room and I had 5 powerful tutors.

Pak Jun said he is a kampung boy, grew up in a small village near Blitar (he said it is not even in a map). He migrated to Jakarta after getting a degree as a mechanic from a vocational school. He worked at the casino as a dealer (it was the Ali Sadikin era, that’s how senior he is). When the casino was shutdown, he became a peddler selling cigarettes. Then he found employment as a biology teacher.

He had two advantages that made him a good teacher: he can and read English books; and a kampung boy knows plants. He told us that when he did not have the money to buy books, he’d hang around a bookshop for hours and read and made notes (public libraries were not common in Jakarta, even until now they tend to have limited collections). His hobby is bonsai.

We all wanted to know how he joined and climbed to the top of corporate world. However, he was saving that for his official class in YPAB. As further teaser, he told us that he is a certified 7 Habits coach and he has been coached by Stephen Covey himself. During his time in corporate world, he instructed his managers to write their personal statements. He still have his pasted on his home office desk.

After Pak Jun left, Kiki and Dora told me their war stories in building the organisation.

I am impressed with YPAB Tanah Abang facilities. It is located in a building owned by PLN, the Indonesian state power company, by the Ciliwung River. It is a humble building, right at the heart of a slum, a hotspot for their ‘target market’. Yet they have everything a proper school has. Some of the rooms even have air conditioner. If their tangible assets are these impressive, they must have great intangible assets.

Riverside view of the YPAB: kids swimming in River Ciliwung (definitely polluted).

Both Kiki and Dora are highly (internationally) educated and well travelled. They have powerful professional careers. Despite their privilege, this is not to say that they are immune to setbacks. Dora had an employment dispute and was let go when the firm she was working for was acquired. It was during that tumultuous period she built YPAB. Kiki left a promising career at now the biggest law firm in Jakarta, partly because he was struggling with mental issues, then he built the foundation.

When they started, they struggled to acquire and retain ‘customers’ (i.e. students). Apparently, many not-for-profit organisations focusing on continuing formal educations are less than credible. They issue the degree to the students without actually administering the education. The administrators’ unjustly profit from the grants, the faux students got a formal degree without having to put the time and efforts for educating themselves.

Consequently, funders need to be convinced that YPAB is legit. While they need to find customers who are actually willing to invest in education. Kiki told me how he struggled with the latter. Many marginalised people are unable to see the benefits of investing in education. Given the financial stress they are under, they have more pressing needs to get a job. Their time spent on studying is time lost on working. Additionally, the pragmatic use of a formal degree is to get a job. Thus, in short term, the less than credible organisations which can offer the degree without requiring them to study and attend class have more interesting proposition.

When YPAB Tanah Abang was opened, one student enrolled. Reluctantly. He was late for 1 hour, making the tutors wait. When it was raining, he said he could not go to school despite his home is walking distance. Kiki picked him up with umbrella.

They ‘market’ the program by approaching people in public. When Kiki was working as a lawyer in an international law firm, they went to drivers’ cafeteria in CBD office buildings to handout flyers during lunchtime. They spoke to peddlers on Car Free Days, pitching their free education programmes.

YPAB secured a significant grant in 2014. They told me how they spent sleepless nights preparing for the proposal and pitching to the funder, each contributing their professional skills. They were competing with larger organisations with good reputations too.

Kiki said things are progressing fast when Rizal Arryadi joined as headmaster. He is a brilliant educator. Now, people are on the waiting list to enrol. If a student slack off, they would be expelled and replaced. Students are coming from as far away as Bekasi and Bogor (YPAB even subsidised their train fare). Some of the students are admitted to public universities.

YPAB stories are classic entrepreneurship lessons. The underdog stories that everyone loves.

The vision, the purpose, the focus, the teamwork, the experiments, the sacrifice, the dedications to customer service, and the fun and joy. They are all textbook grit implemented. I can see why they have powerful career. Their skills and resilience are transferrable to any other aspect of life.

I imagine how painful it is for Kiki to listen to surface level jargons such as ‘#Clientsetisfaction#’ (the misspelling and double hashtags are exact quotation). Kiki has built and developed a credible, real organisation, delivering valuable education services with significant constraints. Not just a papier-mâché relying on empty branding and often deceptions.

That Sunday, I was in a company of amusing characters. Their non-conformist and bold attitudes allowed them to live such a impactful, therefore meaningful, life. It was a Sunday well-spent. I was and still am, inspired. They reminded me that there are talented good people creating good places.

However, I feel ‘small’ at the same time. I realised I have been too self-absorbed lately. I think only on how to make things work at the firm (a hopeless cause, now I learned) and how to maintain my expensive lifestyle. I worried about money most of the time. Feeling guilty for not being productive and failing to achieve my ‘targets’.

I have forgotten that none of us can walk through life with impunity from sadness, sorrows, and worries. I was suffering in a false sense of isolation. By giving myself to someone and something beyond myself, I woke again.

[1] I also meditate daily and undergone psychotherapy.

[2] I recruited Kiki in October 2018 as an associate lawyer for the firm I was managing. Just a month after I was hired as the deputy managing partner, I needed to restructure the team of lawyers. Budget was tight but the only way to improve was to recruit talented people. Kiki was referred by a former co-worker and a friend. I never thought a person with such high qualifications would accept the offer we made. He could have found a much more competitive offer in terms of salary and remuneration.

[3] I once attended a CPD class on Multicultural Inclusion by Simmon Holiday when I was working for Herbert Smith Freehills. So I copied and modified the materials to fit profiles of YPAB students (I hope it is not a copyright infringement since it is for ‘non-commercial use’).

Andira is a volunteer for PPKN subject

November 22, 2019

The Ultimate Diversity Couple

I have close friends who are mixed-race-homosexual-couple, Indonesian-Norwegian. I have known the Indonesian guy since high school. He met his Norwegian partner when they were in Copenhagen Business School. They are legally married under Norwegian laws. I do not think it is wise to disclose their real names since they are living and working in Indonesia, therefore I will refer them as Pleasures the Indonesian and Bear the Norwegian.

While I do take pride in being friends with them just because the fact they are homosexual couple (to brag how ‘liberal’ I am), they are amusing individuals and I think our friendship is politically neutral. I would still be friends with them for their personalities even if they are a monocultural heteronormative couple.

Hanging out with them is an acquired taste. They don’t just break the stereotypes of a couple (homosexual couple is an anomaly in heteronormative cultures—obviously), they also break the stereotypes of gay couple.

They are far from apologetic and have zero, if not minus, political correctness—especially Pleasures. They have the audacity to tell the plain cold hard truth with no sarcasm. These make them good friends and counsels. They will tell me things I need to realise, and not what I want to hear.

When I was getting fat, they would say I was getting fat. They do not say it in a mean way, but in a ‘get-your-shit-together’ way. When we were dining together with a friend who was having financial difficulties, Pleasures suggested that she should be exempted to pay because ‘she is poor now.’[1] However, they never said anything with malicious intent. Their brutal words are mostly plain articulations of their capabilities of empathy, or expression of jokes.

They are both masculine. Well, not to the extent as masculine as Gareth Thomas, the Captain of Welsh Rugby Team or Professor Oliver Sacks, neurologist, rider and weightlifter, but I train boxing with Pleasures and Bear is into video games.[2] Their physical features are more manly than me: bigger size, heavier built with facial and body hairs.

They don’t know anything about make-up, hairdressing, manicures-pedicures, They are not into selfies and update their Instagram only sporadically (when they do, it is rarely about themselves). They do not listen to Taylor Swift.[3]

They don’t follow Kendall Jenner or the Kardashians (in fact, we never discuss any subject that is E! Channel material). They do not gossip and never employ sarcasm in communicating. In short, they are not superficial.[4]

I took a comparative analysis on the dynamics of Pleasures and Bear’s relationship with my own heterosexual partnership. They communicate the way men communicate with each other e.g. short sentences, nodding. While in my case, my wife does most of the talking even though we are both extroverted and talkative (except during exercise or when I’m drunk—and I am talkative).[5]

This seem to be evidence in support of the notion that ‘guys do things together, girls talk to each other’. Pleasures has many girl friends (note that the space makes all the difference). It seems he prefer to ‘talk about things’ with his girl friends who are, mostly, single ladies.

When Pleasures was making travel plan for their trip to Mongolia, he wanted to make sure their itineraries are full with activities.[6] He said they are not like me and my wife who can talk to each other all the time when there is nothing to do.

Or perhaps, it’s more because Bear is an introverted individual? I don’t think so. I am an extrovert and I don’t really talk about my feelings in full extent with my male friends. I can open up better to women.

All these facts seem to support the notion that homosexual couple is atypical of heterosexual couple. Nevertheless, they have to deal with the same issues of romantic/sexual relationship. They may communicate differently but they still need to communicate.

As multicultural couple, they also break the cultural stereotype. Indonesian men are stereotypically unreliable in domestic matters such as cooking, cleaning, ironing, and laundering. They are not expected to do ‘women’s work’ and many middle-class households have domestic helpers. Pleasures is better in homemaking. He is an excellent cook (so good that one of the greatest past times in Jakarta for me is the lunch or dinner parties hosted by them) and always keep their home organised.

Once, Pleasures went on a business trip for a week and Bear sustained himself only with awful foods he ordered from a restaurant nearby. He was too lazy to cook, not adventurous enough scour streets of Jakarta for decent food, and/or has not developed sufficient language proficiency to order delivery. It seems paradoxical considering Bear’s Scandinavian cultural background.

Reconstructing heteronormative mindset and masculinity

Being friends with them required me to undergone a structural change in mindset. Fortunately, all that travelling and reading have taught me that the world is much more complex than the mindset, the concept, or the thought system we have acquired or familiar with. I have learned that our cognitive capability is unable to grasp base reality, simply because it is unnecessary for our survival.[7] Mindset or ‘concept’ is useful for us to process information by filtering and fitting them into a system.[8]

By acknowledging and being aware of a known concept’s limitations, we can adapt, change, and adopt new ones. Concept is analogous to categorisation system. We arbitrarily label something for ease of reference. However, a label is representation of the real thing, but not the real thing.[9] We need to expand our references and be open to different mindsets as well as applying them in context if we want to understand the universe a little bit better.

There is this misunderstanding on homosexual couple, at least in Jakarta, that one of them must be the ‘wife’. The ‘wife’ dude is the maternal one, the effeminate one, the one who express his excitement in high pitch and obsessed with glitters and pastel colours (literally, the gay individual).

I remember an episode of Modern Family when Cam was upset because he was grouped as ‘the mums’ by ‘the dads’ at Lily’s school. The moral of the story: there is no ‘husband/wife’ division in gay couple. They are both ‘husbands’ i.e. men, persons with penis.  Trying to fit LGBTQ couple in a heteronormative mindset does not work if we want to understand them.

The term ‘husband’ and ‘wife’ are progressively becoming more gender neutral. In the traditional (misogynistic) values, the husband is earning the money and the wife does everything else. Nowadays, it’s supposed to be about genitalia. Misogynistic values are not just holding back women in reaching their full potential but also hurting men with toxic masculinity expectations e.g. what if the wife is a better and more interested in business and the husband in homemaking? It may seem a reversal of roles, but works in modern society—especially in urban society—do not put men’s physical strength as a competitive advantage.

The stereotyping of homosexuals are not just rooted in heteronormative mindset, but also in the concept of ‘masculinity’ which both sexual orientations are subjected to and adhere, consciously or unconsciously. Under conventional masculinity, men are expected to refrain from expressing their emotions and avoid ‘self-indulgent activities’ (e.g. manicure-pedicure, facial, etc). Homosexual men are not exempted from such expectations. Yet no matter how they satisfy conventional masculinity, they can never be considered as real men because of their sexual preference. Consequently, many homosexual men think they have to choose between the two camps: machismo or gay. Of course, the camps are, again, concepts and labels. They can be a non-binary choice.[10]

Pleasures and Bear also taught me to transcend the concept of monogamy. Pleasures and Bear are the only couple that I am close with that practice open-relationship. They can have sex with other guy, as long as it is casual and disclose it to each other.

Despite Indonesia is the largest Muslim country in the world, polygamy is still a controversial concept for most Indonesians. Monogamous relationship under the romantic concept is still the default psyche and the mainstream approach for couples. Political correctness in Indonesia demand public figures and celebrities not to be openly polygamous, even for dais (Islamic preachers). Under the default traditional moralistic views, open-relationships are deranged. The fact that Pleasures and Bear are homosexual couple seems to reinforce the idea that homosexuals are basically immoral people.[11]

Moralistic point of views aside, I know that long-term monogamous relationships relying on infatuations and expecting ‘happily-ever after’ is not realistic. Nevertheless, I do not think I and my partner can function under open-relationship arrangement. As Alain de Botton aptly put, it is difficult to be a libertine and have a stable emotional relationship.[12] Maybe my need for emotional stability is higher than them.

Pleasures and Bear understand the risks of open-relationship (at least, I think they do). They dive in to the libertine arrangement and reaping the explosive excitements of sexual freedom—even in conservative Jakarta. Bear, being a white guy, exerts competitive advantage in the Jakarta’s dating game.[13] Pleasures may be ‘local’, but being highly educated intellectual with strong financial capacities, he also enjoys the privilege of desirable date. Many times they even join forces and have threesomes or orgies.

Until one day, Pleasures met a talented fashion photographer. I will call him Argonaut. He is Chinese Indonesian. Pleasures is infatuated with him, and their feelings are mutual. He overstepped the boundaries. His relationship with Argonaut is more than casual. Consequently, Pleasures and Bear went into a spiral. They decided to separate and Pleasures move out from their cohabitation flat.

After series of emotional breakdowns, therapy sessions, Pleasures decided to leave Argonaut. Strangely, Pleasures and Bear met with Argonaut. They all drank together and talked. One thing led to another, infused by alcohol, they ended up having a three way. Bear also found emotional connection with Argonaut.

Now they are having a love triangle but with no one excluded for another. A polyamorous relationship. Can I call them a ‘triple’? I remember once I told them that if they would be the ultimate diversity couple if they adopt an East Asian or African child. Seeing them together, it seems that the concept of ‘modern [nuclear] family’, where interracial same sex couple adopting ethic minority child, is not progressive enough in diversity initiative programme.

I jokingly told Pleasures that he is a true Muslim man. A successful polygamist who is able to bring together his ‘wives’. It may seem that Pleasures hit the jackpot. Nevertheless, I imagine his mental bandwith must be exhausted. He once complained that there are two snoring guys sharing his bed. He also admits that he is not optimistic on the sustainability as a triple.

I am grateful for my friendship with Pleasures and Bear. Their life stories are amusing. Most importantly, I can observe specimens of contemporary love up close and personal. This is a rare opportunity for someone who was born and lived in Jakarta for most of his life. Orthodoxy is the majority view here (not even conservatism). Therefore, my default moral matrix is not liberal. I had to educate myself to be culturally liberal. We learn the most from the people closest to us. Pleasures and Bear provide both the emotional connection and the intellectual stimulation, the heart and mind approach, to understand identities and relationships of homosexual men.

Perugia Pride 2019

[1] Being the more diplomatic one, I corrected him: ‘she’s broke.’

[2] I know it’s not the 90s anymore when contact sports and video games are associated as the past time for men, but still they are still male dominated pursuits.

[3] I do. As Detective Jacob Peralta aptly said, ‘she makes me feel things!’ See Brooklyn Nine-nine, ‘Unsolvable’ (S1:E21).

[4] In Indonesia, gay people are often assumed to be ‘superficial’. Pleasures thinks the stereotype is not entirely wrong. Most of the homosexuals he met in Jakarta are superficial. Nevertheless, he added, many heterosexual men and women in Jakarta are also superficial. I think superficiality also subscribes to gender division, i.e. the ‘basic bros’ and the ‘basic bitches’. Gay superficiality is represented by men who act as ‘basic bitches’. The combination makes a juxtaposed double cringe and, therefore, superimpose the superficiality.

[5] I scored 90% for Extraversion in Myers-Briggs personality test. My wife 98%.

[6] My Indonesian friend is the dominant one in the relationship, he seems makes most of the decisions. This is also contrary to the stereotype that Asians are more submissive compared to Western people.

[7] S Adams, Win Bigly (Penguin, 2017).

[8] Concept is analogous to software in computer, while our body and corporeal senses are the hardware. We do not see with our eyes, but with our mind.  See Invisibilia podcast Emotions.

[9] NN Thaleb, The Black Swan: the impact of the highly improbable (Penguin, 2018)

[10] M Humphries, “Gay machismo” in A Metclaf and M Humphries (eds), the Sexuality of Men (Pluto Press, 1985) 70-85.

[11] Of course, many homosexual couples are strictly monogamous. Additionally, there are heterosexual couples who are under open relationship. I just imagine it must have been easier for the woman since she wield all, if not most of, the powers of sexual tension. After all, men will be happy just to ‘get some’.

[12] A Botton, Course of Love (Hamish Hamilton, 2016)

The Ultimate Diversity Couple [13] Most Jakartans, and Indonesians, still struggle to be free from the Dutch colonial era eugenics psyche. Pleasures, half-jokingly, referred this competitive advantage in dating as ‘white supremacy’.

July 3, 2019

Netflix’s Sex Education

The plot: an awkward 16 year old who is a son of sex and relationship therapist opened up an unlicensed sex therapy clinic at his school. The business idea came from his übercool super-smart classmate who observed the gap in sex education among their teenage peers who are at their peak puberty phase.

Set in Moordale, a fictional county that is supposed to be in UK—based on the landscape as well as students’ accents and racial demographics (yet the school infrastructures seems American. Lockers, no uniform and Ivy League look alike school insignia).

Moordale is a liberal democratic socialist utopia. Interracial families and social cliques are common, European (open) attitudes toward sex, no homeless: all immigrant families live in proper housing and even the trailer park is decent, pro-life activists are laughable minorities, and zero racist or homophobic harassment incidents.[1] Moordale people has the privilege that every individual’s problems are existential and no longer basic economic needs.

Like in Channing Tatum’s 21 Jump Street, Moordale’s public high school social ecosystem has evolved progressively. The cool kid is the smart feminist with strong sense of individuality who reads all of Jane Austen’s books by the age of 12. The pretty South Asian gay boy is a member of the popular gang (because ‘homophobia is so 2008’). The dumb blonde with big tits is kind. The big bully is an outcast. The jock is still the stereotype of high school jock of the 90s: athletic (the star of the swimming team), handsome, and popular—except he is black and a son of a mixed race lesbian couple.

The series’ characters are a model of successful diversity initiative programme. The main star Otis Milburn is still a white male. However, he is not portrayed in a traditional escapist masculine character that glorifies jocks. He is sweet boy who tries to get through high school as an invisible, always in the corner unnoticed. He is also a virgin who cannot masturbate due to childhood trauma.

Otis lives with his mother Jean, a therapist with PhD and a man eater. She co-authored a best-selling book ‘Pillow Talk’. Her past success working collaboratively with her ex-husband on the book made her struggle in writing independently. And, despite her wealth of knowledge teenage puberty, she could not help not to pry and invade Otis’ privacy out of her maternal instincts.

Jean does not subscribe to monogamy, especially after her ex-husband cheated on her and left. However, when he met Jakob Nyman, the Swedish hunk plumber, and developed love interests, she projected her insecurities to him despite her years of professional experience and wealth of knowledge in psychoanalysis. Jean wrongfully assumed that Jakob is like her, a divorced womanizer who often romances his customers.[2]

Maeve Wiley is the smart attractive bad girl with charming dark personalities from a broken home. She is above popular. She is cool. She lives in a trailer park (another hint of Americanisation, poor Brits live in council houses), her mother is a drug addict, her father left the family and a brother who disappears regularly due to trouble with the police or the mob. At odds with her white trash upbringing, she consumed literatures and philosophy books. Exposing and exploring her thoughts on feminism, existentialism and transcendentalism and punk music. Maeve was the one who came with the idea to monetise Otis’ innate gift to listen and counsel on sex and relationship matters by setting up the underground therapy clinic.

Otis’ best friend, Eric Effiong is gay boy from an African immigrant family. Eric’s father as a first generation immigrant is always mindful to ‘assimilate’, repressing his self-expression to fit in his new Western society. Therefore, he is worried of Eric’s exuberant non-conformist queer sense of style that makes Eric stand out.

When Eric experienced homophobic assault, and Otis failed to listen to his agony since his best friend was self-absorbed with infatuation towards Maeve at that time, he changed his style to be more conformist. To be more invisible guy in the corner like Otis. Nevertheless, he found comfort in his family’s African church that he is loved.[3] Eric decided to come to the dance ball with full on African style. He stood up against the bully, denouncing his fear to be different. At the dance, Otis asked him to dance and mend their broken friendship. The dance ball, ‘the sexist tradition appropriated from American culture’, can be fun and a platform to bridge platonic relationship between a heterosexual from upper middle class family and a homosexual from a working class minority.

I think when Eric and Otis danced (Eric lead, of course), it was the most heart-warming and poignant scene in the entire series (and the series is full of them). The scene summarises the progressive values: that ultimately we as species can transcend our corporeal homophily and cultural concepts. That all values and concepts are malleable. They are not constant nor absolute. They are open for modification and upgrade.

The core theme of the series is sex. Real sex. Not sex as falsely advertised in porn or lifestyle magazines. Baseline and carnal, sex is a force of nature that shapes our personalities and emotions. By openly discussing about sex and breaking down the social taboos, we can emancipate societies from sexist traditions and archaic heteronormative mindset to liberate ourselves from toxic masculinity that oppresses both women and men.

Sex Education is a cultural propaganda with powerful progressive liberal agenda. It can be an important arsenal in the cultural war against populism and orthodoxy.

[1] Eric the black teenage queer experienced one homophobic incident in an episode, but it happened outside the county.

[2] Jakob is widowed and has not had sex since the death of his wife.

[3] As described by the Trevor Noah, black churches are the most passionate and warm with all their communal singing and dancing. See T Noah, Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood (Spiegel & Grau, 2016).

March 3, 2019

Hugin & Munin

I made my 5th tattoo with Shinya of Studio Muscat in Shibuya, Tokyo. I learned about the studio from Instagram. I travelled to Japan in 2018 Christmas and year end. I made a booking by email one month prior to my departure. Late December—holiday season—was a busy time for them, many people are travelling to Tokyo and booked tattoo session. However, they managed to squeeze in an appointment on 28 December 2018 at 11:30.

Studio Muscat’s senior artists are women. I was hoping I could work with a female tattoo artist for the first time. Nevertheless, only Shinya who was available at that time. I never have doubts on Shinya’s artistic qualifications. I browsed his portfolio and love his works. It just seems that tattoo art industry is still male dominated despite tattoo artist is a gender neutral profession. I wanted to have more gender diversity on my skin.

Regardless of my feminist aspirations, working with Shinya was such a pleasant experience. He has a J-Rock looks: blonde-dyed hair with beard and moustache. My pre-conceived notion is that he has this bad boy personality. But when I met him, he is the calmest and quietest tattoo artists—with Japanese overt-politeness that is borderline awkward—I have ever worked with. Unlike Chris Hewish the Londoner and Adith Setya the Jakartan, he does not chat while working. A sign saying something like ‘Please be quiet. Your tattoo artist need to focus and will finish faster if not talking’ is posted on the wall.

Shinya of Studio Muscat

I have low tolerance to pain, I always screamed during tattoo sessions. Chatting with the tattoo artists is one way to distract myself from the pain. But this time I did it the Japanese way: to suffer in silence. I only sighed and dropped some tears.

Shinya finished quickly. For such a complex tattoo with brush effects he finished within less than 2 hours. We did not chat much even after the session. He has limited English, but we connected beyond words. We are connected by the image, the symbol, on my left arm: Odin’s ravens, Hugin and Munin. Thoughts and Memories or Reason and Intuition. 

I became interested in Norse mythology after following the film series American Gods, which are based on Neil Gaiman’s book with the same title. I first read the book in 2008 and reread it in 2017 in order to understand better the series.

American Gods is a great book, but the film series allow further expansion. The book, which was written in early 2000s, made no reference to the ubiquity of social media and the internet as one of the new gods. Jesus—one of the most powerful gods in America—was only briefly mentioned in the book (trying to hitch a ride in Afghanistan). While in the series, Jesus is manifested in multiple racial personalities (White Jesus, Mexican Jesus, Black Jesus, etc). This time, the film is better than the book.[1]

Gaiman is fascinated by Norse mythologies. He even wrote a book about it (with the same title).[2] Norse Mythologies are his version and interpretation to the myths. He may not be the first or the most authoritative scholar on the subject, but he is a great storyteller. Therefore, his book is an entertaining and reliable source to learn from.

I also read D’Aulaires Book of Norse Mythology, an illustrated children book, and National Geographic Magazine issue March 2017. I binge watched the series Vikings on Netflix. It is like Game of Thrones, but the plot centred on the Pyke, and the places and characters are historically real. All the violence and sex portrayed in the series are so carnal and appealing to our reptilian brain. Hot muscled men and sultry fierce women fighting and fucking are enjoyable to watch—especially Katheryn Winnick. However, the series are also educating on the moral matrix of pre-Christian Europe. The pagans were more violent but sexually liberated and less patriarchal.

I learned that Norse gods may be as cruel, yet their gospel is less confusing than the seemingly compassionate but wrathful Christian god (or other Semitic religions’). Vikings’ belief celebrates virtue of warfare: courage, strength and cunningness. Their version of ‘paradise’, Valhalla, is a continuum of fighting and feasting until the end of times Ragnarok. The only way to get there is to die in battle. Hel is reserved for those who died of old age and sickness. The Vikings and their gods were unapologetically brutal.

Among the Nordic pantheon, my favourite god (who is actually a giant) is Loki. The god of chaos, the cunning shapeshifter. However, no god is as sophisticated and charming as Odin. American Gods’ central character is Odin. The All-Father is beyond good and evil. He is the Wanderer who is willing to give an eye and suffer great pains of the gallows for wisdom and knowledge. His ravens are representation of human mind. Naturally, Viking’s chief god is also a storyteller. Viking culture acknowledged the power of narrative in shaping reality (or perception of it).[3]

I don’t believe in any god (at least not in a limited conventional religious concept of personal god) but I understand the importance of god(s). They are the symbolism arising of the unconscious. They live on because of the Werther effect.[4]

I am always impressed on how esoteric pursuits of prophets, saints, buddhas and philosophers from different cultures can articulate—by way of representations—almost universal archetypes, the psyche which are later defined by modern psychology. Ravens are beautiful animal. They are considered as sacred in many cultures. There is a belief in England that as long as there are still ravens in the Tower of London, the Kingdom will not fall apart. Raven is a totem animal in Native American religions.

I always try to justify tattoos on the pretext of self-expression. Therefore, I want my tattoos to have meaning(s) and demonstrate the depth of my personality. I tell myself that I will not be that guy who gets tattoo just for vanity. I made a promise that when I got inked, it will be more than aesthetics. Therefore, I try to include cultural, scientific and/or literary references. Then mix it with my personal experience that can be associated with the image (or words).

Therefore, I spun this story. Citing ancient mythologies, history, anthropology, sociology, psychology and other humanities science, to establish a notion of almost universal significance in symbolisms associated with ravens. Then I drew an arbitrary connection with my individual associations: my memetic experience binge watching the Vikings series during the months off from work,[5] the fact that I was born on Wednesday—Odin’s day, and my fascination with the exploration on human mind after reading Jung, Haidt, Sacks, Harris, Hesse, Wallace, and—yes—Gaiman.[6]

Nevertheless, all these arguments, these reasonings I presented, may be a sign of insecurities. Maybe I am just trying to look smart, a façade of intellectual snobbishness. Nothing has meaning, therefore everything can have a meaning. Art can be for the sake of an art. Aestheticism alone is sufficient reason to have a tattoo and there is nothing wrong with vanity. I (or anyone) can have a tattoo just because I think it looks lovely and makes me look better.

Shinya has a classy taste. I was considering to have the Hugin and Munin tattoo on my upper arm or forearm. He advised for forearm. I am glad I took his advice. Tattoos on upper arm can make a man look tacky. After the tattoo was finished, I was doubtful. I thought it may be too simple. But as I revisit my perception, I like it the more I look at it. It’s like dark chocolate, black coffee, or single malt whisky. I may not appreciate them on my first tasting, but I can stand them on longer term. Simplicity, the austere aesthetics, the main elements of Japanese culture, apparently suits me.

Hugin & Munin


[1] American Gods is another Gaiman’s book that is better when adapted to screen. The first one is Stardust. As of the time of this writing, I have not watched How to Talk to Girls at Parties and look forward to see it.

[2] Norse mythologies, were originally told as oral stories. The Vikings had no writing culture other than the runes. Later, Christianity brought writing and reading culture. Therefore, the stories of the Nordic gods and heroes were handed down but with twists and modifications by the storyteller. Gaiman, like Brothers Grimm, retold the stories in writing.

[3] My blog name is inspired by Hugin and Munin.

[4] The central theme of American Gods is that the gods live as long as people believe them and die when they are forgotten. The gods give power to people who worship them and offer them sacrificial objects. The rituals, from praying and bowing to Mecca to cheering to our favourite team in a football stadium, provide strength and communal bond to the believers. To quote one line from the American Gods film series: ‘The gods are great but people are greater. For it is in their hearts that gods are born and to their hearts that they return.’

[5] I am particularly drawn by the characters of Ragnar Lothbrok and Eckbert. They are both sophisticated, charming, and cunning. Good corrupted men.

[6] CG Jung et al, Man and His Symbols (Dell Publishing, 1964); J Haidt, the Righteous Mind: Why Good People are Divided by Religion and Politics (Pantheon Books, 2012); O Sacks, the Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat and Other Clinical Stories (Touchstone, 1998); S Harris, Waking Up: Searching for spirituality without religion (Black Swan, 2015); H Hesse, Siddhartha (Kerala Bookhouse, 2006); BA Wallace, the Attention Revolution: unlocking the power of the focused mind (Wisdom, 2006).

February 8, 2019

Glow

Glow is like Mickey Rourke’s the Wrestler but on steroids—I mean estrogen. It is a manifestation of Roland Barthes’ the World of Wrestling. Wrestling is not a sport. It is a spectacle.[1]

 

I am not into escapism stage drama offered by wrestling as spectacle, but I love the real life drama that lies behind the scene. The personal struggles of each character, the wrestlers, are relatable. A struggling brunette actress who is unable to find a role that satisfies her ideals (female roles in the 80s were mostly unimportant, often eye candies only), a blonde actress who gave up acting for the financial security of marriage—but later disillusioned by her unhappiness, a black stuntwoman whose career is stumped due to her lack of acting skills, a British immigrant from London (Bromley, actually) trying to make it in Hollywood, a limousine driving rich Jewish girl looking for fun and attention, a Hispanic girl from a family of wrestlers wanting to pursue her passion in wrestling, a South Asian girl in medical school who feels medical school is not for her, a black single mother who raised her son into a Martin Luther King scholarships recipient in Stanford, an assertive and libertine Cambodian girl, a lesbian Hispanic stripper, a former Olympic medallist with anger management issue, and a teenage Goth with daddy issue.

 

Then there are the male characters, fragile and vulnerable. A talented grumpy insecure old B-movies director, a trust fund baby producer whose only obsession is wrestling from a Republican family (with a homosexual butler/best friend from childhood who loved him albeit unrequited). A predatory local TV director and a spineless TV executive.

 

The wrestling characters are offensive: the Welfare Queen (an African American fat woman who lives off benefits), Beirut the Terrorist (an Indian, but portrayed as an Arab—because all Asian look the same to American) and Fortune Cookie (a Cambodian, but portrayed as Chinese—again, Asian faces), Britannica (British accent sounds smart, just give her a pair of glasses). The diversity of the ‘offensive’ wrestlers is then juxtaposed with Liberty Belle as the representative of the ideal of an All-American-Woman  (a smoking hot mother with Southern drawl accent who voted for Reagan—but most importantly, she is blonde) to demonstrate the paradox of America as a melting pot with a strong culture of whitewashing.

 

The off-stage and on stage characters are not-so-subtle commentaries on the deep rooted sexism and racism in America. Therefore, I think Glow is one of the ultimate art house films on liberal feminism. It is about the struggle of women in search of empowerment and reinvention of identities. As a man, the film appeals to both my inner ape and intellectual: hot girls of diverse ethnicities embracing their sexuality and strong personalities.[2] Glow is objectifying and ‘subjectifying’ women at the same time. An acknowledgement of ‘girl power’: girls come in different shapes and sizes. Each with their personality, preference and emotional baggage, must navigate a white men’s world. I found Glow satisfying for my inner Steppenwolf.[3]

 

If you’re among the 80s generation (which I am not—not that old), when the Cold War was at its height (cue Zoya the Destroya) and spandex was still fashionably sensible, you will find the cinematography and music scores nostalgic.

[1] R Barthes, Mythologies (Vintage, 2009), 3-14

[2] My favourites are Britannica (yes, I am a sucker for British accent—they do sound smart for me) and Fortune Cookie (I am also a sucker for oriental looks).

[3] H Hesse, Steppenwolf (Penguin Essentials, 2011)

November 20, 2018

Project MBC Perjuangan

MBC Community faced significant setbacks on September 2018. The Kwitang gym had to close down because the sub-lease was terminated abruptly. Moving Body Culture and Master Boot Camp announced the dissolution of their partnership after sustaining significant losses as business. It was a shocking development for a community that has been running since 2011.

 

Good thing that our community consists of resourceful individuals. Responding to the setbacks, the members organised a working committee with one purpose: to sustain the community. As a fitness community, we agreed that we can only sustain the community by ensuring the continuation of our group training sessions. We named the project: Project MBC Perjuangan.[1]

 

We discussed about how. We talked about anarchism approach where members self-organise the training sessions and hire the trainer(s), no-frills gym concept with smart locks and self-service to minimise staffing and therefore costs, etc. Ideas were thrown, argued and debunked.

 

In the end, we realised the bottom line issue is simple: we needed to find a venue that is: (i) strategically located; (ii) has adequate facilities; and (iii) with affordable rent. Issue that is so obvious to identify yet difficult to solve. Any business is property business. The Kwitang gym failed mainly because it’s a bad property.

 

We surveyed many locations. Most are either too expensive, not easily accessible, no clean toilet and shower facilities. Until we stumbled upon Pati Unus Courtyard/Walking Drums complex. The complex is located in strategic location with clean toilet and shower as well as locker facilities since it is a sport complex for basketball and futsal.

 

It is expensive to rent the basketball or futsal court. However, we do not really need to train on any court. Any place with decent size and something to attach the suspension trainers would do. Therefore, we asked whether we can rent only a corner where they store futsal goal posts. The landlady is happy to monetize an otherwise non-productive space. Coincidentally, she is also a friend of one of our members. By the virtue of mutual interests and good relationship, we got a good deal on the price.

 

While the idea of anarchy training sessions are appealing, we decided that it is best that training sessions are administered by a professional. Therefore, we gave Coach Edi of Master Boot Camp the full control over the entire business. Each of our community members will then contribute in various ways. From managing the social media accounts, promoting the training sessions to new members, or simply by showing up and train.

 

On the first day of October 2018, MBC Community had their first training session at Pati Unus Courtyard/Walking Drums. I think it is admirable that we can found an ideal venue within less than a month. I believe this shows the strength of a wonderful community that shares resources for a common purpose: an inclusive, welcoming and educating fitness enterprise.

 

MBC Community have been instrumental in achieving my fitness independence as well as developing exercise habit. I hope more people can benefit from this community based fitness trainings. No gymtimidation in our sessions. The coaches and fellow participants are friendly and helpful. Whether you are new to fitness, recuperating from an injury, or a professional athlete, the coaches will ensure that the intensity of the training programme can be adjusted to fit your individual fitness level.

 

At the time of this writing, Master Boot Camp offers both monthly subscriptions and walk-ins to ensure that the business is sustainable but not incentivised by no-show community members (unlike chain gyms). I still found their offering is of high value to my fitness budget. The training sessions are scheduled pre and post office hours, between 0600-0900 and 1830-2030. The likeliest time you’d go to the gym.[2] Virtually, it’s like going to a gym and share the costs of hiring a personal trainer. Check the Instagram account and/or contact Coach Edi by phone/text message at +628128077278 for details.

 

If MBC Community has a gender, it is definitely female. Unintentionally, most of our members are women. And we are proud that they are of diverse backgrounds. We have a fresh graduate in their 20s to a mother/business owner in her 50s who can finish Spartan Races. Some find Jakarta’s weather too hot so they prefer to wear minimalist sportswear during training. Some prefer to cover up for religious or personal style reasons.

 

Of course, men are welcomed. We do not have any gender (or any other) preference for our community membership.[3] Nevertheless, for reasons unknown, the acquisition and retention rate of our male members have never been as impressive as our female members. I have always been a minority by gender.

 

MBC Community is also LGBT friendly. We have members who are openly lesbian, gay and (possibly) bisexual. Although we have not yet have the privilege of having any transgender member.

 

On Saturday, 6 October 2018 at 0600, we held a special signature boot camp session. It has the regular sweat, swears, and banters. However, instead of having the session at the usual Kemenpora basketball court, we had it at the Pati Unus Courtyard/Walking Drums to introduce the new place to our new and old members who have not had the chance to train there.

 

It was a fine morning. I got the usual endorphin kick from that Saturday morning ritual I have been doing since 2011. I am glad that MBC Community has overcome another setback. I am optimistic that the MBC Community will be stronger in coming years to help more Jakartans to be fitter, and provide a healthy sense of belonging for its members. Pun intended.

 

Actual footage during training session.

[1] ‘Perjuangan’ is the Indonesian word for ‘struggle’. The name is a satire to one of the biggest political parties in Indonesia which split during the New Order Regime. For the record, our community is apolitical and our members have their own political preferences.

[2] Training sessions during office hour can be scheduled upon request.

[3] Actually, we prefer nice people.

October 7, 2018

Salihara Street Photography Course 2017

I took Salihara Street Photography course in 2017. I got the information from Instagram’s  sponsored ad. It was a rare moment when Instagram ad algorithms actually pushes something that add value to my life.

 

The course was coached by Erik Prasetya. I did not know him before, despite he is one of Asia’s most influential photographers. I just learned the fact only after I did my research on the course.

 

I browsed his portfolios first before reading about his background. I loved his works immediately, even before I learned that he’s a big name in street photography. I am always wary of awards and titles. While they are indicative on the quality works, awards and titles have the tendency to turn anything into a competitive sport. As in any competition, you can win because you are that good or simply your competitors are that bad.

 

I am not saying that awards and titles as well as competitions have no merit at all. They are useful for filtering information overload, to narrow down choices. But we need to keep in mind they are ‘tools’ of institutions. Their reliability is dependent on the legitimacy of the institutions which provide them. And in a less developed country (i.e. Indonesia), there is a high chance that institutions are not matured enough to be consistent in quality standards.

 

I have seen photographers who advertised his or her credentials when making a photography course. Winner of photo competitions, a high end camera brand ambassador, a magazine’s photographer of the year, etc. However, when I look at their portfolios, they are technically stunning but, I think, bland.

 

But Erik’s pictures are different. He can capture the beauty of middle-class and Jakarta, two banal subjects which loosely represent the worst of capitalism and consumerism. His works are not just pleasing to the eyes and indulging senses, but captures and touches our ‘soul’.

 

I have limited references on Indonesian photographers. Therefore, it was a rare chance to learn photography in Jakarta from a photographer with such depth. So I decided to make the investment in enrolling.

 

I do not have the ambition to become professional photographer. However, I want evolve as a photographer. I want to grow beyond taking ‘instagrammable’ pictures, beyond banal platitudes of getting ‘likes’ and surface level photographic beauty.

 

The course consisted of classes of instructions and discussions, photo hunting sessions, and creating photo essays.

 

Instructions and Discussions

 

In the classes, Erik explained the theoretical formula for street photography (facial expression, juxtaposition and metaphor). Apparently street photography is more than just ‘on the street photography’. To have all the three elements in one frame requires skill and luck.

 

He also spoke and discussed about his perspective and sensitive observations. The thinking process behind his art—coined as ‘Banal Aesthetics’—is captivating.

 

Street photography, unlike photojournalism, does not rely on capturing highly charged subjects such as war, famine, or political unrest. Therefore, the ethical issues mostly revolve around the privacy of the subjects. Street photography often requires discreetness to acquire the candidness of the moment. Nevertheless, when the shutter has clicked, the subjects are likely to notice the photographer. It is important to make the subjects feel comfortable, for ethical  and artistic (even legal) reasons. Erik has a good tip for photographer: be stylish and good looking so people are more welcoming.[1]

 

Well, we can learn to be stylish. But not everybody is good looking. Maybe good looking can be substituted by being charming?

 

The case studies on ethics in photography that we discussed, among others, was Kevin Carter’s Pulitzer winning photograph of a starving Sudanese child waited by a vulture. The photograph helped in drawing more international attention to the crisis in Sudan. Nevertheless, when a photographer photograph something, he or she made a decision not to intervene. Therefore, arguably, photographing is a passive form of endorsement. Carter committed suicide in 1994, the film ‘Bang Bang Club’ portrayed that he felt guilty and became depressed for not helping the child.

 

Erik did not photograph the 212 Protest, because he is not willing to passively endorse a regression in liberal values.

 

Photo hunting sessions

 

In street photography, we need to go beyond ‘exoticism’. I am mostly a travel photographer. Therefore, it is difficult for me to move away from acquisitive mindset towards novel and unfamiliar subjects/objects—which are a plenty when I am travelling.

 

On the other hand, street photography is, well, photography. I think the foundation of photography is to capture subjects that stimulate the interests of the photographer. Even if the subjects are neither novel nor unfamiliar, as long as they arouse the curiosity to observe deeper, I believe the photographer can produce a captivating image.

 

We are naturally defined by our interests. That is why photography projects a strong sense of individuality. For me, photography even produces a feeling of connection with the photographer. When I look at a photograph, I feel as if I am relating with and interpreting the photographer’s perspective of the world. Just like reading a writer’s words.

 

The photo hunting ground was Jakarta. We went to Kota Tua (Jakarta’s old town district) and Jakarta Mod event in Senayan. Just because I live in a city for most of my life, does not mean I can’t find anything novel, unfamiliar and interesting.

 

Kota Tua

 

The last time I visited Kota Tua was in 2010. It has always been a popular photo hunting spot in Jakarta because it has the highest concentration of the Dutch colonial buildings. At that time, however, most (if not all) of the Dutch colonial buildings were in such a sorry state. They were all crumbling. The city government does not seem to have any preservation programme of the historic site (or the programme was simply not implemented effectively). If you want to go inside of any of the buildings, you have to pay unofficial entry and photography fee to the local thugs. In my memory, the associated smell of Kota Tua circa 2010 is of urine.

 

2017 Kota Tua is revamped. I can see the city government led by Governor Ahok has done better job in implementing the preservation programme. The colonial buildings are refurbished and became fancy new restaurants, cafes and exhibition galleries. The main square is more family friendly—which means more middle class Jakartans are coming in.

 

I am all in for preservation of historical sites. However, at least in this case, the preservation also means gentrification. I am wary of the hipsters, but I am much more wary of the blandness of the middle class. 2017 Kota Tua is like London’s Leicester Square. Kota Tua square is now filled with costumed mimes, floating trick artists and caricature illustrators. Onthel (vintage bicycles) rent businesses have been there for as long as I can remember, but now they are multiplying and the bikes are brightly painted with pastel colours. This is to create high contrast with the grey old buildings. The ultimate purpose: selfies or selective colour photography trick—which everyone seems to be doing there.

 

Kota Tua square is also a reminder of how homogenic Jakarta is. Although Indonesia is ethnically diverse and Jakarta is the melting pot for Indonesians, it is difficult to spot the physical difference between ethnic groups—except for the East Indonesians and the Chinese Indonesians. Trying to differentiate the Javanese and the Bataks physically is like comparing the English and the Scandinavians.

 

The homogeneity of Jakarta extends to style. As a conservative society with limited references, Jakartans have low tolerance to non-mainstream individual style expressions. Therefore, there is little variety in terms of fashion. It is typically easy to spot which socio-economic group a Jakartan belong from the way they dress and where they hang out.

 

The sights of 2017 Kota Tua were new and unfamiliar for me. Nevertheless, it did not stimulate my curiosity. Thus, I cannot use the exoticism perspective.

 

2010 Kota Tua, I think, was charming in a raw derelict way. Anak kampung (children from nearby poor neighbourhoods) were playing football, indie band members were doing photoshoots for their album and couples their prewedding photography, punks and gangsters congregated with their comrades. It was my early day of learning photography—I still used a point and shoot. My references on photography was much more limited compared to now, but I can be sure that I would have been more interested in 2010 Kota Tua even now.

 

This confirms that I still hold on so much to the exoticism perspective. I still rely on my voyeuristic impulse in photography. I am interested in ‘lower class’ 2010 Kota Tua, because I am not a member of such class.

2017 Kota Tua

 

Senayan

 

The Jakarta Mod event was more interesting. Maybe because the subjects are segmented.

 

The interesting thing about Jakarta mods are not their obsession with Vespa mopeds, but their zeal in adopting the fashion style—which are geared for London weather. I saw many Jakarta mods proudly wore their vintage overcoat and jacket in 35 centigrade/80% humidity weather. I was sweating in plain t-shirt and shorts, so I imagine how wet they were inside.

 

It was a hot and humid day.

On obtaining juxtaposition, Jakarta is a random city. Based on my experience living here for more than 30 years, juxtapositions are almost everywhere. In fact, some juxtapositions are so common here they are perceived as the norm. I had to live abroad to be able to see Jakarta’s peculiarities.

 

Nevertheless, encountering juxtaposition and capturing it with a camera in a split second is the photographic skill that separates the professionals from the amateurs, the trained talent and the rookie. Great photographers are borderline clairvoyant in anticipating moments. Their years of experience seem to allow them to intuitively position themselves at the right place and at the right time. They have mastered the art of waiting and thinking.

 

I did encounter many juxtaposed moments both in Kota Tua and Senayan, but I failed to capture them.

 

Needless to say, I fell behind during the photo hunting session. I want to blame Jakarta for this failure. After all, Brandon Stanton of Humans of New York also failed in photographing Jakarta.[2] But some of the photographers in my class succeeded.

 

Erik consoled me that photography requires the elements of luck and patience. We only had half day. It took him  at least 5 years to photograph Jakarta and published them on his newest book Women on Street.

 

The experience made me insecure. Nevertheless, I was venturing beyond my comfort zone. I took the required path to evolve.

 

Additionally, I reconfirmed that I do not love Jakarta. Erik can photograph Jakarta well because he is in love with the Big Durian. He migrated from Sumatra. Despite Jakarta is a third world city, it is still the capital. Compared to Sumatra, Jakarta (and Java) is much more developed. Maybe as a born and bred Jakartan, I am unable to appreciate that fact.

 

Of course, I do not mean to be condescending to Erik or other Indonesian urbanisation migrants (commonly referred to as ‘utusan daerah’—region’s delegate[3]). There is more to Jakarta that attracts Erik than the bright lights and the Indonesian dream.[4] Jakarta is a peculiar city, an acquired taste. The city can be artistically stimulating if you can cope with its randomness. Also, Erik is not just an artist, he is a political activist. He participated in many protests against Soeharto’s dictatorial New Order regime. What better place to do political activism than the capital.

 

In fact, it may be me who is shallow for not being able to better appreciate Jakarta despite I can live relatively comfortably here.

Photography and Literature

 

Erik and the other 2017 class participants are also interesting individuals. We discussed topics beyond photography. From politics, literature, films, social and anthropological issues to personal life stories. Every class was enriching. I gained many references from them. I read books recommended by Erik (and a book about him), i.e.:

 

  • Mythologies by Roland Barthes;
  • Camera Lucida by Roland Barthes;
  • On Photography by Susan Sontag;
  • Estetika Banal & Spiritualisme Kritis by Erik Prasetya and Ayu Utami; and
  • Cerita Cinta Enrico by Ayu Utami

 

From the discussions and the books, I finally understood what makes certain photographers, such as Erik, able to create a depth, to give ‘soul,’ in their pictures: their taste. Technical skills of photography will make beautiful pictures. Depth or ‘soul’ is achieved with the sophistication of the photographers’ mind. As Erik pointed out, a photographer is a craftsman if he or she can create beautiful pictures. However, it takes an artist to create art.

 

I notice that one thing that indicates sophistication of the photographer’s mind is the ability to articulate their ‘art’ in words. The photographers I look up to are also writers. They have published good (even great) books or at least run quality blog.

 

I learned that ‘a picture worth a thousand words’ adage does not exempt a photographer in articulating their thoughts. It is true that words are more limited in describing a matter since they are only representation of it. However, words give form to enable better understanding on a matter. The more complex our linguistic skills, the better we are in articulating our thoughts. Subsequently, we become better in expressing and sharing them. And art is about expression and sharing.

 

The ability to articulate thoughts is also essential for the development of photography. Photography, as any work of the mind, is an intuitive process. Nevertheless, if such intuitive process can be translated—albeit only to certain extent—into a reasoning explanation, the next generation can benefit from precedents and a more methodical approach in learning photography.

 

Erik’s opined that Indonesian street photography scene is not living up to its potential. He believes that it is not because of the economy. Sri Lanka street photography scene is lively and it is also a less developed country. Erik believes the main factor in such lethargy is the lack of precedents. Many senior photographers do not produce sufficient books on photography. Precedents allow aspiring and new generation photographers to shorten their learning curves and they do not need to develop the established practices from ground zero over and over again.

 

As someone with ‘standing on the shoulders of giants’ image tattooed on my forearms, I agree with Erik.

 

Erik is a lecturer in Institut Kesenian Jakarta. He is invested in developing the street photography genre in Indonesia. He mentors his students well. Patient, approachable and encouraging, even towards difficult and entitled individuals. I am writing this entry as a testimony on how this course has added value to my life and I would recommend next courses for anyone interested in the art of observation.

 

I don’t think I have succeeded in becoming a street photographer at the end of the course. Nevertheless, it is my deficiencies that I need to fix by investing more time on my photography skills. The effort I undertake in the course itself is rewarding. I believe I have learned much and improved as a photographer in general.

 

Erik holds regular meetups for Street Photography Course alumni (2016 and 2017 classes) and created a Whatsapp group. On a critical note, I decided not to participate because there are more noises than productive discussions in the Whatsapp group. I hope this alumni group can be better curated and moderated.

‘How to take better wefies’ is a part of the curriculum. Not. Photograph by Danny Ardiono.

[1] Erik is in his 60s but you can tell that he is fit from his built (he is a wall climber). He always wear fedora hat and scarf as his signature style. He said it helps to make him look less threatening so subjects are more welcoming to him.

[2] Erik Prasetya held a group discussion at Komunitas Salihara on why Stanton failed in photographing Jakarta. Unfortunately, I did not attend.

[3] Indonesians often refers Jakarta as the capital (ibukota), while the rest of Indonesia is the regions (daerah).

[4] I think the contemporary Indonesian dream can be summed up by these external material symbols: big house, domestic helpers and baby sitter, fancy cars with chauffeurs, Western or Japanese restaurants, fast fashion, shopping malls, the newest smartphones and travel pictures abroad on Instagram.

September 27, 2018

White Rabbit Red Rabbit, Jakarta

Dear Mr Nassim Soleimanpour,

 

May I call you Nassim? After all, we have shared a journey that transcended space and time.

 

I am one of your red rabbits. I took notes as instructed, along with few others, the evening we met.

 

I believe by knowing your email address and writing this letter, I have established my credentials (as a red rabbit). But I will go further than that. I will recite your personal information:

 

Based on Gregorian calendar, you were born on [redacted] (I did not catch the Islamic calendar date, sorry). I forgot whether your eyes are green or blue. But I do remember that you are hairy. Your blood type is [redacted].

 

You wrote the script, the medium of our meeting, on [redacted] in Shiraz. You were unable to travel abroad because you refused to serve in the national service therefore denied of the rights to hold Iranian passport.

 

Now, allow me to introduce myself.

 

My name is Suar Sanubari. I was born on [redacted]. I have brown skin, very little hair on my body—almost like a dolphin. My eyes and hairs are black. My blood type is also [redacted].

 

I am an Indonesian. I too am neither upset or proud with my nationality.

 

We met in Jakarta, at Teater Salihara, on Sunday, 26 August 2018 at 16:15 (GMT +7). Your medium, the actress, was Ms Sita Nursanti. You were speaking in Indonesian when we met. There were around 140 people (or rabbits, if you prefer) at that time. You were given front row seat, lesehan (sit on the floor, pillow seat provided).

 

I never heard about you or White Rabbit Red Rabbit until Saturday, 25 August 2018. A friend posted the script’s performance on that day on her Instastory. It was her second time meeting you. The first time she met you was in Edinburgh Fringe Festival.

 

I checked Salihara’s website and googled about the script. The only information I got is that White Rabbit Red Rabbit is an experimental theatrics where the solo actor perform your script impromptu. The props are limited to a vial of substance, two glasses and a ladder. That caught my interests.

 

I also read that big names such as Whoopi Goldberg and Stephen Fry have become your medium. That’s when I know your low fidelity self-expressions have made you big.

 

It was or is—the tenses are confusing with time transcended, especially for Indonesian native speaker (Indonesian grammar structures are very simple: no tenses)—ingenious of you to devise a medium of thought as a mean to escape your constraints. Indonesia is the 50th country you have travelled to.

 

Since I plan to make this an open letter, I don’t want to deny your future audience’s the profound experience in meeting you for the first time (don’t worry, I will also redact our personal information for the public version).

 

I will only say this about your play:

 

Thank you for creating it, to meet us, rabbits, and stimulate our mind with your thoughts. Your art, your means of escapism, convinced me again that the longest way to die, i.e. to live a little longer is still the best way to die—the one you call the 18th way of suicide,.

 

Your 2010 self decided to create White Rabbit Red Rabbit to channel your frustration in life situation. To express your thoughts on politics, societal norms and nature of our existence. To break your mind from the constraints that was imposed on your physical body. You could have chosen not to bother, not to deal with the hardships of life. But you did not, you decided to endure and create.

 

I hope you find the freedom that your 2010 self was yearning in Berlin. I hope we all have the courage to choose the 18th way of suicide time and time again. We can spend the time we endured well, if we keep reminding ourselves that life is not constant. That life changes, for the better and the worse.

 

Every time I am in the worse part of life, I remind myself the transiency of the circumstances and look back to the better days that have been, such as watching—no, being with you at your play.

 

Thank you. Again.

 

Suar

Teater Salihara

 

September 23, 2018

Malta, the Land of the Sea

Before I met my Maltese friends in London, my association of the word ‘Malta’ is limited to the chocolate wafer balls (I am sorry Edward and Nerissa!). I knew it is somewhere in the Mediterranean, but I thought it is a city in Greece.[1]

 

Malta is a small city state, it was a British colony. It’s a tax heaven country. You can get a Maltese passport if you invest certain sum there. I can’t help to think it’s the equivalent of Singapore. However, even though both are sunny little port islands, British colonies, international capitalists haven and tourists destination, the cultures are starkly different. Singapore boast modernity, order and precision. Malta is ancient and laidback.

 

Malta was not on the top of our European-countries-to-visit list because of my lack of knowledge in geography. However, when Ed and Neri invited us to their wedding (that also became our reunion event with our QMUL friends), Malta climbed to the priority list.

 

Arrival in Malta

 

Since there is no flight from Jakarta to Malta, we combined our trip there with the Netherlands and Austria trips. We took Air Malta from Vienna to Luqa International Airport.

 

I read Air Malta has good safety record (naturally, being a European airline).[2] As for services, I don’t think our return flights met full-board airlines standards. It is not Ryan Air, but the seats are pretty tight even for Asian size. There was barely any room between my knees and the front seat. A group of Maltese footballers only sat during take-off and landing. They preferred standing during the entire 2 hours 30 minutes flight. Christian my tall (2 metres) German friend said he had sit diagonally. They gave us cold  sandwich for in-flight meal. The only available in-flight entertainment was the airline magazine.

 

We arrived on time. We waited for Morgan, our French friend. When we saw her, we were happy to see each other again after 2 years yet everything felt like yesterday. We took a taxi together to Saint Paul’s Bay. Thus began our Maltese reunion.

 

Bugibba (Saint Paul’s Bay)

 

Dolmen Resort Hotel was the venue of the wedding party. Since Neri’s dad works for the hotel, we got a special room rate. Our friends stayed there for their entire trip to Malta. We decided to be nomadic and change accommodations every night because we wanted to explore Malta more.

 

Bugibba is where I had my first swim in the Mediterranean sea. Unlike tropical waters, the sea is calm. It feels more salty. It was easier to float, although I am not a good swimmer.

Dolmen Resort pool and sea view

It was also my first time attending a Mediterranean wedding. It was a large wedding feast, by European standards. There were 500 guests, from all over the world (to quote Ed, ‘from places as far as Australia and Indonesia!’). Before Ed and Neri’s, my first-hand knowledge on wedding parties was limited to Indonesian weddings (which are boring).[3]

Sunset and fireworks. People drank, danced, even a moshed a little. Even the parents and the senior guests and the kids. The ingenious part was when sandals were distributed for the ladies (to change from their stilettos). So everyone could dance. The band was awesome—they did not take any break. Ed said the band name is Red Electrick and they are the best band in Malta. Most songs sung were in Maltese (I remember there were some English songs, like Viva La Vida and Wonderwall—other than the fact they are classics, they remind me that it is London, the capital of Cool Britannica, that united us), but the language of the rhythms are universal. Fuelled with free flow drinks and food, our hive switch was on. It was a wet hot night and we lost ourselves to Mediterranean happiness.

 

When a guest gave speeches, it was always something personal and, therefore, moving. I had the honour to represent Edward and Neri’s QMUL friends in giving that speech (I was forced, the group unanimously appoint me). I wrote a draft on Evernote, but the battery of my phone died just before the speech.

 

Now, public speaking is not easy for me. The fact that I am the only Asian in the party has made me more self-conscious. On stage, the feeling multiplies. Fortunately, I got helpful tips from a good public speaking training. The most helpful ones are these: (1) be yourself; and (2) use silence to communicate and capture attention. In order to be myself, I set my mindset that this is not about me trying to impress people by being Obama or Soekarno. This is about sharing and expressing our empathetic joy to Edward and Nerissa’s happiness.

 

I think I said something about how glad I was to make friends in London. The big city can be alienating and lonely if you have no friends. After the speech, we delivered our main gift to Ed and Neri: a video of us congratulating them in our native tongue. We thought it is nice to celebrate our intercontinental friendships with an audio visual medium. I won’t win a Toastmaster cup that night, but I think my speech had the intended emotional effect.

 

It was a time of our life. I can still remember the Mediterranean sunset, the fireworks, the sea breeze. Reconnected with my London friends. Even a possibly racist bartender could not spoil my mood.[4]

Intercontinental reunion

Now, despite all the wonderful things Bugibba has given me, I would not visit or even stay there if not because of the wedding. It is a touristy area—not in a good way i.e. not a classic globetrotter destination. It is like Kuta and Legian. But instead of inconsiderate Australians, it was full of inconsiderate British holidaymakers who just want to escape the British weather.[5] The loud tourists with tribal tattoo (sans meaning) and fake tans combined with modern resort styled buildings made me decide that Saint Paul’s Bay is just not my kind of place.

 

Nevertheless, I soon learned that I should not judge Malta from Saint Paul’s Bay. Just as no one should not judge Bali only from Kuta and Legian.

 

Mdina

 

On our first night in Malta, we visited Mdina. The Silent City is extremely charming. It is like Moroccan medinas, but well-maintained and safe to walk at night. It was night time so most of the grand sights, such as the Cathedral, were already closed.  On the bright side, there were very few people and the city was beautifully lit.

 

We had dinner at Fontanella. The café is sitting on top of the city walls with wonderful view. It was our first reunion dinner and we were happy to know some things remain the same.

Fontanella Vinum

We walked around the city and just talked. Catching up for the time we have lost by being countries and continents apart. Morgan was (and still is, at the time of writing) single and decided to play a naughty phone booth game with our gay Brazillian friend Cassio.

 

We retired to our guesthouse Point de Vue, it located just outside the Mdina city walls. The guesthouse building is Mediterranean style. Still charming despite facing directly to a parking lot and petrol station. Our room has a view to the other side, so we had the better view (of local countryside). The host is wonderful guy, we got a taste of Maltese hospitality.

Mdina Gate

Marsaxlokk

 

We had some free time before the wedding. Therefore, we visited Marsaxlokk—a local fishing village. We wanted to go to Saint Peter’s Pool. Unfortunately, we did not have enough time. Therefore, we settled for walking around the village.

Marsaxlokk

There was a fishing boat where the captain and the crews were minding their nets onboard. The captain has two dogs. He let me play throw and fetch with his dogs. I always get a dose of extra positivity when playing with dogs, cats, elephants and toddlers.

 

I chatted with the captain and the crews. They became more interested when we said we’re Indonesians. The crews are Arabs, they are Muslims. Given the reputation of Indonesia as the largest Muslim country, they asked this question that seems must be asked by Muslims to anyone with ‘Muslim look’[6]: ‘Are you Muslims?’ (they asked in Arabic, the captain acted as an interpreter)

 

Religiously speaking I am not. And I agree with Sam Harris that we can’t build a genuine connection with fellow human beings by lying.[7] Nevertheless, I do have Muslim background—being born and grew up in a Muslim family in predominantly Muslim country— and I did subscribe to the belief in my past life (I can still recite Al-Fatihah verbatim). Therefore, culturally speaking I am a Muslim.[8] I would love to explain this, but my time was limited and there is risk such explanation would offend them. Plus it was Eid. So we said yes and greeted them with salaam as well as ‘Eid Mubarak.’

 

The crew replied our greetings, happily. However, they had a follow up question: why does my partner does not wear hijab? (she was wearing halter top and short summer pants). When we just smiled, the captain, thinking maybe his crews question has gotten too personal, dismissed the question.[9] We said our goodbyes and thanked them for the lovely chat. The captain, I believe in good faith, yelled ‘Allahu Akbar!’

 

Unfortunately, it had the unintended effect. I felt extremely uneasy. Despite the actual meaning of the words are ‘God is great,’ the words have become a rallying cry for the Islamists. The cry is associated with the last scream of suicide bombers before claiming their 72 virgins. And we were in a tourist destination. I saw heads turned to our directions.

Fishermen of Marsaxlokk

We walked around again. Until we saw another fishing boat, but this time the crews have South East Asian look. I thought they are Filipino or Thai. But when I spoke Indonesian with my partner, the sailors said ‘Orang Indonesia juga?’

 

I am surprised to meet Indonesian migrants in Malta. I have worked with Justice Without Borders (JWB), an NGO advocating migrant workers’ rights, as a pro bono client. I have read research papers and reports on Indonesian migrants and Malta is definitely not a common destination for Indonesian migrant workers.

 

The sailors offered us cold water, much appreciated since we have walked under the Maltese summer sun. They told us their stories. They are from Tegal (but they did not speak in Ngapak accent). Naturally, what drove them to work as fishermen in Malta is the much better pay compared to working in Indonesia. They send their hard earned Euros back to Indonesia by cash. If any of their friends is returning home, they’d trusted the cash to the friend. This method saves the money from unfavourable currency exchange rate and international transfer charges.

 

I gave them my contact and JWB. In case they need legal assistance.

 

Indonesian Sailors in Malta

We had lunch at Tartarun, an excellent seafood restaurant. We had the catch of the day. Now, as this is a fancy restaurant, they throw away the fish head. We wish they had asked us first, my partner really likes fish heads (yes, it is common in Asia to eat the entire parts of the meal). I wished we could drink a bottle white wine with the meal, but I drove to and from Marsaxlokk. With Maltese traffic, I need to be as alert as if I am driving in Jakarta.

 

Valetta

 

Valetta is a World Heritage Site. The city itself is a sight.

 

We did not go inside the grand sights (we did visit the Barrakka Gardens, but it was partially closed for private event—a wedding). I wanted to visit the Saint John’s Co-Cathedral but it was Sunday. Therefore, the only way to visit it is by attending the Mass. It’s already almost noon when we arrived in Valetta. Plus, I learned from watching Vienna Boys’ Choir at Hofburgkapelle that Masses are boring.

Barakka Gardens

Therefore, we just walked a lot and I think I managed to take many beautiful pictures. There is something in the Mediterranean architecture, sun and sea breeze that makes people happy. It seems the warmth of the sun is reflected on the land and people.

 

We had lunch at Kantina Café at Saint John’s Square. Cassio was the one who chose the place. He said they serve the best sandwich he ever had in his life (he visited Malta in 2015 during the LLM). I am not much of a sandwich person, but the sandwich I had was great.

 

Morgan treated us with afternoon drinks at one of the restaurants in the Valetta Waterfront. I had a Negroni. The Waterfront is a well-manicured tourist area. This is where the cruise ships dock themselves. A little sterile for my taste (and there was this one gigantic cruise ship blocking the sea view), but I loved every moment spent there with my friends.

 

There is a beach where the local kids were swimming. The beach has shabby houses built around it. I think it’s opposite the Grand Harbour and near the fish market. I loved the beach. I think it’s bohemian charming.


We had our farewell dinner at Rampila. We got a nice table inside, a cave-like wine cellar. I tried rabbit meat for the first time (because it is a signature Maltese cuisine). I just realised despite rabbits look cute and cuddly, their meat is not soft and juicy like beef or pork. All those hopping around made rabbits meat muscled up and dry.

 

We took our friends to the taxi stand and waved them goodbye as they returned to their hotel in Bugibba. My heart was full but sad knowing I don’t know when I can see them face to face again. Good thing we live in the internet and social media age. It is just one tap away to reach them and it is so easy to plan for another reunion somewhere around the globe.

 

We retired to our room in Casa Asti. Another charming Mediterranean style guest house run by a lovely old couple.[10] It is located just 5-minutes walk from the bus terminus. It is a perfect base to explore Valetta and even the entire Malta.

Leaving Malta

 

On the last day in Malta, I contemplated on the fact that I did not have the chance to visit and swim in one of Malta’s best beaches and lagoons such as the Blue Lagoon, Saint Peter’s Pool or the Blue Hole. The Azure Window has fallen off at the time of our visit. So I will never have the chance to see it again. Ever.

 

Yet, as Sir Elton John sung: ‘there is more to see, than can ever be seen.’ I shifted my focus on how privileged I am to be enlightened from ignorance, to see and to know people and places.

 

We took a taxi to Luqa International Airport. It was almost an hour drive, so we had a chance to get a taxi driver wisdom. The taxi driver has that Italian mafia look. He talked about prostitution in Malta. He is single and openly admits that he regularly employ the services of sex workers.

 

Prostitution is legal in Malta, but loitering is not. Competition for local sex workers have been hard because Chinese sex workers are entering the local market. Running a brothel is illegal in Malta. However, Chinese sex workers work in massage parlours. They are cheaper and the marketed aggressively. Many massage parlours contact hotel guests offering their services.

 

The taxi driver said that Malta, as in any conservative society, is hypocritical on the issues. When a man employs the services of a female prostitute, the blame is put more on the supply side for ‘wrecking families.’ The local sex workers find it more difficult to market their services with laws against loitering and the stigma.

 

He then asked whether it is easy to buy sex in Indonesia since it is a Muslim country. Oh yes, it is very easy to buy sex despite prostitution is illegal. There is an unofficial red light district in West Jakarta. Where lines of clubs, massage parlours and karaoke offer sex services. It is a fact that we call a ‘public secret.’ Naturally, complex issues of human trafficking and underage sex workers intertwined in this illegal industry.

 

The taxi driver wisdom we acquired in Malta seems to be a prelude to our education on prostitution in Amsterdam, our next stop in the 2017 Eurotrip.

 

Practicalities

Getting around Malta

Malta is a small country. Even the capital Valetta can be explored on foot (in fact, it’s the best way to do so). However, intercity transports are limited to bus, taxi or self-drive car hire.

 

Taxi

The taxi booked via taxi stands near bus terminals are fixed fare. However, you will have to negotiate the fare for taxi booked by phone or hotel.

 

Bus

I read that if you are based in a main city, such as Valetta, bus is easily accessible. However, they are slow compared to other transport. I did not take the bus so I can’t say much about this mode of transportation

 

Self-drive car hire

Self-drive car hire offers the most flexibility. Our Maltese friends told us that we need to be brave enough to drive in Malta. Maltese drivers have reputation of being notoriously careless. The good news (for us) is that people drive on the left side of the road, like in the UK and Indonesia.

 

I am trained to drive in Jakarta, so we took the risk of dealing with Maltese carelessness.

 

We rented a KIA Picanto from Blue Bird Malta. A local car hire company in Bugibba, referred by Nerissa. There are big car hire companies operating in Malta such as Avis and Hertz, but their rates fluctuate depending on off-peak or high season. It was summer when we visited Malta, so Blue Bird’s flat rate was much more economical.

 

Blue Bird’s office may seem a little dodgy. A small office space full of men with hard knock looks, just smoking and chillin’. The one who prepared the papers and the car for us even ask whether I want to sell my Indonesian international driver licence. But all in all, we had a seamless no-bull transaction.

 

I was not involved in any auto accident. Come to think of it, Jakarta’s traffic may be chaotic but traffic jams reduce the risk of fatal accidents (at least if you are driving a car. For two wheelers, the risk is high!). Malta’s intercity road almost have no traffic. I rarely had to deal with careless drivers, but when I did, it was in high speed situation.

 

When we went to Mdina from Valetta, Fabian the German helped me navigate the road with Google map. However, there were some glitches in our cooperation. Apparently, Fabian was a little confused because he is used to drive with Continental European[11] style, on the right side of the road. This seemingly banal fact made me smile and laugh. Again, travel amused me by reminding that there are many ways to do things, not just one way.

 

Etiquette

Malta is a conservative society. It is a strongly Catholic country. Therefore, despite it is a beach holiday destination in Europe, bikinis are only acceptable near the beach or swimming pool. Women are even expected to cover their shoulders in churches.

 

 

[1] My partner once had a Maltese shipping company as a client. They needed to legalise a document in Indonesian Embassy, but there is none in Malta. Therefore, they had to send the document to the Indonesian Embassy in Athens. However, there is an Indonesian consulate in Valetta now.

[2] Lonely Planet Malta & Gozo, 6th Edition (February 2016).

[3] The bride and groom just stand before a decorated stage receiving handshakes and kisses from rows and rows of people (who are mostly unfamiliar with them) like a feudal king and queen. Large weddings by Indonesian standard have at least 1,000 guests. Unless you are a politician, can you imagine how onerous it is to greet that many people?

[4] A bartender in the open bar by the pool skipped serving me several times. The queue was London pub style, with no rigid form of lines but all customers understand the civilised way of letting the customer before them order first. I love this British politeness. However, one particular bartender seemed to keep forgetting my drinks. First time, I thought he was overwhelmed (it was crowded and busy after all). So I just reminded him. But he kept forgetting. And whenever I ordered gin and tonic, he always forget to put a lemon in it but not for other guests. I had to ask for the lemon. I thought it is funny he kept forgetting me. I remember Trevor Noah’s joke about Idris Elba as the next James Bond: a black spy will stand out in crowds in Europe. I clearly stood out from the crowd as the only Asian guy in the party. See Trevor Noah: Afraid of the Dark (Netflix, 2017).

[5] My Australian and British friends, please note my emphasis on the word ‘inconsiderate’. Most of you are awesome!

[6] The idea of Muslim as a race is a misnomer. As Ali A. Rizvi explained as a matter of fact, no one can convert out being black (or brown), but one can change or lose their religious belief.  See AA Rizvi, the Atheist Muslim: a journey from religion to reason (St. Martin’s Press, 2016).

[7] S Harris, Lying (Four Elephant Press, 2013).

[8] I think the best term for people like me is an Atheist Muslim as coined by Ali A. Rizvi. See AA Rizvi fn (5).

[9] My partner never wore hijab, even when she was still religious. In fact, many Muslim women—the moderates and the liberals— don’t.

[10] Maybe that explain why email response was slow and a little unclear when we made reservation. However, a phone call settled everything.

[11] It always amuses me when I heard a British referred to their continental neighbor ‘Europeans’. I do not think a separating body of water referred as a channel or the size of British Isles warrant Britain a continent, like Australia. I still view the British as Europeans. That’s why I prefer the terms ‘Continental Europeans’ for non-British Europeans. But I get it. Identity and culture are abstract and self-defined, sometimes arbitrarily.

September 3, 2018

On Developing and Keeping Regular Exercise Habit

Scientific facts confirm the short and long term benefits of regular exercise. The practical question is how do you make time for it? This is my take on addressing that question.

 

I have been exercising regularly since 2009. Exercise has become a habit, a necessity. I enjoy exercising in a sense I enjoy my work—not always excited about it, but feels rewarded when I got to finish it. However, I still find keeping up with the commitment to exercise at least 4 times a week a struggle.

 

Yes, it is easier after I have developed the habit. Now I only need to tread the fine line between justifiable and bullshit excuses. ‘No excuse’ or ‘beast mode’ mentality may sound like winners’ mentality. However, those motivational jargons cannot be applied without context.

Know yourself, understand your interests

 

Fitness is an investment. As in any investment, there are costs in making it. No matter how much ‘willpower’ I have, my inner forces have limitations to the external forces. I have to constantly manage my resources (especially time and money), making concessions and trade off, for fitness. How I negotiate with the said external forces (i.e. life’s unique circumstances) is a personal choice. I can only invest what I can afford and proportionate to my goal.

 

A key principle in negotiation is to identify and focus on your ‘interests’. Do not focus on what the other party gets or does. Therefore, the first thing I need to understand is my ‘why I decide to commit to exercise regularly?’ My generic answer is to be healthy. I asked another why, ‘why do I want to be healthy?’ Then I came up with: because I want to enjoy life. I want to travel further, I want to play harder, I want to fuck, I want to eat good food, I want to learn more, I want to read more, I want to be productive and create, I want to be attractive, I want to feel good about myself.

 

In sum, my fitness goal is to have the confidence that fitness can give at work or at play.

 

Therefore, while I take fitness as priority, I do not make it the purpose of my life. I take fitness as a foundation to build a better life and to pursue my interests (which are diverse since I am a dilettante of many subjects). How much I want to commit my resources for fitness is influenced by my ‘fitness goal’. There are others who make fitness as their purpose, such as professional trainers, athletes, emergency responders, and warriors. Their fitness regime and diet will naturally be harder and stricter than me.

 

Knowing my fitness goal is essential to know what are my ‘principles’—the non-negotiable things. That way I can design the rules that support my fitness commitment and know when I can make exceptions.

 

I am an average urban professional. I still have to work in the office, attend meetings, reply emails etc. It is not feasible to compare my training regime and schedule with the fitness professionals. Their trainings are big part of their job. I simply cannot train as hard as them. Therefore, my training schedule is not as frequent and intense as them.

 

Helpful nudges

 

Yes, motivating myself to exercise regularly requires will power. However, I can lessen the burden on my will power by ‘buying’ nudges. I bought nice fitness attires, fancy gym membership, professional trainer sessions, group training classes, healthier food that taste good. Anything that can make fitness less a hassle. I found it easier for me to keep up with fitness commitment now than when I was 21, simply because I have more money now. I said easier, not easy. Money can’t buy everything.

 

I think the best nudge investment I made was hiring a professional trainer when starting. I needed to know how to do the moves in correct form as to avoid injury. It was expensive, especially with my income at that time, but worth in the long term. I was more motivated to keep my gym schedule since I would lose a lot of money if I slack off (those sessions have expiration date!). However, the return was fitness independence. After understanding the basics from the sessions and consultations, I can train with or without trainer. I can research and apply fitness programmes because I have understood the basic principles. This allows me to be flexible in my training schedule.

 

We are all bound by space and time. Therefore, location is always a significant factor in developing and maintaining fitness as a habit. I don’t live in the city centre, so I need to weigh in commute time whenever I schedule my exercise (especially with Jakarta’s traffic). I normally go to the gym after work, therefore I tend to come home late after exercising. Fortunately, I don’t have children. That’s a huge burden lifted on my schedule.

 

Big chain gyms are not my favourite place to exercise. They are expensive and often overcrowded. However, I found them the most convenient and, therefore, justify the cost for me. They have multiple locations and accessible anytime they are open. I need such flexibility. I found it is easier to bring myself to the gym when they are walking distance from the work place or home.

 

Atmosphere also an important nudge. I have a TRX suspension trainer and built a workout station for bar trainings. I can train at home, but I still prefer to train at gym—just like I prefer to work at the office although I can work from home. When I am already at the gym, I will be less likely to call off the training session simply because I have made the trip there. And seeing other people exercising motivates me to exercise. At home, I can easily find excuses to procrastinate.

 

I think the best place to exercise is local independent gym with group training sessions. Usually the members inorganically evolve into a community. This kind of gym provides a healthy dose of competitive motivation as well as the sense of belonging which make training sessions pleasant. We are ultrasocial animals after all.

 

I am a regular to Moving Body Culture’s Master Boot Camp sessions. Every Saturday at 0600, we ‘congregate’ in sweat and swear. I like the friendly, mild-mannered and non-intimidating way the trainings are delivered (no ‘Beast Mode On!’ type yelling here). The coaches are helpful and great source of fitness references. Training sessions are often intense but we joke around a lot.

 

Experiment and adapt

 

I experimented on how my body will take the fitness regime. I notice that I often fell ill if I exercise in a row for three days. Therefore, I need to have a rest day after two consecutive days of training. I prefer free style trainings, but once a while I take weight training to develop muscles and Yoga to train my flexibility. I need cardio, but I don’t like running, so I take up boxing. I try new training methods and participate in fitness events. These experiments not only allow me to discover which fitness regime that I like in order to develop a sustainable regular exercise schedule (it’s easier to stay committed to what we like, obviously). They are also good to ward off boredom from routine.

 

In life, something will always come up. Situations such as ‘I need to meet a deadline’, ‘A friend invites me to hang out’, ‘I need to leave home now if I don’t want to get stuck in traffic’ are inevitable dynamics. I have to decide whether to let go my fitness schedule or just adopt a ‘no excuse’ attitude. When treading the fine line between justifiable and bull shit excuses, I need to look into my own values to decide. For example, I ask myself ‘Is it a professional manner not to meet a deadline? No.’ Then I apply adaptability to the situation: ‘Can I negotiate the deadline?’ or, alternatively, ‘Can I reschedule the training to meet my fitness commitments.’

 

I do not want to choose a job that prohibits me to have time to exercise regularly despite the pay is alluring. I need money—I even spent a good portion of my budget for fitness. Nevertheless, we all know that health is the most important asset. We only have one body for our entire life, at least until there is a breakthrough in life science that allows us to have an indestructible or substitute body. We need to take care of our body. There is no point in wearing and tearing it to the extreme just for generating external wealth.

 

Performance based fitness and aestheticism

 

Coach Carlo Tamba[1] of Moving Body Culture introduced me to the term ‘performance based fitness.’ The philosophy is simple: focus on improving fitness performance, not mere aesthetics. This approach does not emphasise on before/after selfies. Improvement is measured in the improvement of how our body perform better in terms of endurance, strength, power, speed, agility, coordination, flexibility, balance, etc. I am a subscriber to this philosophy. I think by focusing on incremental improvements, rather than aesthetic results, makes the process more enjoyable. Of course, improvement on fitness performance directly translate on the improvement of bodily aesthetic. However, I will not be frustrated or intimidated if I don’t have a male model/swimmer body within 3 months as advertised by those fitness magazines.

 

I do want six pack abs. Nevertheless, not as much as I love good food. I like to drink and party sometimes. I am not one of those guys who are genetically blessed with default athletic body (who can get to six pack abs just by training). On the other hand, I do want to look good. I may be superficial: I link my self-esteem with my outer appearance. While there are more to a person than meets the eyes, I think how I look represents how I want to be viewed and view everyone: beautiful. I read that preservation of self-image is good for emotional well-being.[2] Therefore, I need to strike a balance between enjoying myself and not to look like a pig.

 

Fortunately, it’s not that difficult to strike a balance between good life and fitness. I found that good food is slow food. Not gorengan, instant noodles or chain restaurants’ fried chicken and cheeseburgers. I like my coffee black, my chocolate dark. I hate soda and love water. I am not a dessert person, I am a main course person. Although I still indulge in wine, whisky and other liquors, I do not drink simply to get drunk like when I was younger.

 

I was not born this way, I liked junk food and excess sugar in my past life. However, my taste developed as my fitness habit.

 

By exercising regularly, I need more energy. I can feel it when my food is not producing sufficient energy. I learned the different between satiated and full. Junk food has little or zero nutrients. It can make us full, but not satiated. While good food I enjoy has certain level of nutrients to satiate me (of course, there are still less healthy elements otherwise they would not be fun). Satiation energise.

 

Therefore, I have to choose food that energise me and let go of the junk food. When we live without something for long enough, we adapt and forget about it. This also applies the junk food we crave. Thus begin the benevolent cycle of well-being.

 

I found that exercising regularly made me a better person. I do not treat my body as a mere transport vessel for my head anymore. Physical training is also mental training. When my body is strong, I feel strong. Strong feels good. Good feels happy. After all, happiness and pleasures are simply neurochemical reactions. And this is the real reward.

Preserving my self-image.

[1] Carlo also runs a blog. Don’t let his religiosity put you off, he’s a decent guy. Take it from me, an irreligious person.

[2] D Goleman, Emotional Intelligence: Why it can matter more than IQ (Bantam, 2006).

August 12, 2018