Love: [Un]forgettable March 10, 2010
Posted by ssiregar in : My Trails , add a commentIt was a hectic afternoon…
I was squashed in the middle of a flock of passengers who were passionately to get off the train.
Twenty some thing people were in front of me and about the same number behind me.
I was in the middle of the middle row…the median of the set of people …
The train stopped.
I got off …
It was only fifteen steps, I was still on the quay, had not reached the stairs yet,
when suddenly an old man turned around, ran to my direction and frenziedly screamed,
“Oh no… I lost something!”
Automatically, I stepped aside giving the old man some space.
“My wife … I lost her .. she is still in the train …!” He cried.
A soft voice came, “I am here!”
I turned my head and saw a woman at the same age with the panicky white-haired man waved.
She smiled, came closer to her husband and seized his hand, as if she said, “You will not lose me, I will not let you, I will make sure of it!”
… Well, love indeed was in the air …
[Un]forgettable in every way
And forever more, that’s how you’ll stay
That’s why, darling, it’s incredible
That someone so [un]forgettable
Thinks that I am [un]forgettable too
Nationalism and Solidarity at the (pirated) DVD movie stool February 4, 2010
Posted by ssiregar in : My Trails , 2commentsIntentionally my friend and I stopped at the pirated DVD movie stool that evening …
The vendor greeted and grinned.
These couple weeks we have already become pals.
I asked for the most tearful films … 3 pieces for 20,000 rupiahs (3 pieces for least than 1.5 euro) - What a trade …
From his great collections, he pull out some Academy Awards, Golden Globe…other well-known (I know and/or I never heard of) film award movies … Hollywood and/or other English dubbed or subtitled …
Movies starred by famous and/or unknown superb actors.
“This is an excellent sad movie…!” He guaranteed.
“Does it have a happy-ending?” I spoke out my ridiculousness.
“Of course not!”
I took the DVD.
I have planned to have swollen dry eyes this weekend …
He continued browsing his disc racks.
“This is also good … Russian-Italian movie!” I went with his choice.
My companion that stood beside commented on how weird my choice was
“This is based on a best seller of Spanish novelist!”
We continued dealing…
Another movie picked
“How about Korean film? Korean best known for its great romantic tragic stories!”
He pointed to the other side of his wood shelves.
This time, I skipped the suggestion…
“Do you have Indonesian movies?” I asked.
The vendor shook his head …
“No… I do not sell any Indonesian (pirated) DVD movies! Never!”
Well, why?
“Do not have heart to do so … Pirating is very bad for the Indonesian movie (industry) …! We have to support and to encourage Indonesian movies!”
But it does not harm the Hollywood? the Korean? (or other International movies industry)???
He smiled as the conclusion drawn…
My grandpa is my baby siSter January 6, 2010
Posted by ssiregar in : My Trails , 2commentsDuring a warm close family reunion in the last holiday season.
While a handsome baby boy presented, a proud newly mom announced …
“.. and … everybody …. you know what?”
What?
“I got a perfectly great baby siSter of my baby!”
Another baby? Awesome!!!
Yippee!!!
I clapped my hands extending a big applause.
Some stared at me awkwardly
???
“Yes, my Dad … !” The mother smile victoriously.
I stupefied…
“Yup, he takes care of the baby more patiently than anyone else!”
Oh …
“He does not mind even to be smelt like all the baby’s stomach contents”
Oh … No… I almost screamed.
As many Indonesians still do, this young mother could not differentiate baby siSter from baby siTter.
That’s how we could always have our grandpa as our baby siSter.
Come on!
My Mom who sat beside me, felt the arousal of my sharp criticism.
Elegantly, she pinched me … softly leveled down my disapproval.
So the entertaining failure continues …
Now whoever you are - male or female, you could be someone’s baby siSter!
What a marvelous gift …
[to all the grandpas out there]
If Mary chose her own Joseph … ? December 15, 2009
Posted by ssiregar in : My Trails , add a commentAn invitation to the Sunday School Christmas this evening brings alive my favorite Christmas memory, those of my primary school Christmas play.
As I remember, through our school Christmas seasons, we always had Noni as our Mary…
A petite figured sweet girl with her very long hair nicely matched the image of The Holy Mother.
With her feminine smile …, she was a perfect choice…
For Joseph, the simple faithful carpenter - chosen as a worldly father to Lord Jesus - we had Bina, the most handsome (I remember all the girl said “yes” to his beauty) boy in the class (or in the school) … Hmmm… 
Our Mary - Noni - positively confirmed this opinion and declared it openly.
One day Bina was sick and did not come to school and because of it, he could not make it to the play rehearsal. Miss Lydia our teacher assigned Amri as the substitute. Amri was also quite popular: sweet and smart…. But compare to Bina, he was like the moon compared to the sun…
Amri was about to take his new role, leaving his guys and sheep
He was leveled up, from the poor shepherd to be one amongst the famous fathers in the history; when suddenly our Mary screamed… “No, I will not be Mary with him as Joseph … I only want Bina for my Joseph!”
Miss Lydia calmed Noni down, “Yes, Noni… Yes… Surely we will have Bina as Joseph… don’t worry … Amri is only in charge for this rehearsal!”
Our beautiful teacher guaranteed.
Our Mother Mary wiped her tears.
The rehearsal went smoothly.
Miss Lydia’s promise turned to be true.
In the Christmas celebration, we had again the most handsome Joseph whose arms tightly held by our firm-hearted Mary
[[It was a great relieve that Our Divine Mary was every contrary to our little Noni.
Mother Mary was definitely not a choosy person.
She though questioned the choice God made upon her ("Why Me, Lord?" She wondered)
but then showed her fully endless submission to The Almighty...
As She proclaimed her willingness by simply said to God:
"Be it done unto me according to Thy word",
She stepped in to her role in one of the most miraculous events happened in the Universe: Christmas]
[This note is also for little JP who was really proud to be a Christmas sheep ... Whose baa's and mehs' sounds are among the most original in the performance world
and to preserve my memory of playing (frequently) as angel in the dramas, not as the leader one, not as Gabriele, not as Michael, just as a nameless little angel in the second row who busily thought about her white beautiful long dress, her silk-like gloves, her silver wand with star and her short yet impressive line, "fear not!" ]]
Merry Christmas!!!
who loves the rain December 7, 2009
Posted by ssiregar in : My Trails , 1 comment so farThe rainy season is now approaching
Morning may be glamorously blessed with sunshine
Then at the close of the day:
the sky turns gray, the rain falls, the thunder screams, the lightning scratches
The rainy season is now approaching
It reminds me of two guys who profoundly love the rain
At the first tick of the rain
Both will immediately leave their stuffs
[sophisticated computer-kind-of equipments, complicated mathematics papers]
To feel the rain showers on their skin
Both adore the rain as an universal dance
For some seconds, through their dancing
Both forget the dreams they have to gave in
[to be a rock star, to be a basketball player]
and finally
Both learn my secret
why I always relate the rain with quiet eyes
with the dark charcoal almond-shaped quiet eyes
by this poem:
[Who loves the rain
And loves his home,
And looks on life with quiet eyes,
Him will I follow through the storm;
And at his hearth-fire keep me warm;
Nor hell nor heaven shall that soul surprise,
Who loves the rain,
And loves his home,
And looks on life with quiet eyes
- by Francis Shaw]
Teacher Room Chat: The Birthday Door December 7, 2009
Posted by ssiregar in : My Trails , 1 comment so farWe were chatting about many things when suddenly I asked everybody - five of us including me, all girls - this question: “What is your birthday? The date and year of your birth?”
Four of us answered without even thinking, almost spontaneously.
“Sept 19, 1909!” (It’s my birthday)
“March 7, 19XX!”
“Feb 16, 19XX”
“Nov 9, 19XX!”
The popped answers stopped at the fifth …
She smiled, “June 26,19XX … but I do not know for sure!”
“How cannot you be sure?”
She - who is 2 years younger than me - took a deep breath …
Here comes a great story:
“I was born in a little village in a remote area and at that time in that place reporting a birth to the authority seemed unimportant and was definitely not an obligation. My father just engraved the date of my birth on a wood door of our living room. Years passed by. We renovated or even re-built our house, we changed the floor, the ceiling, the windows and the doors… and before we realized, we had already thrown away the door marked with my birthday. And then came the day I had to go to school. My father and I went to school for the enrollment. The teacher helped my father to fill the form.
‘What is the birthday of your daughter?’ He asked.
My father just stared the teacher blankly. He cannot answered the question .. Gone was the old door… Then the teacher turned to another girl who had a same size as mine…
He asked her, ‘what is your birthday?’ The girl who was- to- be my classmate answered, ‘June 26, 19XX’.
The teacher said to my father and me, ‘OK, your daughter’s birthday is June 26, 19XX!’ My father agreed.
I did not really understood the matter. I just felt happy that I was officially a first-grader. At home, we told what had happened to my mother.
She seemed surprise and said, ‘I remember that you started to walk in that year!’
My father stunned. But any correction was never be done ever since and that’s how I got my birthday!’”
Gee…
[Find out the true story of your birthday]
Measured by the palm size December 1, 2009
Posted by ssiregar in : My Trails , 1 comment so farwhen I could easily answer all your questions?
“Why is the sky blue?”
“Where does the rain come from?”
“What is the meaning of “mutant”?”
Ha?
“Mutant, Miss Suzan … as in Ninja Turtles?”
Bless ye O … Leonardo, Michelangelo, Donatello, and Raphael…
At that moment, your palms were only half of mine.
The time your palms equaled mine …
Your questions became tougher, frequently I could not answer …
“How do you solve this covalent bond equation?”
You offered your chemistry notes for me to read, but I gave up.
“How about these sinus, cosinus, tangens, cotangens problems?”
I also surrendered.
You grinned and commented,
“but you were always listed as one of the smartest student in the class, weren’t you?”
Yup,but it was nearly a century ago when I got excellent marks for chemistry and maths at high school.
Just last week, you held my palms …
And we both agreed that your palms now have over-sized mine …
It took years, dear …
Yet, it is quite alright…
Handed to me a thick binder: a thesis, a MD thesis, yours.
On the dedication page, together with the name of Mom and Dad
written was my name
… and to Miss Suzan, my teacher …
Incredible what time has done
Now, it is my turn to ask some tough questions.
But, I do believe you will easily answer all, Doc!
[To my students]
Teacher Room Chat: dry and wet waste … November 25, 2009
Posted by ssiregar in : My Trails , 1 comment so far“Where should we put the wet waste?”
“Throw it in to the dry waste bin!”
???
“But dry it, first!”
??? ??? ???
Blog assignments of my Statistics class October 26, 2009
Posted by ssiregar in : My Trails , 2commentsBy this note, I close the “Blog” session of our Statistics class…
Thank you to all the contributors (whose name and link I mentioned in the previous reports).
… Below are the last but not least young writers who summarize the importance of Statistics in their recent study….
40. Tiara Nazwita Amin http://wartawarga.gunadarma.ac.id/2009/10/hubungan-statistika-dengan-psikologi/
41. Deny Nugroho Putra http://wartawarga.gunadarma.ac.id/2009/10/statisika-dengan-ti/
42. Magdalena http://magdalena-third.blogspot.com/2009/09/statistika-dimata-anak-it.html
43. Atmie Aisty http://aizholic.blogspot.com/
44. Nikmah Khumairoh http://wartawarga.gunadarma.ac.id/2009/09/psikologi-statistika/
45. Putri Ratu Retno Komala Sari http://putriraturetno.blogspot.com/2009/09/apakah-statistika-berhubungan-dengan.html
46. Nani Yuliani http://nanie90.blogspot.com/2009/09/manfaat-statistika-untuk-psikologi.html
47. Setiya Nugroho … will soon write the article on his blog
Thank you, young minds!
God bless!!!
Do you have your towel with you? October 25, 2009
Posted by ssiregar in : My Trails , 2commentsA tap on my shoulder, and a soft nice voice half-whispered, “Do you have your towel with you?”
I turned back and screamed… “Pak Eko…!” and punched his arm twice and screamed and screamed and jumped and jumped again uncontrollably - like always.
I forgot that I was in the teacher room.
I forgot that the punching definitely was considered impolite. Since Pak Eko is older than me… a much more experienced lecturer than me … moreover this mathematician is a president of a university … only because of the doctoral class, this reserved, wise and refined gentleman befriends with a drama queen like me.
During several stressful moments, Pak Eko witnessed my irrepressibleness.
How I burst in anger then in crying … always.
To emphasize my drama queen side, I have to admit that when I am angry, I am crying, heavily-seriously crying …
The first time, I exposed my uncontrollableness to my doctoral classmates was in the final exam of Statistics. No, Statistics did not make me upset. I know, I am quiet good in the subject.
The change of the time-schedule that made me angry then made me cry.
I was completing my presentation in the Lab, when over a phone call an officer from the Secretariat of Doctoral Program (SoDP) informed that I should submit the paper right now, two days before the exam.
“Why did not you say so before?” I shouted.
“Please submit the paper now, we are to send it to the professor now!” The weak voice answered.
“I WON’T submit my paper, I will bring it with me on the exam day!” I thundered.
I continued the computation and the analysis.
The problem did not fully stop there.
Suddenly, the SoDP changed the time of exam, from evening to before mid-day.
The SoDP called me and I was again panic since I was (again) still in my Lab, 40-something kilometers from the examination venue. This time, I did not have any choice, I had to obey.
I grabbed my well-prepared paper and my jacket… ran wildly downstairs, frantically stopped a cab.”Taxiiiiiii!”
After an hour and half, I arrived at the campus.
The second, I entered the hall, one of the SoDP crews commented on my cloth.
I was wearing (as almost always) my old jeans pants, t-shirt and flat sneakers. She thought I was not well-dressed (actually, she was right … I never am)
I burst in anger, I was victimized by the sudden change and before I had any chance to protest, a lady scolded me because of my appearance!
I started crying…
My classmates stunned…
I was crying continuously…
I wept.
“Susan, calm down… it soon will be your time to present your work!”, later the inner voice soothed me.
“OK… It’s enough!” I decided.
I went to the rest room, washed my face and put my jacket on.
“Hey, the jacket suits me well!” I saw my image in the mirror and felt perfectly ready for the examination.
The examination went without any obstacle. Another A for my transcript.
I closed the examination room door happily…
“How was it?” My classmates asked.
“It was very good!” I cheered.
Pak Eko stared at me, and calmly said, “But you know what, Susan… you should always have a towel for weeping your tears… a common handkerchief is not enough… a handkerchief will soon soak in your tears… twist it and you will get a bucket of tears!!!”
I agreed…
From that moment, Pak Eko’s favorite greeting for me is, “Do you have your towel with you?”
Not always, Pak…
Not always, Sir…