The Sad Story of the Evolution of Bahasa Indonesia
So I've been studying like mad for the last week for my final exam last Friday and it has put me in a contemplative mood about the evolution of Bahasa Indonesia. Honestly, I think it is a bit of a fucked-up language. This is how I imagine it evolved:
Prehistory - 1700 AD:
Homo-Erectus arrives in Indonesia and he starts to realise that that using the same grunt to say "I killed a fucking water buffalo today! Ho say liao ah! Let's celebrate!" and "Cheebye run ah!!! The fucking volcano is gonna blow!" is hardly an adequate form of communication. He starts to invent language and starts out really ambitious. Bahasa Indonesia will be the pinnacle of communication, more beautiful than French, more complex than Japanese. Even when two Indonesians quarrel, people listening will weep at the poetry that is Bahasa Indonesia.
With this lofty ideal, Homosaswono decides that this perfect language should have different ways of calling yourself and other people depending on social status. So he decides that for formal situations and people you respect, you should use Saya to refer to yourself and Anda to refer to the other person. Then among friends or people who are your subordinates, you should use Aku for "I" or "me" and Kamu for "you" or "your". Saswono also decides that there should be a special class of words for soap operas and cool people where Lu means "you" and Gwe means "me". So far so good. Specific salutations for specific people. It is also during this period where fire and corruption are invented in Indonesia.
1700 - 1945AD: Functional Development of Bahasa Indonesia
Somewhere along the way, someone decided that enough was enough. Inventing specific words for each social class (superior, inferior and soap opera/cool people) was too difficult. Indonesians decide to focus on the functional aspect of the language. Indonesian will be a working language and because of its narrow focus on functional terms, it will inspire people to work harder since it is the only thing they can talk about. Tragically, at this time, Indonesia is a maritime/fishing-based civilisation. So a lot of the conversation goes like "I catch fish which is yellow and red yesterday and after my mother-in-law eat, she have many pain and die. Ha. Ha." Or things like "why my fishing boat have brown shit on it? Eh Sutrisno, you sit close to brown shit. Help me make brown shit go away from boat. Just use (left) hand and flick inside sea can already..." And so on and so forth.
Not much development in the richness of the language but at least they have words for all the colours.
1945AD - Present Day: Bahasa Indonesia Becomes Fucked Up
Now Indonesians get lazy. They invent nonsense words by adding suffixes to almost every fucking phrase so that they can replace whole sentences with a single word. So "menomorsatukan" is a valid word which is actually the phrase "nomor satu" or "number one" together with the suffix "me-kan". "Menomorsatukan" is therefore literally translated as "numberone-ed (as in past tense)" which means "make (something) as the number one priority". For example, "dia suka menomorsatukan pekerjaan" means "he likes to numberone his work" as opposed to "he likes to make his work his number one priority" which would of course take up too much time to say and therefore reduce Indonesian efficiency.
That's not so bad. They also add suffixes to acronyms. Like "di-PHK" means "di-putus-hubungan-kerja". In English, it means "breakworkrelationship-ed" or "fired". Oh sure they have a word for fired but then it isn't too polite to say that so-and-so's been "fired". Much better to say that he's been PHK-ed. Reminds you of when your parents wanted to talk about things in front of you which you weren't supposed to hear when you were a kid right? Like when they spelled out certain words? Like maybe your dad would say to your mum "hey, after dinner you wanna give me a Bee Ell Oh Double-U Jay Oh Bee?" Right? Right? Reminds you of that right?
And then the ones that take the cake are "menCDkan", "menvideokan" and "mendigitalrecordingkan". These are actually valid Indonesian words to be used in everyday life. Because Indonesians are too lazy to say "converted (a lecture for instance) into a CD", they'd rather just say "menCDkan" which is like saying "CD-ed". So if I say "saya menCDkan seminar itu", it means "I CD-ed that seminar". Ridiculous. When my teacher first taught me this word, I figured that it was like a local slang but he said its actually a valid Indonesian word. So I joked that very soon they would be saying "menDVDkan" or "menpodcastkan".
He told me they already had words like that.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Final Exam
From a telephone conversation with R.
Me: So my vocab teacher probably thinks I'm going to fail the fucking final exam lah. Today he came into the class and told me that the final exam for vocabulary will only take words from three lessons - Politics, Environment and "Teenage Phrases". That's like three lessons out of like 30 plus in total ok. (That's like your literature teacher telling you.. "ok class for next week's final exam we are going to test only the last three scenes of Romeo and Juliet ok?")
R: But ok what.. now you don't have to mug so much.
Me: Ya... Then I big mouth go and say I also want to learn about terms used in the mass media cos they will be useful next time for me. Then he said.. "ok in that case lets also include the lesson on mass media into the final exam". So now the final exam will cover FOUR topics instead of three. So pathetic right? Aiyah anyway, I think I should be able to pass la.
R: Fuck you. So fucking easy of course can pass lah. If you cannot pass I come to Jogja and cut off your fucking cock ok.
Me: Please don't say that.
From a telephone conversation with R.
Me: So my vocab teacher probably thinks I'm going to fail the fucking final exam lah. Today he came into the class and told me that the final exam for vocabulary will only take words from three lessons - Politics, Environment and "Teenage Phrases". That's like three lessons out of like 30 plus in total ok. (That's like your literature teacher telling you.. "ok class for next week's final exam we are going to test only the last three scenes of Romeo and Juliet ok?")
R: But ok what.. now you don't have to mug so much.
Me: Ya... Then I big mouth go and say I also want to learn about terms used in the mass media cos they will be useful next time for me. Then he said.. "ok in that case lets also include the lesson on mass media into the final exam". So now the final exam will cover FOUR topics instead of three. So pathetic right? Aiyah anyway, I think I should be able to pass la.
R: Fuck you. So fucking easy of course can pass lah. If you cannot pass I come to Jogja and cut off your fucking cock ok.
Me: Please don't say that.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Dangerous Electrical Devices
This is a picture of the light switch in my classroom. Notice that there's what looks like dripping tar coming out of the hole in the side of the switch. On closer inspection I realised that it's actually a lizard's tail. On even closer inspection, I realised that it was dead and remember that it had been there since three months ago when I first started the course. Nobody thinks to clear it away. Why bother when bacteria and maggots will do the job for you?
This is a picture of the light switch in my classroom. Notice that there's what looks like dripping tar coming out of the hole in the side of the switch. On closer inspection I realised that it's actually a lizard's tail. On even closer inspection, I realised that it was dead and remember that it had been there since three months ago when I first started the course. Nobody thinks to clear it away. Why bother when bacteria and maggots will do the job for you?
The Indo 500
3am Saturday morning. The sky is stained a deep red from the lights of the city. The silhouette of Mt Merapi looms in the background. H and I emerge from the club, the music still throbbing in our Jack Danielled heads. I push my bike out of the lot and H gives it the once over while I limber up. R and K do the same with theirs.
Side by side, H pulls himself onto my pillion seat and K gets on R's. We rev our bikes while W, the singer from the club, stands in front of us, holding a kerchief in her hand. She raises it and, winking at me and H, cuts it down. We disappear into Jalan Solo in a cloud of burnt rubber and black smoke. We race past Plaza Amburukmo at a blazing 70km/h. My gearbox is protesting from the strain.
At the end of the street, I brake at the very last moment and swerve the bike right into a tight u-turn, my shoe brushing the tarmac. H lets out a whoop. Powering out of the hairpin, the front of the bike lifts in a wheelie. Too late to correct. I lose power and R catches up. Laughing maniacally, he inches ahead of me.
A twist of my wrist and I speed into the tree-lined boulevards of Jalan Gejayan. The claustrophobic confines challenging us to push our bikes even harder. Unhindered by traffic, we criss cross our way through narrow backlanes, waking up the occasional family of chickens.
Now we reach a bridge which gives us a breathtaking view of Jogja by night. Neither of us can resist the urge to slow down to take in the night time scene. The city is quiet, almost dead. In the night, we feel like specks in the sleeping city.
We're at the roundabout at the university, all of us freezing from the cool, crisp night air. One more stretch of road and two sharp turns to the finish. I twist my throttle all the way and hunch my back into a race crouch. R is close behind me. It becomes a test of nerves as the road intersection at McDonalds looms up. I go hard on the brakes a split second after R and lean hard into the turn. My left clutch peg scrapes the road and sparks fly. Oblivious, I change my stance on the bike abruptly as I get ready for the sharp right coming ahead. This time my exhaust is scratched as I shift all my weight to the right in order to make the turn at maximum speed.
3am Saturday morning. The sky is stained a deep red from the lights of the city. The silhouette of Mt Merapi looms in the background. H and I emerge from the club, the music still throbbing in our Jack Danielled heads. I push my bike out of the lot and H gives it the once over while I limber up. R and K do the same with theirs.Side by side, H pulls himself onto my pillion seat and K gets on R's. We rev our bikes while W, the singer from the club, stands in front of us, holding a kerchief in her hand. She raises it and, winking at me and H, cuts it down. We disappear into Jalan Solo in a cloud of burnt rubber and black smoke. We race past Plaza Amburukmo at a blazing 70km/h. My gearbox is protesting from the strain.
At the end of the street, I brake at the very last moment and swerve the bike right into a tight u-turn, my shoe brushing the tarmac. H lets out a whoop. Powering out of the hairpin, the front of the bike lifts in a wheelie. Too late to correct. I lose power and R catches up. Laughing maniacally, he inches ahead of me.
A twist of my wrist and I speed into the tree-lined boulevards of Jalan Gejayan. The claustrophobic confines challenging us to push our bikes even harder. Unhindered by traffic, we criss cross our way through narrow backlanes, waking up the occasional family of chickens.Now we reach a bridge which gives us a breathtaking view of Jogja by night. Neither of us can resist the urge to slow down to take in the night time scene. The city is quiet, almost dead. In the night, we feel like specks in the sleeping city.
We're at the roundabout at the university, all of us freezing from the cool, crisp night air. One more stretch of road and two sharp turns to the finish. I twist my throttle all the way and hunch my back into a race crouch. R is close behind me. It becomes a test of nerves as the road intersection at McDonalds looms up. I go hard on the brakes a split second after R and lean hard into the turn. My left clutch peg scrapes the road and sparks fly. Oblivious, I change my stance on the bike abruptly as I get ready for the sharp right coming ahead. This time my exhaust is scratched as I shift all my weight to the right in order to make the turn at maximum speed.
The old girl gives me all she's got while H giggles at the ludicrousness of it all.
The final stretch. R is only half a second behind me. We power into the parking lot and our brakes screetch as we stop just short of the fence. W points at me and smiles. I pump my arms in triumph and spin my rear wheels in a burnout to celebrate. The air is thick with the smell of burnt rubber and hard won victory. H slaps me hard on the back.
It is now 4am and, after a celebratory cigarette and a nasi padang breakfast, the dark red sky starts to turn an icey blue. The sun is just rising and the city is starting to wake up. We say our goodbyes, get onto our bikes and slink off into the tight backroads.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Vocabulary Lesson
Yesterday I stepped into my class and my vocabulary teacher, who was already there, immediately and totally out of the blue, goes, "before we start today's lesson, I thought I'd introduce a few new words just for your information." He writes on the whiteboard:
mandal
impoten
subur
aprodisiak
perilaku seks (aman/berisiko)
gonta ganti pasangan X setia pada 1 pasangan
Then he explained in his best English that mandal is different from impoten because mandal means "the condition of a man where he can ejaculate but his sperm cannot make the woman pregnant" whereas impoten "means that the man cannot do the sex" (also known as "cannot get it up" in more conventional terms).
He continued, "subur it refer to the age of a couple when they can make baby." And, lapsing into Indonesia in his excitement, that aprodisiak is to "tambah gairah" or to increase desire.
"Perilaku seks is the doing of sex but there is two type - aman which is the safe type where you wear erm.. kondom? Or eat peel (after some too-ing and fro-ing I realise he meant to say "pill"). And berisiko is like make sex but having some risk. Like don't wear kondom or eat peel."
Last but not least, he explained that "gonta ganti pasangan means that the people always change sexual partner" (I guess we call them "swingers") and that "setia pada 1 pasangan means always with one partner (we all know who those people are)."
I asked him if these words would be coming out in the final exam next week and he said "oh.. er.. ha.. ha.. is only for your information." Now why would he think that I would need to know all these things in particular?
Yesterday I stepped into my class and my vocabulary teacher, who was already there, immediately and totally out of the blue, goes, "before we start today's lesson, I thought I'd introduce a few new words just for your information." He writes on the whiteboard:
mandal
impoten
subur
aprodisiak
perilaku seks (aman/berisiko)
gonta ganti pasangan X setia pada 1 pasangan
Then he explained in his best English that mandal is different from impoten because mandal means "the condition of a man where he can ejaculate but his sperm cannot make the woman pregnant" whereas impoten "means that the man cannot do the sex" (also known as "cannot get it up" in more conventional terms).
He continued, "subur it refer to the age of a couple when they can make baby." And, lapsing into Indonesia in his excitement, that aprodisiak is to "tambah gairah" or to increase desire.
"Perilaku seks is the doing of sex but there is two type - aman which is the safe type where you wear erm.. kondom? Or eat peel (after some too-ing and fro-ing I realise he meant to say "pill"). And berisiko is like make sex but having some risk. Like don't wear kondom or eat peel."
Last but not least, he explained that "gonta ganti pasangan means that the people always change sexual partner" (I guess we call them "swingers") and that "setia pada 1 pasangan means always with one partner (we all know who those people are)."
I asked him if these words would be coming out in the final exam next week and he said "oh.. er.. ha.. ha.. is only for your information." Now why would he think that I would need to know all these things in particular?
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
New Porn
Speaking of jerking off, Ducati has decided to release a street legal version of its MotoGP bike. It's called the Desmosedici RR (the 'RR' stands for racing replica). Apparently its based as closely as possible on the bike that they use to race in MotoGP. This is the equivalent of Ferrari announcing that they will start selling street legal versions of the car that Michael Schumacher drives in F1. The Desmo's gonna have a lot of the technology that goes into the MotoGP bike which is, seriously, shitloads. Things like exotic materials to make the bike lighter, state of the art control systems that are years ahead of conventional motorcycles and a dashboard that looks like it came from Luke Skywalker's X-Wing.
This thing is so hard core that there's no room for a pillion rider because the bit of the bike where a pillion normally sits has been used for the exhaust system. This is so that there is no un-aerodynamic exhaust pipe at the side of the bike to hinder its performance.
Anyway, this is what it looks like:
Fucking chio right? This thing costs more than US$100,000. Like it costs more than a merc lah. Best just look eh?
Speaking of jerking off, Ducati has decided to release a street legal version of its MotoGP bike. It's called the Desmosedici RR (the 'RR' stands for racing replica). Apparently its based as closely as possible on the bike that they use to race in MotoGP. This is the equivalent of Ferrari announcing that they will start selling street legal versions of the car that Michael Schumacher drives in F1. The Desmo's gonna have a lot of the technology that goes into the MotoGP bike which is, seriously, shitloads. Things like exotic materials to make the bike lighter, state of the art control systems that are years ahead of conventional motorcycles and a dashboard that looks like it came from Luke Skywalker's X-Wing.
This thing is so hard core that there's no room for a pillion rider because the bit of the bike where a pillion normally sits has been used for the exhaust system. This is so that there is no un-aerodynamic exhaust pipe at the side of the bike to hinder its performance.
Anyway, this is what it looks like:
Fucking chio right? This thing costs more than US$100,000. Like it costs more than a merc lah. Best just look eh?
Monday, August 21, 2006
My Friends Eat Lamb Dicks and Get Hard Ons
I had this converstaion recently with H, my Cambodian Muslim ex-Indonesian language schoolmate, primary drinking buddy and discussion partner on matters related to paid sex in Southeast Asia:
H: So the other day Y and I went to this shop to eat lamb soup. It's like this place by the road which specialises in lamb soup. They have all these lamb parts hung up in the stall and then you just point to whatever part you want and they make it into soup for you.
Me: Really? So what did you guys get?
H: Penis.
Me: Shit. Really? Lamb dick? Like one each or you shared?
H: Dunno. We just said we wanted lamb penis in our soup and they gave us two bowls. Can't really tell cos they cut it up.
Me: Right.
H: It's kinda like eating snake actually. You feel really hot all over. Oh you also get a hard on after you eat it.
Me: A hard on? Like a boner?
H: Yeah. Y said he couldn't sleep the whole night because his dick was standing.
Me: Well he could have just.. you know.. let it out.
H: Let what out?
Me: You know like uhm.. goyang goyang down there? (Goyang means shake)
H: Oh! oh.. yeah he could have done it but he didn't. Actually he's not supposed to cos he's like a more strict Muslim than I am.
Me: H, the Pope is a more strict Muslim than you are.
H: Ye-a-h... but well strictly speaking, Muslims aren't allowed to jerk off.
Me: They aren't? Why?
H: It's like the same as losing your virginity.
Me: So it counts even if you lose it to yourself?
H: Yeah.
Me: But who's gonna know right?
H: Well its kinda like an honour system.
Me: Ok. Then what about girls? Like what if they just rub but don't stick anything in?
H: Don't know.
Me: Strange.
H: Yeah. People should loosen up huh?
I had this converstaion recently with H, my Cambodian Muslim ex-Indonesian language schoolmate, primary drinking buddy and discussion partner on matters related to paid sex in Southeast Asia:
H: So the other day Y and I went to this shop to eat lamb soup. It's like this place by the road which specialises in lamb soup. They have all these lamb parts hung up in the stall and then you just point to whatever part you want and they make it into soup for you.
Me: Really? So what did you guys get?
H: Penis.
Me: Shit. Really? Lamb dick? Like one each or you shared?
H: Dunno. We just said we wanted lamb penis in our soup and they gave us two bowls. Can't really tell cos they cut it up.
Me: Right.
H: It's kinda like eating snake actually. You feel really hot all over. Oh you also get a hard on after you eat it.
Me: A hard on? Like a boner?
H: Yeah. Y said he couldn't sleep the whole night because his dick was standing.
Me: Well he could have just.. you know.. let it out.
H: Let what out?
Me: You know like uhm.. goyang goyang down there? (Goyang means shake)
H: Oh! oh.. yeah he could have done it but he didn't. Actually he's not supposed to cos he's like a more strict Muslim than I am.
Me: H, the Pope is a more strict Muslim than you are.
H: Ye-a-h... but well strictly speaking, Muslims aren't allowed to jerk off.
Me: They aren't? Why?
H: It's like the same as losing your virginity.
Me: So it counts even if you lose it to yourself?
H: Yeah.
Me: But who's gonna know right?
H: Well its kinda like an honour system.
Me: Ok. Then what about girls? Like what if they just rub but don't stick anything in?
H: Don't know.
Me: Strange.
H: Yeah. People should loosen up huh?
Indonesian Toilets II
So when I first moved into my hostel, there was a handheld bidet in the bathroom. Basically its this hose with a spray gun attached to the end so that you can spray water at your ass after you've finished shitting. Ever the paranoid tenant, I don't use it on my ass but I do however use it to wash the toilet bowl from time to time. Anyway, its more appropriately called a bidet "gun" because the spray is like damn strong lah. So strong that it kinda atomises into a fine mist when it hits a solid surface. And I notice that the mist kinda smells like... well, shit.
So I had two hypotheses:
(i) There was some malfunction in the bidet system so the water that comes out of it is somehow of lower than average quality. I figured that maybe only the bidet guns in this particular hostel had this problem. The other possibility was more chilling...
(ii) The tap water in Jogja is naturally gross but you can only tell when it has been atomised into a fine mist and you can smell the shit smell. This was a more worrying since if all tap water was like that which came from my bidet gun, this would include the water which I use to shower/wash my face/rinse my mouth.
Anyway, after smelling the water from my tap very very carefully, I found no trace of the shit smell so I happily put the second possibility out of my mind and just never ever used the bidet gun again.
But now that I've moved into the apartment, I notice that water from the bidet gun smells the same! And this time the bidet gun is not that strong so the water is doesn't get turned into a mist but I still smell the shit smell leh.
So I've come up with a third theory which is that they use some kinda industrial water to flush toilets with and this is somehow tapped into the bidet guns. So, if anyone were foolish enough to use the bidet guns for their true intended purpose, they would be cleaning their asses with industrial water. Remember industrial water? Last time my social studies teacher told me that factories in Jurong always have a faint smell of shit because they use industrial water to cool the machinery. Industrial water is like processed sewage but it is only fit for machines because machines don't drink the water. But the fact that it smells like shit means that there's still a bit of the ole sewage in the water.
I think there's no way to solve the mystery but to ask the friendly folks at my school again. Though I'm not sure if I should lest they think I have some shit fetish. And anyway, I don't think I could take it if they told me it was actually hypothesis (ii) above.
I need to get out of this place soon man.
So when I first moved into my hostel, there was a handheld bidet in the bathroom. Basically its this hose with a spray gun attached to the end so that you can spray water at your ass after you've finished shitting. Ever the paranoid tenant, I don't use it on my ass but I do however use it to wash the toilet bowl from time to time. Anyway, its more appropriately called a bidet "gun" because the spray is like damn strong lah. So strong that it kinda atomises into a fine mist when it hits a solid surface. And I notice that the mist kinda smells like... well, shit.
So I had two hypotheses:
(i) There was some malfunction in the bidet system so the water that comes out of it is somehow of lower than average quality. I figured that maybe only the bidet guns in this particular hostel had this problem. The other possibility was more chilling...
(ii) The tap water in Jogja is naturally gross but you can only tell when it has been atomised into a fine mist and you can smell the shit smell. This was a more worrying since if all tap water was like that which came from my bidet gun, this would include the water which I use to shower/wash my face/rinse my mouth.
Anyway, after smelling the water from my tap very very carefully, I found no trace of the shit smell so I happily put the second possibility out of my mind and just never ever used the bidet gun again.
But now that I've moved into the apartment, I notice that water from the bidet gun smells the same! And this time the bidet gun is not that strong so the water is doesn't get turned into a mist but I still smell the shit smell leh.
So I've come up with a third theory which is that they use some kinda industrial water to flush toilets with and this is somehow tapped into the bidet guns. So, if anyone were foolish enough to use the bidet guns for their true intended purpose, they would be cleaning their asses with industrial water. Remember industrial water? Last time my social studies teacher told me that factories in Jurong always have a faint smell of shit because they use industrial water to cool the machinery. Industrial water is like processed sewage but it is only fit for machines because machines don't drink the water. But the fact that it smells like shit means that there's still a bit of the ole sewage in the water.
I think there's no way to solve the mystery but to ask the friendly folks at my school again. Though I'm not sure if I should lest they think I have some shit fetish. And anyway, I don't think I could take it if they told me it was actually hypothesis (ii) above.
I need to get out of this place soon man.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Photos of Snakes
In case anyone's wondering what snake looks like after it's been cooked, here are the photos:
And there's a picture of the menu too if you want to know how many ways there are to cook a snake:
Sorry this last photo is not too clear. It actually says:
Snake
King Cobra Steak (Served with vegetables and fried potatoes) - Rp 27000
Cobra Satay - Rp 22000
Tongseng Cobra (that's cobra in sweet sauce for all you Indon gourmet virgins) - Rp 22000
Cobra Goreng Mantenga (served with Fried Cobra cooked in Butter Sauce) - Rp 23000
I'm not sure the last item makes sense. So the "Cobra Goreng Mantenga" is served with even more cobra that is first fried and then cooked in butter sauce?
Contemplation
I realise that Chee Chew has for some reason changed his blog stub so now people can leave comments (read about the origin of the blog stub and my heroic triumph over him here). I'm thinking if I should backside itchy and post a comment to di siao him again. Should I? Jogja very boring leh...
I realise that Chee Chew has for some reason changed his blog stub so now people can leave comments (read about the origin of the blog stub and my heroic triumph over him here). I'm thinking if I should backside itchy and post a comment to di siao him again. Should I? Jogja very boring leh...
Monday, August 14, 2006
I Go Solo
Yesterday got excursion to Jogja's nemesis city - Solo. Apparently, Jogja and Solo used to be one kingdom in the past but because of some historical thing, they split. Even now, the older people in Jogja still refuse to wear Solo batik and vice versa for the old people in Solo. So patriotic hor? Now you ask me to wear orchid shirt I die for you to see first. Incidently, Solo's where Soeharto will be buried when he dies. If that ever happens.
Anyway, we went to visit this Hindu temple where people pray to statues of lan jiaos. No joke. There's this little clearing in the middle of the temple with a stone formation of a dick in the ground:
Yesterday got excursion to Jogja's nemesis city - Solo. Apparently, Jogja and Solo used to be one kingdom in the past but because of some historical thing, they split. Even now, the older people in Jogja still refuse to wear Solo batik and vice versa for the old people in Solo. So patriotic hor? Now you ask me to wear orchid shirt I die for you to see first. Incidently, Solo's where Soeharto will be buried when he dies. If that ever happens.
Anyway, we went to visit this Hindu temple where people pray to statues of lan jiaos. No joke. There's this little clearing in the middle of the temple with a stone formation of a dick in the ground:
The three little balls at the end are supposed to be, well, balls. No idea why they have three instead of two. Indons like redundancy I guess. Like the two sinks in my friend's apartment. The triangle in the second picture is supposed to represent a cheebye. So the whole formation is supposed to represent the dick about to go into the pussy which is supposed to represent.. er.. "life". And in front of the pussy is a round thing which is supposed to be a turtle which is supposed to represent wisdom. So... after you fuck, you get wisdom. Guess it makes sense if you're thinking of improving your technique.
Then we went to this waterfall place. There's like shitloads of monkeys there. I get out of the car and see two of the fuckers on another car. When I took this picture, one of them just peed on the car roof. Quite obvious which one it was. Its the one with the unholstered weapon:
Anyway, I had to walk like damn far down the hill to see the waterfall which wasn't much. Especially cos there was a fat, topless Indonesian guy unselfconsiously enjoying the cool spray against his taut body. You can just about make him out in the second picture below. He's the one with the brown moobs. Nice:
Also saw this dog which was quite cute except for the fact that he tried to bite my arm off when I tried to pat him:
And I realise that Indonesians love to snack. Like throughout the trip everyone in the car was munching on like crisps and cakes and stuff. Of course it only made my motion sickness even worse although I managed not to throw up.
All in all a pretty relaxing day, if pointless.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
I Eat Snake
No K don't get excited. Not that kind.
So last time Ari told me that there's this restaurant here that serves snake meat. So me and my two buddies go looking for the place. Ride all the way from north of Jogja to the south and we finally come to the place. But we don't know the exact location so we start asking around for directions. Again, we encounter the proud Indonesian of giving-a-nonsense-answer-to-appear-helpful-rather-than-admit-that-you-don't-know.
We ask around in the area for directions but the answers range from "I think its somewhere along this street" to more elaborate concoctions like "yeah there used to be one on this street but then it moved to this other place but its a bit far. It's near the train station. You take a left here and then a right, and then two more rights. It's next to a field with a statue in the middle of it." And in case anyone's wondering if I was confused because I don't understand Indonesian too well, R, who is 100% Indo-fucking-nesian was doing the asking and he couldn't make any sense of it.
R says he needs to eat soon cos he's gotta prepare for his gig later at the club so we settle for one of the nearby restaurants. He tells me to pick one so I choose a quaint little one that looks like they serve decent food. We sit down, slightly disappointed and I flip through the menu and fuck me.. there's a section titled "Snake". How fucking lucky is that?!
Anyway, I get the king cobra steak with akra - this really funky local liqour which tastes like tequila. Don't know why they call it a steak cos it comes in like little pieces. Anyway, it's pretty good. And since the restaurant's so far away, I figure that I should just pig out so when I'm done, I get another order of stir fried cobra in sweet sauce. Damn good as well. Now my heart is pounding as I'm typing this cos of the snake.
The Indons believe that snake meat enhances your sexual prowess. R says when I do morning glory tomorrow will shoot far far. Somemore I ate two portions. Note to self: don't turn on the ceiling fan tonight in case I forget tomorrow morning. Otherwise could get messy.
No K don't get excited. Not that kind.
So last time Ari told me that there's this restaurant here that serves snake meat. So me and my two buddies go looking for the place. Ride all the way from north of Jogja to the south and we finally come to the place. But we don't know the exact location so we start asking around for directions. Again, we encounter the proud Indonesian of giving-a-nonsense-answer-to-appear-helpful-rather-than-admit-that-you-don't-know.
We ask around in the area for directions but the answers range from "I think its somewhere along this street" to more elaborate concoctions like "yeah there used to be one on this street but then it moved to this other place but its a bit far. It's near the train station. You take a left here and then a right, and then two more rights. It's next to a field with a statue in the middle of it." And in case anyone's wondering if I was confused because I don't understand Indonesian too well, R, who is 100% Indo-fucking-nesian was doing the asking and he couldn't make any sense of it.
R says he needs to eat soon cos he's gotta prepare for his gig later at the club so we settle for one of the nearby restaurants. He tells me to pick one so I choose a quaint little one that looks like they serve decent food. We sit down, slightly disappointed and I flip through the menu and fuck me.. there's a section titled "Snake". How fucking lucky is that?!
Anyway, I get the king cobra steak with akra - this really funky local liqour which tastes like tequila. Don't know why they call it a steak cos it comes in like little pieces. Anyway, it's pretty good. And since the restaurant's so far away, I figure that I should just pig out so when I'm done, I get another order of stir fried cobra in sweet sauce. Damn good as well. Now my heart is pounding as I'm typing this cos of the snake.
The Indons believe that snake meat enhances your sexual prowess. R says when I do morning glory tomorrow will shoot far far. Somemore I ate two portions. Note to self: don't turn on the ceiling fan tonight in case I forget tomorrow morning. Otherwise could get messy.
Cod Liver Oil
Was going through the pictures in my phone and I saw this. Did everyone have cod liver oil when we were kids? I took this at the homestay. They feed the baby there with this.
Maybe leave for the rats ah.
Was going through the pictures in my phone and I saw this. Did everyone have cod liver oil when we were kids? I took this at the homestay. They feed the baby there with this.
Last time I ever check on wikipedia for cod liver oil before. This is as extract from the entry:
"People who grew up in Asia and other parts of the world often have terrible childhood memories of being force-fed Scott's Emulsion (a popular brand of cod liver oil supplement) until the orange-flavoured version was released."
Taste like fuck right? But I don't know why when I was a kid I liked it leh. I think its cos my parents psychoed me into it. Like they'd go "mmm.. it's time for Cod Live Oil!.. nah.. mmm so nice..." And I would swallow the whole tablespoon stupidly like it was some kinda treat like that. And last time not like now got orange flavoured one. Last time my one was the original white coloured and taste even more sai one. I remember as I got older I would notice my parents making faces to each other and giggle at how I actually liked the stuff.
Anyway, in the homestay, they chase the kid round with a teaspoon and do everything to get him to drink it. Like distract him with his toys or something. But then he's too smart for them so its usually quite hard. Then after they finally get him to drink like half the teaspoon, they pour the rest back into the bottle. Wah lan eh. I mean poor also not poor until like that right? And it kinda defeats the purpose of giving your kid cod liver oil if the bottle is half full of baby saliver right or not? Gross. And then the cod liver oil that they dripped on the floor while chasing the baby around don't need to clean one.Maybe leave for the rats ah.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
I Prepare Myself To Become A Rich Prick
So the other day I went to Jakarta to look for an apartment for when I live there. Nice place if not for the traffic jams. Sometimes I think I can walk faster than the fucking jam man.
Anyway, I looked at about 5 apartments but it took like almost a whole day. Apartment hunting is tiring man. Especially if you have been drinking yourself silly the night before. Some apartments in Jakarta are amazing. You know that zombie movie? Land of the Dead? The story goes that the world has become populated by zombies because of some disaster and the only safe haven is this fortress city which is like damn fucking nice inside but right outside its gates is this like damn jiat lat wasteland filled with the walking dead ready to tear you into tiny tiny pieces to get at your brain?
Ah this apartment is like that la. Outside the compound the city is like shit, filled with near zombies (read about my close shave with one here). But inside the apartment compound, its like one of those Singapore condo ads lor. Like damn fucking nice, manicured green, swimming pool, fountain. There were actually a few people sitting in an al fucking fresco restaurant. And then just as I turned my head to the lobby I see a merc pull up and a girl wearing a spaghetti-strap top, sun glasses and little else steps out from the back. I'm like YES I WANNA LIVE HERE!
But then my friends tell me that the place is too fucking far from the office la. (Too fucking far means like its about two kilometres away but because of the jam it will take like an hour to get to work lor). Dejected, I half-heartedly look at the rest but nothing is as good as this one leh. One of them had furniture like from King Arthur's house like that. Like the mirror is like one lion head and inside the lion's mouth is the mirror. Please. That one give my grandmother la.
Anyway, after dinner, we go over to my friend's place for a look. Fucking hell. It's even better than just now that one. We went to the downstairs gym toilet for a pee. The toilet got one staff to open the door for you, another staff to give you a towel to wipe your hands. Then got one more staff there dunno do what. Wipe backside maybe.
Then we go upstairs to his apartment. Wah lan eh. His toilet is like the size of my bedroom now. And its so luxurious that it has two sinks. Dunno why also. Only got one toilet bowl but got two sinks. Who cares. THE TOILET HAS TWO FUCKING SINKS!!! And his hall is like so spacious you can play soccer lor.
Of course I've decided to take the place. Just need to find the right unit so that I don't see the monsoon drain/open sewer right beside the compound.
So the other day I went to Jakarta to look for an apartment for when I live there. Nice place if not for the traffic jams. Sometimes I think I can walk faster than the fucking jam man.
Anyway, I looked at about 5 apartments but it took like almost a whole day. Apartment hunting is tiring man. Especially if you have been drinking yourself silly the night before. Some apartments in Jakarta are amazing. You know that zombie movie? Land of the Dead? The story goes that the world has become populated by zombies because of some disaster and the only safe haven is this fortress city which is like damn fucking nice inside but right outside its gates is this like damn jiat lat wasteland filled with the walking dead ready to tear you into tiny tiny pieces to get at your brain?
Ah this apartment is like that la. Outside the compound the city is like shit, filled with near zombies (read about my close shave with one here). But inside the apartment compound, its like one of those Singapore condo ads lor. Like damn fucking nice, manicured green, swimming pool, fountain. There were actually a few people sitting in an al fucking fresco restaurant. And then just as I turned my head to the lobby I see a merc pull up and a girl wearing a spaghetti-strap top, sun glasses and little else steps out from the back. I'm like YES I WANNA LIVE HERE!
But then my friends tell me that the place is too fucking far from the office la. (Too fucking far means like its about two kilometres away but because of the jam it will take like an hour to get to work lor). Dejected, I half-heartedly look at the rest but nothing is as good as this one leh. One of them had furniture like from King Arthur's house like that. Like the mirror is like one lion head and inside the lion's mouth is the mirror. Please. That one give my grandmother la.
Anyway, after dinner, we go over to my friend's place for a look. Fucking hell. It's even better than just now that one. We went to the downstairs gym toilet for a pee. The toilet got one staff to open the door for you, another staff to give you a towel to wipe your hands. Then got one more staff there dunno do what. Wipe backside maybe.
Then we go upstairs to his apartment. Wah lan eh. His toilet is like the size of my bedroom now. And its so luxurious that it has two sinks. Dunno why also. Only got one toilet bowl but got two sinks. Who cares. THE TOILET HAS TWO FUCKING SINKS!!! And his hall is like so spacious you can play soccer lor.
Of course I've decided to take the place. Just need to find the right unit so that I don't see the monsoon drain/open sewer right beside the compound.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Lee Chee Chew Is Famous In The World
Ok so the other day D sends me this link. Apparently Chee Chew participated in the "8th Asian Cartoon Exhibition". Now I know what his face looks like, the ugly motherfucker:
And him:
Together with another guy whose middle name is "Buang". Doing the nation proud eh?
Ok so the other day D sends me this link. Apparently Chee Chew participated in the "8th Asian Cartoon Exhibition". Now I know what his face looks like, the ugly motherfucker:
Frankenstein's monster tried on his new wig and was pleased.
So I guess now he's famous. Along with this guy:
And him:
Together with another guy whose middle name is "Buang". Doing the nation proud eh?
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Escape!
Ok I've decided to escape the shithole that is my homestay. Think I'm getting soft. Just four years agoI'd have stayed in the grossest accomodation just to save a few bucks or so that I'd be in the cool part of town. But now.. Well.
But to be fair, the homestay WAS gross lah.
First of all, the toilet floor was wet all the time from the host family washing their asses with the scoop from the water tub next to the toilet bowl (incidentally, this is also the same scoop and tub they use to bathe with). The toilet bowl is also wet all the time for the same reason and, according to S from the USINDO class at my school, that gives you ass rash (when she told me I was like "Oooh.. so that's what it is" - Don't worry. I'm better now).
Secondly, the toilet bowl was gross. Besides looking old and having a loose seat, there was brown scum on the inner rim under the seat where I imagine water from the bowl (probably of the same colour except with solid bits) must have splashed up and hit the seat during the ass washing procedure and since they have probably been doing it for the last thirty years the stains are now so deeply ingrained in the plastic that when I try to wipe it with toilet paper, it doesn't even come off (which actually reassures me a little since that means that it can't rub off onto my ass - see how sad I've become?).
Third, there's a teeny tiny mismatch in hygiene standards. I mean, there're FUCKING RATS in the house for fuck's sake and they're like "oh.. it's like that." I'm just taking a shot in the dark here but maybe, just maybe it's because they leave food overnight on the coffee table. The auntie who owns the house actually said something like "Oh.. we're quite easy going. There's always food on the table if you want a late night snack or something". Like hell I want to eat their late night snack man. And the lady's got a one year old kid in the house who literally puts everything in reach into his mouth. Toys, food, food that he's dropped on the floor, VCDs, bedroom slippers, garden slippers, nobody really stops him unless he looks like he's about to choke on the stuff. Well maybe they do make an attempt to put away the garden slippers lah.
Besides, I'm out all day anyway so I don't really get to interact much with them and practice my bahasa shmahasa. And its kinda hard to study without a proper table. But I suspect that deep down inside, these are just excuses I've made up to console myself that I am not a total wuss and moving out just because I can't take a bit of dirt.
Anyway, I have two more weeks left in my contract with the auntie but I've decided to leave the money and run. I tell the auntie last night that one of my colleagues at the office has fallen ill and they need me back there to cover for him and that I'm leaving this Friday. The timing was crucial because even if she insists on sending me to the airport and waving me off, I can still pull it off convincingly because I'm going to Jakarta for a short R&R trip anyway so its all cool.
I'm thinking I've pulled it off when she asks me what's wrong with him. First thing I blurt out is "dengue fever" but almost kick myself straightaway because I remember, half a second too late, that people with dengue fever only get out of work for two weeks. Thankfully, she doesn't catch on. But then she keeps going "Ya Allaaah (she says this a lot, along with Insyah Allah and Asalam Allaikum), your poor poor colleague. I hope he's alright." So I feel like a right bastard for lying to a nice (albeit less than hygienic) old lady because she actually seems slightly concerned. Thankfully, right there and then D calls from Singapore so I put on my most convincing concerned look and apologise to the auntie and leave the dinner table, talking in English with a worried tone so its as if someone's called me from Singapore to update me on the 'situation'.
Anyway I've booked a studio apartment and I'm gonna move in next week when I come back from Jakarta. I told D that I'm convinced that Buddha is punishing me for making fun of him. D, however, thinks its more likely that he's not happy with me because I made it look kinda small in the photo.
Ok I've decided to escape the shithole that is my homestay. Think I'm getting soft. Just four years agoI'd have stayed in the grossest accomodation just to save a few bucks or so that I'd be in the cool part of town. But now.. Well.
But to be fair, the homestay WAS gross lah.
First of all, the toilet floor was wet all the time from the host family washing their asses with the scoop from the water tub next to the toilet bowl (incidentally, this is also the same scoop and tub they use to bathe with). The toilet bowl is also wet all the time for the same reason and, according to S from the USINDO class at my school, that gives you ass rash (when she told me I was like "Oooh.. so that's what it is" - Don't worry. I'm better now).
Secondly, the toilet bowl was gross. Besides looking old and having a loose seat, there was brown scum on the inner rim under the seat where I imagine water from the bowl (probably of the same colour except with solid bits) must have splashed up and hit the seat during the ass washing procedure and since they have probably been doing it for the last thirty years the stains are now so deeply ingrained in the plastic that when I try to wipe it with toilet paper, it doesn't even come off (which actually reassures me a little since that means that it can't rub off onto my ass - see how sad I've become?).
Third, there's a teeny tiny mismatch in hygiene standards. I mean, there're FUCKING RATS in the house for fuck's sake and they're like "oh.. it's like that." I'm just taking a shot in the dark here but maybe, just maybe it's because they leave food overnight on the coffee table. The auntie who owns the house actually said something like "Oh.. we're quite easy going. There's always food on the table if you want a late night snack or something". Like hell I want to eat their late night snack man. And the lady's got a one year old kid in the house who literally puts everything in reach into his mouth. Toys, food, food that he's dropped on the floor, VCDs, bedroom slippers, garden slippers, nobody really stops him unless he looks like he's about to choke on the stuff. Well maybe they do make an attempt to put away the garden slippers lah.
Besides, I'm out all day anyway so I don't really get to interact much with them and practice my bahasa shmahasa. And its kinda hard to study without a proper table. But I suspect that deep down inside, these are just excuses I've made up to console myself that I am not a total wuss and moving out just because I can't take a bit of dirt.
Anyway, I have two more weeks left in my contract with the auntie but I've decided to leave the money and run. I tell the auntie last night that one of my colleagues at the office has fallen ill and they need me back there to cover for him and that I'm leaving this Friday. The timing was crucial because even if she insists on sending me to the airport and waving me off, I can still pull it off convincingly because I'm going to Jakarta for a short R&R trip anyway so its all cool.
I'm thinking I've pulled it off when she asks me what's wrong with him. First thing I blurt out is "dengue fever" but almost kick myself straightaway because I remember, half a second too late, that people with dengue fever only get out of work for two weeks. Thankfully, she doesn't catch on. But then she keeps going "Ya Allaaah (she says this a lot, along with Insyah Allah and Asalam Allaikum), your poor poor colleague. I hope he's alright." So I feel like a right bastard for lying to a nice (albeit less than hygienic) old lady because she actually seems slightly concerned. Thankfully, right there and then D calls from Singapore so I put on my most convincing concerned look and apologise to the auntie and leave the dinner table, talking in English with a worried tone so its as if someone's called me from Singapore to update me on the 'situation'.
Anyway I've booked a studio apartment and I'm gonna move in next week when I come back from Jakarta. I told D that I'm convinced that Buddha is punishing me for making fun of him. D, however, thinks its more likely that he's not happy with me because I made it look kinda small in the photo.
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