Why “Raya and The Last Dragon” Becomes the Asian Culture Stereotype Reversal I Need and How It Matters for South-east Asian Woman Like Me.

Since I am a cheap mom and do not want to pay add ons on anything, I have just watched a much anticipated disney movie Raya and the Last Dragon that first premiered in March 2021 today with my son. For somebody that growing up choosing disney princesses based on the color of their dress because I was nothing like any of them, I excitedly humm to myself ‘about freaking time, Disney” when I heard there would be a southeast asian princess badass heroine in the new upcoming movie. You probably say, ‘but Mulan, tho’. Nope. Not every asian look like Mulan. As a matter of fact, to look like a pale spectrum of brown skin, with small eyes, small nose, straight long hair and slender body like the depiction of Mulan is pretty much a toxic body image I had to put up with my whole life. I am asian but not that kind of asian. I am dark skin, with slightly bigger nose and big eyes, definetely not a slender built either, and I had wavy hair. Many women in Indonesia that look like me(because that is our nature duh), want to look like Mulan and all the men also want somebody that look like Mulan so you can guess what I need to put up with. Basically our men wanted something unlike what you could find on the island. Ungrateful aint it?

Sorry to drag around. But seriously, a Disney main character that looks like me is the day I had been waiting on for my whole life. However, I was broken hearted when I saw the trailer. If somebody asked me what is the worst thing from the movie, it must be the trailer.I was unimpressed of what seemed to be a yet another asian depiction that throws dragons and make female as the lead to get crowd going. The most annoying ones was the very striking similarity between the female heroin Raya in the movie with Kara, the princess of Water Tribe in the infamous series “Avatar: the Legend of Aang”( the cartoon one, not the very very very substandard life action one). For the record, Avatar: The Legend of Aang deserves its own review and that I should do soon. The narration was also resembles that of Avatar: the status quo of divided nation will be helped by this heroine who knows how to get the last mythical creature that somehow has a unity magic power. Was it poorly Avatar adaptation vol.2?

Big Nope. It was far than that. I had such a big relieve after I could prove myself wrong after watching the movie. Raya is a movie that makes a little girl in me had a world where she will fit in, the world where many people look like her or her friends and neighboor thus it is easy for her to imagine her being Raya, her riding tuktuk in the forest that she sees when she go to the local nature park last weekend. Raya is a movie that makes a big girl in me had a world that makes sense, that would explains her origin and represent the vast unique culture she belongs to. Raya is a movie that explains me in the past and in the future. It is a very reversal of so much false stereotype the others stick on us or that of ones we stick to each others. This movie matters and here are the whys:

1. The characters Depictions are touchè. Except for the too smooth skin which understandable because it requires more work to detail every one of them to maybe have pores, the physical depiction of the characters are awesome. We can see Raya and Naamari are pretty slender due to their nature as the warrior princess. Yet, we can see other chiefs have bigger built. The part I like the most were when I saw the people together, it diversifies the character without making them as a ridicule spotlight or the object of the jokes. They made the people have double chin, the people that were medium sized, the ones that has a very dark and a lighter spectrum. Even though they play safe on the accessories, hair do, or body paint/tattoo which was such a waste but they did not alienate any physical differences as they are presented on our eyes. The big Tong as he should be is strong, and Noi the baby is chubby but we all know chubby baby can go fast. There is no unnecessary twist such as the “big is not capable” notion. It let my son see you can be capable no matter how your built is because the built is in our DNA. I wish I have somebody telling me this growing up.
2. The reversal of stereotype is epic. How Raya explains about the land hit me right on the spot. This reminds me of the curse of being privileged. Raya was a privileged princess. She does not know Naamari from Fang not even able to get rice on daily basis. She naively described the others lands as the savage meanwhile they just honestly wanted a better life. This explains further on how the origin of the con image and mistrust stereotipes were constructed within the mind of those who live comfortably. When they came to Talon, it was not a scary place at all. People just do their job of living and those being a criminal was actually Sisu who steals their belongings! The con stereotype was brilliantly reversed effortlessly. It is easy to make others as criminals if you have your bowl full of rice without needing anything. His Dad sees this and understands that the savageness sometimes come from lack of knowledge, understanding and of course from the place to get basic needs figured out. I saw that struggle everyday in my life in Indonesia. We tend not to trust each other because we know if we do, they will use us. We then create the con stereotype to people that mainly do whatever they can to survive. So this con image is genuinely what we have suffered everyday to maintain, to keep trusting others even though it’s hard.
3. It delivers the problem of the power of narration and origin. Sisu explained that Druun has the power of fire that leaves ‘everything in ash and stone’ as of Dragon brings water and piece. This was such a big reversal from the image of the dragon I have in mind. Yet again, who narrate the story of the dragon? the privilege, the one with voice. The west brings this notion of dragon as notorious creatures breathing fire. The asian gangster will have dragon tattoo. Dragon always being this mystical powerful creature of nothing but savage. Then, as a consumer of a western culture, even though I have the southeast culture, I never know this side of story. I never know that there is water dragon. The concept of the dragon that brings water, rain, and peace is new. Like what?! This just made my world upside down. This movie brings all the stereotypes that you would expect in asian representation in western culture but bring lights of the reversal or origin of it as to deconstruct our understanding of them. I scrolled how many south east Asian names in the credits and this just shows what a power of narration can bring the unheard voice to explain their own origin and adding another understanding to a very long due representation. This for a family movie? YES PLEASE!
4. Lastly but mainly, the main problem of the movie represent the real problem in south east Asia. The movie gives you a macro image of what south east asian seen from the outside of narrated by others then it let you deep downs into its vein and see how things are from the origin. I cannot put that this is an authentic southeast asian movie because it is not. This is still a south east asian fusion because even thought I cannot say that I exactly own all of what depicted in this movie, I also cannot say I am not the owner at all. The notion of authenticity of culture is real in southeast Asia. I know some south east asian community often times bicker whose the real owner of this art or this dish or this culture. Just like all the lands in the movie bicker about who deserves the gem. The history I learned was that long time ago South east Asia was several big kingdom beyond country borderlines. However, with that past unity in mind, it was given for south east asian countries to share many similarities in culture since we were one before. Just like people of Kumandra, people in south east Asia shares origin and authenticacy. The part where Raya’s father put together all ingredients from all lands into one pot of dish is an absolute gem of example on how we need to handle the problem of ownership in the community. That maybe it belongs to all of us and nobody should copyrighted the whole dish just because you can put all the ingredients together you know?

All in all, this movie is really putting you in a sphere you’ve never touched before. This movie is the answer of my longing to belong in the narration of the people. That I belong even though I am neither the western nor the eastern. I am the south eastern and I matter.

We Sail Forever Now

The first time I hugged him, I had this very odd yet pleasant feeling of security and warmth. I just had my whole life shattered and I was trying to gather any pieces left to get me by just one more day when we started to hang out. It did not take too long for us to realize that we needed each other–that to be simply put, we were congenial pairs. Yet, it did take some time for us to made our own selves sure that we were worth the fight. It took hundreds of hours and hugs later for us to hold each other hands then set sail together into the ocean of unknown namely life. Before the “I do”, we needed to answers the whole “what ifs’.

We shied away each other several times. We knew that we liked each other–a lot. Then the fear creeped in. The thought of not in this world our relationship would ever work stands so strong. Different status, nationalities, age-gap were things we had in our head to name a few. We fooled each other by saying ‘let’s enjoy the now and we will part ways when the time comes’. So we were together enjoying our day to day in each other companies. Till the day to part ways was getting nearer then we freaked out. Nope. We did not want to lose each other. We asked each other if we could ever make this work.

Days passed and it was time for him to leave for his career. We would have long distance relationship. We would take that time to see if we wanted each other that bad. The life we would had lived in was never the life I was aiming for. I never thought I would want to stay longer than I needed to be in this alien part of the world. I never wanted to be somebody or living with somebody that would leave me for months every year. After what I had experience in the past, I was not sure if this was right for me.

To start a whole new journey with somebody after you got stranded and wounded from your last one was not very ideal position to be in. Your brain was calculating thousands worst case scenario that could happen if you ever took the wrong decision. Especially if you were not alone-that you had passenger which life depends on you. No, you absolutely could not afford another engine failure. It was one hella ride to finally come to a conclusion that nothing would be worse than not taking the chance in life. I decided that another failure in life would be better than stop living. If I took his hand, there was half chance I got my happy life back and another half that I got broken again. Meanwhile, iIf I did not take it, my chance was 100 percent physically living but dead inside. So I guess it was pretty self-explanatory which one I would prefer.

More days passed by, my fear was growing a new. It was not a fear of taking the chance to fight for our relationship. At that point, I was already sure I would chose him no matter how hard the life unfold before our eyes. My fear was that he would not choose me. I did not hear from him for a month and I swear that was one of the most dreadful month I had ever had. I kept thinking that he changed his mind because he finally realized how tough it would be. His family got the letter from him first and I grew more anxious every hour. A little more than a month after we bid our farewell, I opened my mailbox one last time before I got back to have overnight shift at my work, I saw his letter and the rest is history.

We had two weeks together to do all the things we needed to stay together before he got back to work. In our wedding ceremony, we had the judge and our officiant read the wedding vows for us because we vowed to each other way before that. In our letters, our few minutes phone calls when we miles and miles apart. Those are our vows to each other. For me, he had had the vow on that first letter he sent me. He wrote,

I love you so much. I would and will cross seas for you, no distance too far. Through the toughest and darkest times of our lives, to the best days and nights, through illness and health, I want to be there to support you.

Jonah Drake

Let’s cross these seas together. When I feel the distance too far, I will remember that I love you too much to care. When it is tough, and dark, I will be your lights and you will be mine. We will make it through them all. You are my safest place, where I will rest my love forever now. I am here for you for life. I am here for whatever future brings. My love for you is endless, bottomless pit with no escape. Now I can finally show the world what I have for life, the most beautiful soul a woman can ask for. The one who loves me when it is hard even for me to love myself. The one who sees my beauty whenever I feel ugly. You are the one who not only shows but proves that love overpowers anything and everything. I believe that when the world ever fails us, we are still the winners because after all, we still manage to find each other. I love you so much.

It’s been a month that we sail together and there is a solid chance we are going to sail forever now. Sounds good?

Resa Sobandi-Drake

Gulfport, MS, 6-21-21

On Healing

The notion of it is okay not being okay is rather new for me, let alone women in my family. As long as I remember, women had always been expected to be both the flower and the thorn–to be pretty and nice, yet able to defend itself from any circumstances. The idea of being beautiful, strong, and independent mesmerized me because those are all what I could see from women in my family–my grandma, mom, sister. They had faced so many things that would had hurt me so much but somehow they survived and carried on with what life had to offer. I had always felt as I was the weakling. I always thought that I was that person that laughed too easy, felt too much, then cried too often. I had been told to hush my hysterical laughing, tone down my excessive feeling, and stop my crying because women were supposed to conceal and to focus on some more problems that were real. They always said that I was always luckier than many people. That I needed to be thankful. That I needed to see others’ struggle before I ever dared to shed a tear. If I was still able to see more people suffer from more serious problems, than none of my feeling were valid. I should stay strong no matter what. I should stand still no matter how hard. It was my belief (or at least what I wanted myself to believe) to be seen unfazed and to show the perfect me the very next day people see my walking by. I had patched my feeling here and there, try to soak them all up, hold myself back and keep going till someone said that it was okay to feel sad and assure me that other people’s problem or suffering did not make mine less valid. Hearing that, I felt a long relief and a hard hit at the same time. All things went loose. The very high, gigantic brick wall that I had been building every time I got hurt starting to fall apart. Now, I am burried deep down from the remains of what used to be my system of defense. I am bruising than ever. I am hurting. However, I now believe that it is okay to feel this way. It is okay to not feel okay. I thank you for telling me that. I am healing now no matter how long this will take or if it will ever has its ending at all.

The Ramen Kitchen: On How it Did Unearth My Identity and Sanity

It’s easy to lose yourself in the midst of doing everything for everybody except your own self. I was trying to do my best to keep my baby not to cry but I cried in the process. I was trying to keep hope for my partner but I was hopeless in the process. I was thankful for all of my partner’s friends that eventually became my friends. I was thankful for all of the mommies of my son’s friends that eventually became my friends. Yet you see, I was starting to question where I did belong. How could I get a friend but neither my husband’s nor my son’s ? How could I have a friend of my own? And all the answers lied on every strain of noodle I am now happily making in my little kitchen.

I used to be a teacher. It gave me a lot and made maybe more than a half of my personality. Coming to new country with different system, I knew It was a slim chance to keep working as one. Thus, the kitchen world was my choice. Food and cooking had been my choice of interest since I was little. Then the chance was there. I took a kitchen training. Little did I know that training would be my gate to regain my identity.

My trainer, a chef of a well-made pizza restaurant in town, was a very respectable man. He was a professional on the field and gave me so much insight in every class session I attended. He was also the one who introduced me to my now bosses. The process was faster than I thought it would be. After a very warm interview–warmest I’d ever had in my life-with the owner and the general manager of the ramen restaurant, I was invited to their kitchen.

I was welcomed by a friendly kitchen assistant manager then to my kitchen manager then to my noodle trainer then to the rest of the crew. It was nothing like I expected it to be. It was the friendliest place I’d ever be. They were all smiling and welcoming. Then the rest is a history. It has been a fun year being a part of this little lovely kitchen. I gained some good friends, good food, good muscle, good laugh and cry. I lost some of my friends, my sadness, and my free time. None of them I regret. All of them I am thankful of every.single.day

The kitchen–a little world of my own where I can be me is the answer to my journey regaining my identity. This is the place where I do something both for my self and my family. I work for my own sanity. I work for making people-my bosses, coworkers, customers happy. This is a place where what I can do for myself intersect with what I can do for people that I care the most.

This little kitchen has helped me finding what buried within me, piece by piece. From every warm gestures and professional attitude S, R, T, and L did, I gain a piece of my identity namely worth. From every kind words J has made, I gain a piece of my identity namely peace. From every discussion K has shared, I gain a piece of my identity namely strength. From every joke J has done, I gain a piece of my identity namely humor. From every dance S and I have done, I gain a piece of my identity namely fun. From every chat M has shared, I gain a piece of my identity namely knowledge. From every hilarious exchanges with A, I gain a piece of my identity namely fun. From every hugs L has given, I gain a piece of my identity namely compassion. From every talk in between the walk O has shared , I gain another piece of identity namely wit. Then in between every hi-s and goodbye-s to each and every person in the kitchen almost every day, I gain a piece of my identity namely love.

Just like this kitchen way of making food everyday, that was the way how it has made my personality–everything from scratch. Just like the way the kitchen fills every stomach, that was also how it has filled my heart–full of love. I am feeling myself. I gain back what I’d almost lost–or deep buried within me. I thank you-whose names do not need to be mentioned for you know who you are. Thank you for unearthing this buried self-this buried identity and sanity. Thank you for taking me back to this worldly life. Thank you for bearing my being every day. I love you.

 

Lawrence, Dec 3rd 2018

Resa-whose self just unearthed.

Indonesia: On Being Further but Seeing Better

Happy Independence Day, Indonesia!

It’s been two years, I haven’t been able to set my foot on this land. I miss it so much. I don’t know if it’s just me but after being in a great distant with the land about which I used to complain all the time, I feel like I am more in love with it. I am further from Indonesia, yet I see it better and fall in love deeper. I am able to see it clearer when I see it from the other part of the globe then I know I simply fancy my low-key Indonesia.

It’s not that I dislike this sensation-and-enjoyment filled land of Uncle Sam. I won’t ever tell you that it’s unpleasant to live here. Yet, at the end, if I ever to choose when to live the rest of my life in, you know my answer: Indonesia. I am not about to point out that America this and Indonesia that. I am not trying to see the difference really. As opposed to that, my preference towards Indonesia comes from the epiphany that both land are pretty much the same.

Say what? How about a better traffic? How about a huge amount of commodities? How about an easier access to almost everything? That is true. But! The problems for people who live here are also complex. Hey! There are criminals, poverty, sexual harassment, and threat to diversity too over here. Mind you I said too meaning we have it there in Indonesia as well. Again, I cannot compare it apple to apple simply because each of them has a different root for sure then of course grow different variety of fruit eventually. Like different individuals who has their own characters and.. well, problems.

Soooo…Living in this foreign land, I am giving up being that person who thinks that the grass is always greener on the other side. Like, maybe it’s the sun ray? Maybe it’s our eyes? Because after hanging out on that other side, I finally come to realize that uhm my grass is not bad at all. I have a good grass y’all.

I am thankful of being given an opportunity to live in the foreign land. It’s because for the narrow person like me, it takes a different visibility point to be grateful of your starting point, the point where everything’s begun. Therefore, if that land is where one’s started, that’s also where one’s end.

Lawrence, in a new messy apartment with Gentra playing game beside me.

18 Agustus 2018

 

Sincerely,

Resa, the one who loves Indonesia deeper.

 

 

Indonesia: Tentang Bagaimana Jauh Darinya tapi Melihatnya Lebih Nyata

Dirgahayu Republik Indonesia!

Tanah yang udah dua taun gak saya pijak buminya. Kangen. Entah karena kangen kangen manja atau emang itu faktanya, setelah jauh dari tanah yang dulu gak pernah saya berhenti seneweni ini, saya makin ngerasa cinta karena justru dengan punya jarak dengannya, saya bisa lihat dia lebih nyata. Dengan punya jarak darinya, saya melihat Indonesia dari titik berbeda. Saya melihat Indonesia lebih jelas justru dari belahan dunia berbeda dan lalu merasa bahwa saya suka Indonesia saya yang bersahaja saja.

Ini bukan berarti saya tidak menikmati negeri paman Sam yang penuh sensasi dan kenikmatan yang aduhai ini lho. Saya gak akan pernah bilang kalau tinggal di Amerika itu gak enak. Tapi ujungnya, kalau saya disuruh milih di mana saya harus menghabiskan kebanyakan jatah hidup saya yang entah sebanyak apa, saya pilih Indonesia. Saya gak mau kemudian bikin poin- poin yang membandingkan kalo di Amerika A, kalau di Indonesia B jadi B lebih bagus dan pernyataan sejenisnya. Saya bukan mau melihat perbedaan antar dua tanah di mana saya habiskan waktu saya. Sebaliknya, kecenderungan saya untuk kemudian memilih Indonesia justru hadir saat saya sadar bahwa tanah Amerika ini sama saja dengan Indonesia!

Sama apanya? Kan jalanan lebih teratur? Kan komoditi lebih beragam? Kan mau ini itu lebih gampang? Betul. Tapi, masalah yang orang- orang sini hadapi juga pelik ternyata. Dari mulai kriminalitas, kemisikinan, kejahatan seksual, dan ancaman terhadap keberagaman itu ada juga semua di sini. Ini yang kemudian bikin saya mikir, oh kita mah sama aja. Coba baca lagi, saya bilang sama aja yang artinya saya gak bilang bahwa di Indonesia permasalahan itu gak ada. Pun saya gak berusaha bilang kalau tanah satu lebih baik atau lebih parah dalam suatu halnya. Amerika dan Indonesia itu kaya dua individu terpisah yang masing- masing punya karakter dan kesusahannya sendiri.

Nah, hidup di dua tanah berbeda juga bikin saya sekarang tobat untuk mikir bahwa rumput tetangga selalu terlihat lebih hijau warnanya sementara rumput kita mah kusem terus keliatannya. Mungkin itu efek cahaya, mungkin efek mata kita yang siwer juga. Karena setelah numpang maen di rumah tetangga terus lirik rumput punya kita, ternyata eh ternyata, rumput kita kalo dari jauh keliatannya bagus juga.

Saya bersyukur bahwa saya diberi kesempatan numpang hidup di tanah orang. Karena untuk orang cemen macam saya, ternyata butuh jarak pandang yang berbeda untuk bisa mensyukuri titik di mana kita bermula. Maka, jika tanah itu mula saya, di sanalah saya bermuara.

Kamar tidur Lawrence tanpa disertai Gentra yang sedang dihibur ayahnya,

18 Agustus 2018

 

Tertanda,

Resa yang makin cinta Indonesia.

 

 

Gentra, Ibu Mau Bicara..

Untuk Gentradanu Ilmal Kautsar,

 

Gentra, Ibu mau bicara- lewat kata yang bisa ibu sisipkan di awan awan digital yang nantinya bisa kamu ambil pada saatnya. Ibu mau cerita. Masa ibu berkata, kamu sedang tidur seperti biasa. Ini jam 11 malam. Ibu tahu kamu akan bangun beberapa jam lagi, menangis dan minta dikeloni. Jadi sebaiknya ibu cepat bereskan kata kata ini untuk diri kamu yang besar nanti.

Gentra, Ibu mau bicara tentang bagaimana Gentra memberikan Ibu keberanian hanya dari suara.  Ibu dulu sangat penakut. Ibu takut jarum suntik, ibu takut luka, ibu takut orang asing, ibu takut pojok gelap di suatu tempat, ibu takut sakit hati atau dilukai. Untuk bisa punya kamu, ibu berpikir panjang waktu karena ibu harus hadapi semua itu. Menyimpan manusia di dalam rahim itu bukan perkara yang dianggap mudah. Intinya, semua ketakutan yang ibu punya akan ibu alami jika ibu ingin punya Gentra. Ibu ingin Gentra tapi Ibu takut engga mampu. Tapi ada suara berani yang akhirnya bilang bahwa Ibu mampu. Dan suara itu kamu, Gentradanu. Gentra, suara; danu, pemberani. Kamu suara cinta yang ibu rasakan jauh sebelum diri kamu lihat dunia. Kamu suara yang bilang bahwa ibu harus berani pada semua. Gentra, Ibu mau bicara tentang bagaimana Gentra mengajarkan Ibu tentang dunia dan ilmu menikmatinya. Gentra guru terdahsyat yang pernah ada di hari hari seorang siswa. Gentra ajarin ibu gimana caranya nerima. Ibu dulu orangnya pengen segala sempurna dan sesuai rencana. Ibu akan emosi kalau hasrat ibu gak terpenuhi. Sekarang, ada kamu, ibu tahu kalau sempurna bukan cuma dicapai sama hal yang terencana. Kamu ajarin ibu nikmatin setiap detik tanpa upaya. Kamu ajarin ibu rehat sejenak dari dunia. Kamu teman santai ibu, sumber dan pengobat suka duka. Untuk hidup dengan damai, kamulah ilmunya, Ilmal.

Gentra, Ibu mau bicara tentang bagaimana Gentra melimpahkan Ibu segala cinta. Gentra sudah melimpahkan cinta terbesar yang pernah ibu rasakan sesama manusia. Meski gak semua cerita ibu dan kamu bertabur bunga, tapi setiap jalin kisah kita dipenuhi cinta. Hanya dengan ada, kamu buat ibu bahagia. Entah kamu secinta apa, tapi ibu akan terima karena dengan kamu begini saja, cinta ini meruah. Kautsar, berkelimpahan itu kata yang tepat untuk gambarkan bagaimana cinta yang ibu rasakan tiap ibu buka mata dan lihat kamu senyum atau nangis manja. Kamu cinta berkelimpahan ibu dari sebelum kala.

Gentra, ibu mau bicara tentang bagaimana dua tahun ini begitu memesona tapi ibu sudah kehabisan puja. Ibu sayang kamu. Bertumbuhlah seluruhmu, doa ibu buat kamu.

 

Sayang Ibu,

Lawrence, 20 Juli 2018

#ThreeforTwo On Seeing Gentra for the First Time

Since this laid-back mom is not as laid back anymore thus has not written any in a long time, let me take a break to celebrate my son upcoming birthday in the most me way possible: writing. Gentra is turning two in couple of days. We won’t make a party like his first birthday. For his second, we’re planning to enjoy it by ourselves–just the three of us. #ThreeforTwo, three of us for two years. Days when I needed to wait hours for my son to hit the bed while husband is away feel like years. Yet, the days when I saw him play alone got me thinking like why years flew so fast? That is why I want to feel nostalgic about a day when I saw Gentra for the very first time. I want to rumble on seeing Gentra for the very first time and living our lives as three. It won’t be short so be ready.

On my way to the hospital from my dream midwife clinic Bumi Ambu, I laughed and laughed. I’d given up my hope to have vaginal labour. I’ve surrender my stomach to be cut in half. In the emergency room, all checked, my doctor called and the nurse handed us the letter of consent of my procedure. As a person who scared of needles my whole life, I had this indescribable peace of mind as of what to come(you know, lots of needles ahead). Come to think of it, I really do not have any idea how that was even possible, especially my fear of needle just came back once I was done with my labour. Boo. I even got a time and cool to take selfie with my grandma, uncle, aunt, and my husband just before going inside the operation room.

Inside the room, another miracle happened. People who had had caesarian told me that the procedure of the needle going to your bone marrow was unbelievably painful. I, as the person who ever ran away from vaccination procedure and got all my teachers captured me,was extremely worried but there’s no way back. I was trying to chill and listen to the doctor’s instructions. She even explained that the needle going to hurt a lot, like level 3 hurt. She gave my a pillow to hold and bite. She told me to sit down and bend a bit. I felt cold needle on the top of my skin. One, two, three seconds. It just felt cold and I started to wonder when the doctor would pierce the needle. But guess what? She said it’s done. I was like..excuse me? I was confused and overjoyed. I.did.not.feel.a.thing. Alhamdulillah. Praise the Lord. I was shivered uncontrolably when I need to get the needle under my skin due to the lack of liquid in my body–which were supposed to be level 1 hurt. Yet, I repeat…I did not feel a thing for my caesarian shot. This was com from the Almighty.

Afterwards, my doctor asked me about things and the second I remember, I felt like having in an alien abduction movie where I heard voices in the distant and when I opened my eyes, everything was shadowy, my body felt like levitating. Once I had myself together, there was this bulk of pain suddenly hit every inch of my body. Instant pain..as in not gradual. My husband held my hand and I heard my doctor congratulate me. I remember my firs phrase was “sakit banget–it hurts so bad”. From then on, my family members came in turn. Everytime I got someone hand, I thought I almost crushed them due to the pain I would like them to feel.

They took me to my room. I did not feel sleepy at all. I just want to see my son since I was not conscious when I had the procedure. Hours passed and a nurse finally hand me my baby for me to kiss–I was unable to move freely. Right at that moment, I knew where all of sources and miracles came from. It was the Almighty in a form of my baby, Gentra.

We spent that night together for the very first time. Alone. Three of us. For some reason, none of our family was present which was weird considering our culture of accompanying mom right after the birth. Thinking about it right now, I feel upset about it. However, at that very moment, I was cool with it. I spent the rest of my night and dawn looking at my baby through the glass and listening to my husband snore from the end of the bed.

It was not easy to tell the feeling once I saw Gentra and realized that us meant three–not two. First thing was that I did not cry, as I imagined I would be or as portrayed by many mommy moment. I don’t think I am not the happy-cry type of person in the first place. I did not think shedding tears were suitable for the vibe I was having once Gentra was around. Even when I am writing these post, I am trying so so hard to capture my real feeling at that time. My mind is just full of white clouds and sleeping Gentra. That’s it. That very moment was very simple yet complex at the same time. This is one of those moment when any word seems to be understatement and just hope that I was rich enough to hire the whole reality show crew to capture the moment real time.

Sekarang hampir dua tahun kita bertiga. Dari detik saya lihat Gentra pertama sampai sekarang saya udah dua tahun bersama, rasa yang saya dapat rupa- rupa. Gak selalu bahagia. Gak pernah sama. Namun saya tahu pasti bahwa setiap rasanya dinaungi cinta.

It’s almost two years now, we’re being three. Since the first time I saw Gentra till now I’ve spending two years of my and his life together, I felt thousands. Not always happy. Never the same every time. Yet, I know that each and every feeling I have for him, for us, is rooted from love.

#Duatahunbertiga Rasa Melihat Gentra yang Pertama

Berhubung si ibu santai ini udah gak sesantai biasanya jadi udah lama gak nulis, momen jelang ulang tahun Gentra akhirnya diusahain buat nulis lagi. Gentra mau dua tahun beberapa hari lagi. Kita gak akan bikin acara kaya waktu ultah dia yang pertama. Untuk ultah kedua ini pengen dinikmatin ama kita bertiga aja. #Duatahunbertiga rasanya bentar bentar lama. Kalo lagi nungguin Gentra yang belum bisa tidur aja dan suami lagi gak ada, sejam rasa lama. Tapi kalau lagi liat Gentra lagi main sendiri jadi heran anak ini kapan tumbuhnya tau tau udah dua tahun aja. Hehehe. Jadi akhirnya memutuskan nostalgia ke hari- hari awal ketemu Gentra. Saya pengen nyeracau gimana rasa melihat Gentra yang pertama dan jalanin hidup bertiga. Siap- siap ya, ini panjang banget kicauannya.

Di perjalanan menuju rumah sakit dari Bumi Ambu, klinik persalinan dengan bidan yang saya idamkan, saya udah ketawa tawa aja. Udah pasrah tampaknya belum berjodoh dengan lahiran per vaginam. Udah sumerah kalau perut saya harus dibelek. Sampai di UGD, cek ini itu, telp dokter Obgyn saya, terus langsung disodorin pernyataan operasi. Saya yang takut sama jarum suntik setengah mati, pas di ruang persiapan operasi dikasih rasa damai luar biasa. Rasa yang sampai sekarang saya masih heran datang dari mana. Karena pasca lahiran, takut saya sama jarum balik lagi. Pokonya udah kaya angin aja si suster bilang “bu sekarang tes untuk alergi ya..” jos, “bu sekarang saya ambil darah untuk ini ya..” joss. Yo wiss. Masuk ruang operasi masih sempet selfie juga ama nenek, om, tante, dan suami.

Masuk ruang operasi, keajaiban lain pun terjadi. Konon menurut cerita orang yang lahiran via caesarian, suntikan di tulang sum sum untuk biusnya itu sakit luar biasa. Saya yang jaman SD kabur pas disuntik vaksin sebenernya khawatir tapi ya masa saya mau kabur kaya jaman dulu. Berusaha benerin napas dan ikutin instruksi dokternya. Dokternya udah ngewanti- wanti juga ini level 3 katanya. Sakit dimasukin infusan tuh level satu, sakit dimasukin jarum tes alergi itu level 2, dan suntikan di tulang sum sum ini no 3. Sampai di dokternya ngasih bantal buat nahan sakit dan benerin posisi. Posisi untuk disuntik tuh duduk agak bungkuk karna posisi yang mau disuntik pas di tulang belakang di atas pinggang. Terus saya rasain si jarumnya kayanya nempel di kulit karena kerasa dinginnya. Beberapa lama itu jarum kerasa dingin gitu aja. Saya mikir ko ya lama amat gak mulai mulai disuntiknya. Eh taunya si dokter bilang udah selesai. Saya melongo. Lah begitu doang? Itu asli ga kerasa sama sekali. Mukjizat. Alhamdulillah. Padahal saya waktu di infus meringis- ringis pasrah. Ini yang banyak orang rasain sakit sayanya gak kerasa apa- apa. Ini kekuatan sang Maha.

Ngobrol- ngobrol ama si dokternya terus tiba- tiba yang pertama kerasa macem adegan di film yang orang- orang lagi ngomong deket tapi kerasa jauh cuman kasak kusuk doang. Coba buka mata berat dan semua berbayang. Badan rasanya ngambang. Begitu berhasil buka mata dan napak di bumi lagi badannya, rasa sakit yang gak pernah saya rasain sebelumnya langsung blek saya rasain. Sakitnya gak gradual tapi instan. Ini sekaligus seperesekian detik semuanya kerasa. Suami lagi megang tangan saya dan saya samar denger dokternya bilang selamat. Kata yang pertama saya ucapin waktu itu adalah “sakit banget”–kalo gak salah. Saya ingetnya megangin tangan suami kenceng banget karena sakitnya gak ketahan. Dari sana keluarga gantian nengokin dan saya gantian pegangin tangan mereka untuk saya remes karena nahan sakit.

Dibawalah saya ke ruangan. Saya inget saya gak ngantuk sama sekali. Saya cuman pengen lihat anak saya. Berhubung saya bius lokal plus bius tidur(karena biusannya gak cukup kalau saya sadar, masih kerasa nyelekit pas mau mulai digunting), saya gak bisa langsung dapet anak saya pasca dikeluarin dari rahimnya. Setelah nunggu beberapa jam, saya lihat anak saya untuk yang pertama. Sekarang saya tahu darimana semua energi damai dan keajaiban itu datangnya. Energi dari Allah itu namanya Gentra.

Rumah sakit yang kami pilih nyediain rawat gabung. Dulu saya sih gak survey macam- macam tapi setelah tahu bahwa rumah sakit lain banyak yang gak bolehin rawat gabung, saya bersyukur banget. Memang alasannya dimengerti ko. Kalau rawat pisah, ibu dan ayah atau keluarga lain bisa istirahat dan anak ada yang rawat. Buat saya sendiri, mungkin susah banget rasanya bayangin malam- malam pertama anak saya udah keluar susah payah tapi tidur dipisah. Alhamdulillah. Malam itu kita jalanin bertiga. Entah karena apa,gak ada satu pun dari keluarga kita yang digerakan hatinya untuk nemenin di malam pertama. Padahal dari semua keluarga saya atau suami, logikanya setiap yang lahiran atau dirawat pasti ada satu keluarga yang ikutan jaga. Kalau dipikir- pikir harusnya dulu sedih banget gak sih? Gak ada satu pun yang bantuin jaga. Anehnya, saya sama suami biasa aja. Kayanya kita terlalu terpesona sama adanya Gentra. Malem itu Gentra belum mulai minum ASI juga. Saya belum bisa duduk juga. Akhirnya saya ngabisin dini hari liatin anak saya di tabung kaca, dan dengerin ngorok suami di ujung ranjang.

Susah banget buat bilang rasa apa yang ada waktu saya lihat Gentra dan sadar bahwa keluarga kita udah ada tiga. Pertama, saya gak nangis seperti bayangan saya awalnya atau banyak ibu lainnya. Emang saya bukan tipe orang yang punya nangis bahagia. Nangis lebih identik sama nelangsa jadi rasanya saat itu nangis bukan efek yang cocok buat kehadiran Gentra–untuk saya. Ditambah lagi sebenernya diri ini juga coba nerka perasaan apa yang lagi nyelimutin hati dan pikirannya. Di saat saya ngetik tulisan ini, saya beneran coba balik lagi dan nginget- nginget gimana perasaan saya sebenernya. Yang ada di ingatan saya cuma awan- awan putih, dan Gentra yang lagi tidur. Itu aja. Momen itu terlalu sederhana dan kompleks di saat yang sama. Ini salah satu momen yang bikin saya hilang kata dan berharap waktu itu saya kaya waya dan bisa nyewa satu kru reality show untuk bisa rekam semua kejadian itu secara nyata.

Sekarang hampir dua tahun kita bertiga. Dari detik saya lihat Gentra pertama sampai sekarang saya udah dua tahun bersama, rasa yang saya dapat rupa- rupa. Gak selalu bahagia. Gak pernah sama. Namun saya tahu pasti bahwa setiap rasanya dinaungi cinta.

Kelas Kuliner H5, H6, dan Ujian: Saya Lulus!!!

 

Kelas kuliner saya selesai dan saya lulus tes! Tuhan punya cara sendiri buat nunjukin kasih sayangnya. Entah gimana lulusan Sastra Inggris, mantan guru, sekarang malah terdampar di kelas kuliner di Amerika. Dan anehnya lagi, semuanya saling terjalin dan ngebantu satu dan lainnya. The world even makes  more sense after all of these experiences. Macem semua benang kehidupan tuh udah tahu harus dirajut seberapa panjang dan di sebelah mana biar baju kehidupan kita bisa kita pake dengan nyaman. Tsah. Setelah suami sudi berkorban(dan sama sekali enggak mudah) untuk ngurus Gentra selama siang dan belajar ampe tengah malem dan sempet bolos satu kelas demi istrinya yang pingin ikut beginian, Tuhan ngasih kemudahan dengan banyak cara kaya misalnya ternyata kelasnya selesai lebih cepet satu sampai satu setengah jam dari jadwal(karena peserta yang cuma berdua dari yang biasanya 4-6 orang), terus dari yang harusnya 8 hari jadi cuman 6 hari. Pokonya Tuhan luar biasa!

Kelas kuliner ke 6 dan ke 7 agenda awalnya adalah kuliah teori dasar penyajian makanan. Pas hari Senin siap untuk kuliah yang dijadwalin bakal 6 jam selama dua hari, Chef ngasih tahu kalau peserta temen saya itu ternyata udah ngambil sertifikasinya jadilah hari itu kami cuma foto bareng sambil ngasiin sertifikat plus ngasih buku teori untuk saya belajar mandiri. Chef minta saya kasih tahu mereka kapan saya siap buat review bareng dia dan ambil tes-nya. Pas saya coba baca bukunya, akhirnya saya mutusin buat nyelsein semua secepatnya dan nyanggupin untuk review besok siang dan sorenya langsung tes.

Setelah lamaa banget ga belajar untuk ngadepin tes(karena banyaknya belajar buat nyiapin tes anak- anak), saya berasa ketemu temen lama yang saya kangenin. Berkutat sama buku paket, kertas catetan, sama pulpen warna- warni rasanya bikin sumringah aja-persis rasanya pas meluk sahabat yang udah lama gak tatap muka. Saya belajar hari itu dan pagi-paginya. Untungnya saya udah praktik di lab dapur jadinya banyak teori yang udah lumayan nempel karena Chef nya ingetin berulang- ulang pas di dapur kaya misal sanitasi sama aturan- aturan berkenaan sama gimana ngejaga keamanan makanan dan resiko dibalik perilaku salah di dapur.

Hari berikutnya, 10 bab udah saya baca dan latihannya udah saya kerjain. Sebagian udah ngerti, sebagian lagi susah diinget kaya misal nama- nama bakteri, virus, sama aturan ketat waktu dan suhu untuk makanan tertentu juga regulasi pengawasan dari pemerintah suka kadang kebalik- balik departemennya. Untungnya, saya dapet presentasi dan review siangnya barengan Chef dan setelah dijelasin logika dari beberapa aturan dan regulasinya, saya ngingetnya jadi lebih gampang. Dua jam review dan break 45 menit, jam 4 sore saya ambil tesnya online.

Saya didampingin sama satu Chef Jack yang baru saya temuin hari itu. Beliau yang jadi pengawas ujian saya. Jadi meski pun ujiannya online, untuk buka soal ujiannya, saya perlu kode proktor alias pengawas ini untuk mastiin bahwa saya diawasin selama ujian. Saya kerjain 90 soal kurang lebih 45 menit–soalnya itu soal cuma ditampilin satu tiap halamannya, ditambah lagi pas mau review soal harus di klik satu per satu. Karena pengen ngecek jadi pas selesai 90 soal, saya balik lagi review semua jawaban dan diklik sampai nyampe ke soal pertama dan untuk submit soal, ternyata saya harus klik tombol next sampai ada di soal terakhir.

Saya bisa bilang ini kualitas soalnya bagus. Meski pilihan ganda, tapi soalnya banyak yang menjebak dan bukan sekadar hapalan tapi terapan. Kalau misal teorinya kita harus masak makanan siap saji sampai 135 derajat, dia bakal kasih soal dengan nama makanan untuk juga nguji apakah kita tahu jenis makanan tertentu masuk kategori mana selain nguji tentang pengetahuan suhu masaknya. Asik asik njelimet. Dan setelah semua itu, saya lulus sodara sodara. Senangnya alhamdulillah.

Jadi kelas kuliner ini kayanya awal petualangan baru saya di dunia kuliner karena beralih tugas dari awalnya sekadar orang yang cicip hasil akhir dari dunia kuliner tapi sekarang beneran jadi orang di balik dunia kuliner dan saksi keruwetan proses didalam sebuah piring untuk akhirnya disajiin di depan kita. Banyak banget yang saya pelajarin dan ini langkah untuk keluar dari zona nyaman. Menakutkan tapi menjanjikan.