Conversation about Knickers

The thing about wardrobe, apparels and fashion is, on a practical level it needs to make sense to where one lives geographically. The 4 seasons of fashion follow European weather trend: summer, fall, winter, spring -- but what happens when you live in the tropics? When all you have is hot, not-so-hot, and wet? You adjust. You look at nice fall fashion and love them, but no purchase because come on! Wearing a cashmere cardigan in 30 degree weather? Nobody is THAT insane!

Common sense (... if you have them) goes a long way, or in this case goes under way. Earlier today B and I got into a conversation about knickers. We discovered that weather is a big factor when it comes to choosing practical under garments.
Our top choice is M&S cotton knickers.

Sexy knickers are really pretty, nice to look at and usually nice to wear, just NOT in 30 degrees type of weather. There are reasons why these types of under garments should be sitting in your drawer waiting for the right occasion, or simply the right temperature.

If you are blessed with a sensitive skin, the beautiful lace trimmings might just sent you to a small itch-feast on areas you would/should not touch in public. If you happen to be a g-string fan with sweaty bums, you might just be sitting on your own drip. It is for reasons above that clearly, M&S cotton knickers are a sure winner.

2009 Resolution

The common question asked throughout New Year's Eve was, "What is your New Year's Resolution?" Most people will answer with the usual stuff like losing weight, spending more time with family, etc. We like the sound of the grand idea of a better future, but often we forget to think about the actual steps required to get to where we want to be.

The grand idea means that we understand the need to have some kind of vision for the future, and not just live life as it is presented to us. The grand idea means that we are interested in the bigger picture, that we understand how one person is a part of a community and that nobody can (...or should) be alone. The grand idea means that there is the notion of common good and we as humans need to contribute to it.

At the same time grand ideas are idealistic notions that are easily forgotten once the year moves on. The want of a better planet, a cleaner air, and a few kilos of your body often side-stepped by the 'really important things' like going out, laundry or a few hours of extra sleep in the morning. After all, a few more hours of sleep does not contradict your desire for a greener environment. You're just sleeping. Inactive. Dormant.

The challenge this year there will be matching the idea with the actions. I'm not a green-head and I don't use all recycled materials, nor do I use eco-friendly products throughout, yet I believe that I could still do something to save the planet. On much smaller scale, there are also a few things that I want to do to make me a better person. It is 2 weeks into the year and already I can see how they are not going to be easy. It needs discipline to change.

2009 is going to be about change.

1. I want to stop using plastic bag for grocery shopping, or any kind of shopping. Therefore I will always carry with me a carry-bag, because you never know when the impulse hits.

2. I want to be more mindful of water wastage. I will limit my shower time to maximum 10 minutes (even if I wash my hair). I will not keep the water running when I brush my teeth and my face.

3. I will write something in Indonesian once a month.

4. I will stop checking out Facebook's status one-liners and write them email whenever I think of them.

5. I will start saving more ($XXXX) every month for South America in 2010.

6. I will built that web site that archives all the work I've done in my career -- if not for future job opportunities, at least for memories.

7. I will do sports twice a week (exact sport to be determined)

2009 will be for change.

Food for Love

The thing about family is, you can't choose it. You're born into it without prior knowledge of how well-off they are, how educated, how funny or even how loving they are. Most of us have heard stories of family feuds, siblings who no longer speaks to each other, backstabbing relatives and broken homes. Life can be easy or difficult with family. Christmas is one of those occasions that celebrates family and togetherness. It is also the holiday that makes or breaks a family. How can it not? When everyone travel in packs, consuming and sharing, seriously living the notion of 'the more the merrier'. The various characters, numerous good intentions and even more ways of doing things can put serious strains on relationships. This Christmas, we traveled into my dad's home town in Central Java with some of my mother's siblings (more of that travel here).

Like most Indonesian families I know, food is an important element of celebration of togetherness. Not exquisite Christmas lunch or 5 courses of dinner spread over fancy table clothes and glowing candles, but just simple good food in abundance. It's always been about 'family style' -- where food is served in the middle, and everyone gets some from the same plate. It's about fighting for the last piece of meat because it's so good. It's about sharing a dessert because you want to have a room for seconds.

We have it easy, though far from perfect... There is genuine care and love for everyone, near and far, young and old. Like most Indonesian families, we're not very good in expressing our deepest emotions with words. Culturally emotionally reserved, action needs to speak louder than words in my family. It is why I woke up at 8am to have breakfast when all I wanted was to sleep in. It is why I did not mind waking up in the middle of the night because my 4 year old nephew's foot is on my face. It is why I accept the reality of a tiring Christmas holiday, because they needed to see my actions, my involvement, my presence in the tiniest little activity planned as signs of love.

Because I do. I love my family and I wanted them to know, the best way they know how. Because they will never ask the question, "Do you love me?" but hope that you make it to the next Christmas dinner.

Addiction

I'm addicted. Damn.

The village people

There has been no blogging of late and for that I blame recent travels and family obligations. Being a pastor's daughter means that you are somewhat part of a very large family, often consisting of people you don't know. I have memories of bumping people on the mall, exchanging greetings (... and by the way they greeted my dad, I'd know that they're members of his church), only to discover that Dad doesn't really know them at all. I remembered meeting people in restaurants, and finding the bills paid for by the same people who bid us good bye earlier. There were also visits to our house by seminary college students, who in time became colleagues of my father. And there were constant streams of out-of-town pastors from all over Java who were invited to speak at the church filling the memories of my childhood.

I grew out of them as years went by. They simply became events of the past, close to be forgotten. About a month ago, my dad was to have his official retirement service from the congregation he had served for 30 years. I couldn't remember the last time I set foot in that church. It has air conditioning, a screen projector on the side and a different lectern, everything else was the same... only smaller. Everyone looked familiar. Everyone smiled and nodded towards us.

During the service I found myself busy trying to recall names and faces. Those who showed up at the service had some sort of significant presence in our family life. Little flashbacks began to appear and more of them surfaced as we stood in front receiving warm wishes from people. There were faces whom I knew when they were teenagers, and now they're parents themselves. There were friends' parents who looked the same, except their hair were all grey. There was this doctor, who made my 'cool-person' list because he was handsome, comforting and had a huge aquarium of arwanas (the dragon fish) many years ago; he had a stroke years ago and now barely recognised people and had to be wheeled on a wheel chair.

It's heart warming to be back, even if I was never very far from it. These people matters to us as a family, and being a part of this community means that we are never alone. It is a bit like having your own village people. I like that. I like my village people.