Saturday, November 24, 2018

Random Midnight Talk

Knowing the Paris of my childhood, Emma Watson sang in Beauty & The Beast, and I sang,”Looking at the picture of my childhood”.

Why am I looking at my childhood pics? My mom snapped some of my childhood photos and Whatsapp them to me. Was I that unbearable cute? Not really, yet I was cuter than the present-me ^v^. Let me draw you a bit of how I looked back then. I got the typical girl-toddler-short-hair which often tied like a beansprout, chubby cheeks, 2-rabbit-teeth, and I have always got dark skin. You can never find any single fair-skinned Jane posing and smiling to the camera. My mom blames the expensive chocolate and coffee she always craved for when she had me. It is said that it is good to consume soy milk during pregnancy, but not for my mom that time; Hardly can she drink it as it caused her to feel nauseous. So, instead of consuming bright-coloured items, she craved for dark-coloured items which she said determined my skin tone. Well . . ., please, just don’t buy in her idea. They aren’t supposed to be associated, at all.

Everyone got their own story, struggling on their own fight, and got shaped by all of that. I, myself, too, have the kind of ingredients which baked me to be what I am. Sometimes I wonder, what if my mom didn’t meet my dad, what if they didn’t get attracted to each other, what if they didn’t do it that time, what if my mom didn’t keep me and chose to have me aborted, what if my dad left my mom when he found out that she had me, what if my mom left my dad when he made mistake, what if they divorced after the heavy argument those nights. Above all those what ifs, I am grateful that they kept me, fed me, took care of me; that they let me live. Above all those other struggling I’ve been through, I am tremendously grateful by all the false timing my parents had me.

You might find it savage, yet I am still grateful that now I can go through my childhood photo album because my parents had me not in their right time, because I was there far before I should be there.

Saturday, November 10, 2018

Fifty-Fifty Makes 100 Too

Wokheii . . . !
It’s been a really serious while since my last chitchat post.
Today I bring up a kinda sensitive topic. I came to this topic after my weeks watching Crazy Rich Asians, and then went on with reading the second and third book. When I was reading the second book, I did some reading about the “Yellow” thing that had been mentioned over and over in articles relating to Crazy Rich Asians, did some so-called research about it in websites just to calm my curiosity down. And I was so satisfied! I fed myself with new food J. As additional, I watched some interviews of the actors. The interesting thing is that there would always be questions about how it was to be an Asian-half-blood, living in the-other-half-blood country, of how it is to be born and even grew up there, but still couldn’t be seen completely as “part of the nation”. They did admit that there would always be barrier; being seen differently and alienated from the “pure-blood”.

This doesn’t just happen at the-other-half-blood country. In Asia, back to their Asian-half-blood country, where they are not accustomed to the language, norms, and habits, they surely are easy to be pointed out from an all-asian crowd; seen as “not part of the nation”, again.

The same thing happens to me and other parties that are similar to me in the perspective I’m going to picture later on.

I was born in Indonesia, and of a Chinese descent. Lots of story can be found about this Indonesian of Chinese descent. Okay back to the initial topic of being seen “half-blood”, Indonesian of Chinese descent got the indistinguishable issue as the Asian-American did. I, myself, identify myself as an Indonesian since I was born in Indonesia, from Indonesia citizen parents, I’ve got Indonesian Identity Card, Indonesian passport, what else? I am a completely registered citizen of Indonesia, dude.

My own experience, and may be of some other Indonesian of Chinese descent too, is a bit disappointing. I meant, because I am Indonesian and I have Chinese ancestor, I got this story to tell (No offense please). I was mocked of being Chinese descent with the call “Cina”. Well, in case you are new to this, the word “Cina” in Indonesia has pejorative meaning which corners the Indonesian of Chinese descent of not being “pure” Indonesian, being distinguished from the indigenous. There was a couple occurrence where some random not-yet-enlightened guys yelled at us “Cina! Kelen cuma numpang!” (whew, sounds so rude) or the other yelling, “Go back to your country!”, and I was like Wait, what? I’m still in Indonesia, aren’t I? I’m in my home country, and in my hometown, dude! I should have shown him my identity card #hiuuhhh. Those people are so far left behind that they still see Indonesian of foreign origin as “mudblood”, come on~~.
Having Chinese ancestors doesn’t mean that I am not Indonesian, and that I should be seen as “different kind of animal”. In fact, it has been said that being born from Indonesian citizen (and even for my case it is from the both-Indonesia-citizen couple), despite of their race, ethnicity or religious background will include you as Indonesian. Well, not just Indonesian with Chinese ancestry, it also happen to those with India and other race ancestry. I’m telling about the Chinese just because I am the Chinese version sample.

Indonesian of foreign descent and American of Asian descent are surely having this feeling of confusion: I was born here but I am not fully accepted here. Look back to my descent, I can't count myself in to them too since I am neither born nor live with the custom. I speak in language of my motherland even more fluently than language of my descent.

And, as Indonesian, I believe our youngsters are more well-educated and have learnt to see Indonesia as a diversed and colourful country that no longer differentiating “pribumi” and “non-pribumi”. I am happy that generation of my peer is now aware of the multicultural beings and even bring them up in more positive ways to make sure that this diversity will strengthen our unity.

Lastly, I’m closing this chitchat by saying: I am not staying in Indonesia. I live in Indonesia.