Searching for Utopia

1. Family and friends
There is no explanation needed for that, methinks. You grow up with them, you get along with them; there were talks; there were feuds; but they grow closer to your heart when you are further apart.

2. Food
My mom was always content with my eating habit since I never had anything to complain about. I eat almost everything, except sertés zsir (trans. Pork fat) mind you. From chicken satay to fresh grilled fish—what is not to love? And you can always find seedless watermelon, and a bunch of exotic fruit such as durian, duku, jack fruit in all seasons. And they make me go yum yum!

3. Prices
The price of a Big Mac in Hungary is around US$ 2.39 while in Indonesia it’s Rp 13.000 (US$ 1.3), plus ketchup and all sauces are free. Oh, and plastic bags too

And a five star hotel is very much affordable. In Surabaya, where I lived, it costed from US$ 75 /night. I don’t think I could ever afford the same luxury in Europe.

Sheraton Surabaya

If you think it may happen because Indonesia is still a jungle, you might want to check its plazas and shopping centers. Sheraton Surabaya happens to be in the same building with the biggest mall in the city, Tunjungan Plaza. As a comparison it is at least four times larger than Westend City Center–which is said to be the largest shopping mall in Central Europe.

Tunjungan Plaza on Christmas Day

For sneakers with wellknown brands; such as Nike, Adidas, Puma etc. they cost around US$ 25-30. I remember back in the old days in school, students were not cool untill we had an Esprit back pack. It wasn’t a big deal at that time, as it was only US$—perhaps less, since Indonesian currency was valued higher by then. Only US$ 2, people! I shit you not. The first time I walked to the famous Budapest’s Váci Utca I almost fainted to see an Esprit blouse which costed 23,000 Ft (US$ 115).

My husband Zsolt had a Nike backpack and a pair of tracksuit which he bought before we knew each other: they were made in Indonesia. He would have gotten 8 items for that price had he bought them there. What is funnier is that many Indonesian bought souvenirs during their trip abroad only to find out in the end that they were also made in Indonesia.

4. Transportation
Public transportation in Indonesia generally sucks no matter where it is; whether in Papua or even Jakarta. But the good thing is that there are more options you can take. For long distance trip, of course aeroplane would be the best. From Jakarta – Sby tickets are available from 30 USD – 80 (700 km), depends on your pocket. If you don’t have that much, there are other ways. Bus or train, for example. You’ll get air conditioned bus with toilet (if you think it is normal, not here in Hungary), with coupon to eat on the appointed restaurant. Sometimes blanket too. And although the amount is decreasing, there is still becak—my savior.

5. Remoteness
It is actually both good and bad things. It may be one of the proofs of the social gap I mentioned here, yet you cannot deny that you would likely find more peace in such places. I am not speaking of the poverty now: it is the nature, the tradition. Behind all the glamorous life in big cities in Indonesia, you can just ride for an hour and you may find such places with green paddy fields; crickets singing at night; coconut trees; and people who knew each others and would greet you warmly whenever they see you.

6. Healthcare
I have heard many complaints about healthcare in Indonesia, which I have so far never experienced. I think they key there is that what you pay is what you would get. There is no such thing as socialist healthcare system like in Hungary. In Indonesia you will still have to share a room and a toilet with many people such as the case in Hungary—if you chose the cheapest service, that is. Nevertheless an air conditioned room with a TV for your own would still be affordable. And no hálapénz (trans. tribute given to doctors and nurses) needed.

7. Hospitality
Smile is important. If you have never been to Indonesia before, you might be shocked to see people are all smiles even without any cause. I remember my father in law used to ask me, “What’s so funny? Why are you smiling?” I bet he would be tired of asking the question to everyone in Indonesia.

When you go to a shop, shopkeepers would smile and ask you if they could help. You need a correct shoe size, hesitate not to ask them. Don’t dig the stock pile in the corner like you do while shopping in Skála. You need only to ask. Oh and plastic bags are for free; plus there is always a bagger to help you in the groceries.

Of course we cannot judge a book from its cover. A smile does not define sincerity. A serial killer may smile even when he was killing his victim. But it is good to know that the shopkeepers will not bark on your coming, don’t you think?

8. Weather
Weather is always hot-hot-hot! That is not good for your make up. Yet it’s still better than looking like Michelin man during winter. At least you can still look stylish during summer (duh)—and it’s always summer there!

9. Diversity
There have been news about people killing people for radicalism, destruction etc. That is sad. But there are still many more who live side by side in peace no matter what. I was raised in a small town in Central Java. My parents are Muslims; yet there is a Confucius temple only 300 m from our house, and only 20 m from it there is a church. A mosque is located only 30 m from a Catholic church. I have never heard of any violence happened between the different believers.

What is more familiar to me is the celebration during our holidays. Because there are many religions, we celebrate different kinf of holidays. From the Chinese usually we get moon cake and other chinese food for free delivered to our house during Spring Festival (Chinese New Year). The Muslim cooks special food during Ramadhan after fasting; and you can eat for free at the mosques during those days. The Christian have small parties during Christmas—my auntie, who is Christian, cooks her trademark delicious grilled chicken for all the neighbors. I had a Chinese tailor, Maduranese catering service, Balinese landlady, Arab furniture shop owner, and American english teacher. Isn’t life great?

10. Nostalgia
I cannot deny that there might be subjectivity in my thoughts; first of all because human always tends to miss something they no longer have. I haven’t seen Indonesia since two years ago and maybe my subjective thoughts influenced me in writing this piece. Some things just don’t change; and if they do, I hope only for the better. I am now content with a family who loves me here in Budapest—how could I ask for more?

Related Article: Ten Things I Hate about Indonesia

Santino and William

There are prospects for peace at last in Sudan when the government and main rebel signed peace accords in January 2005—ending the civil war in the world which had taken place since 1955 between the largely Muslim, pro-government North and largely non-Muslim rebel South. In 1983, the fighting turned to be genocide when the Attorney General Hassan Abdulah el-Turabi, the leader of Sudan’s Islamic Charter Front persuaded President Nemeiri to apply the Islamic Law and began the systematic destruction of those who disagreed; including two millions of southern Dinka Christians, moderate Muslims, and animists.

William Akoi Mawwin was only six years old by then. His father made him flee to the south to avoid the raids for his safety. He was however caught and endured almost two decades of slavery, starvation, and the threat of death, before escaping and continued to live on the streets and eating out of garbage cans. He lost his hands during those difficult times. Some 30-thousand other boys between the ages of 4 and 10 had the same fate. Those who could avoid being captured were wandering for months across Africa without any clue what to do. It was estimated that only one in three boys survived the journey to the refugee camps in Kenya. Thousands were either shot by pursuing soldiers, drowned, died of hunger, or were eaten by wild animals. Babies were killed; girls were raped, killed or forced into slavery.

In 2001 the United States government agreed to allow 3,600 of them to live in America—the lost boys of Sudan. The largest numbers of these orphans were placed in Arizona; where they have a nonprofit support facility called The AZ Lost Boys Center to provide them with education, employment, heath care—and a home base for them to meet with each others. Most of them have been separated from their families during the war and adopted by American families.

William was one of the lucky 70% of them who could enroll to college and get a full-time job. He even co-directed a documentary feature of his life on “It Takes a Village”, a documentary feature of his life, in hoping that the film will raise awareness and money to help build hospitals and schools in Sudan.

The 19-year old Abraham Maker could also smile after being enrolled to a school where he played soccer and is a runner for the athletics team. “I don’t worry now that if I sleep those people are going to shoot me,” he said.

But getting an education is a big problem for those above 18—which means they were too old for school. Because of their lacking of qualifications, they were often faced with the low-paying jobs.

Santino Majok Chuor, 21, had to go through it. As attending school was not an option, he was loading trucks for minimum wage. He sent most of his salary each month to his disabled brother and his three nephews in Kenya; which left him almost nothing to live in an apartment he shared with another lost boy in Houston.
“There’s no way out unless you get education,” he believed.

Another lost boy, Samuel Garang, 23 could work in the day and learn at night. “America wasn’t paradise and it wasn’t as easy as they told you in the camps,” he said, reciting his previous jobs from becoming a security guard to a bagger at supermarkets. Yet he did well enough in school that he was enrolled at Stanford University in California.

Truly there are more in life than a picture of black and white. Being grateful with what we have is perhaps the best way to cope with our problems. As Samuel said, “Back in Africa, they do not know how hard it can be here for us.”

* Annie Lennox snubbed Orlando Bloom when he asked for her autograph, saying, “I just want a quiet night. Please leave me alone and get a life.” A source said, “It was like watching a car crash unfold. Nobody could understand why she was being so rude to Orlando of all people. It was difficult to believe she didn’t know who he was. He’s been in almost every blockbuster this year. But it turns out she genuinely thought he was an unusually good-looking fan. She must have been living under a rock for the past few years.”

Well I must say it’s not always easy to recognize Mr. Bloom, mind you. Who can tell whether it’s him or Tamás Palcsó or Rupert Friend?

* Kate Moss has been voted the style icon of 2005 by Grazia magazine. In short, kids, style means unbrushed hair, vampire teeth, anorexic body, and cigarette…

* It may not be the latest news, but it’s still interesting to know that an Indonesian movie titled “Gie” may be nominated for Oscar. I’m not surprised about Hungary’s “Fateless” though.

* Playboy models Danielle Gamba and Carrie Minter were recently arrested after Gamba made sexual advances to a pair of cops who were questioning them about their getting plastered and disrupting an airline flight to San Antonio.

The cops not only turned down Gamba, 23, and Minter, 22, but they busted them for public intoxication. According to a police report posted on The Smoking Gun, the two got hammered on a two-hour from Denver to San Antonio, where they were due to appear at a lingerie show. Oh, super cops!

Villamos (left) and Vilmos (right)

What is so exciting about Hungarian language? I have heard that this is one of the most difficult languages in the world and such; but it was a little bit soothing to find out that it has actually uncanny similarities with Javanese, one of few languages I am familiar with. First of all is the same a pronunciation which is different than the English a (in Hungarian it’s rather á). There is also the word vásár in Hungarian—means sale, fair . Javanese however pronounces v as p as it has no such letter in the alphabet; so it is interesting that it has indeed the word pasar which means market. Is market not similar to sale in some ways? Táska in Hungarian (trans. bag) is simply tas in Javanese.

Another strange coincidence is for the word lába (trans. leg). No, it has completely different word in Javanese. What I was trying to explain is that in Javanese, plural form is the same like the singular; only said twice. For an instance; the plural form for tas = tas-tas; pasar = pasar-pasar. But for the word spider (we all know it has many legs), Javanese calls it as laba-laba, although laba itself doesn’t mean anything in the language. Strange, eh? I am no linguist expert, so perhaps this form exists somewhere else also. But it’s fun!

Does it therefore make Hungarian an easy subject to learn? My answer would be NO and NO! After two years of living in Hungary, my vocabulary is still limited to vegetable and fruit names because I would need them the most during shopping. One day Zsolt and I were watching TV. I could hardly understand anything said, but I heard a man mentioned nadrág gomba. I knew nadrag means pants and gomba means mushroom. Being a mushroom gobbler myself, I could not resist to ask about this mushroom to him, “What kind of gomba is that: nadrag gomba?” He burst to laugh on the question before explained that it was actually nadragomba—means into my pants. Oo-er missus!

Another time we had to go to cukrászda to order some cake. I wanted to ask him when the shop would be opened. I remember opened would be nyitva, and I thought I always saw the sign nyitva tartalom (trans. Open hour) on the door of every shop here in Hungary. But again, he chuckled and said that it’s nyitva tartás. When I checked the milk bottle we usually buy, I then found out that I had mixed up the words from zsir tartalom (trans. fat content). Phew, at least now I also know: It’s vilmos körte (trans. William’s pear) instead of villamos (trans. Tram) körte!

On November 11, Aceh’s Marlina (16) could smile for the first time after one long suffering year of having a bullet lodged in her head. How did she get a bullet in her head we hear you ask?

It was at 11 AM, July 8, 2004, when Marlina and elder sister Ani were cooking at the family’s kitchen behind the house. All of a sudden they heard an intense shooting within 1 km distance. Long before the nonstop natural disasters such as tsunamis and earthquakes, Aceh had been an area troubled with constant clashes between the Indonesian army and GAM (Free Aceh Movement). During that period, shooting was more like daily incident for the Acehnese; and also for Marlina. She lived with her family in a village, 257 km from the city of Banda Aceh.

At that time, she and Ani ran inside their house for a shelter when the shooting became more extreme. The whole family then burrowed in fear until the noise ceased. Marlina hurriedly went back to the kitchen to check her cooking. Another shot was heard shortly after, at which point her mother shouted for her to come back inside. But it was too late. For Marlina had lost her consciousness and fell down on the floor. Blood spilled out of her head, colored her clothes in red. Her mother grew feeble at the sight.

Ani knew what to do. She carried her little sister to the bed and walked her to the nearest medical center when Marlina awakened. The street was empty still empty. People chose to hide themselves inside their house after the gunfire. The two girls too were afraid, but they strengthened their mind. Ani told her younger sibling that she would bear a bullet herself, as long as Marlina could make it to the medical center. The poor girl had to grit her teeth for pain as they walked step by step. Luckily, they met a cousin who was then willing to accompany them; and afterwards an army commander lent his motorbike.

But Marlina’s suffering was far from over. The health center had inadequate means for treating her that she was rushed to Fauziah Hospital in Bireun. A nurse explained that a small operation would help the girl, but the family could not afford it. Several people suggested them to go to Cut Mutiah Hospital where they would treat conflict victims for free. Hurriedly they went there, and she was eventually operated the next day—only to know that the doctors found no bullet. Marlina suffered constant pain and headache afterwards.

The family was not idle meanwhile. To cover her $ 3,500 USD operation, her mother sold the family heirloom—a small coconut field; and borrowed cash from the neighbors. Three days later she was operated in Zainal Abidin Hospital, Banda Aceh: the doctors could not find the bullet still. Desperate, she was transferred to the Adam Malik Hospital in Medan; but because of financial problem she was taken back home for a week until her family collected more debt.

When she was back in Medan, the hospital suggested her to be operated in Malaysia. The family grew more hopeless. They decided that they would simply cut all the medication and treated Marlina at home. Since then she stayed at home and did her normal activities with a bullet inside her head. The wound sometimes discharged thick pus accompanied by blood; making it hard for her to concentrate on her studies. “When the pain strikes, it really hurts. I take painkillers regularly to neutralize the pain,” said she.

And help came when a journalist from the Jakarta Post who saw her and wrote her trouble on October 12. The Indonesian Brain Foundation, the Sukma Foundation could finally get her operated in Jakarta on November 11, 2005—a year after the shooting took place. After 3 hour of operation, a team of doctors in the Siloam Gleneagles Hospital managed to remove the 1.5-centimeter-long, 3-millimeter-diameter projectile from the back of her back brain. “From 1 to 5, the bullet inside her head could be categorized into 4,” the leader of the team said.

Marlina, no longer had the headache, said she was ready to go back to school and wished to go home as soon as possible to eat her mother’s cooking. “I want to eat my mother’s cooking: milk fish in thick coconut milk sauce,” she said joyfully.