Finally Woken

Donald Trump's Scotland Golf Plan Rejected

It's not everyday Donal Trump faces a rejection. But his plan to build a £1 billions (that's Rp20 trillions or about one-third of Indonesia State Budget of Revenues and Expenditures!) golf complex and housing development at the Menie Estate in Aberdeenshire was rejected last weekend by Aberdeenshire Council's infrastructure committee. It doesn't matter that the development could bring £150m to the local economy over the next decade and creating 400 jobs. It doesn't matter that the reason why Donald Trump chose Scotland in the first place is because he's half Sottish, while he could choose some other place which would easily say yes to whatever his proposal is.



I'm sure if this happens in Indonesia the local council will have voted yes even before seeing and reviewing the proposal, just because he is Donald Trump. So, should we suggest Indonesia to Mr.Trump?

You've Done Us Proud!

I can't believe that I'm actually writing about football here. Not what I think about football like my previous posts (see Everything He Does Is Magic). Not tips for guys how to make peace with their partner when they want to watch football. But really, I'm talking about the biggest game happened in Scotland.

Yes. Scotland vs. Italy. Last Saturday. In Glasgow.
Those of you might wonder, have I gone nuts? Did Stuart tie me on a sofa to make me watch it? Did he drug me or buy me expensive gifts to get me to be patience for 90 minutes? Have I become a geezer bird?

No, my dear friends. I'm mentally and physically perfectly fine and healthy, and I decided to watch the game, or for more precise, to watch the game with my laptop on (which means I would glance at telly every 5 minutes), because it was so huge the whole nation kept talking about it a month before the match and is still talking about it, so it's difficult to not get infatuated by the whole thing. When Stuart said it's an important game, this time I know it was.

Those of you who care less about football, let me give you the background a little bit. This is EUFA European Football Championship 2008 qualification. If Scotland beat Italy they will qualify for Euro 2008. If they lose then Italy and France will book their places at the finals. Should they draw, Scotland will need Ukraine to beat France at home on 21 November. A big dream for Scotland. Probably as big as Indonesia's dream to grace Asian Games with gold medal in any other sport rather than badminton.

Before you ask, I also have asked this question to Stuart many times. This is EUFA. Which means European countries: France, Italy, Spain, The Netherlands, Poland, Belgium, etc. But why do we play as Scotland, Wales, and England? We should play as the UK. This is like Singapore vs. Java, not Singapore vs. Indonesia. But Stuart insisted that Scotland is a country. Which brings the confusion back (read my dad's torturing questions in Where is Scotland posting).

 

Anyway, since Scotland beat France 1-0, the hope that Scotland might be participating in EUFA for the first time in decades started to arise. So the last game of Scotland vs. Italy was hugely anticipating.

Now, if you live in this planet, you'd know that Italy is a powerful team. Plus the players are cute. So just for fun, because I know how nervous all the Scots were about the match, last Saturday I sent an SMS to GG saying that I support Italy. He replied saying that he would stop talking to me if I keep supporting Italy. Stuart, of course backed this up, cruelly threatened for a divorce. Oh dear. Rocky sent a cheeky text saying that he'd watch the game and let me know if Italy won. Ecky immediately said she'd support Italy (didn't I mention that Italy's players are cute?). Stuart of course wasn't happy. Hours passed and he became more nervous. His friend Decky was on the bus to Glasgow to support Scotland, along with another 60,000 fans. And Gordon Brown, the British Prime Minister, who's Scottish.

At least I can sing along with The Proclaimers' I'm Gonna Be (500 miles). Why this song becomes a Scottish song, I have no idea. It's not a national anthem but the crowd in Hampden Stadium sang this song many times.

Italy scored a goal in the first 73 seconds, when I just got up from chair to get some water in the kitchen, sent the whole nation in shock. Stuart screamed so loud when Scotland made a goal and when the score 1-1 until 90 minutes people believe that draw is good enough. Not quiet though. I was actually watching the telly when the Italians struck again in the 91st minute to shatter Scotland's dream.

There was a huge silence in the living room. 30 Seconds later Stuart's mobile was beeping. Decky reported, live from Hampden Stadium. He was crying, as well as the rest of 60,000 tartan army in the stadium and probably in every pub in Scotland.

Almost 30 minutes after the final whistle, the Scottish players reappeared for a lap of honour, and indeed it was heartbreaking to see a bitter twist like that. Even I almost cried. I said almost, because the whole crowd in the stadium was very emotional, but the camera went along to see the most of the fans really cried. Which I think is funny. Men are difficult to show their emotion. Except during sports match.

Rocky sent text (he apparently woke up all night watching the game, thank you darling), saying: "Nit, tell Stu, it's so near, yet so far".

Another empty summer for Scotland indeed. But as all the newspaper put on their front page, the message to the Scottish players are loud and clear: you've done us proud.

I Love Scotland

Note: I must say that this story is written because I feel guilty that I have written many things about Scotland which seem more like complains, especially about the weather. Weather is not that bad, if we know how to handle it (which puts me in the category of 'virgin' since I have no clue. But I'm learning, and I'm still alive, which is the most important thing). Scotland has got so many other good things and I just realized I haven't written any of those, so I'll take my chance now.

When my family found out I was going to move to Scotland, most of them were freaked out. My auntie, despite of being married to a German and calls Germany as her second home, thinks that Scotland is far, far away. She told me, "You only need to walk to North Pole! Aduh, Anita, can't you choose some other country which is closer to Indonesia?". This is the same auntie who was disappointed when I canceled my plan to get my post-grad degree in Germany and chose Australia instead. Only after telling people that we only need to hop on a plane from Amsterdam for 1 hour to get to Aberdeen, they (hopefully) realize that Scotland isn't that far, far away. Or the same amount of time spent if you fly from London. So to think about it, London-Aberdeen or Amsterdam-Aberdeen is like Jakarta-Surabaya. Not too bad, isn't it?

Second thing to notice in Scotland is that the country is so beautiful. It's somewhat like New Zealand: very green with clear blue sky, mountains, hills, and waterfalls everywhere. Its tranquility and fresh air always makes me want to trap some of it into the jar and bring it back to Jakarta. The vegetation gives an eerie feeling, it's easy to imagine hobbits and elves popping out of the bushes to say hello to you. Think about The Lord of The Rings combine with Harry Potter movies. There's no better way to enjoy Scotland by driving around the country. Last year we drove to Portree, Skye, and the landscape is so breathtaking I was behaving like a crazy tourist, frantically taking photographs every minute. The water is really clear and clean, we could drink right from the source, but it's freezing cold so we must be brave to dip our fingers into the pond.

If NZ is full of sheep, Scotland is full of castles. I couldn't get enough of them. Every time I saw one I immediately want to see it close up. I love to imagine how those people lived their lives hundred of years ago, when there was no electricity and gas, when Scotland and England were sworn enemies, when ladies had to wear lots of layers, tight corset and high hair. Some castles have life-size mannequins which pose like whatever people did that time, so we enter the room which is full of 'people' busy cooking, stirring, chopping, yelling at naughty butler, etc. Unfortunately most of the inside rooms cannot be photographs because the items are hundred of years old and are very sensitive to camera lights. My favorite is Edinburgh castle, the most famous castle in Scotland. I've been there three times and I'm never bored to see the magnificent building over and over again. One thing I haven't done yet, is to take one of the ghost tours in Edinburgh. Call me childish, but I think it'd be cool to walk around in the darkness (the tour starts as early as 10.00 PM), listening to the tales, myths, legends, and mysteries about many horrific tortures, murders and supernatural happenings on the Old Town of Edinburgh. Some tours are guided by (men posing as, or who knows, probably real) ghosts. I know it's silly and usually around 4.00 PM you could spot people dressing up like ghost, pirates, troubadours, kings, vampires, mummy, you name it, getting ready for the late night tours. But tourists enjoy it and pay a lot of money to be scared! I wonder why Indonesia doesn't have this ghost tour type, I believe Java has more ghost compares to the whole UK!

Another thing I notice here is that Scottish are more open and friendly. I could feel the pressure of being an Asian in Sydney, there had been several discrimination and racist remarks when I lived there (especially during East Timor separation from Indonesia and 9/11 tragedy), from being asked to open up our suitcases by a custom officer in a nice manner, youngsters pretended they didn't understand when we asked direction to The Basement, the jazz club, impatient cashier in a nightclub who banged the table because I took more than 30 seconds to get the money out of my wallet, until a fellow schoolmate being physically harassed because she was wearing a hijab. Here I'm practically treated just the same. No one stares because I'm different (maybe they stare because I'm pretty haha!). If there's any difference, it was only when queuing for immigration at Aberdeen airport. I'm usually the only person who's not EU citizen, so I'd be the last to be served.

Food is not that bad either, particularly seafood. Two weeks ago there was a food fair in Aberdeen and there's a stall selling king prawn for £2.50/5pcs, which is about Rp 50,000. Not too bad considering a bottle of water costs £1.00. The prawn's so delicious, I went back for the second cup (that means I scoffed 10 king prawns down myself in one afternoon, talk about calories and cholesterol level!). Fraserburgh and Peterhead are the two biggest fish ports in Europe, so Scotland is always supplied with fresh seafood. It's easy to go to any restaurant and order seafood, particularly fish. Of course, the way they cook seafood here is not like in Indonesia which is full of spices. But just like the king prawns I've had, the simple way of cooking just enhances the freshness and the true taste of its own fish. Yumm!

Ok, this is me being cheeky, but I think Scottish men are men enough to wear skirt, or they call it kilt. With nothing underneath. Isn't it interesting? I remember the first time I went to Highland Gathering in Jakarta, and since our friends are British, no one wore this traditional Scottish outfit. So we stopped several (good looking) guys and asked whether the rumour is true, that Scottish men don't wear anything under their kilts. At the end we got the privilege peeking from the young bagpipe band members. But then the next years I've got several Scottish friends (including Stuart) wearing kilts at the gathering, and I'm very sure that they had nothing underneath. When asked why they don't wear underpants, everybody just says it's a tradition (maybe someone can tell me?). So next time you see a Scotsman wearing kilt, you know exactly what he wears, or doesn't wear.

There you go. I hope this could give some brighter picture about Scotland. Perhaps you think about visiting us here?

Embracing The Wild Weather

I've visited Aberdeen a couple of times before permanently move here. But we've always visited the city between September and October, so I didn't really feel the cold weather. The coldest temperature I had experienced was 9⁰C, but that was 6.00 AM in the morning and I had it for a few seconds from the house to the car, so it doesn't really count. My so much winter experience was when I lived in Sydney, where when it's hit under 15⁰C people are seen walking around with thick coats, scarves and gloves. And there's no snow in Sydney!

This time, though, will be my first experience to feel the 'real' cold weather. I've tried my best to avoid it, by arranging my trip back to Indonesia in December-January (I wish I could stay until May but Stuart veto-ed my idea), but this particular week in early November has been colder, much colder. The heater is on more often inside the house, the darkness falls earlier it makes 4.00 PM looks like night time, the kettle is put on all the time for (hot) tea, and I go out much less. Although I still see some freaks walking with short-sleeves T-shirt, there are many more people now put their coats on. Winter is coming!

Last week, Rina, my first Indonesian contact here, asked me if I wanted to meet up with other Indonesians. I, of course, said yes, so we settled to get together on Thursday, at one lady's house which is only 10 minutes walk from mine. That particular day was incredible cold (3⁰C!) and very windy, I had to put a lot of effort just to get out of the house. Smugly I though I'd be fine with tube dress, cardigan, parka, and knee high boots, since the house I was going to wasn't far. But of course, now it's not about the cold, it's about the wind! When walking down Union Grove the wind blew so hard I almost flew I had to grab the nearest tree! Oh dear... wouldn't be funny to read on the next day's newspaper: "Small Indonesian Lady Was Found Hanging On The Tree..." I honestly don't know how to handle this issue. If it's cold, it's easy to put on some more layers to get warmer, but how do I keep my feet on the ground when the wind blows so strong it bends all trees?

Snow fell on Thursday night, but God decided it's not winter time yet, so Friday was warmer enough to let all snow traces disappeared before noon. Saturday was a combination of rain and cold and yesterday (Sunday) was just as depressing as Saturday, but Stuart, like the rest of British/Scottish/Irish people, thinks fresh air is important so he dragged me out of the house to Ferry Hill House for lunch. The 'fresh air' concept was bizarre to me, because 1) it's always sunshine in Indonesia, so no one pays attention to weather forecast, 2) there's no so-called fresh air in Jakarta! Look up to the sky and see that it's actually grey, full of pollution (I was shocked the first time when arrived in Jakarta after living in Sydney because I got used to with clear blue sky) and 3) even though it's fresh, it's freezing cold! So I'd either suffocate after breathing the same air inside the house or catch pneumonia from the cold.

Let's see whether I will survive the weather in the next few months!

Living in A Foreign Country.... Is It Always Better?

I received an email from my friend the other day. She's one of the few Indonesians who could hop on the plane and fly to the US when she's fed up with what she's encountered. Which means 1) she has money, 2) she has passport, and 3) most importantly, she has her visa ready. Nevertheless, she said that she's so jealous to find out that I've been living outside Indonesia for several months now. She said that I'm so lucky, and is sure that I'm having a good time. That I must be relieved to get out Indonesia, or Jakarta in particular.

This is not the first time I received such comments. Several friends commented the same thing. Some even said I'm not meant to be living in Indonesia, that I'm better off somewhere else. Funnily enough, only my colleagues in L'Oréal reacted differently (when I said Scotland, they looked at me like I was out of my mind and said, "It's really cold up there!". Which means they know exactly where Scotland is - a plus point because most of Indonesians don't). In general, the reactions I've received so far is a mixture of amazement and jealousy, that I finally can get out of Indonesia.

Really? Is it true that everything is better outside Indonesia?
Not quite.

Perhaps the perception is built because they think that whatever relates to bule country is better. Perhaps the perception is built during holidays or tours, where they spend 5 minutes in tourist spots and everything looks polished and perfect through a window glass.

But we, Indonesians who already live in foreign countries, know better. That of course, we are so relieved to escape from Jakarta's endless traffic jam and pollution. That we could reach most of the destination in 10 minutes walking and don't have to drive for 30 minutes from Gran Melia to Cazbar. That we could trust the health system here without questioning whether the doctor takes advantages of us and we end up paying bills of all examinations that we don't really need. That we don't have to stuck in our office until 9.00 PM (due to our own inefficiency) or at least have to wait until 3-in-1 time finish. That we don't have to be cautious continuously, even in premium shopping centres, of never-ending crimes from thugs to hypnosis. That we don't need to question whether the chicken is free from bird flu or not. That we don't need to argue with the laundry service which puts French name on their sign yet still manages to shrink our DKNY skirt and only reimburses Rp 70,000. I think my worst nightmare of living in Indonesia can be read in my old posting, Oh Indonesia, Oh Valet, where I had an unnecessary encounter with security guards in Plaza Abda.

But we (or say I) find out that Indonesia has several things which are better than the rest of bule countries. Here are the things that we miss from our beloved country:

Indulgence

As part of the deal with Stuart, when he watches football in the stadium, I get to go to spa and treat myself. But I never find some place which is as good as in Indonesia. Not to mention the price, which if converted, can get me mild heart attacks! Tony&Guy charges me £80, or about 1.6 millions, to get my hair colour done, so up to date I still postpone my appointment. My back, neck, and shoulder massage for 30 minutes at James Dun's House costs £25, or about Rp 500,000. I got my manicure & pedicure at The House which costs £54 or around one million rupiahs (I knowww, ridiculous! With one million rupiahs I could get 8 manicure & pedicure treatments in Jakarta). One place advertises relexology that costs £35/hour, and with the same amount of money I could get at least 7 treatments in Zen Living Jakarta. It's not that Indonesia doesn't have expensive treatments, but they are usually in premium places which target business people or tourists (Four Seasons Hotel charges about 400 thousands for a 90-minutes massage and Kirana Spa in Ubud posts all prices in USD, between USD 150 to USD 950), and we don't go there in daily basis unless we're the daughters of Lim Siew Leong. I and most of my friends in Jakarta spend at least twice a week in B+ class saloon and still get good service, good value with good money, something that I couldn't do here that often. I know, there's no point of converting here, and people keep telling me that you can't compare apple to orange. But still, one million for toenails and hand nails??

Food
I don't have problems with food, since I love trying out everything. I got minor culture shock when I arrived in Scotland at the first time (see my old post: Things That We Thought Are Normal...), but I still manage to find several Indonesian food and spices here, 12,000 km from Indonesia (see My Survival Kits). However I sometimes miss simple Indonesian food like sambal terasi or sayur asam. Lewi, despite only has to move to Singapore, told me that she misses Nasi Padang, and even though there are many places in Singapore serving the dish, it's still not as good as in Indonesia, as they don't use the secret ingredients (read: cannabis leaves) that Indonesians usually put. Also it's so easy and cheap to find good food in Indonesia so I rarely cooked except to impress my partner. There's no Indonesian restaurant here (there are 5 in London though) so if I have some craving for Indonesian food, I have to cook it myself, and anyone knows that Indonesian recipes need a lot of spices and take a lot of time to prepare. Plus we couldn't get out everyday unless we're Richard Branson's children.

Excitement
You may laugh, but everything is predictable here. Everything is smooth, like a well-maintained machine. But it gets boring. It's not like in Jakarta where every single minute can be an excitement. From a sudden traffic jam to a sudden clear traffic 30 minutes later. There's a funny story during big flood last February. I was in HK for a conference and Friday was our last day. The ASEAN boss, who's going back to Singapore, said that he could only stay until 1.30PM because he had to catch a plane at 4.00PM. I asked him if I could share a taxi with him since my flight was at 5.00 PM (means he'd take the bill so I didn't have to pay, another saving for L'Oréal Indonesia haha!). After lunch time, however, I got a lot of texts from my colleagues, reporting that Jakarta was flooded, that airport was closed, that the main road was closed and even though we tried, the furthest we could go was Sheraton Airport Hotel, and the toll roads were now full of thugs asking money. In 1 hour the reports got worsened, and I was advised to stay in HK, my flight would be delayed anyway, etc. etc. Of course when the French boss was saying goodbye, in front of everyone in the conference room he asked, "Anita, are you going with me?". And when I told him, and everybody, that I had to stay for one more day because Jakarta's flooded, no one believed me. They thought I was making things up. Some guy from Taiwan said he just watched CNN during lunch time and there was no news about flood in Indonesia. Patiently I told him that there a lot of things can happen during 30 minutes, if you live in Jakarta. Nothing is predictable. I was lucky I was stuck in a comfy hotel HK rather than in Cengkareng Airport! Poor Stuart had just arrived though, and he's stuck in Eastern Promise, where he and everybody else watched the water rising so fast until GG's Subaru was drowned in front of its owner. If this story didn't shake you, how about when Stuart and his friend got rescued with Bart's farmer truck, and they saw 5 people walking on Kemang street holding a..... phyton! One held the head, one held the tail, the other three held the body.

Can you imagine such thing happen in Scotland? They call it traffic jam even though that it's only 5 minutes macet. Compare to Stuart who had to take 1.5-3 hours back from his office in Karawaci to Kuningan, 5 minutes is nothing. The only excitement I saw so far was when we're stuck in traffic last Saturday because there's a car full of smoke and flames coming out of its machine. But within 30 seconds the police came to handle the traffic and make sure no one was close enough to get injured, and within 2 minutes the fire brigade came, and after less than10 minutes we're allowed to pass because everything's under control. Boring....!!

I lived in Sydney for two years and even then the only excitement I could think of was when the transit authority officers raided our bus to bust people who were using student ticket while they actually had to pay full price. Mardi Gras and Olympics are prepared events and predictable. No one can beat the pyhton story and where else we could rowing a boat on the road?....

Weather
If only I'd moved to another tropical country, I wouldn't have made a lot of fashion blunders like what I've done here. My old posting Confusing Weather has mentioned about it, and I still make some mistakes, like last Saturday, when I insisted on wearing mini skirt with nude colour tights. I thought I'd be warm enough, but every time the wind blew, my legs were frozen. Or the other day I wore my jacket with flurry hoodie like some Eskimo girl, and after 2.00 PM the sun shone so bright everyone started walking with tank top around Union Street, while I was left feeling stupid with my knee-high boots! So just to go out of the house takes a lot of preparation. I must make sure that I'm warm enough, not too hot and not too cold. It's so easy in Indonesia, where I just need to wear jeans and whatever top and we don't need to work out our brain and watch weather forecast before going out.

However I must admit that there are several things I don't miss from Indonesia, like:

("Good") Customer Service
I sent email to Krisflyer Indonesia the other day, asking them to note my new address and stop sending mails to L'Oréal  Indonesia because I've already moved to UK. After several days I've got the reply like this,    

"With regards to your query regarding Krisflyer including updating the krisflyer particular such as address..." (deleted). "As for other option, you may come to our ticketing office and proceed to counter #5 during office hours at ..." (deleted).

Didn't I just state that I've moved to UK? Why did they suggest me go to their office in Menara Kadin? D'oh! Only after contacting Singapore office I got more sensible answer.

("Better") Preparation
Part of my job as a project manager was to make sure that the construction schedule was obeyed, but it's difficult in Indonesia because it's typically like this:    

• The contractor informed that they're going to supply & install a cabinet on date A.
• On date A, no one turned up up until lunch time so I had to call to confirm. Usually they said the cabinet was on its way but it's either stuck in traffic, or the truck was still delivering other items in different place, or the cabinet was already in queue in front of service lift on the basement.
• The cabinet's bits and pieces finally arrived, 6 hours late than it's scheduled, accompanied by its labour, between 4-6 people.
• The labours put the bits and pieces at the destined spot and just sat down next to it.
• When asked why didn't they start assembling, the normal answer were usually 1) they forgot to bring the screwdrivers so they must wait, 2) they forgot to bring bolts so they must wait, 3) the head labour hadn't come so they must wait

In general, one small simple cabinet can take 1 full day and 6 people to install in Indonesia. When finally it is installed there are always something missing, usually shelves or lockset, so the cabinet was nicely put but we must wait for at least another day to get it done. Ok, let's compare to my small experience having the bed delivered to our place. The bed we ordered has storages (drawers) underneath so it requires small work of assembly. 

• Two people came, precisely on time. One was acting as the driver too.
• They make sure that the bed is positioned as I wish, and went out to get toolboxes.
• I phoned my mom when they started to work.
• The whole assembly process took 30 minutes. Even before I finished talking to my mom.

I couldn't even putting a show to them, to let them know that I was a project manager with sharp eyes, because their work was perfect, I couldn't find a single flaw.

("Cheap") Wine and Books

Yes, not everything is expensive here compare to Indonesia. Wine is incredibly cheap. A glass of red wine in Burgundy can buy the whole bottle here. I remember the last time we had dinner in  Scusa and Stuart ordered a bottle of Barolo, which I really loved, but hate when saw the price. So it was a nice surprise to find the same type which only costs around Rp 180,000/bottle in here! Books are also very cheap, which is a good solution for me, since I'm a fast reading (I could finish one John Grisham's novel in 2 hour without interruption), so since July I've already bought around ten books. Something that I couldn't do in Jakarta.

So do I really love living in a foreign country? Yes and no.There are certain things I'd always miss from Indonesia, there things that I won't, ever.  Either way, I'd always try to get the best out of everything. Everywhere.

Chinese Offer

Living in an English speaking country doesn't mean we could speak English properly, let alone write correctly.

We were walking back from Blockbuster when we passed the Chinese store which (hopefully) offers some great services to their customers.

Take a look at the picture.

If you have no clue about what 'boby' means, here is a hint: girls don't have it....

Go figure!!

Things that We Thought Are Normal....

Stuart finds me crazy. Well, it's not the first time, but this is the first time I realize that what we usually have in Indonesia are considered crazy.

Here they are:

1. Pisang goreng (banana fritter).
2. Pisang goreng with chocolate sauce, condensed milk, and grated cheese. Or pisang goreng with  melted brown sugar and icing sugar. Or pisang goreng with sambal (Manado style).
3. Bread or toast with strawberry jam, poached egg, and cheese. (Or is it just me? Anyone else fancy that?)
4. French fries with McDonald's ice cream (I don't do that, but many of my friends are insane enough to combine something deep fried and hot with extremely soft, cold, and sweet taste)
5. We have ice tea and hot tea. We can order teh tawar (means tea without sugar or bitter tea) or teh manis (with sugar). We don't have tea with milk. Only Thai and Indian people do. And some Taiwanese invent bubble tea, which I love but am sure that British will find it disgusting....
6. Pizza with egg in it. Noone does that, only Indonesians do. And noone serves pizza with noodles as topping.
7. The fact that Indonesians, or Asians in general, can eat anything at anytime. Stuart was horrified to see me eating sticky toffee pudding for breakfast, as well as was confused when I told him I usually went for McDonald's with Rocky  after clubs were closed at 3.00 AM in the morning, or went for chicken porridge with Dinar  at 4.00 AM in Menteng.

And I think Scottish people are crazy, because:

1. They eat french fries (or chippies) with salt and vinegar. VINEGAR!!! I mean Dutch are crazy enough by having chips with mayonnaise instead of normal ketchup (tomato sauce), but the combination taste of vinegar with chip is truly strange.
2. They invent a deep-fried mars bar. It's delicious but I wonder how the man came up with the idea of toss a chocolate bar to a pan and fry it? Must be an incident.
3. They order Chinese takeaway (normal ones, like fried rice, stir-fry, noodles, etc) with chips as a side dish. Chinese don't eat french fries until McDonald's arrive in China!
4. Pickled egg. Yuck!
5. They have tea, period. When I said "hot tea, please", they look confuse because noone serves cold (or iced) tea here. And the tea will come with milk and sugar, whether you ask it or not.
6. Deep fried pizza (click on the link for more info). Seriously, Scottish has a thing with everything that is fried. No, not just fried, it's gotta be deep fried.
7. Shopping malls are closed at 6.30 PM or even earlier. Thursday is 'late-night shopping' time, which means the shops will close at 8.00 PM. Asians are much more diligent, every shopping malls are closed around 10.00 PM, or sometimes, when we were having coffee at Coffee Club Plaza Senayan, at 11.00 PM, where the waiters and staffs are already lining up, waiting for us to detach ourselves from the chairs and head to the exit door.
8. No ladies nite! Compares to Jakarta: Tuesdays at Bugil's, Wednesdays at Dragonfly, Thursdays at Aphrodite.

I'm still gathering some more evidence. So this is to be continued.....

Confusing Weather (2)

Note: I must say here that I am forced to write something good about Scottish weather. Stuart and GG are deeply concerned that I have sent the incorrect message across the nation that the sun forget to shine in Scotland and the weather is entirely, continuously dreadful.

But to me, the virgin of weather-changing-climate, the amateur of four-season-in-one-day temperature, Scottish weather is still confusing. It's not just because it is awfully cold during summer, but because it could change just in seconds. Last Wednesday I put a gray cashmere dress which reaches my knees on, have a pair of black thighs and ankle boots, because when I looked outside the window, I strongly believe that it was cold and windy. It took 10 minutes walking for me to to reach the town, and of course, the joke was on me! Suddenly the sun decided to finish hiding and to show itself in all glory, and the town was  filled with people walking down in Union Street only wearing tank tops and mini skirts. I felt like a complete weirdo.

Last Friday Stuart took me to Carnoustie to spend a mini-break there. That Friday the weather was particularly good, hitting 25 degree in our digital clock by the window, so we were so excited to feel the burn sensation in our skin (which normally I avoided in Indonesia), and Stuart kept trying to convince me that this was the summer should be in Scotland, normally. Since the humidity in Scotland is particularly low, we weren't sweating, something that considerably good compares to Indonesia, because at least our perfumes will last longer.

Unless you're a golf junkie, Carnoustie has nothing interesting except the beach. The town is occupied by 16,000 people (which means, probably less than Taman Rasuna Apartment complex residence), and everything is so close by, even to my standard. But determined to feel the real summer, I put my orange halter-neck dress on, my 7cm-heels open toe sandals, and (just in case) I have my cardigan ready. "Do you want to walk on the sand?" Stuart asked. Feeling like a romantic heroine in drama movies, I nodded quickly, but regretted it the next second because I was wearing high heels! By now it's too late to cancel the idea, so with a deep sigh I started walking on the soft sandy beach and sinking my spike heels deeply. When turned back, along the beach I could see paw prints of dogs who looked so happy playing with water, bare feet prints, sandals prints, and of course, my spike heels. I could hear my shoes were crying of this cruelty.

When Stuart commented how nice the weather today, I nodded but inwardly praised myself because I had my cardigan which was wrapped around my back, protected me from the strong ocean wind which blew so strong my hair turned frenzy. He then asked me if I dare to sink my toes into the water. "Are you crazy? It's North Sea !" I said. It's Just in case you don't realize it. North Sea is linked up to Arctic Ocean, which ends up at Arctic Pole, so I could safely assume that it's really, really cold. Therefor despite the sun is shining and the birds are singing, I will say no, thank you.

We stopped by at Stonehaven  during our trip back to Aberdeen. Another small town with Dunnottar Castle as one of the main attractions. By the time we got there, the sun really shone and the town was buzzing with people who couldn't believe their luck that they were blessed with such a beautiful day. I even felt hot, the first time since I got to Scotland! So when I saw an ice cream shop, I treated myself with two scoops of ice creams (which surprisingly, were melted quickly - that shows how hot the weather was!), and when we headed down to the beach and Stuart asked if I dare to sink my toes in the water, I said, "Ha, why not!"

So there | was, bare feet, both ankles were in the water of North Sea (I must remind you again the water is linked to Arctic Ocean!), bravely put a smile on to camera. Of course, there were 20 minutes passed of persuading, touching the water with the tip of toes, yelling "I can't, I can't, it's bloody too cold!", assurance that the toes will be fine and they will not come off of my body, and frostbite wouldn't happen, before this picture was taken. The fact that there were so many toddlers playing with water with their cute tiny swimsuits and building sand castles with only their tiny shorts didn't minimize my triumph.

Honestly the weather was so fine that day I began to think that I might just survive here. Of course it all vanished when we reached Aberdeen and it was raining and cold, again.

That actually makes me think that probably the profession of pawang hujan (rain doctor) is desperately needed here! We desperately need a good summer, and the rain doctor can easily send the gloomy weather somewhere else.

Anyone interested?

Confusing Weather

Tips: read this while listening to Ciara's 1,2 Step song.

Let me see ya
1, 2 step
I love it when ya
1, 2 step
Everybody
1, 2 step
We about to get it on

People have had warned me that UK weather is terrible, but I've only come here during autumn and it was usually cold and cloudy, so I thought, what can be more awful than that? I've had a bonus when the first time we landed in London three years ago and it was so bright, warm and clear I was only wearing a tanktop next to my pregnant friend. And my experience of autumn in these past 3 years wasn't so bad, ultimately I've survived by wearing 3 layers, my winter coat (bought in Australia, so it's not thick), and knee-length boots.

So when I arrived in Aberdeen in early July, I thought, it's summer, it's supposed to be warm (hopefully hot), and I can wear my Bali attire (you know, backless, low neckline, very short pants, and jeweled sandals).

Well so far I've been here for a month, and never in my life I've worn the wrong outfit anywhere, but here. Most of the time I chose an outfit, it's always wrong I ended up looking for something hot (my fiance, a cup of tea, radiator, shopping mall, or kitchen, anything that generates heat!).

One day the sun was shining, the digital clock showed that outside temperature was 25 degrees, and my fiance kept assuring me that it's hot, so I put a tank top (here they call it a vest, just like they call it tea instead of dinner, I know, confusing!) with a sheer jewelled top, and we went to Carnoustie to have a peek on Golf Championship Tournament. And yeah, the temperature was 25 indeed, but the wind blew from the ocean that brought a chill to my very skin! I felt cold! It wouldn't be if I was being sensible and wore something with sleeves, not pretending I was such a fashionista and wore something cute but made me grind my teeth all the time.

It got worse when we went to Fraserburgh to meet the photographer. Convinced that it was hot and shiny, at least in Aberdeen, I pull a tight red polo shirt with an A-line skirt off, feeling that the summer was coming and this was the right outfit to embrace it. Little did I know that although Fraserburgh is only 30 minutes away from Aberdeen, it was 100 degree colder and 100 times more windy than Aberdeen! I ended up feeling wearing the wrong outfit at the wrong place that time, only that it was proven true, when a big truck passing by when I was just outside the car and to my horror, blew my skirt right up, in a manner of Marilyn Monroe's famous picture but without the smile and spirit!! Never ever I felt so embarrassed in my life like that. Even to walk from the carpark to the photographer's house, I had to keep my hands down on both side of my thighs otherwise I would flash myself to the entire world, again....

Yesterday I must go out for shopping, and since it's been warm for the past few days, I bravely wore my long tube dress with my jewelled sandals and a cape, the same dress I wore on Dinar's birthday party in Jakarta last June. Just in case, I still had my leather jacket and an umbrella in my huge bag, but of course since the sun was shining, I put my sunglasses on. But after walking along Union Street for 10 minutes, and got out of the Post Office, the sky suddenly went grey and it started to rain. Refused to be called crazy, I took my sunglasses off and open my umbrella up. Although it took only 3 minutes walk from the Post Office to the Waterstone bookshop I must have my umbrella on, otherwise I would have a VPL (visible pantyline) because my tubedress is cotton and can reveal my sin.... I spent only 5 minutes in the bookstore, and before getting out, I opened my umbrella up and got out, ready to embrace the cold win and the rain. But wait, the rain had stopped and people walked passed me and looked at me like I was a lunatic, wandering around the town with umbrella on. Sheepishly, I immediately shoved it back to my handbag, only to realize that now it's colder than 20 minutes ago, so I must make another stop and took my jacket out of the bag and put it on.

That was the steps I kept repeating yesterday. Umbrella on, umbrella off, jacket on, jacket off, sunglasses on, sunglasses off. Too often to do that, I heard myself singing Ciara's 1,2 Step

Let me see ya
1, 2 step (sunglasses & umbrella)
I love it when ya
1, 2 step (jacket & sunglasses)
Everybody
1, 2 step (umbrella & jacket)
We about to get it on

The weather is so bloody confusing!

Oh how I miss Indonesian weather, where we could just put everything on without too much preparation and go out, without thinking whether it's gonna be raining or not, whether we need sunglasses or not....

My handbag was getting heavier each day. Alongside my mobile phone, YSL compact powder and L'Oreal Glamshine lipstick, my handbag is now filled with a wallet, a coin purse (I must have a separate one because UK coins are worthy here, not like in Indonesia where you keep 500 rupiahs coin for preman/pak ogah on the roundabout), an Ipod (I need that to keep me company while walking down the street) with blue tooth headset and its transmitter (stolen from my fiance's possession), an umbrella, a notebook+pen, a jacket, a wipe tissue box, a namecard holder, and a book....

And I thought living in Aberdeen is simpler.....

PS: Today is 19degree Celcius according to Yahoo! UK Weather Forecast, while according to our digital clock it's been 16 degree since this morning. And this is what people call summer!

My Survival Kits

A month before quitting from L'Oreal Group, the news that I was moving to Scotland was spread and everybody always gave me the same questions: 1) where is Scotland, 2) it's far and cold, how do you survive? and 3) won't you miss Indonesian food?

For number one, I've already tried to explain it in great details in my blog (see Where Is Scotland? in October 2006). Number 2 question, hmm, nothing I could do about it except try to wear warm clothes. And for number three, interestingly enough, food is never an issue for me.

I like trying on new food. We have been to Turkish restaurant in Aberdeen twice this month and I've fallen in love with its huge appetizer selection (it's so funny, they served 6-plates hot food and 4-plates cold food just for appetizer, and my dad asked for a bill, he didn't know it's just appetizer and the main course was yet to come!). I like other middle eastern food like Al-Nafoura in Le Meridian (it's Lebanese, it has nice atmosphere, and it has belly dancing performance at 8.30 pm, where guys really enjoy and girls look with envy) or Anatolia in Kemang. I can eat Indian food although it's never been my first preference (but I never like food with coconut in it anyway, including rendang and opor). Other Asian food (Thai, Vietnam, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, etc) are my favorite. Western food is ok although I pity Australians because they only have, what, Vegemite, and claim that fish and chips is originally from Australia. Italian, Mexican and French are ok. However I haven't yet discovered North and East European food.

I've tried so-called Scottish food. I've tried my first haggis in St.Andrew's Ball in Jakarta three years ago (only to find its ingredients in horror, thanks to late explanation from GG and Stuart, who looked at me with wide grins). I've tried rowie (this you don't want to try, it has at least 600 calories in it, very unhealthy). I've tried pickled-egg (it's disgusting in both taste and colour, but if you want to find out, go to The Highland Gathering which is held every June and taste it yourself). I also tried cullen skink several times (despite its suspicious name, the soup is creamy and yummy, see picture, right).

Of course I've instantly fallen in love with sticky toffee pudding (see picture, left) and deep-fried mars bar.

But Aberdeen is not Sydney, which has at least 40,000 Indonesians there. When I was living in Sydney it's easy to find Indonesian food and spices like Indomie, terasi, petis, ikan asin, even keluwak for rawon.

At least Aberdeen has Asian supermarket. Its tiny shop which is adjacent to halal butcher has quite good selection of exotic food (yeah we even call mango as an exotic fruit).  And look what I've found!

Right, 60,000 miles away from Indonesia and I managed to find Indomie, woohoo! It's bizzare yet such a blessing to meI London at least has 5 Indonesian restaurants but even Asian people in here are quite rare. However I only bought 4 packages because after the 4th one, my fiancé silently stopped me and reminded me that those are still instant noodle, and those are still unhealthy.

But wait, I've found 2 packages which I've never seen in Indonesia before. Is the first package in... French? Hmm, interesting. The second one, I'm sure, was snatched from exported goods to Arabian countries. 

As well as Indomie, I also found... kecap manis! This sweet soy sauce concept apparently only exists in Indonesia and alien to westerners. It's easy to find a salty ones (even Marks&Spencer has its own kind), but kecap manis, hmm, it is considered exotic!

Well, those are my survival kits so far.

PS: Rockz, Max, can we expand Rocks' Noodle in Aberdeen?

These Pumps Are NOT Made For Walkin'

Tips: read this while watching or listening to the Nancy Sinatra's These Boots Are Made for Walkin' cover version, where Jessica Simpson is strutting around with sexy red boots....

In my attempt to conquer the granite city (a.k.a Aberdeen), I decided that last Thursday was a perfect day to walk around the city.

Now, as everybody knows, Indonesians are not used to walk. Yes, we could walk for hours while shopping in Plaza Senayan or even Mangga Dua, but that's a totally different exercise. In Jakarta, while working at Jakarta Stock Exchange Building, just to go to Automall (which is, literally, practically, across the street and only takes 3 minutes walk), we sometimes opt for driving. While working in L'Oreal in Kuningan, Stuart couldn't understand why I always insisted on driving my car to Cazbar for lunch, fighting the consistent traffic jam on the roundabout across Singaporean & The Netherlands Embassies, rather than walking, which perhaps, takes less time than driving.

The only time I embrace a 'walking spirit' would be when I travel to Singapore and Bali (and again, the spirit of walking gets a lot of boosts from shopping agenda). OK, I had to walk a lot when I was living in Sydney, but back then I was a student, dressed like one (sneakers, jeans, backpack), and it was 7 years ago! Somehow though, after 6 months I chose bus rather than walking, and then my classmate Tom, ABT (Australian born Taiwanese), was a spoilt rich boy who changed cars more often than changing his military green jacket, and he usually picked me up at my apartment before going to the uni.

I couldn't put my walking around the project site as my walking CV. Although the project site is usually large (more than 1,000 sqm), and sometimes has more than 1 storey so I must use staircases, I was more standing a lot rather than walking. While walking, the pace was also very slowly, so it's not really walking.

So it's a safe assumption that I only walk on treadmill at gym....

Since I'm not a walking-friendly person, my shoes are considerably not walking-friendly shoes. Most of them are open toes sandals with 7cm heels or higher. The only flat shoes I have would be my flip-flops (for Bali) and my sneakers (for gym). I opt high heels sandals not just because they are sexy and make me stand straighter, but because it is necessary. Yeah, with 153 cm tall I consistently become the shortest among the group, so you see, 7 cm heels are necessary! Even though I almost killed myself, (Fall From Grace, July 2006), and embarrassed myself in Highland Gathering 2005 by wearing wedges in a muddy open field, I couldn't, wouldn't stop wearing high heels. Funnily enough, I get more tired wearing flip flops rather than dancing around with my 9cm heels jewelled sandals.

However 3 years ago I bought my first loafers for UK trip. I know I'd be walking along the huge airports, changing terminals and gates, dragging my luggage around on top of added shopping bags, and keeping my pace with Stuart's. Not to mention that I must fly solo to Amsterdam, then took a train up to Hannover with my 20 kgs luggage (no porter!). My Hush Puppies were my saviour.

But now living in Aberdeen and having faced the facts that 1) I don't know the bus route yet, 2) I must get a new driving licence in order to be able to drive, and most importantly 3) I still get lost and constantly call my poor fiancé just to ask where the post office is, I have to walk. And I can't wear my jewelled flat sandals all the time. Although my sandals make people turn their head to see them, they're open-toes, and with fake-summer temperature in Aberdeen which is never warmer than 18 degrees (and that, my friend, is a winter time in Sydney!), I'd get frostbite very soon. I have no option but wearing shoes, real shoes!, not sandals.

But you see, none of my outfits match to my loafers. So when wandering around the mall, I determine to buy flat shoes that are sexy, cute, colourful, but also sensible. The option is something that other people are so used to, but to me is very new: ballerina pumps (guys, if you have no idea what ballerina pumps are, they are flat shoes which very look like ballet shoes, see the picture).

I read somewhere that ballerina pumps' most famous brand is French Sole (forget Chanel, their pumps will cost more than USD 500). But after looking around the mall, I couldn't find French Sole brand, but stumbled upon a cute pair of pumps on sale and they cost only 4 quids! (it's around 80,000 rupiahs, so even for Indonesia, they are really, really cheap!). I feel confident with the brand as well, because I saw them in InStyle magazine too.

Feeling that I hit the jackpot, I bought those candy-colour pumps and were happy to wear that on last Thursday.

Sadly soon after wearing those for an hour, I got a tingling sensation on my toes, which indicated that they were hurt. Second hour passed, and both of my heels were now hurt too, and I was walking around slower. By the third hour I could see blisters on both of my heels, and my toes were getting more hurt in every minute.

When my fiancé called to arrange where to meet me after work, I begged him to bring my Hush Puppies loafers. When he met me at the Espresso Bar, I couldn't hide the pain that showed on my face. My toes, my soles, my heels, all were hurt because of wearing those damn flats. When I told Stuart about it, he replied flatly, "That's what you get when wearing 4 quid shoes...."

Oh dear. I must say goodbye to my candy-colour ballet pumps, I cringe just thinking about wearing them again.

Maybe I should stick to my 9cm heels jewelled sandals after all........

Leaving on A Jet Plane

I'm leaving.
35 days from now, I will be sipping cappuccino in Starbucks, but thousand miles away from here. The coffee will taste the same, but everything else won't.

I'm leaving.
35 days from now, I will be typing my blog in an apartment, but thousand miles away from here. I will type the same crap, but the connection will be a lot faster.

I'm leaving.
35 days from now, I will be in a country that is 6 hours different from Jakarta. The land of Mel Gibson's Braveheart, Harry Potter, men in skirts, bagpipes, tartans, and football mania. I will be able to wear my knee-length boots again.

I'm leaving.
35 days from now, I will be in a city where 10 minutes stuck in a traffic is considered "macet", where everything can be reached in 10 minutes walk. I will be in a city where I could actually see the bright blue sky and not consistent gray like in Jakarta.

I'm leaving.

Where Is Scotland? (modified)

Everywhere I go, when asked where I come from and I said Indonesia, I usually get another question: "Indonesia? Where is it?". Doesn't matter that we are one of the largest countries in the world, we have almost 14,000 islands and almost 400 languages, that we have the second biggest rain forest in the world (after Amazon), we must admit, Indonesia is so poorly advertise themselves people don't know that we exist! Ok, most of them know Bali, but sadly they never have a clue that Bali is a just small part of Indonesia. Maybe now we are more famous because of the terorrist attack (ouch...) but compare to our neighbor who claims that they are "Truly Asia", although they claim so many things that belong to Indonesians (i.e. satay, batik and tempe), we are far behind them.

So it's funny to see that most of the people in Indonesia don't know where Scotland is. The first time I met Stuart, when he said he's from Scotland, I assumed it's somewhere in UK. I was correct, but it's just the same thing by saying Bali is Indonesia.

My dad was having fun of mocking him one night by saying he checked out the website and found out that Aberdeen is in.... Denmark! Poor Stuart spent 30 minutes to draw a UK map on a piece of paper to show him where Scotland is. Although my dad knows exactly where it is, he kept saying that Stuart is Danish, not Scottish. Stuart provided his passport, but then on the passport it is said "The Great Britain and Northern Ireland" so he then spent another 1 hour to explain what it means by The Great Britain, why there is an "and" on the sentence, the history of Ireland, and of course, must explain why Scotland is not mentioned at all!

If asked 'Scotland? Where is it?", Stuart usually answers by saying "You know Sir Alex Fergueson of Manchester United?" Guys usually nod and that would be the end of the discussion (I have no idea how you can connect Man-U with Scotland, just hope those guys don't assume that Manchester is in Scotland!), but of course it doesn't work with girls!

Well, since today is my last day in Scotland before going back to Jakarta, I've found a map that shows the location of Aberdeen, the city of 250,000 people and Scotland's third largest city, where I've been staying during holiday. It's not in Denmark, of course! As long as you have an idea where United Kingdom is, it's easy to figure out where Scotland is located.

Edinburgh has its famous castle where last year had an event to celebrate the new movie of Harry Potter (aha! Now it becomes more clear to you? Good). We visited it last year and I instantly fell in love with it. We went back again to the castle this year, and I still held my breath to see an outstanding grand building before me.

Inverness is the location of the famous monster, Nessie, at Loch Ness. Although Yolanda says that Loch Ness (Lake Ness) is not as beautiful as Lake Toba in North Sumatera (I believe you, darling!), I found the lake is intriguingly mysterious, since the water is dark black, very deep (230m!) and its length reaches 36 km. I didn't meet Nessie, I guess probably it was too scared to show up....

Scotland is also famous for its whisky, and they have so many brands and types of whisky, and Chivas Regal is probably the most common Scottish whisky that Indonesians know. I personally don't like the drink, but we visited the Glenfiddich distillery and it's fascinating to see the process of making their whisky. In their gallery they provide a program that can record our message and picture thru a webcam and send it by email to anyone we want. I made my best dance and sent it to my dad's email address, to show him off that I visited the distillery (days later I found the email was bounced back with message from the operator: suspected spam. Ouch!)

Anyway, hopefully now you know precisely where Scotland is. If you are more curious, you could visit Scotland website.

That makes me wonder, does Indonesia have such official website? We definitely need one!!