Georgetterox

Our nation just saves Sitti Nurbaya inside the school libraries and buries it in the dust, instead of reading and understanding it. No wonder that the caste system is still alive today.

My colleague, a physician, suddenly dumped her boyfriend.

Though the ex’s family is a fame doctor at the capital city and they were gonna get married.

They can’t let go coz my colleague left that man for marrying another guy who’s “just” a petty officer.

A little intermezzo: I used to always consider the forensic stage was useless, coz all I did was just blogging, about how I was often called late at night to the hospital only for cutting the corpses;

and memorizing the ranks of the officers who authorized to writing a visum demand letter.

I learnt nothing except how to steal the attention of the cameramen and photographers, as the press are covering the grave digging.

Now I realize that my professor has given us the very precious lesson at the moment: Never married a bottom-rank man.

He detailed that a general practitioner was a scholar and also a professional.

In the military and police, the same level of the title is just acquired by minimal a moderate soldier.

It meant that if a female doctor wanna have an husband from the alliance of the uniformed-and-armed, get someone who at least is a second lieutenant or higher.

Coz, an husband should be as same as the wife, at least same educated.

So, the relationship of the doctor and the cop is considered abnormal.

Is that much the love that makes the doctor will hook up with the petty officer which was probably just an high-school graduated?

And rumor said that; the voodoo invisibles might’ve mixed up and possessed her.

Coz in the place where I work, another doctor lady has been crushed with a not-yet-even-a-bachelor brooder, and another doctor lady has married a widower which fitted more as her father. Shall we wait until the other voodoo victims fall?

What’s wrong with sergeant?

Did my professor tell the truth that doctor shouldn’t make a sergeant as an husband, coz “their caste is lower”?

So are lieutenants whose level as same as doctors have the higher caste than just the sergeants?

Said a colleague of mine, love doesn’t know ages, status, nor even occupations.

Without ignoring the black magic thing which probably has influenced those physicians (“It’s just Lucifer’s soldiers, they do exist, but if we don’t annoy them, they won’t bother us, either.”), shortly, if love’s been there, all of the caste system rules will be break.

And it can explain why a doctor will marry a sergeant though a rich family has purposed her.

Judging someone from inside of the wallet. Lotta credit cards, may mean lotta money. But it could mean.. lotta debts.

but if the low-class is really our type, what else can we do?

So is it still relevant to consider that the non-bachelors are low-castes?

It depends on the tastes of each believes.

For me, low-caste ain’t viewed from its occupations.

The low-caste is: The one who robs the other people’s treasure, the one who doesn’t keep the faith to his wife, and the one who believes that sealing night-pubs is much more important than solving the starving stomaches of the people. How about you?

Tags: caste; soulmate

I inserted a dollar into that boy’s pocket. He nodded like an angel, then I took his hand getting into the wedding.

There he was, on the wedding stage, I found my ex next to his new bride.

He looked handsome, smiling, and shocked to see me stepped into his party.

In cool I shook his hand, pushed my nose to kiss hi, and said, “Congratz, Darling, uh.. I mean, Brad..”

My ex didn’t reply me. He was more astonished to see the boy that I brought with.

It’s weird that the boy had got my ex’s eyes. Suddenly, the boy shouted, “Daddy..!”

I pretended of choking. “No, Son, that’s not your Dad..”

But the boy insisted to look at my ex and shouted, “Daddy..!”

The bridegroom began to shame. It was suddenly silence at the party.

I got ruddy coz pretending of embarrassed, and hardly I calmed down my “son”. “No, Son, that’s not your Dad..”

“Daddy!” this boy really forced, kept calling the confused man.

Everyone whispered each other, rumored, including the guests, the parents, and especially the bride who looked at us in suspicious minds.

“Daddy..! Daddy..!” the boy even grabbed the bridegroom’s tux, while I pretended of busy to calm him down and trying to “lie” to him that the man wasn’t his Dad.

He

Certainly the story above is just a tale kept safely inside my head.

The idea popped out in a girl’s day out of me with a clique four years ago, while we reviewed together, about an unimportant-but-very-happening question, Will you come to your ex’s wedding?

The past is over, it’s time to get up and date a new man.

Our relationship was doing better since we became just friends only, but I still doubt to answer if I dare to let my ex marry another lady.

He had been belonging to me, and my selfishness told me that I was irreplaceable by any other women for my darling.

Even though I don’t love him like I used to, some part of the bottom of my heart still never lets it go.

The sense of belonging is too huge. That’s why I wanna bring a boy who had my ex’s look, to his wedding.

So I could make a little crash that he’d remind for the rest of his life with his new wife.

Hohoho.. it’s so evil of me..

For your own good, if I came to your high tea in this costume, please don’t let me in. D’you want the spot remains on you as the host, or moves on to me?

I remember how Indra Lesmana was when he still dated Titi DJ 15 years ago.

Used to be lovers and now become friends. Could it be possible?

They were so in love and wrote songs together.

Who’d thought that then Sophia Latjuba would snatch Indra away from her and married him?

The hottest couple.. of that year only.

Instead of mad, Titi married Bucek Depp then and had three kids with.

Sophia had Eva Celia, before she divorced Indra then.

Titi finally left Bucek, Bucek married Unique Priscilla, but Indra just married another lady.

Today, Indra and Titi sat together as the judges of Indonesian Idol for five years in a row.

Titi’s been married for the third, this time with Ovie, which performed wonderfully at the Idol stage.

Behind the judge seats, Sophia watched with her new husband, Michael Villareal, whom she also snatched away from another woman. While Eva Celia was on the audience seats, played SMS with Afgan.

And this bunch of weirdos, none of them intended to return to each of their ex.

For them, the sense of belonging never exists.

I never learn from them. I still wanna bring a boy who’s got my ex’s look on his wedding day.

Just to make him can’t forget me. Coz I’m unforgettable.

Maybe that’s why my ex-s get married at the chance when they’re far away from me.

Like this day, for example, he got married in our hometown while I was meditating at Pulang Pisau.

How would I come to his party and bring a boy, then?

I’d run of budget for homecoming ticket, and it’s not even been X-mas holiday.

I hope it doesn’t rain on his wedding day.

I’m afraid his blue ten will ruin and his party is crashed even without me right there.

My heart’s been broken to realize that he’s grown up and finally picking up another one, while I’m just backpacking myself and losing in stranger places.

I hope his wife loves him enough to dare for getting up early to make him a cup of coffee, everyday for the rest of his life.

Loving, is willing to brew him a cup of coffee, each morning, for the rest of his life.

Coz I don’t love him much for doing it.

My apartment’s gotta be cleaned up. Gotta dinner for me to cook. Got a pile of e-mail to reply.

Got knocked by some people at the messenger for a few chats. Gotta study for a test.

Tomorrow maybe I’ll get consulted from a few patients. Shortly, too much work to do.

I can’t suffer for him. Coz, I have no time for sorrow.

Tags: Never let me walk to your wedding on this dress.

As I stepped my feet at the jewel market of Martapura, I realized that I’d just made a big mistake.

In the beginning I didn’t believe that this is a market. Coz from across the street, it looks like a mosque yard.

Even as I had just already got down from the colt(the local people called this taxi, but I insisted to call it colt.

How poor of being a backpacker who doesn’t drive my own car, I must ride a public vehicle. By the way, you may reach the colt in the bus station of Pal 6 at Banjarmasin. The driver will drive you to Martapura with Rp 9,000.00 as long as you wait until the colt is fully loaded.

You can’t call it a taxi if you ride it with twelve other people inside!), viewing the market across the avenue, my eyes were dazzled of the bling-bling.

Especially as I got into the bunch of shops which sold any kinda necklaces and earrings from many kinda jewels, from balsams to alexandrite; from crystals to American diamond(what American is it; instead all of them were mined on Cempaka), I couldn’t hold myself for not buying one or two.

You may pick up anything you like, all of your favorite colors are here.

You can just buy the bracelet only or you can buy the pairs of the ring and the brooch, too.

As long as you dare for bargaining, and you may let your foot ache of walking from a shop to another just for finding the cheaper ones.

If you bargain the jewellery well, you may take the jewels home cheaply. It’s better if you speak in Banjar accent, don’t be like me who still use awkward Javanese-Sundanese accent.

I’d bought one (one for me, one for my Mom, one for my sista, one for my aunt, and one for whatever) in a shop, still felt addicted to buy another more style in the other shop.

These hundred-thousands-rupiahs rings are our lesson that never drive to Martapura if you don’t bring much cash. Or for your own sanity, have no money with you at all!

If you don’t wanna be trapped in panic in the bling-bling of the jewels here like me, please plan first at home, what kinda jewelleries you’re buying.

Coz all of the sparkling of the rocks here is seductive, so if finally you don’t wear them at home, that’s too bad.

It’s better if you’d known which outfit that you’ll wear with the jewel; e.g if you dress in red, then you may buy a red diamond which probably matches the dress.

Displayed massal and the looks are same as the others. It’s weird that we’ve never been this confused when we pick up the diamonds in Frank & Co. Jewellery.

But if you’ve already cast away in this market without knowing which dress at home that you’ll match with the rock that you buy, you may grab the Banjar’s batik Sasirangan which sold here, too.

The brooch creation by Martapura artists, chained by combination of a lotta rocks and inserted a plastic stone inside. Pay Rp 100,000.00 for three pieces.

For your info, the batiks here got three qualities which ranged among 200-450 thousands rupiahs.

The Blue one is a silk and the next is a second-quality of semi-silk. Should touching it yourself to understand it. Too bad that the attendants didn’t show me the brighter colors.

Not much for souvenirs for your moms and your aunts at home, but I warn you that never make these batiks into shirts, coz honestly, their looks remind me to the uniform of a bellboy in my hotel.

And my last tip, don’t bring your men with you, coz they’ll be bored of following us who restlessly walking around the market just for admiring the displayed jewels.

Have them pay us, but don’t wish that they can help us picking up the rocks.

If you must have them with you (especially for driving the car to Martapura which is an hour driving away from Banjarmasin), tell them to hang out to Cempaka village, the center of diamond mining which is just an half hour driving from Martapura.

But if you’re afraid that they’ll even joining the diamond digging right there, you may just leave them in the wadai market ahead the jewel market, and let them pick up their favorite snacks.

People sell all kinda Banjar gourmets here, especially the wadais in cute colors, klepon, dodol Kandangan, even lempok Pontianak.

Your men are fully filled, while we get vertigo coz the bling-bling has dazzled our eyes.

Diamond is the woman’s best friend!

This is my look after I picked up the jewels until got sick and still don’t wanna go home.

Besides Brad Pitt and restroom.

Tags: Bring more money or none at all!

Said the old grandma, bless comes in the morning.

But today I learn that at MartapuraRiver, blessing doesn’t come in the morning, but it comes in the dawn!

Like a braveheart I continue my journey as a backpacker by sailing the MartapuraRiver which parts the Banjarmasin. Main destination: The floating market!

I was deceived coz I just reminded about the map of Banjarmasin

, that the river

But exactly the river is only in a certain corner of the river; and you can’t hail any common boat on any common quay only for sailing the river, instead on the land where you can hail any taxi on any shelters just for reaching a minimarket.

The citizens have realized how excited the tourists like me seeing the floating market, so they build a special quay

If you wanna order a klotok, you just need to walk to this quay. Please come in group, coz a klotok charges an hundred thousand rupiahs for a little group.

 for ordering a klotok to get us sailing there.

Each klotok loads eight people or ten, whose bodies are as light as Naomi Campbell like me

(why should use Naomi as the parameter? Instead using Hulk, you can’t imagine it easily!

Beside the boat loads two Hulks only. So different!)

Then there we sail for an hour, excitedly watching the boats on the river trading

This lady gets up at dawn, loads her purchases into her boat, then she rows the boat to the market on her own, alone. Everyday.

 any kinda vegetables and fishes.

As a tourists klotok comes around, the vendors attack out and offers their purchases.

I can’t hold myself from this view (you won’t see anybody trades spinaches over a gondola at Venice, will you?)

, and capture all the things.

While I’m throwing a shoot, suddenly our klotok is resisted and can’t move away.

A vendor has hooked her boat to our klotok, then she sticks out her basket and offers us her oranges.

Oranges? Sweet..!

Wow..!

I’ve been used to see people wash their outfits and defecate by naked on the river,

People washes their outfits by defecating, naked on the river. The proof of life that the issue of pornography is “so last year”!

but I still gap as the sailor brings us nearing another klotok which is actually a soto café.

Relax waiting for the soto which cooked over the boat. These Bandung engineers collaborate with me to sail a klotok together to the floating market. Thanx, Guys!

It’s a boat café, and the café only loads a little group of a klotok.

It sells soto Banjar, soto karih, and rawon; so special for the starving tourists after satisfied of watching the floating market.

But only God knows what kinda water that the cook uses for dish-washing, :P..

I doubt a while, coz I’m afraid of diarrhea instead; but for once in a lifetime, finally I grab a portion.

I eat the soto over the boat and I don’t leave any flesh at all. Fully filled, happy, and thank God.. no diarrhea attacks!

Only in Martapura river. I won’t do this at Cikapundung or Ciliwung river!

Too bad actually, when we come, the floating market is about to end.

It’s not only cars which made the carport. Even the boat has a “boat port”, too.

So these boats in my pictures are just the rests.

The sailor says that my too-early coming is too late.

If I really wanna go to the market, just come in dawn.

That’s why in Martapura river, noon.

Coz right here, instead of coming in the morning, but the blessing comes in the dawn!

Tags: but it costs too much!, Floating market is too cute for visiting