Suryo Wibowo

Selamat Natal, Saudaraku!

2011-12-26T14:37:00.008+07:00

While more than 2,000 years ago Mary could not find a proper place to deliver her baby, this year a church in Indonesia still has no place to celebrate Christmas.

begitulah tulis harian berbahasa Inggris, the Jakarta Globe dalam Two Days Before Christmas, No Place for GKI Yasmin

Sudah 3 tahun berlalu, jemaat Gereja Kristen Indonesia Taman Yasmin Bogor, Jawa Barat tak bisa beribadah di dalam gedung gerejanya sendiri. Kasus sengketa IMB yang digulirkan oleh pemerintah kota Bogor di bawah Diani Budiarto yang didukung oleh ormas yang entah dari mana asalnya, menamakan diri "warga setempat" dan "umat Islam" terkesan seakan dibuat-buat. Bahkan penentangan keberadaan gereja ini pada awalnya adalah keberatan bahwa gereja berdiri di sebuah jalan yang namanya diambil dari nama seorang ulama besar: KH. Abdullah bin Nuh.
Tahun 2011 ini, jemaat GKI Yasmin kembali tak bisa beribadah Natal karena hak konstitusionalnya memang diingkari oleh pemerintahan Diani Budiarto di Bogor.

Selama ini, saya hanya bisa mengelus dada sendiri, menggebuk-gebuk bantal atau guling, menenggelamkan wajah saya sembari berteriak di dalam bantal dan mengomel kepada teman-teman betapa geramnya saya melihat berita-berita tentang GKI Yasmin yang tidak dipenuhi haknya oleh pemerintah.
Sementara saya mengira saya sedang sial tidak mendapat tiket pulang ke Yogyakarta, ternyata adalah berkah bagi saya. Karena Natal tahun ini, saya mendapat hadiah indah! Hadiah itu adalah kesempatan melihat sejuknya persaudaraan dan persahabatan meski terancam dengan suasana permusuhan dan saling curiga.

Jam masih menunjukkan 04:20 ketika saya memacu sepeda motor pinjaman menembus sepinya jalanan Jakarta menuju Bogor. Rute yang harus saya lewati saya tuliskan dalam secarik kertas yang ada di dalam saku jaket, maklum sekedar orang daerah berlibur di ibukota. Menuju Bogor adalah perkara tak begitu susah. Menuju GKI Yasmin adalah perkara blokade polisi yang memang tak mengijinkan siapapun lewat.
Jemaat tak bisa masuk, seperti biasa, apalagi kali ini memang tidak mendapat ijin dari pemerintah kota Bogor untuk beribadah. Bisa dibayangkan jika kita harus meminta ijin pada pak Lurah atau RT/RW setempat sebelum berkomunikasi dengan Tuhan yang kita yakini?

Polisi berjaga, sekedar menjaga agar tidak terjadi keributan tetapi berkesan tidak tegas karena beberapa kali para penentang keberadaan GKI Yasmin mampu menerobos blokade polisi.
Sementara itu, para penentang toleransi terus menerus menyalahgunakan kalimat-kalimat suci Alquran untuk melampiaskan amarah mereka. Seharusnya, ayat-ayat suci itu mereka pergunakan untuk memuliakan Tuhan, bukan membenarkan diri mereka atas nama amarah yang meluap-luap. Ahhh...tapi siapa saya..pun bagi mereka, saya ini hanya seorang kafir!

Pagi itu saya terus mengikuti ibadah jemaat GKI Yasmin di rumah salah seorang umat, sembari bermandi keringat, ikut menyaksikan ibadah yang teduh, bersama teman-teman lintas agama dan para pendukung keberagaman. Itulah hadiah Natal bagi saya tahun ini. Melihat semuanya tersenyum, tanpa meninggalkan jati diri masing-masing; tanpa memaksakan identitas ke orang lain.

Bagi saya, yang terindah adalah ketika manusia itu dipahami sebagai manusia. Bukan pemeluk agama, ummat, umat, jemaat, jemaah atau apapun namanya. Manusia.

in absentia and a new beginning..

2011-06-06T23:31:00.004+07:00

It's been 4 months since my last post on this blog. But it doesn mean that I'm being idle and not doing anything. I just trapped in daily routines and forgot to post anything on this blog.

I apologize to everybody who still care to visit and read my blog.

----

I went back to my home city, Yogyakarta, because of my still unfinished studium. My family, my friends, my girlfriend urged me to finish it! I left Jakarta with this single reason: finishing my study. But for a while, I was trapped in laziness. This is the biggest enemy, which sleeps and lives inside everyone, including me!

Well, months passed doing my routines as a student, doing papers, attending classes and discussion. No photos for a while, only when I got assignments from TEMPO weekly, for some portraits or special edition.

But at the end of March, I got a call from Jakarta which asked me to fill the empty position for daily TEMPO Newspaper in Yogyakarta, since my predecessor was leaving for a position as a state officer!

At the beginning, I refused it, since I knew that some friends (other photojournalists from other newspaper or magazine) in this city tried to get referred as the suitable photojournalist for TEMPO. One othere thing kept bugging me was just my study. So what should I do? My senior in Jakarta told me that this wouldnt be hard, well not as hard as Jakarta. My girlfriend said that "a chance won't come twice, but you have to be strict to your self". And she said: "it's a good way to discipline your laziness, to wipe it out of your mind!".... what the heck...

OK, she was and they were right. I took the risk of not being able to finish my study...but I tried to think about "disciplining my self"...right...

So here are some of my works during April 2011. I'm sorry for Indonesian caption, I'll try to change it into english, once I got the chance again...

and you need Flash Player to play the picasa slideshow...

as usual, I'm open to suggestion and criticism...

Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer

Mr. William Wongso for TEMPO

2011-02-16T13:17:00.003+07:00

recently I got the chance to photograph a famous Indonesian cook: Mr. William Wongso for TEMPO Magazine.
The issue focusing on his attempt to promote locally and handmade tempe to the world. He put it in Garuda's International Flights Menu.
According to Mr. Wongso, the average Indonesian dont know anymore about locally and hand made tempe wrapped in banana leaves. Not in a big portion, but in very small portion, triangle shaped and using almost no other chemical such as conserver or benzoat. It's made usually in home industry in villages and therefore, today, it's beaten by big tempe industry on the market.

A nice mission, mr. Wongso!

PS: I did bought alot of tempe in preparation of the shoot. After the shoot, I brought all of the left tempe home, gave it to neighbours. Even after giving tempe to neighbours, I had to eat tempe for the next 4 days..it was alot...

ok..enjoy the tempe...

Merapi - Silence of the Ash

2011-01-30T22:21:00.000+07:00

Merapi eruptions on October 26th and November 5th, 2010 has forced thousands to flee and hundreds died.
These were the leftover of the civilization.
All of a sudden, Merapi, the big best friend, who gave them food and place to live erupted and sweep the civilization on its feed to pieces.

Flat to the ground.

All the traces of civilization were buried deep under volcanic ashes.
Grey as the memories which come with it, and sad as lives were lost.
Villages were buried in ashes, like snow, only this were not cold, but hot, and it boiled those victims.

Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer

also in JPG Magazine Silence of the Ash

Merapi after November 5th, 2010

2010-11-12T08:20:00.005+07:00

In seconds, minutes, and hours, and within days and nights, the calamity rages from the summit of Merapi. The eruption is like the angry shouts of gods who overturn the cycle of life in a second. More than 100 people perished, thousands injured.
The rivers flow black water as though cursed as in a witchcraft stories. The valleys become faded and pale, the blue forests which used to wind around the slopes of Merapi become bone-dry from the volcanic magma. Thunders, ashes and lava force out hundreds of thousands of humans from their homes into refugee shelters, kept alive by the sincerity and ceaseless works of the volunteers. And Kinahrejo changes its face into the land of death engulfed in grayish silver ashes.
Humans run, shouting the name of God, thousands carry whomever and whatever they can rescue. Cries and prayers blend in the air, mixed with sorrow and losses. Disasters come indiscriminately. But Merapi “chose” the November 5 to belch out its rage. as a result, the sorrowful panorama spreads in Yogyakarta, Klaten, Magelang, and Muntilan, wherever it could be: thousands of people howl in sadness while the children fidget in the arms their father and mother.

text by: Hermien Y. Kleden, Bismo Agung

photos by: Suryo Wibowo

----
This story was published on TEMPO English Edition November 10-16th, 2010 with the text collaboration from Hermine Y. Kleden and Bismo Agung. The pictures were made from October 26th - November 8th, 2010.
You may use the pictures free for charity. Contact me via email - wibowosuryo@gmail.com
or text me +6285868511108

Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer

Crocs Madness

2010-10-25T19:45:00.006+07:00

Everybody knows Crocs, the famous rubber shoes brand from Boulder, Colorado.

Originated for boating shoes because of their slip resistant sole, Crocs has become an icon in fashion. And fashion, better than function, is loved by Indonesian.

We care more about it's fashion value than it's function. We don't own boats and do activity on the beach anymore since it's heavily poluted! So why make fuzz about the slip-resistant sole? As long as it's trendy, funky, and most of all pricy, than it suits us.

Yep! Not only because it's colorfull, light and durable, but also because it's (well for most Indonesian) expensive. It is a status symbol!

The news about the Crocs big sale on March 15-19th, 2010 has spread long before the days. These are the long awaited days for Crocs lovers in Indonesia.

The madness begun with the length of the queue. Senayan City Mall has only 8 floors. And the queue has filled up until the main gate. Security and service personels have reroutes the queue along the floors so that it would be manageable. Perimeter has been set up using ropes and chair. While waiting to climb to the 8th floors, they may seated, even if it only for few seconds. They would check their BlackBerry, tell other friends that "I am in the middle of the queue at Crocs Big Sale!"...

Elevators usage were controlled. Once for the Crocs queue, once for the other passers in the Senayan City mall...

Once inside the hall on the 8th floor, the hell breaks out!

Racing, rushing and running for Crocs...

enjoy the pictures...

finding max havelaar

2010-06-13T22:44:00.005+07:00

Who is Max Havelaar?

A friend of mine asked this question when he heard of the name...
Withount Max Havelaar, the world would never know about the sufferings in Dutch East Indies, which is now known as Indonesia.

Max Havelaar: Or the Coffee Auctions of the Dutch Trading Company is a wellknown novel written in 1860 by Multatuli (the pen name of Eduard Douwes Dekker) which was to play a key role in shaping and modifying Dutch colonial policy in the Dutch East Indies in the nineteenth and early twentieth century. Douwes-Dekker told the sufferings of local farmers in Dutch East Indies due to the cultivation policy, which was implemented by the Dutch imperial government. This policy combines the demand of growing tradable crops such as tea or coffee instead of staple food such as rice; and a new tax system, in which the collecting agents (those mean the local kings) were paid by commission. These two were resulting in starvation among the farmers and abuse of power by the local kings.

Multatuli was working as assistant-resident in Lebak, Banten and by the time he was there, however, all the secrets of Dutch administration were known to him, and he had begun to openly protest about the abuses of the colonial system. He resigned from his post and returned to Netherland and began writing Max Havelaar.

His novel Max Havelaar opened the eyes of the western world and resulted in policy change in the Dutch East Indies. With this new awareness, the ethic policy, which means paying the debts to suffering locals such as with opening education.

Indonesian writer, Pramoedya Ananta Toer has argued that Max Havelaar was also responsible for triggering the nationalist movements with these education reforms, which resulted the independency of Indonesia in 1945. Toer called Max Havelaar as:

"the book that killed colonialism"

What about today? What happened with the former Dutch East Indies? Is it free from colonialism? Who still knows about Multatuli, Max Havelaar, Saijah and Adinda?

Far away from Jakarta, in a remote village called Ciseel in Lebak District (Banten Province), a young man started a reading group with the local children. He called it Multatuli Reading Group. Together with around 15 children, they read Max Havelaar, which is the first book ever, written by a foreigner and telling stories about their homeland; their sufferings during the colonialism.

Together they read and discuss the inspirational stories in this book. And the small library which it's small collection of magazines and books has been their window to the world.

While children at their age in the city were looking for the sensational porn videos of indonesian artists, they were eager to spend their time reading used magazines, books and also novels in the small house.

I spent a night in the village with a reporter and we were disappearing from the noisy life in the capital into an unknown tranquil village far away from everywhere. No television; electric lamps were in some houses which own or share small solar energy and no cell phone reception. The humid and cold air had freshened the soul.

Their interest to read the book has caught me and brought me to read it. But I fell asleep after reading the first 4 chapters. I promise to read it until finished.

read more infos about the reading group here: Multatuli Reading Group

Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer

Hatta Rajasa and Conspiracy in TEMPO magazine

2010-05-28T22:38:00.008+07:00

TEMPO, May 30th, 2010
Interview with Hatta Rajasa, Indonesian Coordinating Minister for Economy and Musician Portraiture, Conspiracy Band

click on each picture to read the article (indonesian) on tempointeraktif.com

Interview with Lech Walesa in TEMPO magazine

2010-05-28T22:33:00.007+07:00

TEMPO - Indonesia (May 23rd, 2010) and TEMPO - English (May 25th, 2010)

on Interview with ex polish president and Nobel peace prize laureate, Lech Walesa

Click on the image above to read the interview (indonesian)

some past publications in TEMPO Magazine

2010-05-28T22:09:00.005+07:00

Here are some past publications in TEMPO Magazine

TEMPO Magazine, March 23rd, 2010

TEMPO Magazine, April 24th, 2010

On Going Project: needles...

2010-05-20T02:46:00.006+07:00

Do you see something?

I'm sure you see it! You will be as surprised as I am if you knew how many open, and used needles lying around on Jakarta's streets, corners, etc where children can reach it and later play with the dreams to be a doctor. They would playing doctor and start inject their friends.

It hurts me to see children grow up in an environment, where the adults are more attracted to use heroine, and any other drugs than to feed their children. It hurts me so much when I saw a maybe 2 years old girl, eating, naked and so dirty in front of the house, while 3 meters away a man injected himself with heroine.

This is an on going project. About children and the exposure to drugs, used needles and HIV/AIDS. They are innocent. Those children are victims who unable to protect themselves.

for facebook...

2010-01-29T11:59:00.004+07:00

buat fb! (for facebook)
ntar di-tag ya! (tag me on that later, ok!)
Like this banget dah! (Like this)
iiih lucu, gue juga mau doong! (iiiih funny, i want it tooo!)

...

how pathetic...

i am curious about what's on their mind taking picture with the background standing riot police squad with their shields...is really demonstration now fun and joyfull event? so why the riot police squad with helmets, battons and sticks?

but really, facebook change the way we see the reality, the way we see our society and our social networks...people takes pictures only for the one sole purpose...facebook!

just another way to write on the wall "i was here, i was there"...

no pictures is really fit in my mind...

Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer

hovel

2010-01-17T15:00:00.010+07:00

imagine the world, where...

the word "playground" is equal to "garbage"

the word "trash bin" is unknown

the word "earth" is equal to "landfill"

jakarta, 17.01.2009

Masterpiece: Batik Indonesia - Don't Touch!

2009-10-02T11:56:00.004+07:00

Batik (Javanese pronunciation: [ˈbateʔ]; Indonesian pronunciation: [ˈbaːtik]; English: /ˈbætɪk/ or /bəˈtiːk/) is cloth which traditionally uses a manual wax-resist dyeing technique.

UNESCO designated Indonesian batik, as a Masterpiece of Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity on 2nd October, 2009.

"The techniques, symbolism and culture surrounding hand-dyed cotton and silk garments known as Indonesian Batik permeate the lives of Indonesians from beginning to end: infants are carried in batik slings decorated with symbols designed to bring the child luck, and the dead are shrouded in funerary batik. Clothes with everyday designs are worn regularly in business and academic settings, while special varieties are incorporated into celebrations of marriage and pregnancy and into puppet theatre and other art forms. The garments even play the central role in certain rituals, such as the ceremonial casting of royal batik into a volcano. Batik is dyed by proud craftspeople who draw designs on fabric using dots and lines of hot wax, which resists vegetable and other dyes and therefore allows the artisan to colour selectively by soaking the cloth in one colour, removing the wax with boiling water and repeating if multiple colours are desired. The wide diversity of patterns reflects a variety of influences, ranging from Arabic calligraphy, European bouquets and Chinese phoenixes to Japanese cherry blossoms and Indian or Persian peacocks. Often handed down within families for generations, the craft of batik is intertwined with the cultural identity of the Indonesian people and, through the symbolic meanings of its colours and designs, expresses their creativity and spirituality."

UNESCO on Inscribed in 2009 on the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity

so, DON'T TOUCH !!!

Overloaded

2009-09-24T18:50:00.012+07:00

mudik (Indonesian, verb)
travelling back to where the migrants come from. The biggest wave happened several days before the Idul Fitri (islamic holiday).

One of the common way for mudik is using the train, which has transported 65.000 passengers daily since 5 days before the holiday. The condition in the economy class is sadden and it's still stay the same since years before. Overloaded, overcrowded, privacyless, facilityless and comfortless.

Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer

Disaster Tourism

2009-09-08T00:46:00.008+07:00

Have you ever felt small? That day I felt small and powerless as a normal human being seeing what I saw there.

Those stones are as big as houses, fallen apart from a 200m tall cliff in front of me. I realized, that underneath this giants, there were bodies; houses; memories; and loves buried away with force of the nature which can't be stopped by any human power.

The earthquake's epicenter was far away, but the wave produced by the quake (7,8 at the Richter scale) had torn the cliff and filled up the 5 hectares in front of it. Unfortunately, there were houses, families, human beings on the site. They can't escape the speed of gravity and the momentum of falling stone from a height over the trees. 70 people were reported missing, only 29 found (until Monday, September 7th, 2009). They couldn't escape the speed and force of nature.

Aftermath

Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer

The bumpy broken road would make it harder for the rescue team and heavy machinery to reach the place. But it won't stop those villagers coming on their modified (some were built so low, only about 5 cm from the stony road, but it passed).

After a 230 kilometers journey on the motorcycle to Babakan Caringin, Cikangkareng, West Java, Indonesia and with hungry stomach I reached the site with my companion, Wisnu. We decided to walk down so that we won't force the motorcycle too much (indeed we had forced it too much...). I was afraid that it won't come out alive... Lucky for us, someone wanted to take us down on their car, so that we won't have to walk so far.

On the site, there were hundreds of people. Coming around from villages far and near. Some were in colorful clothes, some were in batik. I could see some children climbing from stone to stone. Fathers carried their babies on their shoulder. What are they doing there? Certainly they looked not really like rescue team or pathfinder...

Yes they were "disaster tourists". Welcome to the disaster's ground zero!
Only there is no entrance ticket like in those amusement parks. I'm amazed how this people ignored the warning that some of those stone might still unstable and there were still danger of more falling stone from the cliff.

Some police officers warned them, but it get caught in the wind and the voices never reached them. The police had not put some parameter lines to keep people away so that the evacuation team can work and the risk would be minimized.

It was like ants with a pool of syrup. The ants need some food, so does those people needed some entertainment. only it's the wrong place..because like the syrup might also kills the ant if it trapped inside, so can those giants kill all of us suddenly, collaborating only with gravity and bad luck...

Are we Indonesian really need entertainment so bad so that we would come like ants to the catastrophic site?

...my friends in the glass jar...

2009-08-23T12:13:00.002+07:00

some portraits of my crazy friends...

Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer

1707 Attack on Indonesia!

2009-07-18T00:27:00.002+07:00

Presidential election has just passed...more than a week ago. The next schedule: awaited match between Indonesian National Team vs. Manchester United.

Kaboom! Kaboom....

The explosions at 7:40 shocked the world. Not the vibration or sound or the smoke. But the essence. It has been a quite time without bomb blasts anymore in Jakarta. And the country is trying to prove to the world, that those travel warnings, issued by foreign countries, are hoax and should no longer be followed.

This bombs today destroy our hope of peace in this country. It closes the international doors again for Indonesia. And it kills people! It hurts!

#01 - dagdigdug duerrrrr....

2009-07-02T22:15:00.001+07:00

Gambar rumput dan batu di luar jendela semakin kabur menghilang paralel bersama arah perginya waktu ketika aku duduk di dekat pintu.

Tak ada imaji jelas kutangkap melalui mataku yang semakin silap dan semakin tak mampu menangkap cahaya yang masih muda. Semuanya kabur seperti juga rumput dan batu di luar yang melaju seperti kereta api di masa fajar.

Jantungku..dag...kucoba...dig...kurasa...dug...dag...tapi...dag...tapi...

Jantungku kucoba kurasa, tapi tak terasa, detakannya telah dimakan goyangan kereta itu. Tak ada lagi aku, yang ada hanyalah kereta itu. Melaju mendekati ibukota...

Semakin dekat, semakin dekat, semakin dekat...

Dan sekali lagi semakin dekat, kereta itu mengembalikan padaku detak jantungku pelan-pelan tapi menyiksa.

Semakin dekat, semakin banyak detak jantungku yang dikembalikannya...
dag dag dag dig dig dag dag dig dug dag...
semakin lambat bunyi sambungan besi rel yang terantuk ke bantalan beton, justru semakin cepat dan keras bunyi detak jantungku merembes melalui kulitku...

semakin dekat ibukota...jleg...jleg...jleg..........jleg...........jleg....................jleg.....
semakin dekat...dagdigdugdagdigdugdagdigdug....jleg....
semakin..ciiiiiitttt dag digdugdagdigd ug dag dig dug da gdi gdug
ibukota!!

jantungku berhenti di sini...

[ waria of Yogyakarta ]

2009-06-29T18:06:00.006+07:00

An old collection of mine. A documentary in 2006 about some waria friends in my home town Yogyakarta. I hope you'll like it.

Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer

a book and a friend

2009-04-17T17:33:00.005+07:00

"Books serve to show a man that those original thoughts of his aren't very new after all."

Abraham Lincoln

a day with a friend

2009-04-17T16:47:00.009+07:00

"Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day.

Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime."

Confucius

kisah orang asli indonesia #4 - tua dalam kesepian atau sepi dalam tua?

2009-02-10T21:42:00.008+07:00

Mereka bisa jadi disebut beruntung, bisa jadi pula disebut buntung,
Mereka bisa jadi manusia yang telah menerima takdir, bisa jadi pula mereka masih terbebani dengan berbagai pikiran dan harapan.

Saya menjadi bertanya pada diri saya sendiri. Sebenarnya siapa yang salah ketika ada orang-orang usia lanjut yang harus berjuang menyambung hidup dengan mengemis?

Mereka hidup di jalan, di negara ini yang sangat bangga dengan sikap kekeluargaan dan toleransi tingginya. Saya hanya menjadi bertanya kemana anak-anak mereka? Kenapa mereka masih harus hidup di jalan bermandi peluh di usia tua? Apa yang mereka lakukan saat mereka muda? Apakah mereka tak pernah mempunyai kesempatan untuk kemudian berkembang dan memapankan diri? Apakah hanya karena modal? Ataukah memang mereka dulu malas?

Jawaban apapun akan tetap membuat saya merasa lemas membayangkan diri saya sendiri menjadi tua. Lebih pahit kiranya jika harus hidup di jalan, tanpa anak, cucu yang disebut keluarga. Dan tanpa orang lain yang merasa perlu membantu.

Memang gambaran setiap orang adalah tua dalam suasana santai. Ada yang ingin berkebun mawar, anthorium, berternak jangkrik atau sekedar membaca buku cerita di teras rumah. Kakek dan nenek ingin dikelilingi cucu, cicit yang akan membelai ingin tahu keriput kulit tua mereka, sesekali membaui lemak yang hampir mengering bersama usia. Hampir tidak ada orang Indonesia yang mau diasingkan ke dalam sebuah panti jompo. Dan tak ada anak yang berani secara eksplisit ingin mengasingkan orang tua mereka ke dalam panti jompo, bahkan berpikiran pun mereka tidak pernah!

***

Angka harapan hidup diartikan sebagai:

"alat untuk mengevaluasi kinerja pemerintah dalam meningkatkan kesejahteraan penduduk pada umumnya, dan meningkatkan derajat kesehatan pada khususnya."

Negara Indonesia mempunyai angka 67,9 di tahun 2007, terendah di ASEAN!
Dengan ini, piramida populasi Indonesia mempunyai bentuk yang menyerupai dengan kubah masjid. Angka kelahiran tinggi, jumlah generasi produksi tinggi, dan jumlah orang tua semakin sedikit.

Berkebalikan dengan Indonesia adalah Jerman. Pada umumnya orang Jerman enggan berreproduksi. Angka kelahiran di Jerman adalah 8,18/1000 penduduk di tahun 2008. Angka ini adalah yang paling kecil di Eropa. Sementara itu, angka harapan hidupnya adalah usia 79,1! Sementara itu, model piramida populasi yang tergambarkan dari keseluruhan penduduk adalah piramida terbalik. Sampai-sampai, pemerintah Jerman mengenakan pajak yang lebih rendah bagi mereka yang memiliki anak.

Setelah pensiun, umumnya mereka akan menjalani mimpi yang mereka miliki ketika muda. Berkebun, duduk santai. Dan lucunya sebagian besar dari mereka berharap untuk tidak menyusahkan anak-anak mereka, sehingga memilih untuk mengasingkan diri di panti jompo. Kalau orang jawa bilang "madheg pandito ratu, lengser keprabon". Mereka akan hidup dalam kesepian di antara rekan seangkatan, obat-obatan dan pengawasan ketat para penjaga. Tetapi mereka akan duduk dengan santai, menikmati negara membiayai makan mereka hari demi hari. Dokter jaga dan penjaga yang membantu mereka membersihkan kotoran setelah buang hajat pun dibayar oleh negara! Hasil dari pembayaran asuransi pensiun dan hari tua ketika mereka masih muda dahulu...

***

Sementara itu...mbah Tum duduk sendiri menghitung uang ribuan dan beberapa keping limaratus rupiah nya. Dilipatnya uang kumal itu ke dalam salah satu lipatan selendang batiknya. Hari itu tahun baru Cina, di depan klenteng, dari pagi hingga siang terik itu, ia mengantri. Rp 6500 ia dapat hari itu. "Untuk beli ma'em" katanya. Bau badannya menyengat, rambutnya putih beruban semi kekuningan, bercampur lemak dan keringat tak pernah tercuci. Bajunya kotor, jarinya dekil, dan ia hidup di jalan. Sendiri, tanpa keluarga di tengah masyarakat yang bangga dengan rasa kekeluargaan dan toleransi sesama itu. Dan jauh dari mata negara yang berkoar bahwa "fakir miskin dan anak-anak terlantar dipelihara oleh negara"...

kisah orang asli indonesia #3 - takut ama setan, tapi selalu nonton film hantu dan wisata ke tempat angker!

2009-02-04T21:38:00.006+07:00

Entah kenapa orang Indonesia suka berwisata di tempat yang terkenal angker ini (termasuk saya). Selalu saja ada yang datang. Dan sekalipun terkenal angker, sampai dibuatkan sebuah film khusus, Lawang Sewu membuka pintunya itu hingga tengah malam!

Kesempatan mampir malam kali ini lebih diwarnai oleh cerita mistis dan kelabu dari sang pemandu. Informasi non metafisik yang kami terima tak lebih dari yang bisa kita baca di internet. Sekalipun dalam panduan pemandu saya tidak merasa ngeri melihat gedung tua ini, tetapi saya yakin, saya tak akan berani masuk sana sendirian kalau malam hari.

Maklum, saya orang Indonesia...

kisah orang asli indonesia #2 - gerhana matahari cincin

2009-01-28T01:38:00.003+07:00

Bosan rasanya mendengar pertanyaan: "Sudah tau kalau tanggal 26 nanti ada gerhana?" Sudah...sudah...sudah...

Tetapi tersenyum sendiri ketika mencoba memecah keheningan dengan bertanya "Sudah tau kalau pas hari raya Imlek nanti akan ada gerhana?"
Semua orang tampak ingin tahu dan ingin menjadi saksi sejarah.

Hampir 26 tahun lalu (1983) terjadi pula gerhana matahari total yang bisa terlihat secara utuh selama 15 menit 11 detik di beberapa tempat di Indonesia. Di mana-mana dilakukan persiapan dan gembar-gembor ditebarkan untuk menjadikan momentum tersebut sumber devisa sehari.

NASA yang tersohor itu pun mengirimkan ahli ke Tanjung Kodok Pasuruan untuk mengamati gerhana ini. Kedatangan para orang asing dan turis ini dikhawatirkan pemerintah akan menuai gangguan keamanan. Operasi yang kemudian hari dikenal dengan sebutan PETRUS yang digelar pada saat itu semakin pula dilegitimasi dengan kemungkinan gangguan keamanan ini.

Belum puas dengan itu, dibentangkanlah spanduk yang membungkam keingintahuan manusia Indonesia.
"Dilarang keras melihat langsung gerhana matahari total. Mata Anda akan menjadi buta. Kecuali melalui siaran TV tanggal 11 Juni jam 09.15-13.00"
Tak ada stasiun televisi lain waktu itu selain untuk menjalin persatuan dan kesatuan.

26 Januari 2009, waktu sudah berganti. Informasi yang didapat dari media massa nasional tentang gerhana ini sudah cukup lengkap. Tetapi sebagian besar manusia hanya bisa terpuaskan dengan visual, langsung dengan mata, bukan melalui lensa kamera.

Di Lampung, salah satu kota yang akan dilintasi gerhana, ratusan orang berkumpul di lapangan untuk menyaksikan gerhana tersebut. Di Semarang, penonton gerhana rela memanjat atap rumah tetangga untuk bisa melihat gerhana yang prosesnya seringkali tertutup awan putih.

Tak ada lagi spanduk macam yang terbit 26 tahun silam. Masyarakat kita telah berubah. Seandainya spanduk seperti itu ada, saya cukup yakin bahwa hanya akan menjadi bahan tertawaan.

Yang menjadi pertanyaan justru: "Berita akan adanya gerhana ini untuk menutup apa ya?"

Kalau memang tak ketemu, mungkin karena tak ada cahaya matahari sesaat, akibat ditelan oleh raksasa jahat...

kisah orang asli indonesia #1

2008-12-17T06:35:00.000+07:00

KUTIPAN BERITA DARI DETIK.COM - 16 DESEMBER 2008

Golput Telah Langgar Hukum Islam

- Aprizal Rahmatullah

Jakarta - Wacana fatwa haram untuk Golput yang dilontarkan Ketua MPR Hidayat Nurwahid didukung ketua Pengurus Besar Nahdhatul Ulama (PBNU) Hasyim Muzadi. Hasyim menilai Golput dengan tujuan untuk menolak pemilu telah melanggar hukum Islam.

"Kalau Golput untuk meniadakan Pemilu tentu bertentangan secara syar'i. Pemilu hukumnya kan wajib, karena sebagai sarana untuk menegakkan kekuasaan," ujar Hasyim kepada wartawan di kantor DPP Partai Persatuan Pembangunan (PPP), Jl. Diponegoro, Jakarta Pusat, Senin (15/12/2008).

Menurut Hasyim, Golput itu ada 2 jenis. Pertama, Golput dengan tujuan meniadakan pemilu dan Golput karena malas.

"Kalo Golput karena malas, maka pemilunya yang harus instropeksi," terang mantan calon presiden 2004 ini.

Oleh karenanya, Hasyim sepakat jika fatwa haram diberlakukan. Ia mendukung fatwa haram bagi golput seperti yang diusulkan Hidayat.

"Ya, saya setuju," tandasnya.

Sebelumnya, Hidayat menyerukan agar dibuat fatwa bersama antara MUI, NU dan Muhammadiyah untuk mengharamkan Golput. Menurutnya, fatwa itu diperlukan karena saat ini banyak masyarakat yang apatis terhadap pemilu.

Terhadap usulan ini juga ada pihak yang pro dan kontra. Pihak yang mendukung berasal dari Komisi pemilihan Umum (KPU) dan Bawaslu, sedangkan yang menolak datang dari sekjen PDIP Pramono Anung dan Ketua DPP PAN Sayuti Asyathri.

Bagaimana bisa nggak golput, wong wakil rakyat (pimpinannya pula) yang ngomong seperti itu.

Sejak kapan pula ada pemilu hukumnya wajib. Tuhan, Allah atau siapapun namaNya tak pernah menciptakan pemilihan umum, tak ada pemilu hukum wajib!

"Golput" itu ya pilihan dalam demokrasi, manusia bahkan bebas memilih untuk tidak memilih. Sebenarnya mereka pencalon diri sebagai wakil rakyat itulah yang berkaca! Jangan menyalahkan mereka yang memilih untuk tak memilih!

I want to be free...

2008-11-29T14:08:00.000+07:00

the stacks of papers and the scribbles on my notes are fullfilling the color of my days. my head keeps spinning and the fluids inside keeps processing data. when i start open a sheet paper, another sheet would be postponed or delayed. another notes would be scratched, and again..and again...

this will also be seen in my dreams. ironsands, radio, garbage, trash...etc etc...one by one appears and again disappears...

...

i wake up with a strange feeling. Wishing that i would be free, wishing that at least, those works would at the end be finished and closed. I want to start something new and fresh at the beginning of the year. Running free and happy...

...

see you around...

Pemberitahuan

2008-11-11T13:16:00.004+07:00

Kawan, saudara, sahabat,
mohon maaf belakangan ini saya tidak menulis di blog kecil ini. Mohon maaf juga untuk segala pekerjaan yang sampai saat ini jadi tertunda.
Saat ini saya sedang berada di tengah-tengah program sosial dengan anak-anak di daerah Piyungan, sehingga banyak pekerjaan saya yang terbengkalai. Program ini bertujuan untuk menggalang dana pendirian perpustakaan kecil bagi anak-anak di daerah tersebut, dan cukup menyita waktu saya dan teman-teman lain yang terlibat.
Dengan ini saya memohonkan maaf dan mohon maklum. Dalam waktu dekat ini, semua pekerjaan yang terbengkalai akan saya selesaikan secepatnya, tanpa mengurangi pengharapan teman-teman.

Suryo Wibowo

the border

2008-10-13T13:03:00.001+07:00

is there a such border? what is border to you?

is it the money which you don't have? is it the equipment you don't have?

is it because of your jealousy?

or is it something you have, but others don't have?

do you recognize that people try to avoid you when they see your camera?

or do you think it's the gap between rich and poor? good and bad? you and others? me and the world?

I fear and question myself about it. what is my border? what has been blocking me from working and being creative? is it really those things above? or is it the thoughts which says "the things above are the border"?

this is where the dead end and no solution question for me... maybe, it's true. The thoughts which says "those and those are the borders" is the real border. And this thoughts, is myself, my mind...

Wajah masa lalu...

2008-10-03T11:41:00.004+07:00

Setelah 8 tahun lamanya tak berjumpa, akhirnya bertemu kembali dengan beberapa orang teman lama. Beberapa wajah berubah, beberapa tak berubah. Silakan untuk temen2 lama yang mau menambahi...

the end of the beginning...

2008-09-28T10:35:00.007+07:00

I wrote much in my previous post. It was a good bye post for Jan, a friend of mine. I don't know if he had read it. I just want to flash back to a trip of us to Sumatra. It just a story from the way back from Jakarta to Yogyakarta.

At 13 o'clock, jakarta time, the economic train was coming right on time. We lifted up our bag and get ourselves in the train, looking for our seats. As we found them, they were occupied by other people, and after a bit chit-chat we could get our seats back, since actually in the economic train, the seats are not reserved like they do in the business or executive class. We got only one row, for 3 persons, and one of us has to sit one row left from us. The seats in front of us was occupied by a woman, with her lot-of-baggage and it was actually empty. We thought that maybe later we could switch, so that the four of us can get together. Until the train left the station, it was empty. And the train left the Senen station slowly.

The next stop was a dark station caused by the roof which was already old and turned in to black color caused by the smokes, the train used to puff. And the time allows them not to let sunshine through afterwards. I was still looking outside the train when people rushed into our train with their belonging, some were sellers, some were passengers, but we can't say who was what. In the middle, there were this couple, man and a woman, with their bags and reached, put, half-way throwing the bags on to the seats. They said those were theirs. When I saw them, I thought that it might be impossible to switch the seats, since they were coming together. The man asked me roughly if I can move my feet because he wanted to stuff another bag underneath my seat. I agreed, although I was a bit angry for his roughness and impolite tone. He stuffed it and when he finished, he stood up on his seat and tried to stuff another bag in the upper shelf. It was full, but he tried. I was looking at him when he stuff his bag, to make sure that he don't smash my bag with my things inside.

He lit his cigarette after he got back to his seat and when he tried to put the matches inside his front jeans pocket, he cursed in the name of the thug and men's best friend. He just realized, that his cellphone was gone. He tried to figure out when. I tried to rewind all the tapes in my brain to search the moment since he came, because he said, he called someone just before they entered the train. I grab into the Christa's camera bag if our phones were still there. Yes it was. I pulled it out and asked them if they still know the numbers, I think it might be still possible to call the phone. The woman, she said nothing, but she open up the bag on her lap to search for something, and the man, watched her. I was sure that he, with his rough hands could be a man who always bit and hit their woman or wives. And she looked like a woman who would fear their husband. Suddenly, she gave me a paper, with 2 numbers. The first one is the lost one. The other was a normal telephone number. I dialed the number and tried to call. It was already inactive. Of course, it was already, maybe 10 minutes away...

We tried to calm him down but train didn't care about something like this. I'm sure there are some more pickpocket thieves around and some more victims. As the train ran out of Jakarta, we were talking about things and my eyes were scanning them. The man, Irvan, comes from somewhere near Kebumen, and works as a cheap labour in Jakarta, and the woman, Paryati, also a labour in Jakarta, comes from Madiun. They are couple, but for me it seems that they are one of the couples who are not actually married since the lack of money to do it. This trip should be their first trip to Madiun, to the place she came from, and this is also his first trip with a train. At some moments, they were talking to each other about the lost phone. And with the trip during the day, he calmed down and seemed to have forgotten about it. I was sometimes a bit surprised when I saw them joking or when I saw her laying her head on his shoulder and he stroked her hair. He looked just rough and impolite. But he showed me his care toward the woman. I kept looking at them while they were sleeping and seemed to trust the persons in front of them, that they wouldn't steal anything nor harm them.

We reached Yogyakarta, and they had to continue the trip to Madiun. I said goodbye to them and left. I don't know if faith would meet me with them again. We don't know.

The perfect soundtracks for life...

2008-09-22T06:36:00.001+07:00

Kennst Du es: Du magst oder sogar hasst ein Lied, das täglich 4, 5 oder sogar 30 mal – sei es im Radio, Fernsehen, Musikladen oder vom 7-Jahre-alten Strassensänger gespielt wird? Du hast die Nase voll davon! Die Melodie klingt zu poppig, oder der Lyrik ist dir übel, zu kitschig? Und Du hast diese Abneigung oder Hass oder wie man es auch nennen mag deine Familie, Bekanntenkreis, Freundin und Freunde geäußert. Da hast du alle mögliche Gründe, die davor noch nie in deinen Sinn gekommen waren, gesagt und auf sie deinen Hass basiert! “Boah...ej, die Melodie klingt tüntig; der Sänger ist schwul, der Bassist ist ein Alkoholiker, die Lyrik ist doch von einem Weichei geschrieben!”

Und jetzt kommt das Wunder. Es ist ruhig, alle Dinge laufen perfekt in ihren Orbiten; die Luft ist spürbar, aber Du kannst keinen schlechten Gerüchte erkennen, nur reine feine Luft; die Sonne ist irgendwo oben und Du siehst sie nicht. Plötzlich, ertönt eine Melodie von deinem Mund und Du hörst sie auch – man hört ja seine eigene Stimme, solange er nicht taub ist! Du erkennst diese Melodie und diese Lyrik auch! Genau, das Lied, das Du gerade hasst! Dein Hirn versucht, deinen Mund irgendwie zu kontrollieren oder stoppen wenn es noch möglich wäre. Es sucht auch nach alle möglichen Gründe, warum gerade das Lied, das dein Mund singt, und nicht ein anderes bekanntes Lied aus deine Musikbibliothek? Es ordnet alles in ein paar Augenblicken kronologisch auf, wo und wann du die Melodie samt Lyrik aufgenommen hast! Es kann nicht wahr sein! Das Lied hört man immer noch von deinem Mund!

Die unbekannte Frau, die neben dir im Bus sitzt, lächelt dich an, und es kommt dir vor sie lacht dich aus, weil du das Lied singst. Dir ist nicht in den Sinn gekommen, dass sie einfach sehr Nett ist und möglicherweise auch in dich interessiert, aufgrund deine Gelassenheit und Entspannheit, als sie dir singen hört!
Die Augenblicke der anderen Passagieren kommt dir vor, als wäre sie auf die Bewegung deines Munds gerichtet, und sie versuchen zu erraten oder zu kapieren, was du dir da gerade mürmelst!

Mann! Und dein Mund, den kann dein Hirn, das selbst einen IQ von über 140 hat, nicht mal stoppen. Er singt weiter, und das Stimmband in deinem Hals ist nicht mal stumm, es singt mit. Die Stimme, die daraus kommt, ist leise, aber andere können es hören.

Jede Momente in unserem Leben hat die eigene Soundtracks. Sie passen einander wie unsere Hände wenn sie gerade klatschen! Wir begegnen täglich ein Lied nach dem anderen, und nehmen es uns sogar oft nicht wirklich wahr. Wir mögen sie nicht, wir mögen sie doch, wir hassen sie, wir hassen sie doch nicht. Alle Informationen, rast durch den Informationenbahnhof in unserem Hirn. Müll, Schimpfwörter auf gleis 1, 3, 4 und 8; Werbungtexte auf Gleis 2; News aus Radio oder aus Zeitung und Magazin auf Gleis 5 und 6; Musik auf Gleis 7! Bitte treten Sie zurück! Vorsicht bei den Türen, es öffnet sich automatisch! Achtung, achtung, Gleiswechsel: Musik auf Gleis 1! Musik auf Gleis 1 und Werbungtexte auf Gleis 3! Siehst du, Musik wird da auch als Müll klassifiziert!

Die Musik ist auch unser treue Freund durch die Zeit, die wir noch auf Erde mit unserem Bewusstsein verbringen. Denn was ist denn Musik, wenn wir nicht mal bewusst sind, dass sie da ist! Wir nehmen sie uns vielleicht nicht wahr, aber da waren wir bewusst, das sie da ist! Und das Hirn nimmt es auf, speichert es in einem Ort, leicht zu greifen, und zusammen mit allen anderen Liedern! Du spielst das Lied weiter und weiter bis du davon satt wirst. Am Ende, legst du es beiseite und spielst ein anderes Lied, das auch gleiches Schicksal haben soll!

Und somit: die Musik in unserer eigenen Bibliothek wiederspiegelt unser Leben. Sie erzählt auch in Stücken von uns! Durch ihre Hilfe können wir uns einige Sachen wieder ins Gegenwart holen! Am Ende sind wir das Lied. Ja, jedes Leben ist ein Ensemble von zusammengespielte Sachen, Erfahrungen, Erinnerungen und noch vieles. Da kann man sehen, wie harmonisch ein Lied ist, wenn man es hört. Das Intro mag manchmal sehr harmonisch klingen, aber genau da, passt mal auf, du solltest bis zum Ende hören! Die Melodie klingt verlockend, aber wow, wer weißt noch wie die Lyrik geschrieben wird!

Täglich begegnen wir auch Leute, Personen, Individuen, Menschen. Sie sind Musik, jeder ist anders als der andere. Eine gut-aussehende Person, die keine gute Persönlichkeit oder nichts im Kopf hat, ist einfach wie ein Lied, mit verlockend klingenden Rythmen aber keine Lyrik. Umgekehrt ist es auch genau so. Aber, wer weißt, manchmal hast du die Lyrik und die andere die Melodie. Täglich ergänzt du auch mit der Musik deines Lebens einen Freund, der vielleicht mal eine gute Zeile in seinem Lied braucht.
Das Lied, dass du nicht magst, vielleicht weil es berühmt ist, wirst von dir selbst auch oft gesungen. Und die Person, die am meistens nicht brauchst, ist vielleicht die, die du als Erstes anrufen musst, wenn wann ist. Vielleicht steckt ja noch was dahinter! Diese Person wurde eigentlich von deinem Hirn als Müll geschätzt, aber wir leben ja mit einem Hirn, das zu 80 prozent vom Müll besteht!
Du bist immer noch auf der Suche nach einem perfekten Lied, das über jahrzehnte-langen Zeit überstehen können! Und echte Freundschaft ist genau das Lied, das lange lebt! Das Lied passt zu einer guten Zeit und auch zu einer schlechten Zeit.

Und jeder will gute Musik geniessen wenn einer gerade zu Hause ist...

ACH, GENUG DAVON! DIESER TEXT IST HÄSSLICH, UND HAT JA AUCH KEINE GUTE MELODIE. DIE MELODIE SOLLTE EIGENTLICH MOTIVIEREND, ABER DU KENNST MICH UND DIE MUSIK, DIE ICH HABE! WAS BIN ICH EIGENTLICH? GUTE MELODIE BIN ICH NICHT. HABE ICH DA GUTE LYRIK?

between panjat pinang and politics...

2008-09-07T23:02:00.003+07:00

August 17th, identically with the national independent day in Indonesia. Identically also with the activities to celebrate it. race in eating cracker or sack jumping or many other plays. And one of the most famous is: panjat pinang or group climbing a rind-less palm tree covered with vaseline/fat.

Next year, we will have another "panjat pinang" but with a different proportion. Somehow, the panjat pinang in a independent day celebration is the utopia of the bigger "panjat pinang": the election!

GAME RULES

Every game has rules!

- Limitation of the team members (maximum member in panjat pinang or minimum voter in election)

- The winner is the first or the one who gets the more prizes, and get the main prize (be the next president)

- No equipment or no money politics!

- The time is not very long...

TEAMWORKS

This is how it's all about. Climbing as a single person means you are pursuing a dream far above. It's almost impossible to climb alone (like I said, "almost"). You need the other people to support if you want to be able to collect the prizes since the tree is quite slimy and of course slippery. A single candidate would looks like a fool who can't climb even for a meter from the ground.

COMPOSITION or TACTIC

The team should talk about how they would stand, who would be stand on the ground (the foundation), who would stand on his shoulder and who would stand above the other, and the most important, who would climb as the last who would be the prize holder. Having no tactic would set fire to the team itself, since everyone doesn't want to stand as the foundation (like the citizen/voters who are the foundation of the party building: they have to carry the most and the heaviest burden!)

THE HIGHEST CLIMBER

This person is the real winner of everything, since he doesn't have to feel the weight of the others on his shoulder; he can see from the top, where no body else can; he would be the main attraction for the media when he was on top; his main target is being on top and able to take everything and doesn't really care about his own weight (multiplied with the gravity of earth, then you would now how much he really weight for one on the ground). The candidate for presidency is this guy: if the team fails, then he would also see nothing from the top but if they succeed, then he would be the one who enjoying the moment of winning. This person just need the others until he reach the top! The others may leave him and support him only with prayers if he already there, since the others would only protest him, if he choose the wrong prize (and he knows, that the others want him to thank back to the team for carrying him above! .... But this person also has the highest risk for falling down, a deadly one!

THE MIDDLE CLIMBERS

The middle climbers are the stairway to heaven! They are also the "dreamers". Some of them might dream to be the highest climber, but they know, either they were to big, or they scared for height! But they really dream about the prizes up there. Sure, they also don't really care if their own weight is carried by the persons beneath them, since there is also enough pressure from above! The second highest climber, by the way, must hate it when he knows he is only centimeters away from the top!

THE FOUNDATION or THE LOWEST STAND

They are the most forgotten. They are not even counted as "climbers" since they don't climb! Imagine how heavy it is to let some other person's weight on their shoulder! And if the lowest stand not strong enough, the team should forget the dream of bringing the prizes home! If he can not defend his own stands, then he would feels the burden of the others slipping down. They are the main attraction in front of the media for their sufferings!

If the top person could reach the top and doesn't need them anymore, then, they would ask the top person, together with the middle climbers, to pick up wisely (which we are not really sure that the mentioned person would do it wisely. The top would do it sometimes also more emotionally)

The ideal is they would share the prizes among the team members...and far more better, for the whole country. But in politic is different than in the panjat pinang. In politics, most of the time they don't want to share it, and most of the time they would do it only for their own interest or the group's interest!

To win and grab everyhing or nothing at all? ... You choose!

To be the top climber or the foundation? ... You choose!

To share the prize with the others? ... You choose!

Living from the limestone

2008-09-06T10:07:00.000+07:00

The sun was hiding under a ball of white grey cloud which hung above my head. Sometimes it comes out and spray it's yellow warm afternoon lights upon the hill. The sounds of people chattering carried by the wind. Not really loud, but loud enough for my ears to hear it. The hill it self, looked so rough and the dark brown color of dried grass made the view even more rougher than before.

I looked down at my feet, and it was covered with white dust, and I don't care. A miner called me and asked several questions about where I come from and what I was doing there. I'm from Yogyakarta, I'm wandering around looking for some fresh air and ideas.

Can you help me? she asked me. "We have nothing and the area is just poor. This is one thing beside farming we can do to provide food to our table. Make pictures of us or proposal for help."

"What do you need?"

"Water"

I questioned my self, can I help them? I don't know yet what they really need beside water, but the first impressions of them made me thinking to go for the thing far more.

I didn't have time that day, and I decide to leave first, but I know, I would come back again.

the line between Zenith and Nadir was ignored

2008-08-08T08:09:00.004+07:00

A friend asked me: "which one is more important to you if you take a picture from a sacred ceremony: you respect other people's believe and sacrifice the best angle; or you would ignore all of the sacred rule of the ceremony to get your best angle?"

like being hit by a thunder, the question maybe weighs the same like: "are you going to help people first or take picture of them?" Maybe the same question, which has led Kevin Carter to end up his life.

Whoa...that was the same question in my head when I saw the photographers were ignoring the Labuhan ceremony in Merapi as long as they got their angles...True, it sucks! I don't really know if the javanese people, who were coming and following the whole rituals, felt annoyed or not... They come with all their believing, some were walking bare foot through the ashes of the volcano, young and old, in traditional clothes or under 2-3 jackets, some has been fasting for days...

It was sacred for them, it was a prove for their loyalty to their king, it was a pray for prosperity, it was a tried connection between this world and the other side. The Zenith and Nadir, connected by a center, the Sultan himself. The offering rituals has the history, has the mythology... what I saw, many photographers were ignoring it...they were even climbing up on the "altar".

Is it a proof for the lack of consciousness of culture? or is it a sign for disappearing values from a culture? or is it just their ignorance?

I am too dumb to think about it...maybe you have an idea, and please share it with all of us...

Terserah.....

2008-07-26T13:13:00.001+07:00

-------- A dan B di dalam kamar kos nan sesak --------

A: Makan yuk?

B: Yuk, makan apa?

A: Terserah...

B: Mhhhmmm...

A: Gimana? Makan apa ke mana ya?

B: Terserah...

A: Lho? Gimana kalau kamu yang nentuin?

B: Ya...aku sih terserah kamu? Kamu ada ide nggak?

A: Aku sih manut aja.

B: Ayo dong, makan di mana?

A: Apa ya?...

B: Di sana aja?

A: Di mana?

B: Di tempat kita biasa makan...

A: Ayo, emang mau makan apa?

B: Terserah. Lha kamu mau makan di sana nggak?

A: Nggak gitu sih... Aku tapi manut aja kok

B: Ya kalau kamu nggak gitu pengen makan di sana, kamu pengen makan di mana?

A: Aku sih terserah kamu aja...

B: Jangan gitu dong, kamu nentuin kita makan di mana!

A: Di mana ya.... (garuk-garuk kepala)

B: ...

A: Aaaahhh, aku tahu!

B: Di mana?

A: Di.... (belum melanjutkan kalimat sampai selesai)

B: Yaaaa??? (nggak sabar memancing kalimat sampai selesai)

A: Ah, tapi hari ini di sana tutup...

B: Kalau di deket pompa bensin?

A: Mahal, tanggal tua nih...

B: Ya...aku sih manut kamu aja...

A: Lho, gimana sih?

B: Kan kamu yang nyetir motor!

A: Iya sih, tapi kenapa nggak kamu yang nentuin mau makan di mana?

B: Ya udah gini aja, sekarang kita jalan, ntar kalau ada tempat makan enak kita berhenti...

---- A dan B keluar, naik motor, motor distarter, belum jalan, masih di depan pagar ----

A: Jadi kita ke mana?

B: Ah, bete, dari tadi bingung mau makan ke mana, kamu nentuin dong?

A: Ya tapi aku juga bingung mau makan apa di mana...

B: Aku sih nurut aja aku bilang...

A: Emang kamu pengen makan apa?

B: Lha kamu pengen makan apa?

A: Manut kamu aja, aku kan bisa makan apa aja...

B: Ya udah deh...gak jadi makan aja...

A: Eh eh, jangan dong, kita makan sate aja...

B: Kamu lagi batuk...

A: Terus?

B: ya itu kan bumbu kacang, kalau makan kacang kamu batuk!

A: Ya terus makan di mana?

B: TERSERAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!

A: ...

------- A dan B di tempat makan ---------

A: Kok tiba-tiba pengen makan di sini?

B: Kan kamu yang nentuin?

A: Aku kira kamu tadi yang pengen makan sayur?

B: Ya tapi kan bukan di sini...

A: Lho, lalu di mana?

B: Ya terserah, yang penting bukan di sini...

A: Mana aku tahu kalau kamu nggak pengen makan di sini... Ya udah, pindah aja?

B: Nggak usah, udah pesen kan?

A: Belum sih, tapi orangnya udah datang tuh

B: Ya udah, udah didatangi juga, nggak usah pindah, nggak enak.

A: Ntar kamu nggak suka?

B: Ya mau gimana lagi. udah mau pesen apa?

A: Terserah kamu aja deh. Kamu mau makan apa?

B: Ya kamu pengen makan apa? aku ngikut kamu aja...

A: Apa ya.... (melihat menu, bingung...)

------- A dan B nulis pesenan, pelayan pergi membawa pesenan, balik lagi dengan kertas pesanan -----

Pelayan: Maaf, yang ini, ini dan itu nggak ada... bisa diganti dengan pesanan lain?

A: Lha kami cuma pesen 3 makanan itu?

Pelayan: Iya, tapi udah abis, jadi mungkin mau ganti pesanan?

B: Ah udah deh, kita pindah tempat aja...

A: Ya ayo. Mau kemana?

B: Terserah....

----- A garuk-garuk kepala -----

delay after delay after...

2008-07-20T19:03:00.000+07:00

Yogya, 20. Juli 2008

Ever been standing in an airport and looking at your watch, then your flight ticket, back to your watch or cellphone, then looking around trying to find another watch or clocks standing on a wall, then looking back again to the display in the hall and you found out that there is no new information about your flight. That it seems to be on time. 30 minutes later, you will find also no information, and not even words that says: BOARDING. The thing is, that moment is the minute before your flight is should be running on the runway and gathering enough speed to fight the wind and to be able to lift up.

Sure, that would anger everyone. And it makes you think: “Am I in the wrong gate, oh no, worst in the wrong terminal?” Well, or maybe even worst, you think that you are in the wrong day. But, OK, the last one is maybe only my thoughts, cause I do always forget days and dates. Later on, you will asked yourself, if I miss this plane, would the other plane on the other airport waiting for me or for the others passenger in this delayed flight? Would it be a chain of domino stones falling together?

We are all pissed of about the delay, or cancel. Flight is a big thing, but look also in our daily menu. There will always be delays. Say it, we are too late to wake up. And that the coffee for the breakfast in the cantine, or the lunch in the nearby restaurants or the dinner in a romantic, and super expensive restaurant, under the light of some candles. If they ever come late, we would start grunting, the stomach would start protesting and complaining and even the, sorry, anus would produce the gas of being impatient.

We always want that everything comes or appears on time. Yes, we do. I do!

Enough with those smalltalks, I think I’ve to go back to my works, selecting pictures for two friends. I’ve promised to finish the picture and have delayed it due to a lot of arguments…well, you know, a looser has always reasons… And I really don’t want to be one like that.

ciao...

a speech for your own funeral

2008-07-08T17:30:00.000+07:00

Somehow, I have the feeling that almost all photographer are narcist. They do like to make their own self portrait.

Sure, it's not difficult to take photographs from other people, since we see them in front of our eyes and since we have our framing about them. But the next question is about self picture: Can you really describe yourself in your self portrait? Or would you just stand in front of a mirror holding a camera, or taking photographs of your own shadow, or standing somewhere making a weird pose of your self while the camera is standing still on a tripod?

Those were quite familiar for all of us, even if we are not photographers and we don't have anything to do with photography.

I think, framing ourself in a selfportrait should be more like preparing a speech for our own funeral. People can read the statistic and demographic information about us from a sheet we have somewhere in our room or in one of the offices in the city administration (if we can get access to it...) But they can't see the truth behind the person, who we are. Who am I? I know, Spiderman has asked that question at the end of the movie. Only we don't really know, to whom he asked that question. To us, the audiences or to himself? Peter is somehow still confused for being a hero with a half super animalistic capability and a half human. He saved some people, captured some criminals. But it's the audience who decide, whether he was a good man, or a bad man.

In some moslem funerals I've attended in Indonesia, the visitors would be asked if the dead was a good guy or not. The life is a text, and the author is dead. Only what he/she did would be left in this world, and the other human, they would interpretate the text of someone's life. And we would really excited about what the others have to say about us, about our life. Sometimes, it's just beyond our own imagination. And the next thing is: If you were dead, would you care about what others have to say about you? Some would even not care about what others might think and say about them while they were still living.

I have never prepared a speech for my own funeral, since I'm not dead yet. And if I were dead, than it would be too late to prepare it. We can only let others prepare it, and it would not be the whole description, since they would never know what we really have done in our live. And I have not even a word for my funeral's speech about my self. Have I led a good man's life? Or am I someone useless for the world, for the people around me?

I left a drawing I've made before for a self portrait. I'm sick of the usual selfportrait in front of the mirror or my own shadow. I want to present a clearer portrait with a bit information about my self. At the end, I couldn't write much about my self. Only that I have a scar, that I love photography, that I'm a chain smoker, my height... And I was gone to pick up my sister, and left that drawing in the whiteboard.

2 Days later, I found a full whiteboard. My drawing was still there, some friends knew that it was me, who drew it, but they have "ruined" it, or if we see from other perspective: they have "added" so many information. OK, none of it was quite serious. Some of them are of course true. Someone drew a light mustache, and another friend wrote down:"a cool and trendy mustache for a gay". I don't want to insult any homosexuals, but you know, sometimes, people do make jokes about them. And I'm not a gay also...

And still many others writing on the whiteboard. Some serious and some not...

It was the mirror. I saw part of my self through the writing of some friends. Of course they were also joking about me. But their thoughts were the other mirror, from which I could see my self and make a self portrait.

Have you written a speech for your own funeral?

"Birthday is the echo of time"

2008-06-30T00:48:00.002+07:00

...Oh no, those are not my own words... I got it from the net. It was Evelyn Waugh's.

All I can say is just happy birthday and I wish you all the best. I know it's 2 days later than it should be. Knowing you is one of the wonderful things, which has happened in my life. And to be with you in your day is the greatest I can ever give. And I really hope that you would be able to recollecting the memories, keeping the beautiful moments and learning from your mistakes.

I will stand behind you. And HAPPY 22nd BIRTHDAY, CHRISTA!!!

the last 2 photos by Jan Rottler

Requiem In Pace...

2008-06-23T15:46:00.005+07:00

It's the second funeral this year, from which I took pictures. Both are beloved teachers for their students, and fathers for their children, husband for their wives and friends for those who know them.

This time is a friend's father. It's been a sad funeral, not like what Akira Kurosawa has dreamed about in his movie compilation "Akira Kurosawa's Dreams" about the village with the water-mills. He dreamed about a happy and cheerful funeral, since he also talk about life and death. I just couldn't imagine a cheerful funeral. But, I think, he was right. It should be happy, thanking to the dead one for what he has done, and it should be cheerful, to pay respect for the life he/she had lived.

Difficult...that's it. No funeral means happiness if we really lost the one we love. Taking pictures from grieving people was difficult for me too. Not easy. This time I was also about to break in tears, when I saw my friends cried, who used to be strong.

But, still, there should be hope for them, and the life must go on. And at the end, I really want to get rid of the thinking about losing someone I love.

Hope the best for Yoseph "Cecep" Anggi and Stanilaus "Yori" Yoga and the family.

masa lalu selalu baru?

2008-06-18T19:33:00.001+07:00

Entah kenapa, dari banyak teman yang kutemui di jalan mencibir atau mengatakan "oooo" dengan intonasi nada seolah paham ketika aku mengatakan kalau aku pergi ke FKY. Entah kenapa, aku nggak pernah tahu.

Tetapi aku cukup heran dengan konsep "masa lalu selalu baru" yang diusung oleh acara satu bulan FESTIVAL KESENIAN YOGYAKARTA ini. Mungkin memang karena aku bukan seniman atau orang pintar sejenisnya...

"Ihre Existenz ist nur an die Gegenwart gebunden, Vergangenheit existiert nicht mehr, das Zukünftige gibt es noch nicht. Das Jetzt ist unteilbar. Das bild der Welt ist unumwandelbar und letzlich uneinsehbar, es ist eine Welt der Ideen."

(Plato)

- Keberadaan waktu terikat pada masa kini, masa lalu sudah tak ada lagi, masa depan masih belum ada. Sekarang tak bisa dibagi-bagi. Gambaran dari semesta tak bisa diputarbalikkan dan pada akhirnya tak bisa dipahami lagi, ini adalah dunia penuh ide. -

(Plato)

Bagiku, masa lalu (the past) sudah berlalu, tetapi sejarah selalu baru, dan akan selalu baru. Jika masa lalu kita jadikan baru, mungkin, malah jadi mengunduh dan mengeruk kembali rasa sakit yang pernah ada dan kita tak pernah jauh dari hidup di bawah bayangan dari kesuksesan masa lampau, kejayaan masa lalu.

Kita mengenang, tapi menjadi pertanyaan, apa yang kita buat baru? Jangan-jangan kenangan memang sebatas kenangan, tak ada lagi yang baru, hanya diulang-ulang: kesalahan yang sama, hal-hal indah yang sama (yang lama-lama tak kan menjadi indah lagi karena bosan) dan semuanya berada di daerah penumbra yang tak jelas antara terang atau gelap. Atau kita senang berlindung dan bersuka cita di daerah umbra yang teduh, gelap dingin dan tak tampak cahaya?

Mungkin suatu hari dari dunia Indonesia kita akan bangkit seorang Kant baru yang membawa pencerahan...

ah, siapa lah aku ini...aku menulis tulisan singkat ini pun dari arena FKY, memanfaatkan fasilitas hotspot sembari menunggu jam jemput...kok ya nulis seperti ini tentang FKY...

After 20 years...

2008-06-17T09:52:00.004+07:00

I am a Javanese if we talk about bloodline, but culturally, I am not a javanese. I prefer to use jeans and T-shirt than Batik Sarong and Surjan or Beskap. Those were javanese clothes. The main reason for my rejection to those clothes is functionality. I feel not free running in those clothes.

And that is exactly what I've done last weekend. While photographing the wedding of a princess (well, she is the daughter of a king), I had to wear Sarong and Beskap... This is the first time after 20 years. It was on 21st April, 1988 when I wore Beskap for the last time. I was five, and was very eager to participate in the celebration of Kartini Day (still I don't know why I had to wear such clothes, while Kartini Day should celebrate the woman emancipation rather than traditional clothes...)

Anyway, I don't change much, do I?

break for a while

2008-06-07T08:29:00.001+07:00

The time with exams and papers has passed. I asked my self to give my mind and soul a bit of relaxation. And there is it… I was planning for a trip. The questions about Sandeq Race is still hanging around in my head. But still no news from Makassar and from Jakarta. I think, this should be cleared as soon as possible. But before it, I have to go somewhere to relax my self.

I remember about a friend of mine mentioning about this word: Fernweh or itchy feet. And another friend said that this is a new disease in the post modern era. I get that sickness too… I felt so monotonic with the life now and wants to get out and see the far far away, like Shrek has done. I don’t know for sure if there would be any surprise in the far-far away, but I hope for it.

So be it… Sitting in a room of 3x3m with free bonuses of cockroaches in the toilet and the humming ventilator in the wall. The rate was 75thousand rupiahs for a night in this double bed room with a 14inches television and a wooden table.

And somehow, I think about home… far away from where I am…

Tulang Bawang, 31 May 2008

....ruguduk....ruguduk...rugudukk...

2008-05-27T09:20:00.001+07:00

Malam yang menyedihkan, akhir dari sesuatu yang sudah berlangsung hari-hari, minggu, bulan sebelumnya.

Buka pintu, lepas baju, hempaskan diriku

di atas kasur! Belum sampai nyenyak...haus sekali rasanya. Entah kenapa saat akan kugapai gelas itu, bergetar dan bergoyang semuanya...Masih ku ingat ibuku menelungkup di depan televisi, menganggap hal itu adalah aman. Masih ingat tak terasa lagi berat badan ibuku di dekapanku.

Saat itu aku sudah yakin, pasti besar...

kini sudah dua tahun berlalu. Harapan saja yang masih bisa disampaikan...dan doa bagi mereka yang telah berlalu hari itu...

***

"tiang listrik tidak bergerak

mobil dan sepeda dapat bergerak

ada benda sulit bergerak

ada benda mudah bergerak

Mengapa mobil mudah bergerak

Apa yang menggerakkan mobil

Roda mudah bergerak

roda berbentuk bundar

karena berbentuk bundar

maka roda mudah bergerak"

Tulisan anak SD di papan tulis ruangan kelas yang kosong dan berdebu itu seakan tak lagi berguna setelah semua hancur. Roda, apakah ia masih bisa bergerak? Tiang listrik apakah benar tak bergerak saat digoyang gempa? ....

Aah.... sudah 2 tahun...

Sandeq Race 2008

2008-05-24T09:08:00.001+07:00

My phone rings a few days ago...

“hey, do you want to go to Mandar?” the voice at the other end of the connection asked me...

“sure!”, I said.

“OK. The people there decided to call us again, but as you know, some of us wouldn’t be able to come, and I’ll be busy in Jakarta. Can you?”

Hearing the question, my mind spins fast. I know the things there, hard and it’s a big thing! Politely I asked him for few days to clear my mind and to make my decision, though I really want to go there ...

The longest, fastest and hardest traditional boat race will be held once again. I’m gonna be on the team again. It’s just an amazing event, a big and wonderful event! I’d love to go there again.

Sandeq is a sailing boat, used by Mandarese fishermen to fish before the motor boats is dominating the market. For the mandarese fishermen, this sandeq vessel is the peak of their knowledge in sailing. While most people knows only pinisi boat, which is huge and massive, sandeq is much more smaller. With the height of the mast until 16meters, length until 14 meters, width (without outriggers) 90cm, and width with outriggers 12-14m, sandeq is a fast sailing boat, which can run between 20-30 knots in a good wind. The crews are the living balance for the boat, and they have to pull the mast while standing on the outriggers to keep it balance. Most of them don’t use life jacket.

The race would start at August 17th in Mamuju, and it would end in Makassar through 7 legs in 11 days. It’s going to be exhausting for all of us. But it’s all for the culture of sailing in Indonesia, like an old folksong said “nenek moyangku orang pelaut” (my ancestors were sailors)...

Have you imagined 50 sails going up at the same time under the blue sky of Sulawesi? Trust me, they are fantastic!

I’ll be there again. I’m glad to be able to participate in such a good thing. And I hope I could do more photos this year.

PS: I can not swim...

Exam...

2008-05-16T08:23:00.000+07:00

exam...exam...exam...

biarpun ada yang berkata "jangan sampai kuliah/kerja mengganggu motret"

ada baiknya aku berpikir sebaliknya...

ujian dulu ya...

see you around...

Quote of the Day

2008-05-09T07:43:00.003+07:00

"If a photographer cares about the people before the lens and is compassionate, much is given. It is the photographer, not the camera, that is the instrument."

- Eve Arnold -

"home sweet home"

love

bertamu ke pantai selatan di hari minggu

2008-04-29T08:31:00.001+07:00

Jam setengah lima pagi, wecker telepon genggam Christa berbunyi nyaring. Berselang detik, wecker Rony juga menyerukan suara untuk bangun. Setelah bersiap ala kadarnya, kami pun berangkat, diiringi pertanyaan mau ke mana...sudah cukup terlambat untuk pergi ke Ngrenehan karena cukup jauh bagiku...Di dalam perjalanan, kami memutuskan pergi ke Baron...

Teluk pantai Baron telah dikenal di kalangan masyarakat sebagai tempat wisata, baik wisata kuliner, maupun tempat mandi-mandi air laut yang relatif lebih aman daripada pantai lain di selatan Yogyakarta. Posisinya sebagai TPI (Tempat Pelelangan Ikan) pun menunjang posisinya sebagai daerah wisata kuliner.

Sesampai di sana, dengan euphoria memotret, nafsu itu akhirnya dilampiaskan...walaupun kembali diurungkan setelah beberapa jepretan, setelah mendengar kabar ada kecelakaan. Kamera Oscar dan lensa 50mm ku jatuh! Kameranya masih bisa berfungsi, tetapi lensanya terbelah dua....depan dan belakang...maklum, plastik!

Yah...kecewa, tapi mau apa lagi...

Di Baron, kami lebih banyak ngobrol dan sharing dengan Rony. Terimakasih untuk sharingnya yang menurutku banyak manfaatnya bagi orang awam sepertiku.

Perjalanan itupun kami lanjutkan untuk memuaskan keingintahuan tentang pantai Ngrenehan, Ngobaran dan Nguyahan. Jalan ke sana sedikit lebih buruk daripada jalan ke Baron yang teraspal halus. Dan tujuan utama adalah Ngrenehan, TPI kecil mirip Baron, yang sedikit dikunjungi oleh pelancong. Makan ikan adalah tujuan utama...

Perut semakin berbunyi nyaring saat bau ikan digoreng menusuk hidung kami sesampai di sana. Omong punya omong, kami menentukan sebuah warung... Nunggu punya nunggu, akhirnya aku memutuskan memotret sekitar secara sekilas... Lapar punya lapar, akhirnya Christa pun memanggil makan.

Ikan goreng terhidang, ikan bakar pun tersaji. Gurih, kering dan panas! Sayang sambel terasinya tidak pedas. Tetapi, hasrat makan ikan pun terpenuhi...

Ngobaran sebagai tujuan kedua ternyata cukup mengecewakan, 5 menit saja kami berdiri di sana, memandang pura kejawen dan karang di bawah. Oscar sudah mencari tempat untuk berbaring. dan kami akhirnya memilih berjalan ke Nguyahan, pantai pasir putih di sebelah bukit. Tak ada warung, tak ada industri wisata di situ. Yang ada dari pantai itu adalah sebuah pendopo kecil di depan gubuk kecil milik mbah Mul.

Pantai itu memang terkenal sebagai daerah wisata spiritual. Orang datang ke situ lebih banyak untuk bersemedi atau untuk melakukan ritual lain. Yang datang untuk berpacaran hanya sedikit.

Masih ada satu pertanyaan yang mengganjal di dalam pikiranku...yang sama dengan pertanyaan di benak Rony... menarik unik dan sekaligus sepertinya penuh misteri dan kejanggalan... tentang seorang paranormal yang tinggal di situ, dan merahasiakan identitas aslinya dari warga sekitar...

ah...lain kali saja kuceritakan...

yang jelas kami bersantai di sana...hehehehe.....

oscar, setelah 4 jam...

rony zakaria

day dreaming...

hehehe

Cerita tentang Keluarga Pak Beruang Madu Kurus

2008-04-12T14:32:00.002+07:00

Ini cerita tentang keluarga pak Beruang Madu Kurus. Alkisah, pak Beruang Madu Kurus adalah seorang lelaki lajang yang dikaruniai tiga orang anak. Lho, katanya lajang? Suka-suka aku dong, kan aku yang cerita. Bukan tiga anak kandung sekalipun terdapat banyak sekali kemiripan fisik wajah dan karakter, mereka anak asuh. Pak Beruang Madu Kurus menyayangi ketiga-tiganya dengan sangat.

Kisah selengkapnya, baca aja di link ini

Kenapa sih "making love" itu enak banget?

2008-04-03T17:37:00.000+07:00

Entah siapa yang membuat cerita ini, tapi yang jelas, pasti dibuat untuk mengajak kita tertawa... tapi kayaknya juga khusus untuk orang Indonesia saja...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anak (A) : Pak, Kenapa sih making love itu enak banget?
Bapak (B) : Wah, itu kayak sensasi waktu kamu ngupil pake jari kamu,nak.

A : Trus, kenapa cewek lebih menikmatinya, pak?
B : Karena waktu kamu ngupil, yang kerasa paling enak khan hidung kamu dan bukan jari , pada jari kamu.

A : Terus, kenapa cewek benci banget amit-amit jabang bayi kalo mereka diperkosa?
B : Ya, seperti kalo kamu dijalan ketemu orang asing, trus orang asing itu pengen ngupilin hidung kamu pake jarinya dia.... ngeselin khan?

-A : Kenapa cewek nggak bisa/nggak mau gituan waktu mereka lagi datang bulan?
-B : Kalo hidung kamu berdarah, kamu masih pengen terus ngupil?

-A : Katanya, semakin banyak sperma laki-laki yang keluar waktu orgasme,semakin besa kenikmatannya. Bener nggak sih Pak?
-B : Semakin besar upil yang kamu dapet waktu ngorek, semakin puas nggak kamu?

-A : Kenapa cowok nggak suka pake kondom waktu mereka making love?
-B : Kamu suka nggak ngupil pake sarung tangan?

-A : Wahhh Bapak pinter banget deh .. hehehe.

--- Kesimpulan : Buat yg blom married, kalo lagi pengen ML but ga ada penyaluran mending ngupil aja...!!!

Pikiran tentang Arsip

2008-04-03T09:19:00.000+07:00

Malam sudah larut, cangkir minuman di atas meja sudah menjadi dingin di meja sudut cafe itu. Pada awalnya adalah Josef Koudelka yang bercerita tentang sebuah pameran. Ya, pameran yang membuatnya berpikir dan terkagum. Ya, pameran scrapbook dari Henri Cartier Bresson, sang master legendaris itu. Selain Koudelka, juga tampak hadir David Harvey dan Bill Allard dalam diskusi itu. Diskusi yang berjalan hangat itu perlahan mengarah pada sebuah diskusi yang lebih hangat tentang pengarsipan foto. Koudelka mulai bertanya-tanya di usianya yang sudah mencapai kepala 7, bagaimana jika ia nanti telah meninggal dunia, apa yang akan terjadi dengan karya-karyanya? Tentunya foto-foto Bresson yang dipamerkan tersebut berusia jauh lebih tua daripada foto-fotonya yang sudah mendunia. Scrapbook itu berisi karya-karya Bresson sebelum dia terjun ke dunia foto jurnalistik, tentunya juga foto-foto yang dibuatnya sewaktu masih muda.

Hmmm.... Jika diingat Bresson meninggal tahun 2004 di usianya yang ke 85 dan ia memulai foto jurnalistik di usianya yang berkepala dua, tentunya scrapbook itu jauh lebih tua daripada foto-fotonya yang lain yang terpublikasi lewat Magnum. Bagaimana mungkin karya-karya berusia 60an tahun dari seorang fotografer yang mempunyai ribuan, puluhan ribu, ratusan ribu karya bisa terdokumentasi dengan apik dan layak pameran?

Ketika kutanyakan pada seorang kawan bagaimana ia mendokumentasikan fotonya, jawabannya adalah CD dan DVD. Ia tidak menjelaskan secara lanjut bagaimana pengkategoriannya, bagaimana ia menyusunnya sehingga suatu hari nanti ia mudah mencari foto-foto tersebut. Jawabnya: “wah itu yang aku ngak tahu.” Tak jauh pula jawaban seorang kawan lainnya. Dan di rumahnya kulihat beberapa cone/tabung penyimpan kepingan data dengan CD/DVD yang bertumpuk di dalamnya. Beberapa mempunyai label seperlunya, minim informasi, dan bahkan banyak yang tidak mempunyai label sama sekali. Tampaknya memang banyak dari kita yang menyukai “try and try again” alias memasukkan CD/DVD satu persatu ke optical drive di komputer untuk mencari sebuah foto.

Pusing aku ketika kujumpai hal serupa di rumah. Ketika kulihat kumpulan CD/DVDku yang tak karuan penyimpanannya, dan tak jelas berada di manakah sebuah foto.

Beberapa waktu ini, sudah beberapa software untuk memanage data digital kucoba dan kupelajari. Belum ada yang memuaskan perasaanku. Mulai dari Adobe Lightroom, Adobe Bridge, Apple Aperture, FotoStation Pro, Photo Mechanic, dan yang terbaru saat ini, yang masih ku utak-atik: Extensis Portfolio. Musuh utama management data sudah cukup jelas: kapasitas, baik kapasitas kantong kita maupun kapasitas harddisk kita. Dan tak lupa....kapasitas ketelatenan kita untuk mengarsipkan foto-foto tersebut.

Metode yang kugunakan cukup sederhana dalam memanage foto, baik tanpa software maupun menggunakan software.

Gunakan nama yang jelas untuk Folder (dan jika mungkin ubah nama files). Setiap folder kubuat perhari dengan ditambahi keyword event. Misal: 20080302 Mlasti, 20070817 Mamuju, 20070111 Ultah Ibu 50. Dengan itu aku mencari sebuah foto berdasarkan tanggal atau sebaliknya dan bahkan bisa mengarsipkan perubahan sesuatu dari waktu ke waktu. Hanya saja, jika kita menggunakan kamera digital, sebaiknya tanggal dan jam kamera harus disesuaikan dengan kondisi pemotretan kita. Sehingga jelas dan tidak terdapat kerancuan, baik dalam pikiran kita maupun dalam EXIF file digital kita. Ingat: jika kita harus memberikan foto paling aktual, tetapi tanggal kamera kita disetting 2 tahun lalu, maka foto kita dianggap tidak aktual. Benar bukan?
Manfaatkan IPTC. Gunakan IPTC untuk menyimpan caption, nama fotografer, kata kunci/keywords, dan masih banyak lagi. IPTC bahkan memungkinkan kita mencari sebuah foto lewat Search di Windows ataupun Spotlight di Mac OSX. Menuliskan IPTC dengan lebih banyak informasi dilakukan dengan software digital asset management. Jika tak punya, bisa juga menuliskan IPTC dengan Photoshop. Tetapi sayang, Photoshop hanya bisa menuliskan IPTC satu demi satu, sehingga sering menjadi ribet.
Backup file dalam CD, DVD master yang tidak disentuh-sentuh kecuali dibutuhkan. Perlu diingat bahwa CD dan DVD mempunyai masa kadaluarsa tergantung bagaimana cara kita menyimpan kepingan tersebut. Musuh utama nya adalah jamur dan goresan (bukan pada bagian berkilau CD yang perlu ditakuti, tetapi pada bagian atas, tempat kita menuliskan label CD). Jika memungkinkan dan dirasa penting, secara waktu dan finansial, sebaiknya kita selalu cek ulang kondisi CD/DVD kita dan melakukan proses Backup ulang.
Arsipkan CD/DVD kita dengan benar! Ini adalah bagian paling aneh, di mana kita harus mengarsipkan sebuah arsip tertutup. Artinya, kita harus membuat daftar/katalog isi DVD/CD kita. Saya menggunakan software Disc Catalog Maker (Mac OS). Software Extensis Portfolio yang baru saya coba juga memungkinkan kita untuk mendokumentasikan kepingan disk kita. Jika tidak mempunyai, maka kita bisa membuat file Excell ( atau spreadsheet lainnya).
Konsistensi kerja. Jangan pernah kita merasa capek untuk mengalokasikan waktu kita memberi informasi yang benar kepada data digital kita, karena lebih baik sedikit demi sedikit, daripada harus membuat arsip dari sebuah gunung :D

Cerita tentang Koudelka, Harvey dan Allard di atas disadur dari sebuah cerita Harvey tentang diskusi scrapbook Bresson di sebuah tulisannya.

Semoga ini bisa bermanfaat bagi teman-teman. Jika ada tambahan atau koreksi, berikanlah dengan suka hati.

the Decisive Moment...

2008-03-26T23:18:00.000+07:00

"To me, photography is the simultaneous recognition, in a fraction of a second, of the significance of an event as well as a precise organization of forms which gave the event it's proper expression"

(H.C. Bresson)

Siapa tak kenal Bresson dengan teorinya tentang moment paling menentukan, the decisive moment, tersebut? Ya mungkin hanya mereka yang belum pernah memotret, tidak suka memotret dan tidak tahu serta tidak mau tahu tentang fotografi yang belum pernah mengenal Henri Cartier Bresson.

Dalam sebuah edisi Spiegel sesaat setelah meninggalnya sang maestro, salah seorang sahabatnya menceritakan pribadi Bresson. Menurutnya, lelaki satu itu adalah seorang yang aneh. "Anda mungkin sedang duduk menghadapi lelaki itu di sebuah restoran dengan semangkuk sup tomat. Seketika itu juga, saat pembicaraan sedang hangat, Bresson mungkin akan menghilang entah kemana. Baru 30 menit kemudian ia akan kembali duduk dan melahap sup tomatnya yang sudah menjadi dingin itu."

Bisa dibayangkan? Bresson membaca hal-hal kecil mulai dari bahasa verbal hingga bahasa tubuh, dan ia memprediksikan sebuah moment secara jitu. Hanya hitungan sekejap mata, tidak mencapai satu detik. Tetapi ekspresi bangga anak kecil yang sedang membawa botol champagne itu terekam jelas! Bahkan mereka yang tidak tahu menahu tentang fotografi pun akan berkata, betapa bangga anak itu!

foto oleh Henri-Cartier Bresson

Fotografer professional ataupun amatir pun mencari satu hal itu, decisive moment. Terkadang didapat, terkadang pudar, terkadang hilang sama sekali, terlambat atau terlalu dini. Decisive moment dengan kata lain adalah titik yang memungkinkan fotografer merekam sebuah kejadian dengan pada segala puncaknya, pada saat yang paling menentukan. Bahkan komposisi ataupun lemahnya teknis foto pun bisa lenyap di saat moment yang terekam berada pada puncaknya. Masih ingat sebuah foto yang menang di salah satu kategori World Press Photo, di mana ada seorang lelaki membawa bendera palestina tertembak? Bagaimana bendera itu masih berkibar di tangannya sementara tubuhnya membungkuk hampir jatuh setelah tertembak... Berapa sih kecepatan peluru? berapa lama orang itu akan jatuh atau dalam posisi jatuh? Berapa lama kita butuh menyadarinya? Berapa lama tangan kita bergerak melepas rana? atau sebelumnya, mata dan tangan berkoordinasi melakukan focusing?

Frank Van Ripper dalam sebuah tulisannya "Creating the decisive moment" mengatakan "it takes practices!" Tampaknya memang tak ada jalan lain selain latihan dan latihan saja. Beberapa kalangan fotografer menganggap decisive moment adalah bagian dari keberuntungan seorang fotografer. It just luck. Yang jelas, Julian Sihombing, seorang fotografer harian KOMPAS mengatakan tidak terima jika fotonya yang merekam bagaimana seorang pengemudi sepeda motor menabrak seekor anjing adalah keberuntungan. Beberapa fotografer mengatakan pula kalau decisive moment adalah teori fotografi kuno! Entah dari mana pula pemikirannya, tetapi saya cukup setuju dengan Frank Van Ripper: "Don't call it photography"

"We photographers deals in things that are continually vanishing, and when they have vanished, there is no contrivance on earth that can make them come back again. We can not develop a print from memory..."

(H.C. Bresson)

Berapa banyak foto yang telah kubuat direkam pada saat yang tepat? Berapa banyak foto yang telah dibuat mempunyai impact yang sangat besar bagi publik?

Kiranya pertanyaan-pertanyaan tersebut menjadi koreksi dan bahan pemikiran kita semua tentang fotografi.

Barbara Roberts

2008-03-14T07:58:00.003+07:00

Barbara adalah kisah kebalikan dari penciptaan seperti yang dikisahkan oleh kitab-kitab suci agama semitik dunia. Gambaran sang Pencipta dituangkan pertama kali dalam sosok seorang lelaki, bukan perempuan seperti Hawa. Entah kenapa, sosok pencipta juga selalu diwakili oleh seorang lelaki tua...bukan perempuan tua.

Nah...Barbara ini diciptakan sebagai mahluk tunggal pertama kalinya. Perempuan dan bukan lelaki. Baru 2 tahun berikutnya, muncullah lelaki pertama dan tampaknya menjadi lelaki satu-satunya yang pernah singgah di hati Barbara.

Barbara memang bintang besar yang bersinar dan terkenal di dunia. Ia dikenal di Amerika, dikenal juga di Eropa, Afrika dan Asia. Di Indonesia, ia menjadi simbol kecantikan juga, seperti di negara asalnya di Amerika.

Barbara adalah perempuan cantik yang puluhan tahun lamanya telah menjadi lambang kecantikan dan kesempurnaan. Kulitnya lembut, rambutnya panjang dan tak kalah lembut. Wajahnya cantik, dan selama puluhan tahun berikutnya, tak pernah mengalami penuaan dengan keriput-keriput wajah yang menjadi momok bagi banyak perempuan modern sekarang. Perempuan satu ini juga selalu dikenal sebagai sosok yang trendy. Bajunya selalu cocok dengan trend pada saat itu. Jarang yang mengenal nama tengah dan nama keluarganya, karena ia tak pernah memakainya. Hidupnya ringan, penuh dengan pesta dan bersenang-senang. Belum pernah aku mendengar Barbara menangis, bahkan di saat ia bercerai dengan lelaki satu-satunya dalam hidupnya itu. Ah, Rapunzell modern ini memang cantik. Bahkan membingungkan saya ketika setelah bertahun-tahun lamanya ia bercerai dengan suaminya, lahirlah seorang anak...siapa ayah dari anak itu? Wah, selingkuh dong ya...

Itulah Barbara Millicent Roberts...sosok cantik yang tak pernah tua tanpa silikon dan botox.

Ia kini menjadi status simbol. Anak-anak perempuan kecil yang mengidolakannya seringkali tidak mampu memilikinya, justru ibu-ibu yang sudah mempunyai anak dan sudah mapan lah yang lebih mampu. Beberapa orang bahkan begitu mengidolakannya sehingga bersedia merubah dirinya menjadi seperti Barbara... Bagi ribuan orang, Barbara telah menjadi pemberi lapangan kerja juga.

Begitu juga bagi seorang lelaki di pasar malam Sekaten beberapa waktu lalu. Memanfaatkan saudaranya yang bekerja di perusahaan Barbara, ia mendapatkan beberapa duplikat yang membuatnya mampu bertahan hidup. Asli, tapi palsu. Murah, dan akhirnya, Barbara menjadi lebih terjangkau bagi banyak anak kecil yang mengidolakannya. Untuk orang Indonesia, seringkali Barbara juga terlalu berani dalam berpakaian, dan banyak orang menentang itu, tapi sedikit orang yang melarang anaknya mengidolakan dan menyukai Barbara.

Memang Barbara, perempuan yang tak pernah tua, selalu cantik, dan menjadi idola melintasi ruang dan waktu, melintasi budaya dan generasi.

the perfect ice breaker...

2008-03-10T22:20:00.004+07:00

sometimes, I really do want to quit smoking. stop with all of the nicotine and toxic...I know the disadvantages for being a smoker. it's not healthy for your lung, its not healthy for your etc etc etc... sometimes I feel uncomfortable too if I smoke among those passive smokers...

but I do also realize, that cigarettes are the perfect ice breaker in the conversation. I like photographing people from the lower economy-class. Javanese, especially, they smoke. Men, of course. Some how, the iconic pictures of marlboro man is in every man's head in this culture. And I've met people from other cultures too. Cigarettes were always one of the favorite ice breaker to begin a conversation.

But will I smoke forever? I really don't know. This question is haunting my head since the last months. Are there only disadvantages for being a smoker? What were the advantages?

cangkir bergores dan garis cahaya

2008-03-05T07:09:00.001+07:00

"ganti saja cangkirnya, yang itu tergores" kata Jan padaku

"hah?? maksudnya?"

"ya, itu nanti goresan akan kelihatan kalau sampai cangkir diputar..."

dalam benakku langsung terpikir betapa orang ini sangat berpikir tentang detil-detil kecil yang sering terlewatkanku pada saat memotret. Langsung kuingat kalau teman satu ini mempunyai basic sebagai fotografer stil-life dan interior. Semua harus pas sampai ke hal-hal kecil.

Pemotretan berlangsung dengan baik, dengan banyak sumbangan pikiran dan pembelajaran yang bisa kutarik. yes, learning by doing.

Ingatanku mengeluarkan sebuah nama lain yang dikaitkan dengan segala perbendaharaanku dengan detil. Bayu Prihantoro, seorang teman juga yang sedang bekerja magang nun jauh di ibukota. Beberapa saat lalu, sayangnya aku sudah lupa kapan, kami pernah mempunyai sebuah perbincangan tentang detil dalam foto dan film. Kami berdua mempunyai basic yang berbeda dalam bergelut dengan cahaya dan cerita. Bayu, sejak awalnya, adalah seorang pembuat film yang menyukai fotografi, sedangkan diriku, dari dasar mengenal fotografi dan belajar membuat film.

Otomatis, perbincangan itu membuat kami berdua memang mempunyai persamaan pendapat dalam peran sebuah detil dalam foto. Penting, tapi tidak selalu harus.

Bayu, seperti juga Jan, akan mengulangi foto atau take sebuah film jika detilnya tidak OK. Lain halnya dengan diriku yang menyukai travel, feature dan documentary foto. Terkadang ada detil yang letaknya tidak pas, ukurannya tidak pas atau apapun juga yang tidak pas. Tetapi Bayu mengungkapkan ketidakmampuannya memotret cepat dengan tekanan oleh waktu dan ruang. Susah memang, tetapi di situ aku justru mempunyai kelebihan.

Dua hari, Minggu dan Senin lalu, aku harus bergelut dengan pemikiran detil dalam foto interior dan stil life yang sedang kugarap. Pertengkaran diri antara ingin segera menyelesaikan pekerjaan, dan tuntutan kesempurnaan serta perasaan senang bisa memotret kembali berhamburan seperti anak SD berebut kelereng. Kacau dan kalut pada awalnya, diam dan berpikir pada akhirnya.

Pemikiran Jan menjemputku kembali pada ingatan akan pentingnya detil itu...

Dan itu juga yang menghantuiku juga Kris ketika kami memotret di dua hari itu...

Maaf, belum bisa kusampaikan sepenuhnya hasil yang kami capai, tapi yang pasti, kami masih jauh dari sempurna. Dan memang aku juga bukan gading yang tak retak, tak seorangpun yang tak retak.

Satenya Rakyat Jelata

2008-02-26T21:18:00.000+07:00

"itu kan satenya rakyat jelata, mas!" tukas seorang kawan ketika dia melihat foto itu.
Sejenak langsung teringat di benakku betapa murahnya sate itu. Sebenarnya sering aku melihat penjual sate gajih itu di emperan pasar Beringharjo.
Sate gajih. Kata "gajih" dalam bahasa jawa diartikan sebagai lemak, dan memang sate itu terbuat 100% dari lemak saja. kenyal dan langsung hilang di mulut. entah pak Bondan dari acara di televisi bilang maknyuss atau tidak, aku kurang tahu. tapi seandainya aku pak Bondan, aku akan mengatakan maknyus!
Segumpal lemak dalam tusukan lidi kelapa dengan bumbu kecap. Bau kecap dibakar memang khas, dan rasa manis nya menusuk lidah. Ada sedikit rasa eneg di akhirnya jika makan sate gajih tidak ditemani dengan sambel. Murah tenan! Seribu rupiah dapat tiga tusuk.
Masuk ke areal Pasar Malam Sekaten sabtu lalu langsung tersirat dalam benakku untuk membeli dan mencari sate itu. Juga abon sapi kasar yang mirip dengan suwiran (sobekan) daging kecil-kecil berasa manis gurih seperti empal. Makanan itu mirip dengan abon vietnam yang juga kasar. Bedanya: orang jawa memang suka manis.
Penjual sate pertama langsung kudatangi. Air ludah sudah membanjiri ruangan dalam rongga mulutku membayangkan nikmatnya makan sate itu. Kekecewaan kecil kudapati saat tidak ada sambel di situ. Seperti kubilang, agak eneg juga tanpa sambel. Tapi sudah setahun berlalu juga sejak aku makan sate gajih terakhir kalinya (juga di areal sekaten)...
enak lho!!! maknyuss...berani coba?

The fishermen and the sea...

2008-02-26T04:50:00.004+07:00

I was at the beach with Kris on the 9th of Februar this year. We were stucked and wanna try and find something fresh, like fresh air and fresh view. We didn't sleep at the night so that we wouldn't miss the sunrise. But it was a cloudy day, and the cold wind touched my face as I rode behind Kris on his vespa scooter that morning.
Arriving there, was an enlightment for me. I haven't seen the beach since the last September in Sulawesi. And I felt free. Not so many people were there to spend their weekend. We walked down the beach, were chatting about things and we took our own path sometimes.
The waves were as usual for the south sea (India Ocean). strong and powerful. in my mind I hide a fear for being captured and killed by the queen of the sea. But then I saw a man in a white T-shirt in the middle of the wave. He was holding a net fixed in a cross-shaped wooden frame. I've never saw that before. And he was not alone, there were other men using the same equipment. I watched them how they fished. Instead of going fishing with boats or having a very big net fixed in one of the rocks out there, they were using the power of the wave to fish.

The wave came in, they were ready and put the net on the ground while holding to the frame. As the wave went back, they pull the net and picked things there. small fishes, shells would be put in the can hanging beside their hips. Sometimes they found only garbages thrown to the sea by human being, and brought back to the shore by the wave. The fisher gave those garbage back to the sea. And I'm sure that they will catch those garbages again...
I remember of a sentence in Indonesian folksong... nenek moyangku orang pelaut...(my ancestors were seaman... It seems that we all have changed, the way we adapt to our environment. Or is it the environment, which has adapted itself to us? You know, with the garbages, with the trash...
But it was a relaxing day for me and Kris. I slept for 4 hour in the afternoon when I got home...

Zuckerwatte

2008-02-22T21:54:00.002+07:00

Hari ini hujan deras sejak siang hari selepas sholat jumat. Rencana motret Bekakak hampir diurungkan, tetapi karena telah berjanji ke seorang kawan, Lukman Hakim, maka aku berangkat. Macet, macet dan macet di jalan. Jogja macet!
Dan sayang seribu sayang, kawanku Lukman tak berhasil kutemui. Aku merasa tak enak kepadanya, aku rasa, aku akan minta maaf padanya...secepatnya.
Motret, walaupun rasa tak enak, harus jalan. Hujan masih mengguyur Jogja. Kami berdua juga datang terlambat sehingga ketinggalan momen. Sebel banget, tapi ya salahku sendiri, karena tidak disiplin waktu! Takut kamera basah (waduh, yang satu baru, yang satu mau dijual, kalau rusak bisa kalang kabut semua hehehe) akhirnya memodifikasi plastik kresek menjadi water-free-body :D hehehehe gak sempurna banget, tapi paling tidak kamera terlindung dan tetap bisa motret, walau hujan rintik2.
Tetapi, mengeluarkan kamera tetap agak ragu, sehingga banyak moment yang dilewatkan. Kecewa, tapi mau bagaimana lagi. Biar lah...
Acara selesai menjelang maghrib. Teh hangat dulu sebelum pulang sembari ngobrol kesana kemari dengan beberapa teman. Pertemuan hari itu diakhiri karena kami harus pulang dan letak parkir motor kami juga berbeda-beda.
Berjalan di bawah payung berdua di hujan gerimis menjelang malam memang asyik apalagi sambil nyanyi lagunya Doel Sumbang dan Nini Karlina (jaman tahun kapan tuh ya...hahaha).
Mata kami tertuju pada penjual arum manis di perempatan jalan, dan spontan christa berteriak girang. Singkat kata, satu arum manis dibeli dan mau melanjutkan perjalanan lagi berdua. Tetapi, dasar orang suka foto, dan waktu juga masih golden hour, maka aku berkata kalau aku mau memotretnya dulu, dengan Zuckerwatte (arum manis dalam bahasa Jerman) nya.

Gulali itu remuk...

2008-02-22T01:46:00.001+07:00

Anda suka permen? Pernah makan gulali?
Ketika kecil, saya suka sekali gulali. Sewaktu SD, dengan uang jajan harian 100 rupiah, saya suka jajan gulali pada saat jam istirahat pelajaran. Pak penjualnya menjual gulali itu di atas sepeda kayuhnya dengan kotak kayu kecil di atas sadel belakang berisi wajan dan tusukan bambu. Api kecil menyala di bawah wajan itu dan warna oranye menyala dari gulali itu seperti besi membara. Jemari pak penjual menari-nari melilitkan adonan panas dan membentuk suatu bentuk, kebanyakan menjadi peluit dengan bentuk ayam jago. Manis di ujung lidah, pahit di pangkal lidah. Uang diserahkan, kembali 50 perak.
Abad 21 tiba. Masa SD sudah jauh di belakang. Tiba-tiba saya teringat gulali oranye menyala itu. Wow, entah berapa lama saya sudah tak pernah melihatnya lagi. Sudah punahkah? Kadang saya dulu sempat berkeliling dari SD ke SD mencari penjaja gulali. Tetapi tidak ada yang saya temukan. Sampai suatu ketika saya menemukannya di samping hotel Melia Purosani Yogyakarta, saat acara tahunan Imlek sedang akan dibuka. Tak ada sepeda, tetapi jalan kaki, dan pak Penjual itu duduk di atas bangku kayu kecil sedang merangkai gulali menjadi bunga. Rp 2000 untuk yang besar dan 1000 untuk yang kecil. 20 kali lipat sampai 40 kali lipatnya masa itu. Segera saya memesan 2 yang besar. Satu berbentuk bunga, satu berbentuk bintang. Untuk Christa dan untuk saya sendiri.
Senang rasanya menemukan kenangan masa kecil. Sayangnya, karena hari itu saya memotret, gulali itu patah.
Hadiah kecil untuk Christa patah…dan saya tak tahu lagi ke mana penjual itu akan singgah selanjutnya.
Beberapa hari telah berlalu, hingga hari itu Christa bertanya: “Kok kamu nggak punya hadiah untukku?” …waduuuh…
Akhirnya saya jujur dan mengatakan kalau sebetulnya saya sudah membeli sesuatu, tapi patah dan rusak karena tidak hati-hati menyimpannya. Dan saya merasa tidak enak untuk memberikan itu padanya. “Nggak apa-apa kok” tukasnya.
“betul tidak apa-apa?” tanya saya.
“beneran, bawa aja. Rusak atau tidak itukan nggak masalah, yang penting maksudmu.”

Hadiah permen itu memang telah patah dan remuk, tetapi mungkin itu juga mewakili pribadi saya. Saya ingin memberi yang sempurna, tetapi tidak ada yang tahu apa yang akan terjadi, dan saya memang tidak sempurna. Tetapi di situlah seseorang ditanyakan, apakah ia mau menerima ketidaksempurnaan seseorang? Kerapuhannya, kemanisan di ujung rasa dan kepahitan di pangkal lidah? Atau memilih habis manis sepah dibuang?
Sungguh saya terkesima dan berpikir, apakah saya juga sudah menerima wanita ini dengan segala kekurangannya? Atau saya hanya suka dengan kelebihannya? Yang jelas, pengalaman ini mengingatkan saya untuk mampu menerima seorang apa adanya.
Dan saya berterimakasih kepada Christa yang mau menerima saya seperti ini. Serta tak lupa pada bapak penjual gulali yang berjalan kaki memikul manisnya kenangan masa kecil saya sembari mencari pengharapan bagi anak dan keluarganya. Semoga nasib juga akan mempertemukan saya kembali dan mengingatkan saya lagi tentang pengalaman ini.

Backstage blackout...

2008-02-21T01:22:00.003+07:00

“Sur, babarsari mati lampu nih? Bisa motret gak nih?”
itu bunyi SMS Mike yang aku baca di kegelapan saat itu. Bisa gak ya? Aku sendiri juga gak tahu jawabannya, bagaimana memotret di saat kegelapan total dan di dalam terowongan sempit di belakang panggung. Bau badan tak sedap mengganggu hidungku.
Pikiranku saat itu berkata “cantik-cantik kok ada yang bau badan sih? Udah gitu, ikut kontes pemilihan putri lagi?” Sementara itu, suara Chandra, sang backstage manager melengking di tengah menggaungnya suara-suara lain di terowongan itu yang, walaupun dalam kegelapan, terlihat penuh dan sesak. Hanya lampu LED telefon genggam yang terlihat memendar di situ.
“jadiinibagaimana,chan?”
“masuknyabagaimana?”
“ntar masuknya…”
“urutannyakayaktadiitukan?”
“bukan,urutannyaitukayaknomerawal,yakan?”
…
suara nya campur aduk, semua berebut tanya, berebut omong, n chandra seperti kehilangan kendali akan situasi. Tapi Chandra bukan orang yang segampang itu kehilangan kendali. Pada akhirnya suaranya dan perintahnyalah yang didengarkan. Aku sendiri tidak bisa begitu memperhatikannya, karena aku bergulat dengan keadaan cahaya. Flash yang terpasang di atas body kameraku rusak dan sebetulnya juga modelnya tidak cocok untuk kamera itu. Jadi aku hanya bisa mengontrol flash itu manual. Hitung-hitung sebentar, jepret sekali, gagal, hitung lagi, putar flash di bounce ke belakang, jepret lagi, berhasil. Yuhuu…
seneng banget…beneran berhasil? Cek hasil barusan lagi di kamera…waduh….ternyata…gak fokus…hidupin auto fokus, komputer kameranya bingung…OK, manual deh kalau gitu, coba manual. Gak kelihatan apa-apa. Dan penanda fokus di viewfinder kedip-kedip terus, pertanda dia juga bingung.
Saat itu aku sudah lupa dengan SMS dari Mike tadi.
Satu jam kemudian, listrik hidup lagi. Huff… seneng juga. Tapi dengan itu jadi terkuak kasus kehilangan telefon genggam dan dompet. Tenang, fren, bukan telefonku dan bukan dompetku. Dan bukan aku malingnya.
Jadi teringat komik Detective Conan…Ah jadi melebar ceritanya…
Tetapi dari pengalaman itu, aku menjadi bertanya dan berlatih, bagaimana caranya mengontrol kamera di saat gelap, ISO rendah, dengan flash terpasang tapi dapat mood suasana dan dapat gambar memadai… Ach ini cuma sekedar cerita kecil saja…dan proses belajarku masih berlanjut karena belum ada jawaban yang 100 persen tepat juga. Foto-foto depan panggungnya kapan-kapan yah...

“I won’t forget how to smile”

2008-02-18T22:36:00.000+07:00

I remember when I went to Gawok Market with him in 2006. Almost 2 years ago. The negative strips were almost broken. I couldn’t develop it for a very long time since my problems with finance etc etc.
I was there with Doni. The night before, we’ve borrowed cameras from friends who has cameras and lenses and we start the motor cycle in the dawn to the Gawok market. The market itself was very familiar to some photographers. Many of them like this market for it’s traditionality, for the people warmth and hospitality. And I was (and still am) only one of the newbie who likes to do whatever the seniors and masters have done. They were hunting in such beautiful or interesting thing (but forget most of the familiar things around us).
So was I and Doni. The first thing had to be done when we arrived was having a breakfast! Hot javanese tea (overboiled jasmine black tea with extra sugars) with nasi tengkleng (lamb ribs cooked in coconut milk and spices with rice). Delicious. And then we took different directions in the market, hunting on our own.
I knew Doni since he was a waiter and manager in a small café above a bookstore where I used to hang out with friends. He is a very polite man, and, as far as I know him, internalizes the javanese philosophy in his life.
His passion for photography has brought him to a lot of situation which also depends on his background. His family is not rich, and he had to struggle with the study fee. And such situations were things we have in commons. Since the first meeting we had build a good friendship together and tried to help each other as good as possible.
My admiration for him was his will and his hardwork. He could easily talk to somebody and approach the person faster than any others. His works were fantastic for me.
One day, he told me that life has been unfair to him. Photography, his passion, needs a lot to be done and prepared. He is always looking for and using any single chance. But he thinks, he always failed. He talked a lot about his private problems some nights ago in his room, and I feel honored to be allowed to hear those things. I feel like he wanted to cry out, but there is a toughness in him which wouldn’t allow him to.
As a friend, I could only hear his words and give some opinions but most of time I could only closed my mouth, speechless and has no opinion.
I hope I would be able to give him any helping opinion. And the only opinion was to wish him the best and hope that he won’t forget his own words “I won’t forget how to smile” !

Happy Birthday

2008-02-18T22:13:00.002+07:00

It was almost 22:00 when Diki gave me a USB memory stick in the lobby of the campus. He told me that inside were the photos for the display for the birthday of the community.
I looked at the photos and rather disappointed about the content. And somehow I blame my self for not giving them proper motivation to learn more about journalism. In some photos, the “what” was not there. In some others the “who”, “when”, “where”, “why” and “how”. I said to my self that we all have failed to do the job as learning journalist (if we can call ourselves that). The text was there, but the context was not there. Sad, sad, and sad…
Anyway, I try to do the best by giving them courage that showing failure and mistakes is also part of learning. I do mistakes my self too, and I have to show it to the world sometimes. Because mistakes invite critics and those critics are important, very, to develop ourselves. And I helped them to mount the pictures into frames the next night. It was a day full of joy and smiles, and I, again, feel the warmth of the community.
I was on the way, in the middle of the rainy evening, with my girlfriend, chasing from one corner to another corner of the city, looking for chinese clothes for a seminar in the next day. And suddenly I remember to come to the birthday party. I made it to come to the celebration, but not for a long time, because we still had to go to someone house who has the chinese clothes for the seminar. The last thing I heard was a correction from the former chairman of the community, that it was assembled for the first time in 1992 not in 1991!
Unfortunately I couldn’t join the guys for a long time. But I wish a good year and all other best wishes to the community and my friends there!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Learn to write...

2008-02-14T17:26:00.011+07:00

Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.
(Samuel Beckett)

I’m still learning to write. And my friend, Mike was right, photography is also writing, if one might say. It’s not as easy as one also might thought. Both photography and writing should tell stories not jus burst of technique and good picked words or sentences.
I’m still learning also in photography. It’s also not easy as it seems if you see the great works of Cartier Bresson, Ansel Adams, Jodi Cobb, James Nachtwey, David Alan Harvey, Kartono Riyadi, Edy Hasby or any other photographers whose works has influenced a lot of young photographers and also has caused big or small changes in this world.
I always admire friends of mine who could write their ideas, their thinking, their emotion into words like Karolus Naga, Horst H. Liebner, Ridwan Alimuddin, Helmut Schadt, Ambara Yoko, Sumaryanto Bronto, or Hendy Aditya. And I always wondering how they could be able to write or take photos like that?
They were just great!
Fauzul Muhammad asked Andreas Harsono, a well known Indonesian writer about how to write in English (if you are not a native speaker)? And I have asked how Julian Sihombing could make a series of pictures from a man riding motorcycle hit a dog and fell, while the dog was allright? Is it coincidence that the good writers can write that good stuffs or coincidence that the good photographers can take such good photos?
When I asked Julian Sihombing that question, he answered “You would hurt my feeling if you said that it was just coincidence. I was well prepared and I’ve predicted what would happen” Later on, he describe his way in photography, from the first day he learned until now, and those years was filled with practice.
And Andreas Harsono answered the question: “I have a secret. Work in Jakarta Post!” which actually was not the only answer. In his answer to the question he wrote his experiences in english writing. From snick-snacks to big things. He had to learn those things too.
Well, one german proverb I still remember in mind was right. “Übung macht den Meister” – practice makes perfect!
Is there any other things could improve my skill and my self? I’m still looking and I’m still learning. Feel free to give your opinion if you read this post. What do you think?

Daydreams on Malioboro

2008-02-12T01:38:00.000+07:00

Since some countries announced Travel Warning to Indonesia, the tourism branch fell down, especially in my city. Street sellers and street artists along Malioboro could only wait for domestic tourists. They wait the whole day against the humid and hot weather, against the wind and rain ...and soon...they fell a sleep...
it was midday, and I was on the street again to get some air (not to mention that this was not fresh) but I hoped it could help to clear my mind. And I saw sleeping people along Malioboro. I took out my Canonet and take pictures. After some frames, it stucked and I couldn't roll the film correctly. At the evening, I took the film to be developed, and I was very disappointed that alot of the frames was not correctly rolled. Half double exposure, half OK...well...here some photos...and I'll upload the rest as soon as possible.

A Sunday with friends

2008-02-11T23:08:00.000+07:00

It was spontaneous with the decision to go to Rawa Pening and Ambarawa Train Museum in Central Java 88km away from Yogyakarta. Christa asked me to go there. I was not so really in the mood but it was a great idea though. So I proposed to go with some friends. SMS and calls were made. Things arranged. 6 persons said yes, 2 persons said "wait for our call".
3 am, in the morning we met as arranged in front of a drugstore. Only 5 persons were there, Alfi, Ferdy, Rio, Christa and me. Where were the others who said yes? No SMS, no calls... Well, we start the engines and drive to Rawa Pening racing with trucks and buses in the dark. We didn't know whether a good colorfull sunrise or a rather diffuse one would be waiting for us...
We were lucky for the good sunrise. And we start to go to Ambarawa Train Museum. An old facility and it woke a bad memory for me... But somehow I hoped to find a group of people who would rent the "main course" together. The price was higher than the last time I had the chance to ride with the old train. 3,25 million rupiah (about 350USD), or 55 thousand rupiah a person (if there were 60 persons willing to ride with the romantic train). No one wanted to rent the train. It was almost full of kindergarten children spending their sunday. "If you can't use the wood then use the root" so said an old indonesian proverb. You can't rent the big wooden train, which could only be moved using alot of wood. You use a cheaper alternative then! For only ten thousand rupiahs! The engine is not as old as the german made engine, it was an 80s car engine transformed into a simple train...The children, by the way, didn't care. They seems to like the one hour long ride through the mountain. And it looked like in the big city's train station before and after Ramadan! They were fighting to get a seat! Alfi, Christa and Rio wanted also... I said "Go ahead. I'll wait here". It seems quite interesting riding a wagon like that full of children, but...ehm, I think I should give the chance to those young birds from kindergarten to try and experience the feeling and hope they could learn from the ride. Well, the three friends couldn't catch up with the anthusiastic mothers, fathers, teachers in the seat-fight. They gave up. And soon we were relaxing in an old room, where the station officers spending the hot days. The room was simple and old. But it was comfortable with old chairs, pictures, and romantic feeling. Soon, I made pictures from the friends, as we enjoy the time there and sank in our own and in our dialog with each others.

"I'd love to have friends"

2008-02-11T22:01:00.000+07:00

That’s what my sister wrote as a shoutout in her profile in friendster.com, a social web. I was touched by that shoutout at the first time I read that sentence. I know my sister, I also know how my family is.
She was and is still a very introvert and shy person. My mother is in fact a good mother but sometimes, she can’t motivate my sister how to get in touch with other people.
When my sister was a young girl in the elementary school, she was always alone and she liked to play alone with a second hand doll from my cousin or with things we have at home (we had not so many things). Sometimes, she played with a pail or with plates or utilities my mom used to bake a cake or something. She had never had a friend, and she was shy. The only girl I know was my cousin, from whom she got her doll. It was an armless doll with some blond hairs and no clothes. It was my mom who had made the clothes. And that was her friend.
Having a two years age difference was actually not so hard for me to play sometimes with her. But most of the time, I was not there for her.
We had sometimes not enough food since my father was a gambler, and had spent the family income in gambling and my mother had worked on a weekly loan in a laundry nearby. My sister was in comparation to me very weak. Every time she had stress, say it an exam or other things, she was sick. But since she had no friends to play with, she spent most of her times at home and played or learned alone.
I still have this picture in my head, but I hope she can’t remember about this. The picture of a room, where my father hit my mother with her belt and my mom was crying while I was crying under the box where my sister usually slept and holding her tight. I don’t remember what the fight was about.
And right now, she is a grown up woman, who has a bachelor degree in economic and management, but still has no work. She has some friends, but not so many. She is not an ugly person or a person with bad personality. But simply because she was an introvert person, she can’t manage her network. And I argued with my mom and my grand mother about her. I fight for her so that they (my mom and her mother) would give her permission to find a job in other city, than it’s a little bit hard in my city to find a job. It will, as I thought, give her good lessons to survive alone without family and to get in touch with other people.
I remember that I still had no pictures of her in my album, I haven’t made any single picture from her…and I think that’s what I’m gonna do next time. Take her picture from her.
I love you, my sister! And I want to be there when you need your brother.

Grigak

2007-12-09T03:10:00.001+07:00

Dry season, end 1989, an old Toyota Kijang entered this village for the first time. The driver was old, his hair was white and so was his beard. His batik shirt was clean and neatly ironed. Nobody in the village knew who that old man was. Soon he began to visit the village regularly. And he brought enlightment in to the village. Waters was the major problem in that area. The soil contains almost only rocks, people had to walk 5km long and they had to risk their life to bring waters for daily life and also for their cattle or sheeps. The risk was so huge because the only well was direct at the south ocean, which was known for the brutality.

Nobody could understand why he decided to buy 8 hectares land. And why he decided to build a small wooden house from bamboo and rocks direct on a cliff at the ocean.
He stayed for two weeks and went back again to Yogyakarta for another two weeks, and came back again to Grigak. He made changes here and there. He explained to Grigak's villagers how to capture rain as water reserve and how to built their own toilettes! And not very long after that, he built a wall around the well at the cliff at the ocean. 50centimeters thick and 8 meters high. Also a 500 meters pipe installation and a hand operated water pump. People didn't have to risk their life again but they still have to walk 5 km to reach the safe water pump. 1993, his doctor has forbidden him to come again to the village because of the heart problems. The house was abandoned, so was also the well. No one cares about the well, about the wall and about the problem. Not even the villagers. For them, the problem should be and has been solved by that old man. No follow up.
2007, eight years after his death. Grigak back to the time before the old man came. no independent water supply. People prefer to buy water from the city for 150.000 rupiahs each tank than to work hard to get water. The mentality of the people didn't change. They stay lazy and passive. They don't think to make, but to be given. They depends on things from the nature and from the faith. But the hospitality was admirable from them. They have almost nothing, but they do care to share with me. And I was enjoying the moments fishing with them at the ocean and the moments i walk across that old man's land.

the SARIMIN's show

2007-11-28T03:59:00.001+07:00

Indonesia has a traditional show which people used to call "topeng monyet" or the masking monkey, in which a monkey shows things it can do. And the cliché "topeng monyet" is the name "SARIMIN". But this show is not a topeng monyet show.

One of Indonesian artist, Butet Kertarejasa, well known as one of the best monologist, has performed his new show called SARIMIN at November 26th and 27th, 2007 in Koesnadi Cultural Center at the Gadjah Mada University of Yogyakarta. I was glad to be able to come there.

In this monologue, Butet told the story of a man, Sarimin, with his monkey, also Sarimin, who has nothing in the world but each other. People were always looking down at them, as if they were nothing. One day, Sarimin has found an ID card and since he was an honest person, he took it to the police station. But, what happened? The police was too busy and let him waiting all the time. Soon, Sarimin didn't realize how many days has passed since the first day he has to wait. Finally, he met a police officer and told him about the ID card. The police didn't thank him for having found the card, but they accused him for having stolen it, since the card belongs to one of the judge in the supreme court.

Sarimin has to go to jail for his "crime". And... (I don't wanna tell you. Just visit the next show in East Java or maybe you would be able to find a DVD from the show). In this land, everything could happen as you wish. The only requirement is unfortunately money and power. And money can buy the power you want, even law and justice. Sarimin and I have things in common. We don't have money, and also no power. And (maybe) you too. But I realize that I should be thankful for still having a bigger chance than he. I'm still young, full of energy and who knows, maybe someday I could help people like Sarimin.
More fotos from the show:

No one can work alone, also Butet needs the people around him to work with. His Wife, his brother, and his crew. (click on the photo below, large size)

Beauty is Pain

2007-11-26T01:42:00.001+07:00

A bit or more I was disappointed with the result of her story. I thought it would be like stories I’ve seen in magazines. Indepth reportaging. But it wasn’t. Agus was also disappointed. But maybe it was also my own mistake for making a too big hope. “Beauty is pain”. Well, that could be the title phrase for the story about the lady boy. I heard it from the make up artist that night she was making up Cathrine and found it very shocking. It was simple, but strong. Unfortunately my writer didn’t write it. I don’t want to make article like the stereotyped and clichéd articles about transsexuals I’ve read and seen in newspapers, journals, magazines, or televisions. But let’s talk about “BEAUTY IS PAIN”! Beauty as defined in the Oxford English Dictionary is: “a combination of qualities, such as shape, color, or form, that pleases the aesthetic senses”. It should have balance, symetrie and no lack of asthetic. And somehow, it’s also often associated with “perfect”. You are perfect if you are beautiful… is that true? Why should someone say “beauty is pain” if beauty is also perfect? How can it be painful to be perfect?

Human being can't be satisfied with what they have, with what they belong. They are always talking about moving forward, being better, being perfect. In these last years I've seen a lot of women in the television were trying to get rid their cellulite or a lot of women and youth suffers under anorexia, bulimia and some of them desire liposuction to be a perfect woman. They feel bad under their skin, which lies and covers a ton of fat. The american doctors were introducing non fat diet. and the other doctors said: "no, it should be a non calorie diet". And also, MTV introduce the new pop star, who was thin like a salt stick. Thousands of kilometers from the western countries, on the street of my town, I met a 13 years old girl in a modern mall. Her bones were crawling under the skin and I could see them even if they were wrapped with the T-Shirt. The face was pretty but I feel sorry for the body. I know, it's MTV generation. The beautiful stars on TV are thin, and we should be thin. No! We have to be thin! And thousands of kilometers from me, I saw people dying because of famine in the desert of Africa through the screen of my computer. They were after food to have more weight. And they need fat to be able to continue life. Not enough...blonde is beautiful, blue eyes are perfect and white skin? those are fine! How many girls in my country wants to be white. I wonder, what if the POND'S motto would come true? "Shiny white"? My thoughts were telling me about ghost picture...

The models and the singers want to be as thin as possible, so they can fit designer's collections. The most women think models and stars live in glamorous world, full of party and having fun. I don't think so (well, I'm not a star, but I'm sure about it). Some of them has to go on very strict diet. No bread, no rice, no meat, no protein, no bla bla bla...Do they feel hungry? Do they feel angry? Do they feel sorry to their own body? Somehow they have sold their soul and body to the skin and body bussiness (not prostitution) and I mean, the business of beauty. Yeah, beauty sells. And a mentor of mine, Iswandi, has said "The media define the beauty and it can tell you whether you are beautiful or not."
Would it not be a good comparation? The transsexuals and the models? The models and the teenagers or the under anorexia suffering women? the teenagers and the transsexuals? How they were trying so hard and risking their body to be beautiful? It's just confusing for me to understand it. What is also BEAUTY? How can we be beautiful? Is beauty perfect and fun? or is BEAUTY IS PAIN?

The Leica and the Lucky

2007-10-18T21:41:00.001+07:00

Have you ever heard about the name Leica? I’m sure you have. And I’m sure you know what that name means. A perfection of technic. Pure luxus and world wide known high quality. For you who has never heard about Leica, this brand produces high quality optics, camera, lenses, etc. For people who love photography, I’m sure that the name M3, M6, M7, MP, R8, R9, Minilux, Digilux are associated with Leica. But what is a Leica for you? It’s been a thought in my head all the time, the differences between a photography lover (people who loves photography) and camera lover (people who said that they love photography but always talking only about the camera, the lens, the gears.) The last one is also known as “gearheads”. And I think sometimes about the meaning differences about the name Leica for photography lovers and gearheads.
For photography lovers: do you think that Leica is a guarantee that you’ll get a good picture?
I sometimes also wondering if I would have a Leica one day (I don’t know when). It’s true! And I always asking my self “do you deserve a Leica?” or “what would that thing bring to you?” or “are your pictures gonna be better if you had a Leica and work with that?” Well, I love photography and it should be no matter with what gear I work, because I should not be a gearhead if I love photography. But I can’t deny that I have a lot of associations with Leica: Cartier Bresson, Rene Burri, David Alan Harvey, Annie Leibovitz, German Quality, handmade, etc. And those names/words all were also associated with the word “good”, “superb”, “master”, “high quality”.
Those questions about Leica probably would be answered with a “yes” for those gearheads. It guarantees good results and good photos for them. I’m sure about it. And now we come to the second name “Lucky”. Ever heard about it? If you live in China or Indonesia and you love photography or ever learned photography, maybe you have heard the name Lucky. And I’d say, you must be lucky enough to know it. Lucky is a brand of celluloid film. It’s made by a chinese producer under the name Lucky Film Corporation. And the “lucky” I write about here is the Lucky SHD Panchromatic Black&White Film. I knew this film from an old friend of mine, Han (I don’t know where he is right now). And not also that, he has taught me to love photography and has taught me the technic things. That was the first day I met him and he gave me two rolls of those Lucky Pan. I was surprised, and I asked him what would the films cost? He answered that Lucky Pan would cost less than a dollar (in fact, Rp 8000 and really less than a dollar). Lucky Pan was the beginning for me to love photography. The material is so thin and the grain is rough and big (no kidding). And another friend of mine who has always known me shooting black and white photo with Lucky Pan ISO 100 called me “the Lucky Man” it means I’m lucky enough if I have my picture just the way I had shot and developed. Sometimes the result is not what you want and is not what you have worked for. Anyway, lucky for me to know this Lucky Pan. I had a lot of funny stories about lucky pan. Sometimes I hate Lucky Pan, sometimes I love it. But would it make my picture better if I use a Kodak Tmax or Ilford Delta? Maybe not, but one thing I know is that Lucky Pan doesn’t last long. In 1 year you’ll start losing the picture because the material is so thin. And that happened to me although I always use fixer and stopper when I develop B&W Films. And would a good photographer have bad pictures when he/she is using a Lucky film?
Anyway…what is a “good picture”? that’s also always been a question which still has no answer in world wide photography forums. But for me, a good picture is not only from the technical sides but also from the content. What is a beautiful and technically perfect photo if it has no content and no messages to the world? What if the content, which is written or told by the photographer, is also an excuse for the photographer because actually it has no content at all? Or could the picture help human being to make this world better? To help their kind and also this world? Then what if a Leica used with Lucky Pan? Would it make a good picture? Is it a waste for the Leica to be used together with a quite low quality film?
And it comes back again to myself and also to all of you. Are you the Leica or the Lucky Pan? Do you think your talent and ability is being waste with bad equipments? Do you think you do deserve a Leica? Would Henri Cartier Bresson able to make a good and powerfull photo using a Lucky film? And would you be a Henri Cartier Bresson if you use Leica?

luck, talent, commitment, hardworks, network

2007-09-17T00:52:00.000+07:00

those are five things I can't separate. few months ago David Alan Harvey has written and ask his blog reader about it. I gave my opinion also. he wrote actually about talent and hardwork. but some people has also added their opinion about luck or networking. i added about luck also, but i think right now that commitment is also a very important element.
but true, I'm still thinking about the other elements to.
all I can do is only relating all of them to my own experience. and I believe that all of us are doing the same.
and I am still in the crossroad where all of the thing meets. I am not confused about my decision but sometimes I am affraid to choose the wrong way. that's why I always asked my self "Suryo, what is your commitment?"
What if I don't have talent? what if I will become a lazy man? what if I can't manage and expand my network? Do I have luck in a thing, especially in this thing?
My commitment to choose photography based only to my passion about it. I'm not that good in technical things, but I'm sure I can learn.
Sometimes I think about people such as trash collector or a beggar or a poor street seller. Are they not lucky? or do they dont have any talent? can't they recognize their talent? do they have commitment to do something? are they working hard enough? too hard? what kind of friends/relatives they have?
what do you say?

a family and the queen of the sea

2007-09-15T09:51:00.000+07:00

Javanese people who lives on the south coast of Java believes in the queen of the south sea. And they call her "Ratu Kidul" (Queen of the South). She should be a very beautiful queen wearing green dress but beneath her beauty, she is also believed as a mean queen. She swallows human flesh especially those, who also wear green!
its a myth...
The Hondodento family, its the largest javanese family ever, hold every year an offering ceremony in the Parangkusumo beach to pray for blessing from the queen. And alot of javanese and believers coming all the way to Parangkusumo, to get something from the offering. A small piece of flower, or leaf or you name it...should bring a blessing in the following year for them.
The sun was very bright and the sand under my feet was hot. My sandals was broken and I had a fight with my girlfriend 10 minutes before the ceremony starts.

I saw human beings, alot of them. No one knows where they were from, but for sure: they were there for the pieces! A human-alley was built, and the family guard, riding his dark brown horse in his javanese clothes preparing the way for the ceremony. He sat there, and throwing his sharp eyes on me. I felt shocked but i know, I may not stand in the middle of the way. I smiled at him and pull my camera and make a shot. It was wonderful.

The family members, were sitting on the hot sand without any chairs or mattress. the women were wearing white and brown dress and also batik. The men, they wore as they want. Some wore dark suit, some golden suit, some white suit.

After the ceremony finished, the crowds started to collect everything the could find which was carried back from the waves. Flowers, eggs, leaves, water, ...

And prayer were chanted by the women, to beg for blessing from the queen of the green south sea, for the family, for the business, for the community, and for themselves.

I shop, therefore I am

2007-09-15T05:55:00.000+07:00

the air was hot that afternoon. but i didn't care. all i care was to walk. alone. only with a borrowed camera from Oscar. I missed the feeling of walking alone with a camera. I just wanted to try to open my eyes again. And I want to know other people.
The street, as always, was busy. Motorcycles, becaks, cars, buses, horse carts, bikes...just name it! Malioboro is not malioboro if it's not so busy and crowded. It was the most beautiful street in the town. but now? I don't know. Well, it's been a public secret that the street got its name from Lord Marlborough (not the cigarette brand), but javanese couldn't spell the name correctly. And malioboro sounds easier than mar-l-bo-ro-u.
The shopping alley also! Tourists and locals meets and mixed there just to shop! in malls, small shops or shopping on the street. and that's malioboro's life! "they shop, therefore I am"...

what about the becak driver if no one needs them? what about the street seller if no one comes? here are some photos from them. made only for my own pleasure knowing those people...

Man for Others – Dauzan Farook

2007-06-16T02:00:00.000+07:00

Ketika saya melangkahkan kaki saya di gang kecil itu, saya merasa seolah saya kembali ke sebuah kampung di masa lalu. Di mana nilai-nilai akhlak dan moral agama sangat diperhatikan dan diperjuangkan. Kedatangan saya ke situ untuk mengunjungi seorang tokoh yang sudah tak lagi muda usianya seperti juga rumah-rumah dan bangunan-bangunan yang berdiri di samping kanan kiri di gang tersebut.

Petunjuk yang saya miliki hanyalah nama Dauzan Farook dan Mabulir. Setelah hanya sekali bertanya kepada seorang lelaki paruh baya, sampailah saya ke sebuah rumah tua dengan dinding krem muda yang cat temboknya sudah ditumbuhi jamur di sana sini dan sudah mengelupas.

Seolah sudah menunggu kedatangan saya, seorang lelaki tua kurus berjenggot putih, berkacamata dan berpeci menyapa saya di depan pintu rumah itu dengan ramah dan mempersilakan saya masuk. Saya sempat sosoknya berjalan dari pintu menuju ruangan gelap yang dipenuhi dengan ratusan atau mungkin ribuan buku yang tersusun di berbagai rak. Sosok itu bungkuk, baju putihnya kumal, lengan panjang kemeja itu digulung sampai ke siku. Jalannya tidak tertatih-tatih dan dengan suara yang berlogat jawa dia mempersilakan saya kembali untuk masuk. Beliau sendiri segera menduduki sebuah kursi usang dengan sandaran dari karet dan bantalan kursi dari kain gombal dan bantal yang ditumpuk. Posisinya membelakangi tumpukan buku yang ada di ruangan remang-remang yang berkesan lembab tersebut.

lebih dari 6000 buku dikoleksinya. Tidak cuma dikoleksi untuk dijadikan pajangan saja, tetapi buku-buku itu dibaktikannya kepada mereka yang haus akan ilmu pengetahuan.

"Ya begini sekarang saya berperang lagi, mas!" tukasnya kepada saya. Di masa mudanya, lelaki berusia 82 tahun ini bergabung dengan pasukan boneka bentukan Jepang lalu bergabung dengan saudara sebangsanya di Tentara Keamanan Rakyat alias TKR. Kesukaannya terhadap buku dan pikirannya yang terbuka sekaligus prihatin terhadap pendidikan bangsa dan minat baca kaum muda jaman sekarang membuatnya kembali mengangkat „senjata“ berupa buku untuk memberi pencerahan.

Setelah ditinggal mati istrinya, pak Dauzan mengalami kesepian. Tetapi kesepian itu terisi dengan buku yang ia sebarkan kepada kelompok-kelompok belajar di berbagai masjid. Dahulu saat tubuhnya masih terasa kuat, pak Dauzan akan bersepeda berkeliling dari kelompok baca yang satu ke kelompok lain atau juga mempergunakan kendaraan angkutan umum. Tetapi saat ini, beliau harus bersandar kepada anak menantunya atau kepada seorang pembantu kerjanya yang biasanya mengantarkannya menggunakan sepeda motor.

Waktu luangnya paginya lebih ia isi untuk merawat dan memperbaiki buku-buku rusak di bagian belakang rumahnya. „Akan saya bangun bengkel buku! Kalau dikasih nama salon buku kayaknya terlalu bagus. Di sini bengkel buku saja!“ ujarnya sambil menunjuk sebuah ruangan basah oleh air hujan yang masuk melalui lubang-lubang di atap. Kertas-kertas berserakan sudah basah tergenang air yang mencapai rak buku penuh buku rusak. Di belakang rak buku itu, terpampang potret lukisan Ki Hajar Dewantara.

Pak Dauzan sungguh menghormati masa lalu bangsa ini. Ia menghormati orang-orang besar yang pernah berjuang dan berkorban untuk memperjuangkan sesuatu yang lebih baik. Beberapa potret pahlawan nasional terpampang di sana. Mungkin beliau sendiri juga seorang pahlawan, tetapi siapa peduli dan siapa yang kenal beliau?

Usia lanjutnya tidak menghalanginya membaca. Sebuah lup dari plastik tergantung di tali yang terikat di rompi hitamnya. Lup itu membantunya membaca tulisan di buku-buku yang baginya cenderung kecil. Ia ingat apa yang pernah dibacanya dan di mana. Dan pengetahuannya yang luas, cara pikirnya yang terbuka akan membuat orang merasa bertemu dengan seorang guru yang arif.

Bak seorang semar, tertua tetapi berilmu, Dauzan Farook terus mengabdi untuk masyarakat sekitarnya melalui caranya sendiri dengan penuh kerendahan hati.

The Hearts of Jogja - Pasar Ngasem

2007-06-15T02:39:00.000+07:00

The Hearts of Jogja – Ngasem
I want to start with a small project of essay about the hearts of Jogja, I mean the center from my city Jogjakarta. May you enjoy it.
Suryo.

Pasar Ngasem, the bird market in the middle of Jogjakarta. The Market is not as big as normal market, but at the weekend it would be fullfilled with people. Javanese men loves bird, especially racing pigeon and perkutut. But Ngasem is not so crowded during the normal days…