Going deaf in Padang

The first time I came to this medium-sized city in the south-western part of Sumatra was in 1996. I had just started my first big job after graduating from college, and had to do some field work for a proposal. I didn't see anything of the city, just whisked through it to go to the boonies. I remember little from that visit except the crappy hotel I will not stay in again, and the little souvenir shop with lots of nice embroidered goodies.

This time, I already have seen, like, half of the city and more. The highlight so far is the Andalas University campus up in the mountains of Limau Manis, about half an hour by an air-conditioned, smoke-free, fragrance-free, and noise-free taxi (bless it! not even a trace of cigarette smoke!). A little bit about the campus: it's superbly laid out, with a modern interpretation of traditional architecture, and with great views of the surrounding mountains and, in the distance, the lower-lying town and the sea. In fact, I think of all the university campuses in Indonesia I've seen, it's the best so far.

What I will be ranting about this time, actually, is how loud the music are being played in the public transport (busses, minibusses) of this place. Now, I've been to almost all major towns in Sumatra, so I can confidently report that out here people like their music LOUD and everyone tries to outdone their neighbors. In my opinion, however, Padang City breaks the record for realy going out of their way to bust your ear drums. After a day riding in and out of busses, I feel my ears going numb, my organs beating to a leftover rhythm, and my head pounding with a curiously sharp, but narrowly located, throbbing. It's as if some nerve cells in the noise sector of my brain is pulsing against my skull.

And the music! It's either old, B-type, rock songs, or maddening techno-style mixes that repeats a phrase 3,000 times before moving on to repeating the next for another 3,000 times. The awfulness of the music actually is what I mind most--the noise I could somewhat guard against by jamming tissue into my ears.

I actually asked several drivers (at first out of anger, but after several rides out of curiosity) as to the reason why they play music so loud. The consensus is that this is a marketing gimmick! It seems that the drivers think that the ladies and gentlemen of Padang City would rather board those vehicles which will guarantee premature deafness and numbing of the brain! And especially the young gentlemen (Aha, another evidence confirming they're the least health-conscious, aka suicidal, layer of any population).

Anyways, to you out there heading this way: bring industrial-grade earplugs if you plan to do any time with the Padang City public transport system. Riding next to the driver is best (that is, if you don't mind second-hand cigarette smoke as an added-ambiance), since speakers are located in the back for customers' maximum enjoyment. Enjoy!

Girls reporting from Aceh

These past few weeks I've been glued to the TV screen in an roller coaster of emotions ranging from shock, rage, sorrow, cynicism (is this an emotion?) but also pride and envy. Come again?

I'm proud of those chick reporters our TV stations send over to cover the tsunami-hit areas of Aceh. You roll over the channels and women are looking back at you, showing you the destruction, the disfigured bodies, the huddling masses. They bring people to speak out and thell their stories, find you the heart-wrenching souls who makes you feel your life is a pampered luxury in comparison. Above all, they bring emotion to their reporting, and why not? This is not a story to be told stony-faced.

Among the first to report live, one was full of sobs and unsteady voice for a couple of days. I hardly recognized another, without makeup and face drawn tight. Other stations start reporting live, and somehow they all seem to agree that the girls should be sent over. They look back from the screen ashen-faced.

As the days grow, the superstar reporters seemed to steady themselves. They lost that emotional pitch and started to focus on the management and logistics issues of relief. They help families find each other, inform us that tampons are need, babies are exchanging hands for money.

As weeks pass, the superstars are replaced by the second line, fresh-faced girls with that little bit of unsureness about them. Smiles start to creep in, and just tonight one reported on the state of transportation in Banda Aceh, making me feel like watching a travel feature. This is good, life is meant to go on.

Somehow, I feel better that these girls are on the job. I will remember them for their courage and grace. And I envy them the opportunity to be part of a thing bigger than themselves, where humanity is at its most naked and where God permeates every space and time.

the swamps in slingbacks, anyone?

if one trawls through the ladies' shoe section of various stores in indonesia, one might get the impression that all shoe manufacturers in indonesia have decided to specilize in open-toe slingbacks and sandals catering to 'ladies who lunch'. which doesn't make sense since a) only a handful of ladies in this country fit into that category; b) 99.8% of the indonesian sidewalks are potholed; c) 99.0% of the public transport is a hassle to get on and off; and d) 100% of the time the ground beneath our feet is either muddy (rainy season) or dusty (dry season).

i say this because every couple years i am tortured as i shop for 'sensible shoes', i.e. a pair that allows me to walk the markets of sumatra (crowded, wet), the governor's office in jayapura (posh), and the sidewalks of jakarta (life-threatening) with relative confidence. 2005 is such year, and today i'm only half done after 3 weeks (!!) of search in a city of 12 million people! that's a need of at least 12 million pairs of shoes! and i'm only half done since usually i like to find at least a couple pairs of these so that i do not have to go through this agony every year.

today i found a pair that meets the above criterion, but costing me an arm, a leg, and heart-wrenching guilt. in good years, i find reasonably priced models. in bad years, and i can tell this one is gonna be one such year, i'll spend equivalent to a month's groceries for an average indonesia family, for something i trod the dirt with. then to alleviate the guilt i'll cut down on haircuts, lunches, soap. soap!

i should just hoard a few pairs of the same model to minimize my agony in the future, but always i feel that something better (i.e. cheaper) will turn up (usually not, but hey, we are a pain-inflicting species).

why aren't these shoes being made in droves? am i the only one needing these shoes? is there something wrong with me? the answer, my friend, is lying in the potholes...

country music, yeee-ha!

i started paying attention to american country music while on a project in AK. all the other assistants were all-american girls. well, not quite true actually since they're doing real amazing stuff w/ whales and algae in AK...but anyway they kept the radio hammering these country stuff and hummed to them, so what can i do except blend in (yeah i do this real well). but then i actually love the stuff! of course, i was weaned on 'modern' country first, but now i'm getting the hang of bluegrass, though still the recent type like what's on the soundtrack of "o brother, where art thou?" or what the dixie chicks did on 'home' (girls, you're right about bush and don't let other people tell you otherwise).

why? because when it comes to lyrics, pop and jazz and all the others ain't got no soul compared to country stuff! in country music you hear about a soldier being rescued from a car wreck by a ghost; about a guy contributing money for a pair of shoes for a lady to wear to the grave, and about driving lessons with daddy. often corny, sometimes surprising, but always interesting, they make you want to get the words right and sing along!

out here in asia we only hear country girls like shania, faith and leanne. but what a lot of people don't know is that some of their favorite pop songs began life as a country tune ("i swear, by the moon and the stars in the sky.."; "i hope you daaaaaance...."). those country musicians are such sensitive souls.

but hang on before you post that comment: i abhore those country stuff on our local tv! it's got too much of the 'bring the cows home' spirit. and what's with the get-up?

sherlock holmes for our time

when i was younger, i LOVED detective novels. it's all i read, from enid blyton, nancy drew to the hardy boys, then agatha christie, hercule poirot, and the ultimate: sherlock holmes! a few weeks ago i'd purchased a set of paperbacks containing the complete works of sir arthur on sherlock, and have been re-reading them slowly, enjoying every delicious morsel of clues. how i'd love to be watson--not a dull moment w/ holmes (which is why perhaps he left his wife and moved back with him, but that's another matter).

how useful would holmes be in these times! why, i don't imagine he'll take any time at all concluding who's killed munir, a human rights activist in indonesia. nor would the shooting of a waiter (allegedly by a rich spoilt schwein of a corruptor's son) be a challenge for him. from tracing poison, estimating the trajectory of a bullet, deciphering footprints, a few days was enough for holmes to set things right. free the innocent and put perpetrators behind bars!

are there no modern-day (hah!) version of sherlock, or have we dumbed-down in the meanwhile? if more than a hundred years ago tracing poisons can be done, and they ain't put a man on the moon yet, why should the 'authorities' have difficulties doing the same in this day and age? hell, i say some people need to be sacked!

intro

i was never a blogger, until this week. acoke inspired me with his musings. the process to create one's blogspot is just too easy, so here goes.

i wanted 'graycells.blogspot.com', but it wasn't allowed. thus frayedcells--fantarara's graycells.

this reminds me of the time i finally got on the friendster bandwagon after for years ignoring the hype--another friend introduced me to it. it's pretty fun, especially for the timid voyeur in you, but of course rather pointless.

so this is what i've learned about me: it takes my solemn friends (read: geeks) to convince me of the benefits of some of this internet-related publicity of oneself.

so, let's see where my public musings get me...