Friday, September 28, 2012

Push and Adapt


THIS PICTURE IS A LIE
pic is from fotosearch.com

We all know that waking up in the morning does NOT look like the picture above. Not in a thousand year. Trying to crawl out of the bed with one eye shut and the other covered in gunk sure does not give you a refreshed, happy face. And then you decide to creep back into the blanket. Soft. Comfortable. Going back to sleep is an unavoidable decision.

And then you are late. Haha.

Anyway, have you ever noticed that actually after crawling out of bed, we only spend five heavy-eyelid-disoriented-minutes? After those dreadful five minutes, usually we already turn fully awake. So really, all we have to do is push ourselves to get out from the bed, getting adapted to the waking world.

We tend not to do it, I know :)

Is not life like that? We do not want to leave our comfort zone and embrace changes. When I moved from Indonesia to Dubai last year, I thought I would not last. For the first few weeks, all I wanted to do is go home. Everything I did there seemed so heavy, as if I was covered in gunk. I could not even see what I would do the next day, as if my eyes were shut. I was depressed and I did not know how to survive in a country of extreme heat and harsh people.

Funny. After some time, I adapted, without really trying. I just did. Since I-am-not-sure-when, Dubai has had a place in my heart.

Now I know. Whatever I face, I'll just push myself into that new situation and I know I'll adapt in no time.

Or maybe no. Crawling back into the comfort zone looks more tempting. :D

Monday, September 24, 2012

I Was an Alien

The weirdest feeling came to me that evening when I was downtown last weekend. Sitting on a motorcycle (my husband rode it), having nothing much to do, I looked around and felt utterly strange.

How can I put it? It was like being sucked into a weird oldie movie. And a slow motion one. A motorcycle passed by and the rider sported a pair of knee-length boots. Boots in Surabaya are a rare sights, even in malls. And here was a guy with stylish boots in a shabby motorcycle.

Following him was a lady in a motorcycle with very wide boot cut jeans. It was an amusing sight, as she could be a shadow from the past.

As she passed by, the stores along the street started to catch my attention. Stalls selling dusty cheapo firework. Ancient stores with fading signs and interior full of dust. Grandpas with hooded eyes stood behind their displays, trying so hard to keep awake. Short time hotels with tacky old-fashioned lamp signs. It was as if the whole sleepy street tried so hard to keep awake, tried so hard to catch with the present.

I so wished I had a camera with me.

Crowded, but everything moved slowly. Everyone was in andante tempo, not rushing anywhere. The street tried to drag me sleepy and heavy, but I was wide awake, bewildered with the fact that I had never known such atmosphere existed in my hometown. I felt excluded. Alone. I did not belong there. I was an alien.

As soon as the street ended, suddenly I was pulled back into the present. All I wanted to do at the moment was writing down the feeling.

This post might not be useful to anyone. You can ask: So what? And I'll have no answer.

This post is to preserve my memory. Because I know: the moments pass and memories fade away. Unless we somehow preserve them.

How do you preserve things that are important to you? As for me, I want to write more. And that includes writing down my feeling on being an alien in my own hometown.