Citizens vs. Villagers

It's been quite some time since the last chance I visited Surabaya, the metropolis where I was born and grew up in. For 6 years now, I've been living in a village on the slope of Mount Welirang, where the air is clean, the water is fresh, the people live in harmony, and diseases are rare.
Sounds like Paradise?
Perhaps, yes. Especially to the eyes of those who spend their life (almost entirely) in big, crowded cities.
I didn't put too much realization into it until last week, when my Diamond Director came all the way from Jakarta to give a two-days workshop in Surabaya and I was scheduled to meet her.
(Feel free to read my experience with Nadia M. Yuniardo here.)
Since the hotel she was staying in was new, and we didn't know the exact spot (though we did get the address), Octavian and I went asking people along the streets.
I was very much taken aback as finding out the way people of this city responded to a couple of strangers' question.
"I don't know," some of them replied, without the slightest concern.
"There," a suspiciously eyeing man said. "Go there. Turn right."
"Follow that road," said another, avoiding our eyes (or was it because he was deep into other matters that his eyes were not focused?).
Very pathetic!
"What's with these people?" I wondered.
We began to feel deep pity for the Surabayan. Too much burden at work, at home, in the neighborhood, and extremely high competition in social life must have overwhelmed these people and resulted in the ever-increasing rate of stress.
I suddenly missed my village that I just left for simply a couple of hours. Oh, how the villagers always smile and speak kindly from the heart (even to strangers)! How we always greet each other as we run into each other on the roads! How life is ever so tranquil and blissful!
Without stress, without the need for competition, without air-noise-water pollution, and without fast-food restaurants, people tend to live healthier and longer. It's a treasure we won't give up for the wealth of the metropolis!
We finished our business in Surabaya as fast as we could. And, just as the sun was going down, I told my husband, "GET ME OUT OF HERE...!! THIS PLACE IS DRIVING ME NUTS...!!"

Behind the Disappearance

It's been two weeks since the last time I blogged.
My PC was lightning-struck and I couldn't get online for several days.
Finally, after some days of panic and going back-and-forth to repair the damages done, we got the motherboard and LAN card replaced with second-hand spare-parts. What counted most was to have the computer run again, though in the near future we'll need to replace the parts with new ones.
Right after fixing the PC, I ran into an advertising program that I decided to join. Thus, you might find some link-ads showing up in my blog from now on.
These links are part of a pay per click advertising program called Infolinks. Infolinks is an In Text advertising service: they take my text and create links within it. If you hover with your mouse over these double underlined links, you will see a small dialog box containing advertisement related to the text marked. You can choose to either move the mouse away and go on with your browsing, or to press on the box and go to the ad page which is relevant to the text. Click here to learn more about Infolinks Double Underline Link Ads.

Names -- and Their Significance

Hazrat Inayat Khan, the great Indian Sufi, once taught about the power of words -- and names. He said that a man will become exactly the meaning of what he's called by all his life.
Words and names have mystical powers that shape people and circumstances the way they are called. That is why ancient tribes, up to this day, consider name-giving as sacred, especially when it comes to naming newly-born babes.
Personally, I didn't actually open the dictionary of names before naming my children. Octavian and I simply mingled our names together and came up with the anagram Santika, which we settled as the new surname for our children. Then, we added Dharma for our firstborn, and Vidyaparamitha for our lastborn.
Did we know the meaning of the names?
No. We simply found them to sound nice, that's all.
That was one reckless decision, naming children after some words that we knew nothing about the meanings.
It wasn't until three years later that we looked up for the meanings in the dictionary of children names, and found out that:

Santika means peacemaker.

Santikadharma means compassionate peacemaker, while Santika Vidyaparamitha means very wise and virtuous peacemaker.

Well, I'm glad that we've named them prudently (out of sheer luck).
And hope that they'll grow up to be exactly what their names mean.

Reflection

Every now and then, at any given time of the day, we would stop in front of a mirror and check if everything's okay with our looks. Does our hair need tidying? Does our blazer remains neat? Is there any smear on our face after lunch?
A big rushing need for a mirror comes once in a while when something unexpected happens: coffee spilled on our blouse, bee sting on our nose, or water splashed on our head. In such instances, we would hurriedly run to the nearest mirror around.
What for?
To reflect and inspect the damages done, no doubt!
It is as simple as that.
Mirrors are the ultimate help we need to check out and tidy up our outlook.
Even so, people tend to be more careless when it comes to inner reflection.
Sometimes, as we go through life, there are always instances when we need to stop awhile and reflect on what we do, think, or say. It's called "introspection" (inner-inspection).
People with healthy inner-self always have time to meditate on life and introspect themselves to be better people in the days ahead.
Unfortunately, in this hustle-and-hurry world, many people have turned reckless and tend to blame circumstances instead of reflecting upon their own shortcomings.
They've got inner mirrors, alright. But they refuse to use them.
Thus, they keep on bragging about things not suiting their needs and people not helping them out. They blame life and fate for being unfair to them, yet forget to do anything to help themselves improve and so gain their goals.
These kind of folks are not going to get anywhere in life.
Do YOU feel like you're not getting anywhere?
Why don't we sit and meditate for a while. Reflect upon our inner mirror and see... are there things we need to change for the betterment of ourselves?
When you know how to change yourselves, you'll find a way to change your DESTINY!

Mount Welirang

Dear Friends,

Here's the picture of Mount Welirang that I took from opposite our house here in the village of Slepi. Very beautiful, isn't it?
The word "Welirang" in Javanese means "sulfur." Up to this day, people mine sulfur from the crate of the mountain for chemical ingredients in soaps and cosmetics.
Welirang is an active volcano, thus people mine its sulfur to prevent it from erupting. If it does, the whole resort villages located on its slope (according our tranquil environment) will surely vanish!
Such is the risk of residing on the lap of a fiery, slumbering giant.

Chacha's Last Day with Us

They were born in the woods. Their mother was a mongrel-jackal, shot dead by a ranger when they were barely a month old. The ranger took the pups, all four of them, and handed them to a friend of ours who lived in the nearby village.
The eldest and the youngest pups died, while we adopted the two remaining ones, provided them our house as shelter and gave them names: the brown one we call Chocho, and the black one we call Chacha.
Chocho grows into a handsome dog, tall and well-built, with soft, velvety coat and very sweet disposition. Chacha, on the other hand, was stunted, with coarse black coat, and since their early days we can tell that he did not possess the stamina and stoutness as his brother has. And I spotted signs of jealousy in him.
A month ago, we were given a grown-up bitch, and -- as predicted -- she became Chocho's mate instead of Chacha's. Soon, I noticed that Chacha was into some kind of depression and he began to grow ill.
Finding a vet is a very difficult matter out here in the villages. And, when we finally found one, he was diagnosed with chronic pneumonia and enlargement of the liver. I took care of him for the whole week, even feeding him with a spoon to get the food and medicine into him.
I tried all I can, but God has another plan. Just as I thought he was recovering, God took him away. I started the first day of the month with a mournful loss.
Above is the last picture of Chacha, a few hours before his death, and Sarah's only chance to hug and pet him.