Hot, Food, Cook

Generasi Mami saya mungkin tidak pernah membayangkan seorang perempuan, cantik, seksi, mungkin pintar, seperti saya Farah Quinn bisa menjadi presenter acara masak-memasak di tivi. Sejak munculnya stasiun tivi swasta di Indonesia, presenter acara masak-memasak yang punya tugas untuk mengajari ibu-ibu di rumah memasak biasanya berbentuk seorang ibu-ibu yang -maaf- agak overweight dan dari cara megang sendok aja sudah kelihatan dia tukang masak andal. Lalu setelah era ibu-ibu itu, muncul presenter masak berbentuk laki-laki berotot dan berjari lihai yang selalu menyapa pemirsa dengan kenes, "Halooo, ibu-ibu..." seakan-akan hanya ibu-ibu saja yang menonton acaranya. Saya kan juga nonton dan saya bukan ibu-ibu. Waktu itu.

Setelah presenter macam Farah Quinn muncul di layar tivi, berbondong-bondong orang mulai manteng di depan tivi hanya untuk melihat si Farah muncul.
Yang seumur si Mami biasanya mengomentari gaya grogi Farah saat memotong cabe atau mengaduk adonan sehingga menimbulkan prasangka: "Bisa masak beneran gak sih? Kok megang pisaunya takut-takut gitu?"
Yang seumur saya ikut nonton juga sambil komentar soal penampilan makanan yang seringkali tidak aduhai menggemaskan sambil berbaik sangka dengan berkomentar itu adalah kesalahan cameraman-nya atau malah cameranya yang tidak food-friendly.
Yang laki-laki pun ikut nonton tentu sambil berkomentar soal-soal lain yang tidak ada hubungannya dengan makanan.
Acara masak-memasak di tivi bukan lagi jadi acara tempelan sejak kehadiran celebrity chef itu.

Menurut saya, kondisi seperti itu sih sah-sah saja. Kalau saya dan para perempuan lain menggemari penampilan Jamie Oliver the Naked Chef yang menurut saya seksi saat memasak beserta penampilan masakan Jamie, kenapa para laki-laki tidak boleh menggemari Farah Quinn? Seperti para laki-laki itu, saya toh juga tidak perduli pada tujuan utama acara tersebut: supaya bisa memasak. Hitung-hitung hiburan. Daripada menonton acara masak yang tukang masaknya wajib pakai kostum sesuai negara asal masakannya? Apa enggak lebih konyol?

Yang saya kuatirkan sebenarnya adalah sifat latah orang-orang tivi di Indonesia. Saya curiga setelah Farah Quinn akan ada acara masak lain yang tukang masaknya asal perempuan, asal cakep, asal seksi, dan asal masak. Atau, lebih parah lagi, malah mungkin yang akan muncul adalah sosok perempuan cakep seksi ngetop yang enggak bisa masak sama sekali lalu disuruh untuk mejeng di sebelah tukang masak sebenarnya. Kalau suatu saat saya masuk kategori cakep, seksi, ngetop lalu muncul di tivi untuk jadi presenter tempelan acara masak seperti itu, tolong sodorkan postingan ini sama saya ya.

Selain soal latah-melatah, saya juga melihat fenomena lain di jagat acara masak-memasak, yaitu pengkotak-kotakan umat. Umat apa? Umat penonton tivi. Sewaktu saya sedang membahas acaranya Farah Quinn, seseorang menegur saya sambil bilang, "mendingan nonton acara masaknya Dapur Aisyah aja. Setting-an dia itu untuk keluarga, ada bapaknya, ada anaknya dua." Langsung illfeel

Saya kok enggak melihat memasak itu ada hubungannya dengan status KTP seseorang ya? Kalau single dan cosmo-minded, nonton Farah. Kalau family-oriented, nonton Dapur Aisyah. Gitu? Do convince me.

Acara masak-memasak yang saya gemari di tivi itu sendiri adalah acara yang menggabungkan teknik memasak dan penampilan masakan. Tekniknya harus luar biasa. Cara masukin cabe ke penggorengan harus beda sama cara orang biasa saya. Penampilan masakannya juga harus membuat air liur tumpah. Lah kan lewat layar tivi! Karena harum masakannya tidak bisa terasa, ya penampilan masakannya yang harus menggairahkan. Acara-acara masak favorit saya seperti Nigella Express yang memberikan tip dan teknik cara memasak makanan saat kepepet (seperti baru bangun tidur sementara anak-anak sudah minta makan), French Food at Home-nya Laura Calder yang memperlihatkan betapa memasak itu menyenangkan (speak for yourself, kata saya selalu), dan tentu saja Jamie Oliver yang teknik tangan belepotannya malah membuatnya terlihat seksi dan sedap. Saya paling tidak suka melihat acara masak yang presenternya kebanyakan ngomong, atau yang presenternya pakai kostum, atau yang presenternya pakai kostum lalu banyak omong...

Mengingat masakan Indonesia sangat beragam dan uenak-uenak, saya seringkali mengharapkan acara masak di stasiun-stasiun tivi negeri ini bisa sekelas Nigella, Laura, atau Jamie. Apakah Farah Quinn atau Aisyah bisa melakukan itu? Hanya mereka yang bisa jawab. Pada akhirnya, apakah acara itu bisa sukses atau tidak, lama masa tayang atau tidak, ya kembali pada kemampuan si tukang masak. Juru kamera atau kamera secanggih apapun yang bisa membuat penampakan masakan sangat menggairahkan atau membuat presenter seseksi apapun tidak akan bisa menipu indera-indera perasa pemberian Tuhan. Kan katanya cinta itu datangnya dari perut, bukan dari mata. *sambil mikir betapa berbahayanya kalimat itu bila diketahui Papap*

catatan:
-Foto Farah Quinn dari sini dan foto Jamie dari sini.

-Khatam menonton acara memasak bukan berarti anda akan langsung bisa memasak. Korelasi logis seperti itu sayang sekali tidak terjadi di dunia ini. Entah di dunia lain.

YTIE series: 4) Demolition Man

"Even by your standard, it's too harsh coming from you."

A couple of late afternoons ago a good friend of mine coming to my room and scolded me.
"I don't care how busy you are, right now you just have to listen to me!"
I looked up from the pile of paper on my table and the blank microsoft word on my monitor to comprehend him. At that time I just got back from business things I had to take care from morning and was finally able to sit my butt on my chair for less than ten minutes.
He must have seen my face because he then lowered down his tone when he made me listen to his long speech. When he finished, the only thing that could come out of my brain... and then my mouth was...
"What on earth are you talking about?"

There was this pause between us and then he finally realized I really honestly didn't know what he was talking about.
A couple of days ago, I wrote something for people. A message I thought conveying my point of view clearly. Clearly as in logically, unbiased-ly, a matter-of-factly, to-the-point-ly.
It turned out, for him, the message also contained the adjective: Harsh.
So, there is this guy, who has a personality trait as sweet as a candy even when he is truly mad, explained to me the definition of harsh.
"I was not being harsh." I said trying to show some human expressions.
"I didn't intend to hurt anyone's feeling."I explained.
"I didn't even feel anything when I wrote that." I confessed.
"It was just all... fact!"

"And I am so sorry that people can actually feel something other than what was stated."

He looked at me with that understanding face belonging to a man far older than he was and it made me remember one particular day when he was intensely raging against somebody. After his burst, I practically laughed in front of his face. I told him his anger was too sweet by my standard. Since then, he labeled me as not human for not being capable of showing some compassionate feelings. He stays being friend, good friend, to me, though.

This is not the first time people misunderstand me as being less human because I seem to have a problem of using my tone and choosing my words. My Javanese mother must have realized how un-Javanese I have become but then she couldn't do anything about it anymore. I guess I must have been born without that particular button containing with -particularly- sweetness. On some rare occasions -meetings, usually- where I use more logics and fewer empathy, I can actually feel that people sigh at my matter-of-fact explanations. Not many people like why most of the time I prefer to be logical than sweet.

Then somehow, along the years, the label sticks on me wherever I walk in the office.

Emotionally incapable of feelings.

My bad, I usually ignore the label and the image it causes. I am not Miss Universe so I'm not in for the good-image competition.

Another friend of mine once observed me like a psychologist observing a mental patient. She told me I must have chosen to be plain cold to people because it was easier to do. She said being mean is easier than being nice. I simply laughed at her at that time while making a mental note that I'd better stay away from her for the rest of her life. For her own sake. Because she said it was easier for me to be mean, if you can guess what I mean.

Well, if this can be a consolation for you, guys, it's not at all easier for me to be more direct than sweet. But being that way enables me to see things clearly in their correct proportion. I thought the world needed some balanced proportion, so correct me if I am wrong. It's not, never, about which one is easier and which one is not.

I'm a walking nightmare, an arsenal of doom

I kill conversation as I walk into the room
I'm a three line whip, I'm the sort of thing they ban
I'm a walking disaster, I'm a demolition man
Demolition, demolition
Demolition, demolition

-Sting, Demolition Man-

Ps to you: And I was not being harsh. Harsh is something that you do because you mean it. You'll know when I do mean it. Don't you always? *smile*

Bunga Bulan Desember (Flower of December)

Been couple of days when I spotted a new flower collection at some street-vendor-ish plant nursery shop on the way home from work. It's Bunga Bulan December (Flower of December is the literal translation). I'm not sure its latin name or its official name. It's been years since I last spotted the flower let alone finding it at some nursery shop.

The sight of the flower suddenly brought memories back. It was on one of those rainy days when I asked my Dad about one red flower blooming in our garden. I was sitting behind a glass window watching the rain falling in our garden. It must have been some experience because I can still smell the rain, the wet soil, and I can still picture the wet green leaves and the shape of a red needle-like flower blooming. It's like taking a picture and saving it forever in my head. The only problem is remembering the picture gives me a feeling of longing for the past.

Seeing Bunga Bulan Desember reminds me of my childhood house that I have left but still miss. That house has too many memories -good and bad- that sometimes it's just painful to reminisce. A few years back, whenever I missed the house so much, I would have made an effort to drive past the house slowly. I never had the guts to stop in front of the house, though. I cannot imagine what the recent owners would feel when they see me. I stopped driving past the house after a couple of times. Not because the owners spotted me, but because the painful feelings grew stronger everytime I saw the house and its garden. It was not the house I left some years ago. I couldn't recognize the house and the garden anymore although the building stayed the same and the garden was there. There were just no green, no fresh leaves, no grass, no flowers. It was just bare and brown. I was broken-hearted. The past indeed belongs to the past.

The picture is taken from here and belongs to Januartha.

YTIE series: 3) Blogging Before Your Bosses

The internet connection seemed friendly tonight. I used it wisely to open my 4-year-old google reader that I had abandoned and forgotten (the password) for 3 years. Surprise, surprise, I found the blogs I used to visit a long time ago when I could open a site in a blink.

One of those old blogs I used to visit is the wannabegirl. I used to love her pictures and smile at her words. Then tonight I read her post: blogging under pressure. And I felt relieved knowing that I am not alone.

Blogging used to be easy when I knew that only strangers read this crap. Now I’m always worried I’d offend anyone I know if I spoke my mind. -wannabegirl-

Months ago, one of my superiors approached me in a gathering. I rarely talked to him at the office besides we didn't share the same office building. He came to me and said those black-magic words, "You have a very nice blog."

Instead of feeling proud, I felt so discombobulated. Since then, I have been worried too much every time I want to blog about my office life. Crap! Why is it when the office cannot provide you with stress-related insurance, they kill your blogging mood? It's just not fair.

But, enough is enough. I refuse to be intimidated by rank or position or connection or politically correct blogging topics. Starting from today, I will blog selfishly, emotionally (if I have to), ignorantly, mindlessly! And you (pointing my finger to him)! Go get yourself another blogger to mood-kill!

Biar Kuganti Dulu Kacamataku

Wajah teman lama saya dalam bingkai foto muncul di layar komputer beberapa bulan yang lalu. Sejak itu setiap hari saya selalu ditemani wajahnya tak peduli apakah saya sedang ingin ditemani atau tidak.

Hari ini dia berpose seperti ini. Hari lain posenya berbeda.

Hari ini dia tersenyum di Jakarta. Hari lain dia tersenyum di Singapura.

Hari ini dia menjadi penghuni dunia dugem. Hari lain dia menjadi penghuni ruangan licin seorang eksekutif.

Hari ini dia adalah seorang perempuan single yang gembira. Hari lain dia menjadi perempuan keibuan dengan seorang anak lucu di sebelahnya.

Bersama dirinya saya mengelana dari acara ke acara, dari kota ke kota, dari mood ke mood, melalui bingkai foto.

Sayangnya, saya tak pernah sempat membuka album fotonya yang sepertinya lengkap mengingat jumlahnya sudah ratusan.

Atau mungkin saya tidak berani membukanya.

Perempuan dalam ratusan foto itu seperti bukan orang yang saya kenal bertahun-tahun lalu.

Dalam kekaguman saya akan keceriaan tawanya di foto, kesuksesan penampilannya di foto, keanggunan gayanya di foto, saya merasa ditarik menjauh darinya. Atau dia menjauh dari saya. Saya tidak tahu. Dan saya sedih.

Malam ini saya melihat wajahnya lagi. Lengkap dengan dandanan dan rasa percaya diri yang tidak pernah saya kenal sebelumnya. Tiba-tiba perasaan itu hadir lagi. Dia menjadi sesuatu yang asing. I just cannot see the person I knew a long time ago.

No. Wait.

Biar saya balik dulu keadaannya.

Bertahun-tahun lewat dan pada satu hari wajah saya muncul di layar komputernya.

Lalu dia melihat saya lewat bingkai foto-foto.

Hari ini saya di Jepang. Hari lain saya di Bandung.

Hari ini saya memeluk Hikari. Hari lain saya memeluk Keanu.

Hari ini saya tertawa tergelak. Hari lain saya bergeming mencoba serius.

Hari ini saya berkaos. Hari lain saya berbatik resmi.

Apakah dia masih mengenali saya?

Bertahun-tahun lewat. Saya harus mengganti kacamata saat saya melihat wajahnya nanti.

YTIE series: 2) Find a Different Angle

Beberapa bulan ini saya lagi punya mainan baru. Saya dan 3 manusia kurang kerjaan lain sedang menggarap sebuah blog komunitas bersama. Komunitas apa? Komunitas pendidik(an). Siapa anggotanya? Rencananya guru-guru. Rencananya.... karena sampai sekarang anggotanya baru kita berempat hehehe...

Bikin mainan bareng guru ternyata njelimet: detail-oriented, visual-auditory-kinesthetic styles jadi satu, apa-apa dipikirin, doyan mendebat, setiap kalimat dikupas kalo perlu dicari referensi di kamus, senangnya voting, dsb, dsb. Hal terakhir di permainan ini yang bikin pusing-pusing-gokil adalah saat harus merancang blognya. Astagaaaaaahhhhh.... si Daff sempat-sempatnya menggambar rancangan itu di kertas! Pake pensil warna segala!

Nah, soal warna di kertas warna itu yang akhirnya jadi pusing si perancang desain blognya karena kami mau warnanya MARUN, bukan PINK, bukan MERAH, tapi MARUN! Blog gak jadi-jadi karena warna marun yang dimaui oleh umat gak pas melulu. Sampai akhirnya saya menemukan warna marun di Mas Wiki. Setelah berhasil menemukan berbagai shade dari marun, saya segera mengirim email URGENT ke 3 orang kurang kerjaan tadi. Saya minta mereka memilih marun yang mana yang mereka suka. Hasil email urgent itu? Gak ada yang jawab!

Satu jam lewat lalu teman saya yang paling rajin, si Daff, menelpon. Pesan Daff singkat: gue ngikut pilihan elu aja deh. Hayaaaahhh...

Lalu, jam 4 lewat, waktunya pulang kantor, satu makhluk lagi nongol. Si Je datang melongok ke ruangan saya yang langsung saya gebrak-gebrak.
"Lo milih warna marun yang manaaaaaa?"
Setelah memberikan alasan sana sini yang jarang bermutu, Je akhirnya mau juga mengecek warna itu di layar komputer saya.
Layar komputer saya itu berada di sisi kiri meja saya dan Je duduk di seberang meja. Jadilah si Je melototi layar hanya dari sisi kanannya.
Dia pun berkomentar, "Yang nomor 3 bagus."
Yang saya jawab dengan semprotan, "Hah? Pink begitu? Itu pinkkkkkk!"
Dia balik nanya, "Emang elu yang mana?"
"Yang nomor 6."
"Kok nomor 6 sih? Emang itu marun?"
"Ya marun lah dibanding nomor 3!"
"Itu enggak marun lagi!"
"Marun!"
"Itu biru!"
"Biru darimana?! Lo buta warna kali ye?"

Setelah beberapa menit saling menghina, Je akhirnya mau bangun dari kursi, berjalan menghampiri sisi saya duduk, dan mengusir saya mentah-mentah. "Awas lo!"
Sampai di depan layar komputer, dia ketawa ngakak.
"He, elu liat deh dari tempat gue duduk tadi. Warnanya biru, tau!"
Saya pun berjalan ke tempat dia tadi duduk. Dan ternyata saya juga menemukan deretan warna yang jauh berbeda dengan yang saya lihat bila saya duduk langsung menghadap ke layar.

Pesan moral saya kali ini adalah coba lah untuk mengangkat pantat anda dari tempat duduk nyaman yang sedang anda duduki dan berjalan lah ke sisi lain yang berbeda. Kadang-kadang, hanya dengan melihat sesuatu dari sisi yang berbeda, satu hal bisa terlihat berbeda pula. It's not easy to make yourself leave your comfort chair, but it's worth the truth. Untung saja si Je mau berdiri dan mencari tahu dari sisi yang berbeda. Kalau enggak, bisa-bisa kami menghabiskan hari ini dengan saling menghina tanpa dia tahu bahwa saya ternyata yang benar hahahaha....

You Think It's Easy Series: (1) The Office-lit of Facebook

I was not aware at first why I didn't have the names of my colleagues in my facebook's friends list. Until a guy asked me about my facebook's name.
He said he had browsed my name without success. He had tried so many different combinations yet he had no luck finding my name. Of course. He didn't know my husband's name, that's why.
He asked me why I used my husband's name because he always assumed I was that kind of woman who belonged to a feminist group and refused to use the husband's name. I saved him from details and saved myself the energy and time for explaining that I didn't belong to a feminist group (or any group) because I hardly had time to kopdar and I didn't really like to use my husband's name because of the inconveniences of changing a lot of documents.
Anyway, he did asked again why I used my husband's name for my facebook's name and why I didn't have people from the office to be in my friends' list.

I got in touch with facebook when I was in Japan a few years back. The people who introduced me to facebook were my husband's friends who never knew my real name. Hikari and I were called by Papap's name all the time. Hardian san, Hardian san! Imagine if the three of us were present at one occassion!
Second question, my friend asked, why I didn't invite my friends from the office?!
I wanted to say it was none of his business but he was kind of a nice person so I held back the words. But eventually I did say that I saw no reason to add people I meet everyday into my facebook. Isn't that why facebook was created? To connect long-lost friends or far-away acquintances?
Anyway, again, I eventually did add some colleageus in my facebook. I also accept invitations even from those I never really talk to at the office. How silly. One thing I never do is removing someone from my friends list.

As soon as my facebook's name went public, more and more friends add me. A long-lost friend from school asked me to participate in our class reunion. When the date was agreed among my school friends, I realized I couldn't make it. My friend persuaded me. She tried hard to make me come. She even said, "Don't you miss us?"
Well...
I was about to answer, "Do you really want to know the answer?"

Other than those moments, everything in my facebook life seemed fine. I talked to people, shared status, observed their life, saw their photos, etcetera. My very-big boss even invited me to be his petsociety friend. Everything was fine. Was. Until a year ago.

I found out I was removed from my friend's list. She had a disagreement with me in the office and then removed me -of course without me knowing it until gossips spread. Before removing me, this person badmouthed the office in her status and notes. All of these I never even once responded because I thought it was inappropriate to say things about our own office in front of strangers. Then she faded away from my facebook world and thankfully from my life.
Then life turned out normal again in facebook. Not for so long, though.

A few months ago, there was this incident in the office. I was not involved but my friends from the same corps were. The incident became really ugly in and outside the office. Some disatisfied people badmouthed my friends in facebook and suddenly everybody who is somebody knows about the incident. I regretted how the incident had developed but again I didn't say a word. Responding to the endless threads seemed illogical to me. It only brought negativity to my real world. I was just sorry how some people didn't realize that the two worlds should be separated.

The burning incident seemed to cool down a bit as time went by. Or so I thought.
A few weeks ago there was another incident at the office (and I wonder why I still stay...). A disatisfied colleague vent out her anger in the office. When she didn't get the attention she desperately wanted, she wrote things in her status. Some people responded to her status, even those who didn't understand the issue at all!
I was confronted with a difficult decision: to respond or not to respond. I knew one of the people she wanted to aim at was me. She did mention my name twice in a room full of people after all. The words were formed in my head and I was just waiting for the trip to arrive home and then sit in front of the computer and typed the words. Words are my friends and facts are on my side, who is she to challenge me? The trip home suddenly felt very long. I couldn't wait to right the wrongs.

Finally I arrived home. Totally irritated.
The door opened and Hikari ran to me excitedly. He hugged me and took my hand inside the house. He showed me a new book from school and asked me to read it. After reading it for him for a few minutes, he kissed me and said he loved me. That time my head became very clear and my heart became very light. Who am I to decide how people should act?

That night I sat down in front of the computer light-hearted. The words in my friend's status were still burning and the comment space seemed inviting. It's not easy to keep quiet and refrain myself from defending myself. Especially if you know you do no wrong. It's not easy. But I did it anyway. Or, in this case, I didn't do it anyway.

It was suddenly very clear to my eyes the thin line between my real world and my facebook world. It is also clear to me that many people don't realize that. We are disatisfied with our own office and we wrote all of those negativities in our status. Everybody who is nobody to the office read our status. What for?

It's not easy to not get involved in the office-lit of facebook. It's not impossible, either.

Die Like Everyone Else

How difficult is it to handle 5000 cows in your farm?
How difficult is it to herd the 5000 cows in a vast land to grass?
How difficult is it to sit on the back of a jumping horse in a rodeo?

It turns out it is not as difficult as trying to wear pants with your koteka on.

I just watched a new program called Meet the Natives: USA aired at the National Geographic channel. From the program ad, I'm sure everyone could imagine how interesting this program is. Five tribespeople from Tanna island in South Pacific (Vanuatu) are sent to the USA to taste the life in that superpower country (they claim). I was laughing right from the start of the program to the end. What else should I have reacted when those five people (two of them are the village chief and the medicine man) got confused on how to wear clothes. When they had to wear the pants, they complained because they couldn't insert their koteka-like equipment to the pants. I'm sure you'd have a very difficult time doing it too! Oh, and don't think of taking it off!

These five Tanna men went to Montana first to live with a family of 5. The family own a big land for their 5000 cows. The Tanna men called them Cowboy people.
First, the Tanna men asked, "why do you want to keep 5000 cows for yourself?"
Second, they asked, "why don't you let the cows eat fresh grass instead?"
After that, they asked, "why don't they keep other animals too? Like chickens, or pigs, or goats?"
Then, they asked, "why do you insert drugs (vitamin) to the cows and their food? Won't that make the meat unhealthy to eat?"
On and on they asked questions unthinkable to the farm owner.

When they were given cigarettes to smoke, they asked if it is good to smoke.
The man said it was probably not. He already had cancer once and got chemotherapy for a year.
The Tanna men stared at the lighted cigarette in their hand with worries and incomprehension on their face.
"Why do you keep smoking, then?"
Good question left unanswered.

One Tanna-man asked his chief whether it is better to keep one kind of animals instead of some like what they do in their village.
The chief, a man with no formal education only wisdom, answered the village don't need too many. They should only keep what they need. And they don't need many.

After 5 days in Montana, it was their time to go. The chief was standing at the fence of the big farm looking at the cows and everything.
He said, "A man with a lot of cows, a big land, and a lot of money should now find out the way to live forever. It is such a shame to have a lot of cows, a great farm, and a thick wallet if he dies like everyone else."

Die Like Everyone Else

Forget about God, heaven, or hell. Everybody must die one day. Presidents, kings, queens, celebrities, the riches, and the poors. There is no exception.
We can have all the money in the world, yet we still have to die someday.
We can be in the list of 100 beautiful people in the world for 10 consecutive years, still we will find our heart stop beating someday.
We can be the Nobel-prize-winning head of state, but then we cannot make a deal with the death to make you an exception.

So, by the end of the day, after everything is said and done, we are trully insignificant except for our good deeds.

photo: http://www.ngcasia.com/

Aren't you glad we are not Japanese?

Rame-rame para pengurus negeri belum selesai juga. Bukannya menonton dengan seksama, saya memilih tidur. Pesimistis? Trauma? Apatis?
Gak. Capek aja setelah seharian kerja jujur.

Kalau saya boleh menggunakan gaya saya dalam mengatasi keruwetan negeri ini, saya mungkin akan menghabiskan satu generasi untuk memunculkan pembaharuan. Mirip-mirip dengan teknik menghilangkan bekas jerawat dan bolong-bolong di wajah lah. Kan harus dikelupas dulu kulit paling luar wajah kita itu supaya bisa mendapatkan kulit wajah baru yang segar, muda, dan sehalus pantat bayi. Caranya bisa dengan diolesi obat kimia yang ampuh sekelas air keras atau disinari laser. Walaupun hal ini juga tergantung dari seberapa tebal lapisan kulit wajah kita, seperti juga tergantung dari seberapa tebal lapisan generasi negeri ini yang bopeng-bopeng.

Bila mengelupaskan satu generasi terlalu sadis, mungkin bisa melakukan seppuku? Bunuh diri model Jepang yang caranya adalah dengan menyayat perut sampai usus terburai lalu mati? Mungkin karena Jepang hanya menjajah negeri ini sesingkat 3.5 tahun, mati gaya usus terburai tidak menjadi tren bagi para pengurus negeri ini. Tapi, coba bayangkan apa yang terjadi seandainya seppuku menjadi tradisi di negeri ini juga...
1. Hari-hari belakangan jumlah orang bunuh diri gaya usus terburai mendadak meningkat tajam.
2. Rumah sakit -terutama bagian kamar mayatnya- penuh.
3. Polisi kehabisan tenaga untuk menyidik.
4. Petugas medis dan ambulan kehabisan napas mengambil pelaku bunuh diri dari tempat kejadian ke rumah sakit.
5. Lokasi-lokasi pemakaman tertentu padat manusia.
6. Karena lokasi-lokasi tertentu mendadak padat, macet muncul dimana-mana.
7. Pengurus negeri yang tersisa harus ngelayat kesana kemari.
8. Karena pengurus negeri yang tersisa harus ngelayat, negeri yang diurus mereka pun terbengkalai.
9. Karena negeri terbengkalai, rakyat miskin bertambah banyak.
10. Karena banyak yang mati bunuh diri, para pemuka agama ramai-ramai mengutuk mati gaya baru ini.
11. Karena pemuka agama mulai main kutuk-mengutuk, rakyat kesal dan melakukan demo.
12. Ketika rakyat kesal, fesbuk penuh dengan acara dukung mendukung.
13. Jumlah dukung mendukung di fesbuk menjadi meningkat membuat media massa belingsatan karena bad news is good news.
14. Media massa keranjingan menayangkan urusan bunuh diri sampai urusan dukung mendukung di fesbuk.
15. Karena media massa keranjingan menayangkan urusan-urusan yang dimulai dari para pengurus negeri, film kesayangan saya CSI tidak ditayangkan sampai waktu yang tidak ditentukan.

*mikir*

Ganti teknik lain aja ya?

Bawa Pertemananmu ke Tempat Lain Saja

Pernah dengar iklan kampanye bayar pajak? Yang bunyinya kira-kira begini...

"Tok tok tok..."
"Hai, Wan!" (nama disamarkan)
"Hai, Ton!"
"Wah, sudah lama kita tidak berjumpa ya?"
"Iya. Gimana kabarmu, Ton?"
"Aaah, ini loh. Perusahaanku ditagih pajaknya."
"Ooooh." (sambil tertawa terpaksa)
"Ternyata besar juga ya?"
Benar-benar tertawa terpaksa.
"Untung aku punya teman disini." (sepertinya pakai kedip-kedip mata) "Bantu lah aku. Jangan kuatir deh. Nanti aku kasih ehem ehem buat kamu."
"Wah. Maaf, teman. Aku tidak bisa. Aku sudah bersumpah kepada negara... bla bla bla..."
"Ah! Kamu kan temanku! Sok suci kamu!"
Gubrak! (Banting pintu)
"Ada apa, Pak? Ada apa, Pak?" (suara anak buah panik)
(Tersenyum bijak) "Tidak ada apa-apa. Hanya orang yang mencoba untuk membujuk saya berbuat yang tidak benar."
(Suara hati bicara) "Ternyata kamu yang bukan teman sejatiku. Kamu memaksaku berbuat yang tak sesuai dengan hati nurani bla bla bla..."

Basi banget, kan?
Yet, it sticks in my head like... forever.

Coba baca lagi kalimat terakhir si tokoh baik budi ini.
"Ternyata kamu bukan teman sejatiku."
Mirip dengan kalimat pada iklan anti narkoba.
"Teman sejati tidak akan membuatmu mati."
Yang sepertinya cocok juga dipakai untuk iklan anti teroris.

Saya membayangkan diri saya sebagai petugas pajak itu.
Terjepit antara kewajiban untuk berbuat jujur dan kewajiban untuk menjaga nilai pertemanan.
Saya membayangkan diri saya sebagai si korban narkoba itu.
Terjepit antara keinginan untuk lepas dari obat laknat itu dan keinginan untuk menyenangkan teman.
Karena saya bukan petugas pajak dan bukan korban narkoba, dan bukan pula petugas pajak yang terkena narkoba, saya mudah sekali bilang, "ya, jangan mau berteman dengan dia! Teman kok menjerumuskan begitu!"
Tapi kalau anda pernah berada pada posisi dimana nilai kesetiaan anda diuji oleh teman anda dari kesediaan anda mengikuti apa mau si teman.... ehem... ternyata tidak mudah ya.

Di luar kemasan iklan yang basi itu, saya mendapati suatu pesan bijak -yang entah sengaja atau malah tidak sengaja keluar dari iklan itu- akan nilai pertemanan.
Kamu kan temanku. Kenapa kamu tidak mau menolongku?"
"Katanya kamu kan temanku. Kok tega kamu membiarkanku begini?"
"Apa artinya kamu jadi temanku kalau kamu tidak mau mengikuti mauku?"

Dia yang berpikir temannya seharusnya mau menolong dia dengan cara mematikan hati nurani sesungguhnya tak pantas kita jadikan teman.
Seorang teman tidak akan pernah menaruh diri kita pada posisi dimana kita harus membutakan mata keadilan dan membisukan hati nurani hanya demi dirinya seorang.
Bawa pertemananmu ke tempat lain saja.