Thanksgiving Nightmare in Puno, Peru

It's gone. It's gone. It's really gone.

No matter how far we looked or searched, the bitter realization that his bag is truly gone was sinking deeper and deeper. Yet, my stubborn, irrational mind refused to accept it and continued to glare at poor Peruvian souls who happened to meet their gaze with mine.

When I frantically ran outside of the small Chinese restaurant (and he quickly followed), as soon as the cool Puno night air greeted me, I knew it was too late to catch the thief that snatched his bag. It was more than 5 minutes ago, and God knows where he was. I went to the direction that's probably opposite of where the thief was heading, and started to sob tragically, angrily...no, furiously. I hate this city.

He soon caught up with me, his eyes unpleasantly surprised, still in a bit of a denial, yet they reflected stronger and much calmer soul. For a victim, he's in a much more better shape than I was. He tried to calm me down, but I wouldn't have it. How could he be so careless? To put his guard down like that and hang his beloved messenger bag on the chair, making it a very plump object to steal???

And this is after I have been guarding him for such a long time, since the morning. He wasn't feeling well, so I stayed with him almost the whole time. But my protection wasn't enough. He was careless. He wasn't feeling well. And I couldn't help but feeling like a failure. His bag, filled with valuables and more importantly, his passport got stolen during the group's Thanksgiving dinner (what an irony) in Puno, Peru.

Just less than an hour earlier, the 11-person group sauntered out to the nightlife in Puno, having decided on Chinese food dinner at a restaurant near the hotel, which the receptionist recommended. Their Lake Titikaka tour was over, the group was about to do restaurant hopping and buy some souvenirs before starting their trek back to the United States the day after.

But of course, the reality was nothing like the plan. When it was time to shell out 4 soles per person, that's when he realized his bag was no longer hanging on his chair. I looked at him very angrily, asking "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" and ran out. The rest is history.

The group hustled to help, some accompanied him to the police station to file a police report, some got information for the Indonesian and US embassies in Lima, some re-booked our flights for tomorrow from Puno to Lima, and some (tried to) be with me. But I was too angry, too disappointed, too f*&$(d up for any of these kind souls to reach me. From the beginning of our trip, I had warned him to be on guard at all times, and if anything happened to that bag, that's the worst possible scenario that had to be avoided as much as possible. Well, God has a different plan, apparently. And I was none too pleased about it.

The living Thanksgiving nightmare in Puno continued when my mind helpfully reminded me of my own theft incident during my train ride from Roma to Firenze, Italy. Thank you, my mind, for making the wound deeper, my mind more unstable. Thanks very much.

Shortly after midnight, the group was somewhat satiated with some Cusquena beer and pizzas some brought back to the hotel. He got his police report, back-up documents, embassy information, and both of our flights for the day after were adjusted. Such great companions, wonderful friends....but with my current state of mind, I could only be ungrateful. The night wind grew stronger, and it's close to impossible to recover his bag. We both went to sleep after I threw some very angry, highly frustrated screams and defiant sobs, and he could only make me promise that tomorrow we'll see things through.

The Day After Thanksgiving
We rode a taxi from Puno to Juliaca to catch the earliest flight to Lima. Along the way, I glanced through all the people we passed by, vainly trying to catch a glimpse of his bag. The ride ended sooner than I expected, and we saw a group of police force in front of the small airport. Juliaca was tense for the past few days, what with the violent protest that also resulted in some angry people throwing rocks to our tour bus just 2 days prior. His calls to the US embassy before we depart bore little results; the operator just sounded nonchalant and not at all concerned with our emergency situation. Our flight to Lima also featured some breath-taking views of Cusco valleys from above, but I was much too deep in sorrow that refrained me from taking any pictures.

Arriving in Lima and getting a taxi that would take us to the Indonesian Embassy proved to be a minor challenge, mainly because my resolve to be strong and positive was so easily crumbled. The even from the night before kept replaying in my head, and I was so fed up and frustrated with the whole situation. Nevertheless, the taxi we ended up with had proven to be really helpful in the end; I guess he took pity on us after seeing me in the brink of bursting into tears at any given moment.

The Indonesian Embassy representatives were supposedly going to lunch at that hour, but after hearing our case (and our restless begging), they postponed their lunch plans and went back inside to help. Within an hour, he got a new passport. After wishing us good luck and helping us hail a new taxi to get us to the US Embassy, the Indonesian Embassy representatives sent us on our way, not forgetting to say, "Welcome to Lima, Peru".

All of that rushing apparently meant little for the US Embassy. We talked with two different people; the first one a man, later he brought out a lady to talk with us. But the message was the same; it's impossible for them to help him get a new visa since there's nobody left to interview him and the system was already shut down for the day. No matter how much we argued and asked for help to settle matters on that same day so we could all go back together to the US that night, it was not meant to be. He was told to come back on Monday. We both left dejectedly, hesitant of his uncertain future.

Hotels around the US Embassy was expensive, but thankfully he found a place relatively nearby (30-minute walking distance from the US Embassy) at Surco neighborhood from Bookings.com. We walked there, and it was apparently a big, gated house. Upon arriving, the first thing we were told was that it was a mistake we could booked via Bookings.com, because they did not have any rooms left. Nevertheless, the lady owner welcomed us in so that we could look for a new place for him to stay with her laptop.

It was a really nice house with such tasteful Peruvian touches. I immediately felt at ease in the living room, with the big sofas with the fireplace, surrounded with religious paintings and statues. I thought that it's a shame he could not stay in this place...it looked so cozy and quiet, and he would be able to calm down and gather himself quietly.

The internet was slow, and after 10 - 15 minutes, the search for another place for him to stay was getting stagnant. The lady's English was adequate, but I caught that sometimes she did not get the right understanding at the first try. So I said that only he's looking for a place to stay; I was to go on my scheduled flight back to the US. Then her eyes widen in understanding, he smiled at him and asked his name. When "Christian" came out from his lips, I knew right there and then that he got a place to stay. Divine intervention; thanks be to God.

I felt like a considerable burden was lifted off of my shoulders when I knew he got a nice place to rest for the next several days. The lady was really kind, the house was big, really nice, cozy, and well-kept, and the inhabitants (including a dog, a cat, and a parrot) were very well-behaved and cute. Later on, he found out the lady and her husband also has a male peacock, a bee colony (for harvesting honey), and a hen (for eggs).

When we rode a taxi from the "hotel" to Lima airport to reunite with the rest of the group that night, the drive brought me back to Jakarta traffic 15 - 20 years ago. Interestingly enough, it also had me thinking of Jakarta traffic that could've been. Lots of crazy driving, streets littered with mototaxis (or bajaj in Indonesia), minibuses (mikrolet), lots of people, however there were not that many motorcycles, plus the gas emission was cleaner. It was a nostalgic ride that lulled my mind more at ease.

That night, the group minus him went back to the United States. I still felt upset that he was not by my side, however I felt better knowing he got a nice place to stay. I know at the back of my mind that he would be fine, that he would be back with me shortly, but a remnant of my restless, frustrated mind kept me worrying non-stop. When he disappeared from Lima airport's exit doors, I was not really sure what to think.

The Aftermath
The rest of the group made it safely back to San Francisco on the following day, but the mental adventure hasn't ended for me. For his part, he started his own mini-adventure in Lima for 2 days while waiting to come back to the US Embassy on Monday. He saw a lot of things, observed historical places in Lima that almost got me jealous, if not for the fact that his fate for going back to the US was still pretty much up in the air.

I could not sleep, breath, or eat properly during those two days. We talked over the phone several times, but it did little to improve my fatigue. On Sunday, going to church and talked to the Father and deacon helped, but a new wave of uncertainty and depression hit me later that night. I was readying myself to face worse situations.

On Monday morning at 7 am, I checked my phone and was rushed with a state of panic. There was no update coming from him. It's supposed to be 10 am in Lima right now and he should've updated his progress with the US Embassy. I was in near case of heart attack - couldn't focus, couldn't do anything, could only think of "what ifs" of things; getting more downhill due to one stupid theft happening when we were sleep deprived and weren't exactly thinking straight in justifying our actions.

Then his message came. His visa was approved. He could pick it up on Tuesday, or if possible, later that afternoon. Suddenly, my breathing function went back to normal.

He was unexpectedly helped out a great deal by the same lady we met on Friday, when we were pleading his case. She and another person escorted and assisted him through the whole process, a tremendous help since he could not speak Spanish (beyond bargaining for prices). Later that afternoon, he got his visa. The group then helped him get his original flight rescheduled and he flew back to the US that night.

When I picked him up at SFO on Tuesday morning, I knew the nightmare is now over. He's back, safe and sound...and our life will gradually return to normal.

Excited...

It's really simple and silly, really, but it's flattering nonetheless.

I found out that at least one blogger put fafafoom into her blogroll.

I also got a new very warm, uplifting comment from a student designer's mom (whose son's garment I quickly reviewed during a fashion show) on one of my fafafoom fashion show review posts. It's rather funny actually, since she's mainly commenting based on my other fafafoom post that had nothing to do with fashion show at all, but mainly about my annual April notes (that I mainly post on Facebook). So it was really nice of someone I didn't know, spreading some love like that. I'm very humbled and happy.

Plus, I just got invited as a guest to Les Runway fashion show that's going to be held in Lower East Side NYC in September. Very flattered. I really want to go especially since NYC is THE place for fashion, but I'm still unsure if I can make the trip.

Nevertheless, I'm in such good mood today :)
M

About Us

Every writer, no matter if she's a blogger, newsletter/magazine editors, or even YouTube user, know that there's a section they (kind of) need to fill in: the "About me" section.


I've been struggling to what I need to put into fafafoom's About Us page. This is an excerpt of what it says now:


" Fafafoom is about being comfortably fabulous in your own skin, discovering your artistic talents, continuously absorbing design / fashion inspirations and create your own DIY projects, and posting great fashionable finds in the Bay Area.

I share my fabulous finds or cool places all over the Bay Area, cover fashion runway shows of San Francisco’s art institutes whenever I can, share my own take on accessory designs and sewing projects, and take documentations of my personal styles and stylish inspirations gathered from friends, chic street fashion, Reality TV shows, and beautiful things scattered on the internet."

For me, it looks OK for a while. But thanks to my boss who shares this great Ted Talk video of Simon Sinek: How Great Leaders Inspire Action. And it naturally got me start thinking of fafafoom. The text above solves the question of the "what" of this blog, but not the "how" or even most importantly, the "why".

Now, you might be thinking I'm silly. It's just a stupid blog that still has less than 20K clicks (as of July 18, 2011). Yes my friend, you're absolutely right. But I plan bigger things for fafafoom. New design, multimedia features, crisper purpose. And I plan to do it myself. If anything, this is not a waste of time since doing all these will further down my marketing analysis, web design / interface and writing skills, as well as project management, to name a few. So why not?

So here's a draft of the new About Us page:

"I started fafafoom on June 2010 because I know there are people like me who are hungry for fashionable inspirations to feed in their daily life activities.

People who are working their ass off in their day job to pay the bills, and then never stop researching, learning, writing, reading, and finding new things they're into. Who have no time for TV and instead looking for new hobbies and gaining new skills such as photography and sewing. Who enjoys fabulous brand names such as Marc Jacob, Alexander Wang, or Joseph Altuzarra, but also enjoys thrifting at Goodwill or their local community thrift stores for treasures and finding pieces to deconstruct and alter themselves. Who create their own accessory pieces. Who are narcisstic enough to do a nice photo shoot with their own creations. Who enjoy gifting others their own reconstructed creations. Who enjoy local Bay Area boutiques and community centers that promote art and design. Who love fashion shows and support their local established and emerging designers.

I am one of those people, and fafafoom is my medium of sharing my inspirations.

Enjoy your time here,
Musank"

Wordy, yes. But it's getting closer to something more than just a boring About Me statement. In a process of refining this page this week. 

Have a great one,
M

After Two Years...

...Thanks to Google+, I'm ready to start Naruhodo-Ne in a whole new way.
Last year, I debuted fafafoom on WordPress and it's doing quite awesome. Seeing that blog grow little by little is very exciting for me.

So from now on, personal stories will be kept minimal (I realized that looking back, some of my stories are pretty dark; I'm not in that kind of place anymore). I'll probably still do it, but no promises.

But what's new is that there are some things I cannot share on fafafoom: my thought process. What needs to be there and what-not. The evolving design process. Some things I consider when doing certain updates. Things like that that don't fit with what fafafoom is all about. That's why now the description of Naruhodo-Ne is "my inner adventures and behind-the-scenes".

Looking forward to move forward,
Musank

Now That 2009 is Ending...

...I realize how gloomy 2009 is for me. The first 2-3 months zoomed on by, but I got one memorable point: the  Indonesian Catholics Night on February where I got to organized the events and got to sing some songs during the night.

But then April came by too quickly and one day, I got a call from my mom, brother, and future mother-in-law that my father just passed away. It was probably the fastest week I've ever experienced; called my supervisor of the emergency trip, flew back, attended to the funeral processions and my mom, and then flew back to the US. One high point in April was my birthday and we got to celebrate with friends, did some music jams and all that.

May until August came ruthlessly, and one big Indonesian-culture related event was canceled for some unclear, puzzling reasons. Meanwhile, my home country got struck with earthquakes and other problems, including the H1N1 spread outs. On the other hand, Michael Jackson died on June and I was surprised to see how sorrowful I became.

September was my boyfriend's birthday and we celebrated privately. I cooked a three-course meal (or attempted to) for him. On the same month, I had to quit my job due to my employment status restrictions. My employers and colleagues were upset of losing me, but we all had to move on. Before going back to Indonesia for the second time this year (my mom insisted I visited for a longer period of time), we got to go to Yellowstone National Parks for a bit with some friends. It was amazing; I wished we were there longer.

Extended trip back home (3.5 weeks) was OK. Meeting with my friends were great, but expectations from my mom and her friends were overwhelming. I found myself growing depressed and increasingly misunderstood and not listened to. When somebody tried to direct your life to their liking, of course I got pissed off. Especially when it's regarding marriage and having kids.

October came and I had a new job. But the stress level I felt inside was killing me. And this had little to do with my job.
Yes, my job is fragile at best.
I practically see my savings decline at an alarming rate due to limited income.
I see people younger than me spending money with little problems.
I had an expectation to get married (and most probably have kids soon).
I got my mom calling in once in a while asking how much I make for an hour.
She also wants me to come home to Indonesia.
I got no heart telling her that my home is here.
I developed a new passion for fashion design and sewing (seriously, this time....I hope).
I had a hard time calming my boyfriend's stress level most of the time.

Now I see my sewing table and feel guilty.
I have to find a more stable job and income, and all I do now is tending to this new hobby.
It's something I enjoy doing, but I'm not sure where I'm headed with this.
"Sometimes you don't need to know how to do it, you just do it."
"Holiness happens when you try. It's not what you've accomplished, it's not where you'll be."

Yes, we had a great weekend retreat together back in November.
Yes, we had a great Christmas mass choir. We practiced hard and it paid off.
But I still see this table with sewing kits, my head piece creations, and fabrics.
And I do feel guilty.
For I see what a lazy bitch I've become.

Merry Christmas.

It's Complicated

I just recently returned to my home country, Indonesia for a few weeks. Unfortunately, I didn't get to truly enjoy my "vacation" there. Getting together with best friends was great, however the whole thing about parents wanting me (and my boyfriend) to get married soon was really uncomfortable.

During the first 48 hours of my landing, it was made very CLEAR to me that I am expected to get married soon, get back to settle down in Indonesia, accompany my mom, and pretty much being obedient to her wishes. Now, for some of you, this may seem to be very sensible wishes. But for me, I can't help but being rebellious to these with every fiber of my being.

For one that got to "mature" overseas, I gain perspectives and open-mindedness that are probably hard to understand for people who chose to stay in my home country. The lifestyles are very different and some of our elders do see what-they-deem-as westernized behaviors (talking back to your parents, speaking out your own mind, having future dreams that are not compatible to those your parents plan for you, etc) as disgraceful. And yes, my family is conservative.

So I guess some of you (who are still reading at this point) may relate with me when I felt misunderstood and sad. My mom implied that she regretted sending me to the US for college studies since her daughter is now "changed" by the negative influences when I'm abroad. In addition, since I am an only daughter, it's seen as unbelievable (in a bad way) that I don't want to come back home for good to take care of my mother, especially after my father recently died.

To be honest with you, I really have no clue as to what "negative influences" my mom said. I never get drunk, I didn't do drugs, my friends are great, and I'm pursuing my dream to open a photo studio/boutique hybrid someday. I may not be where I want to be right now (the economy sucks, my job is so-so, and I'm kinda broke), but I don't give up.

Why do people want to pressure us to do something we clearly don't want to do? And I'm not talking about parents pushing their kids to study in order to do well in school. I'm talking about something along the line of parents pushing their kid to be a doctor when all he wants to do is to be an art director. Pushing their daughter to be an engineer when she wants to be a lawyer. I'm talking about different life calling. You know when you're called to be something. The road is going to be really hard, but we hope it's all going to be worth it. Even if in the end it's not worth it, there is still a sense of satisfaction of doing what our heart lead us to do regardless of what the end result is. Then we can start again from the beginning.

Now maybe the whole previous paragraph is part of the "negative influences" my mom talked about. However, I am sincerely grateful that I got to study overseas and open my eyes to my own calling. I'm almost sure right now that had I stayed in Indonesia for my whole life, I'm just going to be working mindlessly in a big company. I may earn much more than I do now, but I'm not going to enjoy my life.  And don't get me wrong. It's alright if you choose to stay dedicated to your own home country. I'm just saying that for me, with the kind of personality, imagination, and strong will, I will just be another stressed out persona in the busy streets of Jakarta. Again, that's just me.

So by now (if you're still reading), you probably figure out that I don't want to go back home. I want to stay here in the US and chase my dreams. Still, I have to respect (or at least listen actively) to what my parents (dad included) have to say. They love me, so they are very protective and want the best for their kids. Like some other parents, they have difficulties understanding that their kids have something else in mind, that their dreams are not the same as those of their parents. Like some other parents, they always view their kids as "once a kid, always a kid." As a result, they always feel the need to lead the way and tell their children what to do.

Now there's a lot more I can add to the previous paragraph, but I want to stop for now. You should get the point by now. And these unreal expectations only cause sadness and unnecessary stress to the kids. The kids (now adults) feel very much misunderstood and most importantly, do not feel supported by their parents. And that is truly ironic, since parents are there to support their kids and let them be happy.

Two Years Later: Reflection on EuroTrip 2007

I can’t believe it’s almost been two years since my adventure in Paris, Italy, and West Germany. I didn’t say anything for a while since I really had no idea what to say. Not because I don’t know what to write, but more like I don’t know where to begin to reflect on things I experienced while I was there. But now, I'll try to do it....as briefly as I possibly can.

You see, recently I read all of the travel journals I posted here. And how I am so amused on my own writings. It’s been so unreal, so magical, and so unexpected, the whole experience caught me off-guard most of the time. From the time I arrived in CDG airport until I left (and the whole airline strike ordeal I’m still too exhausted to share in detail), it’s been such a revelation to another side of the world that was unknown to me. Even now, my knowledge about it is still very humble. But I’m forever grateful to have experienced all that in this lifetime. Oh, how I have became bigger during that time.

Looking back on things, the whole EuroTrip 2007 was one of the defining moments in my life. I became stronger, my mind became richer, my heart became bigger. It’s not about the studies (there’s hardly any, to be honest with you) and probably it’s not about all the awesome places I got to visit with my new friends. It’s more about people I got to meet, the harsher experiences I got to live, the personal growth I got to have, and the spiritual revelation that God is always with me no matter what.

Even now, I still sometimes dream of that segment of life. Thinking I had to make my 8-minute trip to Carrefour or Auchan to buy some groceries. That 8:20 am Line-A train I got to catch to Cergy (where ESSEC, my school is). The amazing Le Louvre and beautiful La Tour Eiffel, both I just barely grazed at the surface. I remember all the 14 Metro lines I got to ride (at least once each), my favorite vintage clothing stores, the gorgeous countryside trips with our teachers and fellow exchange students, my trip to Germany to visit my marching band senior, and so much more.

Of course, I also remember the train thievery during my train ride from Rome to Firenze (Florence), my struggles of getting an apartment, or my frustration with the bus/train/taxi/airline strikes. But it’s OK. It’s moments like those when you realize your weaknesses. But they also remind you of your strength. I was careless; I took things too lightly and perhaps took them for granted at times. However, I was also surprised at how much faith I actually have in God, how mostly calm I was in facing all those situations, and how vulnerable life actually is.

I know I took time too leisurely at times. Time is too precious to be taken lightly. You only live once, and you have to make the fullest of this life you are living. It may sound cliché, but it’s cliché things like this that we keep forgetting even though it’s actually true. It’s easy to lay back and follow the river flow when we want to escape from reality. But please…..you, yes you, whoever’s reading this right now, I hope you continue to live your life to the fullest. Chase your dreams and make them happen. Live your life so you may not have any regrets. And may you be bigger than you are now.

The Prince Charming

- category: poem/observation -

One last tribute to my memory of Italy trip. On one of my previous posts, I mentioned that I met a friend in Florence, right after I got robbed on the train. Well, he was very sweet and downright flirtatious with me the whole evening, and I sincerely enjoyed his company that night. He confessed that he fell for me that night (even though I still doubt if he really meant it) but I told him it was not meant to be. Still, here is a poem as a tribute for our encounter at Firenzi (Florence) that night. Once again, my Italy trip album can be found here.

I'm not a Cinderella
but a magical night
I did have,
when I met a Prince Charming

I'm not a Cinderella
but the night was magical
As we stared into the romantic glitters
that fell upon the night of Firenzi

I'm not a Cinderella
She did not eat pizza for dinner
and her prince did not flirst endlessly with her

I'm not a Cinderella
He's not my Prince Charming
He's too late but...
perhaps that night I wished I was...

I'm not your Cinderella
I lost my mind to someone else
and you're not my Prince Charming
Because my King is waiting for me
at the other side of the ocean

-fin-

Of Things Lost

- category: observation -

My process of mourning following the theft that occurred in Italy (I know, it takes a while to let go - I've been whining about this) and trying to let go. But just now (December 3), I received the news that my grandma passed away...Such a wonderful woman; I am proud to be one of her grandchildren. I hope she can be proud of me too. Rest in peace, grandma, say hi to grandpa for me.


For a moment,
let me soak in my despair
lament of things lost
over the three sunsets

The horror and trembles
forgiven not forgotten,
relieved but bitter.

So pray....calm down...
..then let go.

But wait...
For a moment, remind me
of the times we were together
over thousands of sunrise

The smiles and gentle caresses
cherished not forgotten,
remembered but bitter.

So pray....pray some more...
...then let go.


-fin-

Notes:
The picture was taken at the Pere Lachaise Cemetery in Paris, France (the famous cemetery where famous people like Chopin, Haussman, Isadora Duncan, Jim Morrison rest). My visit to this cemetery was brief, but this cemetery was really peaceful and calm. OK, perhaps a bit eerie if you walk down the huge complex by yourself, but that was not the case. The complete album is accessible here.

Until next time...

Things that are hard to get over with in Europe..

1) Easy Europe travel & train strike in Paris

OK, compared to US, it is very easy to travel across Europe via train. For non-Europe residents, Eurail is a great deal to travel (and InterRail for Europe residents. Check those two websites for more information and feel free to drop me a comment if you need more convincing about Eurail. I'll give you one right now: monthly train RER/bus/Metro pass in Paris is 104.45 Euros for Zone 1 - 5, whereas 2-month Eurail pass that's valid for all public transportation in 18 European countries costs 798 Euros.

HOWEVER! Living in Paris gives its diadvantage when there is train strikes. People said it doesn't happen often but apparently I did experience it. During the strike, basically you don't know when or whether a bus, a metro, or a train operates. Of course you can consult RATP, but sometimes it only gives you "suggestions" instead of facts on the public transportation condition. For me, since ESSEC is located at Cergy (Zone 5), traveling from Paris (Zone 1) to Cergy took me at least 2 hours during the strike. And it's not straightforward route either. When I normally only do 1-2 train transfers, I have to do 3-5 train transfers during the strike, depending whether the train is going to their initial destination or stopping somewhere along the route. One word about train strike in Paris: TROUBLESOME. Waiting 30 minutes for a train that's unsure to come? Oui, c'est normal!

A picture of how waiting 25 minutes for a train that doesn't even its doors when it comes like:


2) People's craziness with Nutella

Nutella wasn't a new brand for me at all; I've known it since I was little. I never necessarily favored or hated the brand, it's just...there. But nutella is such a crazy thing here. I ate crepes a lot, and nutella is a must ingredient for making a chocolate crepe. And now I'm falling victim to the nutella-worshipping cult. Look at these pictures if you don't believe me how awesome nutella is.

The 5 kg nutella jar in Naples, Italy:



nutella in Chocolate Museum, Cologne, Germany:




3) Church issues:

The churches here are very gorgeous, it's almost a crime how gorgeous they are. However, unfortunately for many of them, they failed to make me feel more religious. Many of them become tourist sites, where people pouring in, being loud sometimes, pointing and "ooh-aah"ing, buying souvenirs, and other touristy things.

Many of them also do not know church rules and how people should behave whenever there's a mass (or other sacraments) going on, so perhaps that's why churches have hefty, mafia-looking security guards. They would stop you if they think you break the rules (if the sign says "No pictures", then it means ABSOLUTELY NO PICTURES). They would prevent you from going to places preserved for prayers (such as cripts and sometimes, the altar), and sometime they even replace the altar boys. In Rome, Italy, I was surprised to see the priests accompanied by a security guard to enter and leave the St. Maria Maggiore Church. A very interesting sight, I must say.

The last thing about church issues is that there is seldom a kneeling pad. There are kneeling wooden plank, but don't expect them to be cushy like I am used to in US. I learned it the hard way. Ouch! And some churches don't even have the wooden plank, so you have to kneel on the floor. God have mercy.

4) Thiefry in Italy

As much as I wanted to refute this and said something otherwise, the fact is my luggage got stolen in a train from Rome to Florence in Italy. Those thiefs have skills and I encountered at least 3 people in Rome who had their stuff stolen from them while they walked around. Some people said those thiefs would watch you for some time first to see whether you're vulnerable or not, then decide to rob you if you fall to the first category. Well, whatever, just be EXTREMELY careful in Italy (no matter where you are) and keep your belongings close to you, especially if you travel alone like I was. This is quite a pity since I actually love Italy a lot...I wish I can enjoy it with my guard set at "medium-high security" and not at "maximum security".

6) Different versions of keyboards

I love English keyboard. I did not realize it until I go to Europe. France has its own keyboard version where they jumble the letters around, Italy probably has it too (I am not sure; I was distracted by the thiefry), Germany has one. Gods, I am close to having a carpal tunnel from using a French keyboard for a day!
Here's a picture of German keyboard:



7) Toilet problems

No, it's not that you have to use plunger all the time, but I was sure was confused when I saw a "bidet" for the first time. I wasn't sure what it's for. And trust me, it's not a toilet. It's for...uh...cleaning your private parts. OK, moving on.

Also in Germany, many public toilets require you to pay, typically 50 cents. While it's generally well-maintained, it is still quite a pain (for me) to dig down my pockets for some change whenever nature calls.

Don't expect to always see paper napkins, too. France uses rolling cloth towel or blow-dry after you wash your hands, Germany and Italy generaly uses blow-dry. I might be wrong, but I had some difficulties finding paper napkins.

- that's it for now -

A week in Italy

- Travel Journal (Summary) : Sept 29 - Oct 6, 2007 -

I've been dreading the moment to write this summary, largely due to the 1,000 pictures that I lost along with my laptop and backup drive. Of course, they are all materials but losing them has created a burden that is yet to be relieved at this moment (*update November 12* - finally got a new laptop). Nevertheless, the Italy trip had been fascinating and wonderful.

Rome "the Eternal City" really has a proud history to live in and so far the best city in Italy I have visited. Of course, I would not be able to share it with you since my pictures are now history. Still, I would ABSOLUTELY visit Rome again if God gives me the chance to. The list of places I visited (and took pictures of) were as follows:

Saturday, 09/29 : Colosseum, Palatino Hill, Tomb of the Unknown Soldier (Piazza Venezia)
Sunday, 09/30 : Vatican City, Vatican Museum (Sistine Chapel), Castle D'Angelo, Isola Tiberina, Museum of Art at Barberini, Spanish Steps, and Trevi Fountain
Monday, 10/01 : Via Antica of the Ancient Rome, Catacombs of St. Calisto and St. Sebastian, Aqueducts, Circa Maximus, Sacra Argentina, Pantheon, Piazza Navona, and once again Trevi Fountain.

After some bewildered moments (my luggage was stolen in a train from Rome to Florence) upon my arrival in Florence on Tuesday, October 2, I got a chance to gather myself and enjoyed a little bit of Florence with a friend (we accidentally met in front of the Duomo). I only stayed for a day in Florence, but I got to enjoy Ponte Vecchio, Michael Angelo Hill that overlooks the city (very romantic spot) and the fake green David, a dinner at a restaurant, Galleria Uffizi (seeing "The Birth of Venus", "Primavera", and "Venus of Urbino" were certainly astounding), and certainly Duomo before my departure to Naples. I personally do not favor Florence that much since the buildings are so tall and the streets are so narrow and suffocated with tourists. It's amazing how everywhere I turned, people spoke English and nothing else.

Naples....well that's a completely different story. It was definitely a lifesafer to meet my friend, Sandra there (and leeched off of her a bit), but I was very surprised to see downtown Naples upon my arrival on Wednesday evening. The city was crowded, disorganized, quite dirty and gave off the atmosphere of insecurity. Of course, given that I was just robbed a day before fueled my negative bias about Naples. However, some of my friends shared my impression and could not even wait to go out of Naples! Still, like another friend said, Naples looked like a certain city area in Jakarta (my hometown) so dealing with Naples, albeit seemed dangerous, was still doable for me.

I did not venture to the city; I opted to go to the beautiful coasts outside of Naples named Positano and Amalfi beaches. I did not go to Capri since I did not want to trouble my friend so much with the high traveling costs (and she said Capri was kind of overhyped anyway). It's somewhat regrettable that we saw a lot of garbage bags on the street sides on the way to the beaches. Also, the beaches could have had a better view from afar if the air was not so polluted. Nevertheless, the beaches were beautiful and I could have spent more time there had I not been "crushed" by the robbery and discouraged by Naples itself.

After spending two nights there, Sandra and I hastily bade goodbye to Naples and went back to Rome to spend our last night there. It's truly bittersweet seeing all the wonderful sites once more and internally wept 'I took pictures of those sites before!' and encourage myself to create new memories with my camera (yes, it was not stolen, thank God). We managed to have some fun on our last visit to Rome before we went back to Paris on Saturday.

As I mentioned before, my camera was not stolen so I actually have the pictures starting from right before I left Rome (for Florence) until I got back to Rome. The album of my Italy Trip is accessible here.

So that's it, my very very much overdue travel update. I will now ditch travel journal updates and write more about my impressions with my EuroTrip so far and also my Germany trip. Until next time.

- to be continued -

Very Quick...

- Travel Journal: September 27 & 28, 2007 -

These are one-liners...
September 27: The day before French final exam and last day of student presentations
September 28: The last one to arrive at the exam room; how embarassing was that! Had a little trouble withdrawing cash from ATM machine, but after an attempt at a different machine and a call to the bank shortly after, the problem was beautifully solved. As for the exam? I don't know; I think I did okay...at least it's done (for now).

- to be continued... -

Enough Wine and Cheese for Today

- Travel Journal: September 26, 2007 -

Note: This is the last album uploaded on my GoogleWeb. All the 1000 pictures taken in Italy trip had no chance to be uploaded before the laptop was stolen. There will be no photo mentions for a while, at least until I find myself a new laptop to work with.

I have no class today and instead, the school organized a "wine and cheese" tasting free of charge. There were many interesting selections of cheese, most of which I tasted, but only a handful I really liked. The French brie is good, but I dislike stronger cheese such as blue cheese and goat cheese. Too strong for me. Even the orange cheese (one has a paprika mixed in it) has some kind of cow aftertaste (yes, cow!) The creamy ones are best, I think. But again, it depends on your taste buds.
The full album of wine and cheese tasting is accessible here.

After filling ourselves with wine and cheese (sorry for not commenting much on the wine - but Riesling wine is my favorite of the 2 white wines and 2 red wines presented), we wathed a French movie called "Americain Cuisiniere". It was funny and cheesy even though I could only understand about 10 - 15% of it, but yeah... It’s kinda awkward seeing breasts displayed so repeatedly and so gorgeously.

When I came home via train, I thought I saw police officers covering a dead body at La Muette station; I was instantly shocked and horrified. I also have to book train tickets and hostels for my upcoming Italy trip on Saturday...

- to be continued... -

The Week of French Exam begins

- Travel Journal: September 24, 2007 -

Note: I don't have a laptop right now, so I am using a computer in school with a French keyboard to type...oh, the joy...oh, and there is no journal on September 25.

I woke up too late and didn’t shower before school today. I managed to catch a (not so late) train to Cergy, and I could only smiled sheepishly while the teacher glared at me when I opened the classroom door on 9:25 am. After school, I had an interesting experience trying to look for a plunger with Sandra. We raced around Auchan with one of the managers and still could not find it. Seriously, it's like one of the old TV series where you have to find specific things on the supermarket aisles in a time limit! ... But we finally gave up. In turn, I bought some stuff for early food stocking and promise to buy more tomorrow. After that, I went back home and started updating blogs again when I met my boyfriend online and started chatting with him. Imagine my shock when I realized that I forgot his birthday more than a week ago! OMG! He was very sweet about it though, and I promised to buy him a nice souvenir when I go back to US in December.

- to be continued...(No update on Tuesday) -

Blog on hold...again

Quick update: Blog owner got her bag stolen at the train from Rome to Florence on October 2, 2007. Fortunately, she did not lose her passport or IDs, but she lost her laptop containing 1,000 pictures she took in Rome. Thus, there will be no pictures about all the wonderful places in Rome she visited, limited collections of Florence, Napoli, and perhaps a little bit of Rome later on.

The story will continue once she is back in Paris on October 7, 2007.

- to be continued... -

The Day of the Breizh Parade

- Travel Journal: September 23, 2007 -

Yesterday, I spent too much time surfing around the internet and watched Iron Chef episodes on YouTube; I haven’t prepared the presentation for tomorrow's class!
But first thing first, I had to go to Breizh Touch Parade. There were supposed to be a celebration of Celtic music with over 3,000 musicians and dancers taking part in this exciting event in Paris. But again, I got side-tracked and went to Madeline Church near Opera. Even though it was under construction (and so was the Opera), it has such a strong statement; the Joan de Arc statue, the humble tribute to John Paul II and Mother Teresa, and the gorgeous altar made the quick visit very much worth it.







By the time I reached Champ d’Elysee to see the Breizh Parade, the dancing stopped. Darn it! That explained why my pictures only got people in costumes standing around...But! I did get some good shots of the musicians.







I was also supposed to meet with friends but they arrived late and eventually I was wandering around alone. After a quick visit to the Arc de Triomphe (this time up, close, and personal), I bought a professor-recommended French dictionary and an Italian reference book (and I’m going to Italy next Saturday!) at W.H. Stone near Le Louvre.




After that, I simply went home and spent 5 hours to prepare the presentation. The long hours was largely because I got too excited about the putting pictures in the presentation. Some pictures even got rejected and did not make it to the presentation, you know... Anyway, I went to sleep right after I finished.

And hey, the whole album "Wandering in Paris - part 3" can be found here.

- to be continued... -

A Day of Relaxation

- Travel Journal: September 22, 2007 -

Today, I was resting at home to rejuvenate self. Yesterday’s excitement took a heavier toll on my body than I thought. Moreover, my sickness was not actually went away; it was just conveniently delayed. Worked for me though; I spent time catching up with blogs’ updating, picture editings, upcoming travel arrangements, homeworks, and job search – related stuff. I had to be careful though, I needed to stay healthy since people around me were getting sick (it’s the transition from summer to fall, after all).

I also had the first long conversation with the French lady; she’s also happy with the Moët & Chandon I bought for her. She also told me about a market in Pte. St. Cloud that’s open only on Wednesdays and Saturdays, but I have to always beware of pickpockets. She got her money stolen once before in that market. In addition, I just found out that this house experienced a burglary once and that Dewi lost many valuables without getting any money back, so again I have to be very careful and not take security for granted in this very nice area. Later that night, some friends were texting me and invited me to go to a chic club in Paris named Le Queen, but l opted to stay at home and watch Iron Chef. Entertaining Iron Chef episodes over an exciting night out at Le Queen? Certainly, especially with my stamina not in its top shape. Next time though, I would be glad to rock out “what my mama gave me”. Just you wait...

- to be continued... -

The Cathedral and The Champagne

- Travel Journal: September 21, 2007 -

Today was the day of the last field trip that ESSEC organized. This time, we went to Reims to see the gothic Notredame Cathedral and La Champagne to the House of Moët et Chandon for wine tasting. It would be a great time, but the morning started kind of shaky. I woke up later than I expected and reached Cergy Prefecture Station around 8:40 am. I was worried because I thought I missed the bus (we were told to meet in front of ESSEC on 8:30 am), but apparently the bus itself ended up being late. All of us waited until close to 9 am.

That little setback was remedied as soon as we reached Reims. When I saw The Cathedral, where most of French kings were crowned, I was awestruck. IT WAS HUGE and GORGEOUS! Some of the snapshots below did not do enough justice to this grand cathedral.








During our free time, I had a chance to explore the city. It was a charming city with lots of life. I had a great nice walks with friends and we had some hilarious moments trying to get the timer going with Sandra’s camera. It was worth it; all of us were laughing whole-heartedly, and the picture came out great. I had to pester Sandra to share me the picture; I ablsolutely love it! We also had a unique pie at a nearby pastry shop. It was stuffed with pork, rabbit, and veal dipped in champagne and baked in a wooden stove. It was delicious! I was greedy with eating that I did not think about shooting a picture of the pie, but here are some pictures of the precious free time.






But things started to go downhill due to my sudden sickness. I worried about my physical stamina and worried that I would not be able to enjoy the wine tasting at the House of Moët et Chandon. When I was waiting for the house tour, I seriously felt ill and struggled to stand up, let alone walk. When the tour began and the guide started to explain the different parts of the house and showed us a video, I felt my concentration slipping away.

I did not know what “woke” me up; the coolness and darkness of the wine cellar, the exciting labyrinth of the huge wine cellar and the possibility of getting lost due to my excessive camera-clicking to whatever objects I could find, the guide’s explanation about the long process of making wine, my friends, the realization that it might be easy to steal a bottle or two of still-under-process wine, or any mixture of any of the above. But one thing was for sure. I began to like Brut wine, at least the Brut Imperial of Moët & Chandon. All this time, I always drank sweet wine, but after tasting Brut Imperial, I began to wonder what on earth I had been drinking. Sure, I am not a great drinker, but I think I can appreciate a good wine when I came across wine. Moreover, the champagne actually helped revitalizing my energy and soon enough, I felt better already. I also found out from my teacher that French people like brut champagne the most (and hated the sweeter ones), so I bought one bottle of Brut Imperial as a gift for the French lady.









My only remaining drawback was going back to Paris via RER from Cergy. When the bus reached Cergy, it was close to 8:15 pm. It was a rather tiring journey back home (mostly because we spent a lot of time sitting down and did nothing at the bus already), but thank God for Sarah, Aimee, Laurie, and Nayuta who also took the RER to go to our respective apartments (except Nayuta, who went to take a bus to Germany). When I got home, I was so tired but obviously very happy. That was another great field trip. Bravo!

Oh, I almost forgot, the full album of The Cathedral and The Champagne is here.

- to be continued... -

Not the Best Day You and I had in Life..

- Travel Journal: September 20, 2007 -

It was a bad morning. I met the French lady in the morning, and she made some unfavorable comments implied towards Sandra. The worse thing was that Sandra was actually at the corridor and heard everything. Of course she’s pissed, and I felt really responsible. I knew from yesterday that asking her to let Sandra stay at the apartment was a bad decision; I felt really bad for both of them. I could understand why both of them felt the way they did, but I am definitely responsible for not being able to encourage better relationship between both of them.

After school, I went to Auchan at the nearby mall (the same one that has H&M, but this time I did not buy anything there). After comparing the prices of Auchan and Monoprix, I definitely need to do grocery shopping here, it’s much cheaper (later on, I found out that Monoprix is the most expensive grocery store chain in Paris). On our way home, each of us bought a cute black ballet flats for walking shoes at Auberg, the transfer station, before going on our separate ways.

When I got home, I took one look at my desk and knew immediately that Sandra mistakenly packed my laptop adapter. This was quite a disaster since my laptop could only last an hour or less without the adapter (the battery’s dying). That evening, it was such a hassle for her to go back and forth to give the adapter to me and reach the internet café (she still did not have internet; later that night, she decided to stay at a friend’s place in one of ESSEC’s Cergy residence halls). Meanwhile, that night I had a serious contemplation about the upcoming potential Italy trip.

By the way, I am very embarrassed about not being able to answer the phone here in the apartment. They rang pretty frequently and since I assumed they were all for either for the French lady or Dewi, I never bothered to answer it. It’s not that I could say anything decent... Anyway, I had to sleep early for tomorrow’s field trip to Reims and La Champagne. Wine tasting, anyone?

- to be continued... -

The Internet Dilemma

- Travel Journal: September 19, 2007 -

Before I started, I just want to share this funny print ad that I saw at the train station. I thought this was really, really cute. I apologize for the somewhat poor quality.



Even today, Sandra still did not have internet in her apartment, so we went to my apartment after school so she could do some work done online. I actually half-forced the French lady to allow her to spend the night at my room; deep down, I knew this would not go well. But I stood by my decision and felt that it was very much needed for Sandra to get online. I had experienced first hand that not having an internet connection was just a slow suicide.

Anyway, I created a soup with ratatouille and potatoes and sausages for dinner; in my opinion, it actually was kind of good. We also studied for exam and due to Sandra’s suggestion, I was really contemplating an Italy trip for the one week break we will have after the French language training course. I just hoped the wire transfer is good to go soon.

- to be continued... -