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A Wedding And A Quest For The Perfect Dress

22 Jan posted by

So I am going to a wedding next month.

It’s my cousin’s wedding out of town in Kupang. He’s my late aunt’s eldest and will be the first to get marry from her three children.

My mother had asked me to fly there with my other aunt and my uncle.

Followed by that was whirlwind of wedding prep craziness.

You see, for us Indonesians, weddings are huge. Literally! Granted, it will be big for everyone since it’s a lifetime of commitment bla bla bla. Let’s not go there, let’s stay within the wedding ceremony and reception.

My late Aunt and her husband was and still are one of the most respected pastors in Kupang. Her husband, my uncle, is the head of the churches organization for the whole island. With such status it is to be expected that the wedding of their son to be big with invitations as many as 600 invitations. Formally, one invitation is equal for two right? So roughly we’re talking about 1,200 guests here! *Faints and opted for a quicky Vegas chapel wedding*

Ok, you guys still breathing?

When my aunt told me about the size of this wedding I nearly rolled my eyes and willing to bet that there will be more than 1,200 people showing up at the venue.

The Dress Drama

The most common thing to do would be for all women from brides and the grooms families to dress in traditional dresses of Kebaya. I knew this. Yet, when my mother said “Ok, we’re going shopping for the fabrics this Saturday.” I felt suffocated!

Don’t get me wrong, Kebaya is really really pretty looking and I am so darn proud of them. But to get into one? Laces, heavy beads and sequins on the laces, plus a bustier? I.really.am.suffocating way before the tightness of the Kebaya wrap me up.

“Can’t I just modified mine to be a mini dress or something?” I pleaded to my aunt. Hey, at least my legs would be breathing!

“Are you crazy? The wedding is not in Jakarta! It will be in a small town.” She laughed and there goes my hopes of wearing a cute little mini dress of Kebaya.

I was actually thinking of something like this:

                                                               Source: google.co.id via Helentina on Pinterest

 

Saturday came and my aunt came armed with my two college fresh year teenage cousins. Off we went to the famous market of Tanah Abang to start fabric shopping.

The first shop we stopped by had this really pretty looking lacey Kebaya of black with intricate red tiny glittery things making the pattern very modern and young. It was glamorous and just gorgeous. One of my teenage cousin is the sister of the Groom. Normally she would be expected to wear something formal but one glance at her, I knew she would rather go all out hajaruku style than suffering wearing those pretty girly girl Kebaya.

Sure enough after going from one store to the hundreds more…she just couldn’t find one that she liked. She wanted to wear black!

After a tiring day – my mom and my aunt had successfully bagged God only knows how many fabrics and ready to wear Kebaya sets for the families to wear. I seriously had lost count!

With only 30 minutes before the shops are bounds to be closing down, I went back to the first shop we visited. I just had to give that black & red Kebaya a try. With my black polo shirt still on, the shop attendant strapped the tight bustier and pulled the straps tightly. The results? I looked amazing! – too bad in my excitement and between trying to figure out how to breath normally because boy, were they tight – I didn’t think of reaching into my purse and snap a picture or two. The Kebaya fit me like a second glove. My stomach had never looked so flat!

But then it dawned on me…

There is no way in the world I can go around taking pictures of the wedding wearing this tight bustier under albeit a very pretty Kebaya. I can’t even bent down for Pete’s sake! So, I half heartedly take them off.

My aunt had asked me to help out documenting the wedding using my camera so yeah, I think I’d go with something more comfortable instead.

Oh and against all odds, my little cousin had persuaded her aunts to let her got away with a black dress and after seeing her tormented face during the entire shopping day I sure can’t blamed her.

In the meantime…I’m still pretty much dress-less or Kebaya-less. Maybe I’ll just grab something simple on the last minutes.

 

12 Comments
Filed Under: Indonesia

We Are Sticking Together!

2 Dec posted by

Looking back, this year I had spent so much times in hospitals.

Well, we all had…

 

More than the last few years combine.

In brutal honesty, part of me wish this would stop. No more hospitals please, Lord. It’s too stressful, mentally draining and physically exhausting.

Yet here I am, sitting by the window facing a mall and an Ocean Park with my mother lays in hospital bed to my left.

She’s been hospitalized since 29th November from breathing problems. Results shows her lungs were half covered with fluids.

My father was just released from the hospital a couple of weeks prior and currently still doing outpatient treatment daily.  My mother has been his ‘nurse’ at home so to have both parents ill really is hard for all of us the children.

Intensive Care Units’ Waiting Room really is one of the most depressing place to be.  There’s just  so much sadness and grief hanging in the air. There used to be an invisible bonds between families who stayed at these waiting rooms while their loved ones are battling their serious illness.

I first experienced this years ago as I spent so many nights for my Grandfather in the hospital.

Things are changing…

Actually, I just realized this when my father was hospitalized. There are more maids even hired caretakers than immediate families.

Yes, I understand everyone is busy in the big city. Time is money. Deadlines to catch, etc…etc…

Not for us!

Both my brothers are working full time and so am I but we managed to stretch our times to be with our parents. Even if the three of us have to take turns spending the night at the hospital.  Even if that means we had to sleep on a thin creaky beds that hurt our backs. We rushed to the hospital after work. We take turns staying in the hospital during the days too.

Of course like many families here in Jakarta, we have helpers at home. We could easily ask them to come and watch our parents in the hospital while we sleep in our comfy beds at home. So why not, then? It just doesn’t feels right. That’s just not in our family’s cultures I guess. None of our parents asked us to stay, sometimes they even try to shoo us out.

Our parents must’ve raised us good. They instilled in us from early on and by living the message that families stick together.

So to hear other’s criticizing me or my brothers for spending so much times in the hospital deserves some bitch slaps, hard!

Work is important especially when you’re a single mom – I’ll be the first to admit that. But still, family comes first and in times like this sometimes you have no other choice but being by the sides of the people you love. And that my friends, is what I’m doing.

This family has been through so much this year yet we are surviving  it all together. Tears filled coated with many of laughter wrapped up in an ever growing faith that God will let us sail through whatever it is life throw at us. We are together!

And that’s what matters most…

9 Comments
Filed Under: Health

Two Cultures, One Heart

3 Nov posted by

In my nearly 5 years of being a mother to little dude, a lot has changed. A lot has influenced me in this whole journey of motherhood.

From facing motherhood ‘unexpectedly’ by having my son 5 weeks earlier than expected – thanks to my severe preeclampsia, from dealing with undiagnosed post-partum depression, from moving to China temporarily before moving permanently back to my home country of Indonesia, from the demise of my marriage, from practicing co-parenting…

So much has happened.

My way of motherhood has clearly become one that’s not very mainstream like, loaded with influences from two cultures.

Scoops from two cultures, one heart

That’s my tag line. Two cultures because the influences from my Indonesian – Southeast Asian background and you got the Western parts as my son is born out of two emerged cultures. One heart, because despite the differences the source is one…this little boy who is not so little anymore.

Looking back, frictions of having my own beliefs when it comes to parenting/motherhood and that of my cultural upbringing were not as bad as I feared. Of course it was slightly overwhelming at first, just like when my mother suggested that I strapped my post-emergency-c-section-tummy with a girdle or put a coin on my new baby’s belly button to prevent him from being an outie – which by the way I refused to practice and his belly button looks normal now.

Now that I had readjusted myself to be living back here permanently, I am more in-tune with whatever works for us – this little boy and his mommy – instead of what is demanded by society.

Easier to say than done…I’d like to think it developed over times and will continues to do so as I travel this journey of motherhood longer.

When I first brought my son home to Indonesia, he was about 10 months old.  I hated the way strangers would come and pinch his cheeks or hold his baby fat covered hands. Maybe because back in Alabama people just doesn’t do that, but overtime I came to understand that these are just the admiration gestures my own people have. A gesture that has been going on for decades if not million of years ago. I even blogged awhile back about this very topic of please don’t touch my baby!

Now that I’m a single mom who is learning to master the art of practice co-parenting, there are still miles of challenges up ahead. Be it from my inner self and also from society who sadly still have huge doubts about co-parenting, some people here even still looks down on single moms.

It may looks like I have plenty of internal wars within me from trying to combine and maintain a balance of two cultures in raising my son but in the end what matters is that one heart…that is growing outside my body.

Our two cultures maybe quite colorful but if we take the goods out of both worlds our lives will be rich and this boy will grow up with pride of having the best of both worlds. And that is one of my motherhood purpose…

This month World Moms Blog is celebrating their 1  year blogiversary and I am linking up with them and many other great bloggers from across the globe. Come check it out and travel the world of motherhood.

 

20 Comments
Filed Under: Single Mommyhood

More Than Skin Colors

22 Sep posted by
oldy

Saw this great piece on Facebook today shared by Bicultural Mama and I was nodding and laughing my behind reading it and knew I MUST blog a more serious spin about the topic.

So here goes…

My son is a ‘product’ of mix marriage. His father – Mr. X is American and I am Indonesian.

A little history background, I’m ‘mixed’ too. Somewhere down the line from my father’s side of the family there was a hint of Dutch yet my father is Ambonese. My mother is Manadonese which means she has very light skins and sometimes people misjudged her as Chinese.

Their ‘products’ are three kids, two of them looks like white/half Caucasian and one of them well just have a dark skin. That dark skinned one would be me.

I remember my father told me the doctors didn’t even believe he is the father after my super ‘white’ brother was born. They had to put him under the UV lights right away because they thought he’s just too white! Go figure!

Here’s an old picture of my father holding my brother. No wonder people used to doubt he is the father! Psst, yes, that was me in my father’s truck.

 

Being the ‘different’ one in the family growing up most people got surprised that the three of us, my brothers and I are related. We used to get teased. We’ve heard it all.

My favorite ‘incident’ was when I was living in this rental ‘boarding house’ with my brother. He just started college in Jakarta and we rented two different rooms in a boarding house. One night, just recently after we moved in, I took him to Hardrock Café with my girlfriend. On our way home back to the house we had to walk in this small alley big enough for just a motorcycle to fit. The next day, we got a report from the housekeeper that one of the neighbors had called our landlord and reported “Hey, that new girl is bringing home a bule* last night!”. We didn’t get in trouble but it was hilarious!

Since I became a mother I has never been more uncomfortable than moving back here. Back in the States even when we were living in a small itty bitty town of Alabama, no one had said any weird comments about Lil’ A. If anything, people told me he’s adorable and most mistakenly thought he’s a girl – thus the abuse of the color blue by me!

My first encounter with unpleasant comments was when I first came home to introduce my then 10 months old baby to my big Indonesian family. At the time my parents were still living in East Borneo a town called Balikpapan. We then flew to Makassar, South Sulawesi to let my Grandmother met Lil’ A.

After we deplaned, we had to take a bus into the airport’s terminal. I was sitting right next to my mother, Lil’ A on my lap, my youngest brother, Danny was to my right. An older lady right in front of my mother smiled, obviously staring at Lil’ A.

“Is that your grandson?” the lady said. My mother, the proud grandmother said yes and smiled broadly.  “Yes, that’s his mother” she placed her arm on my shoulder.

“Oooh…is that the father?” pointing at my brother who yes, often mistakenly thought as Caucasian. Huh?

That ‘incident’ got all of us laughing but believe me I’ve been on the receiving end of some really annoying inappropriate questions from strangers. From asking if I’m the nanny to saying “He’s so cute, too bad his nose looks just like yours!” S’cuse me? Among other nuisance questionings.

I think Lil’ A looks more like me than anything but of course I am biased! Hopefully he won’t have too much of a hard time growing up in Jakarta being a mix product and NO I do not wish he would throw himself to these whole ‘mixed races bunch of artists’ trend in Jakarta. If that’s what he really wants then we’ll deal with that when he’s 18!

What’s the most annoying remarks people give you if you have a mixed race children? Do share the silliest comment people make about your children.

 

*Bule = Indonesian slang for caucasian

7 Comments
Filed Under: Mix Marriage, Toddlerhood

The D Word – A Stigma Story

27 Nov posted by

Last week, on my way home in one of my colleague’s car, another colleague teased him to date our other colleague.

“Jendi!” (slang for divorcee/widower) was his immediate response.

Stunned, I just had to dig deeper… “What’s wrong with being a divorcee?” The guy fell silent for a few seconds before quickly saying “Oh, nothing…” but if you were there you’d know that it’s far from nothing.

I can tell he was embarrassed when I told him I’ll become a divorcee myself soon.

You see this is the kind of way of thinking or reactions shadowing plenty of Indonesians. Yes, they would say that divorce is so common now. Local celebrities done it, common people went through it. But then what’s with the negativity?

Many people still thinks that just because someone is a divorcee then they will immediately seduce your husband’s/boyfriends – wait, this sounds like the old Indonesian movies from the 80s, right? Many still put the blame on the women for choosing to break free from whatever real situations she’s having in her marriage. Whether people like to admit it or not, divorced women are still seen as a bad thing, shameful, a disgrace.

Being mostly patriarchy, for men to be divorced or have more than one wife are considered normal. Double standards, much?

In a country where a lot of women suffers in silence and put up with whatever conditions their husbands put them through just to avoid the shame of carrying that title as ‘divorcee’. It is upsetting to see these kinds of stereotypes albeit not everyone have such a narrow mind set but facts is this is not the 1950s anymore and I’ve known some really awesome strong, smart, sweet women who went through divorces before.

These days most of the people at my office already know about my status and to be honest, I don’t care anymore. It’s none of their beeswax in the first place. My skins still have to grow thicker to ignore those unwanted marital advices from  “Apa nggak sayang punya anak cakep gitu?” (Aren’t you sorry for your handsome son?) downright to “Why can’t you give it another try?”.

Uhm…excuse me?!

Those are the times where I pull my wall up and gave them an empty smile before diverting the conversation to something else or I’ll walk away.

First of, it’s none of their beeswax for sure. I did not air my ‘drama’ in the office. These people found out somehow about my status and so be it.

Secondly, I do not owe any of them any explanation in the first place. No one…really knows for sure but me and I don’t need to justify myself.

Luckily, my family and close friends are all very supportive and to them I would still be me…Maybe I’ll bear the scars for awhile but I can already feel that I am a much stronger person now than before.

As I’m sailing through this whole process of being a divorcee, I still have much to learn, I might stumble and fall along the way or weep my eyes off but again, what doesn’t kill me will only makes me stronger!

What do you think/feel about a divorcee?

20 Comments
Filed Under: Divorce

When Indonesian & French Collided

7 Oct posted by

It was a cool autumn day. The trees are changing colors and the humidity is pretty much gone.

Two women sitting in a café, one with a cappuccino and the other with an espresso although she doesn’t really drink coffee, she was kind enough to meet up for coffee.

Coffee friends
Creative Commons Licensephoto credit: namuit

They had ‘met’ online and bonded really well with similarities that drew them together. Such as being immigrants to the US of A, being married to Americans, both have boys, and most of all, both loves blogging. One is a French born and one is Indonesian,  it didn’t take long for the friendship to grow.

“So tell me, did you ever get that famous culture shock moments when you first got here?” asked the Indonesian girl.

Maryline drew a smile, her mind wondering back to some years ago “You bet! I remember the overwhelming sensation of wide open space, a different relationship to distances, and the blatant demonstration of bigger is better. Gigantic soul-less shopping centers with the largest parking lots I have ever seen. 6 or 7-lane highways with cars competing for the most wheels you can have, the most leg room and the largest cargo space.”

“Oh yeah…I know what you means!” they both smiled in agreements only immigrants can understands.

Maryline continues, “It was physically and emotionally overwhelming. I was missing the quaint towns, the proximity of things that belong together (and have for centuries!), the feeling of warmth and having-your-things together when you can easily wrap your arms around them. We have a French saying that says “The smaller, the cuter” (Plus c’est petit, plus c’est mignon). There is some truth to that!”

They went on to talk about this. Comparing how things are between the great US of A and their own home countries. There are of course things that they both miss but they also love their adopted country.

“Hey, is that true that French language is the sexiest in the world? Well, I have friends who thinks that’s true!” asked Maureen, remembering her college friends and how eager they were in learning how to say I love you and I miss you perfectly in French.

The French beauty threw her head back and started to laugh before continuing “It is?? I had no idea! I thought Spanish was, especially Spanish from Spain. Muy caliente!” More laugther from both.

The chit-chat turns into the blogsphere and their love for it. Maryline’s blog although still in infancy has grown so much in just a mere 3 months. How many blogs can reach that points? It truly is amazing. So Maureen just has to asked her “What’s your secret, girl? Your blog really has taken off in such a short time!”

Again, Maryline laugh – and her laugh is so contagious “My blog has grown a lot? You’re kidding!? I am not sure what you are comparing it to, but in the absolute, yes, it’s grown. More readers, more posts, more subject matters. I think blogging integrity is key. If you say you blog about your life, don’t make it up. I’d also add that consistency is a must have to establish a loyal and coherent readership. If you pick a theme, stick to it. As long as you are honest and genuine, then connections will happen. I enjoy blogging a lot more now that I take more loosely — low stress, yet high expectations but no sweats over stats every day or must-post-daily. Not worth it!

“Surprisingly I can now go an entire day without logging on to Google Analytics! :) ”

Both laughing again “Hah, yeah the Analytics, isn’t it addicting to see those numbers go up? But you’re right I love that…integrity is key!”

Maryline has been writing with just that, integrity and her heart. Her posts are genuine, sometimes comical but maybe that’s how they can get along so well in that small café being that’s the first time these two meet in persons because she’s real. She’s genuine and her writing depicts her personality.

She then shared her most fun and dear posts “The most fun: Because I love lists and this one ought to be viral!! 10 Email Tips to Maximize Counter-Performance We have a tie for the most dear: After the Butterflies Leave and No Domestic Diva.

These two shared their hopes and dreams for their ‘babies’ aka their blogs,  “I hope not hosted by Bluehost anymore. They’ve been very unreliable.” Mutual understanding laughter here “But seriously, I see it being the same, just me. Me and my cultural facts, my silly analogies with marriage and sex, my attempts at staying in shape with running and triathlons, my motherhood testimonials. Maybe with a new design? I would love the help of a designer to personalize my header and develop a color theme. For now, I am just continuing my work with words.”

“Amen, sistah!” Both agree that no matter where their blogs are heading they would stick with being true to their voices.

They switched gears to talk about the inevitable, motherhood, specially mothering mixed culture kids. Maryline has been speaking French exclusively to her son since he was born to maintain the balance of the two influencing cultures. She has a really cute nickname for her boy “Poisson”. Realizing it or not, she’s been doing One Parent One Language method in raising Poisson.

“It’s hard because when other people get involved in our conversations I automatically switch to English. I should make an effort to continue speaking French, so that my husband and friends can also pick up some French :)  Overall it’s working out well because my son and I spend a fair amount of time one one one, and we only speak French then. I only read him French books, and sing French songs. He loves music!

True story for you: we’ve had two different friends who’ve watched Poisson recently as well as our caregiver tell us that they hear a French intonation in his baby speech. I cannot wait for him to talk more!!”

“That’s exciting isn’t? To think that our kiddos will master two languages (if not more) will really benefit them in the long run.”

Again, both nodded and smiled knowingly.

The chats continues, they talked, they laughed and most importantly their friendship grows.

Thanks for being such a wonderful friend, Maryline. I hope one day – we will have a chance to grab those coffees and doing just this!

This has been my week 4 submission for Back 2 School, Back 2 Blogging.

Kludgy Mom

32 Comments
Filed Under: Blogging
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