Entries Tagged 'life' ↓

Like many currencies, the kiwi dollar has been hit hard in recent months, to the point that it is now at its lowest level against the Greenback in 20 years, and it’s expected to go lower. This sounds terrible, but it’s not all bad - for me anyway. I send a big chunk of my income back to New Zealand to cover some of the set up costs for our kiwifruit orchard. I am now getting an extra 22 cents for every dollar I send. That’s pretty cool when you’re trying to build a house and save money.

Behold my weekly supply of tau sar piah, hand delivered every Tuesday from Balestier Road in Singapore. How debaucherous! For those of you who are yet to experience Singapore’s greatest gift to world cuisine (and possibly the only delicacy that comes close to rivalling Austrlaia’s TimTam), tau sar piah is a flaky chinese pastry with mung ben filling. This box probably won’t last the day.

About three months ago, we hired a new house boy, Imun. He’s a good kid - quiet, but nice enough. After a month of him working pretty hard, he began to slack off. He would spend most of his day hanging out with the jagas (security guards) at the front gate. Fair enough, it’s not like there’s a hell of a lot to do.

As I got to know Imun, I noticed that he didn’t seem very happy. I mentioned this to Awan, but he dismissed it immediately, ‘He has a job, food, somewhere to stay, why shouldn’t he be happy?’

But things got worse. Soon it was pretty obvious that he was really unhappy. The kid never smiled and mumbled his responses, and Awan had moved from dismissiveness to open criticism: ‘he shows no initiative’, ‘he’s lazy’, etc.

I tried a different tact and asked Awan why he thought that Imun was this way. What I learned was that Awan had employed Imun to drive for me at the weekend. He had even taken driving lessons and Awan had promised him more money if it worked out. The problem? I don’t really need a driver at the weekend. So Imun sat there in our shattered promises. Damn!

Given that I was already paying the kid, I figured I would give him a go this weekend. I gave him a couple of days notice, and on Wednesday night told him I would need him to drive for me at the weekend. The change was instantanous. The next day he was up early cleaning the cars, watering plants and generally getting things done. On Saturday morning, he turned up smartly dressed - like a driver - smiling and cheerful. I had a good day, and I think it was probably because I enjoyed him enjoying himself.

The lesson? Empty promises suck!

This beast is the latest addition to the household. Only two months old and she has caused quite a stir with Puss2, who is terrified of her. Yes, this is the same Puss2 who catches and kills bats and chased off a (carnivorous) musang the other night.

Lately I’ve been finding it difficult to write. The main problem I have is finding something to say. It’s not that there’s nothing interesting going on. There is so much going on that it’s hard to keep track! There’s an election coming up in three months, renewed tension in Ambon, an endless stream of corruption trials and of course the looming annual floods. Take your pick! The problem is that there’s nothing particularly positive or inspiring about these things. So, I have decided to take a leaf from Javajive’s book and write about me - or more specifically what’s happening to me.

You might find this hard to believe, but I am intensely private about my personal life. Sure, I’ll wax lyrical about what’s going on around me. But when it comes to what’s going on in my own life… well, that’s a different story.

I have only just begun to realize that this has a huge impact on how other people relate to me. Last week, I was traveling back to the office from a meeting with my co-director, Gunawan. I was telling him about the challenges of building a house in Central Java with Awan, when he turned to me and said, “I am glad you  told me about this, because it is something I would like to discuss with you.”

I was immediately suspicious. What did he want to tell me? Gunawan wouldn’t elaborate when pressed. “We can discuss over dinner some time.”

A couple of days later, I realized that there was nothing specific that he wanted to tell me. He was simply glad that we could talk about my personal life. I didn’t realize that it was off limits, though I could see why people might think so. Why so secretive, Brett?

So, I have decided to get a little more personal. Don’t worry. This isn’t going to be some twenty-first century Javanese version of Lady Chatterley’s Lover or Brokeback Mountain. I’ll keep it clean. I hope it’s still interesting…

Okay, so it’s a slow afternoon. Sue me! It’s just about time to go to the gym for a quick work out before heading off to dinner at Samarra or Buddha Bar…

What have we become? Last week, a friend’s brother died in hospital because he did not receive medical treatment for a head injury in time. Why? Because the hospital refused to treat him without payment upfront. The boy had suffered severe head injuries when falling from a tree. Doctors at the hospital told my friend that he would die if they did not operate immediately, but refused to carry out the surgery without a 60% down-payment - US$3,800.

All she could come up with was $1,500 (which is still a lot of money), so my friend spent the next four hours trying to find another hospital. Polri Hospital agreed to do the surgery, but it was too late. My friend’s brother died two days later. What really sucks is that Meilia Hospital still demanded payment of $500

This is the sort of f—d up shit I expect to see in the West, not here in Indonesia. What hope do we have if doctors will allow someone to die if there is a risk of them not getting paid? What about the Hippocratic Oath:

I will prescribe regimens for the good of my patients according to my ability and my judgment and never do harm to anyone. I will keep myself far from all intentional ill-doing.

Okay, I understand the position Indonesian doctors are in. This is a poor country and if they don’t demand payment upfront, our doctors will be as poor as everyone else. But there are other ways! How can we expect compassion from the man-on-the-street, when our hospitals will quite happily turn away a dying boy?

I don’t often catch sunset here in Jakarta and tonight’s was a stunner. Sunset comes and goes so bloody quickly. There is no lingering twilight here on the Equator. There’s no mucking around. At 17:59 it’s day. At 18:01 it’s night.

Three weeks ago I asked Apel (”apple” in English - a clever name for a gardener) to chop down a tree in our garden. The poor thing was suffering from a nasty attack of white lice-like parasites, which were spreading to other plants. This may sound like a rash move. Why not find something to kill the parasites? Well, short of digging up a horticulturalist from the University of Bogor, the chances of finding someone who knew what the parasite was and how to kill it were pretty slim. Plus, unlike anywhere else in the world I have lived, chopping down a tree in Indonesia does not mean death. Within three weeks the tree is showing a full recovery. Apparently trees grow seven times the international average (whatever that might be). Seeing this, I can believe it.

This morning you could see Mount Salak way off in the distance. Usually, Salak is hidden from view by steam and smog. Now and then Bukit Sentul pokes its head above the clouds, but it is rare to see its twin, which is 30 miles away. Even the city looked wonderfully clear. It’s on days like these I wish I had my camera - and not just my iPhone.