Singapura


Sebelum ke Singapura tahun 2003, saya membaca buku Singapura. Sebuah buku panduan wisata yang berisi sejarah, peta, tempat wisata dan lainnya. Dalam bagian sejarah, ada sejumlah catatan bibliografi mengenai Singapura, seperti Hikayat Abdullah (Abdullah bin Kadir, 1849) dan Golden Chersonese (Isabella Bird, 1879). Namun hal yang paling menarik dari buku itu adalah puisi. “My Country and My People” ditulis oleh Lee Tzu Peng. Cuplikannya seperti ini:


My country and my people
I never understood
I grew up in China’s mighty shadow,
with my gentle, brown-skinned neighbours;
but I keep diaries in English.
I sought to grow in humanity’s rich soil,
and started digging on the banks, then saw
life carrying my friends downstream.

Entahlah, saya tak begitu memahami puisinya. Tetapi tahun lalu saya menulis interpretasi mengenai Lee. Lee Tzu Pheng adalah sastrawan yang gelisah dengan kemajuan. Ia tak ingin tumbuh di negeri yang penuh prasangka etnik. Dan, ia mencari rasa kemanusiaan di tengah-tengah kaumnya sendiri. Namun, ia gagal; ia tak menemukannya. Negeri ini kehilangan rasa kemanusiaan itu.

Masalah sekaligus solusi Singapura adalah pemerintahnya, negerinya sendiri. Seseorang tak perlu mencari. Setiap kondisi adalah terberi. Hidup hari ini ditentukan oleh kita, tapi hidup 30 tahun lagi ditentukan oleh negara. Jika sudah demikian maka negeri ini memiliki makna yang sama dengan “rumah” menurut Le Corbusier (arsitek legendaris), yaitu sebuah mesin.

 

Javanese Wedding and A Funeral


I hope I would not be considered as “wedding master” by writing this subsequent essay on wedding he he … But this wedding is different. It’s held in Surabaya, East Java. And the bride is my own cousin, Mbak Lisa. “Mbak” is used to address older sister in Javanese language. Lisa is her name. She got married on Sunday, June 19, 2005. The wedding matrimony is unique. It is held inside hospital, right in my aunty’s room, whereby she laid down in the opname scheme due to heart desease – kidney – diabetes complication. Really unfortunate. But by this way, my aunty could “attend” the wedding matrimony. At 10 AM, wedding reception is held in another place: a big hall. Definitely, my aunty couldnot come. Javanese rhythm, customs, foods, people are in the common hall. I was among the family member who wore “beskap” or Javanese male-custom. The wedding went well and it’s some kind of family reunion in there. I was so amused by this remembrance.

My Aunt passed away two days after her daughter got married. Somehow, it’s likely that we know that it will happen so we arrange the wedding in front of her: she can witness her daughter getting married. My aunty died at the age of 63, left her husband (who was an ex-Navy Seals Mariner) and one daughter. All I remember is that she is a very active woman, an educator in her highschool, music lover, food lover, kind and hillarious in all states: she is simply very lovable aunty. May God takes care of you in heaven.