Jakarta, 17 August 2005

60 years ago, on that date, my beloved motherland was proclaimed free. Free from foreign occupation, that is. Freedom is every nations’ right, therefore, colonization (in any forms) must be eradicated as it is conflict with humanity and justice. Well, at least those are the ideas behind that historic moment. Indonesia is now “free from colonization/occupation” (in archaic meaning), as it now faces with some modern forms of the tie, bind, suppress, colonization (let me say foreign debts, hunger, corruption, injustice, to mention a few)

60 years from the nation’s historic moment I made my own historic moment; attending independence ceremony at National Palace. This happened out of favor from my old friend from “inner circle”. Now, sit back and read my story.

I left my house at 07.00 (the invitation says 10.00, my friend told me to be there before 08.30, the journey in working hours takes one and a half hour). Having had anticipated some diversions I finally parked my car more than one kilometer away from the site (it was in the Grand Mosque’s parking lot). But no worries, dear reader, shuttle carts were made available for poor newbies like me and some people from neighboring regions (who also got invited). Five minutes ride, and we got off to be attended to by presidential guards, all big, armed, sharp-eyed, and smile.

How I loved that moment, being briskedly checked, efficient and “tensed”, I mean, who can guarantee that I forgot to leave my big-42mm-smith-and-wessons at home to be found my those guards?? Survived from guards we were escorted to registration where attendants exchanged our “voucher” with gifts, courtesy of state secretariat and He himself, SBY.

Seating. Having “D class” I got to go to half-full block of seats of D class. I wonder; how early those people left their domains. The block was some 50 meters away from main podium where SBY was to be seated. Far is it not? Yes, I think so, and I started to grumble at my own realization of how “low” I am. But, hey, who was that? Already sitting, holding a pair of binoculars? No other but my company’s director of personnel and general affairs! Then, I could smile and started to enjoy the ambiance, I know you know what I mean… So, I got myself a nice spot to sit, sit on it, now with pride.

Troop of honors entered the yard in front of our block. The troops consisted of active duty service men and women, and military cadets. Those youngsters, the cadets, you could almost smell their exuberance and youth from where you sit. Afterward, the flag-posting troops entered, ever in dignity. Flag posting ceremony was conducted in an army-like efficiency while the grand solemn aura never left the scene.
Then, it came a time for aubade. They were about to present six solid songs. First song; Okay. Second song; As I was about to prepare for listening a so-so song, this boy sang his feeling out, “My motherland, I will never forget you….” I fought to handle my feeling bravely, and lost. Those tears flowed like creeks out of my small eyes, thanks for my sunglasses (I hope) nobody saw this father of four weeping like his newborn baby.

Okay, enough about my tears. Let’s talk about Him. SBY, the country’s first ever directly elected president. I admire this guy more and more. Forget about his military background, forget about him being the best of his military academy class of 1971, forget about him being Chief of General Staff of Military, thus responsible for the capital’s safety in 1996 (first riot in Jakarta, pre 1998 riot). He is just a beautiful creature, sent from above to tackle the country’s problem that had been “neglected” by his predecessors. His latest achievement? Signing of peace deal with Free Atjeh Movement. An event that is lashed out by some MPs (note: most of them civilians). A peace agreement, initiated by military-background prominent figure, lamented by civilian politicians? This country needs to see a shrink.

What’s in a name?

An expression most of people heard of more than once and many of them understand it, even more don’t.

At least one of the religions teaches that it is a parents’ obligation to give their offspring proper, if not beautiful, name. It is a first heritage that parents pass on. Some really take it hard that they can not bear the task individually and ask the Great Creator of a proper name for their child. Some take the responsibility, keeping in mind the importance, and scrutinize some literature for reference. Some civilizations take daily household things’ name for their kid. Some pick up names out of thin air. I belong to one of those groups.

All brings up names; Ahmed, Nabila, Rania Hasna, Lemoni, Idhfir, Bonar, and Motor, to name a few. I like names, trying to find what “the meaning inside” it, its background, where it originates from and so on. And for sure, I will be honored to give a name to a newborn baby.