Apa Kabar?

Out of instinct in seeing a nicely designed magazine I picked up an issue of the latest Kabar, a magazine dedicated for expats in the country. For its extremely high content of “travel, experience, and taste” –their tag line- I dunno why I hadn’t pick them up earlier than that blessed day at Hero Kemang. It was indeed a blessed day for I could not be even happier to find that tasteful pics of hot men were gracing pages after pages in the name of art.

The topic of the month was Sarong and the City Guy. While traditionally I only found two uses of sarongs for the guys in the city: 1. To guard against bad-night-chills and mosquito-laden pos kamling when you have to help secure your community once in a while. 2. Ritual item to wear during prayers especially in the month of Ramadhan in Indonesia.



I didn’t give too much interest in sarongs except for one of those collectible batik peranakan style which are so goddamn gorgeous in some textile museum. But it all changed after seeing Hengky, Mike, Arie and Paul strutting their stuffs for the photographer. Now, I realized how a sarong would enhance your upper torso that you’ve worked so hard and create a mysterious aura of what lies beneath those sheer fabrics. How gay can you be? I asked. Furthermore, I bet Mr. Samuel Wattimena was having a blast when he had to contribute some of his intricate sarong works while also becoming the stylist for the shoots. Do I have enough reason to hate him now?

Moving on to the hunk with the cap above, he is not just some tourist jerk you’d find around Kuta or Jalan Jaksa. Amazingly, Brandon Hoover, was one of the photo contributor for the magazine for the travel section around Java and Bali. Ah, those arms… Must be the intense clicking of the shutter button to create such massive biceps… Hmm.. Find more on him at www.thejavajive.com . A.s.l: 28, m, Jakarta (since 2002).

Reading onto the sport section, it read: “Jiujitsu Hits Jakarta… with a Brazilian Flavour” Adorned with a cute picture of a Jiujitsu instructor. Yeah… they must’ve taken the pic somewhere just to decorate the page right? Wrong! Niko, the guy in the white kimono (duh!) is actually the instructor that would teach you personally (well, maybe not that personal!), hands-on, mano-a-mano if you’d join his class every Tuesday and Thursday in Pasaraya. Anyone?

For it seemed that this reading material was targetted towards horny ibu-ibu (ladies) expat or their closetted conterparts maybe I should read more of the incoming editions of this publication. Very refreshing, inspiring, and shall I say... perspiring?

Brazilian Flavour Jiujitsu

I haven’t even began to write about my extra terrestrial encounter with my super hot capoeira mestre when I was invited to preview a class by a friend of mine. After sitting in a semi-lotus position for about an hour (I had to, they only had the floor to land my lazy bum), I made a mental judgement that capoeira shall forever be banned from the face of the earth. And now another (cute) Brazilian thing is swooping J-Town with its mysterious charm.

Sitting at end of the class, those were all I saw, in glory: The butts of about two-dozen guys and girls, prancing around like there were no tomorrow. Bubble butts in white training pants were everywhere. I swear, I felt like waking up in heaven with angels dancing to the rhythm of the samba. For only around $20, I’d get to wake up in heaven eight times a month, every Wednesdays and Sundays, with a chance of increasing speed and agility, getting fit, loosing fat, and creating the ultimate soccer-thighs and bubblicious buns. Capoeira shall be banned! I say. It was as if sex oozes from the native dances and movements. Highly erotic (and erratic in a way) it was as if they were performing some sort ritual on the beach somewhere to pray for a local demi-god in a roda (circle) of people. On top of that, it was always okay to extend your pinkies as it seemed to be a very normal hand gestures while moving back and fro.

However, little that I knew, that in the same building, in the same health club, on Tuesdays and Thursdays now you may find Niko (from the blog “Apa Kabar?”), teaching Synergy Jiujitsu with a promise on promoting self-defense, fitness, character development, and personal achievements. Oh really? Really?

With a click of a button, there I surfed their website to find what is it all about. If you knew me better, as in viewing Friendster pages, you’d know that I’d go straight for the pictures first prior to read any information given by its owner.

Upon clicking the instructor’s profile, my heart sank.

“It’s not fair!” I screamed.

Inside the website, I just found out that they’d only utilized Niko, the cute Brazillian model, ups, sorry, instructor to be the teaser of what’s coming next. See below.


Frankly, I don’t really wanna walk with Niko Han on my left and Deddy Wigraha, the other instructor on my rightside, around Blok-M Mall/ Melawai at night. I am pretty sure, the pretty three of us would be the first mugging target. We’re gonna look so cute together! The only difference is that those bad guys would get a harder time in snatching our vintage baguette bags from our hands than a dozen of golden bracelets from tante-tante India next door.



Inside the gallery, I thought I was in another straight-jocks-do-suck website waiting for them to loose their clothing items one by one and wrestle in the glistening vegetable oil on a steamy mattress. Oh, sorry my mind wandered-off to far.

Shall we? At least we could get a group rate on Brazilian wax afterwards.

Synergy Brazilian Jiujitsu
Tuesdays and Thursdays: 8-10 PM
e. niko@synergyjiujitsu.com
w. http://www.synergyjiujitsu.com

Body Life Fitness Center
Pasaraya Grande
Jl. Iskandarsyah II No. 2
Jakarta Selatan

Nice Tattoos You Have There

A ball of fire lively burning with dazzles of yellow, orange and red hues before a Sanskrit word Ohm inked in black on the lower nape of his neck. While he was changing his pants I got a sneak of another tattoo on his right calf. The magic number was three he said: The number of tattoos on his body. With that I only have to use my detective skills to unearth the hidden one sooner or later.

It was a rather warm night when we were having a nasi goreng tektek dinner somewhere near his residence when he asked me, “Do you mind if I plan to have another tattoo across my chest? It’s gonna be a tribal one”. “Go ahead, I never mind anyone with tattoos” afraid he’d get big-headed, I said without divulging an important kink that I have for dudes with tatts.
“You should get one… You’d look good with a tattoo or two” he continued.

I know I would. At that moment I started imagining myself having a tiger crouching on my right upper back. But then again, how does one suppose to fuck himself? Cuz I’d definitely fuck myself I were a tattoo dude. Secondly, the idea of permanency scared the hell out of me. With Martha, you could always rearrange your living room, but to erase or exchange a tattoo? It’s a lifetime commitment in which I don’t think I am giving in yet. Lastly of course, I wasn’t about to hurt myself with any sharp objects piercing onto the surface of my skin. Ask me again if the object happened to be blunt, inviting, and oozing with hmmm. I’ll stop here to leave a space for your imagination.

Getting back to the person, I don’t even know why I chose to date this person. He didn’t seem right, didn’t even look right for my type for he was rather skinny. It must be his tattoos. I am well known as the ultimate sucker for tattoo dudes. One of my favorite ever TV shows is Miami Inked. Gorgeous everlasting paintings that would utilize your skin as the display medium. And even the hot tattoo “artists” in the show were my ultimate eye-candies. Don’t ask me the reason why I like this subject very much. Maybe I am stuck with one of those “two goodie-shoes princess who only dates bad boys” stigmas. The thing is, I don’t exactly look like a princess with this ever-going army look of mine. And I prefer sneakers any day to any stilettos made of glass, even if the venerable Datuk Jimmy Choo would ever market them.

If one could ever associate the primal behaviors of a pack of wild dogs with their human counterparts: I would say that as an alpha-bitch, I would need to date a top-dog. Just insuring that I’d get the crème-de-la-crème for my future offspring (physically and socially).

But however, I won’t be calling this latest tattoo dude in my collection a top-dog either. (As if! I wish I had a collection of this type anyway). With insecurity as his latest fashion, even moi, this bitch, is even more masculine than him. I felt like a butch dating a fem lesbian. And the reason why I rarely date brondong (younger guys) was that I don’t need another financial burden in the life of crazy ol’e me. As long as you can support and supply yourself with whatever you may want or need in your life then I am fine. And as long as you don’t ask these extremely delicate matters from me I’d be fine. But as you guessed it, not trying to corner him, I just wished that he’d manage his life better than today. But most of all, to be a top-dog, at least you’d have to be a top. Isn’t it?

So when friends asked me where was I in these couple of weeks, “busy with work or with date” usually were my replies.

When one of them asked, “Oh my God this guy must be so gorgeous…”
Another friend retorted, “No…”

“He must be so hunky…”
“No…” this annoying friend replied again.

“Is he nice to hang around with? To have decent conversations?”
“No…” he kept on replying.

“Extremely rich?”
“Money can’t buy me love... And besides as a career woman, I’d get my own Valextra tote (in white) in due time when I feel like it…” this time I replied.

“Maybe he’s good in bed?”
“Dunno, haven’t test-driven him”

“For this long you haven’t tested his engines?”
“Yes.. Is that supposed to be a problem?” I asked.

“So what is it that you see in him then?”
“I dunno…” said I squeezing a civilized answer.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Ooh, must be the tattoos then…” they all converged in harmony.

Well well, for beauty, umm… I mean, tattoos, are only skin deep.
I am a really really shallow person then.

At least I recently managed revealing the third drawing on his body.
Tehehehehehe...

Angel Sings

Hussein knew he shouldn’t. But he did anyway. He kissed one of his former lovers. Right. He didn’t even have any justification for doing so. But he did anyway. He didn’t have time to think about any incoming predicament later after the kiss. But kissed him, he did anyway.

Hussein would see joy glittered in his eyes. As if instant happiness struck this person. He never knew that his former lover still wanted him in his life. Smiling and watching Hussein with a loving gaze he said: “Why do you have to be so adorable?”

This was what Hussein replied:
“You know, last night I got a premonition from God Himself. He said, “Njel… Njel… (Indonesian version short from the word Angel). The world had gone mad these days. People killing other people without any remorse. People plundering the wealth of the earth without having any plan for their children’s sake in the future. Everybody seemed to be so unhappy with their lives, burdened by their problems. Financial, social, family problems that they have to deal with in daily basis. People just seemed to forget that I still exist. With this I sent you to the world to open people’s eyes that help is on the way, as long as they seek for one. With this I sent you to the world to cheer people up with your smiles and open arms”. So if you had to ask me, I am just doing what I was supposed to do…”

The other person’s smile grew wider. He seemed to be genuinely pleased.

Only to be altered with a heart wrenching sob a couple of days later when Hussein had to be honest to him.

“How do you define my being lately?”
“You’re a great person to talk to, to have intelligent conversations, and to argue about as well! In short you’re like one of my best friends”, replied Hussein.
“Is that all?”
“Mmm. I am afraid that’s all I can give you. I don’t want to make any promise in which I may not be able to keep later on”.

Without further consideration (again), about a week later, Hussein succumbed to this person’s demand for a very late night munches at a hawker somewhere in midtown. Clearly the former lover looked so pleased in meeting him. Hussein felt the same way actually. Never been happier to see this person due to many bad-date experiences lately. Conversations and banters they'd exchange. Smiles were courtly returned.

Deep inside a guilt devoured Hussein’s stomach.
“Why do I enjoy having this person so much around me whilst unsure of wanting him in my arms again…”

Unknowingly, once again he asked Hussein rhetorically,
“Why do you have to be so adorable?”

Nevertheless he replied,
“It’s my job darling. It’s my job.”

A Nidji song was playing in the background:
“Angel walks…
Angel talks…
Angel sings…”

525,600 minutes

“Five hundrend twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes.
Five hundrend twenty five thousand moments so dear.
Five hundrend twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes.
How do you measure, measure a year?”

By going to a karaoke house of course. Happy Puppy was the venue, one Mr. Fantabulous’ birthday celebration was the event. I felt like using this special event as a milestone for the life of our little club, Gang Gempal for I simply can’t believe that another year had gone by.

Having just seen Rent, the musical recently -hence the intro above- I should be grateful that none of us in the clique of friends are diagnosed with any life-threatening illness that we should be concerned about. A year had gone by since the last time I’ve seen this many friends gathered together in any occasions. The thing that I just realized was just how miss you guys, especially your individual insanity inside every single one of you.

A lot had happened within a year. While some had managed their relationships, some others are still in search for their own Mister Right. Career-wise, congrats for you who had earned your new positions at your new offices. And for you who are in between jobs hopefully in patience there will be a golden bucket at the end of the rainbow. New friends, new gangs formed and crushed day by day. Old friends however somehow are always there when you need them.

With this I’m just gonna let you guys know. That no matter how hectic schedules are, I am just gonna try my best to be there for you guys.

With this I’m just gonna say, from the bottom of my heart I am sorry for any wrong doings, any unspeakable horror that I might create, any harm, and for any reckless behavior performed that might offend any of you.

How do we indeed measure our past year together?

“In daylight? Sunsets? In midnights?
In cups of coffee? In inches? In miles?
In laughter? In strive?

Its time now to sing out
though the story never ends
lets celebrate remember a year

in the life of friends”

Miss y’all. Once again, Happy Birthday Mr. Fantabulous!

What Killed Terranosaurus Rex?

“The extreme cool air up in the mountains, the blazing coastal heat, the treacherous steep hills, the impossible off-roads, the uneven city streets: nothing is impossible for Terrano. This tough guy is in need of a constant new challenge. Fully powered and more rugged, furnished with new amenities, now Terrano is ready to accompany you to a whole new terrain, a more challenging journey ahead.

Nature inspired, Nissan Terrano, reflected your active, driven and confident personality. The strong performance will enhance your image in any situation. Impressions will last on any spectator.

No boundaries. Nothing stopped this monster. Now with a more affordable price range”.

Whoever wrote that line for Nissan was a genius. A drop of flattery here, a boost of ego there, fill-in a guy with what he wanted to hear and you got a perfect client. That was three years ago. When the floods were our eminent enemy, everybody wanted a tough vehicle that would walk on water pretending that he was Jesus. On top of that, this baby was so my type: Strong and rugged. Nothing sweet about it. No nice curves or cute bells and whistles. “And with more affordable price range!” Don’t you just love it? Just me and my Terrano. My pick-all-up truck, my security-blanket tank, my masculinity enhancer and my personal penis extension.

Those were the days when SUVs were the “it” boys of the Indonesian automotive industry. I remembered those glossy covers with reports from the lower end test drives such as Isuzu (Panther) and Toyota (Kijang), to the never-ending head to head battle of utility trucks between Opel/ Chevy/ GM (Blazer), Honda (CRV), Nissan (Terrano and X-Trail), and Ford (Escape). The market was ready even for the softer side of them with the luxury touches from BMW (X5 and X3), Range Rover (Vogue and Disco), Porsche (Cayenne), VW (Touareg), and those ultra smooth Lincoln (Navigator, insert hip-hop music here), Lexus (Lx), and Toyota (Landcruiser). Even Mercedes-Benz didn’t feel like they need to change anything on the face of their G class for almost three decades.

Then shit happened. As if the earth was hit by an astronomical size meteor, the sweet life is now officially over. Once these giants walked the surface of this planet and now their days are numbered.

Even trying to sell one of these sweet machines to the used-car market will break your heart even further. Today's prices are dropping lower and lower day by day:
1. Oil prices are extremely high today. People want a vehicle with a very cost efficient kilometer/ liter oil consumption ratio.
2. Street conditions are getting more packed with cars. They wanna have something smaller and easier to maneuver with in the tightest spaces available (esp. to park on).
3. Bank loans on auto ownerships are more available and forgiving now with attractive rates. Suddenly installing new cars in your garage became hipper than purchasing (quality) second hands.
4. Starting in early 2007, a new tax-raise will be applicable on anything that runs on a 2.0 liter and above engines. Yikes.
5. Finally people realize that image alone won’t keep your rice bowls warm on rainy days.

The above factors killed my expectation on a better price for the dark-blue devil. I will be extremely lucky if still manage to get half the price of what I spent to take this thing home that day. If this can happen to me, it will definitely kill the SUV segment soon. Yes, those gas-guzzling monsters.

With age, I hope I grew up more mature and wiser (and graceful!). Hikes on salary are very incompatible with hikes on standards of living. Ask anyone from Hanoi, KL or Manila. They’ll totally agree that living in Jakarta is already more expensive than in their hometowns. Bear with me: Spending $10 a day on gas is insane. Driving through daily traffic jams in stick-shift (manual drive) is also insane. Perceived to be someone-you-are-not behind these wheels is even worse.

Fuck image. Better break my heart now to part with this dearly beloved ogre, than to break my bank account later on.

And for the epilogue, for once I will try to blend-in with the more wiser fuel-economy conscious group. Maybe something affordable, low to maintain, low in gas consumption, but still cute to sit on. Remember to save me some for, of course, shopping and café hopping with a clique of friends. Teteupp.