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Latest on Sat, 08:47 am

jerry van den brink (colson): @ Finally Woken: Am I happy with Kris? The answer is here: http://www.pelopor.nl/2010/kris/. And, well I admit I'm slightly prejudiced, still everybody present can [...]

Finally Woken: Hey Colson, just drop by to say hi. Hope you enjoy the newcomer of the family. Heard he's a big 1 month-old boy now!

Colson: Harry, Great. It took some ( well, eh, a lot of) time because the problem didn't show itself here. But I'm glad that [...]

H.Nizam: Hi Colson, It's morning here, and I am writing at my office's computer. No problem so far. But I haven't check your Soto Betawi blog. Later [...]

jerry van den brink (colson): Calvin, Thanks for checking out. Being the 100% layman I am, I once more will pass onthe problem to our chief engineer in charge: Pelopor/Ingmar..

calvin: Colson, I have visited the sotobetawi, is it only just me but there is an error/bug in design? The site is not centered. the blog [...]

jerry van den brink( colson): Harry, Thanks for the reassuring feedback.

H.Nizam: At last, I am now able to open your interesting blog at my office.

jerry van den brink (colson): @ Harry and Calvin: Thanks guys. And if you keep on having trouble opening this page, please try http://www.soto-betawi.com/. If that is better, let me [...]

H.Nizam: Hey, the new chat box looks cool. Congrats!

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By N2H

Understanding women

WOMAN’S POEM

Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man, who’s not a creep,
One who’s handsome, smart and strong.
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who’ll call, not wait for weeks.
I pray he’s gainfully employed,
When I spend his cash, won’t be annoyed.
Pulls out my chair and opens my door,
Massages my back and begs to do more.
Oh! Send me a man who’ll make love to my mind,
Knows what to answer to “how big is my behind?”
I pray that this man will love me to no end,
And always be my very best friend.

(Lily Tomlin)

Opzij” is a feminist magazine. For an extended period of time it used a yardstick for measuring the emancipation of famous men; do they contribute a fair share in housekeeping, do they spend as much time at the kids as the mother does,  do they factually provide women equal  chances in the workplace etc.  I’m not famous and never been interviewed by one of their journalists, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t have passed the test.  Yet I  do sympathize with feminism. I do understand women on the subject of gender equality. And I do have the sense of guilt. Because, well, like John Lennon said and sang, we men have done them wrong:

However I hope, I guess, I think  something has changed since ‘72. Not enough though.  Even in 2010 women on average do earn  less than men do for  the same job. Women still are a small minority at the top of enterprises, universities or public administration. Let alone amongst the religious leadership.  But as imperfect the situation is here, as a matter of fact this article triggered me. It is called “Indonesian women in their own words”. It’s kind of a sketchy state of the union regarding the position of women.Reading the article

- I nodded with indignation when one of the interviewed women said that though officially men and women are equal under Indonesian law, over 140 bylaws are discriminitary against women
- I felt very sorry when an other one concluded that women still are lagging way behind men if it comes to access to and participation in centers of power
- I experienced a wave of sympathy when a third interviewee told that at the cost of free choice women are under severe social pressure to marry and have a family in their late twenties and earlie thirties
- I wondered how it could be possible in 2010 when one of the ladies stated that especially in parts of Indonesia like Aceh, women by shere ignorance or at least by being ill informed, endorse male oppression
- and I was really disappointed when I read there still is hardly any room for publicly living the deviant lifestyle of a lesbian.

In spite of the still existing inequality I guess the empowered girls and women of the growing middle classes will win the battle.  The eight young women who were interviewed for this article are proof of that.  And they have to. If only for the interest of Indonesian society at large  this huge human potential should be used. Men should emancipate and further equal opportunities and equal rights to women.

To understand and agree with that is the easy part.  I am an amateur supporter of feminism who is glad each time he meets or read a self-confident , ambitious, independent women.  Their struggle to achieve a society with gender equality is just a matter of plain justice.

It is much more difficult to understand the female psyche. I, well we,  often don’t understand them. Man and woman living together usually are a guarantee for a festival of misunderstandings. For instance: even after fifty years my own wife still amazes and puzzles me. Women are wonderful. But they are an enigmatic miracle to me too. To most men, I think.  To Mars Venus is enigmatic.  It is part of the fun of course. But  I sometimes ponder on some of the  mysteries the opposite sex  offers.

For instance:

* It’s no secret men on average are about 17% physically stronger. The real secret is why  life expectancy of the weaker sex is considerably higher. Why is that? Do they know – and don’t tell us- where to find  life elixer?

* Men have 10% bigger brains.  Also a well established fact. So why don’t we outwit them?  Generally speaking women are no less intelligent and usually are significantly smarter. So I suspect them of knowing a trick  they hide. Anyhow they use  their intellect in a much more efficient way.

* People have a row sometimes. In that case men tend to curse. And they even may get violent. But most of the time they have a cordial drink soon afterwards. Catfights are different.  Less or no violence, but the nagging can´t be stopped easily. Is that because the switch off is missing in the female system?  Though I extensively explored the surface of one of those systems I couldn’t find one to stop whining.

* Life is a vale of tears now and then. Most of us at some stage of life  feel blue and depressed. For men it often is an excuse to neglect personal hygiene and start drinking. In the end they smell and look the way they feel. There is no salvation anymore.  Sensible women – most women are sensible-  in similar conditions do avoid these pitfalls. They turn to shopping.  To more shopping. That’s expensive and irresponsible behavior perhaps. But it also is improving one’s appearances. In that way they cure themselves without even having seen a shrink. Do they have a lucky gene to love clothes and shoes better than football?

* Men seem to be more  prone to some ASD ( autism spectrum disorders) and less inclined to romance. Women  in my perception cherish romance. That may be why they occasionally seem to think that by a gift and charm a guy shows long term affection. Actually it  probably is short term interest only. But women can be lured by their heart and  what it want to believe.  It may explain why some girls keep falling for same wrong kind of men  for the same wrong reasons – they are too romantic.

Having this kind of questions is  worrying at my age. They probably also show why I would have failed the “Opzij test” of emancipation. Though there is some consolation in the fact even Sigmund Freud at the end of a lifetime studying the psychology of women, asked  “Was will das Weib?” (What does the Female want?). That’s poor comfort however.   My time is running out. So I really have to hurry if I would want to really understand them.

Or  let’s advocate feminism and accept the fact women will stay a desirable engima to me.

A Tale of Two Cities

040513_BMZ_IMO01.jpgskyline-den-haagFor all our differences Indonesians and Dutchmen have one thing in common: political turmoil.

The Indonesian head of state, government and parliament reside in Jakarta. In The Netherlands it’s counterpart is Den Haag ( The Hague). Both cities caused huge political headaches yesterday; in the RI and in Holland political  systems have been severely damaged last Wednesday.

In Jakarta good guys like Bakrie and Prabowo decided – after organizing a majority in parliament- that Sri Mulyani and Boediono took part in an illegal bailout operation. These dinosaurs have succeeded in undermining a stable government. At least they have been weakening SBY’s position. Even KPK is about to turn to the two pillars of good governance.

Continue reading A Tale of Two Cities

Bandung and the Big Freeze

sleet

Day after day I visit MetroTVNews’ “Indonesia This Morning“. It is a convenient source of information because it  provides news on Indonesia in English. For the love of absurdity I’m a fan of the beautiful lady who presents the daily weatherforecast with charm. It is a standard  item about rainshowers and temperatures between 26 and 34 degrees Celcius in Jakarta. 365 times a year. Okay, sometimes the amount of rain  tomorrow may be slightlty different from today – heavy showers in stead of occasional showers for instance. And the temperatures sometimes are ranging between 24 and 32.  Nevertheless the tropics are the tropics are the tropics. So on average no surprises here; you get what you expect. You can rely on that. Though you wouldn’t expect it in a newsreel of course – because that usually is about news.

Continue reading Bandung and the Big Freeze

Looking for the best job?

Long, long ago I wanted to be a mercantile marine’s chief. That plan was less than brilliant – I happen to  suffer badly from seasickness.  Later on I thought journalism was my destiny. Romantic idea.  Way too romantic. After University it turned out quite different of course: I became a bloody management consultant.  Someone like that George Clooney Character in “Up in the Air” :

Correction. No,  I wasn’t that kind of nasty downsizer actually.  Firing people wasn’t to be avoided always, yet most of the time being management consultant was a pretty peaceful pastime. Though not at all my juvenile Utopia of  ‘life fast, die young and have a good looking corpse’. In stead a lot of friendship and fun.  Still I have to admit  that management consultants, managers and bankers are doubtlessly the worst plagues of modern mankind. You see I’ve got  rather ambiguous memories of the profession.

So in hindsight I admit I may have made the wrong choice.  Still to me, having retired now,  regret is no useful option. Let bygones be bygones.   However if you still  are at a crossroad in your career and you are a sensible person looking for employment without too much stress, low physical demands and reasonable earnings, look here . And try and apply for any of these jobs because they objectively  suit you best:

Continue reading Looking for the best job?

Indonesian food or how I got addicted

Mention Japan, France or Italy and you mention  excellent food. It ’s part of their national identity.

I’m not much of an expert, connoisseur or gourmet. Two or three times I’ve dined at a restaurant boasting two or three Michelin stars and the remaining memory  is one of tiny portions and huge bills only. No,  I am no fast food fool either, nor am I that vulgar that I ever will envy those who have Champagne and caviar for breakfast. Actually, after all these years I still love my mothers’ cuisine best. My taste hasn’t improved much since her great boerenkool, zuurkool, stamppot or erwtensoep . With only one major exception.

The first time I tasted Indonesian food was at a friend’s parents’ dinner table in the fifties. The Kok family was fresh from Nederlands Oost Indië/ Republik Indonesia, hospitable and kind. I was flabbergasted by the wealth of food  their rijsttafel was composed of. Being twelve or thirteen at the time I wanted to try everything. I guess that was what they had been waiting for: on the  sight of me having tears running down my cheeks the moment I unsuspectingly swallowed big chunks of spicy meat, they almost choked. Yet I was hooked. To rijsttafel. Mind you: it isn’t even real Indonesian. But it definitely  was the start of a love affair.

Continue reading Indonesian food or how I got addicted

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