Saturday, 24 September 2011

Most awaited movie: "The Raid"

Alright, I'm gonna unabashedly promote this new Indonesian action movie "The Raid" (Serbuan Maut in Indonesian). No, wait, scratch that. This movie has got all the press it needs. Even Hollywood wants it. So I'm doing nothing here. Besides, I haven't actually watched it except for the trailer, which sold me in seconds.

Read other reviews here:

Alex's Toronto Review
Bloody Disgusting Review
Slashfilm Review (with 2 HD trailers)
Red and White Review (in Indonesian - with a trailer and 6 character posters)

IMDb rating: 9.0 / 10

To be honest this is not my type of genre, because fighting movies, especially the ones with heavy weaponry as opposed to traditional martial arts, usually do not have any real aesthetics---just violence, and some cursing. But when "The Raid" is released, I MUST see it. This could be one of the first Indonesian movies that, finally, get it right.

Thursday, 22 September 2011

Chipmunk face

Pictures of human paranasal sinuses used to scare the crap out of me. I simply couldn't imagine having such BIG holes scattered all over my face. Maybe this is what made me highly uninterested in learning ENT-related anatomy in the first place, and that gave me some problems in my ENT rotation. I'm sure this wouldn't have happened if only the first picture of paranasal sinuses I encountered was something like this:

That is certainly the most adorable coronal section of the face I've ever seen, unlike the stupid-looking hollowed out face that similar pictures usually portray. This one happens to cut through four front teeth of the superior dental hemi-arch, so that the final image looks like... well, a chipmunk.

Speaking about chipmunks, thanks to the fantastic team of five attendings (especially Dr. Chip (!), a brilliant but laid-back surgeon and a self-proclaimed Apple expert), I learnt pretty quickly and surprisingly a lot. Of course, I'd never dream of boasting my knowledge, though I can't help feeling rather amazed at how much you can accomplish even in a field you dislike, if you have strongly motivational peers around you.

And cute pictures also help.

Wednesday, 21 September 2011

By each hurting step

Once again, in my usual rather careless excitement, I slipped on the wet floor. I fell in a curious kneeling position, my left knee bent and thumped the wet tile, and my right foot is inversed inwards. I really, really hate it when it does that. Inverses inwards. Typically it only results in a little jolt as the sudden falling sensation triggers my reflex to readjust my body position. But not so much pain. Or even no pain at all. But today I got the worst of it. It's not a sprained ankle. It's a very annoying, button-sized hematoma on the lateral side of my right dorsum pedis, strategically located so that every time I extend or lift that foot, it hurts.

I have always take pride in my feet. They're small (EUR size 37), they look fragile, but they're quite strong. I'm able to walk miles without being easily fatigued, I run fast, and I like to hike. My feet have accompanied my journey around the world, from north to south, from east to west, from the highest of mountains to the deepest of jungles. I have climbed stairs, ladders, bunk beds, trees, hills, sand dunes, horses, all impossible without the help of my feet. The problem is, my heart often runs ahead of my feet, and I almost always need my mum or other people to remind me to be careful. Of course, in my pride, I tend to let that warning just float by. Besides, I can take care of myself!

But even my feet are not invincible. I am not invincible. As I walked the rest of today, limping, I discovered the sickly feeling of being slow and powerless. People who walk ever so slowly while being busy with their phones annoy me. And yet here I am, unable to take my strides steadily without grimacing. This is the kind of pain you experience when you realize that the world still goes on without you. That when you disappear, there will be very few people who notice. That when fate strikes you, you can be thrown off and left in the dust. I felt somewhat humbled when I had to hire an umbrella kid and that cheerful little fella had to slow down for me. Poor me and my right foot. And rain continued to wash the earth.

So many other things, too, must slow down or stop. I got very frustrated, because I knew I could have done a lot more. Today I didn't get to scan a picture for my friend, send two important e-mails, and do some reading for upcoming exam. Today I only accomplished one case report and one blog entry, and also some frantic messages to and from my mum and dad who, as always, got more panicked about me than I did (is that how I'm gonna be when I become a parent?).

And then there are things that do not change. I got tagged in a Facebook photo and as a result, endless comments about the photo (which is not of myself) filled up my notifications. They were all good-natured and happy, but in my condition, they became far from pleasing. Meanwhile, a friend kept sending me messages, intending to spark a conversation. Exam will still be held the next two days. The sun still sets. The food catering still sends dinners to everybody. Tom & Jerry still plays on TV. Foot is still swollen.

I don't like being slow, or being slowed down. It's such an alien idea to my very existence. I always want to be speedy, effective, efficient. By each hurting step, I am reminded that, while pride is good for confidence, extreme self-importance can be destructive. When one of our supportive legs is broken, either literally or figuratively, we might find ourselves robbed of our prominence. Are we even that great to begin with?

Saturday, 17 September 2011

Journey - "Don't Stop Believing"

This song has been dominating my head lately.

And of course, the Glee version; they are the one who introduced me to the song in the first place.

Monday, 12 September 2011

Mini heart attack (thank you, ENT)

The ENT rotation is supposed to last for 5 weeks.


Then the Islamic Eid holiday took over the second week. Which means a week off plus ketupat and sleeping all day! *grins*

Then began the new week.

And the ultimate question in our heads was: did we get an extension to replace the one week lost? We speculated among ourselves that yes we did (and we should, shouldn't we??).

But now it looks like the answer is no. So right now we are already well into our 4th week, NOT 3rd week, and obviously we really need to... err, start studying. You know, to make sure that we know more than otitis media and epistaxis.

(Actually, I had wished for this in the hope that the overall clerkship time would not be longer than planned. Lesson learned: Be careful of what you wish for, because it might come true.)

Saturday, 10 September 2011

Bangsaku, negeriku

Katanya, orang harus bangga pada bangsa sendiri.

Katanya, orang harus bangga pada negeri sendiri.

Nasionalisme. Patriotisme. Kata-kata agung yang kerap didengungkan terutama menjelang perayaan kemerdekaan. Kata-kata yang pernah ditakuti. Kata-kata yang kini terdengar naif.

Mengapa naif?

Karena setiap kali saya menyinggung mengenai keinginan untuk memajukan bangsa, atau mengharumkan nama bangsa, atau memamerkan kekayaan budaya bangsa, biasanya reaksi yang saya dengar hanyalah cibiran, pandangan mengasihani, dan gelengan kepala.

Hare gene mikirin bangsa.

Begitu terpuruknyakah kita? Bukankah dasar sumur pun masih mendapat cahaya matahari betapapun jauhnya ia di atas sana? Atau mungkin saya telah menanyai orang yang salah? Karena jujur saja, kebanyakan jawaban demikian keluar dari mulut orang-orang minoritas. Berbagai alasan dikemukakan: minoritas tidak dihargai, minoritas tidak mungkin berprestasi, minoritas tidak layak berkarya. Jadi sebaiknya menetap saja di tanah asing dan melupakan segala identitas ke-Indonesia-an kita.

Inferiority complex.

Tetapi izinkan saya bertanya: bangsa apa yang kita sebut "bangsa saya"? Negeri apa yang kita sebut "negeri saya"? Apakah menjadi jaminan bahwa kita akan langsung melebur di tanah asing daripada di negeri sendiri? Bukankah dengan melanglang ke seberang lautan berarti kita semakin memperjelas identitas kita sebagai "orang asing", dan kemungkinan besar, "minoritas"?

Di zaman globalisasi ini, batas-batas telah mengabur. Anak-anak hasil perkawinan antar-ras ada di mana-mana. Anak-anak ini adalah warga dunia, namun anehnya, seringkali mereka bukanlah warga negara manapun. Ambil contoh saya. Mungkin ada orang "asli Indonesia" yang menganggap saya tidak cukup Indonesia. Tetapi jika saya kembali ke tanah kelahiran ayah saya pun, orang-orang sana tidak akan menganggap saya penduduk lokal. Apalagi jika saya pergi ke negeri di mana saya tidak memiliki hubungan darah sama sekali.

Saya pikir, nasionalisme adalah mengenai pilihan. Toh nasionalisme atau patriotisme itu salah satu bentuk cinta. Cinta negara, cinta tanah air, cinta bangsa. Dan cinta adalah urusan kehendak bebas. Saya telah memilih bahwa di manapun saya akan hidup, tinggal, dan berkarya nantinya, hati saya akan selalu Indonesia. Darah saya akan selalu berdesir jika nama Indonesia dipuja. Saya tidak mengandalkan hubungan darah atau takdir yang menyurati di mana saya waktu itu dilahirkan.

Saya mengandalkan pilihan secara sadar. Ini bukan persoalan politik. Ini masalah cinta.