Simply My Notes

Semua orang punya sarana transportasi yang dianggap unik. Jadi yang aku mau cerita sekarang adalah pengalamanku naik 3 means of transportation yang ga bisa terlupakan sampai sekarang. Well berikut ini count downnya. The memorable trip number three adalah naek kereta api choo choo choo, tapi bukan sembarang train. Ini adalah train khusus untuk mobil! Di dalam train ini, kita harus stay di mobil selama 20 menit perjalanan melintasi terowongan di dalam gunung batu di Switzerland. Ada tiga station car transporter yang ada di kanton yang namanya Valais ini, yaitu Brig, Goppenstein, dan Furka. Valais adalah kanton yang terkenal dengan daerah ski dan pegunungannya yang tinggi dan terjal. Disitulah terletak puncak Mattehorn yang terkenal itu. Nah untuk menuju daerah ini, ada beberapa jalur mobil untuk menuju daerah dekat puncak yang dibuka hanya pas summer, karena kalo pas winter cukup berbahaya karena licin dan terjal. Kami mengambil jalur Goppenstein-Kandesteg, dalam perjalanan da

After Thawaf Ifada, just in time before the crowd rushed in When people talking about hajj, I was reminded by the times I took the journey. The spiritual journey makes me longing so much to do it again. But the physical part is so exhausting, and I think it's better to give my place to other brother and sister who has never perform the hajj before. My post this time is about the physical part of the journey with the local operator. My first hajj was with local operator who is Indonesian, and the group was also consisted of Indonesian. My second one was with the real local people, meaning that it was operated by Saudi hajj operator, and the participants were local Saudis from different regions. Apparently, it was quite a large operator. I came to know this group because my teacher was one of the guide.

Queuing is about respecting people and discipline. I hate it when people cut in line. Getting a quarrel with people cutting my line back in Indonesia, was quite common for me. I don't care whether they're men or women. I just don't like my line to be cut, not a matter of PATIENCE. That's why I liked living in Europe where the discipline for queuing is higher. However sometimes it's kind of irritating in another sort of way. My mom and I was walking inside a chocolate shop in Brugge, Belgium. Noticing a line, I went straight in there. My mom was astonished with the many selection of chocolate showcased there. She was looking around gazing at the display when suddenly the shop attendant shout at her, "Get in line, please". She was startled, little bit ashamed and then joined me. She said, "I was only looking...", in awe. My poor mom.

Most Indonesian would say that a half hour delay from an appointment is still acceptable although frowned upon. While in Holland, 5-15 min is still acceptable, the Swiss wouldn't accept more than 3-5minutes delay. In Saudi, the delay can span to 24 hours. I was waiting in a hospital ward for my doctor at around 7.40, and had been waiting for about half an hour for my 7.20 appointment. A young couple came and knocked the door, few times, before came the nurse moments afterward. The couple handed her the appointment paper. As she's a Filipina she was talking to the couple in English.  Man: We are the next patient. As you can see in that sheet. Nurse: Wait here. (And she came back inside, then went back to him.) Sorry sir, you have to wait. I have the next patient waiting here (signaling at me), you will come after her. Man: what time is her appointment? Nurse : 7.20. She will come after this. She has been here before that Man: 7.20? But our appointment is 6.

Once upon a time, waaaay back then, before Jakartans have bike to work trend, a German guy whose house was in the Senopati area, prefer bike to car to go to his work. Of course, it's only a stone throw away, since his office was in SCBD area. People were staring at him on the street all the way to his office. He actually thought that they might think that he's a little crazy, from the way they looked at him. "They probably think I'm bule gila".  Well, sir, considering that you're a bule , and you go to office by bike with full attributed suit, I wasn't very surprised that people on the street would think that way. It was Jakarta after all, not Europe.  Maybe you should wait about 8-10 years, before you bike to work in Jakarta :p    But dasar " bule gila ", he still biked to his office, up until his last day there :D 

Some students rushed from the school building to another. The weather was very sunny at that mid November but very cold. And one of them couldn't stop herself from a little complaining. Indonesian: I just can't understand this, why it is sooo cold now when the sun is shining so bright!! Italian: Girl! It's called winter!

One lovely day in Paris, a group of friends of different nationalities strolled the city together. A bunch of locals rushed to a nearby spot raising questions to some of them. Argentinian (A): Where are they going? Italian (It): I think it's their market day Ar: What's market day? It: Usually there are some days of the week, where the fresh market are available. Guess today is the market day  in this area. Indonesian (In): Fresh market? Where you can buy groceries? Uugh, I hate those kinds of market, they're dirty with lots of mud on the floor and have many kinds of bad smell. It: Well, if it's rain it might have water paddle, but not mud. And it doesn't only sell groceries. Ar: (amazed): Groceries? As in fresh fruit and vegetables? I want to go there, I rarely see fresh market back in my city. Only supermarkets. In: (reluctant): Are you sure they're not muddy? It: pretty sure, it wasn't raining this morning (bit agitated). In: Well, okay, the