The History in the Night Sky

This is a speech I made for our speaking class at STBA LIA Yogyakarta. It is an example of an informative speech. We were free to choose whatever topic we liked. I chose to talk about one of my favorite subjects: the universe.

I hope it can be a satisfactory example for those who need to make a semi-formal informative speech in English.

The History in the Night Sky

Imagine a typical date held outdoors at night. The boyfriend says, “Look at the sky”. The girlfriend looks at the black canvas decorated with millions of blinking lights. “It is beautiful,” she says. Romantic, right?

How many of you have ever been in this situation? If not, I believe all of you have seen what the sky looks like on a clear night, when the stars are scattered everywhere. However, as you were admiring their beauty, did you ever think about what the stars really are? Did the science behind their existence strike you at all?

In this opportunity, I would like to tell you about the amazing scientific and philosophical fact behind the beauty of the stars. Don’t get bored yet! Stay with me. I promise you it will be interesting (I hope).

I will deliver three major points: 1) What stars are, 2) Where they are in the universe 3) The light-year concept.

Firstly, what is a star? A human being on earth gazing at the night sky would see a tiny, blinking dot in the night sky. However, in the universe, that pretty speck is actually a gigantic ball of gas floating far, far away in our infinitely large universe. The closest star to earth is actually our sun. It is the center of our solar system. It is the miracle that gives the earth life.

Secondly, where are they in our universe? To get a brief glimpse of how far stars are, lets us start with our sun. Most of the time, we don’t think of our sun as a star because, to our eyes, it is this giant ball that we can see on the horizon at dawn or sunset. The other stars are tiny blinking lights. This is because, compared to other stars, our sun is very, very, very close to earth. The sun is 150,000,000km away from our earth. Meanwhile, the closest star to our solar system is Alpha Centauri, which is about 4 light-years away.

Thirdly, what is a light-year? Very literally, it is the distance light travels in a year. To grasp just how extraordinarily vast this is, let’s remind ourselves how fast light travels. The speed of light in a vacuum (c) is 299,792,458m/s. It is approximately 300,000km/s. Now, sunlight takes about 8 minutes and 17 seconds to travel the average distance from the surface of the earth. This value is achieved by dividing 150,000,000km by approximately 300,000km. The result is the value in seconds, so about 500 seconds. Since there are 60 seconds in a minute, divide 500 by 60. This is about 8 minutes and more. So, when you wake up at dawn and you see the first rays of sunlight, realize that the sun sent those rays to you 8 minutes ago and it had to wait 8 minutes for you to wake up and feel it.

So, can you get any idea how far is a light-year? There are 60 seconds in a minute, 3600 seconds in an hour, 86,400 seconds in a 24-hour day, and 31,536,000 seconds in 365 days or a year. Now, multiply that by the distance at which light travels in a second (300,000km/s). You get 9,460,800,000,000km. That is the distance light travels in a year. You can go round and round the earth at current humanely possible speeds for a hundred years and you will barely cover that distance.

Now, most stars are light-years away – light “years”. There is an “s” there which means more than one year. The closest star to us, Alpha Centauri, is about 4 light-years away. So, it is 9,460,800,000,000km times 4. The result? Very, very, very far away. Airplanes today travel at thousands of km per hour. Rockets cover probably tens to hundreds of thousands km per hour. It is like the speed of a very slow snail compared to the speed of light. But even if man managed to build a vehicle that could travel at the speed of light, it would take a human being 4 years just to reach Alpha Centauri.

Here on earth, Alpha Centari is a really bright star. However, that star sent you light four years ago for you to be able to see it tonight. It is like receiving a letter from your beautiful girlfriend or boyfriend who lives so far away that it takes 4 years for the mailman to give it to you. So the letter you get today was made 4 years ago. Talk about a long-distance relationship.

Again, most stars are light-years away. Some are even millions of light-years away. The average human lives for 60-80 years on earth. If a star is 1,000,000 light-years away, light had to travel 1,000,000 years to reach you. The view of the star you get today is the view of the star 1,000,000 years ago.

I’ll give you a moment for this to really sink in.

By looking at the night sky, we can see the past. We see what the sky was years ago. We travel back in time without moving. Meanwhile, the condition of the stars right now is something we cannot see yet. Actually, it is already happening, and we do not know it is. We can’t see it happening now, but we may see it in the future. The future is already happening somewhere in the universe.

More interestingly, a star can be born and another star can die. What if a star somewhere in the heavens just died? However, because it is 100 light-years away, we can’t see it die. In the view from earth, it hasn’t disappeared from the sky yet. As humans on earth, we can still admire its light which was sent 100 years ago. We can still see it twinkling in the sky until the day we die, and we will never see it fade away and disappear.

I want to quote my source, Fajri Matahati M., who used to study Physics at UGM: “What if life is not a four-dimensional stream, flowing from start to end? What if everything is one eternal timeless movement, where all time and space overlaps? Is the future already happening now? Is the past still happening?”

He calls the dead stars “real ghosts” because the start seen at night might have died already. “So what you see is a mere imprint. Imagine that”.

What we see in the night sky is actually history. We see stories of the stars from the past. We travel through time with one look, and we might have never realized it.

We may never grasp how extraordinary, how infinite, and how mysterious the universe is. However, we can prove that God is indeed the Divine for creating it. Think of how much love was put into it. The sun got up 8 minutes earlier than you so it could say hello to you each morning. Millions of stars were made and they had to be born so many years ago so they could wink merrily at you tonight, and some of them keep on twinkling, even years after they pass away. They wait patiently to reach you and they are there for you even when they are gone. To me, that is romantic. That’s true love.

I hope these facts can benefit you in some way. At least, you will look at the sky differently, and maybe send Him a compliment or two.

As an end to this speech I would like to quote my favorite scientist, Albert Einstein:

“Watch the stars, and from them learn. To the Master’s honor all must turn, each in its track, without a sound, forever tracing Newton’s ground.”

Thank you for your attention.

Ramblings #1: Suffocating

- Friday night at a café

Suffocating.

It’s hard to breathe and keep calm. Mainstream faces and voices crowd the area. Smoke, shrill laughter, painted faces everywhere.

Trivial talks. Meaningless conversations. Fake expressions. Selfies vainly taken.

Under-appreciated entertainment playing in the background.

Unfinished food. Money carelessly spent.

 

Such worldly pleasures are too easy to come across.

A Reflection of the Article: Half of World’s Languages in Danger of Extinction

Michael Krauss, from the University of Atlanta, argues for the preservation of the native tongues that exist around the world as mankind’s linguistic diversity. Currently, they are under the mercy of technology which, on the other hand, drives the need for languages that many understand. Common languages such as English, Arabic, and Spanish do enable people to communicate easily – at the cost of the small languages. Krauss says that most of the world’s languages are no longer being learned by children. He also says that they are “beyond endangerment” and becoming “the living dead”. Even the United States, most significantly in California as the world’s third most linguistically diverse region, is losing languages fast. However, many of the small languages that are on the verge of dying out are in the tropical parts of the world, especially Africa and Indonesia.

As a person who lives in Indonesia, which has thousands of small languages scattered across the archipelago, I must worry about this “language extinction”. We Indonesians consider our languages as part of our rich and diverse culture. It is a heritage that we must protect. It is my relief to witness languages such as Javanese and Balinese still spoken in their respectful areas. The language of my hometown, Sasakese, is still frequently used by my people. Some schools still include the study of the language in their curriculum. There is our own common Sasakese for regular interaction, and there is the more restricted and polite form that we are supposed to use with elders.

I honestly do not know whether all the old languages in Indonesia still exist. However, after reading this article, I am quite certain that probably half of them have disappeared. The least we can do is protect the existence of our own unique language and hope that it does not enter the void of nothingness, like many others have, taunting us about the multiplicity of linguistic intelligence that once was.

*A one-page summary plus personal review I made for an article we read for the Reading IV class at STBA LIA Yogyakarta.

Loving Language

For a long time, I’ve wanted to dedicate a post to the English language – something I am currently studying at a college in Yogyakarta. However, as usual, laziness and distraction conquered all and this task was put on the forsaken, monstrous pile of pending tasks. Fortunately, after a long holiday, utter boredom and an urge to make myself somewhat useful (and reanimated) have pushed me enough to bash-up my alibies and do this. I don’t know if I will do this post justice since I haven’t written something original in what seems like a century, but I have to jot down the words that have been swarming in my head or I’ll have to succumb to agitation.

*My desktop. Do not attempt to conclude the purpose of each note, or decipher the method of organization used. LOL

Okay, so talking about actually studying language formally with its branches of literature and linguistics. Why would anyone want to study it? Don’t we already know it from practice? Is it even useful in a practical way? I will try to answer these questions one-by-one.

When I was young, I was given the privilege to study abroad, in a public school in Australia called Gwynneville Public School (refer to the post My School Homework). The years I spent going to that school were some of the best years in my life. I just loved the learning process within the education system that I was lucky enough to witness and experience. To explain it all would take maybe over 100 pages, so I will recount the thing that is most relevant to this post.

I remember that almost every day, from year 4 until 6, my classmates and I were encouraged to read and write as much as we could. There were these “book-review” sessions where every one of us was required to present the book we had finished reading in front of the class and answer everyone’s questions about it. If we did a good job, we would get a merit certificate or at least a sticker on our work books. At other times, we were told to write stories. More often than not, the theme wasn’t specified by the teacher. We were free to write about anything we wanted. Thus, I was introduced to the written world of fantasy, mystery, and adventure.

My teachers were very kind to me. I would like to mention a certain Mr. Dwyer, who was so appreciative of my ideas, however outrageous they were. Once, he read my work out loud in class, acknowledging my different way of beginning a story. As a 10-year-old kid, I felt so overwhelmingly proud of myself. I still remember that moment very clearly.

My classmates and I were also introduced to a very methodical process of writing and publishing our stories. Firstly, we were told to write our stories in our draft books. After we had finished writing them, we had to bring them up to our teacher to be checked and marked. We had to stand by the table patiently while our teacher checked our draft for any spelling and grammar mistakes. This activity reminds me of a teacher named Mrs. Hunt. I loved her for many things. She was strict but caring. She always wore these neat suits, which she had in many colors and varying styles. Her blond hair was cut short and not a hair was ever out of place. Her nails were always beautifully manicured, and her nail polish was a different color every week. I would get pleasantly distracted by her pretty nails every time she checked my work. Fortunately, I took care to check it before I submitted it to her so there were few mistakes. When she did find mistakes, however, she was very kind about them, and she corrected them in a way I would understand. I would realize my mistakes, understand why they happened, and know how to correct them. I think this is something crucial in any child’s learning process, including in their fundamental understanding of language.

After being checked, our work was ready for publishing. This meant we had to re-write our stories neatly on a piece of paper and decorate it with illustrations. Our teachers encouraged creativity and gave credit for extra effort. Since I also loved art, this was something I thoroughly enjoyed. Even so, I would take more time to finish publishing my work compared to my classmates because I liked to make long stories. Frequently, my writings were so long that my teacher would realize that it would take a long time for me to rewrite it. This happened a lot in Mr. Dwyer’s creative writing class when I was in the 5^th grade. Very kindly, he would let me type my work using one of the computers in the classroom. Sometimes he would actually type it for me because we had to start working on another story.

At the end of the year, Mr. Dwyer gave me full acknowledgement for my hard work in his class by giving me a special certificate of achievement, presented during our final assembly in front of all the students, teachers, and parents who came to the event. I cannot express how happy I was to receive the award on stage. Maybe it meant more because I was a foreigner in that country and I felt like I needed to be acknowledged. Maybe I wanted to prove my worth to all the bullies who had given me a hard time for being who I was. Maybe it was because my parents were there and I wanted to make them proud of me. Whatever the reason really was, as I stood on the stage with the other students who had received awards, I allowed myself to indulge in the short moment of applause and admiration. It was at that moment that I knew I wanted to be an educator, like Mrs. Hunt and Mr. Dwyer. I wanted to study the English language (since that is the language of my childhood) and write stories for the rest of my life.

*My graduation certificate, as you can see. They used the shorter version of my name. That’s another story.

During my high school years, most of which I spent in Indonesia, I couldn’t really cultivate my English skills. I was too busy with catching up with challenging and demanding subjects like science and math so I could graduate with satisfying results. Don’t get me wrong. I love math and science. Unfortunately, they are the kind of subjects that don’t leave time for anything else – well, at least that’s how it was for me. Luckily, there was a teacher who gave interest in my passion for writing in English. He was my English teacher, Mr. Arsyad who I call “Pak Guru” until now. He gave me a lot of books, including The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Nancy Drew series. I have always loved the old classics since I first read Little Women when I was in the 5^th grade, so his gifts made me very happy. He also taught me a lot about how to be a good teacher and, indirectly, a good person. He was, of course, exceptional in English and he developed many creative ways in teaching it. He was (and, I believe, still is) a religious man and he reflected that consistently in every aspect of his life. He could always slip an ayat or two in every wise thing that he said to us in class after he told us an interesting story. He had a great sense of humor, so his passion for Islam was not disconcerting for me, at least, as a student who knew so little about religion at that time. He was a role model for me, and he greatly influenced my concept of an ideal teacher.

I took a rather complicated turn when I went to college. As my own small effort to regard to my family’s financial condition, I chose to go to STAN which is quite a prestigious state college which promises a full scholarship for tuition and guarantees a stable job in the Ministry of Finance. Quite a long way from studying literature, no? I, in search of a better word, coped with the subjects I had to learn. Consequently, they went by without much of an impression. I just wasn’t very interested in them. Extracurricular activities saved me from absolute boredom. I joined the English Club and learnt how to debate. I became fascinated with it, regarding it as an art of both logic and spoken language. I also joined a literature club called AKSARA. Even though we mainly discussed literature that existed in the Indonesian language, I learnt a lot about literature itself from the other members. From both clubs, I made friends with a lot of incredible people with outstanding minds and vibrant personalities. They became my teachers of literature, in a way. As I observed them, I found my inspiration in them. Therefore, I was never short of ideas for my writings. However, in my last semester at that college, an unfortunate event occurred. Someone broke into my place and stole many items. Among them was my laptop. I was stupid enough not to have made any back-ups, so gone forever was the diary I had kept from childhood. Gone were the poems, the short stories, and the in-progress novels. After that, I gave up on writing for quite a while as I mourned for my loss. It was like a piece of my soul had been stolen and there was nothing I could do to get it back.

*The only photo I have of my first laptop – the laptop that was stolen.

I retired from writing anything original for a long time. My job was my main focus and, honestly, making money was frankly the main motive. There is not much to write about it since I have discussed it in previous posts (refer to the post Why I Chose English Literature: Clarification and Confession). I coped with it for a year before quitting. I decided that it was now or never. I had to pursue something I believed in, something I had passion for.

So here I am, writing to you at home, while I am on holiday after my fourth semester at my beloved campus, STBA LIA Yogyakarta. I can’t help loving my major more and more every semester as I am introduced to new subjects. In my first semester, I was privileged to experience “Introduction to Linguistics”, taught by a lecturer named Ms. Emmie. She taught us about the many subfields of linguistics, including phonetics (the study of speech sounds), phonology (the study of the sound system in a language), syntax (the study of how sentences are constructed from smaller units called constituents), and semantics (the study of the meaning of words). I could go on and on about what she taught us, especially after following her phonology and syntax class this last semester. Basically, even though the tests were reasonably difficult (I am bad at memorizing things), she made me uncover many dimensions of language from her classes. I learnt that language is both physical and abstract. Most of us speak the way we do and don’t know why because it is both intuitive and unconscious. We can learn how we acquire that knowledge through the study of psycholinguistics and understand the socio-cultural properties of a language by studying anthropological linguistics and sociolinguistics. Our language is both arbitrary and systematic, and was born through social convention which occurred long, long ago, at the time of our ancient ancestors… How is all that not fascinating? I officially became a linguistics geek.

In my last semester, another lecturer called Ms. Tetty introduced us to the product of language created by the brilliance of mankind: literature. She asked us a fundamental question: why study literature? Our answers would go as far as “because we want to teach English”, “because we just like English”, or “because we want to know more about literature”. She answered this question by discussing the basic characteristics of literature, on how it encompasses works with artistic value. Literature gives us a glimpse into the writers mind and, through history, tells us about what we humans are like. It gives us an understanding about human interactions and how existing social conventions affect them. Thus, the purpose of literature is not just for the obvious entertainment, but also for knowledge. This includes knowledge of the art of literature itself, but also from the meaningful content of literature, including certain moral values that exist in life. So, although people might question the practical side of learning about literature, they might not realize that literature will affect the way we think. That, of course, affects the way we act. So, in the name of science and technology, humans may invent all kinds of tools for the benefit of mankind. However, if humans don’t comprehend themselves, these inventions will just become objects with little meaning and worse, if they are misused.

After attending her enlightening lectures, Ms. Tetty gave me a new perspective about literature I might not have discovered on my own. Furthermore, she was supportive about my growing interest, and lent me another classic to store in my mental library entitled The Scarlet Letter. How could I not be more encouraged to learn?

I am inspired and motivated by practically all of my lecturers at my current campus. Ms. Ontje gives me direct motivation because of her motherly care and fiery spirit in supporting our student organizations. Mr. Agus, our campus director, inspires me with his passion for teaching English and making English “an epidemic” at campus. Mr. Widi awes me with his unique teaching methods, high sense of humor, and philosophical beliefs. Ms. Hilaria, Ms. Ririn, and Ms. Rini dazzle me with their youthful spirit and cheerful nature which enables them to truly connect with their students. Ms. Nunuk, Miss Hesti, and Ms. Ismi touch me with their gentleness and thoughtfulness in teaching their subjects. Ms. Rena and Ms. Imelda fascinate me with their creativity and talents in addition to teaching.

My family, my friends at campus, and the clubs I am currently active are also so extraordinary in so many ways. I may have to dedicate a separate post to describe how meaningful they are and how they support me because there are just too many things to say (another addition to the pending tasks list).

*Me and among the few most awesome people ever (that’s also another pending story)

*Beloved members of English Club, STBA LIA Yogyakarta

I consider myself very lucky to be surrounded by so many awesome people. In one way or another, directly or indirectly, they support me in pursuing my passion which is English. Whenever I get bored, tired, or frustrated with a subject, at least one of them is around to encourage me – or give me kick to get back on track.

Have I not answered all the questions above? In doing so, have I not expressed how much I love the English language?

It is a wonderful to finally feel like I am in my zone; where I am really supposed to be. I embrace the prospect of learning something new about the English language every day. I can’t wait to make my thesis and present my findings. I am willing to explore the many possible occupations for an English enthusiast, whether it is teaching, interpreting, writing, or even, hopefully, researching. I mean to excel in this major, whatever the difficulties, and do the extraordinary.

Ms. Ontje once asked us in class: “Do you love English? Are you sure you really love English?”

At that time, I could only answer “maybe”.

Today, I can proudly say “I do”.

Between My Place and My Home

I’m writing this post in the living room of our house in Malaysia. That means a lot of things: the exams are over, the holidays are here, a stable internet connection is available, I have finished my chores (or I am running away from doing any more), and I am not too sleepy to go back to sleep after breakfast. I’m sorry that I have started this post with unimportant reports but I really want to write a post and keep this blog alive but I don’t know why I can’t write any good-sounding sentences (goods-sounding… what a pathetic attempt at providing an acceptable adjective phrase). Nevertheless, I am as sarcastic and cynical as ever,and that is enough to keep me going and look away from my current incompetency in producing words.

Anyway, below is another attempt to provide people with a reasonable reference for making articles. It is a “comparison and contrast” type of article. Again, I had to choose a topic from a given list and again I chose something that would free me from too much research (*wicked laugh*). Well, I sure hope it helps!

Between My Place and My Home

Every person growing up has to leave the nest at one point in their life. Their independence needs to be tested by letting them seek a temporary nest of their own and learn to manage it. That is what happened to me. In order to chase my dreams, I had to leave home a few years ago as I finally “came of age”. Currently, I am still studying at a university, going back and forth from school to work, and finally going back to my place in the evenings. My place, which is actually a house I am renting, is certainly different from my house back in my hometown, where my family is.

For one thing, food is not always available at my place. I might have a snack or two somewhere in my cupboard and a can of soft drink in the fridge, but that’s it. I have to buy a larger meal before I go home if I don’t want to go to sleep hungry. In contrast, at home, food is always available on the dinner table and in the fridge. Mom loves to cook. At the least, she always makes sure her family eats three meals a day and she does this by cooking morning until noon. My brothers and sisters and I wake up to the smell of a delicious breakfast being prepared. However, in my current domicile, my alarm clock is the only thing that greets me when I wake up. I rarely eat breakfast there because I don’t have time to prepare it. Therefore, I don’t stock up on ingredients for cooking. The best I can do is boil water for instant oatmeal.

Secondly, I try to keep my place clean, but it is not always so. I sweep the floor every day, do my laundry, and wash the dishes, but that is the most I can do on a daily basis. I clean the bathroom and mop the floor almost every week. However, when I am especially busy, bigger chores are neglected. Therefore, it isn’t always a comfortable place to be in. On the other hand, our house back at our hometown is always clean. My parents are very strict about cleanliness. The floors are swept and mopped almost every day. The bathroom is never dirty. Even the furniture is dusted and polished regularly. Everything is fresh and pleasant.

Lastly, my current residence lacks the warmth my home has. It is a facility which suits its purpose: a place to study and a place to rest after a long day (read: sleep). Other than that, it is just an empty structure on a tiny patch of earth. It is a very quiet place and often deserted since no other human is living there except for me and my brother – and we are rarely at home. In contrast, home is always bustling with everyone’s daily activities. Mom is cooking, Dad is tending the garden, my little brother is playing with his toys, my sister is putting on her make up, and I am usually watching TV (maybe that doesn’t count as busy). It is a busy environment and sometimes it is too noisy to study. However, it is warm and wonderful. I guess that is why it is called home.

In conclusion, living in a rented house is far from pleasant, if you compare it to home. Home is full of the pleasures many people take for granted. However, the purpose of going away from the nest is to leave the comfort zone. It may be a harsher environment, but it trains our wings to fly and finally reach the zone of independence.

Clothes for the Occasion

Here is another essay I wrote for our writing class. It is a “division and classification” essay. Basically, you have to pick a topic, preferably a noun, that you can divide and describe accordingly. From the list we were given, I chose “clothes”. I thought it was simple enough for the condition I was in the at the time. I was, as usual, swamped with work and assignments. I’m not undermining the subject, but the topic meant, again, little research (I’m sorry I’m so lazy sometimes). Besides, to put it briefly, I like clothes. Again, I hope this can be a reference to some people who need to create this kind of essay. 

Clothes for the Occasion

To me, clothes are not just pieces of cloth that cover the body. Their function is not merely to protect your skin from direct sun rays or the sting of the cold air in winter. More than that, I think they make a statement of who you are. Thus, I can express myself through what I wear and I get a sense of enjoyment from mix and matching the clothes that I have. However, like most young women, I have a lot of clothes and my wardrobe is gigantic. Based on that fact alone, it is hard to find certain items when I need them. However, this does not become a problem for me because I arrange all my clothes into certain groups and place them in my wardrobe accordingly. The division is based on a certain functionality of the clothes which is “occasion”, and therefore classified into 3 major groups: everyday clothes, going-out clothes, and formal party clothes.

The largest section of the wardrobe is probably for this first group, my everyday clothes. It consists of clothes that I wear for my daily activities, which can be more specifically divided into clothes that I wear to campus, clothes that I wear to teach classes in the afternoons, and clothes that I wear at home or more efficiently labeled as pajamas. These clothes are usually quite straightforward and conventional. There are plain blouses and neat-cut trousers for work. Alternatively, I have various long-sleeved shirts and jeans for school. I allow myself to wear bright colors and prints to campus just for fun, but nothing flashy or extravagant is appropriate. Then there is a large pile devoted to baggy, comfortable clothes to wear at the end of the day when I am ready for bed.

The second largest section of the wardrobe is for my going-out clothes. The clothes within this section, as the name suggests, are for special occasions such as a day at the mall with my friends and going to the movies. This may be my favorite section because it is filled with bold color and vibrant patterns. There are asymmetric shirts, frilly skirts, and baggy trousers with unique prints. This is the section that encourages a streak of creativity for the mixing and matching process to create an outfit that is both attractive and totally me.

The last group takes up the least space in my wardrobe because it is just for one type of occasion: formal parties. How often does a young lady attend weddings or formal dinners in a year? There are only a dozen of such occasions if you ask me. However, I do enjoy attending these events to the point that I assign a special section in my wardrobe for them. Here are the chiffon gowns, batik dresses, and silk blouses with their intricate embroidery. They are rarely worn, so they always look brand new and sometimes magical to me. Therefore, I like to call this section “the princess section” because, like any typical girl, I like to imagine that I am a princess getting ready for a ball and this section is filled with my ball gowns.

In conclusion, I take a lot of thought into what I wear. It is not for an outer-locus pleasure, but rather a personal enjoyment which circles around the artistic value of the activity. Therefore, I arrange my clothes just as an artist arranges his paintbrushes and color palettes. In the end, our goal is the same: to create a work of art. The painter creates a pretty picture. I create a nice outfit.

How to Stay Young: The Harmony of Body, Mind, and Soul

I want to share another essay I wrote for our writing class at my campus. This is an example for writing about a process or procedure, which is indicated by the explanation about the steps you need to take to reach a certain goal. Out of all the topics listed in our textbook, I chose “how to stay young” because it interested me (and I am a lazy goose because I didn’t want to do too much research, which was required for the other topics). Anyway, I hope it can be a useful referrence for anyone who is also learning about how to make different kinds of essays.

How to Stay Young: The Harmony of Body, Mind, and Soul

Time is often a plague for every consciously aging person. Wrinkles and fatigue become clear symptoms of passing time. Freedom becomes limited as the body becomes less dependable. The mind is somehow not as sharp as it used to be. Life itself has fed the soul with a variety of experiences which are either unfortunate or painful – at least those are the ones which most often come to mind. Therefore, for many, regaining and maintaining youth has become an ambition. For a considerable number of women, it has even become an obsession. Wrinkles are considered as unforgivable defects on their beauty. Millions of dollars are spent on plastic surgery and cosmetics every day. Some people consume expensive health tablets to regain their energy and boost their brain power. Others schedule regular appointments with therapists to seek answers to their never-ending discontent and sorrow.

The question is, are all these efforts worth it? People spend a lot of money just to maintain a piece of their youth, whether it is beauty, health, or the long-lost feeling of true joy that once filled their childhood. Very few realize that what they need is actually not very complicated – nor very expensive. Long-lasting youth can be achieved when a harmony is created between the body, mind, and soul. Each of these aspects requires a certain amount of appreciation and care, which can be ensured by following a few simple steps that involve less frustrating efforts and unnecessary spending.

First and foremost, take care of your body. There is no need to take expensive and dangerous shortcuts such as plastic surgery to halt those wrinkles. The simplest way is just to eat well. Firstly, make a healthy diet plan. List all the meals you plan to have in a week and recheck it to make sure it is balanced. Most importantly, make sure you will actually like those meals. There are many foods that are both healthy and delicious. Secondly, make sure you actually buy those foods in accordance to your list when you go to the grocery store. Refrain from buying any junk food, however tempting they may be. Thirdly, go home and prepare those meals without complaining. Tell yourself that you are doing a big favor for your body and you will reap the results afterwards. Combine this effort with regular exercise. Download a Yoga or aerobics tutorial from YouTube. It doesn’t need to be anything fancy.

When your body feels better, your head becomes clearer and it is easier to think. Most of us don’t realize that junk food creates toxins that prevent the brain from working as well as it should. Now that you are avoiding it and eating healthier food, you are rewarded with an optimized brain. So, after following the first step, what you need to do is enrich your mind. Since your brain-power has been boosted, you can feed your mind with numerous information that keeps you brilliant and, therefore, young. To begin with, make a reading list. Scout for interesting books on the internet; ones you will really enjoy reading. Go to your local bookstore or library to claim them. Schedule a certain time for reading every day. Perhaps you could do it for half an hour before you go to bed. Next, keep up to date with the news. You should know what is going on in the world today and keep an open mind. You will find that your intellectual capacity has not deserted you at all. Lastly, do not forsake your imagination. Let it run free once in a while. Write a fictional tale or tell a fantasy-filled bedtime story to little children.

After you have done such efforts to invigorate your mind, you are ready for a deeper experience. It is time to feed your soul. It is not enough to cater to the needs of your body and mind only. You have to remember your inner self. Start by re-evaluating your personality. Can you consider yourself as a good person and be content with it? What habits would you like to change? Next, act upon it. Remember that there is always room for improvement, so be open to any renovations on your current self. Keep a positive attitude. Spend more time with your friends and family. Be kind to others and love unconditionally. You will feel the change like a breath of fresh air. Others will feel this positive change and embrace it. Then, last but not least, pray. Rejuvenate your faith. Realize that you are abundantly blessed, even after all the hardships you have faced. You will face more obstacles in the future, but keep believing that God is always with you. With Him at your side, you can conquer mountains. Know that He loves you and will love you more for all the good that you give to those around you.

Age can be both a blessing and a curse. However, the important thing is not to avoid it, but to spend it with care. If one manages to face life positively and keep the balance between the body, mind, and soul, one may conquer time, thus youth will be eternal. This quote could be true for anyone. Let it be you.

Essay: The Hijab Fashion Trend and Its Effects in Indonesia

It seems like it has been an eternity since I last made a post for this blog. I have been darting backwards and forwards between school and work and other freelance jobs, struggling to keep up with time. Old story, huh? Anyway, the least I can do for now is post a few writings I have on hand.

The following is an essay I made for our writing class. We are currently studying how to make good thesis statements and their corresponding supporting statements. I’m enjoying it, even though we have to submit a new essay every week. This essay was the first essay I made for the class. The topic is “Fashion” and I limited it to Hijab Fashion in Indonesia.

 

Title: The Hijab Fashion Trend and Its Effects in Indonesia

Hijab is considered a symbol of religious faith for Moslem women all across the globe. It displays the value of modesty and beauty at the same time. Nowadays, more and more women, young and old, are embracing it as part of their lives. This phenomenon can be seen in our very own country, Indonesia.

There are many speculations as to how the hijab “trend” has boomed into existence in Indonesia. Some say it is because of the increasing rate of Islamic organizations’ movement. Some say it is because of the reverse-psychological effect of 9/11 which put Islam into the spotlight. Others, especially those categorized as possessing the more conservative faith, say that it is just fate. Islam has reached its inevitable glory and one of the indicators is more women embracing hijab.

However, a more generally-accepted theory doesn’t border on the development of Islam as a faith and religion itself. It borders on something more common-place and down-to-earth. It says that this display of faith was actually triggered by the heavily stigmatized industry which is fashion.

These past few years, certain prominent hijab fashion designers from Indonesia have gained significant acknowledgement both domestically and internationally. The names that come to mind are “Dian Pelangi” and “Irna La Perle”. Dian Pelangi is famous for her youthful and chic sense of style. She has brought tie-dyed fabric back into the scene and the way she wears her scarf has been followed by many young women in Indonesia. She has already displayed her collection on the Paris fashion runway and she is only in her early twenties! Meanwhile, Irna La Perle, several years above Dian Pelangi, adds a more elegant and sophisticated nuance to her designs. She specializes in using soft fabric like chiffon and combines middle-eastern and European culture in her designs. She is the ultimate choice when it comes to wedding gowns for Moslem women.

This positive development in Indonesia’s hijab fashion industry has brought major effects in Indonesia in many aspects. Firstly, in the economic aspect, producing and distributing hijab fashion has proven to be a very fruitful business. As more women embrace the hijab, the demand for the latest Moslem wear increases. The unique hijab styles from Indonesia are also popular in other countries such as Malaysia, so this triggers a surplus from the nation’s GDP.

Secondly, the social media has been an attractive platform for hijab fashion. This is not merely because it provides space for online shopping. In essence, it actually correlates with the basic idea of social media itself: freedom of speech. Many young women have made videos about why they decided to embrace the hijab. Hijab tutorial videos have gone viral on YouTube. Hijab fashion websites continue to multiply. The viewers are also multiplying, which is beneficial for both the dawa’ (Islamic preaching) purposes and also the social media tycoons.

Lastly, in the psychological aspect of the women themselves, embracing the hijab has affected their personality positively. Wearing the hijab is believed to be a sign of commitment to the God, Allah. Therefore, this concrete act of faith should give them more peace for abiding by His laws. Furthermore, the hijab is supposed to act as a shield from wandering eyes. It reflects a woman’s modesty. Women who embrace the hijab should also feel more protected and dignified.

In conclusion, the positive development in hijab fashion in Indonesia has also given positive effects to those who embrace it. Indonesia receives acknowledgement for its success in endorsing the trend. In addition, women everywhere are experiencing the changes it brings to their lives and themselves as individuals.

So, Moslem ladies, have you worn your hijab today? ;)

Pieces of a Young Woman’s Tale: For a Father

The Photo

“My little girl, Daddy has to go,” said the man to his three-year old daughter. “I’ll be back in a few months, don’t worry.”

The little girl stared longingly at her father’s back as he walked away. She clutched her mother’s hand tightly, feeling a higher need for protection. Her father would be away for a long time. He was their hero, their protector.

A few hours later, her mother rushed her outside after hearing the sound of an airplane passing through the sky. They watched the bird-like structure disappearing into the clouds. “That’s probably daddy’s plane,” said her mother.

***

The handsome man, in his early twenties, walked wearily to his flat. It had been a long day at the university. Meanwhile, there was nobody there to greet his place. His wife and his daughter lived thousands of miles away. He stopped by the mailbox before he entered the building. He saw one brown envelope situated awkwardly inside the compartment. He took it out and checked the address. It was from home.

He rushed inside the building, sped up the stairs, and bolted into his small bedroom. Carefully, trying not to tear the contents, he opened the envelope. He took out the letter and read it. He smiled in spite of himself, reading the sweet encouraging words from his loving wife. Something else slipped out of the envelope. It was a photo of his little girl.

She wore a cute pink dress and her hair was decorated with a red hairband. Her face was as innocent as a toddler’s could get. Her eyes were like her mother’s, but her gaze was exactly like her father’s. Behind the photo were a few simple words:

To our darling father

Love Naya.

A drop of water fell from the corner of his kind eyes.

“I’ll be home soon,” he whispered. “Wait for me.”

 

New Shoes

“Look at these new shoes, Dear!” The man brought a pair of leather shoes to the little girl’s feet. She stared at the brown bulky shoes. There was a simple floral pattern on each shoe. They were Mary Jane shoes, but they looked really old fashioned. She knew they were old. They were bought at the Salvations Army store near their house. Despite that, they were in pretty good condition.

But they weren’t her style at all.

She tried them on anyway. Despite her very young age, she was already aware of their economic condition. They weren’t exactly millionaires. Compromises had to be made. Being extra thrifty and meticulous were the only options.

The shoes were tight. She immediately despised her long feet. She wanted to please her father, so she said nothing and walked around casually when he asked her to. “Do they feel good?” he asked. She smiled and nodded. She figured lying was acceptable in this situation.

The next day, she went to school in her new-but-old shoes. Most of the other kids wore pumps – the newest style on the shelves. She hadn’t made friends with much of them yet. She was the new kid – the short little Asian girl who was strange and talked funny. She tried not to think of their glances at her feet as she walked by. Meanwhile, her feet started to bug her. Each step was uncomfortable.

Then it got painful.

After a while it got unbearable.

After that, she made up so many reasons to avoid wearing those shoes. She told her parents she wanted to wear her other shoes every other day. “But look at the state of those other shoes,” said her mother. “They’re worse for wear.” She just smiled at her and said it was fine. The next day, she said she had sports day at school so she couldn’t wear those Mary Jane shoes. Then she had to make more excuses. Inevitably, her parents became suspicious.

“Why won’t you wear your new shoes?” her father asked. She hesitated, thinking of yet another excuse. “Is there something wrong?” asked her mother. She looked at the ground uncomfortably.

They pressed on. She had to answer. “They hurt,” she muttered. “You said they were fine,” said her father. “You should have told the truth.”

She felt her face getting red with shame at being caught lying.

“Don’t be so hard on her,” her mother replied.

And now they are arguing because of me, she thought. She should’ve kept her mouth shut.

They argued on. She knew she probably had hurt her father and disappointed him when he uncovered the truth. He was so proud of those shoes. She knew buying them wasn’t easy. However, her lies had caused much trouble and arguments as well. Lying itself was tiring.

After a while, her parents stopped arguing. They bought her new shoes that fit her better. She knew it must have cost a lot. If she had just told the truth earlier, her parents could’ve exchanged those shoes for another. But she lied too long.

She realized her personal trait and rather troubling habit that day. Pleasing the people she loved just made her so happy. It became addictive and progressively destructive.

I’m sorry, Daddy…

 

Caught in the Act

I am totally gonna fail this test.

The young teenager stared at her history textbook sadly. She was the new kid again. Her lessons were difficult to grasp, especially history.

These words look like gibberish. I’m gonna fail and my parents are gonna be so embarrassed, especially Dad.

Her father was a lecturer. He had already got his Ph.D. Very few achieved that degree at his age in her country. He was awfully smart. So was her mother.

And I am going to fail and be a total embarrassment.

At this point, she had no liking for logic and reason, for they had betrayed her. She needed other measures. She remembered how one of her friends had slipped a piece of paper scribbled with history notes under her skirt.

I couldn’t do that. She couldn’t bear being caught lifting her skirt ad exposing her legs.

“How about your arm?” asked a small voice in her head.

Hm…

It was easily hidden if she wore a jacket. It was also easy to steal a few peeks this way.

She started hastily copying facts from her history book onto her arm. She would have to go to school in about 10 minutes. This might just work…

***

“Hurry, Dear. We have to go now.” Her father walked past her to start the motorbike. “In a second!” she replied.

Suddenly, she felt a shadow hovering above her. “What’s that?” her father asked. “Just a scribble,” she replied. “It was an accident.”

“I know what that is. Those are notes.”

She froze. He is gonna go ballistic. She waited for the torrent of words as color deepened on her cheeks. She was gravely mortified.

A chuckle broke the silence. She looked up in surprise. “Now, don’t cheat. You know it isn’t right.” With a goofy grin, he casually walked to his motorbike and started the engine. She smiled sheepishly and joined him on the motorbike.

On the way to her school, she rubbed the back of her arms vigorously. She knew it was wrong to even think of cheating. Her father could’ve scolded her, and she would’ve deserved it.

But he didn’t.

I will never do this again, she thought. Thank you, Daddy.

 

Mathematics Mania

It was a hard Math problem. He didn’t have to be so mean.

The teenager slouched on her desk, reading the question for the hundredth time. She had been at it for hours. What did she miss? Why is this so unconceivable?

Her father’s words rung in her head. Didn’t they teach you this at school? As annoying as those words were, he did make a point. The teacher must have said something about it. She should remember. She mustn’t let her mind be lazy. She shouldn’t give up so easily.

She closed her eyes and tried to picture the question in her head using simple analogies. She used commonplace variables. Then she forced her logic upon the story. Then something clicked.

Of course. It was so simple.

She realized that her father needed to be hard on her sometimes. It stirred up her ambition.

A wide smiled spread across her face as she realized another thing. I do like math. I would have given up by now if I didn’t like it. And I am stubborn as hell.

I am my daddy’s daughter.

 

Curiosity and Discussions

The young woman always loved talking to her father. He was so informed about practically everything. He listened well. He was open-minded. He used exceptional logic. He was witty. He was ethical.

Meanwhile, she was always a curious child. She asked questions and sought answers hungrily. Her parents fostered this characteristic by giving her all kinds of puzzles as her toys in the early years of her childhood. They bought her many books, including giant encyclopedias and atlases. Her father, who majored in computer science and mathematics, taught her quite well. She learnt how to use the computer when she was just a toddler. She came to love working with numbers. And it was never enough. She wanted to know everything.

“Daddy, do you believe in aliens? We can’t be the only life existing in this wide universe.”

“Do you think ghosts are real?”

“Why do you think God does the things he does?”

“Tell me about your childhood.”

“Why did you choose math and computer science?”

“What do you wanna do when you retire?”

“Wouldn’t it be cool to build a garden in the middle of a house?” 

“What’s your testimony on the statement that most government institutions are corrupted?”

“Let’s talk about classical-crossover music.”

“No, Daddy. You cannot make a series of aptitude tests for my fiancé later.”

“The crisis in Egypt? Problematic. Tell me about it.”

“Let’s talk about proper eating habits.”

“Tell me about Einstein’s theory of relativity again…”

He always gave good answers. There were almost no limits.

He continued to foster her curiosity. She asked more questions. The discussions went on. 

Undoubtedly, she would expect more to come.

 

***

 

All the above are based on stories of my life, since I was a toddler – those that I can remember at least. They’re not 100% true but my purpose is to convey the meaningful lessons I’ve learnt from them. I dedicate them to my father.

Thank you for being such an inspiring father. You have taught me so much in my life. You are a role model for me. I aspire to be as smart, kind, responsible, and strong as you.

I am still learning to be a good daughter. I have stumbled many times, but you, together with Mom, have always embraced me and the rest of your children with your patience and love.

May Allah be forever in your heart and may He grant you much happiness in your life. Continue to be the greatest father, and teacher, in the world for me.

Happy Birthday, Daddy! You’re never too old for us, for age brings you wisdom and your cheerfulness sustains your youth.

 

Sincerely,

 

Your loving daughter and devoted student,

 

Naya

To the Strait of Malacca

Yesterday afternoon, we had a family outing on the shores of the Strait of Malacca. I had never been there before. There isn’t exactly a jaw-dropping view there, but I found the atmosphere very pleasant. I have always loved the smell of the sand and the sea and yesterday was no exception. The air was cool and fresh. We could see the sun slowly setting on the horizon.

We passed some fancy hotels and visited a very beautiful mosque called “Masjid Selat Melaka”. My dad also called it “Masjid Terapung” or “the floating mosque”. It is situated on the edge of the land in such a way that it seems to float on top of the water. Cool huh?

However, since we had other plans, we didn’t stay until prayer time. We took a lot of pictures on the seashore then went to have dinner at Johnny’s, our favorite restaurant in our town. We always order the steamboat. I love looking at the green vegetables and bright colored prawns and other seafood boiling inside the pot. It’s delicious and fresh and makes your body feel good. Totally recommended.

Anyway, here are some photo’s we took on the outing. Who knows. It might make you tempted to visit Malacca.

*on the grounds of the mosque

*my two brothers playing on the seashore

*my mom and dad

I tried making a collage from the candid photos my brother took of me. I used the “page” feature on PhotoScape. It’s wonderfully easy to use. I had a lot of fun rearranging the pictures. What do you think of the result? Could it be page from a fashion magazine? (laughs)

*I call this ensemble “bright sunset”.
Blouse by Xiu Xiu
Jeans by Log Jeans
Shoes by Gosh
My mothers gipsy scarf bought at Mataram (no visible brand, I’m sorry)
Bag by Enola
Accessories: 1. my sister’s brown bangle 2. beaded bracelet – handicraft bought at Kute Beach, Lombok 3. watch by Mirage