Jumat, 29 November 2013

Thanksgiving and mas Willy!

op of Form

Thanksgiving and mas Willy!
By Farsijana Adeney - Risakotta

I 'm enjoying the mercy of
the Almighty God. I can write with my tiny finger dancing on the keys of my computer.  Typing with 10 fingers has helped me to publish already many posts  on my blog . My blog have been more than two years old. Beginning of writing habit to share to my friends on FB that later could not be proceed because of being blocked by a Hacker, I began to write on my blog to distribute to my readers publicly. My writings for my blog evolves mainly as a place for me to explain about the reasons for living together as human beings and the nature of democracy in Indonesia. I have always enjoyed writing. I launch my writing through the words that I ponder while jogging, while bathing or driving.

Now after a car accident, I cannot jog, cannot shower as usual and cannot
drive, but I like to sleep with the words and then woken up by phrases ready as a writing. I’ve been writing since I was out of the hospital. A friend asked me how that take a time to me to finish writing in the fact I have the limitation of my body which is being covered by the shield. I do not measure how long I write. Because I write for two kinds of readers, i.e. Indonesian readers and those who can read only in English. Sometimes I write fast because my fingers have no problem to send signals to capture into ideas that coupled from each typing sounds of the letters in the phrases into understanding.  I write with a computer without seeing the keys. The ideas flowed like a light that was pierced into the bulkhead walls to warm the inside of the house . The habit of getting the idea while doing activities such as I mentioned above it is now still continues to flow in a different expression .

In my sleep
I formulate my writings . This incident reminds me of when my right elbow  had to be bandaged, on the next day I woke up and prayed before ending suddently I heard saying : " Sand .. Sand " . I asked : " Sand .. sand ? Do I have to paint with sand ? " Then the voice replied : " Sand ... Sand " . I believe that the voice  was from God to me . I got out of bed to go look for a bottle that is filled with sand . I collect sand from Bali . I then took the sand , and asked my niece to go look for colored cement . My niece back , I 'd finished painting with sand which I gave the title " the Dancer of Life " . This painting comes from a poem written in my blog   Indonesianku Indonesianmu Indonesia untuk semua: . I quote the poem.

Now adoring saluting depth
pilgrims of life
Like a dancer with the rhythm of movement
and charisma
Now touch the minds inflame
Hearts meet yourself
habituating life
dancer body
releases of grief in beauty
Dancers arrange a meeting in the play of life
suffering with elegance eternity


After that , I painted 11 paintings in a week with
my  left hand .  During the time of painting, one thing happened.  I woke up to see in a state of half- sleep to end with my prayer, there was a very large white flower in front of me . I was surprised and saw it amazingly. Then I got out of bed and looked for a canvas for painting . In twenty minutes I 'd painted the flowers as it was following me to finish my drawing.  I gave the title : " Indonesia waits for love " . This painting follows the core of my poem which has the same title.  I quote the poem and would like to show it within the form of my painting.
Land Spreading the smell of lust suck heat softened After Attractive
Opening the womb of the earth

Footing the rain tapered second land birds return Limits twilight
Waiting back Love
Earth beautiful earth fertile homeland mighty Earth Nation State mannered grace
after the arrival of Love

Since the accident until now , I continue to write . But yesterday , I stopped writing a few hours and for the first time since 4:30 pm until 10 pm I enjoy
ed socializing  with my family, along with a family  of pak Robert Hefner , ibu Nancy Smith-Hefner and two female students in the ICRS Yogya ,  bu Ninik and bu Nina to celebrate Thanksgiving together . I was happy to know the Hefner family , especially their son called mas Willy . I laughed when pak Hefner told the story about mas Willy. One day they were in Bali. Mas Willy was about 3 or 4 years old. . They were walking and there were people shouting in the street and said, " Hey boy where you are going ? " . This little boy saw them and proudly said : " My name is not  boy , my name is mas Willy" . Pak Hefner body stomped , I glanced to  mas Willy who was standing near the door while amazed at his father's warmed up his childhood memories . Mas Willy eyes were proud and happy! Little smile  was on mas Willy’ face!

I am writing about mas Willy because on Thanksgiving , I asked if Will is happy to be called mas Willy , then he said yes while asking his head .  Willy was raised several years in Indonesia when his parents did research there . Now Willy had forgotten Indonesian , but does not forget his name, mas Willy . Calling somebody “mas” in Java, Indonesia is to show a respect to a child who is considered different from other children . The difference may be because his parents came from a noble family , or educated or respected . His original name is William. Now in Boston where he lives with his parents, he is just called Will. "Mas" in Javanese means older brother . A person could be called  "mas" though he is younger than suppose because the experiences of  those around him flow down. Willy was born with from a family with a very profound experience that respects  to the understanding of the people of Indonesia and Islam .

The Thanksgiving story
was in my mind since yesterday  because , this handsome young man , is still grateful to the name given by the Javanese , “mas  Willy " . I did not remind everyone who attended last night about a great Indonesian writer , Rendra who was always called mas Willy.  Unlike Rendra, mas Willy , the son of the  Hefner family is happy to learn natural sciences and mathematics . Now mas Willy is studying at the University of Maine , majoring in mechanical engineering . He acknowledges that less well in literary subjects that cannot follow the footsteps of his parents who learn about the culture and religion of various communities around the world .

father, pak Robert Hefner is an anthropologist who studied Islam from the view of society and culture . 'His mother Nancy is also an anthropologist with speciality on gender and community education. She has done research around several countries in Southeast Asian. His sister, Clarie is also an  anthropologist who is completing research on young women and Islamic education in Indonesia . Even he does not master in Indonesian study, but Indonesia has given him a name and he receives inheritance of Indonesia, mas Willy. In this year Thanksgiving, he is reminded that he has an Indonesian blessing.

In this family , our family , both
my husband and our nieces with two students ICRS Yogya were invited to celebrate Thanksgiving . With us there were also two friends of Claire. Exceptional, ibu Nancy prepared the entire dinner feast since some days ago. The menu of Thanksgiving is reminiscent of many appropriate banquets in Indonesia with a variety of offerings . On Thanksgiving Day, in addition to turkey as the main menu , there were potatoes , corn , sweet patatoes, cooked green beans, fresh vegetables such  salad , bread , sauces cranberry and various others that were all yammi.  The appetizers have brought our desire to eat.

Warm house with a fireplace more fragrant after the turkey was reheated . We enjoyed turkey chopped from roast turkey that weighs 22.4 pounds or about 10 kg . Turkey size is larger than a baby , said by bu Ninik. Pak Hefner opened with a prayer of Thanksgiving, like a kiya sings but in English thanking to Almight God and the fellowships of  us all. A kiya is called to a muslim ulama. Meals were rotated to be fulfilled in each plate while we shared various stories. Thanksgiving feast is actually eating with depth because of the opportunity to share stories from each other's experiences . Oh all desert were delicious.

Thank you very much pak Hefner, bu Nancy, mba Claire and mas Willy who have taken me out of the house for the first time to socialize after the accident . I wrote this story as a token of my thanks to mas Willy who is still happy to be called as the Javanese even today in his family he is just called Will . I will always call him mas Willy!

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