Three Times a Programme

Well, seems that I've been rely on an unreliable source. Indeed, the third joint programme has been initiated after all. I've got to watch less infotainment next time :) Let's just hope that this will be a better one, a much better one for the sake of the participants. And the first batch has given the deadline, on February 28th 2010. We've got our spell now, it's time to work our a** off if we still want to get that degree.

Joint the Programme!

Finally, the nail has been hit into Joint Programme's Coffin. The third batch of Joint Programme has been officially aborted. The link and page for Joint Programme has been missing from MST website. So much for billions of Rupiahs have been spent. Not one side in this program is completely satisfied. The commissioners, stakeholders, participants (especially), and supporting sides is somewhat dissatisfied with the outcomes. When 11 of 20 participants are finally graduated by the end of this month, the big question is still hanging, what the hell are we gonna do with them. They are (mostly) some of the best graduates from UGM and ITB for the past five years, and yet this state has nothing to offer. So, who's to blame when we look at the remaining nine, one is disappeared (literally), four are more concerned about getting a job, two are more concerned about their family, and the rest are history? Well, don't get me started about the second batch, the one who 70% of them are failed in one particular course known as economic investment analysis!

Why Should I Write About You?

It's been forty days since my father's gone. Such a moment to commemorate, yet I can't find the gut to write about it. Twelve years in handicapped status, constantly deteriorated, sometimes I think death has just knocked on the door. It's only a matter of time. My father's sickness was really stressing, even depressing not only for him but also the entire family. How can you write about something so depressing, watching someone close to you slowly degrade into the end of the line in such a long and painful way anyone could ever imagined?

Ironically, I don't have much to say about my father when he's alive. Yes, he's been a very good father and a role model for us, but there's not much left out of it. All I can remember is how he took education very seriously, how he was angry when I blew my midterm grade back in high school, how he's always there when we got into college. My father himself visited me in Bandung all the way from Semarang by regular bus!.That was right before the stroke comes and destroys anything good in him. I remember taking his hand to the mosque every Friday. We had to come very early so that we can take a special place in the mosque before it got occupied by someone else.
The last two years were the most depressing times after he was completely incapable to move or assisted to move. He was also completely lost his ability to communicate in any way. It makes both sides frustrated, and made us can only think of the worst possibility that might happens.

And now that my father's gone, we still learn to live without him. My mother still finds it difficult to sleep getting accustomed to keep an eye on my father every night. My father left a hole, an empty space that used to fill this house up, even in his condition. Now this house feels so vacant, I cannot imagine how we can solve this dilemma. The way we lived revolves around him, and we have to determine a new course now, and so far is not yet determined. That's something that not many people understand, when all they care about is irritating me and my brother about our spouses-to-be and our aging state.

Yeah, We're All Eliminated!

It seems that I'm all mistaken. Turns out that we all are scraps of this program. Nothing good seems to come out. The best of us are wasted, the rest of us are hopeless. There's no way we can win. A joint program is supposed to be a collaborative work that includes more than one side. But in the end, what's left is a name, a jargon. without followup. I don't need the degree nor the certificate, it's all just papers. I've had all I got to survive this life. But the rest of my friends in this program need them so much. They have sacrificed much, time, effort, enthusiasm, and passion.They are more than deserve their recognitions. Now it seems that every piece of this program has a mind of their own about it. This is not joint program after all, this is not even a program. This is a reality show where nobody wins. Yeah, we're all eliminated!

Food Poisoning(?)

I'm not really sure what happened, suddenly I feel pain all over my stomach, and I threw up, from all outlets. I drained out, dehydrated, losing so much fluid. Well, talk about eat the wrong food. All I can remember that I have just enjoyed a nice lunch with some pasta I bought from the store nearby. I put it in the microwave for about 10 minutes and actually, it was quite enjoyable, my first proper meal here cooked (or at least, prepared) by me. The pasta was called penne, with chicken, mushroom, paprika, and cheese sauce. Now I feel like a cloth after washing, ready to hang to dry.

Sleepless in Karlsruhe

Coming to Germany in summer has a big advantage, especially for tropical citizen like me. The weather is similar to my hometown, which only knows two seasons: summer and rainy. Summer in Germany, or in Europe, get the two seasons combined. Temperature is around 28 degrees, quite comfortable for us getting used to temperature above 30 degrees. While people here longing for the sunshine, we from tropical country have got enough for it back home. Also, it makes the best environment for holiday and sightseeing. People don't hesitate to go out and walk in the sun. But there is also drawbacks. The biggest one is the time. In summer, the sun sets at 10.00 pm and rise at 03.00 am. Consequently, the prayer time is also adjusted accordingly. The day is longer, so the Duhr is now at 1.30 pm, Asr at 5.30 pm. That is OK, but when we see that Magrib is 09.30 pm, Isha at 11.40 pm, and Fajr (Subuh) is at 03.15 am, well how many hours can we sleep? Counting up the number, and you got three. Yes, three hours of sleep. And facing the fasting month coming up, if we must prepare for sahur before Fajr, then we get no hours left for sleep! Yes, we're gonna be sleepless in Karlsruhe soon.

I Should Be So Lucky

Some times ago, someone told me that I am a lucky man, because I virtually do nothing to get an invitation letter to get me here now. I just sit back and do whatever came to me. My friend told me to upload my passport scan, OK. Another day he wanted me to send me CV, I'd do that too. And then, snap! the letter just came to my lap. There was some work to do to make sure I can go abroad, but that's just routine. And the rest is history, they say...

Although I always see my life as a series of unfortunate events, I always thank God for that, because there are many fortunes, too. My unfortunate was followed by a fortune, and vice versa. I got dropped out from college followed by my acceptance in UGM, my first job came through Yahoo! Messenger chatting after 6 months of fighting, my firing from that job followed by another job instantly, I got invitation for postgraduate scholarship out of nowhere, my failure to get ito the big five followed by this invitation letter. So, I see that as... life as we know it. Sometimes we get lucky, most of times someone else is.

To Germany...at Last

Well, when you watch Slumdog Millionaire, you'll be convinced that sometimes your destiny is written, and no matter how hard it is, you should achieved it if you tried. But even sometimes you can wait until destiny comes to you. The biggest hurdle to get me to Germany is getting an invitation letter, since the institution would not help at all. But, that all changes in a blink of an eye when my friend managed to get that letter without much of my intervention. In less than a week the letters have arrived, and my world is turning upside down. All plans just came one after another, getting visa and the documents prerequisites, and confirm the arrival at Germany with our friends already there. All has been set for departure at July 1st at 00.30. The visas are done in June 29th, and the tickets are already paid for flying to Frankfurt through Dubai. The flight was long, approximately 19 hours counted from Western Indonesia Time, plus one more hour by train from Frankfurt to Karlsruhe. And the rest is history...

Back to the Corner

I'm out of passion, even for surviving this so-called joint program. Time is running out, alol my friends are progressing, leaving me behind on the platform. Well, it's time for natural selection. My kind of species is destined to extinct, back in the 20th century. I can't seem to think in the same language again. Once again, I'm caught in this devil's circle, never seem to know the edge. This past six months have sent me back to the corner, just watching as the world goes by. Have I taken the wrong choice to be here, try to fool myself in the academic world while my mind is always in the practical world, the real world. Is it time to retreat and surrender, like I used to? Why the hell am I hiding my complaint here, in a foreign language, so that no one really cares about? Who am I kidding?

Byproducts or Scraps?

When a selection process is done, or in this case synonymous with layoffs, what should the rest of the candidates called? If they go on doing something other than what the main purpose was, they can be called 'byproducts', whereas the selected ones are the main products. Byproducts are the side products that comes from outside the main process, commonly have lower values than the main ones. Of course, less attention paid to byproducts, as they are not the highlight of the company, only considered as the higher status of salvage, a valuable trash. At least, byproducts are still considered as part of the process and outcomes. When the losing candidates are neglected and given no treatment, then it becomes scraps (or simply garbage), that must be disposed. Scraps may still be valuable, however commonly can be considered worthless, at least in the eye of the company's stockholders. Scraps are annoying and ruining the main portfolios (products), especially when they keep complaining about lack of efforts and financing spent to take care of them, even when the budget has already been allocated for them in the beginning. When the main process changes its procedure in the middle, reducing the output because of increasing in cost and rejection of market and lack of coordination between shareholders (or supposed-to-be-shareholder), should the rest of materials considered scraps? Especially when the materials are humans being, rationally-sane individuals? Are they byproducts or scraps?

The Warnetman Strikes Back

It's been a while since my warnet days back in 1999 until 2001. As consumer, I use warnet regularly until graduating from UGM in 2004. After that, I access internet either from home or office. When I get back to campus to take my postgraduate study, the hotspot is already all around. Even at home, I can access our neighbor campus' hotspot occasionally. Until the other day, my brother's friend asked me to set up his new warnet (internet cafe) at his home. I never set up an internet cafe router (gateway) before, so it's a surprise that the work can be done in just under ten minutes using IP Forward and IP Tables. Next is setting firewall, and until now I still cannot manage to do it properly, at least for HTTPS exception. The bandwidth management came next, easily done using HTB. This week, I will do proxy using squid.

The King of Upstairs

These weeks have been such a lonely one. My older brother left for Riau yesterday for two weeks. My sister-in-law and my one-week-old-yet-unnamed niece came home for about one week now. My parents is downstairs, our maid does not stay inhouse. That leaves me alone for weekdays (my younger brother only visits every weekend), to be the king of upstairs. It also bounds me to stay put, because my father is extremely ill and cannot be left alone. Maybe that what keeps me away from the world, from my study, and my dream of going abroad. I have to stay home, at least for a while.

When All Is Said and Done...

First, they promised all of us full scholarship to study in three universities in three cities, one of them is abroad. Suddenly, only a fraction of us who can go abroad, but they still promised the rest would go abroad too, but not to study. Then, they hold out our scholarship for the rest of us. Now, we are not guaranteed to go abroad at all, because we must find the way ourselves (like we ever go before). Not enough of it, they say if we don't (or won't) go abroad, we must pay our scholarship back. Do we ever speak the same language all this time?

All I Need Is a Miracle...

Just to finish this goddamn programme! We are urged to graduate in May, which means we get only three months left. At the same time, we supposed to find our way to German, by ourselves! Well, our headmaster must be out of his mind. If they can't get us through, how can they depend on us instead? Not to mention the financial is getting tighter, there's no guarantee we can collect our last paychecks, after they cut the periods by two months. Are we supposed to feel lucky here?