Murphy's Law

The first time I heard the word of Murphy's Law was when I watched Interstellar movie. At that time I didn't understand the meaning of it. But after watching final show Miss Universe 2015, in which the host mistakenly announced winner's name, I now understand. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. It reminds me of several unfortunate events I had. I hate it when something went wrong but I couldn't help to avoid nor to fix it. No matter how hard I try to make it good, it eventually goes wrong. It stressed me when events that I didn't expect to happen occur, even worse when this happens at the least ideal time.

It happens anytime in any day, like when I missed important calls, when I tried to explain things to someone but failed, or when I thought something will happen but it didn't. I came to realize that there's always something beyond my reach, things that unlikely to happen but it happens anyway. For example, I thought by buying a piano would motivate me to start learning piano. But it didn't. I thought by watching Youtube would make me learn faster. But it didn't. Whenever I tried to start playing, there's always something else must be done first. Nothing as easy as it looks. But when my niece and nephew come over, the piano turns out to be a great entertainment for them. And I feel enjoyed learning piano when they were around.

So the question "when?" is still mystery. It could be coincidental but it doesn't mean we can't control it. The only way to to get in control of Murphy's Law: Law of Attraction. Murphy’s Law is manifestation of negative thoughts. By always keeping positive thoughts, one could manage bad things to occur. This is how to do it (source):

1. Recognize it. Be aware of your thoughts. Awareness is key to preventing the negatives.

2. Choose to stop it. Your thoughts are YOUR choice. Only you can change the course of Murphy’s Law.

3. Do positive affirmations. Affirmations can take the place of negative expectations. Say this to yourself: “Good things are happening for me.” “I have very good luck.”

4. Break negative chain with a declaration. When one thing after another goes wrong, take the energy from anger and declare, “That’s it! No more negatives! I choose to have things go positively from here on.”

That way, we can get back in control of Murphy's Law. By recognizing Murphy's Law, I learn to expect the unexpected. The most unexpected usually turns out the best one (if not, then the worst one). And by turning energy from the stress into positive thoughts, good things will eventually coming to us. It's all depend on our thoughts.

Inside Out - Revelations from The Movie

I've recently watched the movie "Inside Out", a great movie with simple story but rich of psychological information about human emotions. The main characters are Joy, Disgust, Fear, Anger, and Sadness, which playing big roles in controlling human's reaction to everything one could experience in one's life. Each emotion expressed in any event then stored inside brain memory which could either develop or even destroy personality traits. After watching the movie, I understand that it's okay to be sad. It's just a natural process of being human. By experiencing sadness, we naturally contemplate the unfortunate event and learn from it. Though it hurts, but only with sadness, we could learn to let go and move on our life. It's also okay to feel angry. It's the reaction we get when we are unsatisfied, failed, or betrayed. From it we could learn to find solution for problem or another way for compromise. Meanwhile we feel disgust or fear when we are threatened. It protects us from uncertain and harmful condition. It seems all of these work automatically, but I think it could be managed. Remember when we were brokenhearted, all at once we felt sadness, anger, fear, and disgust but not joy? Those emotion help us to go through healing process. Then we are told by friends to believe that the best one is yet to come, that joy will come back to life. But the absence of joy for a long time could lead us to depression and might as well to suicide attempt. I find it important to manage good emotion, to have joy as the leader of our reaction control. It might be quite a challenge to keep positive mind. Things happened in our life and some were painful shits. People wrote books about the "key of success", so telling people not to make the same mistakes and to reach happiness as fast as possible. But one's life journey is never the same with the others. We are chasing for our own success, it's the real pursuit of happiness on our own. However, the books are written for good, they have the same idea: to always be positive-minded person, to give joy more control in our life, to balance the presence of sadness, anger, fear, and disgust. I suppose it's how we should be able to continue living as human beings. It's simply the beauty of life.

Joy - Anger - Sadness - Fear - Disgust

How to Calm a Crying Baby

I've just stumbled upon this page and discovered a video of how to hold baby and make it stop crying. Dr Hamilton, a paediatrician who has been practicing for 30 years, developed "The Hold" technique that does calm his crying little patients.

How to do it:

1. Fold baby's arms across the chest

2. Secure arms gently with one hand

3. Grasp diaper area with the other hand

4. Rock baby at a 45 degree angle

I'm curious to try this technique. My niece and nephew already grown up. If only they were babies, I could have tried this instantly. One crying baby, please! :)

Mount Rinjani (3726 m.a.s.l.)

The perks of living in Indonesia are the exquisite volcanic mountains. Rinjani is exceptionally one of them. It is written on my bucket list as one of dream places I had to visit before I die. It was begun by a single photo I saw on Instagram last year that sparked my desire to hike Rinjani. Something bloomed inside me, calling me that I should go there, no matter what or how I suppose to do that. When MRU (Mount Rinjani Ultra) registration was opened in early February, I immediately signed up for RAR (Rinjani Altitude Run), a 21 km run course that covers the mountain terrain with elevation gain 1950 meters and cut off time 7 hours. I did not know how extreme the track would be, I didn't care though. All I wanted was to get those epic views of Segara Anak from the summit. Soon I learned that RAR course did not cover the summit, it started from Senaru village, looping at Senaru slope, ended back to the village again. I cancelled my race and was about to obliterate my dream of Mount Rinjani until I found an open trip broadcast in WhatsApp group chat. It was provided by Indonesia Expeditions, an organizer specialized in Seven Summits hiking and mountaineering. The open trip cost me three million rupiahs, a bit cheaper if compared to other local trekking organizers. I decided to give it a try. I circled my calendar, off from work from August 19-23, excited yet restless as the day came closer. Since it's an open trip, I didn't get to know the other hikers. We had just met on scheduled day at Lombok International Airport. There were supposed to be four hikers, but one was unfortunately ill and cancelled his trip, leaving only three of us accompanied with one guide and three porters.

I never did hiking before. Never. I thought I had enough preparations but I was mistaken. We spent the first night at home-stay where the guide rummaged my backpacks, sorted my belongings, and instructed me to leave unnecessary things behind, such as jacket that is not suitable for hiking and clean clothes for the last day trip. I didn't even have any trekking pants, neither hiking boots. I wore trail running shoes in lieau of boots. I didn't have much time for preparation yet any knowledge of hiking equipment. This gonna be a nightmare. Fortunately, my hiking buddies were nice and kind, one of them gave me her extra trekking pant and gaiters, the guide also brought me his additional windbreaker jacket. My backpack was a 45-liter Berghaus, it has sturdy frame but minimalist pockets, exactly what I wanted and needed. I put my 1-liter Hydrapak inside of it, setting the hose through H2O slot which came in handy whenever I felt thirsty and needed a sip of water. There is a tiny orange whistle equipped on one of the shoulder straps, dangling and serving as emergency signal in case I get lost. I worked my way through piles of my load, wedging and cramming and forcing them into every available space of my pack until nothing more could possibly fit. When I was done, I stared at my pack, it was more like a giant boulder, I might have looked like Obelix carrying menhir stone around. I weaved my arms through the shoulder straps, clipped the sternum strap across my chest, buckled the waist belt, and tried giving it a lift. To my surprise, it felt pretty good. It weighed around 7 kg to my guess. I stood for a while, roaming and swaying around the room, trying to find my balance. Perhaps this was how it felt to be a backpacker. This is just the beginning. I took my pack down and went to sleep.

First day of trail started from Sembalun village at 8 AM, we went to the entry point by hitchhiking a pickup truck. It was a fine day. The cool morning breeze gently stroked my hair. The road is rough trail, covered with reddish sand and dirt. When it rains, then it's impossible to drive through the trail. Mount Rinjani standing gracefully before my eyes. In a few days I would embrace the summit. We were told a joke by our driver that the crest is close to the eyes but far to the feet. I hate to say this was true.

Welcome to Mount Rinjani National Park

We walked through the infinite meadows. The landscape was arid, interspersed with range of blondes and browns grasses. The trail was a single winding path, ascending up to the mountain ramps. Our porters walked so fast, bearing our three days logistics, each weighing 20 kg load. My pack was 7 kg only but still I suffered. There are three rest stations, we stopped by at each one for a little break. There were many foreign hikers, they walked swiftly, not even bothered by the scorching heat. I dressed in sports attire, long sleeve quick-dry shirt and long trekking pant whilst they wore only short pants and tank tops or sleeveless shirts. I envied them, they looked real sporty, it seemed like they could reach the ramp in less than three hours. Then we had lunch at station number two, where our porters cooked us meals. I was amazed by those local porters, they are agile, quick-witted, they could speak English, and they cook appetizing meals. They know exactly how to serve and entertain their guests, they told us myths about Rinjani and stories of how they live and make money from hiking tours.

From the third station, we commenced walking through a range of hills that is called Seven Ridges of Regret. I ascended with slow steps. I hiked in heat of that the day with sweating and panting. I wondered why it's given the name Seven Ridges of Regret. I thought the landscape was extraordinarily beautiful that one might regret for not hiking through it. I had not expected that it was actually a living hell. My shoes crunched the sandy and gravelly trail. I could feel the warm sand seeping through my shoes and swamping my toes. It was noon, my body was shimmering into a cold sweat. I rested under the shade, laid my backpack down, and leaned my body against a tree at the top of fourth ridge. I looked up, three ridges to go. So that's how the ridges got its name, the uphills are precipitous and made anyone regretting of walking through it. At my position then it was too late to go back and likely too far to go on. I continued walking and pondered my situation. Back when my Rinjani hike had been nothing but an idea, I thought I'd reached the top with ease. I had been doing sports regularly, running and swimming, it never occurred to me that hiking was totally different. Mountains are inexplicable and complex and consist of layers. When I thought I was at the top of one, there was still more up to go, even if it was alternated by descending slope. Moreover I hadn't factored in my lack of capability, neither the harshness of the trail, until I was on it.

We reached the ramp at 4 PM, it took seven hours included several breaks, I relieved that I eventually made it. The sight of Segara Anak Lake lifted my spirits enormously. The clouds were hovering down below. I like the sensation of standing higher than the clouds. The lake is basically a caldera, naturally filled with water for hundreds of year, circled and bounded by the mountain itself, making it looked like a giant soup bowl. Amidst the lake, stand the cone of former Rinjani, namely Mount Barujari. There is a belief in Indonesia that when a volcanic mountain erupts, it bears baby mountain so called 'anak'. For example, Anak Krakatau, people don't say it Krakatau as it already erupted in 1883, 40 years later its 'baby' appeared and is called Anak Krakatau instead. In Rinjani case, the lake of Segara Anak means the ocean that surrounds Mount Barujari or the new Rinjani.

I was only thankful that I'd made it this far. I was at an elevation of 2600 meters. The weather was warm and the sun intensely shone. I browsed the landscape. Plawangan Sembalun is called the gateway to the summit, I could see it clearly from below, 1100 meters elevation gain to obtain before sunrise and I'd be at the top of it.

There were dozens of tent pitched in groups. I walked through the campground searching for my tent location. I didn't know that Rinjani is quite popular among foreigners, I didn't expect to see such crowd on mountain. Hikers-slash-tourists from all around the world were relaxed enjoying the sun while their porters preparing them dinner. The mood was more like in the feast, as if I was in barbecue party. The smell of Indomie were waving in the air, reminding me that I hadn't had my dinner though I was not hungry. I noticed some porters built small stalls and tried selling sodas and beers for tremendous price. The sodas might be probably too warm to drink due to the heat.

The campground

When I arrived at the tent, everything was ready. Our tent is The North Face Summit Series VE 25 and has enough space for three people to sleep in. It was firmly pinched and was quite distinct from the others as the only The North Face tent in the whole campground. Our porters had their own triangular tent made from tarpaulin. They set the stove and served us fried bananas in a flash. The regular question coming from them day-to-day was: "What would you like to drink?"

After having dinner, I strolled around the campground. The sun already set, the sky was clear and the temperature had turned from warm to chill. I looked up and astounded by millions of star stretched across the sky. The moon was in half-crescent shape, so bright it lightened the whole sky. I reclined down on unoccupied spot and gazed the Milky Way. After a while, I rose finally and went creeping into my sleeping bag as I had to wake up early at dawn and brace myself for the trail up to the summit.

At 2 AM we commenced summit attack. It was dark night but the sky was bright. I turned on my headlamp and saw dozens of hiker lined up while ascending. The trail mostly cramped by rocks and boulders that made it difficult to take precedence, we had to queue along the trail. My steps were hampered by deep volcanic sands. Each step forward seemed taking me another two steps backward. We stopped once in a while to catch breath and see how the other hikers embracing the same difficulties. Two hours later, we were not even reached quarter of the trail but I was already in fatigue and drowsiness. I thought I could reach the summit before sunrise, but by five o'clock it was still there, near in sight but distant in course.

We were halfway to go but felt very sleepy. We then decided to take a break. I was told not to sleep as it will drain my energy out. I laid leaning against a flat rock. The sand felt warm beneath my back. I gazed up the sky, the stars were still there, reminded me of a quote in German: "Freunde sind wie Sterne: du siehst nicht immer, aber sie sind immer da." Though we were reminded not to sleep, but we slumbered anyway. I slept for fifteen minutes, felt like having a dream in my sleep but forgot it instantly. I woke up feeling refreshed. At that very moment, the sun rose before my eyes. Nature never ceases to amaze me.

Sunrise

I was grateful for the morning weather that the wind blew gently and the sun warmly shone, but two hours later my gratitude was gone. It was sweltering hot. It was one hell of a hot morning to hike the summit. I limped ascending the trail and often didn't look up. My eyes were fixed on the sandy trail but my feet frequently tumbling beneath me as I climbed up and switched back. Many other hikers who had reached the summit were descending down the trail and letting the sand blown the air. I covered my mouth and nose with Buff and waited until the sand haze was gone. As I hiked, I moaned again and again, as if that would remedy my misery, but nothing changed. I was already behind from my hiking buddies, but I couldn't force myself to push forward. My face and hands were swollen, resulted from acclimation and physical distress. It took all I had to reach at that far. My head was dizzy and my legs trembled, I thought I was about to collapse. The summit seemed taking me forever to conquer. That was it. I wanted off.

I was told that climbing is more about mental building. I knew it but I had mental breakdown already. All I wanted was to rest my body in the shade. As the notion of quitting settled in, I came to realize that this whole Rinjani hike had been an outrageously absurd idea. I thought within this journey I could reflect upon my life, to prove myself that I can and could overcome any obstacles, to make myself bold again. But the truth was, at least so far, I was consumed only with my physical suffering. The thoughts of the struggles of my life had fluttered through my mind, worsen my despair, ended up with self-pity. Why have my life gotten miserable like this?!

A kind of living hell

Then my guide, a well-seasoned hiker, handed me a five-meter bungee strap, I gripped at one end as he walked farther away from me and pulled me up from the other end. That way, I was supported to ascend. It was 8 AM when I finally reached the trail's summit. This is it. I was ultimately on 3726 meters elevation. I gazed across the expanse. The surface of the water lake sat 1700 meters below where I stood. The water lake spread out in deep blue color. This was once a mountain that approximately 6000 meters tall and had its core detached, leaving a vast bowl that took hundreds of year to fill. This was once a wasteland of frozen lava and dry soil, but now its beauty attracts people from all around the world to come and admire. From afar, the top of Mount Agung in Bali island could be seen. On the other side to the east, Mount Tambora in Nusa Tenggara island could also be seen. It seemed to be a gift to me, for I had eventually walked my way up to the summit. I took a few photographs and rested my feet.

with hiking buddies and guide

Having satisfied the view, we walked back to the campground. The sandy trail that used to be hellfire when I was ascending now felt like heaven to me. I descended swiftly, my heart was rejoicing. If I had a plank or a board, I could do sandboarding as well. How awesome down was for those first minutes! Down, down, down I went that I wished for the trail to go back up. The view below was spectacular, I could see the straits and the tip of neighboring islands: Bali and Sulawesi. The horizon stretched in thick blue and white line. The clouds dispersed all over below horizon. I enjoyed the view so much that I slipped and fell flat onto my butt. It didn't hurt though, the surface of the trail were almost entirely sands. I continued gliding with my eyes fixed on the trail in front of me, anxious I'd lose my footing again and fall. But then, I fell and landed on the butt again like several times along the trail.

Sandy and dusty

Though we were a bit lost in the trail, we safely arrived at the campground just before noon. I immediately drank half liter of water due to scorching heat. At noon the heat was so relentless and the campground so exposed to the sun that we decided to move our tents into the shades of trees. Our porters had already prepared lunch for us. I was not hungry but I had to eat. In two hours we were supposed to advance our trip to the lake and camped there, but my two buddies were too exhausted to hike again so the trip was postponed until the next day. I took intermission and tried to get myself cleaned though water was limited. My feet and hands were streaked with dirt. I rubbed it with water but the stains stayed there. Though I covered my face with Buff, my nostrils and ears were grubby with dusts. I shook my socks out and examined my toes. Even particles of dust had gotten into my toenails, made it seem impossible to retrieve. One of my toenails had blackened resulted from tedious descending. I pulled off my drenched shirt and changed to new dry clothes. I crawled into the tent and took a nap.

When I woke up, it was nearly dinner time. The porters told us that the weather on last dawn was unusually good. We were lucky to hike that day. If there was mountain wind, it would be impossible for us to reach the summit. The wind, rumor has it, is quite strong, it could blow a man away! That night I heard the hissing of mountain wind. It was creepy, I never heard that kind of sound before. As the night falls, the mountain wind blew stronger. The wind had awakened me repeatedly throughout the night, smacking against our tent in great bursts. Thank God I had already peed before going to bed.

I woke at morning but couldn't bring myself up, lingering instead in my warm sleeping bag, half reluctant to leave the tent, still drowsy though I'd slept for eight hours. I stood out of the tent slowly, my muscles stiff from yesterday's hike. The sun rose so bright, blinding me with glistening orange rays. The porters were cooking breakfast, they made triple sandwiches with salad, smoke beef, cheese, and omelette inside. American style breakfast. While waiting for the breakfast ready, I went searching for a good spot to do my business. I scanned the landscape. I almost stepped over a pile of scat. In fact, there were many of them! I learned that anyone could just squat anywhere and enjoy the open-air toilet with a view. It's a pity that the beauty of the mountain was disturbed by heaps of trashes and craps. Used toilet papers and tissues scattered everywhere. The porters and local people seemed not to care about environment at all, they are more pleased to believe in myths and ghost stories.

Our porters and how they cook

I was ready for the trip to the lake. However, my two buddies had no interest visiting the lake, so I went there accompanied only with the guide and one porter. I walked with ease as I had no backpack on. My stuffs were packed and carried by the porter. The lake is quite far from the campground, it takes approximately two hours to get there. I walked through the meadows. The trail is different from the one to the summit, it's mostly sandwiched by weeds and shrubs. It was a fine day to wander, the weather was not too hot, neither too cold. There were many other hikers and porters passing by. We were like little ants, greeted one another, walking towards the giant soup bowl and then back.

A porter with 20 kg load. No shoes, just sandals!

Up, up, up to the lake

Segara Anak and Mount Barujari

When I arrived at the lake, I was amazed by the sight of Mount Barujari. I walked along the edge of the lake and saw many people fishing. How could fish live in crater lake?! I was even more surprised to see dozens of fish were salted and dried in the heat of sun. My porter was supposed to cook lunch for me. However, there was a group of campers cooking. When they saw me, they invited me to join them lunch. There were six guys of them, I couldn't recall any of their names. They were around their 40s, nice and friendly. We ate fish curry and talked about yesterday's hike. They apparently witnessed my struggles in the hike. They had seen I was aided with bungee straps and they envied. They wanted to be aided with bungee straps too! I laughed and told them one must be desperate enough while hiking to get such luxury.

After having lunch, I continued walking to the hot spring. I hadn't had a proper bath for two days, my hair was dense with dust and dried sweat, I wanted to soak myself in the water. It took 10 minutes to walk there. When I arrived, the place was crowded by foreigners. There's a waterfall surrounded by giant rocks and boulders. The clouds of steam rising up from the warm water. I changed my clothes and bathed into the spring. It looked like a kind of sulfuric spring because the water was quite yellowish. I rubbed my hands and legs and soaked my hair. Though it felt pretty good but I couldn't stay there for long, I had to return to the campground. Tomorrow was my last day, it was nearly the time to fly back to Jakarta.

The hot spring

I walked back to the lake, said goodbye to the guys, and headed back to Plawangan Sembalun. The trip back to the campground took three hours. I like the meadows but I was sick with the rocks. I had seen too many rocks on the trail. I really had to exert my energy to climb them. My porter was left behind, he seemed like talking to foreigners, he stopped once in a while to greet ones and cheered them. I thought he might come later after me. But when I arrived at the tent, how startled I was seeing him sitting in the tent! "How could you possibly arrive earlier than me?" I asked him, but he only nodded and started cooking for dinner.

Last day of the trail. I prepared my backpack, loading it with dirty clothes and stuffs. Its weight still tremendous to me. I waved goodbye to the sight of summit and the lake and started walking back to Sembalun village. We walked on the same route as we had on the first day of trail. I walked and walked and walked, it seemed like never ending walk. My toenails felt hurt bearing the weight of my body while descending the trail. It was scorching day too. I forgot to put on sunscreen. For the first time in forever, my face got sunburn. I passed a small herd of brown cows eating grass freely in the prairie. When I walked passing them, they stopped eating and stood still in line, lifted their heads up and watched me pass. I looked over my shoulder and once again saw the crest of Rinjani. It's done. It's over. I had gone through days walking the way up and down the trail, visiting one of the most beautiful mountains on Earth, and I eventually checked my bucket list. The cows seemed bidding farewell to me. Bye bye, cows. Bye bye, Rinjani.

Conquering Third Language

A friend of mine once asked me, "Why are you so determined in learning German?"

I promptly answered, "Because I want to understand the people."

She was startled by this statement. I couldn't find better answer, as much true and straightforward as it is.

I stayed in Germany for a short period, I could just use English anyway. I was told by some colleagues for not to put much efforts in learning language. Take it easy, they said. You're already good enough speaking English. Nevertheless, I took beginners course in Goethe-Institut within three months before leaving Jakarta. It was A.1.1 level, the starting point for absolute beginners. Well, at least I could learn how to order pizza, I reassured myself.

First week in Germany, I ended up buying ready-to-made pizza and made myself one instead of eating in restaurant. In the first attempt going to restaurant, I was completely ignored, because the waitress couldn't speak English. I eventually made my order by gesturing what I wanted, pointing to the menus and indicating my desired meal. Even more that I couldn't read the menus, I took only good looking food, presuming and praying that it would fit my taste and appetite. Who said it would be easy.

Everywhere I go, I tried to make friends, to communicate with neighbors and colleagues. Not everybody could speak English which was hardly taken for granted initially. In addition, cultural distinctions bewildered me. What seemed normal in my native land is not the same in this country, and it applies the other way around. It occurred to me that I was like an alien, a total stranger. I need to adapt, but the language barrier hold my self-esteem down low. How was I supposed to settle if I couldn't understand what people said and couldn't handle a single conversation?

As social being, I wish to be regarded by others, to be accepted as meaningful member in the circle. I want to contribute to the community as well. However, I was too illiterate to even read bus schedules, too hesitant to ask information at the ticket counter, too slow in the line paying groceries at the customers checkout, I was so sick with my inabilities that the urge to learn language became a dire need. I want to know what story in that drama television is about. I want to be able to talk without having to search for my words. I want to read books without needing to look for dictionary every minute.

I looked for language courses and thankfully I found one in Volkshochschule. I took the placement test, and to my surprise, my score put me in Module 4, I was considered no longer a beginner. I took the evening class twice per week, four hours long in each lessons. First day in class, I didn't understand any of what the teacher had said. My mind was flooded with new unfamiliar words. I was too overwhelmed to look for Google Translate, so I noted it all down and studied the definition later. The teacher was a young, PhD title holder, blond hair lady, whom I thought was a German but apparently is a Polish. I never missed her class, I actually liked it. I looked forward for Tuesday and Thursday to come. There were individual tasks and also group works, in which I had to learn together with my classmates. They come from several different countries. It's interesting to hear their stories about their homelands and their hopes and dreams in Germany.

At the workplace, I absorbed everything I heard and overheard: chit-chats, greetings, meetings, and phone conversations. I mimicked every common expressions my colleagues used to show pleasure, regret, surprise, exhilaration, exhaustion, dissatisfaction, confusion, embarrassment, and many other emotions. Just like a baby learns to talk, I copied and digested words by words, devoured all I could. Besides, there are lots of learning material in the internet. One site I always access is germanpod101.com, they provide great audio lessons which helped improving my German.

Though I did well in the course, it seemed like it's never enough. I came to realize that it takes time to be a fluent speaker. I've learned English since I was in elementary school, that made 15 years learning to truly understand the context and to articulate it in everyday use. Funny how I don't really remember having any struggles learning English, I just....learned it. On the other hand, learning German is my conscious decision. I know for sure how difficult it is, because thinking in German is totally different from thinking in English. To understand the context requires frequent studying and practicing. Determination and hard work will always pay off, I believe it so.

Six months passed by quickly. I finished my course as well my training. I returned to Indonesia with more determination. I took proficiency test in Goethe-Institut which placed me in B.1.2 level. I have advanced six levels from the previous A.1.1 course. My current learning goal is to reach minimum C.1 level and to acquire Goethe-Zertifikat C1 for my next year's Masters study. I continued learning in Goethe-Institut, I tried writing E-mails in German, and mingling with German colleagues just to keep myself surrounded by the language and make progress step by step.

Though it sounds weird, but the struggles I've been encountering so far are boredom and embarrassment. There were times I was so bored that I questioned myself, "Why the am I bothering to learn this language?!" When the motivation goes down, I would narrow down my expectation for a while, from expecting that I want to be fluent someday to at least I could understand what the weather report says. Keeping the motivation high is like having battle against myself. There were also many embarrassing moments when I wanted to say something but ended up humiliating myself with funny grammar and strange accent that native people would laugh. I even once couldn't differentiate how to pronounce schon and schön, it sounded just the same to me until I knew the difference. It's stupid, but at least I am trying. Instead of keeping my mouth shut, I learned better when I made mistakes.

I'm glad I learned a lot during my time in Germany. I met many new people I could connect with easily. We spent good times, they're even expecting my return back to Germany, as if I'd gone for a while and will come back soon. I could feel the pressure on my shoulders, aiming to achieve my goals as quickly as possible. Back to the question, "Why would I learn German?" I would add, "I want to understand people and I want to know how to make them understand me."

Okay, dann halte ich die Ohren steif!

Mount Salak (2211 m.a.s.l.)

My hometown is known located close to Mount Salak, When the weather is clear, the mountain could be seen anywhere from the town. It looks beautiful. I never thought of hiking that mountain until last two weeks. The running club I've been joining for two years, organized an event, to run from the entry point of Salak forest until the top of Summit 1 (Mount Salak has three summits). The track is crossing through Ratu Crater, which I am already familiar because I was there once. Seven months ago I did trail running to that crater with the same group (here was the post), I thought the distance from the crater to the top wouldn't be too far. Well, it takes only 10 km, seemed could be done in two hours, but what I didn't know was the trail condition. It was inferno.

Mount Salak as seen from the town

We started driving from the town at 5:30 am, arrived at the entry point at 7:00 and started running at 08:00. There were 28 members, most of us carried small backpack loaded with personal provision. I fulfilled my Deuter rucksack with headlamp, hand towel, one liter of water, and small amount of food. I actually brought myself two food containers consist of fruits for snacks and salad for lunch, but I was really hungry, that I took them all as breakfast, leaving only two granola bars as my only survival stock. We ran leisurely through the jungle, arrived at the crater at 09:00, half an hour faster than estimated time. We were optimistic to reach the peak at noon.

At the top of crater

We did not waste time at the crater, took only few pictures, then continued hiking through the dense forest. The beginning of the trail is hidden by thick bedrock. I had to literally climb the sulfuric boulders and cling on the roots of dead tree. I began sweating and panting. A few kilometers afterwards I scanned the landscape, there were jutted trees and sharp rocks along the trail. My feet already went numb and my palm blistered for embracing trunks and prickly branches. The trail gets harder, each step was a toil, as I ascended higher and higher still, interfered with only short occasional descents, which were not so much break. I was not walking, more like falling and skidding and trudging along. My pants covered with mud, my trail running shoes went wet and dry and wet again. I walked carefully, couldn't help but hitting the sharp branches and knife-edge stones. The elevation gets higher, the trail gets more precipitous. I was astounded just by the view of it, felt uneasy with my situation, yet didn't have any option other than to hike through it.

Unbelievable elevation

Along the way, I counted every milestones I could find. There were around fifty milestones started from the intersections of the trail. There was a sign that reads "5 km ahead to the summit". Five kilometers sounded not far, but with such elevation, I barely could reach the top in less than one hour. In the next thirty minutes, the voice in my head was screaming, "What have I gotten myself into?!?" I tried to hum as I hiked, but it was too difficult to hum while panting and also moaning in agony. I'd never actually hiked a mountain before. Not even once!! The most similar experience I had is when I ran for Bromo Marathon in 2014 with elevation up to 2400 m. However, that was running, not hiking, not even walking into the wilderness. So this would be my first time hiking to the summit, in one day trip!!

Best place for 'knee exercises' :)

I asked myself, "Would Mount Rinjani also be like this?" Though I've never gone backpacking but I've been planning to hike Mount Rinjani in August. The sole reason why I joined Salak trip was to train myself walking on high elevation. However, I didn't expect that it would be this dangerous. Passing through open and active volcano crater, climbing the rocks, clinging on trees, crawling in deep muddy soil, and jumping above the cliff (!!), all were done for the sake to reach the summit. There were 10 milestones to go but I already ran out of supplies. I finished my last granola bar and the last drop of water. I stopped every fifteen minutes just to catch up my breath. The peak yet seemed far still. As I evaluate the land, I realized that I'd come far enough by now that the terrain had begun to change. The landscape around the crater was arid, dominated by dead trees that would creak while stepped on. While the vegetation around me was damp, packed by sagebrush and crammed with wiry branches and chunky roots. A rainforest, indeed. An unfriendly forest for visitors. I hiked the last 500 meter where thick fog resulting from condensation in the air from the earth's surface below was begun to rise and cover the whole peak. The cliff before me was covered with fog, no one could really measure how deep it was and how the ground looked like.

Thick fog

With such painful trail, I was expecting to see magnificent view from the top. I came to small flat area where there was a signpost written "Salak Summit 2211 masl". I scanned the surrounding only to conclude disappointment for having nothing to see. The landscape was merely covered by tall weeds. Half of the open field in the middle was occupied by campers. There were many people camped for a night to see sunrise, for which they were speculating and finger-crossing for clear weather. I was relieved to find a place for me to lay down. I was hot, thirsty, hungry, and too tired to take selfies, I decided to take power nap instead. I closed my eyes, trying to sleep with humid air and blinding sunlight. It was 13:30 pm, I was worried of how long would it takes to arrive down there again, to come back at the starting point.

The big group

An hour later we started to walk down the mountain, tracing back the same path we had been through. I was just hoping we could make it before sunset, otherwise it would be too dark to see. I thought it would be easier going down than going up because of gravity pull, but apparently it was twice harder. I had to squat and stepped my foot down carefully. Skidding and sliding down treacherous slopes and side by side of a cliff or crashing onto the rocks below. This trail did not make any sense. It's an absolute jungle, you could hardly walk through it, unless if you're a Tarzan or something. It's not a place for regular human being. I spent hours walking in tortured reverie, fantasizing about favorite things to keep myself entertained. I climbed down the trail by embracing trunks of tree or grasping branches until my palms blistered. Along the way I noticed a dung, not sure from which kind of animal, it seemed freshly laid, untouched from its spot. It looked like dark blueberries stacked in pyramid form. It might be laid by wild boar, monkey, or mountain lion. I came to realize that I was in wilderness, It's possible that mountain lions still inhabit this terrain, Mount Salak is known as sacred mountain, people coming up and stopping by at the crater then coming down again, only few would dare to hike the summit.

While pondering of how stupid I was for taking such risk, I realized that I was walking alone. The front group already disappeared before me while the back group was too far behind me. I was too slow catching up the first group but too fast for the other group to catch me up. I stopped for a while to scrutinize my situation. There was no sound, neither signs of movement. No crackle of twig, no rustle of bushes, not even a gust of wind, just silence around me. I was uncertain whether to continue walking or to wait for the latter group. Suddenly the rain started to pour. I cursed myself for not bringing raincoat or umbrella. I could have had suffered hypothermia, shivering and starving to death in deep forest. From distance I could hear my friends rumbling while taking their raincoats out of backpack. I was relieved to the fact that they were not far away from my location, that I was at the right track. I continued walking, half wet by the rain that went off and on and off again, resulting to muddier trail, forming potholes up to my ankles. Some parts of the trail was flooded by water. The route seemed apparent enough, I reassured myself, After an hour, I stopped, suddenly scared. "Was I on the right track??" All the while, I'd been searching for plastic-made blue ribbon markers that occasionally tied to trees, but I hadn't spotted any. I decided to slow down my pace so my friends behind could catch me up. We eventually regrouped with 8 members just before the sun set.

We arrived back at the crater around 18:00 pm, I was surprised to see how vast the crater had become, thick stinky smoke spread all over the landscape and lowered our vision. It seemed the volcano had become more active in the night that the natural thermal springs become hotter too. I could see some spots exposed with boiling sulfuric soil here and there. I climbed down the rocks carefully, searching for stones to grip. I startled when the stone which I was trying to grip felt so hot, my hand immediately released it. If I moved the stone from its original place, natural gas would made its way out from the soil, expanded and diffused in the air. I crossed the springs by tiptoeing the river stones, climbed up and down several times until I made it to the end of crater. I glanced around, the view of the crater was eerie and mystical. Nobody dared to take pictures. We presumed our journey back to entry point, still five kilometers to go. There's no shortcut, we could not bypass and we had no other option than tracing back the same route.

We turned on our flashlights and headlamps as the night comes. It was so dark and my headlamp beamed a small range of light. My eyes fixed on the track as I bracing myself for the trail ahead. Within the group, I walked in the middle, I felt more safer to be in between. Though there were eight of us, we were all quiet, we kept walking and concentrating on the track. It was a slow march because of thousands of spiked rocks and pebbles that scattered along the way of the trail. The trail's gravelly surface was palpable to the soles of my feet through the bottoms of my shoes. I was in a living hell. My feet felt like on fire, my soles rubbed raw, my ankles strained, my leg muscles and joints aching, yet the trail seemed never ending. The hunger, thirst, and exhaustion were unbearable, I never experienced such extreme fatigue before.

The situation was getting worse when my friend who walked at the front said that the path seemed like deja vu. She was uncertain, we were too. Sometimes the path looked like a dead end, sometimes it has one or two false paths, and sometimes the path was hidden by shrubs. Fortunately one of us had GPS-tracker, he checked the route on GPS and confirmed that we were on the right track. That worried me less than the fact that I couldn't see the trail ahead because it was in total dark. It was 18:30 pm and I was sick by this endless trail. I was dehydrated for five hours, I craved for water more than anything else. The agony made everyone of us sensitive and wacky. We outcried for food and water. Hallucination slowly developed in my mind, I thought I was seeing a river but I was wrong. Another friend thought of seeing a ghost, startled for a second, but did not say it out loud and continued walking. I, too, had the same bizarre feeling. Rumours had it that Mount Salak is inhabited by spirits. There were several planes crashed into the mountain cliff. The most recent one was Sukhoi jet accident in which 45 people died, zero survivor. The thought of it scared me. I hoped we could survive out of this jungle and be safely arrived home.

All of sudden, there was a sound of man coughing. We were not sure from which direction but we were elated, thinking there might be other people somewhere around, perhaps a village man passing nearby us. We called and yelled, "Hello!?", but there was no response. We were confused by the situation, the voice of coughing sounded near but there was no sight of man. We continued walking until we found the water spring. It was miracle to eventually finding water source. I filled up my Hydrapak, drank half of it, and re-filled it to brim. We rested for five minutes and progressed walking. An hour later, by the grace of God, we arrived back at the entry gate. "It's done, it's over!" I thought with gratitude. I beat Salak Summit though my body was traumatized by what it had taken to get there.

It was 20:00 pm, there was still another group left behind. We rested and waited for them. I ate dinner prepared by local coffee shop which we booked the day before to provide us dinner. The owner confirmed our question about the sound of man's cough, it was actually the sound of wild boars inhabiting the mountain. So what we heard before was not a man but wild boar!! Thank goodness we didn't meet it face-to-face! I examined my legs, there were bruises resulted from frequent stumbling upon gravels and protruded roots. My running shoes were streaked with dirt, its pink colour had disappeared, replaced by brown muddy stain. The night was getting colder, I covered myself with emergency blanket, thinking of the latter group. There were ten of them, I was really worried. It was a hard trail, they must be facing and struggling the same difficulties. It was 22:00 pm but they had not yet come. Me and the girls went home earlier, leaving the boys who were waited for the last group that finally arrived at 01:00 am (!) I was grateful to know all of us went home safely.

The trail as recorded in GPS tracker

I woke up the next morning with numbness. In Whatsapp group chat, everybody shared their own experience, one confessed for witnessing a mountain lion passed by, one pleaded for seeing a village near the crater which is never existed, another one said had noticing a face-like-ghost appeared on tree bark. I did notice some weird forms but I ignored it, assuming it was just hallucination resulted from weariness.

Despite of all the odds, I learned how it felt to be in the wild. With what it was like to walk for kilometers for no reason other than to witness the top of mountain. The experience was powerful and addictive. It seemed to me that I felt like a small being in the wild. Hiking Mount Salak would be my first and last time (one time is enough!). My next adventure will be Mount Rinjani in August 19-23. Can hardly wait. :-) 

Jokes on Grandma

Eid Al-Fitr always become the most awaited celebration for most people in Indonesia. It is the longest public holiday when the big family could gather, pay visits to long-lost family members, spend the nights over in hometown, and eat lots of food. This year, my grandma decided to spend holiday at my house, which is unusual. Normally, it's the children who had to visit the elder.

However, I was not that excited in welcoming grandma because I know exactly the big question she has in mind. My sweet grandma is 82 years old and suffering short-term memory loss. She couldn't recall what she had for breakfast an hour ago and whether or not she had taken a bath. Despite of this, she's a lovely, caring grandma, who puts priority of others than herself. In the big family, she's known for helping relatives finding partner. Yup, she's a love cupid. She never forgets to question each of her grandchildren to get boy/girlfriend. She worries the single ones, which none other than me. Consequently, I have to deal with her frequent question, "Dear, have you got a boyfriend?"

She once arranged a date for me with her friend of friend's son. I didn't mind at that time, however it didn't work. She teased me if I'm thinking of getting a boyfriend or if I plan to become a single old lady. Well, I would say building relationsthip takes time, it cannot be imposed. How could the elders become such impatient?

To make her happy and to keep my pride on, I told her, "Grandma, I actually already met a really nice guy. His name is David, a British, very sporty and handsome. We've met in Madame Tussauds Museum in Amsterdam." Then the conversation went like this:

Grandma : "Really??? Show me the picture!"

Me          : (showed her the photo) "Look, grandma, we've even done sports together!!"

Grandma : (examined the photo carefully though she couldn't see well due to her low vision) "Has he ever visited

                 Indonesia? Then, please make it fast. What are you waiting for?

Me          : "Don't worry, grandma. Our relationship will be everlasting."

Grandma : "How could you be so sure if he never visits Indonesia?"

Me          : "Because it's a wax-made relationship."

Grandma : "?????"

Eventually she figured out who the real David is. I couldn't help but laughing. Sorry, grandma.. ;)

David, after this workout, we should pay grandma a visit!!