HAPPY..UMM...KARTINI'S DAY..WELL...

And one day, somebody in the audience here today..would follow my footstep to be the spouse of the next US President..and I wish him well.

--Barbara Bush, giving a graduation day speech in front of rows and rows of happy-faced youngsters, most of whom were females.

***

I caught a glimpse of that speech on TV some time back, and couldn't help thinking that Barbara herself might realize that she was making a lip service. A female US President? Come on. I mean, COME ON.

We Indonesians really did have a female president, though. And that is because Indonesian females are powerful. That power comes from the long, hard training since our childhood, in the form of Kartini's day competitions.

The competition ranges from kebaya contest to speech contest; and of course: cooking competition which is only for men. The winner of the kebaya contest is the best looking female, or the one who wears the most complicated traditional kebaya (with the perfect fake hair bun, the perfect brooch, the tightest corset), or the combination of the two.

The winner of the speech contest is the one who says "Kartini, our Mother", "women emancipation", "women values", more than 10 times in one go.

And of course, I never give a damn to the winners of the cooking competition.

Oh, please don't get me wrong. I have no doubt that Kartini is one special lady. I'm happy her birthday is one of the most celebrated day in Indonesia.

I have no objection towards kebaya contest, the way I never have objection towards the fact that upon acknowledging Geneve Agreement (which binds countries to have females in ministry-level positions), Indonesia put a female to fill in the position of the newly-created "The State Ministry of Women Roles Issues".

I have no objection, really, that that state-ministry body, apart from being hopelessly useless, also cries out the fact that Indonesians think females are sub-humans who needs help from the government to merely define their roles in the society.

I have no objection that Amina Wadud has to face death punishment for claiming that a muslim woman too, can be an Imam during jemaah prayers, with men praying behind her as her makmums.

I'm not complaining here, hey, I know that the world isn't a fair place, and I have no objection about that.

I have no objection that when I take too long to park my car, drivers behind me don't only say "stupid slow driver!" but also have to spit out "woman driver! no wonder!".

Hell yes, woman driver I am, as female as your momma at home, Boys.

I have no objection being called "spinster", sometimes behind my back, sometimes to my face; I only wonder why that word only applies to females.

I have no objection about comments like "Of course she's chosen for that, she's a spinster! She doesn't have anybody to take care of, she has no life!!", thrown into my face when people heard that I was short-listed for a promotion, or a scholarship; I only wonder why such hurtful comments almost always come from fellow females.

I have no objection that Siti Musdah Mulia's hard work of coming up with a draft of Islamic Law Compilations in a new-light of female perspective got flushed down the toilet by angry male ulamas; I know her work was too good to be true anyway.

I can bear living in this men's world, really.
I can stand being lower-class earth citizen.
I can stand being paid 60 cents for a man's dollar.
I can even stand watching one more Kartini's day parade without vomiting my breakfast, my lunch, my dinner, my heart, my anger, all over the floor.

When all sexism pains me too much, I'd just bow my head a little -- look at my developed breasts, and get my boost of instant happiness.

Hell yes, I have no objection whatsoever about being a female.

Happy April Fool's day, may you and I stay foolish all our lives.

ENCHANTED EVENING

I had a chance to see Ananda Sukarlan's piano solo performance some time back. It was a show of human genius, hard work, and dedication -- I wonder how a person of his quality could manage to stay so humble.

The show was free of charge, and the smallish place was packed with mostly fashionable youngsters in their early 20's.

When Ananda greeted us all and said that he was gonna play contemporary music (mostly of Spanish composers, I think), my heart sank a bit. Well, perhaps I'm a country-bumpkin after all, because I expected him to play Chopin or Bach.

Still it was great witnessing a great musician performing. During break-time, none of the audience left the room. "Aren't you hungry? Wouldn't anyone grab a snack before we continue?" the friendly pianist asked.

Nobody moved, so he said "Why don't I play something different..." and began playing Chopin's Nocturne a bit. To my surprise, the audience laughed, and he laughed as well, saying "Ughh..I don't want to play that...I know you're bored with it..I'm here to play contemporary pieces after all."

My heart sank even lower.

I wanted him to play classic, romantic, or baroque music so much..and I knew some people in the audience wanted the same thing. Maybe Ananda could sense it, because he at last removed his music sheets and said "I'll play Mozart's Romansa..if you're bored with this, you could step out and get your dinner perhaps.."

So there I was, feeling thoroughly happy at last.

After the break, he was back to playing contemporary music again (arrr!). "I need Stanley to turn the book-page for me," he said, searching for this Stanley in the audience. "Stanley?? If you could give me a hand.."

My second surprise of the evening was when I saw "Stanley" climbed down from the audience seat and onto the stage. I guess I had expected him to be older, so seeing that he was still in his late teens, very good looking in his white T and faded jeans, was a kinda jaw-dropping experience.

"He was so young!!" I wanted to whisper to my friend who was there with me, "and to be able to turn the pages for Ananda, means he must be familiar with the notes, which means he must have been practising with him, which means he must be a top-level piano student, which..."

But I kept my mouth shut, and watched Stanley tapped his foot and nodded in rhythm with the music, and turned the pages for Ananda in time, for the rest of the evening.

Oh my God.

I must admit that had Stanley played classical guitar or violin, I wouldn't have been that amazed. Not that playing guitar or violin is easier than playing the piano, but piano is an instrument very close to my heart.

I know nothing about playing guitar or violin, but I have spent two-third of my life trying to learn how to play the piano well -- to no avail.

At the end of the evening, while Ananda bowed and thanked the audience, the clapping wouldn't stop, people started demanding a "bonus" performance, and I told my friend how I wished he would play classical again.

"What do you want me to play? I didn't prepare a bonus," Ananda said.

"CHOPIN!!!" I wanted to scream. But I was too shy. Then I got yet another surprise:
"CHOPIN!! CHOPINNNN!!!" screamed a very beautiful girl behind me. She was in her early 20's and dressed casually sexy: I bet she'd look even sexier when she sat on her piano playing Chopin.

"I'll play Beethoven..but I didn't practise this," Ananda said, and the audience chuckled.

Ooohh Beethoven is okay. Very okay.
I almost purred with near-orgasmic ecstasy listening to it.

But the real orgasmic experience was seeing how -- after the show ended -- the sexy girl was joined by her friends (who had been sitting at the other part of the tiny concert room) and they all chatted enthusiastically about the show. I knew that they knew what they were talking about.

It touched me to see a roomful of young classical music enthusiasts; I wondered whether in a few years' time I would be attending their concerts.