One time, I was doing groceries in LA like every other weekend. I was going to get a can of pesto sauce on the other end of the aisle. Not feeling like dragging the cart all way to the other end, I left it on one side while walking all the way down for the pesto. It was then I heard a lady shouting. "Whose cart is this? Miss, is this yours?" I nodded. The lady threw me a firm gaze and told me not to leave it unattended as it was dangerous. I had a spitting thought of “So what? That's my cart. You've nothing to do with it.” but instead, i was flustered and begrudgingly walked to my cart, not to leave it ever again.
That case was one out of many things I encountered while living in US for years. Simply put, Americans are so blunt! In a good way. But this then-timid Indonesian student was so shocked when someone walked by to compliment her shoes or jacket. Or the other day I was having my loads of items scanned at the register at Target, and the cashier went “Oooh are you having a party tonight? By the way I love this noodle brand. Great choice!” Should this happen in Indonesia, you'd be suspecting the cashier might be developing a chronic nosy symptom. Should the scenario unfold here, we'd take it skeptically and be like “So, why do you want to know? You think you're getting invited? You're way inside my personal space so fuck off.”
But those little American traits gradually began to ooze into my genes the longer I lived there. They aren't afraid to speak their minds when they need to and overtime, I found myself becoming one of them. When I went back home to Indonesia for good, I had my first fight with a stranger within the first month I settled in. This lady was obviously cutting my line in the grocery store. I eyed the cashier who did nothing (because of course, “customers are kings”, aren't they?), so the ball was in my hand and I went on to tell her off. I remember the look of shame on her eyes but she was still beaming with pride as she told me to move to another empty register. Like what the fuck? Fresh off Uncle Sam, I didn't take this lightly and insisted. “I was here before you, so please.” The lady snatched her items off the register and left spatting curses at me and at the grocery store's management. I knew I hurt her pride but it would've been my pride she hurt even more if I allowed her to take my turn. I had to fight for my rights as a lawful customer there.
And so Dad told me to be more careful in expressing my thoughts. If there's one thing I should start leaving behind in America, that would be the blunt freedom of expression. Well, I don't have to leave it completely but rather tone it down. He said that the people here don't live by having others tell us them to litter on the streets. Rather, the people here see others litter, ignore them, and talk behind their back to their other friends about the former's action. Gossip. That's where it's all leading up to.
Indonesians are so used to bottling up their feelings to protect their image, save their face. We're so used to plastering smiles to face unpleasant situations just so it looks like we're alright with it, when we're not. How many times are you feeling uncomfortable on some situations but you can't do anything about it, and yet you decide to blurt all of those to a friend, when you could've easily defused the situation by simply speaking up?
So I began to live by the rules just to keep things in order, avoid feuds, or even more keep a healthy relationship with whoever I'm acquainted with. It's ironic that despite being so-called the least individualistic people, Indonesians bear the highest sense of pride that having strangers tell them off on one fine day is deemed an offense, a personal attack, regardless the people telling them off did the right thing for a tiny change. People truly care about their personal space. We don't engage in casual conversations about shoes or jackets to strangers (watch out, some of these people starting out the talks might hypnotize you and rob you!–says a Jakarta inhabitant about strangers striking random conversations on the street).
Earlier this year, Jakarta officiated its MRT for the first time and the government started enforcing strict ethics and norms by having people abide to the MRT rules, that eventually and hopefully help improve the nation's ethics in a whole. I've seen some fellow commuters telling others not to stand on the walking side of the elevator, or even a couple strangers inside the train helped a lost boy find his parents back. Hopefully, things are looking up from now on.
However, it's a different case for me. I'm still very much playing safe as much. The next time I see people breaking the law like cutting lines or trying to cut the line by literally shoving their items ahead of yours, I could only still sigh. I guess it's just my pacific-self speaking.
Today was another story. I reached the point where I was tired of playing by the rules. Maybe it would've only happened today. My American-self is trying to soar its way back to the surface in response to three situations. My cousins and I have been planning to chip in for a family outing, and while everyone seemingly excited, conversations died down when it came to the budgeting. I was nearly pushed to the edge that I just had to blurt that if nobody was willing to chip in or if the budget didn't reach expectation, we would have to cancel the outing. Offensive much? It all depends on how you take it. My dad told me such action would strain my relationship with my relatives as some might not take my words well. But if nobody says a thing, other parties would get butthurt anyway. So, in a way telling the truth always saves yourself or others from getting butthurt, although it might cost some relationships. But I didn't care. I felt so much better because at least, my cousins had to hear what they needed to know.
Another minor thing involved me asking my coworker, an Account Executive in charge of assigning and managing projects, for a project I prefer doing. My projects for the past couple of months have been nothing but insightful and exciting, but the value has been stagnant when it comes to my portfolio and design skills. While proposing to be assigned to this or that project may not be a common office practice, i couldn't be more relieved to get it off my chest when my coworker responded positively, although the outcome is still not final.
When a “new friend” asked me out this weekend and insisted on paying for the date, I genuinely refused (to be paid! Not the date!) and said I wasn't getting used to being taken for treats. I couldn't keep quiet and let dates constantly try to buy my affection through my stomach. This may go a little off topic but I honestly don't believe traditional gender roles is still relevant these days: the notion of the guys have to be in charge of paying for meals, driving girls around, indulging them just so they could let their ego soar. In fact, being paid around like I'm some “prize to be won” (shoutout to Princess Jasmine for the reference) subconsciously degrades me as a woman. I believe in gender equality. I don't label myself as a feminist but rather try to show the stigma through little gestures, such as buying my dates snacks and drinks in exchange for them paying for my tickets. They buy me stuff and I buy some stuff for them in return. See? Equal. No egos are supposedly harmed. I'll save some story about this in the next writing.
So what did I learn from all these situations happening simultaneously today? It doesn't hurt to be truthful. As long as we don't mean to hurt others' feelings, speaking the truth spares ourselves from being hurt instead. And once you've let it out, you can't be more relieved.
And so Dad told me to be more careful in expressing my thoughts. If there's one thing I should start leaving behind in America, that would be the blunt freedom of expression. Well, I don't have to leave it completely but rather tone it down. He said that the people here don't live by having others tell us them to litter on the streets. Rather, the people here see others litter, ignore them, and talk behind their back to their other friends about the former's action. Gossip. That's where it's all leading up to.
“So I saw this guy littering earlier today. Geez, when will Jakarta ever change?”
“Okay but then did you do something about it? Did you tell that person off?” *pauses* “See. Change won't happen if you don't do something about it.”
Indonesians are so used to bottling up their feelings to protect their image, save their face. We're so used to plastering smiles to face unpleasant situations just so it looks like we're alright with it, when we're not. How many times are you feeling uncomfortable on some situations but you can't do anything about it, and yet you decide to blurt all of those to a friend, when you could've easily defused the situation by simply speaking up?
So I began to live by the rules just to keep things in order, avoid feuds, or even more keep a healthy relationship with whoever I'm acquainted with. It's ironic that despite being so-called the least individualistic people, Indonesians bear the highest sense of pride that having strangers tell them off on one fine day is deemed an offense, a personal attack, regardless the people telling them off did the right thing for a tiny change. People truly care about their personal space. We don't engage in casual conversations about shoes or jackets to strangers (watch out, some of these people starting out the talks might hypnotize you and rob you!–says a Jakarta inhabitant about strangers striking random conversations on the street).
Earlier this year, Jakarta officiated its MRT for the first time and the government started enforcing strict ethics and norms by having people abide to the MRT rules, that eventually and hopefully help improve the nation's ethics in a whole. I've seen some fellow commuters telling others not to stand on the walking side of the elevator, or even a couple strangers inside the train helped a lost boy find his parents back. Hopefully, things are looking up from now on.
However, it's a different case for me. I'm still very much playing safe as much. The next time I see people breaking the law like cutting lines or trying to cut the line by literally shoving their items ahead of yours, I could only still sigh. I guess it's just my pacific-self speaking.
Today was another story. I reached the point where I was tired of playing by the rules. Maybe it would've only happened today. My American-self is trying to soar its way back to the surface in response to three situations. My cousins and I have been planning to chip in for a family outing, and while everyone seemingly excited, conversations died down when it came to the budgeting. I was nearly pushed to the edge that I just had to blurt that if nobody was willing to chip in or if the budget didn't reach expectation, we would have to cancel the outing. Offensive much? It all depends on how you take it. My dad told me such action would strain my relationship with my relatives as some might not take my words well. But if nobody says a thing, other parties would get butthurt anyway. So, in a way telling the truth always saves yourself or others from getting butthurt, although it might cost some relationships. But I didn't care. I felt so much better because at least, my cousins had to hear what they needed to know.
Another minor thing involved me asking my coworker, an Account Executive in charge of assigning and managing projects, for a project I prefer doing. My projects for the past couple of months have been nothing but insightful and exciting, but the value has been stagnant when it comes to my portfolio and design skills. While proposing to be assigned to this or that project may not be a common office practice, i couldn't be more relieved to get it off my chest when my coworker responded positively, although the outcome is still not final.
When a “new friend” asked me out this weekend and insisted on paying for the date, I genuinely refused (to be paid! Not the date!) and said I wasn't getting used to being taken for treats. I couldn't keep quiet and let dates constantly try to buy my affection through my stomach. This may go a little off topic but I honestly don't believe traditional gender roles is still relevant these days: the notion of the guys have to be in charge of paying for meals, driving girls around, indulging them just so they could let their ego soar. In fact, being paid around like I'm some “prize to be won” (shoutout to Princess Jasmine for the reference) subconsciously degrades me as a woman. I believe in gender equality. I don't label myself as a feminist but rather try to show the stigma through little gestures, such as buying my dates snacks and drinks in exchange for them paying for my tickets. They buy me stuff and I buy some stuff for them in return. See? Equal. No egos are supposedly harmed. I'll save some story about this in the next writing.
So what did I learn from all these situations happening simultaneously today? It doesn't hurt to be truthful. As long as we don't mean to hurt others' feelings, speaking the truth spares ourselves from being hurt instead. And once you've let it out, you can't be more relieved.
And so Dad told me to be more careful in expressing my thoughts. If there's one thing I should start leaving behind in America, that would be the blunt freedom of expression. Well, I don't have to leave it completely but rather tone it down. He said that the people here don't live by having others tell us them to litter on the streets. Rather, the people here see others litter, ignore them, and talk behind their back to their other friends about the former's action. Gossip. That's where it's all leading up to leather bags.
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