The other nite last week, as i paid the cashier my internet fee, I looked up at the white-turned-cream unkempt clock on the wall, a few inches from the temple of this never-smiled man. Then darted my eyes on him and noticed he gave me a cold blank look as he gave me the change. He returned my thanks with a bitter half-hearted smile. He usually works in the afternoon to evening shift, mostly keep anything to himself. A short man with curly black hair and dark complexion, a sad face even when he has to smile to anyone. Well, hope he's feeling okay, I said to myself, now stood in front of the net cafe, looked left and right, the streams of motorcycles and a few cars. I didnt feel like going to the rooming house. Yan picked up my call impressively quickly, as quick as his yes to my asking for a ride to Bali Mal Galeria, I kind of need a new reading stuff, I told him.
As soon as we parked Yan's motorcycle and entered the Gramedia bookstore, Yan swarmed around, tried to please himself with whatever book that caught his attention. I turned left to the imported book section. Very few stuffs they got over there. It was a bit disappointing, though I expected them to be slightly affordable but not that pricey. Comparing to the translated version, the English one is way to pricey. I ended up bought December issue of Reader's Digest Asia edition and a German for Beginner pocket book--the one which I've been reading and memorizing some of its practical phrases. Ich name ist.... and i always stuck at It's very nice to see you!!
And that kind of reminds me a few years ago when i found myself, among the rest of my friends moaning Hell no..!! The faculty authority came up with decision of adding German language for two terms, compulsory. The funny thing was that the protest was short-lived, we sighed yet we ended up sat and exchanged smiles to each other, um, mostly to the man of the room himself. Short and clean shaven, nice fair skin and classy haircut, Mr.Iforgothisname introduced himself and impressed us with his educational background, his occasional stay in Germany, and though we had never mentioned this between any of us, men or girls, we love his fresh-mint breath. Dude, it was so high school, i know!
Then he was gone for reasons we had never whole-heartedly accepted, something to do with his primary teaching classes/hours at the public university. Funny; his wife happened to be German lecturer herself and took over the class. MOst of us failed to offer our old enthusiasm, and during the final term exam, we sucked, got C was everywhere, B was mostly cherished, None got A. She made us singing O Tannenbaum....o tannenbaum when it was still June. She was a sweetheart, it was just that we were more into this fresh-mint husband. The gamblers dudes on the last row admitted so.
The Deutchewelle [DW] radio from Germany had once sent me four books of German courses, way earlier before the German class at the univ, but I tossed them all away. I had not only no interest but also the books are for Advance learner.
Anyway, when we headed back home, it was almost ten, and Yan rode the motorcycle with occasional yawn, Yes, I'm sort of sleepy. And we were so damn lucky!! It turned out that the local administrative [citizenship officer] just made their monthly round-up Balinese ID card inspection to the house. Both of us basically got away from it. It feels like I'm a criminal, uninvited Indonesian in my own land. Not to mention, it aint easy to get local ID card in Bali.
"Dude, we are so safe," Yan said, excitedly, stood in front of his room, his face were lit by the stream of light from his TV, "at least, for this month."
