Today was a lovely but really really tiring day for me. It was the day when iB Kompasiana Blogshop was held. And I could hardly wait for the D-day. There're Kompasianers with a lot of profile pictures that, if you scrutinize, convey different auras as you get to know them offline. I felt like I was going to go to a blind date. Seriously? A blind date? It's the thrill that keeps pushing us to think and guess, "Are those Komapsianers as cool as their online personas??" I held that thought for days, and today was the day when I could finally unfold the mystery. On Friday (July 23rd, 2010), I started to feel the thrill, anxiously trying to find out who was going to be there, at the event. The thrill was so huge that I forgot I got flu. The runny nose and a slight fever came to torture. The following day (Saturday), I was getting better. I went to bed early so as to be as fit as I can on Sunday (today). But by saying "getting better", it didn't truly mean I fully recover. The runny nose was still as annoying as before and I shivered a bit that day. No significant advancement, but I was OK. Then came the D-day. I got up earlier (at 5.25 am, which is VERY early for my standard). My flu wasn't away, still. But I was quite sure it was OK to take a cold bath (a decision I regretted badly now as I'm sneezing more often). [caption id="attachment_208479" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Jakartans are celebrating car-free day."][/caption] Around 7.10 am, I got ready and dashed out of my cramped rent room. I was ready to go. As I made a few steps from the house, it dawned on me that my laptop was sort of hefty. It was like 4-5 tons for my tiny, fragile spine. I started to see the CAR FREE DAY commotion near Sampoerna Strategic skyscraper. Lots of people were rejoicing the fresh morning air, enjoying the cloudy Sunday with no cars or buses (except TransJakarta buses of course). That was the first time I saw this celebration, when Jakartans leave their cars and motorbikes at home and kick the pedals of their bicycles. And as I looked at them, I was stunned by a middle-aged man, blowing his dear cigarette while taking a break from his brisk walk. I couldn't figure out what was going through his head. I mean, is there anything crazier than having an abundant amount of healthy things to do but refuse them only to succumb to that devilish smoke? ? I take pity on such people, I do. So I stepped my feet on Stasiun Beos, Jakarta Kota. I was clueless what to take to lead me to the venue: PRJ Fair Ground. I asked a man for a hope he would provide me a satisfactory answer. But he calmly said, "Sorry, I'm confused myself. I have no idea." I soon found out the answer from an old guy leaning on his old vintage bike. So I crossed the street as he advised and took a bajaj to the place. Finding a hardly-ever-visited place in Jakarta is quite an adventure, just like Tarzan and his lost city. Frustrating and painful, but definitely worth the frustration and pain combined. In the Desperate Search of Gate J As getting off the vibrating and deafening bajaj and stepping my feet on the fair ground, I realized the venue was like hundreds steps away. And I had to walk, alone, in the morning. "This ought to be healthy," I said by heart.  With 3-kilogram luggage on my back pack, I kept walking. Sure, I struggled to walk upright. My torso wasn't particularly prepared for this kind of exercise. As I started perspiring profusely and gasping for fresh air, I reached the gate where two security officers seated themselves. I asked them where was the venue. So I was told it was Gate J. It wasn't far but I was already dying dehydrated. I found Gate K on the direction board, but Gate J was nowhere to be found. Like an utter moron, I walked and cast my eyes around me a thousand times. "God damn, Gate J.., Gate Jerk!" I cursed, again, by heart. I gave up and resolved to ask a security officer. He asked me where I'd go and what I was going in for. I said I was about to attend Kompasiana Blogshop. "What? Come again? Kompas? Any invitation?" that man requested. I said no invitation could be shown. It actually made me like a fool. So next time I hope Kompasiana may have a better idea, like allowing the registered participants of Blogshop to print a proof of registration. I felt like I was an intruder, though I totally wasn't. I was there for a cause. A good, noble cause. Hmm, not really noble actually, it was free and why couldn't I use this to get some "free lunch"? Oh, that's too blatant. At the entrance, a young man came after me. He was Rangga, another Kompasianer looking enthusiastic to meet up with other Kompasianers. We chatted for a while as we were in the elevator. To be honest, I do hate elevator. And what is more, this elevator has transparent side facing toward 6-storey height. I'm an acrophobic, so taking a transparent elevator seems to be the least favorite thing to start my day. As I hopped out of it, I couldn't contain my joy and relief! I'm safe and intact. In Lawu Ball Room It's a ball room or not, I don't really care. But if any of you wants to hold a ball, it seems it can hold a hundred of people in it. The first sensation was of course, the temperature. I got an advanced stadium of flu that day and as I found out how frigid the room temp was, I decided to always wear my jacket. Though I did, I still kept sneezing, and my runny nose was worsening. Really, it was more like a simulation of the worst Alaskan winter in Indonesia. Later I learned I wasn't the only participant got frozen by the inhumanely cold AC temperature. We all complained! [caption id="attachment_208485" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="The room is awaiting participants."][/caption] I chose the front-most seat. Thank you for guessing I'm a fervent participant but I was simply there to find a power socket- the energy source for my dying laptop with a battery that runs only 5 minutes. I sat there and jumped for relief as I spotted a power socket there. I thanked God for this. I already brought this heavy laptop all the way long and it wasn't particularly funny not to be able to use it here, right when I needed it most. I met with Dian Kelana, a grey-haired Kompasianer with his bulging bag which I thought weighed at least five kilograms. He had a huge camera with him, and he took pictures more than a hundred times throughout the events, I guess. Indeed, he was a gifted photographer. Props to him for the lovely pics in his live report! Another Kompasianer I met was Fathoni Arif. At first, I thought he was pretty strong with his thin black t-shirt, "Wow, I'm cold and he looks fine without jacket!" A moment later, I knew I was wrong. He started to bend his torso and hold both of his arms. Ok, he may not look as strong as I thought before. And a few minutes later, he grumbled and rubbing his arms. Then I knew he was just like me. Slow but sure, we were cold to death. Other Kompasianers I'm already quite familiar with were Zulfikar Akbar and Babeh Helmi. They sat somewhere in the middle. Well, it was the first time I saw them in person. I got surprised a bit as I know they look very much different from the profile pictures. Profile pictures are often misleading but I never thought that misleading. Babeh Helmi doesn't use his own picture there so it was understandable he looked different. But as for Zulfikar Akbar, I thought he was wearing his glasses, but he wasn't. [caption id="attachment_208474" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Janu is in action."][/caption] The Kompasiana Bloshop Celebrities Pepih Nugraha is no doubt the star, although he appeared last. The first speaker was Iskandar Zulkarnaen, the second was a veteran photographer named Gunadi Haryanto, and the next was Janu Dewandaru, who was eloquently presented his material on iB (stands for "Islamic Banking" if I'm not mistaken) Sharia Banking. The first session was presented by Iskandar Zulkarnaen. He explicated the essence of Citizen Journalism. He repeatedly referred to Citizen Journalism as CG /si: ji:/ instead of CJ /si: jei/. It was a slight ignorance of English pronunciation which was later corrected indirectly by someone I forgot. The later was Gunadi Haryanto's turn to perform on stage. He confidently presented the materials by simply explaining a bunch of photo slides he took in various spots in Indonesia.  Awesomely cool (and the picture of almost-nude Papuan man with his long black koteka succeeded to make me drop my jaw to the floor)! It was an introductory lesson for those who never learn photography like me. He was mentioning about composition, the rule of third, and a lot of other photography things I'm clueless about. After that, Janu Dewandaru came to sight. The young man presented topics on Sharia Banking. There were some sharia banking terms I never encountered before, and thanks to his detailed expalanation, I now know. I myself am a customer of sharia banking already. I couldn't agree more as he spoke, "Sharia banking is aimed at everyone, regardless of their faiths, races, or anything. It's not a religious but a business entity." And it was a bit startling to find Susi Susanti - the gold medal winner of badminton- as one of sharia bank customers. She launched a shop somewhere in Kelapa Gading, Jakarta, and she apparently asked sharia bank for financial assistance. So I thought, "Everyone is entitled to enjoying the benefits of sharia banking." [caption id="attachment_208537" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Pepih Nugraha is a practical joker who successfully makes us laugh to tears."][/caption] The last was another seasoned journalism figure, Pepih Nugraha. He started to lecture on stage about how to become a great citizen journalist. This high-foreheaded journalist masterfully captured everyone's attention with his crispy jokes. He's a practical joker, according to my observation. He innocently showed several pictures full of gore, corpse of a miserable man hit by train, and the horror face of the deceased. And it was in fact lunch time but seeing the whole pictures managed to drive my appetite away, far away.
Becoming a (Dilettante) Citizen Journalist I didn't know why after dhuhur pray, almost no one was in the room. I supposed there was another session before reporting the exhibition. I guessed the other Kompasianers were still having lunch or praying. But I was wrong. They all had gone downstairs, covering great topics to report. And I was upstairs, not realizing the clock was ticking. Mas Iskandar saw me and he must've been thinking I was done reporting. There were two other girls I saw in the room. They looked like fellow Kompasianers. They were continually taking pictures on the empty stage very shamelessly, ignoring the presence of other people there including me. I heard they asked why the next session wasn't commenced yet, but they soon found out all Kompasianers (except them and me) were at that moment making their live report on the fair ground. I dashed out of the room, not because of my spirit to cover some great topics but more because of my complete shame! How come I had no idea about this? [caption id="attachment_208492" align="alignleft" width="249" caption="The SPG with hanbok."][/caption] The two girls waited for the elevator. I, as an acute acrophobic, shunned it and preferred emergency stairs. Whether I climbed down the stairs quite fast or not but a moment later I bumped into these two girls again right before the entrance to the exhibition. They appeared puzzled, so did I. We all had no idea what to cover or whom to interview. And there we were, looking around and in an ultimate level of desperation I decided to greet the girls. They introduced themselves as Retno and Rika. As we started to know each other, we went in to the exhibition together. Rika seemed interested in something so Retno and I left her. As we went to one of the halls, I ran into Iswanti. She's a new Kompasianer and confessed to know me by my comment. I got confused which comment she was talking about. I left so many comments I can't recall one by one. Bad memory? Could be. And one thing I keep wondering up to now is how she knows me by name and comment only? I edited and changed my profile pictures so much but I still get 'caught'? Coming into the hall, I sighted a multitude of buses, cars and trucks being showcased. I stepped into the buses to feel the sensation of taking a fancy bus. We then moved around. Iswanti was very persistent in reporting a type of Fuso truck she found in Brastagi. She bombarded the SPG (Sales Promotion Guy, not Girl as you may guess) and I took pity on the SPG as he appeared overwhelmed by Iswanti's endless supply of questions. And after all, she wan't buying anything. I got hopeless, "What to write about??" I have no interest in automotive industry, even a tad. And I had to write about automotive exhibition? That sounded as impossible as crossing a hundred-split string of hair. Then I spotted something sexy. It was a sales promotion girl with a hanbok, Korean national female cloth. I like Korean stuffs and this girl and the one-of-its-kind attire could be a great topic to write about. And finally I took some pictures of her and another SPG. So thanks to that SPG, I came up with a good article to post on Kompasiana. I wrote in English, in the hope that no one would leave comment. Though eventually some fellow Kompasianers dropped by and left some comforting comments. Pepih "the hillarious journalist" Nugraha in the end of the event showed on the stage. He was asking the experience of becoming a citizen journalist. Some Kompasianers were brilliant and brave enough to have interviews with prominent figures like Patrialis Akbar or succeeded to bring some excellent reports with great details. But me? Don't ask. I had no one to interview. I solely relied on observation. [caption id="attachment_208503" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Kuningan City construction site is seen at night."][/caption] The Somewhat Tragic Epilog As an epilog, I'd tell you how the rest of the day was going for me. It was tiring but fun. I rushed to go home around 4.45 pm with mbak Yayat and Babeh Helmi. But later I realized I followed the wrong exit. They were heading to parking area. I wanted to do my afternoon pray and looked for a mosque. So I had to come in and took another route to find a mosque. After praying (interrupted by an embarrassing brief blackout, which made me question, "How can this happen during an international event??!"),  I headed out to find a bajaj. With my last energy supply, I managed to reach the entrance gate and found one. The bajaj only brought me to busway station at Stasiun Beos. It brought me to Dukuh Atas busway stop only to move to another route leading to Karet Kuningan, the place where I stay and work. So it was already dark and I heard the bus was already arriving at Karet Kuningan busway stop. I stepped out of the bus carefully (as the girl in the recording advised) to find myself at a spot I was completely clueless about. "Where am I???" I frantically screamed by heart. Not wanting to panic and acting like an idiot, I pretended to stay calm and went on strolling. That said, I knew I was stranded somewhere near my boarding house but the silly thing was I didn't know where to walk. Southward? Eastward? Or where? Ok, then the divine hint came in sight. It was BTPN building with the orange letters on one of its sides. I used this as my guidance like the first fisherman in the human history used star constellations as his natural compass thousands years ago. To make sure, I asked a police officer where I should walk to find Jalan Prof. Dr. Satrio. He said I should walk straight and then turn left while mentioning the number of bus I had to take.  I kept walking and suddenly saw "JW MARRIOTT" Hotel far away. But it was on my right side, not on the left side as the policeman informed. "Another kind but misleading police officer," I murmured, rather upset. JW Marriott Hotel is located around the street so I knew I almost arrived at my boarding house. But the word "almost" doesn't mean it's near. I was on foot, on my own, with a backpack weighing more than enough to break my back. So it was like 20-30 minutes to reach the door of the house. As I walked and burned my last calories and fats left (nah, I forgot I have no fats to burn!), I discovered several new sights. Some of them are a direction board leading to a local library (which I didn't think it existed until I was lost and saw it), Kuningan City construction project, and Australian embassy at night (I was horrified to remember it was a target of terrorist attack years ago). P. S.: A million thanks to Kompasiana for the great times we were having there. Sorry, the images were taken using a cheap camera phone so the quality is far from perfection. And it looks like I wrote too much. Until next time, bye!
