Last year, I decided that I wanted to make “handle criticism better” a New Years resolution. It’s never really been such a big issue for me, but I find times where I get so bummed out and bothered for days on end. Those scenarios that somehow come at you right before sleep, you know? AtContinue reading “Criticism sucks, but it doesn’t have to… I guess”
Southeast Asia’s largest textile market, Tanah Abang, has always been a popular place to visit ahead of Eid celebrations. With Eid coming in just a few days, pictures and videos showing how swarmed the market place was on the 2nd of May went viral. Jakarta Governor Anies Baswedan confirmed that an estimated 87,000 people visitedContinue reading “Mass Crowds Gathered in Tanah Abang: A Mix of Responses”
“The difference between the Dutch and Indonesians is that they are hardworking, unlike Indonesians who are mostly lazy.” “If Indonesia wants to become a first-world country, they have to follow the footsteps of the Europeans.” Some of you might think that these remarks came from some racist, pretentious, white guy who whole-heartedly believes in theContinue reading “Decolonizing the mind: coming to terms with my internalized colonial mentality”
Only when I came back home to Jakarta a year after where I reexperienced all the cultural norms, the subtle barometer that a collective holds, and genuinely felt the pressure to be performing do I fully grasp the totality of it. So, this is my best attempt of understanding Baudrillard’s theory through the ‘object’ and lifestyle that I am most exposed to Upperclass Chindo Lifestyle.
“Remember. Your husband will respect you only if you’re a virgin” said my dad, minutes before my flight attendant calls out passengers to my then-scheduled flight to Osaka, Japan.
Following the protests of the Black Lives Matter movement, statues of figures with a controversial past have been defaced and/or toppled. Ultimately, this brings in radical change and making far more than a statement from the voices of those who have been so used to being silenced.
The first time I remember hating the colour of my skin I was 9. I remember being called out as dark-skinned – ‘hitam’ as it’s said in Indonesian – by my fellow students.