The Gas Chamber

This is actually a class room. It so happened the uni got some funding from State Gas Company. As a token of appreciation, the room is named "Ruang Gas Negara" or literally "state gas room". Which always reminds me of gas chamber in those stories about Auschwitchz...

The Troublemakers

Alfie vs Alwyn (inflation adjusted)

Top: Alwyn, October 26, 2008 (~ 2 months old)
Bottom: Alfie, October 28, 2006 (~ 2 months old)

Alwyn 2 months old

Alfie's favorite Beatle

I just noticed. Alfie's favorite Beatle is that of Ringo Starr. That makes him another non-mainstream Beatlemania. Before in the house there is one. Me, who prefers George Harrison to the other three.

Wishing you a happy 1429th Eid Day

... from all of us.
Anna, Aco, Alfie,Alwyn

For Alfie

Alfie, I apologize that I was mad at you.

You are sleeping now. I am busy reading and sending short messages regarding the Eid Day. When you grow up, you'll understand what that is, the SMS, the Eid Day. But that's beside the point now. I just want to explain that what I did to you, slapping your wrist, was not cool. And I'm sorry. Even more so, as I am watching you sleeping so peacefully.

Once ago, I don't remember exactly when, I told myself that I would follow your grandpa's way: never punish his children physically. I guess I failed today. Yet, to make me feel better, I insisted that it was just the slap-on-the-wrist slap on the wrist. You, on the other hand, were surprised nevertheless and cried "Papa, that hurts!". I admit I was being a bad father who lost his temper. Maybe it was the nanny's absence that made me exhausted and in turn loosing my cool. Maybe it was the culmination of a series: you drew pictures on table, you almost broke a glass plate, you poured water into my laptop. All those finally led to the slap as you were yelling so loudly just an inch from your sleeping baby brother's ear.

While admittedly, these are probably your happiest days: free from the nanny and spending all time with your otherwise office-working parents. You had probably looking forward to a time like this when you could see your papa and mama every minute and second. When you could ask him or her to read any story you like. Or simply to show them how advance you were as a two year old. You, in other words, deserve to be spoiled this week. And I blew it.

I am sorry for two counts. First, for slapping your wrist (and thus ignoring those books' advice of never-slap-your-child-just-talk-to-them). Second, for not being able to tell you my regret directly in words, even though I knew you forgave me right away; as 15 minutes afterward you asked me to read you Clifford -- which in fact amplified my guilty feeling.

So here it is. While everybody is asking forgiveness one another in the eve of the Eid Day, I tender mine especially to you. You would not give a damn to this post of course. But someday you'll read it and know that once when you were two, your father was mad at you, slapped you, then regretted it.

I'm gonna sleep next to you know. So when you woke up, I'll be there telling you what I wrote here in plain words. Of course you (and your mother for that matter) will think I'm nuts. But I'll do it anyway.

Alfie's gig

 

 

Alfie: Hi, I'm Alfie. Mind if I join?
The girl: Not at all. What do you play? I'd like to sing
Alfie: I'll do piano
The girl: Alright. What do we sing?
Alfie: Yellow submarine?

Anna's three boys

or rather: two boys and one shameless older dude...

Doc Oc and Alfie

Anna texted me over to Manila. She was teaching English to Alfie.

Anna: What's this [pointing to a picture of octopus]
Alfie: Ehm... gurita! [that's Indonesian for octopus]
Anna: Yes, it is also octopus
Alfie: No, it's gurita!
Anna: OK. In English it is octopus
Alfie: But Doctor Octopus is in Papa's Spiderman comic!
Anna: ?

Picture taken from Wikipedia

Meet Alwyn

Alwyn

Dear friends,

We're delighted to inform you that Alfie now has a baby brother, Alwyn. He was born Tuesday August 26, 2008 at 0821 am in Bunda Hospital Jakarta. Birthweight is 3.7 kgs and birthlength is 50 cms. (Anna opted for waterbirth and it was cool, by the way).

The name is Alwyn Yang Patunru. Some of you would think I was inspired by the Chicago economist Alwyn Young (whose research on learning by doing I used for my undergraduate thesis). Yes, partly, maybe. But it was also because we wanted a middle name that goes in-sync with Alfie's "Shan". "Yang" (pronounced 'young') means sunny place (as in yin-yang). I was told, it can also mean "mighty".

Alfie is now with his grandma. But from what he sounds over the phone, he seems to have a mixed feeling on Alwyn's presence: a fun buddy but also a competition.

Pictures and all will be posted soon.

Ready to go...

Alfie's looking forward to his cocktail party

Salute to the country

Alfie is saluting the country's 63rd Independence Day. His second birthday is one day after.

Alfie's update

It's been awhile. So many things have developed.

Alfie now has become the most talkative person in the entire house (population size: 4). He even proudly calls himself a "burung beo" (mockingbird), because he picks up on whatever you say. Now he can sing three or four songs from Barney's (usually his memory fails him after halfway through in which case he would mumble some alien words). His favorites include London Bridge is Falling Down and Ring Around the Rosies (is that the correct title?). He has his own version of ABCD song: he goes a-b-c-d in English pronunciation then e-f-g in Indonesian pronunciation, then he deliberately spells the remaining very vaguely to avoid criticism from his parents -- he only makes it clear when it comes to m-m-m-o-p (his version of "l-m-n-o-p"). He can count from 1 to 9 even if the objects are only 3 or 4. And he memorizes TV commercials way better than his mom. For example, he recognizes Indomie Seleraku commercial just by listening to the very first two tones.

He also started to like characters other than Barney's and Tom-and-Jerry: Spiderman, Spongebob, and SBY.

(Not so) Old Man and the sea Boy

"Can't believe we're finally doing this, Pap. I mean, you've been promising me playing kite together like years ago"
"Sorry, Son. I said sorry already, right? And what do you mean 'years ago' you're not even 2 yet. Don't exaggerate. But hey, look at the bright side: here we are walking in a park with a kite. Let's hope the wind is good"
"OK, Pap, but promise me you'll take me swimming after this"
"Errgh, how about next week? Pap has to do some works in the aftern..."
"Oh, c'mon, Papa. It's weekend for god's sakes. What's with all those works? It's not like we're going broke once you skip a work or two, right?"
"Hey, who taught you that? You talk like a grown up"
"Mom"
"Ah, don't listen to your Mom"
"But she's cool, Pap. She just bought me a new pair of shoes. Look at this. Yeah, they're kind of too big, but I don't mind. I can use them longer. You call that 'economics', don't you?"
"Oh, let's not get into that. OK, I promise you we'll go swimming later"
"Thanks, Pap! That's my old man!"
"Shut up"

Lunch, shall we?

Alfie and his buddy, Nathan. Can't wait for the meals.

Update: Alfie's recovered

Thank God Alfie only stayed for three days at the hospital. But that was enough, of course. He now hates the concept of hospitals and doctors and nurses -- looks like a thing we have to work on in the next few weeks or so (because he still has some scheduled immunization plans). He showed strong resistance when we took him for a check up last Thursday.

Home is always sweet even to the 1.5 year old. The first thing he did when we arrived home last Tuesday was walking around and checking on his toys. Next we asked about Bulan -- that is his girl friend next door, about the same age. He's been improving since. Now we can say Alfie is back to normal again (by that, I mean including his resuming Barney and Tom-Jerry watching, drawing on the sofa, and tearing Papa's magazines apart). His weight has also come back to the pre-hospital level. Anna can even catch up with her delayed work -- she's now in India, allowing me and Alfie for more quality time.

We thank all of you for your sympathy and support -- you know who you are.

Thanks.

poor lil' alfie is ill and he reminds me of ... me

I was already 13 or 14 when it happened. My friends and I had just come back from camping when I started feeling something weird on the right side of my forehead. But I ignored it. Two or three days later, my temple felt itchy and it had red rashes. Then my parents took me to hospital. According to the doctor there, it was an effect of a snake poison. But I didn't recall getting bitten by snake. The doctor said it was possible that I slept on a spot where some snake had just disposed its poison -- something like that. The following days were terrible. The itch expanded to my head, neck, and back. And now it was not just itchy, it was burning and very painful. Then my right eye.I could not open it. My parents consulted many physicians as well traditional healers. But it took some time.

One night when I was asleep I somehow felt that somebody was watching me. I woke up in silence and I knew it was my father sitting right next to me, staring at me. From the angle of my left eye, I could vaguely saw him -- the room was rather dark. But I saw it: wet eyes with tears. My father was silently crying. His mouth was moving -- I knew he was praying. Deep down in my heart I felt very warm. I felt his love and care. To the maximum. He didn't even know that I was already awake.

That memory just came again. When I am the father and Alfie is the son. Now Alfie is ill and hospitalized. He is having a dengue fever. His doctor said his statistics showed improvement this morning. But he still needs to stay a couple days more. What makes it difficult is Alfie's resistance to IV infusion that runs through the vein on his left forearm. He, like myself, turns out to hate the idea of injection. But what could we do? Because of his age and especially his strong opposition toward the fluid infusion, the nurses put support board around his left arm. I tried cheer him up saying he looked like a cool robot. I failed. He still did not like that thing.

So, we keep trying distract him so he has no time to see his left arm. But whenever we fail, he immediately tries to get it off by shaking the arm or even trying banging it on the bed! Oh poor Alfie, of course he could not get rid of it. He then just cries and cries and my heart aches every time he does that.

And every time he cries I also remember my father. I now know exactly what he felt that night. I can never thank you enough, Pak. I have marks on my forehead and wear glasses because of the accident, but I'm thankful that I'm alright. But on top of that I'm thankful to have you. And Alfie.

... and compose

... and later he composes his first song about beach...