In mid-2023, I made ArtArt Trip, an account to track all the art galleries and exhibitions my father and I have been to, and so far we have visited almost 200 of them. Though it seems a lot, there are still many places we haven’t explored. Indonesia’s creative industry has grown rapidly since the end of Covid restrictions. Yogyakarta and Bandung used to be the top destinations for those who are interested in this world of art and design. And who doesn’t know Bali and its beautiful culture and artistry? But now, Jakarta, Surabaya, and Semarang have also entered the field, making this industry more competitive than ever before. There is almost not a month without art exhibitions, design talks, architecture festivals, and cultural events in Indonesia. 

The word “competitive” might sound tough. But I see this phenomenon as a positive sign. Cafes and restaurants are now competing to create the best interior design and dining experience to attract more customers. Hotels and accommodations are partnering with artists and designers to add more value to their properties. Shopping malls and public spaces are building gallery-style experiences to create a unique and distinctive atmosphere. The multiplier effects are big, and so is the money circulation. Though I don’t have the actual numbers and data to back up my hypothesis yet, based on my personal observation, I believe the future is going to be more exciting.

Early this year, I read a book called Princes of the Yen by German economist Richard Werner. It’s a book about how Japan’s central bank secretly shaped the country’s economic miracle after World War II. The book was originally written in Japanese, then later an English translation was published for international readers. I already have the digital copy of the English version, but I also wanted a hard copy on my bookshelf. Sadly, it was not widely available in Indonesia. So while I was in Tokyo, I went on a search.

I went to Kinokuniya Shinjuku and headed to the international book section, no luck. I typed the title into their computer, and it appeared, but showed “Stock unavailable.” I headed to Tsutaya Books Daikanyama, still no luck. I went to BOOKOFF Akihabara, a secondhand book retail chain, but no stock there either.

Then I went to the Kanda Jimbocho area. There are a lot of small vintage bookstores around here, and I hoped they would have the book I was looking for. Unfortunately, it’s also not available. But I discovered something interesting. These vintage bookstores have a lot of foreign books, and many of them were written in German. Books about art, design, architecture, finance, economy, technology, and history. I can understand a bit of German, that’s how I know they’re German books. But why German books in a Japanese vintage bookstore? That’s when I was a little confused. But then I remembered what I read from The Princes of the Yen.

Werner wrote in his book:

“How could the [Japanese] wartime planners so quickly design such a consistent and efficient system?”

“[They] did not have to invent it from scratch, either; they took most of their ideas from European thinkers and economists, with the biggest input coming from Germany.”

Why Germany? That’s something you should find out yourself (haha). But even though I didn’t get the hard copy I was looking for, at least I learned something new. Sometimes, you don’t need to think so hard to find a solution. You just need to look back at the past.

明日おやすみ！

Yesterday afternoon, a friend of mine said that to me in Japanese. He is 6 years old and a 1st grade elementary school student in Japan. He just finished school and ran to me with excitement.

明日おやすみ!

I already know that “Ashita” (明日) means tomorrow and “Oyasumi” (おやすみ) means good night. But I was so confused. Why would he say “Tomorrow good night”? It doesn’t make any sense. Later I asked his father what his son was actually trying to say. He told me that “Oyasumi” (おやすみ) also means rest or day off. So, “明日おやすみ!” is not “Tomorrow good night!” but it means “Tomorrow I have a day off!” The boy is happy because tomorrow school is closed due to a typhoon.

When a typhoon is coming, some schools in Japan are temporarily closed for safety. I checked on Google and it said that there is a typhoon moving up in the pacific coast of Japan—which is called Typhoon Jangmi (Typhoon No. 6), bringing heavy rain and strong winds to the Kanto region.

As I wait for the rain and the wind to stop, suddenly my head filled with enlightenment. I don’t know if “enlightenment” is the right word to say, but it feels like God has given me an answer for the confusion I felt lately. Sometimes, life might feel so clear. You know what to do and you are optimistic about the future. But sometimes also, life might feel so confusing. The direction is unclear, the view is clouded and hard to see, and you feel afraid and pessimistic about the future. But actually, instead of thinking about what the future would look like, think about what you can do in the present. By focusing your energy on the present, you are preventing yourself from overthinking the uncertainty of life. Because life will always be uncertain. Just like how the boy is happy about the coming typhoon, there is always a good reason in every storm.

Recently, I bought Orico EV8 Charger, a charging dock for my AA rechargeable batteries. The one I owned was broken, so I needed to replace it with a new one. The Orico EV8 featured a more modern design compared to what I owned before — aluminum-alloy body instead of plastic, a magnetic detachable lid with LED indicator for charging status, and a USB-C charging port. But when I put my batteries into the charging dock, the batteries were not charging at all! Instead, the light indicator shows red and flashing green, which means, based on the manual included in the box, there are errors with the batteries. I was so confused. I own many rechargeable AA batteries, and all of them are still working normally. I use them for my Audio Recorder, VR controller, wireless mouse, remotes, and so much more. I also use them for my IKEA Bettorp LED portable lamp, which can also charge batteries when paired with its wireless charging base — and that lamp had no problem charging them at all. There must be something wrong with the new charger.

Turns out, there is a small detail that I missed before I bought the charging dock: it is only compatible with AA batteries made of Lithium-ion or Li-ion. The ones I own are rechargeable batteries made of Nickel-Metal Hydride or NiMH. That’s why it doesn’t charge. Later I found out, even though they look the same, but there are many types of materials used to make batteries on the market. The most common and cheapest one is Alkaline AA batteries. They are single-use batteries, can’t be recharged, and you have to discard them once they run out of power. Batteries that can be charged have a label “Rechargeable” on the branding, most of which are made of Ni-MH or Li-ion. It’s more expensive than Alkaline batteries, but cheaper in the long-term and more environmentally friendly as it last longer. Lumencraft made a dedicated video about it that I found really helpful, If you’re interested to learn more about different types of batteries. In short, not all batteries are built the same.

Knowing that my Orico EV8 charger does not support my NiMH batteries, I decided to buy another charging case, IKEA Litosfar battery charger. Though it’s not as cool as the Orico EV8, at least it can do the job: charge my NiMH batteries. I also bought some Li-ion AA batteries, so I can still use the Orico EV8 charger and see if it performs better than batteries made of NiMH.

So before you buy a battery, make sure you know what type of material they are made of. Also, make sure that the charging case is compatible with the batteries you own. Don’t make the same mistake as I am!

Every year, Muslims around the world celebrate Eid Al-Fitr to mark the end of Ramadan. During this celebration, millions of Indonesians travel to their hometowns to spend this special moment with family and loved ones. For us, that means driving 500 km to the south, from Jakarta to Yogyakarta, the city where our grandparents live. Fun fact: Did you know the distance between the two cities is roughly the same as Frankfurt to Amsterdam, London to Paris, or Tokyo to Osaka? Now you know!

There are two things that I really miss about Eid Al-Fitr. First is silaturahim, the moment of bonding and reconnecting with family. Second, and the most obvious, is the food my grandma cooks for us. The most authentic food my grandma likes to make are Ketupat and Opor Ayam. Ketupat is a rice cake packed in palm leaves. Opor Ayam is a creamy chicken stew in coconut milk. Mixing it together means perfection. The joy comes not only from eating this special meal my grandma made with all her love, but also from the togetherness that becomes more rare as we grow older and have our own separate lives. Though the internet enables us to connect from afar, there is nothing that can replace the feeling of being home.

Eid Mubarak everyone! Wishing you all joy, peace, and endless blessings.

Last December, I made a promise to myself to write and post it on my blog once a week. Fast forward to now, I struggled to fulfill that goal. I haven’t been writing much lately. Or to be exact, in the last two months. I should’ve posted eight new posts by now, yet I only wrote two.

There are a lot of things that happened lately, which made me unable to focus on writing. Somehow, I forgot how to tell a story. I forgot how to turn an idea into reality. I forgot that I can make something out of nothing.

But I realized, the limitation is not the world who provides me with endless opportunities. The limitation is within my own self, unable to imagine and take action on these opportunities. The constraints are not the world but myself.

It was 3 a.m. at the boarding school. I was still asleep when a teacher knocked on our door. It was time for us all to wake up. That early morning, we walked from our dormitory to the school cafeteria for sahoor, a very early breakfast before we start fasting.

As a Muslim, we have to pray five times a day. The first prayer is Subh or Fajr, which starts at dawn and lasts until the sun rises. That day, it was my shift to be the muadzin, the person who makes the adhan, the Islamic call to prayer. I had to do the prayer call in Arabic, even though I’m Indonesian. But it was not a problem for me, as I had already memorized it since I was a child. In fact, we also learned it in school. So after eating sahoor at the cafeteria, I went back to my room and got ready for my shift.

It was around 4 a.m. I took my sandals off and entered the masjid. Some of my friends were already inside. Some were sitting on the floor reading the Quran. Some who still felt sleepy went to the masjid anyway so they didn’t end up late for the early morning prayer.

I turned on the masjid speaker and took the microphone. As it was Ramadan, first I had to announce imsak, to remind everyone to stop eating and drinking. Then the prayer call for Subh began.

الله أكبر ، الله أكبر
الله أكبر ، الله أكبر
أشهد أن لا إله إلا الله
أشهد أن لا إله إلا الله
أشهد أن محمداً رسول الله
أشهد أن محمداً رسول الله
حي على الصلاة
حي على الصلاة
حي على الفلاح
حي على الفلاح
الصلاة خير من النوم
الصلاة خير من النوم
الله أكبر ، الله أكبر
لا إله إلا الله

God is Great! God is Great! God is Great! God is Great!
I bear witness that there is no god except the One God.
I bear witness that there is no god except the One God.
I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of God.
I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of God.
Hurry to the prayer. Hurry to the prayer.
Hurry to salvation. Hurry to salvation.
Prayer is better than sleep. Prayer is better than sleep.
God is Great! God is Great!
There is no god except the One God.

The fast for the day had officially begun. We had to stop ourselves from eating and drinking until the sun set, marked by Maghrib, the fourth prayer of the day. The fast lasts for the whole month of Ramadan, the ninth month of the Islamic calendar, ending with the festival of Eid al-Fitr. Which means, it’s time for a school holiday!

In 2019, I took a flight from Jakarta to Bangkok to attend the Asia Pacific Conference (APC) hosted by AIESEC, a global non-profit, youth-run organization that promotes cross-cultural experiences by facilitating exchange and internship programs for youth. APC is a five-day leadership development conference where newly elected members learn how to run the organization. I had been part of AIESEC since 2017, and in 2019 had just been elected as head of marketing—we call it Local Committee Vice President or LCVP—in my local chapter in Bandung, Indonesia. I wanted to meet and connect with AIESECers from other countries, learn from their best practices, and bring those insights back to my marketing team in Bandung. The leadership term in AIESEC is very short, only 12 months, so every year we run elections for the next executive board. You can run again for the next term, but I decided to serve only one term as I wanted to focus on my bachelor thesis the following year. So this was my only chance to attend.

Actually, I almost didn’t go to the conference. I felt satisfied with what I had. Most of the organizational knowledge was already accessible in AIESEC’s digital library, so why bother paying more to go abroad for something I could already access from home?

But I went anyway. I realized, even though everything was so accessible on the internet, it didn’t mean the internet had everything. There were many things you can’t get from the virtual world. The feeling of walking into the venue. The anxiety of approaching people you want to talk with. The nerves of standing and talking on stage in front of hundreds of people (yes, I did. We had an awarding night and our local committee won an award! Since I was the only one representing my LC, I had to accept it and say a few words on stage!).

Looking back on that experience, I think the reason for not wanting to go wasn’t because I felt satisfied. It was because I felt afraid. But as Robert Greene said, “Our life inevitably involves obstacles, frustrations, pain, and separations. How we come to handle such moments in our early years plays a large role in the development of our overall attitude toward life.” It was the best experience I ever had. Not only did I learn new skills and knowledge, but I also built lasting connections with young leaders from around the world.

The first book I read in English was Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking by Malcolm Gladwell. I was in my first year at university and saw this book lying on my friend’s front car seat. I grabbed it and skimmed the book for a few minutes, and got interested in reading more. A few days later, I went to the nearest bookstore and bought myself a copy. 

At first, when I found unfamiliar words, I highlighted them with my pencil, opened my phone, and searched for the definitions on the internet. As I found more unfamiliar words along the way, I decided to just keep reading and look for the definitions later or never at all. I realized that when words form a sentence, they could have a thousand meanings. Sentences form paragraphs, then sections, then chapters. That’s when I found the idea that when looking at a problem, I need to understand the bigger picture first, then look into the details, and see how everything is connected to one another. This practice changed how I see the world, and I started understanding it in a different way. 

“There can be as much value in the blink of an eye as in months of rational analysis,” Malcolm wrote. “Through experience and expertise, we can learn to instinctively sort through the barrage of details to identify those that really matter.”

Facing hard times is, indeed, always hard. Looking back on my 27 years on earth, it’s oddly hard to remember those easy, beautiful and meaningful moments of my life. Yet it is very easy to remember those moments when I felt very low. But as I grow and become mature, I learned that hard times serve an important purpose. Hard times are the trigger for greatness. Without them I would not reflect on my actions. Without them I would not reach out to friends or people I adore. Without them I would not look to books to seek answers about what and why something went wrong. Without them I would never learn to improve myself and become a better person. Without them, there would be no easy, beautiful and meaningful moments in my life.

Happy Birthday, Dandy. This is only a beginning. There are lots of exciting things yet to come!