Living in a remote village near Mangunan with this Brady Bunch family, means that I am not only living around them, but I am actually living in them!
Just in a couple days after my orientation, I was inundated by too much personal information. About the family. About a life of all workers. Their spouses. Girlfriends/boyfriends. Children (legitimate and not). In laws. Neighbor’s sister’s uncle’s in law whose cat just disappeared. Divorce. Breakups. Engagement. Affairs. Who got pregnant first before a legal marriage. How domestic violence took place. Too much condoms often found in a teak wood forest near the house.
Jebus LAWRD!
Definitely too much information flowing into my sane mind, just in couple of days.
They look like to be naturally open with their own personal life and others too. Or do they think that those drama are just random things in rural life? No need to be ashamed of….I think that reality cheesy TV show should make epic episodes about pastoral drama. Bet they will make big bucks out of it!!
And those pastoral drama are lively told at this dining room. In the morning, late afternoon, followed by new (intense and anti climax) episode in the evening.
On this dining table, I randomly masticate anything that looks good. And most of them are REALLY GOOD, fresh from the farm to the table! With generous bonus of fresh juicy gossip..
Somehow, I start to wonder..
After I heard so many stories of their pastoral drama, I deliberately question myself :
Why do those lovely, sincere, and generous people have to suffer such shits in their life?
How come fucktards screwed up and left them without saying anything? Left without responsibility. Or perhaps those fucktards don’t know the real meaning of responsibility?
The other day, I have secretly overheard a phone convo when I was about taking a shower.
Could barely understand it because it was all in Javanese language.
But it broke my heart completely when I heard later on, this lovely lady, whom I see her everyday, cried like a baby during the convo. She sound so very devastated. Perhaps her fucktard ex-husband said something bad to her? He left without saying goodbye. Left her with two small children. The eldest son now doesn’t want to go to public school anymore, because of school bullying. The youngest grows as a very shy girl whom rarely opens her mouth, except for eating.
I realize that the pastoral drama in this village has made my personal emotional entanglement experiences look like a Disney Channel and those fucktards that I have randomly encountered were merely like a Mojo Jojo – the monkey villain in Power Puff Girls cartoon!
Fucktards in my life look like this, more or less!
Somehow, I manage to grasp the contextual meaning of this pastoral life.
Shits happen to anyone.
And when I bring my naive thinking of a simple and linear bucolic life, I definitely need to calibrate it once I arrived here.
It is highly impossible to develop a sustainable village with happy ever after purpose without tracing, fixing, and re-setting their social casualties, which most of it root in self confidence and self reliance.
Those lovely villagers have been so severely emotionally manipulated. Structurally deceived by vague modernism concept.
So, when I finally decided to settle in, create inspiring economic development, and implement utopian way of life in the name of empowerment and social justice, first I have to slowly cater those villagers’ need of self confidence and self reliance. To make them realize that they are worth more than they could imagine of…To boost their personal appreciation of what kind of gold that they have around and they should make use of it independently with full responsibility to the nature.
Then, after that we could talk about making a reality TV show of pastoral drama!
Bucolic Gourmand 