Punk Smurf pens a bilingual blog

COC Nederland pleit voor een erfrecht dat beter is afgestemd op de wensen en leefvormen van homo- en biseksuele Nederlanders.

fotografie: Ibrahim Farah

Volgens het huidige erfrecht geldt een laag belastingtarief wanneer iemand een erfenis aan haar of zijn kind nalaat, maar is er sprake van een tarief dat tot vier maal zo hoog is als je een ander als erfgenaam wilt aanwijzen. Aangezien veel homo’s en lesbiennes geen kinderen hebben, pakt dit ook voor hen negatief uit.

‘Wij vinden dat de wet geen onderscheid moet maken,’ zegt Vera Bergkamp, vice-voorzitter van COC Nederland. ‘Het is goed dat een dierbare voor een lager belastingtarief kan erven, maar of die dierbare een kind is of een goede vriend of vriendin zou niet uit mogen maken.’

De Tweede Kamer stemt op dinsdag 3 november over een voorstel van Fatma Koşer Kaya (D66) om zélf een dierbare aan te kunnen wijzen die fiscaal voordelig kan erven. Dit zou voor veel holebi’s een aanzienlijke vooruitgang betekenen.

The last week or so mainly consists of running errands. And it’s mostly mom and aunt Yani who do the running. I get a fresh batch of pills and cream that succesfully combats my eczema. I’ve been using it since my last visit to Indonesia 4 years ago, and my skin has been fairly healthy since then. I can hardly believe it’s been 4 years since I last had fish for dinner (or lunch). Aunt Yani confesses to being allergic to fish and seafood in general, too, but she doesn’t cut them out of her diet. She also tells me that I inherited my chubbiness from grandmother. Thank you - I guess.

Talking about grandmother: I end up visiting the gravesite with aunt Yani, since mom decided it would be too emotional for her. (It had already been quite a shock to see grandfather in the physical state he’s in… ) It’s during this visit that I actually notice how young grandmother was when she passed away due to cancer: 36 - leaving 7 children (my mom was 12). To this day I sometimes sense how deeply missed she is by all. I don’t know how they really feel about their stepmother…

Uncle Kris’s wife gave me some kind of massage, when she heard what had happened to my shoulder. She immediately located three blockages, located in the shoulder area and my upper arm. (The one in the latter was the size of a golf ball!) With 3 massages in 5 days with obvious progress, even the sceptic in me couldn’t deny that whatever she was doing it was working. The pain has been bearable since, and significantly less, and it shows in my movements. It still isn’t back to normal, but I feel like I’m almost there.

October went by fast. It was good to see everybody again - even though at times I craved some “me” time. When they asked if mom and I come back next year (preferably with my brother Arnold) I replied I have other plans. Some of them would like to come and visit the Netherlands, but they simply don’t have the financial means to do so. Anyhoo, like last time, saying goodbye is emotional for both mom and aunt Yani. And even though I’m saddened to go on the one hand, on the other I’m glad: I’m tired of dodging questions about boyfriends and marriage and such. And I’m sure my mom shares the sentiment.

Several hours later we’re on our way to Singapore; mom and I are prepared for another long haul. I use the short layover to get Tiger Balm patches And going from terminal 2 to terminal 3 at Changi airport mom and I are treated to a little bit of Singapore by night. It looks good. (Singapore has been on my list for a while now, and I’ll definitely be back!) Some time after midnight we are on our way to Amsterdam. Now, I’ve never been much of a sleeper in planes (I so nod off now and again, but I can’t sleep for hours on end like some people) so I watch movies instead. From what I remember these are what I’ve watched (Amsterdam - Singerpore, and vice versa): Kung Fu Panda (very funny), Fuera de Carta (aka “Chef’s Special”, a hilarious Spanish movie), Unfinished Sky (with Dutch actress Monic Hendrickx), Il y a longtemps qui je t’aime (with a French speaking Kristin Scott Thomas - a beautiful movie), Wall-E (again - the little cleaning robot is just the cutest), Ratatouille, and loads of Globe Trekker TV

When we arrive in Amsterdam it’s 6C outside; that’s a 30-degrees-difference. Talking about a warm welcome, eh.

After a short trip to Central Java mom and I went back to spending time with more (other) family members. Dang, they do seem to multiply steadily over here… Just like I anticipated, spending two or three days and nights with each member (aunts, uncles, cousins) would certainly take time. But I’m not complaining. People have been very generous (I think I gained 5 pounds just eating all my favorite foods) and different people have been taking time off work just to show me (and my mom if she felt like it) around. My cousin Deny had a great time taking me to places. He and his older brother Indra (who now works at a lab at a university nearby as a dirt analyser) took mom and me to Mt. Bromo the last time we were visiting. Yes; that is an active vulcano. Deny is a country boy, who has an adventurous streak, but that fact makes him feel awkward and out of place when wanting to try new things. He’s never had pizza (although he was curious enough) so I took him out for pizza. Well, take out actually. Same goes for KFC. (Looks like I had my share of junk food for this year ) I took him to Ba-Be, a cafe/restaurant where my cousin Yuli works, since he’s never been to a cafe. It’s nice to see him enjoy all those new experiences.

Anyhoo, I mentioned the multiplying part earlier. Some are surprised I still don’t have that one “special boy friend”, others understand that modern big city women *ahem* sometimes don’t feel the need to settle down. In the past four years there have been several additions to the family. And the majority don’t waste time taking to me. I am just as surprised as my mom, because I don’t give them special attention and I certainly don’t talk the oogely-boogely talk. But they all stick to me like bees to honey, and are seriously upset once the moment has come to say goodbye. I’m doing something wrong here - I can tell you ignoring them does NOT work.

The funny thing is that my favorite aunt and uncle (my mom’s older sister and younger brother) seem unfazed by my ink. Bear in mind that in Indonesia traditions are very important. Like, short hair on girls/women is rare. (Although, I noticed emo haircuts on boys - the happening trend right now.) Tattoos are rare, and certainly not meant for girls. There are no female soccer players (professionally) and Indonesian “rock chicks” are still a novelty. Anyhoo, my uncle showed me his ink and told me how he did that himself. My aunt revealed that the eyeliner and her eye brows are tattooed. The story on how she got it done is hilarious, but that’s perhaps something for another time. My little cousins were all curious by my ink, and frequently lifted my shirt sleeves to have a look at them

Unfortunately for me, I miss the queer film festival in Surabaya as I’m in Central Java. And two days before mom and I intent to leave for Bali for a few days, the opening of the first Asian Beach Games (held on Bali) is being aired in national TV. Not wanting to risk ending up on Bali without a (decent) hotelroom, mom and I decide not to go. We can always go another time.

Plans to buy a used car are put off; I told mom there simply wasn’t enough time to look for a decent vehicle. And how are we supposed to come up with several million Rupiahs? Talking about millions: every day I leave the house with - literally - a bulging wallet. 100 Euros (or $100 for that matter) equals about 1.6 million Indonesian Rupiahs… I have to admit that it feels weird being an overnight millionaire.

Time and cost efficiency are things that Indonesians are NOT familiar with. At least not the majority, who has never been outside the country to study or work. Don’t get me wrong: people are very friendly and accommodating, but things take time here. A lot of time. I am also very aware that a lot of things are being said out of politeness - not because it can actually be done. In fact, a lot of things are unsaid. Mom and I occassionally have arguments, but we talk about things, and I don’t respect my mother any less. Over here everything is defined by hierarchy. Indonesians have different ways of addressing others who are older and younger than oneself… It’s hard to explain, but let’s just say that it’s more than simply addressing an aunt by calling her “aunt” or calling an uncle “uncle”. Indonesians who are not familiar with other cultures think I’m rude and offensive. Whatever. My horrible accent gives me away.

My favorite aunt, Yani, calls in a favor from a friend, who drives mom and I to Cangar (hot springs). The water is said to be beneficial to people with skin problems. Needless to say I went in Talking about skin: while winters mess with mine, the heat is obviously working its wonders. The little eczema I arrived with is completely gone after a week or so in this country.

Mom and I arranged a ride to Surabaya to visit an old friend of the family. He gladly showed us the city in half a day. I forgot to ask where the French Cultural Center is, so I know later this month where to go to catch a couple of queer flicks. Oh well…

Another old friend of the family offers us a ride to Jogjakarta, so we can visit the Prambanan and Borobudur. On the day mom and I walk up to the gigantic monument mercury has risen to almost 100F. Mom and I agree she waits for me on a little stone bench under the shade of a tree, while I climb the Borobudur. She later told me I love walking from the moment I was able to do so (I skipped crawling altogether) and that I’ve walked this structure at age 6 (the first time I visited Indonesia). Looks like some things never change

I take in the beauty, and by the time I return to the spot I left my mom all my clothes stick to my body. I feel yucky, and would kill for a cool shower. There’s an older (Caucasian) lady on the other end of the stone bench, and I ask her in English why she isn’t up there. She replies she speaks little English, and hearing a French accent I repeat my question en Français. She’s pleasantly surprised I can actually speak the language (albeit a little rusty at best). When it turned out she’s not from Canada nor France but Belgium - to which I replied: “Je suis Hollandais” - we finally switched to Dutch. Heh heh… Anyhoo, the Walloon woman was suffering from the heat as well. She was visiting Indonesia with a group and showed me their itinerary: I got tired just looking at it - it was packed from early early morning till way after dinner. For almost three weeks. I can hardly call that a vacation. That’s a work out!

Hey folks!

I’ve found a regular internet cafe nearby; it’s not free, but the bandwidth is pretty normal compared to the free hotspot - no way I can view pics or video clips… And there was an outage last night. (Yes, I sat there in the dark with several other laptop users. And the only light was provided by some of the laptop screens running on battieries - like mine.)

The journey was long; mom and I traveled for 27 hours, from the moment we left my friend’s house to the moment we arrived at my grandfather’s house. My mom and my grandfather cried when they saw eachother again, and my heart broke: it’s become more obvious that my grandfather is getting old (at 84 he’s considered very old - many people in this country die in their 60s, or younger…). He appologized to me he’s been sick on and off and is now sleeping away most of his days. I tried to comfort him and tell him that there is no need in appologizing for that, and that I was glad to see him again. He really is a shadow of his former (virile) self, and I’m afraid that the next time I travel to Indonesia it will be to attend his funeral. My mom would probably repremand me for saying this, but in her heart she knows this may be very very real.

The past several days a lot of family memebers came over to visit us, asking us when we are coming them: I let mom handle that part of the visit We are now in the process of buying a used car (cheaper than renting one) which will allow mom and I to travel to Yogyakarta and Bali. And even though everybody is really nice, I cannot help but notice that even though I look the same on the outside, I am very different on the inside. While I understand the cultural differences and accept them, they have trouble grasping the fact that I am not an Asian. (Truth is I am not really a “Westerner” either, but I have less trouble fitting in.) Also, I had forgotten how important religion is to the people here: people ask which one you practice. To me that is a bit of a weird concept, because I don’t care about that. I care about people respecting eachother regardless. I even saw what appears to be a “Muslim hood”. At first I thought it was strange (since the majority of the people here are Muslim), but then I thought maybe it’s not so different from the “coloured hoods” in the US.

In Indonesia time is a different concept altogether, or so it seems. I’m glad that I decided to not let that get in the way: people take their time, and don’t seem to be in a hurry. I’m on vacation and I don’t mind the time - until October 31st (mom and I will go back to the Netherlands then).

Well, that’s it for now. More updates - with pictures - later!