Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,



What do you think of people who don’t vote?



Undecided voter

Dear Undecided voter,

They deserve the rotten, corrupt, incompetent, uncaring and lawless government other people foist onto them.

Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,



I’m new in the country and learning the ropes on its language. What’s the best way for a ‘bule’ to learn Bahasa Indonesia? And I’m only using “bule” for convenience, if it matters.



Bule Baru

Dear Bule Baru,

Some expats take offense at the word “bule” – “albino/whitey” and some don’t. Personally, I don’t. Unless I get the impression that the person addressing me is trying to be impertinent and superior and wishes to insult me in a smug, hectoring way.   

Then I reply in kind; sweetly and smilingly calling him or her chink/slope/wog/swarthie/dusky/brownie/blackie/darkie/little third-world person or simply, “Hey! You there! Indonesian!” 

That normally evens the score a little. However, I don’t suggest you use this sort of familiar slang in a police station, at the airport, in dealing with any Indonesian official or in a law court, because in those situations you just have to put up with the fact that there’s is a possibility that an attempt will be made to put you down and keep you at a disadvantage. The rudest, surliest, uppity people only get positions out at the airport, apart from the delightful and helpful ticket and baggage check in darlings. 

But apart from them, an expat in need is an opportunity too good to pass up. And humiliating them is a national sport. Likewise in an Indonesian court of law. It seems to make their day if they can treat a Westerner in particular with anything less than the usual miserable justice meted out to the downtrodden locals. 

I think there is a “Course in Indonesian Law Schools – Nurturing The National Inferiority Complex: How to Take Revenge on Westerners by Being Overly Harsh With Them When You Have Them at Your Mercy.”

Always stay on the good side, if there is one, of Indonesian law because if you fall out of favor they will go for your jugular. We are all colonial Dutch and Japanese invaders in the eyes of most judges. Even if you come from Lower Oddington in the Cotswolds. Or Madrid.

As for learning the language?

The best way to learn the language is to try and speak it. You’ll need some books and you may need to attend a basic course, but the most important thing is to find a local friend who is willing to help you. 

This may prove a little difficult because my experience is that many Indonesians don’t understand that there is nothing wrong with making mistakes. Hence if you mispronounce something or use the wrong word, you don’t want someone ridiculing you or pointing out your mistake in a nasty way. Or worse, laughing at you. 

If you ask someone to help you as a language buddy, I suggest you point this out to them at the beginning. Learning involves making mistakes, and there is nothing wrong with that.   

Otherwise, as I did, you will get frustrated and give up asking for help, because all you get is contemptuous ridicule. Even in some of the language schools.

Remember, this is the land of “Face must be saved at all costs,” where mistakes are seen as a weakness rather than an opportunity for further growth and development.

As well, a lot of contemporary Indonesian has been reduced to slang. Be careful. Otherwise you will end up saying what would be the equivalent to Her Majesty the Queen, “Hi babe, how are they hanging?”
 
I suggest you equip yourself with a vocabulary of 200 basic words and an armory of important and helpful everyday phrases and sentences. 

To begin with I suggest:

Thank you. Good morning. Good afternoon. Good evening. Good night. Goodbye. 

How are you? What is your name Sir/Madam? (use these titles and any title a lot).

My name is…… and I come from……  I am very pleased to meet you. And where do you come from? 

Please come in. Please sit down. What would you like to eat? What would you like to drink?

Congratulations. 

How much does this cost, please Sir/Madam/Miss/Young man?

May I please have a taxi/the bill/the fried rice/a double scotch/your phone number?

My, what’s that strange smell coming from the canal?

Holy Moly did you see what I just saw?

Wadda ya mean it’s not ready? You gave me your word it would be fixed by today and already it’s three months late!

No! I am not giving you a bribe, Mr. Policeman! 

Sweet of you to suggest it but I am happy here drinking my Bintang and I don’t want to go upstairs to the karaoke lounge and meet your sister-in-law.

Hello, I’m just phoning to say I am stuck in traffic and will possibly get to your office across town sometime next week.

Where’s the toilet paper? My left hand? Ya gotta be kidding! 

I think I need another drink.

I know this bus is terribly crowded but do you have to brush your eyelashes against my face, blow in my ear, whisper “I love you” and would you mind giving back my wallet? 

You mother is giving me that look that says, “Hel-lo future son/daughter-in-law.” Your older brother is giving me that look that says, “Hel-lo future business partner and unlimited fund of money.” Your younger brother just fluttered his eyes at me and giggled. By the way, I am not rich. Did I say something wrong? Where has everyone gone? 

Of course, to avoid any embarrassment, the best thing to say in any situation is, “Maaf Pak/Ibu, saya tidak bisa bicara bahasa Indonesia.  Saya bule gila.” With a big smile of course. I find it never fails to bring the house down and win me lots of sympathetic and helpful friends. 

Good luck!

Aunty Mavis

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,



At the traffic lights I am happy to part with a little loose change, but I really object to being disturbed while I am eating. On the other hand I realize that guitar men and transvestites have not been blessed with a fortunate life like us readers of your newspaper.

So my normal response of telling them to piss off is probably not appropriate. How should I handle these interruptions more elegantly?



Outdoor Eater

Dear Outdoor Eater,

Presumably you mean when you are eating at a food stall and a guitar man or a transvestite dancer comes by and performs in front of you hoping for a donation rather than you are eating in your car at a traffic light. One should never eat in a motor car. It’s vulgar.

Drinking is permissible: cocoa from a thermos flask or champagne from the in-car wine cooler, but never food. Eating in a motor car is on the same low level of vulgarity as using a mobile phone or any electronic gadget in a restaurant. Or in the chamber of the House of Representatives. 

Eating is a serious business and requires an attentive mind and attitude. Like you, I do not care to be disturbed while dining, just as I don’t like to be disturbed when I am listening to Opera, making love or painting my toe nails. However, the laws of hospitality overrule personal comfort and convenience, especially when it is possible that an unexpected guest, even an unwelcome guest, may be a heaven sent opportunity to entertain an angel unaware.
 
If I may be brutally frank, you sound like you would like to be a charitable person. But know at present you are not because you recognize you have a grudging spirit and think you are superior to these people. I guess it depends what you consider to be the criteria for “a fortunate life” as compared to others. Surely not the amount one has in the bank? Why many of the rich people in this country are very ‘poor’ specimens of humanity indeed.

Besides you seem to give with a grudging spirit – a “small change” mentality. So long as it doesn’t really cost you anything or dig deep into your pockets.

I suggest you keep your money – small change and all – until you have found the freedom to be really generous – for generosity’s sake – and not in any way to make you feel good about yourself.
 
Perhaps it is opportune to recall – while the President is in England – an English story. Some years ago, that darling saint Mother Teresa was in London and asked a British politician who managed charitable funds if he would give her $2 million so she could build a refuge for drug addicts and prostitutes who wanted to change their lives.

The politician made all sorts of excuses why he didn’t want to give her the money but finally gave in and grudgingly said, “Oh, alright. I’ll let you have what you want.”

A week later Mother Teresa got the cheque. Then she said to one of her nuns, “Send it back to him. We won’t accept this money. It was not given with love.” And they sent it back.

A few days later someone she didn’t know, completely unconnected with the British government, who knew nothing of her plans sent her $2 million.

The moral of the story? Good things are achieved only with love.

I don’t want to be too harsh on you because I feel your heart is in the right place – it’s just not pure and sensitive enough yet. And we are all like that. But your heart is telling you it wants to be pure and loving. Perhaps that will happen when you realize, that despite whatever we have in the bank or whatever car we drive or where we live or what we own, we are all beggars.

Because everything in life is a gift. Everything we have is ultimately given to us. Why, even our own lives are a gift. Only a fool – and there are a lot of them around in this country – believes he or she has what they own because they have earned it or stolen it, as is often the case here. It is only when we recognize that whatever we have it is a gift that we can then sincerely and generously share what we have with others.

You and I can’t change poverty in Indonesia. But we can be instruments of change by changing our attitudes. And the first thing many of us have to change is the attitude that mistakenly allows us to think for even a second that we are superior – to anyone.

Next time a beggar comes to you when you are eating – instead of saying “piss off,” why not say, “Brother/Sister, would you like to sit beside me and share my meal?” 

If you wish your response to be elegant you need to realize that a request for help is not an “interruption” but an opportunity for you to become more yourself. And we become fully human the more we reach out to others.

Yes I know there are a lot of fraud beggars out there and that sometimes it is a rip off. But how many times a day or a week are you seriously asked for help? Probably not enough to lump all these unfortunate people into the same category. 

Any opportunity any of us has for treating another human being with compassion and respect is to be valued. Even if all we have to give is a kind word said respectfully.

I think you are a good person, otherwise you wouldn’t have worried about this matter.

I hope you become a great person. You’ll need beggars to help you become so. You see, they are a gift to us. They are the ones who enrich us in the deepest sense. 

Aunty Mavis

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

Should the ‘tradition’ of hand kissing be preserved in Indonesian culture? I heard news the other day we school children have to kiss our teachers’ hands before entering and leaving classrooms. The hygiene! Look, some people here still eat with their hands. And the germs!

School Child

Dear School Child,

I think the more kissing that goes on in any culture the better. So long as it is a sign of love, affection and respect. And fun!

As for catching germs? Well Dear, if you really knew how many creepy crawly germs were picnicking on the surface of our bodies you would probably die of fright. Thankfully Dame Nature has things under control, and for all the millions of germs we breathe in or swallow each day, she has an antidote to neutralize their nastiness. So don’t worry on that score.

As for your teachers requiring you to kiss their hands as a sign of respect?

Well, I am all for respect – and students should be taught to show it. But ‘respect’ here in Indonesia is often too much one way. Respect should always be mutual. Reciprocal. Two-way.

Once I attended a high school graduation. At the end of very noisy proceedings where neither teachers or students showed much respect for what was going on – talking, laughing, moving around the auditorium while speeches were given and concert items performed. The finale of the event proved enlightening – and very saddening for me.

Towards the end of the event, the graduating students came onto the stage where all the teachers were lined up. One by one the students passed down the line of teachers and kissed their hands – or touched their hands to their foreheads. Apparently, the students were thanking their teachers for the education they had received from them. A very nice custom indeed.

And the teachers? To my dismay, I watched as most of them totally ignored the students, seldom looked at them, but held their hands out, completely indifferent to the young people bowing before them and all the while these smug adults, these ‘teachers/role models/examples of good manners and respect’ chatted and gossiped with their colleagues on either side of them. They showed no respect to their pupil. They simply ignored them.

It was the most vulgar, disrespectful display of arrogance I have encountered in my life. They had their hands out to be kissed as if it was their right. As if they were very superior people. Clearly these teachers needed to be taught the meaning of the word ‘respect.’

School Child, Indonesia has a culture supposedly based on respect, but sadly the externals are often more important than the interior attitude and intention. 

Please show this response to your teachers and your fellow students. By all means let your teachers encourage you to observe a traditional cultural form of showing respect – such as hand kissing – but also insist that your teachers address each of their students by their names when they are greeted each morning and as they leave each afternoon. Any teacher who is not willing to reciprocate appropriately by showing kindness and respect to their students needs to learn a few lessons about themselves.

Aunty Mavis.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

How do you balance your media diet? What news do you consume daily?

Media Dude

Dear Media Dude,

It’s not a question of what newspapers or media forms one consults. It’s how one interprets them that is important. As I seldom watch television – virtually not at all these days – and then only to keep my disgust fresh, most of my information comes from one newspaper and some journals.

My regular media diet is directed towards broadening my mind and making me thankful that I am a woman of discerning views and of a phlegmatic disposition. The ten basic sources of information I consult regularly, if not daily, are:

The Bartender’s Guide to Mixing Drinks

Fox and Hounds: The Weekly Round Up of Blood Sports

Memento Mori: Journal of the International Guild of Embalmers

Libido: Enjoying Sex From 18 to 108 

Healthy Cooking on a Budget With Dry Champagne, Cream, Eggs, Butter, Calvados, Foie Gras and Truffles

ABC of Political Incorrectness: A Polite Guide for Telling Governments and Assorted Busy Bodies to Shove off and Not Interfere in People’s Lives

St. Augustine’s: The City of God

Fowler’s English Usage

Maintaining Your Mental Health: A Guide to Tourist Resorts Anywhere But Bali

and finally,
The Jakarta Globe

Constant application to the wisdom found in these gifts to the human race have helped me get by in life, hopefully doing a little good along the way – certainly not wishing to do harm. And in the process, I have come to understand a little of what it is that drives people to waste their lives seeking after vanities and the desire to impress.
 
As that darling man Confucius said, “It’s important to restore to words their correct meaning,” I have found that in all the books above. Seldom in any of the world’s leading newspapers today.

I guess sometimes you simply have to read between the lines to get to the truth of the matter or figure out what our self-appointed leaders are actually saying.
 
One thing is for certain, if you find yourself reading, say for instance, The New York Times, and find yourself agreeing with most of what you read there – it’s time for you to stand back and get a grip on reality. Don’t you know that the only certain thing the media reveal is that everyone in authority are consistently lying to us – and that they know it, and we know it and there is nothing we can do about it?

So, pour yourself a drink and settle down with my list of ten. And then see how different life looks.

Aunty Mavis

While comments about readers problems can be posted on line and are welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com 


Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,


It feels good to read your blog again! I want to ask your advice about my younger brother.
 
He’s in his early 20s and it’s hard to give advices to him. I don’t know what’s the right way to help him understand. He told me times I shouldn’t be self-righteous just because I’m older than him by 2 years, which makes me wonder if I’m indeed self-righteous and he is too.

My mother can’t take control of him either. He is hardly at home to spend time with my mother and I. He is often home late at night and wakes up so late in the day. He doesn’t want to pursue higher education after high school and is jobless these days. He worked in car audio workshop after graduated from high school.

I tried to talk to him in private, but it often ends with anger and frustration because he is really good in arguments whether it’s right or wrong. How should we talk to him?



Thank you
,


Anonymous

Dear Anonymous,

Your younger brother doesn’t need advice. He certainly doesn’t need an older brother lecturing him. He needs someone who can recognize the hole he has fallen into and can help him get out of it. That is, presuming he wants to get out of it.

Apart from his behavior and habits you describe — staying out late, sleeping in to all hours, being belligerent and surly towards his mother and you (understandable if you are scolding him), not settling to work or study – it would be also worth noting if he is also careless about his appearance, neglectful of person hygiene, whether his breath smells unusually unpleasant and his appetite has diminished. Also, if money or anything goes missing from the house.

If these things are also happening, sadly there is every possibility your brother is caught up in drugs.

Whether he is or isn’t, your concern for him is touching. But I also hope it is selfless – not selfish. In other words, your concern is for your brother’s welfare not your own feelings of pride and comfort and family honor.

Sometime ago, I knew a woman who had a problematic daughter. The girl was on drugs and she moved out of home and into an abusive relationship with a dreadful man. The girl’s mother would telephone her and lecture her and tell her how she was ruining her life and hurting her family. The girl would hang up. The mother got angrier and angrier and more and more worried. And the girl remained distant from the family.

Then one day the girl telephoned her mother, and the mother had the common sense not to lecture her and not to tell the girl how she was upsetting everyone and how her life was being ruined. Instead, the mother was kind and only spoke words of love, not harsh words of condemnation or judgement.

A few days later the girl left the abusive relationship and came home. And she gave up drugs.

Her mother asked her what it was that made her change.

The girl said, “I didn’t change, Mom. You did. You used to phone me and lecture me and make me feel even worse than I was. You were so angry and harsh and I was frightened of you. That made it impossible for me to return home because you made me feel unwelcome because your lectures always made me feel bad. But the last time I phoned, you were different. You were kind and loving and non-judgmental and I felt that you loved me. You were the one who changed, Mom. Not me. And because you changed, I was able to come home.”

Anonymous, if you and your mother want your dear brother to ‘come home,’  then ‘love’ him home. Scolding and lecturing him will only keep him away. Even if it takes the form of ‘brotherly advice.’ Please change the way you are approaching him.

This will take patience, generosity and no thought for your own feelings. You can begin by telling your brother how much you love him and miss his company. As I am sure you do. Your concern for him is obvious. It’s a question of expressing the concern in the most effective and appropriate way. And I am sure you have the love and wisdom to do that.

Talk with your mom about this, too. You both need to have the same approach. I wish you all the best.

Aunty Mavis

While comments about readers problems can be posted on line and are
welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions
concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis
at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com 



Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,



I have missed your insightful wisdom in recent weeks. I hope you can offer some suggestions how to be less dependent on the phone.


I have a wonderful wife and a beautiful girlfriend. However, I fear I will soon have neither, because every time I am with them I play on my phone instead of giving them the attention they deserve.


I know full well it is not right to use the phone to read the news, chat, check emails etc. while in the company of others, but I don’t seem to be able to stop myself.
 


Thanks for your advice,



Cantput Itdown

Dear Cantput Itdown,

You and all of the Globe’s readers have not heard from me these past weeks because no one has written in with any questions. That is either a good thing – indicating that everything is fine in the Great Durian – or it is a bad thing – indicating that people out there, like you, are too engrossed in their mobile phones to recognize that they have serious problems which they are avoiding. I suspect the latter is the case.

As to your dilemma, it is unclear to me whether your wife and girlfriend are with you at the same time when you are engrossed with your instrument or whether you see them separately. The former I hope which would indicate to me that you have a sense of style and class. Only a bore and a cad keeps his mistress and his wife in separate compartments.

I hope they get on well together and have lots to talk about because clearly when you are around there is not much intellectual or romantic stimuli – note the plural of that word, after all you are dealing with two women – since when you are with them, either collectively or individually, you ignore them.

I suggest your problem is not your addiction to your mobile phone. That is merely a symptom of a deeper malaise. Your problem is that you do not love either of these women. Now why do I say that?

Because dear, you know you are in love with someone when you want to be in their company.

While you are physically with them – emotionally, romantically, spiritually – you are off somewhere else in your own little world, relating to who knows what. Your body may well be keeping company with them, but to all extents and purposes, your real self is elsewhere. That’s the information I suggest you check out.

Of course, if you are so facile that you only live for your phone and find the stimulation, it gives you more satisfying than either or both your wife and/or girlfriend, perhaps you might consider settling down with it. You can snuggle up to it in bed. You’ll  find it a little lumpy, but at least it rings.

However, there are always two sides to a penny. So cherub, without being too hard on you, there is a possibility that both your wife and your girlfriend are the most boring people in the world and they have driven you to this extreme of social isolation. It’s possible. There are a lot of dumb broads out there in Jakarta. Bling! Bling! Bling! And I would have the greatest sympathy for you if this is the case. 

Recently I had someone to lunch – well, actually to a bucket of Gin – the food was just a tag on at the end. And I found her conversation so boring my feet fell asleep. I tried to keep an interesting look on my face throughout the ordeal but caught a glance of myself in the mirror, repeatedly, and realized I was looking like a cross between Queen Victoria and a monkey in labor. I didn’t know whether to take a machine gun to her or hand out the happy pills. No wonder her husband has a string of mistresses. All she has are the palm oil plantations.

Perhaps your dilemma is founded on a combination of both. That is, you have hitched yourself up to a wife and a girlfriend who are both boring and for whom you have no deep and abiding love. Neither of them are your best friend. So you have chummed up with your little hand set.
 
My suggestion is you turn off from all three – wife, girlfriend and mobile phone – for a week and see what the reaction is. Especially yours. If this suggestion horrifies you, then clearly your mobile phone is not the only toy in your life you like to play with. 

Thank you for your letter. It has reminded me that when I am elected Empress of Indonesia I am going to put a tax on people who use mobile phones in restaurants and other public places inappropriately. And a tax on men and woman who have bits of fluff on the side. Given the predominance of both these national habits, I will be a very rich Empress.

Aunty Mavis

While comments about readers problems can be posted on line and are
welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions
concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis
at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com 



Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

How should we react while our leader is criticizing us about our bad performance? Also, how should we advise people properly so they could change their bad habits without pissing them off? No one likes to be criticized, do they?

PS: I await your blog every week.

Much love,

Marvin.

Dear Marvin,

I am not sure how to respond to the three questions you ask because it is unclear to me who you are referring to when you use the words ‘our leader’ and ‘us’. Does ‘our leader’ refer to the president of Indonesia, to your boss, your teacher, your father or your wife? And does ‘us’ refer to you and the people of Indonesia, you and your fellow workers at the place of your employment, you and your fellow students, you and your brothers and sisters or you and your children? Because of my confusion, let me take the liberty of replying to the first four of those levels and then separately if your three questions refer to your wife.

    •    How should we react when our leader is criticizing us for our poor performance?

Remind him that a fish rots from its head down. If the country/office/school/family is behaving badly it’s because the leadership is behaving badly by not inspiring the rest with a good vision to aim for.

    •    How do we advise people to change their bad habits without pissing them off?

To get the people of Indonesia to change their ‘bad habits,’ which are:

    •    trusting their leaders, whether it be the politicians, the police, the military, big business and the media – who are all lying to them
    •    thinking that malls and BlackBerries are a sign of economic and cultural progress
    •    pretending to be spiritual when all along they are simply materialistic because they think wealth makes a person important
    •    not reading decent books
    •    being lazy and not doing an honest day’s work/study for an honest day’s pay or what’s expected of them as university students
    •    foolishly thinking that some people are better than others because of something that simply does not exist – ‘the class system’
    •    spoon feeding children beyond the age of 18 months
    •    and squabbling with Malaysians over things that are not important

Indonesians have to 1) demand better government and accountability and see that the law enforces it by 2) an equal distribution of wealth and just wages 3) based on a humane understanding of what life is really about – namely it’s about making human life more human which won’t happen here until 4) kids are given the chance of a proper education free of all the nonsense that surrounds it at present, which is only 5) creating a false sense of achievement where high school certificates, university degrees and professional qualifications are worthless because they were either obtained by cheating or a bribe because 6) too many people here unbelievably believe that success, even when it is clearly based on false figures like the laughable National Examination results – means maintaining ‘face/respect/making an impression/titles’ which are wrongly thought to be more important than substance and honesty, because 7) from an early age some Indonesians get everything they scream for without making an effort to do it honestly for themselves by engaging in a bit of hard work – and so they continue through life expecting others to do everything for them and this will ultimately bring about social chaos because 8) instead of accepting reality, namely that the country has troubles of it’s own making, Indonesians like to blame other people for their own problems.

    •    Criticism – national or personal can be constructive or damaging.  

The most damaging way of dealing with criticism in Indonesia is doing it ‘the Javanese way.’  That is, letting someone tell you “Just leave it to me/us. We will look after things for you because we have your best interests at heart.”

You see this occurs nearly everyday in this newspaper when someone in authority responds to a scandal, a crime, a call for action, a criticism. They fob you off and play the culture card. I guess if you want to be treated like children all your life you will let these patronizing and dishonest people continue to treat you like a mushroom – that is, keep you in the dark and feed you on manure.

The way to deal with criticism is to recognize honestly the problem. Here those in charge seek only to deflect criticism and protect themselves and their party/business/wealth. That’s why so often solutions are reactive rather than responsive. The politicians especially make the greatest political mistake of history: they value their party more than they value the country. That is why most of them are doomed to ultimate oblivion and will fall out of the history books because they are not politically astute to recognize that power resides with the people. And when the people get fed up with you they will toss you out.
 
Now Dear, you can apply these three responses to the President, your boss, your teacher and your father.

However, if they concern your wife I would take a different approach.

    •    If she is constantly criticizing and harping at you, start calling her Mom. 
    •    Stay on the couch watching the television, eating and drinking, and tell her you are not moving until she grows up and acts like a wife, mother, lover – instead of a crabby old witch.
    •    Next time she starts to criticize you, hold a mirror up to her face so she sees her own reflection and realize that she is talking about herself.

It’s kind of you to say you look forward to this blog. Very kind indeed.  It hasn’t appeared for a few weeks because I haven’t received any questions. That either indicates that the entire nation is humming along nicely without my help and there are no problems upsetting anyone for me to offer advice, for which I am pleased and encouraged, or perhaps points (a) (b) and (c) here dealt with are of little interest to anyone apart from you.

Perhaps our readers can think on these things next time they are wandering around one of the malls, fidgeting with an ipad and wondering, as the movie title goes: “Is This as Good as It Gets”?

PS:  How sweet of you to send me your love, Dear Marvin. Bless you.

Aunty Mavis.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

Are you a cat person? Your glasses tell me you’re a lonely, old cat lady.

Katy.

Dear Katy,

I don’t like cats. Cats are fair-weather friends. They are only interested in themselves and their own comforts. A cat snuggles up to you when it wants some affection and attention. Otherwise, it leaves you alone because it isn’t the slightest bit interested in you or your welfare. A cat doesn’t love its owner. It hangs around you only when it wants something. Unlike a dog which is always faithful.

Some people are like cats. Fair-weather friends. They pretend to be friendly, faithful, affectionate; but they only do these things when they want something out of you or are in need of some emotional response from you. Then, when they have got what they want out of you, off they go to follow their own pursuits. Just like cats.

I don’t like cats at all as much as I don’t like that type of cat-person. I prefer the ever faithful dog and person who loves you unconditionally. A faithful dog, like a faithful friend, remains by your side or waits until you return and offers non-judgmental love.

As for your decision that I am a lonely old cat lady, we are all lonely, Katy. Even those who have a full social life and whose lives are full of an endless source of divertissement. The thing is to know when one is celebrating life or being desperate. We are all lonely, and it’s humane and healthy to be so without being morbid about it. We are lonely because this wonderful world is not the full story. There is something else. The thing is, to turn loneliness into solitude that is to be happy with who you are and not to go stark raving bonkers if you have to spend more than 5 minutes alone with yourself in complete silence without feeling the need to reach for an iPad, the mobile phone, television remote control, a bottle of something, a funny ciggie, a syringe, or a part of someone else’s or your own body.

I presume the newspaper got the spelling of your name correct. And it’s not Catty.

Aunty Mavis.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

I am so happy that we finally have a Ferrari taxi! No country will look down on us anymore. Now, can I say that Indonesia is ranked alongside the US and other developed countries?

Proud Indonesian.

Dear Proud Indonesian,

Your sense of national pride comes pretty cheap and gullible it seems. Do you always fall so easily for advertising tricks? Now, what were you saying about people looking down on you?

Aunty Mavis.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

Guide me about listening to classical music. You seem to possess a vast knowledge of it. Tell me where I should start?


Beginner

Dear Beginner,

One should always start at the beginning, pet. 

I have a broad interpretation of the term ‘classical’ music and apply it to anything that is not tuneless, loud noise. So let me list for you my ten favorite Desert Island discs, in other words, ten pieces of music I could happily listen to stranded all alone on a desert island which would give me comfort, hope and a feeling that life is beautiful. 

So, to begin at the beginning:
    •    Mass in B Minor by Johann Sebastian Bach
    •    Symphony No. 9 in D minor “Choral” by Ludwig Van Beethoven
    •    Symphony No. 41 in C major “Jupiter” by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
    •    St. Matthew’s Passion by Johann Sebastian Bach
    •    Piano Concerto in D minor by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
    •    Messiah by George Frideric Handel
    •    Symphony No. 6 in B minor “Pathetique” by Peter Illich Tchaikovsky
    •    Don Giovanni by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
    •    Symphony in E minor “From The New World” by Antonin Dvorak
    •    La Boheme by Giacomo Puccini

Now, of course everyone is going to have their own opinions and most of them more informed than mine. And I am sure many of our readers will dispute this list, but then again, you asked me my opinion where to begin getting to know classical music, so I have given the list of music I would like to listen to if I had to restrict it to ten. And I think as an introduction to this fabulous world of beautiful music, none of this will make you run for the ear plugs. Besides, I’m just a simple girl who’s a sucker for a good tune. And I learnt to appreciate and enjoy this beautiful stuff because, as a little girl, my mother had the wireless on while she did the housework – and it just sunk in.

Incidentally, I also like other music. I often hum The Teddy Bears Picnic as I am pouring the first gin and tonic of the day and I have been known to get down and dirty at the weekly meeting of the Friends of Malaysia with my impersonation of Ethel Merman singing ‘Heatwave.’ After a few iced teas or something stronger, my Indonesian lady friends usually loosen up and join in. Music has that effect on people and can create a sense of universal love and common humanity. Even with Malaysians, some of my Indonesian friends have surprisingly discovered. And why not?
 
Enjoy the exploration. And discover your own favorites. It’s a world you will soon be unable to live without.

Aunty Mavis

While comments about readers problems can be posted on line and are
welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions
concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis
at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com 



The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,



I will be visiting Jakarta in few weeks. I only have few days before continuing my trip to the rest of SEA nations. Where would you recommend me to go around the Big Durian?
 


Lonesome Traveler

Dear Lonesome Traveler,

On arrival I recommend you go straight to the departure terminal and take the next flight out of Jakarta. There is nothing here for tourists.

However, if you persist in having a miserable holiday and have an addiction to being caught in traffic chaos or are enslaved to wandering malls then let me suggest some alternatives.

Next Monday is the annual meeting of the Depok Ladies Bell Ringing Association – which will take place at Jimmy Ardrianto’s Noodle Bar and Ballroom Dancing Academy. You will know doubt be rapt by their rendition of that old favorite, ‘I Got Plenty Of Nothing.’ A song a lot can identify with in Jakarta.

Then on Tuesday there is Rat Throttling and Disco A Go Go at Ye Olde London Karaoke Bar – for members only but I can get you a ticket. Do you have hot pants? They like to dress up.

Later that evening, after things heat up, there is a Wait For A Bus In The Rain marathon – recommended only for those with strong legs and nothing to do for twelve hours. 

Then of course, you are always welcome to join me and my friends at The Beating of the Duck ceremony which commemorates the Fall of Peking when hundreds gave their lives to keep China British. Or come with me to the Dutch Institute where Hans Clog will be giving a short address – 57 Jalan Budi. Ask for Collette.   

That should keep you going .

Avoid the tap water – unless you have whiskey to dilute it.

Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,
 


What are your favorite TV shows? Or would you rather sit at home listening to classical music and mulling over life’s unanswered questions?

Lame Existentialist

Dear Lame Existentialist,

I seldom watch television as I am too busy enjoying my life and that of my friends. A few times across the years I have surfed the channels here in Jakarta but as I didn’t particularly enjoy the 1970’s – I never cared much for flares or men with bobbed hair and Mexican mustaches – I have found little to entertain me on Indonesian television. 

I often wonder why there is no comedy or satire on Indonesian TV. No dramas about the police, the army or politics. No hospital shows – just blab, blab, blab stuff and people showing off making childish jokes. I don’t like slapstick – unless it’s Charlie Chaplain, Laurel and Hardy, Abbot and Costello or the Three Stooges.

Or Indonesian politicians caught with their hand in the cookie jar making excuses and denying it all. Now that’s very funny.

However occasionally I tune in to pay-TV and watch old episodes of Leave it to Beaver just so I can detest his mother. And I always enjoy Jimmy Edwards in Whacko or Bottoms Up – Chiselbury School would have been the ideal place to send a few of my (actually my husband’s) sons – who at various stages of advanced adolescence needed thumpin’ and hittin’ and I doubt even then they would have been any good. Still, they have moved on and now they are in quite respectable professions. One is a transvestite and the other a Trappist monk – both wear frocks, both sing – but only one wears makeup. Like all my children, I adore them.

Then of course I do like to watch anything about the Luton Girls Choir, Julie Andrews, Mary Tyler More or the Chippendales. Or Barack Obama in a swim suit.

As for classical music and mulling over life’s mysteries? The two go together dear. Do listen to Elgar’s Cello Concerto and see if your soul is not moved to believe that life is good and the verdict is ‘Yes’ not ‘No’! Or the aria Un Bel Di Vedremo from Puccini’s Madama Butterfly and consider why the words go in one direction, saying yes, yes, yes and the music in the opposite saying no, no, no. Poor Butterfly.   

Recently my darling pembantu who I simply cherish and cannot live without – she always knows where my other stocking is – asked me, “Bu Mavis, why don’t we have music like this in our culture?” 

“Because darling, you live in a culture that doesn’t take human nature seriously.”

She went off to think about that one while pouring the gins and tonics. She doesn’t drink herself of course. Unless there is French Champagne on offer. 

Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis, 

If you could vote in next week’s Jakarta’s gubernatorial election, who would you vote for?
And what are your thoughts on “golput”? The candidates, they all don’t seem promising to me. I know for sure I won’t vote for “moustache.”
 


Undecided Voter

Dear Undecided Voter,

As I am not a citizen of Indonesia nor eligible to vote in Jakarta, I do not think I can presume to advise people who to vote for.

Although as a sane person I think I can presume to advise people who NOT to vote for: namely any of the candidates who  say they are going to solve Jakarta’s problems and make life better for everyone.  Obviously such people are delusional. 

Vote for someone who says: “I cannot change Jakarta – but I can change myself. Will you come with me?”

As for ‘golput’? It is not only a person’s sacred right to vote but their public duty. And although the candidates are by and large a shameful bunch of mediocrities wishing to enrich themselves, if I were to go solo on this and caste a solo vote, I would not find myself feeling solo but caste my solo vote with others who think that it is better to light a solo candle than to curse and remain in the fuzzy darkness.
 
PS: Golput is “golongan putih” (white group). It is for the group or people who do not give their vote during the election. Many people in Indonesia are “golput” for years because they don’t see any good candidates… both presidential election or gubernatorial election.

Aunty Mavis

While comments about readers problems can be posted on line and are
welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions
concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis
at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com 



The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

My husband and I are not as loving and friendly as we used to be. In fact he has taken to disagreeing with me in public. There was a time when I had a senior position but I trusted him so much I used to let him take charge of things and make the decisions I was meant to make while I relaxed at home watching television or shopping or putting on big parties or traveling overseas. Since I lost my position my husband has changed. I want to get my position back but he tells me to forget it. He says I’m passed it. Should I encourage my daughter to try and run things as I did. I mean, as my husband did?

Meg, Jakarta.

Dear Meg,

There comes a time when all of us have to face the facts and realize that we have had our day in the sun, and to retire graciously. From what I hear around town, neither you nor your husband – nor your daughter – really have what it takes to do what’s required.
 
Just stay at home and look at your old home movies of daddy and thank your cotton socks that so far you and hubby have managed to avoid any investigations into the family’s bank accounts.

In retirement, try writing a crook, oops, cook book. 

Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,

I am engaged to a wonderful girl, but I am much more in love with her younger sister. I haven’t told her sister I love her, and I don’t think she knows that I do. But I can’t keep my eyes off her when I visit and I am afraid my fiancé will soon notice. Once recently I called my fiancé by her sister’s name. What am I to do?

Anxious and Upset. 

Dear Anxious and Upset,

Get out of town. Fast.

Aunty Mavis.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

How do you know when you are really in love with someone?

Berry, Bogor

Dear Berry,

When you prefer to be in their company rather than off doing something else with other people.

Aunty Mavis.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

What are the important mysteries of life to figure out? I feel I am just drifting and am not sure why I am always not completely happy? What am I missing out on?

Adit.

Dear Adit,

Well, dear, if we all knew the answer to those questions, the world – and everyone in it – would be happier.

I can’t presume to look into people’s hearts. But enough joy and enough sorrow over the years have taught me at least, that there are two things that people need to get some kind of understanding of, if they are to find meaning and happiness: sex and religion, because both are ultimately concerned with experiencing intimacy.

Everyone needs to feel connected: with something bigger and more awe-inspiring than themselves (religion) and with themselves and other people (sex).

It is fairly obvious that sex gives most people a few difficulties in life – either because they don’t understand it or it does not bring them the fulfillment and happiness they thought it would. This is largely die to expecting more from sex than it can give.

As for religion, well, old Aunty Mavis has really struck a politically incorrect tine here by even mentioning the word, but the fact remains that most people in the world have the spiritual maturity of eight year olds and either think of God as an internalized monster out to smack us for being naughty and who throws tantrums if we don’t bow and scrape before Him. Of course that’s not God, but a sham and an excuse for god. God has got a lot to do with love.

And then there are all those ‘sophisticated’ people who just think the ‘god thing’ is a lot of nonsense and that religion is responsible for all the ills in history – wars and ignorance and all that waffle.  These people are likewise immature spiritually because they have created a silly idea of God as an excuse not to face Him.

The mystery, dear Adit, is “love.” And the confusion is that we can’t forgive ourselves for being lovable – and for being not perfect. So we end up isolated; alone, feeling lonely, longing for the other who alone can help us find ourselves.

We’ll never figure it out of course, but in time, by trying to figure it out, if we are honest with ourselves, we will get some sense of meaning, and therefore happiness.

This can be too hard for some people – so they settle for second or third best – and shop till they drop or karaoke themselves out of existence. Anything to distract them from making friends wit themselves. Really arrogant and superior people are the worst at doing this – hiding from themselves.

Our hearts are meant for great things. Unhappiness comes from filling our hearts with junk and thinking it will satisfy us. And sometimes the ‘junk’ is expensive junk.

And remember, happiness is a by-product. If you go looking for it you won’t find it. Instead, stop being concerned about being happy. Stop looking for happiness and just love other people. And sooner or later, you will mysteriously discover that you are happy.

Aunty Mavis

While comments about readers problems can be posted on line and are
welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions
concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis
at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com 



The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

Please give me some advice on controlling a sudden rage whether it happens at the office (with a bossy colleague, the gossiping colleague or maybe the boss) or at home (with siblings or my very own parents). When I got this burning rage last time my brother who is very stubborn with his own opinions, I threw a fist into the brick wall. I felt a bit better and later had bruises on my knuckles. These days our relationship is better. Can you tell me how to manage anger so I can be a professional at work and also at home as a family member?

Marvin.

Dear Marvin,

“It is the mark of the virtuous man to be angry at injustice.” I do so adore Thomas Aquinas, don’t you? So full of common sense all those centuries ago. It’s a pity people don’t heed him much these days. I guess that’s why there is so much destructive anger around resulting in violence.
 
People in this country carry so many cultural burdens with a smile to cover their pain and frustration. You are not allowed to get angry, not allowed to show it if you are, not allowed to give bad news, not allowed to be upset if you receive it – and all the time you are expected to remain placid and smile while louts walk all over you. Someone once explained this to me as, “Indonesians have more self control than other people.”

Well, that’s nonsense of course. One only has to read this newspaper to see how much self control Indonesians don’t have. Why they can’t even keep their hands off other people’s money!

Marvin, you appear to be angry because people are walking all over you – the bully in the office, the gossip, self opinionated siblings and interfering parents. Who wouldn’t be angry? You have every right to be. No one has the right to push other people around. Hence, there is nothing wrong with your righteous anger. To be angry when people treat you badly is natural, just and appropriate. To be angry because you want to hurt people however, is not.

The thing is, dear, how to manage your justifiable anger so it does not become simply a means for you to vent your feelings or worse, become destructive. This is something we must all learn and it is easy, although it takes courage.

The next time someone pushes you around in the office or at home or anywhere – remain calm, look them in the eye and with a quiet yet firm voice, simply say to them, “Who do you think you are?”

That ought to put them back in their place. Remember these people are bullies which means they are cowards and don’t like to be confronted. And such a calm response from you will throw them into confusion and it will save your knuckles from getting bruised. It will also save your dignity and self respect which otherwise would be lost in angry destructive behavior. You see Marvin, you don’t have anger rages but integrity flashes. Much better making.

Aunty Mavis
 
 
Dear Aunty Mavis,

I’m gay and I have a crush on my straight friend. To be honest, I’m not 100 percent sure if he is straight or not. He never told me about having a girlfriend or anything, yet he seems straight. What bugs me is that he’s very nice to me and, well, totally my type.

What should I do? Asking him if he’s gay or not seems to be rude, or is it? Or should I just ‘crush’ this crush and go find another potential mate?

Single Boy.



Dear Single Boy,

Sadly, discussing sex in Indonesia is something that is simply not done because, as you say, it is considered ‘rude’ – or immoral or impolite or not nice. That’s why, it appears to me, this country is obsessed with sex.  

You, on the other hand, appear to have taken responsibility for your sexuality and are comfortable with your identity. Well done! It’s a rare achievement here in the land of “let’s not face human nature but deny it.” How silly.

Your “gay-dar” tells you your straight friend may be gay but you are unsure and clearly you do not wish to spoil a friendship that means a lot to you by expressing your feelings towards him and not having them reciprocated.  

Presumably your friend knows you are gay. Is that the case? And if he is happy to spend time in your company and desires your friendship, for the time being  I should leave it at that. If he has no girlfriend or interests in that area and is interested in you, in time he will make that obvious.  

In the meantime, be a loving friend to him, which will involve something more than romantic feelings. It will involve patience, consideration and genuine care and respect. And anyone, gay or straight who receives this from another, will certainly cherish the person who gives such love.

And continue to be true to yourself – and that means being a confident, well balanced gay man. Your example may give him the courage he needs to come out – and if he is not gay – then you will have the friendship and support of someone you love and admire. Both ways you win. Because behaving like that will be noticed by others and someone else will come along and be swept of their tooty-toes by you and you by them.

Aunty Mavis.
 
 
While comments about readers problems can be posted on line and are
welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions
concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis
at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com 



The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

Recently I was standing in line at the bank and a man came in and went right up to the front of the queue and demanded to be served before everyone else because he said he was important. I told him he was being rude and he should wait his turn like everyone else but he shouted at me, “Don’t you know who I am?” I got frightened and didn’t say anything else.  What should I have done?

Andi, South Tangerang.

Dear Andi,

Many years ago one puffed up self-important dope called Mussolini – later to become dictator of Italy – was accompanying the King of Italy to an audience with the Pope in the Vatican. The Pope was granting an audience to the King only but Mr Important Mussolini tried to elbow his way into the room. He was stopped at the door by a simple monk.

“Don’t you know who I am?” shouted an indignant Il Duce. “I am Mussolini!”

“That explains but doesn’t excuse your atrocious manners,” replied the monk with a sweet smile. 

He didn’t get in to the audience and cooled his heals outside. A few years later the Italian people strung this arrogant man up by his heals from a lamp post.

Being ‘important’ is a national vice in Indonesia. If you have to tell people you are important, then you aren’t. But it seems, sadly, most people here really accept the nonsense that some people are more important than others because they have money or they are some Big Wig, puffed chested moron who can’t even carry his own bag or coat into a meeting or make his own coffee. It’s pathetic.

When this ignoramus shouted, “Don’t you know who I am?” you should have said to the other people in the queue, “Oh dear! This mental retard is either so stupid or forgetful that he doesn’t know who he is anymore and has forgotten his own name and is asking us to tell him?”
 
Then the oldest lady in the queue should have kicked him in the bottom or grabbed him by his ear and led him to the back of the line. And everyone should have laughed at him.

If you are not prepared to say and do any of these things, then continue to be a backward country, frightened by the thugs running the place and walking all over you.

They only have power and jump the queue because you allow them to. 

Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,

My best friend’s wife is having an affair behind his back and he is completely unaware of it. Should I tell him?

Samy, BSD City

Dear Samy,

Oh dear, this is always a hard one. Sometimes in life we are powerless and unable to change things and simply have to stand by and hope for the best.

The direct and simple answer is: No, you cannot tell him because it is none of your business despite the fact that presumably your concern is for your best friend’s well being.

Although, if you have information as to, for instance, what restaurants or bars his wife frequents with her bit-on-the-side, it is completely acceptable for you to make sure you and your friend turn up at the same time and place, just coincidently, and leave the rest to him.

Keep a straight face.

Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,

I have a few confessions to make. I hate durian, batik, ayam kampung, nasi goreng and dangdut music. And I’m Indonesian! Should I be ashamed of myself?

Dayat, Jakarta.

Dear Dayat,

I wouldn’t say you should be ashamed of yourself. Rather, I think you should recognize that you are one of those rare people who walk a less travelled road. You are an exile in your own country which gives you a perspective on life that is different from other people. You should explore this further and develop it.

Every county and culture have nationalistic icons and symbols – either food, dress, culture – that when inspected closely should arouse nothing but shame and embarrassment. Why, it was a Canadian who invented the bagpipes and sold them to the Scots for a joke. Trouble is the Scots haven’t seen the joke yet.

And it was an Albanian clog chiseler who invented the hamburger which was tried and taken by an American named J Willoughby Cartwright III who was passing through and dropped by his hovel for a glass of Plum Brandy  – who took the idea back to Clankscille, Missouri in 1868 and opened the first hamburger joint, and things were never the same in that country. Junk food had arrived and soon America’s brains were so addled with chemicals they began dropping bombs on countries all across the free world in the name of democracy.
 
Probably if you looked into it, the iconic national symbols of Indonesia were probably either invented by or introduced into the country by some passing traveller from Spain, Wales or The Cocos Islands a few hundred years ago. It’s still happening today. Why today, most Indonesians, for instance, truly believe that the Indonesian flag is original – when in fact it was bought from a Polish jerkin salesman passing through – but he was so drunk at the time, he gave it to them upside down – and so it has remained to this day.

Be proud of your country, but not so proud that you can’t recognize a joke when it has been foisted on you. And as for the things you mention? I’ve experienced and enjoyed them all – once.

If you and I should pass each other on that road, do say hello.

Aunty Mavis

While comments about readers problems can be posted on line and are
welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions
concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis
at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com 



The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

My boyfriend doesn’t seem to be as interested in me as he used to and hardly says a word to me these days although I am always trying to say interesting and funny things to him like telling him about the funny movie about the girl who was in love with two boys and one of them was in a car and something funny happened to him. And like yesterday another funny thing happened in the office while I was eating noodles with one of the girls and she dropped some on the desk and it was so funny because we were laughing so much and I was telling her about what I want to do in the mall this weekend. And there is this shop that has all kinds of lovely handbags and make-up things and then I was going to tell him about my aunty who comes to visit and what happened when I was in the third grade but sometimes when I look into his eyes he just looks bored or like he is a zombie. And he has a blank look on his face and that worries me because I am always saying funny, interesting things but he doesn’t seem interested. What’s wrong with him do you think?

Elka.

Dear Elka,

I’m not sure there is anything wrong… with him. On the other hand, you certainly have a great talent there every time you open your mouth. Very entertaining! Surely there must be a way you could make a lot of money from it.

Aunty Mavis.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

I want the best for my child. He’s seven years old and enrolled in an exclusive school. He has a nanny (of course), a driver, his own pembantu at home and I accompany him to school and collect him at the end of the day. I am very demanding of his teachers because I know my boy is special.

I have enrolled him in additional classes after school and at weekends and during the school holidays  – maths tuition, advanced science, special language classes, tennis academy, dancing, acting classes and athletics. I am considering getting him a personal football trainer and swimming coach. I am hoping he will become either a lawyer, a banker, a diplomat or a film star. What more can I do to help my darling son reach his full potential and be happy? My remarkable child deserves the best money can buy.

Devoted Mother.

Dear Devoted Mother,

Yes, your seven year old son is truly a remarkable and special child, because he hasn’t gone crazy yet. However, you are a mad woman and you need to see a psychiatrist.

Bored, pushy mothers like you with too much money and too much time on their hands create little monsters. You say you are doing this because you love your child. You don’t. You are smothering him because you desperately need your child’s love, presumably because you are stuck in a lousy marriage with some oaf of a husband who doesn’t care about you. So your ‘darling boy’ has become your substitute husband.

When the brat reaches the age of fourteen or so – if not before then – he will realize that you have deprived him of his childhood, worked him like a slave, pressured and bullied him into doing all kinds of things he has hated. In time he will come to recognize that you are a lunatic. Then where will you be? Alone! Lost! Abandoned!

Get your face out of your child’s life and let him be a little boy. And while you are about it – get a life for yourself. Everyone will be much happier. And who knows, if your husband sees that you have stopped being a neurotic, overbearing nit-wit — and your son sees you have enough love and trust to look after yourself by having your own interests independent of him – they may well end up liking you because, at present, you are a very unlikable person and the person who dislikes you the most is yourself.

And I say all this, sweetie, in the nicest possible way.

Aunty Mavis.

While comments about readers problems can be posted on line and are welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com 



The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,
Why do your glasses resemble a bra?
Quas

Dear Quas,
They don’t. Unless of course you or someone you know has breasts shaped like a Cheshire cat’s eyes.

I bought these glasses from a little shop on the Via Veneto in 1956. They were quite expensive and I hesitated at the price, but the charming man who both made and sold them, gave me one of the best pieces of advice ever: “Signora, we who are poor cannot afford to buy cheap things.”

I was a young thing then and, like dear Coco, thankfully aware that elegance and style are not the prerogative of someone who has just escaped from adolescence but of those who have already taken possession of their future.

That’s why fifty six years later I am still wearing them — and still being noticed.
Aunty Mavis.

Dear Aunty Mavis,
When I have friends or clients in my car, should I play modern music that I don’t enjoy but will make me seem cool and modern, or should I play classical music that I enjoy listening to but may give the impression that I am dull and old fashioned?
V

Dear V,
Why are you living your life trying to impress people and believing it’s up to you to keep them happy? Why don’t you just be yourself?

The ancient Romans had a saying, “meus domum meus sceptrum” (“my house, my rules”). And I think the same applied to chariots: My car, my rules and definitely my music.
 
We live in a world today where the most appalling noises are thrust at us from the television, in malls, on the wireless (I have never got used to the word ‘radio’), and at social events – on the presumption that we all like to hear music that sounds like it’s coming from someone who is having a difficult stool — or has a rubber band around their throat.
 
Why people presume that everyone likes and wants to hear pop music is beyond me? Here in Indonesia it’s made worse when it is screamed at you with death inducing levels of out of tune, monotonous screech. They don’t sing in bands here – they shout and show off. And that hopping on one foot! Very annoying.
 
I recall the time a young man came to dinner who thought classical music was Barbra Streisand. I sent him into the lounge with a large beverage while I finished straining the cabbage to make the gravy (always use your cabbage water to make gravy along with the pan juices and the roast potato tidbits stuck to the pan).
 
When I joined him some minutes later the sweet thing was sitting on the chesterfield with tears coursing down his fabulous face.

“That’s the most beautiful music I’ve heard in my life,” he said looking up as a tear sploshed into his Clos de Vougeot.

“Yes dear. Rachmaninov has that affect on people.”

That night, besides demolishing a roast chook, mounds of veg and three servings of Eton Mess, he blubed though Allegri, Puccini and Jussi Bjorling singing ‘I dream of Jeanie’.  Later, he was so overcome with the Miners’ Lament and Minnie’s Farewell from The Girl of the Golden West, I had to revive him with a bucket of gin. He chortled his way through Gilbert and Sullivan and Rossini then shook his booty around the room to Scarlatti, Beethoven and Mozart. In the months that followed he discovered Noel Coward, Getrude Lawrence, Gregorian Chant (no dear, not a Thai boy’s name), Lucia Popp and Gershwin. And those fabulous boys from Shanghai, He Zhanhao and Chen Gang. I adore them.

My young man in question had few prospects at the time, apart from his looks and a body like mortal sin. He thought of going into the sex industry but that night changed his life. He is now an organ tuner which is much more satisfying than being an organ tugger, which, I am afraid V, seems to be the people you are keeping company with. Toss them, so to speak, mindful of those immortal words,
       
The man that hath no music in himself,
       
Nor is not mov’d with concord of sweet sounds,
       
Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils;
       
The motions of his spirit are dull as night
       
And his affections dark as Erebus:
       
Let no such man be trusted.

You see, V, it’s not a question of snobbery — classical music versus popular music. Personally I like some popular stuff. I find the dear President’s songs very helpful for getting me to sleep, dear man,  — rather it’s the fact that you are allowing others to dictate your self image and intimidate you. What other people think of you is none of your business. If that were understood in Asian culture – this would be a completely different world. And we would all be singing a very different song.

 
Dear Aunty Mavis,
Do you think Lady Gaga’s performance should be banned in Indonesia?
Amy, Jakarta.

Dear Amy,

I guess if you are going to have a failed police state run by thugs, whose morality is based on the pursuit of money and the spreading of lies, ignorance, fear and violence, I can think of others to ban rather than a peroxide blond with a sirloin steak on her noggin.

Aunty Mavis.

While comments about readers problems can be posted on line and are welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com 



The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

I am confused about my life’s future direction. I can’t make up my mind whether to become a politician, a business woman, a soap opera star or marry a rich man and become a socialite. What’s the first step I should take to help me end up in the best place?

Eva, Gading Serpong.

Dear Eva, 

Get yourself a good lawyer. You’re heading for prison.

Aunty Mavis

 

Dear Aunty Mavis,

I do enjoy your column. Where do you find yourself in the nature/nurture debate over the reasons for homosexuality? I am confused about the matter.

Nigel. 

Dear Nigel,

You are not the only one who is confused. If recent events are anything to go by while darling Irshad Manji has been in town, there is a lot of misinformation and sheer irrational fear and ignorance floating around out there, if not smashing people in the face.

You ask if homosexuality is the result of ‘nature’ – meaning – a person is physically, chemically, genetically born that way – or is it ‘nurture’ – that is –  a person is born sexually neutral but develops as a gay person because of their environment and their upbringing. 

For instance, a young man may turn out to be gay because when he was a little child he had a weak, distant father and a possessive and dominant mother. Or a straight man in prison has no opportunity for heterosexual activity, so he ends up having a bit of hows-yer-father with his cell mates. That actually happens a lot, even if people don’t want to talk about it. Dear cousin Jack who fell very low because of a bungled Hatton Gardens diamond hoist back in the 50’s spent a few years on holiday at Her Majesty’s pleasure. Evidently he had a very amusing time in Wormwood Scrubs Prison. Or so his wife Etty told me. She said when he came out he had learnt a few tricks that certainly livened up their sex life.

Frankly, to answer your question – neither I nor anyone in the world really know with absolute certainty why about 10% of people are gay and why many more than 10% of people have, at some stage in their lives,  had some experience of same sex activity, although, if you asked them, they wouldn’t consider themselves to be gay. There are lots of theories around, some of them plausible, but in fact, none have been proven with 100% certainty no matter what claims people make and how authoritatively they make them.

We simply have to live with the fact that we do not know the causes of homosexuality – we can only theorize and no one theory can be proven. Like most things in life, it’s probably a combination of many influences from both nature and nurture.

As a mother of two gay sons and a lesbian daughter –  and having numerous homosexual friends and relatives –I can say that my life has been enriched by them  as much as the relationships with my other children and friends. The only sadness and concern I have experienced connected with this has been when people, who are unsure about their own sexual identity, lash out in fear at gay people. Of course, they always claim that they are morally superior and trying to defend society from moral collapse, but in fact they are hateful people who don’t want to face their own sexual insecurities. Many people who persecute gay people are closet gays themselves. I mean – look at that great big powder puff J. Edgar Hoover. What a mischievous old busy body he was.

Across the years I have found that people who are secure in their own sexual identity, generally are accepting of others whose sexuality is different. People who don’t know whether they are Arthur or Martha, are sometimes judgmental of others more confident than them and see life only as either black or white, rather than shades of gray and sometimes pink. And pink and gray are a delightful color combination, don’t you think?

I have not offered any opinion on whether homosexuality is either morally right or wrong, because you did not ask me, and besides, that is a whole different question. Sadly here in Indonesia rational discussion about sexuality is not encouraged, sometimes not even tolerated or allowed.

Oddly, the people here who tell others what to believe, and smash up meetings where people have come to discuss and search and explore difficult questions with honesty and integrity are often those who shout a lot and have angry faces and  dress up in long dresses, veils and funny hats and disguise their identity. And I find that all a bit – well, frankly – queer. Don’t you?

Aunty Mavis. 

While comments about readers problems can be posted on line and are welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com

The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,

I know the term is not perfect, but do you consider yourself a feminist?

Feminist, East Jakarta.

Dear Feminist,

Am I a feminist? Frankly my dear, I’ve never asked myself.

I consider myself to be first and foremost a woman and, I hope, a lady. I have also been a wife – my late dear husband, Formosus, was taken by a tiger in Karachi while fossicking for rare plants. I have had, you may well understand, an aversion to gardening ever since. And tigers.

I have raised 12 children; some of them mine, some dear Formosus came home with. I never asked any questions. Formosus was a very virile man. We had a very happy marriage. Formosus was always the head of our household and made the final decisions after consulting me. It always worked out perfectly.
 
I have also enjoyed the stimuli and achievements of a career besides raising my large family and carrying my husband every inch of the way. I was the first woman to officially qualify and practice as a Chubb Fuddler. I found chubbs a great workplace leveler and I experienced no antagonism from my fellow fuddlers.

I have been far too busy enjoying my own life and that of my family and friends to think too much about my rights or whether I have been dealt a cruel hand by being born a woman. It never occurred to me that I was not equal to men or they equal to me.

But I sometimes wonder whether some women, when they say they want equality, mean that they really want to be the same as men. Why on earth would any woman want that? Men and women are similar but different. We both shave; but different parts of the body. Women who don’t shave are usually aggressively ugly, and I find that sad.

I am not opposed to the family as the basic unit of society, or children or having sex with a man and I like to keep myself looking feminine. I believe there is no profession a woman can’t enter and be paid the same wage as a man for doing the same work and have the same chances of promotion – based on merit and competence. However, I do not like to see women in the armed forces or sweeping streets. Nor do I agree with women clergy. I like to go to confession — not have a gossip.
 
I’ve never hated men. I’m told some feminists do. I believe that’s called “feminazi.”

I may have met a feminist once. She kept saying, “I will not be dictated to.”  She was a stenographer. Rum.
 
I don’t believe there are any feminists in Indonesia. You see, feminism didn’t and doesn’t exist in the Middle Ages.

Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,

How can I become witty? There are times when I don’t know how to respond to some joke directed at me. I simply can’t think of anything smart or funny to say in response. Usually I just giggle, which makes the whole situation even more awkward.

Is the ability to be witty something people are naturally born with? Is there anything I can do to develop this gift?
Anti-social.

Dear Anti-social,

The next time your wise-cracking friends are making jokes at your expense and making you feel small, just imagine in your mind that the fools are standing there in their underwear. That’ll soon give you something to really laugh about.

In the meantime, develop inner strength, confidence (you are more than likely not “anti-social”), serenity and compassion for the ridiculousness of life and the shallowness of most people. Above all, start believing that what most people consider important today, isn’t. Do this by turning off your television, throwing away your mobile phone, get off Facebook, stop watching movies made after 1959 and only read books written before then. Learn to drink and appreciate whiskey or red wine, steak and cigars, if you are not already doing so.

Within a short time you will be so witty you’ll have a new set of friends and be loved and esteemed by them because you are loving and have a benign attitude toward the stupidity of human existence — and its beauty.

You see, “wit” is a way of speaking the truth about ourselves. Telling jokes and being funny are simply ways of doing gymnastics with words. Any fool can do that. Even American comedians do it. Ah! Americans! A noble race. Trouble is, they do not know how to eat asparagus properly. That accounts for the decline of wit in that country.

Aunty Mavis

While comments about readers problems can be posted online and are welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com
 
The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,


My thoughts are still lingering on the boy I had a fling with months ago. He ignored me after the fling and yet I keep recalling things about him. I might have fallen for him emotionally. How should I deal with this and move on?


Marvin

Dear Marvin,


What lovely words you use — “linger” and “fling” — so emotive. “Lingering on like an unloved guest; I sighed for thee.” And “fling” — I’m glad that word’s still around. Last time I heard someone use it was when Kathleen O’Hooligan told me of an interlude with a security guard from Bogor where she was an English tutor to a very nice family (curious how their “English” sounded like “Irish”). Poor Kathleen. She never could resist a man in uniform. Evidently, the fling wasn’t a lot of fun, but it did take the weight off her feet from time to time.

You, on the other hand, seem smitten by someone who is ignoring you. Never easy.

Presumably the things you recall about him are the good things and that makes him still attractive in your eyes. He is, however, ignoring you, which is not a mature behavior, so he does have a downside.

Time to wake up to yourself and move on. How? First you need to say “goodbye” to him — even if it is just said silently by you in your heart. And then, mourn his passing for a day or two, cry a bit – and then start looking around. Not for a “fling,” but for a friend. Because, as you see, a “fling” is as it says — something that’s thrown away, discarded. And none of us deserves that. 

Sadly, Kathleen never took my advice. Last I heard she was holed up with another man in uniform — he’s in the FPI. Silly goose.

Aunty Mavis 

 
Dear Aunty Mavis,



I enjoy reading your advice every Friday in the Jakarta Globe. Your advice is very helpful. I hope you can advise me how to handle a serious problem in a sensitive manner.



My wife likes to wear jeans, a T-shirt, flat sandals and skin-colored cotton underwear. Being that I am now over 40, I find it difficult to get aroused even at the best of times. Now she doesn’t turn me on at all. I often ask her to wear short skirts, high heels, more sexy underwear, but it falls on deaf ears. We argue almost daily. She feels I don’t do my duty as a husband because I am content with making love less than once a month, and then only to get her off my back.



I believe if she made more of an effort to look sexy, or at least not like an old lady from a village, I would be able to rise to the occasion more often.



Thank you for your help in this delicate matter.

 

Unaroused 
 

Dear Unaroused,

Burn all her underwear. Take a pair of scissors to her jeans and cut them into tiny shorts — really tiny ones — and cut off the bottoms of her T-shirts to expose her midriff and the sleeves to expose her shoulders. Do a rough job. Splash out and buy her a pair of high heels. Red ones. And some dangly earrings.

If she won’t wear the gear — don’t wear her. If she complains, tell her you don’t much like the idea of making love to someone who reminds you of your great aunt. Then start admiring every pretty girl in sight — out loud in her presence. And ask her opinion of them.

If that still doesn’t move her to get herself into gear and stop looking like a frump, then obviously she is a founding member of The Dowdy Wives Club: A notoriously disobedient, bossy, harping lot.

So then it’s time for you to buy yourself some really great gear so that you look and feel a million dollars. Take her out in her frump clothes while you look absolutely desirable. Be very charming to all the lady shop assistants and waitresses. That should do it. 

Aunty Mavis 

 
Dear Aunty Mavis,

There is a bule guy who works in our office and he’s a real cool dude. Except for one thing. When he comes out for a meal with the rest of us, he has appalling manners.



He refuses to make sucking noises when he’s eating like the rest of us do. How can I tell him he needs to make loud noises and slurp because he’s in Asia now?

Herry 

  

Dear Herry,

I give advice about etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries. I don’t give provocation for starting international wars. 

By the way, there should be a tax on the words “guy,” “cool” and “dude.” Nice people don’t use them.

 

Aunty Mavis

 
While comments about readers’ problems can be posted online and are welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com 



The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,
I’m having strong feelings for our local imam (worship leader of a mosque and Muslim community). His firebrand sermons and three-hair chin beard scare me and make me quiver with fright … but strangely I’m attracted to him.

So do you think I should approach him and reveal my strong feelings for him, or just attend my bakso (meatball) stand outside the mosque and watch him from afar?
BasoBudi, Tebet.

Dear BasoBudi,
Quivering with fright and delight at the sight and sound of your imam would indicate that you are a normal hot-blooded same-sex attracted man with deep-seated urgings of the libido that are common place, if not to everyone’s taste. Like bakso.
 
The thing is – will your feelings be reciprocated? If the newspapers are anything to go by, it is not completely out of the question.
What surveillance methods are you employing to discern his possible feelings toward you, apart from the “standing around all day by my bakso stall waiting for him to appear” caper? Can you set a spy on to him to watch his movements? Do you know any?

Does he partake of your wares? Does he make eye contact with you, smile and make the bowl wobble? Have you been able to discern from his manner and tone if there is even the remotest chance he may reciprocate your unrequited love and devotion? Remember, you may have a lot of competition in the romance stakes here – symbolic figures, especially men in robes, tend to attract romantic followers. It’s got something to do with them being above us, and therefore unattainable. Or so some of them think. It goes with the territory.  

Are you sure you want to spend your life loving pure and chaste from afar? You could be dreaming of the impossible.

Then again, you may have idealized him and projected on to him qualities he may not have. Take the beard, for instance — for imams it’s an outward expression of wisdom. Three hairs, while sexy in a strange sort of tickling way, don’t promise much in the way of profound and meaningful intercourse (I use the word in it’s intellectual interaction sense). Three hairs and a firebrand mentality could indicate a stagnated adolescent venting his frustrations under the guise of calling for universal peace and brotherhood in a muscular sort of way.   

Personally, I would never choose to give my heart to a man who unfrocks. One who undresses, yes, but unfrocks, never. The distinction is important and worth pondering.

Because you find this man attractive, there is every chance others who attend do likewise and think like you. No doubt some of them are your customers. Watch for eye contact as you dish out your delicious, steaming hot bakso. You may discover you have one or two silent admirers of your own. I think with them you would be on firmer ground. And it will save you the expense of setting a spy to watch him. Espionage is expensive. Save your money for other things. I hear Rome is beautiful this time of year. Lots of men in frocks there too.
Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,
What is the correct etiquette for traveling in an elevator? Is it correct to carry on a conversation or not? I notice most people stop talking when traveling between floors.
Baffled, Kebayoran.

Dear Baffled,
For many this remains one of life’s unsolved mysteries — whether to talk away ten to the dozen, or to stand mute looking at the panel of little numbers light up until your destination is reached.

Contrary to social conventions, I suggest you blabber away. The opportunity is a godsend. You have the stage all to yourself and a captive audience. So be a “star,” even if only for a short time.    

Generally the more outrageous the conversation the better because everyone will be listening, although pretending not to listen.

If with a companion, something along these lines is always sure to get all ears fixed on you: “Well, I said to him, ‘I don’t care that you have a big one, I’m not touching it.’ And do you know what he said? ‘Go on! You know you want to.’  The cheek of him. I gave him the rough end of my tongue, I can tell you …”

You know you are talking about his pet rabbit ­— but they are sure to think you are talking about something completely different, and this will make you an object of envy, scandal, awe and wonder in their sight. Not a bad audience reaction. Most “stars” would give their eyeteeth for such. And I bet they all start talking the minute you get out.
Aunty Mavis.

While comments about readers problems can be posted on line and are welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com

The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,
There are homeless people and lots of orphaned children dying in the streets from hunger and diseases, but do you think I can wear my blue suede shoes with my green batik to the office? Doesn’t the old adage go ‘blue and green should never be seen’? Please help.
OVOxo

Dear OVOxo,
Your question is made up of two parts indicating the profound moral dilemma you are wresting with, namely – Do I have a right to be well-dressed surrounded by people who are poor, homeless and starving?
Here are two ways of approaching the issue.

One is to go all out Eva Peron or Imelda Marcos and swan up the street dressed to the nines singing “Don’t Cry for Me Indonesia” bestowing smiles and pats on the head to all in distress, accompanied by those heart-wrenching words, “I set you free.” This approach is aimed at making you feel better about yourself. It does damn all for the poor.

Alternatively, you can do a blue-and-white sari (it helps if you have a face like a walnut a la Mother Teresa — Darling woman! I adore her!) or sackcloth or perhaps a saffron robe and get in and down with the destitute. This makes both a radical fashion statement and, while it usually results in loosing all your friends and family, so too your problem disappears. The only people who will henceforth relate to you are the poor, so wondering what to wear each morning, and the guilt associated with it, disappears. Poverty is a great fashion leveler.

However, I don’t think that’s your real problem. Your problem seems to me that you feel you have to change the world. It’s a noble sentiment and I admire you for it. However, you can’t. You can only change yourself. And that’s as easy and as difficult as choosing which shirt to wear.
Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,
Any thoughts on splitting the cheque? At what point do men stop paying the bill when out on a dinner date? It would appear that even in these modern times a lot of women still expect the man to pay for everything.
Bewildered, Rasuna Said.

Dear Bewildered,
The third date. Three strikes and she’s out!

I can see it’s about time the Aunty Mavis General Rule of Good Manners, number 1472.iv is published again. It’s quite simple. If you invite someone out to dinner – you pay, because the other person is your guest. Guests don’t pay. If the other person does not reciprocate your hospitality by the third date, they definitely have no manners and are not worth knowing.   

As you say, we live in ‘modern’ times but some women want it both ways – to have all the benefits and opportunities of women’s liberation and for men to pay for their treats as if they are kept women. These brats need to grow up. Unless of course you know for certain that she is desperately poor and a genuinely loving person. Then she won’t mind whether you take her to the Ritz Carlton or a street stall. Either way she will be appreciative and return your kindness with gratitude and thoughtfulness which you will easily recognize. She will make you feel as special as you have made her. 

Little Missy Spoiled Brats Brain Like a Squid Self Centered Gold Diggers are incapable of doing this. They only make you feel like a resentful slave. They are easily recognized. Normally they will be texting their friends rather than talking to you while you fork out for their dinner. Not only money-grubbing but vulgar and dull too.

Before you break off with such a one, as you push the bill towards her across the table, lean over, smile, and say quietly, “I hate you. Bye, bye!” Then leave her to fumble with her purse and you to find a real woman.
Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,
The polo fellows from the Sportsmen’s Bar Blok M send their best wishes and a big cheerio, and kisses at the Happy Hour.
Bluey

Dear Bluey,
Hello pet. Obviously you are out of the clink and back on your barstool. I’m sure you were glad of a rest. I know I should be. 
Aunty Mavis had been busy, Dear. Organising the Old Girls Reunion. Tell the boys we’ll all be there and to line up the beverages. We can play the Dry Martini Game again. You remember that one don’t you? Four of us drink a liter of Dry Martini in fifteen minutes, then one of us leaves the room. That’s when we play the game. The other three try and guess who it was who left. That should get the party going.
Aunty Mavis
  

While comments about readers problems can be posted on line and are welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com 



The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

Advice From Aunty Mavis: A guide to social etiquette and life’s
mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,
I am wondering what to wear out tonight: The combat gear, the slinky off-the-shoulder cocktail dress, or the Nike running shoes?
Dezmond

Dear Dezmond,
I take it you are attending the Masonic Lodge. Wear what you think will most appeal to the goat.
Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,
Should I use casual Gucci loafers or rather formal Church shoes when visiting flooded areas in order to protect my feet? Or what makes a better fashion fit — Larry King-style suspenders or the classic belt (with the prominent fake brand logo buckle, of course) with Bermuda shorts? Or should I wear socks with flip-flops … or not?
Roland

Dear Roland,
Well-dressed men are always “chaps,” and a chap wears plimsolls rather than Gucci loafers. He certainly never wears anything with a coin bung on it. If visiting flood areas, may I suggest an alternative to either plimsolls or sensible Church shoes? The Carthusian monks (Monasterio del Rosario, Madrid) make very serviceable gum boots (chartreuse green or monk’s pate pink), which are much more acceptable and cheerful in a socially damp milieu. In the event your visit is charitable, with an aim to pulling people out, I am told drowning people appreciate a sense of style in those saving them from the great “glug glug glug.” You’re “a rare sport” in a national sport — watching people “go under.” It’s a luxury sport indulged in by the elite here, I’m sure you’ve noticed.
 
Roland, a chap must never wear a belt. Only bracers. And the last buckle I saw on a belt was when the Earl of Daldrommund, Viscount Septime, Baron of the Six Isles and Hereditary Count of Aquitaine — Percy “Bobbo” Gascoigne, —  took off his armor and chain mail during a picnic by Fossington Weir just behind the rectified lard factory. Old “Bobbo” was on for a bit, but I was more interested in his picnic basket of cucumber wrap and dumplings. I still shudder slightly whenever I see a man wearing a belt because it reminds me of that melancholy day. Neither his cucumber or his dumplings were to my liking. And certainly not his belt or buckle.

Thankfully, these sensitivities are not problematic issues here in the land of equal opportunity for the rich. Many honest citizens don’t possess belts. Or shoes. Although some policemen are very protective of their flip-flops. However, most of the threadbare and discalced know a fair bit about flooding. The most important thing in life is style. Forget the designer labels and find a tailor. And always dress down when assisting in flood areas. That way you will stand out from the indifferent and vulgar. They are often the ones wearing designer labels.
Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,
I’m 22, just finished college and have a morbid fascination with older women. I’m now dating a woman six years older than me and my mama can’t understand this. She said, “By the time you get married, Son, she’ll be too old to have kids.” Aunty, it’s not like I’m gonna marry her. I still don’t know where this is going.
Young Boy, Senayan

Dear Young Boy,
Alarm bells ring when a fellow mentions his girlfriend and his mother in the same sentence. Perhaps you can’t tell the two apart despite their age difference?

Whatever could possibly be morbid or unpleasant about dating a girl who is merely six years older than you? Why, I know fellows your age stepping out with women who are 20 or 30 more years older than themselves. Some of these party girls are incontinent, obese and both dentally and follicle-ly challenged — and neither they nor their boyfriends experience anything remotely “morbid” about their relationships, because they don’t care for ageist constraints or other people’s opinions. On the contrary, they are far too busy swinging from the chandeliers, tossing back the turps and having a good time, and aren’t concerned with anything approaching unpleasantness. When it comes to sexual attraction, nothing should surprise anyone. There are no “normal” rules — there is only the “usual,” and the two are not the same.

Stop being confused and anxious and enjoy your time with this girl. I say “time” because you obviously have an exit strategy as you have no desire to marry her. She will probably be quite happy to see the back of you when the time comes, as well. Let’s keep things equal.

As for your mother’s concerns: They are precisely that, her concerns, and therefore none of your business. Does that make the way clearer for you?
Aunty Mavis

While comments about readers problems can be posted online and are welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com

The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

Advice From Aunty Mavis: A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well educated and occasionally confused.

Dear Aunty Mavis,
Is it good manners to get up and dance in the aisle of the bus when the guitar boy gets on and starts playing? Sometimes I can barely control myself, but I am conscious of not wanting to disturb the other passengers.
Twinkle Toes, Sudirman.

Dear Twinkle Toes,
Not since Judy Garland started tapping her toe and singing “Clang, clang, clang went the trolley” has there been much dancing on buses, as far as I am aware, so you may be exploring unfamiliar territory here. You obviously have a sense of rhythm and motion which may be appreciated by your fellow travelers, especially if the bus has stopped in the middle of a peak hour traffic jam. But I advise caution. You may be done in by the Pornography Law. Although well intentioned, your gyrating hips and moving hands in such a crowded environment could be interpreted in a very different light to what you innocently intended.
Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,
I am a 29-year-old woman living on the outskirts of Jakarta. It takes me two hours commuting from home to work every morning. I want to live in a “Kost” somewhere near my office, but my parents (and grandparents) won’t let me. They say, living in a Kost is dangerous for a woman like me. They say Kosts are only for naughty women. But I can’t spend four hours of my day on the road! What should I do? How can I make my parents understand?
 “29,”  Lenteng Agung.

Dear 29,
A few months before my twenty-first birthday, my mother and father sat me down and said, “Mavis, soon you will be a young adult. We love you and are proud of you. But for your sake and ours, a month after you turn 21, we want you to move out of this house.” And a few weeks later I was living with two other girls in a flat, continuing my studies at university and working part-time as a waitress to pay the rent. Those words of my parents were the most treasured birthday present they could have given me.

Sooner or later “29,” everyone has to leave home — physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Alas, some people never do. Last week, I heard a 78-year-old woman say to her 80-year-old husband: “The problem with you is, you’re still frightened of your father. All your life you were frightened of him. And he’s been dead for 37-years! And you still are!”

At present “29,” you are spending fours hours traveling each day away from home to go to work. It seems to me the journey ahead of you is a much longer one, and may take years if you continue  allowing your parents and grandparents the right to walk all over you. Now you are stuck at home and get caught in traffic jams. They are stuck in the past and caught in a mental and cultural jam. They call this “respect” and “obedience.” I call it cultural bullying.

None of you are in an easy situation. I suggest you tell them that you love and respect them, but you need to take control of your own life — that’s the one they gave you as a gift when you were born.  It’s odd, isn’t it, that some parents give their child the gift of life and then take back what they gave.

Be firm. And don’t treat your daughter like this when she grows up.
Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,
There is a boy in our office who is very cute. I don’t think he has a girlfriend. He never talks about one. He’s about 24, looks like a male model, is always well-dressed and hums wonderful romantic songs by Barbra Streisand, Lady Gaga and Kylie Minogue. Is it permissible for me to ask him out for a date? Will he think me unlady-like?  
Aching Heart, Pluit.

Dear Aching Heart,
No, he won’t think you are unlady-like. He will think you are stupid. He’s gay. I suggest you go ahead and invite him out for dinner, but make sure you also ask him to bring a friend. That way he can bring his boyfriend if he has one. As a gay in Indonesia, he will no doubt appreciate your acceptance and support. Besides, gay people generally have very nice, broad-minded straight friends, and you will eventually meet up with them too — and you just might meet the man of your dreams amongst them.
Aunty Mavis

While comments about readers problems can be posted online and are welcome, Jakarta Globe’s readers can also send their personal questions concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com

The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.

Advice From Aunty Mavis

Aunty Mavis

Advice From Aunty Mavis: A guide to social etiquette and life’s mysteries for the cosmopolitan, well-educated and occasionally confused.

The Jakarta Globe is pleased to introduce our readers to Aunty Mavis, a veritable font of guidance and solace in these times of social confusion. Aunty Mavis brings to our pages her accumulated wisdom learned through years of experience and compassion for others. These traits have endowed her with an aggressive sense of humility coupled with belligerent self-effacement. And don’t we all aspire to be like that?

Dear Aunty Mavis,

How do I tell my parents that I don’t like skinny girls but simply adore fat girls? I fear they plan to arrange a marriage for me with a girl I won’t find attractive. I am losing sleep over this. I need your advice.

Desperate, Serpong

Dear Desperate,

This is a highly sensitive and culturally complex problem. Be assured you are not alone in this. Many chubby lovers have come to me for advice. There is a whole world out there of frightened people silently screaming, “Oh My God! My Parents Want Me To Marry This Woman/Man And I Don’t Want To But I Have To Because I Am Asian.” Sadly, but frankly, your situation comes under the heading of “Insoluble Problems.”

My advice is that you join the army as soon as possible and sign up for the course “How to Cross an Active Minefield” and apply some of the principles you learn there to your dilemma. Otherwise, look out the window and realize it’s 2012 and elsewhere in the free world adults don’t have their marriages arranged and destroyed by their parents. I suggest you choose whatever option requires the most courage and common sense.  

Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,

Should I be annoyed when I come back from the supermarket and find the biscuits I purchased are all broken?

Sisca, Depok

Dear Sisca,

No you should not be annoyed. You should be livid. Given that the purchase of biscuits involved a trip to the supermarket, a traffic jam, finding a parking lot, paying for the parking, being harassed by people wanting to sell you things you don’t want, loud music and insane  jingles, plus waiting at the checkout for 20 minutes before the clerk slowly deals with you – I think you have a right to be more than annoyed.

Broken biscuits are something akin to being laughed at by a trickster. Of course it’s useless taking them back and complaining, asking for a refund or a replacement packet (chances are they’ll be broken too). They will only smile at you until you walk away defeated. Laughing at you again.

The thing is to take revenge. Next time you visit the supermarket, fill your trolley with one of every packet of biscuit on offer and proceed gaily to the checkout. After they have been laboriously checked through, all at different prices, make a display of opening your purse and exclaim, “Oh silly me! I’ve left my credit card at home. Do forgive me.” Then sally forth feeling very superior and as if you need a cup of tea and a biscuit. Make sure you have enough cash in your purse to buy a packet. And make sure they are not broken before you leave.

Aunty Mavis

Dear Aunty Mavis,

I’m bored! Bali, Sao Paulo, Paris or New York for my holiday this year? Money is no object.

Jaded, Kuningan

Dear Jaded,

If you are that bored and need to ask, then you don’t need a holiday. Instead, you need to go to a bookshop and buy the book that says, “Men go abroad to wonder at the height of the mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the river, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars – and they pass themselves by without wondering.”  

I suggest you stay at home this year, alone in your room and get to know yourself.

However, if a ticket is in the offing, I wouldn’t mind a holiday in Vegas. Single stateroom with bath, Cunarder or P&O to San Francisco, First Class, and then drawing room on the train to Nevada. That is, seeing  money is no object for you. Besides, I’ve read the book and already profited from it. And I will  continue to do so.

Aunty Mavis  

The Jakarta Globe’s readers can send their questions concerning social etiquette and life’s unsolved mysteries to Aunty Mavis at this address: blogs@thejakartaglobe.com

The views expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of the Jakarta Globe.