Rebecca, Eggs, and The Faceless, Old Man (4)

There they were. The young-old man was about to be hung. But he didn’t have his face anymore. The friend already took his face back. To get someone else’s face, the young-old man had sacrificed his own face for good. “Do you think we should travel a little backward, when he, uh, you still have face?” asked Rebecca. The old man rolled his eyes. “Fine.” And zap! They were gone.

Rebecca and the old man saw a teenage version of the old man with his friend. A girl walked up to them. The three of them talked with each other. After a few minutes, the teenage old man walked away with the girl. The other boy stares as they leave. Rebecca realized the friend felt jealous. He was the third wheel.

“Wait. So, you actually can attract a girl. You’re not that bad for an average face. Then, why do you still have to steal faces when you can already attract a girl with that face?” said Rebecca to the old man.

“I guess I am not satisfied with just that one girl. Didn’t you see that the girl has average face, too? I want to level up so later I need to seek for prettier girl.”

“And when you find one, you become unsatisfied as well and then you look for more prettier girl and you never stop. But, pretty girls want face that meets their standard,” guessed Rebecca.

“Could be.”

“Oh, gosh,” Rebecca realized something. “Where did your teenage version go? We lose him!”

The two of them searched around. The old man looked under the table. Rebecca look inside the trash can. The old man turned to Rebecca.

“Really?” asked the old man. “You think I would hide in a trash can?”

“Well,” replied Rebecca. “You treat women like trash. So I assumed you would look in one to find one.”

“Why are you mad?”

“I'm not. I just don't agree with you. You just want a pretty face. There's more to a girl. She could be smart. She could be funny. But why can't be ugly or average looking?”

“That's just how girls treated me. So why can't I do the same?”

“Because a real girl won't do that.”

The old man and Rebecca continued searching in silence. The old man felt guilty.

“You know what,” said the old man. “It doesn’t matter anymore to find my real face. I deserve this. I’ll be living without face for the rest of my life and I promise I won’t steal any face again.”

“I keep your promise, but being faceless will scare the hell out of people. I am scared myself but I guess I get used to it by now.”

“So I guess people will get used to it, too.”

“Hell, no.”

“Well.”

“I really want to see you with your own face.”

“But I don’t like my own face, then and now, ever, even though I haven’t seen it for very long time. I still don’t like it. Shame on my parents who gave birth to me with a face like that.”

“Don’t you say that. You must be grateful with whatever you have.”

“It’s so painful. That old face will just remind me about all my sins, and sorrows, and regrets, all those wicked things that happen during my lifetime.”

Rebecca got silent. She was too young to understand all of the old man said. But she got an idea. “Hey, what if we get you a new face? A face that no one ever had before. I know someone who loves to draw a lot!”

“Uh oh, not that boy again.”

“Yes!”

Back at present time, Eggs laid on his bed scribbling notes in his notepad.

“There has to be a way to defeat him,” said Eggs. “What's his weakness? Hmm. Now that I think about it, he is obsessed with how he looks. Maybe I could torture him into releasing Rebecca and Mr. Trip. Actually, he could keep Mr. Trip. Life is better without him. But to get Rebecca back, I could call him ugly. Or maybe hire a group of girls to laugh at him and walk away. Hmmm…”

Zap! Suddenly Rebecca and the old, faceless man appeared in front of Eggs.

“I heard all what you’ve just said,” said the old man to Eggs.

“Uh-oh,” said Eggs. “Never mind that. Eh, but, which one do you prefer?”

“Eggs, you have to give the old man a new face!” said Rebecca.

“That’s much better!” Eggs cheered.

“No! He will give me the ugliest face ever,” the old man scorned.

“Well, we can let someone else decides for us. Someone who doesn’t know you,” said Rebecca to the old man. Somehow, Theresa came into her mind. Rebecca did miss her mother. But, did her mother know the old man? “I guess that will be fair enough?”

Both the old, faceless man and Eggs thought for a while.

“Well, let’s get things done!”

“Yeah!”

“I know the answer!” said Eggs.

“What face should I take?” asked the old man.

“My face”

Rebecca and the old man were both shocked.

“Why?!” asked the old man.

“I need a successor,” replied Eggs.

“In what? Aren't you younger than me? If anything, you should be my successor.”

“I’m going away to train in a secret location and I need someone to do my homework for me while I'm gone.”

“Fine, but I get to sleep in your room for free.”

Rebecca butts in.

“Wait,” cried Rebecca. “This is stupid. What happens when you return?”

“I don't know,” said Eggs. “We'll worry about that later.”

Poof. The old man took Eggs’ face. 

To be continued ...?

This is the second story I wrote with Sam Pham, someone I met on Bottled. He initiated the first paragraph, as before.

Well, my bad, I don't know how to continue this and he doesn't have a clue as well. We've been working on this for too long, and now he's just got both a new job and a new, sexy Brazilian girlfriend(!?). So, I guess we will just leave it as it is, or ... do you have any idea as to help us end this story?

Rebecca, Eggs, and The Faceless, Old Man (3)

Meanwhile in another world, Rebecca met Mr. Trip. And the old man with face. “You really have face!” Rebecca was amazed. He looked exactly like the old Alain Delon. “So, the words are true. No wonder a lot of ladies went crazy about you and the witch took your face.”

Rebecca then realized that the old man could have stolen Alain Delon’s face. She realized that the old man is old. He could have been alive since dinosaurs roamed the land. She wondered if there was a reason for the old man wanting to steal people's faces. So she asked the old man and found out the truth. The old man was very much in love with the witch. They were going to run away and get married. However, the witch's mother cast a spell on the old man so that he could never see or kiss her daughter again. She told him that she put his face on a random person and that the only way to get it back was to steal it back. It could be a man or woman. The old man had been searching for his face again because he believed that the witch that he loves will only love him if he had his handsome face again.

But he had stolen many faces that he forgot how his original face looked like. He didn’t remember exactly how the shapes of his eyes, nose, lips, et cetera. All he could remember was just he had always been actually an average person. “There’s nothing special about me. Neither my face, nor my personality. You can see me once, and you won’t remember anything about me when you see me again by the next chance. And when I found someone that I love, I thought that I must stand out so she would not forgive me, so I would always be in her mind and her heart. And, indeed, that worked. She loved me for my face because I stole the face of the most handsome man in the world at that time,” the old man explained with a grim, somber voice. “I was thinking to steal Mr. Trip’s face initially, but it turned out that his face didn’t fit me right.”

“What the-- Wait, does it mean that I am handsome?” Mr. Trip stroked his face and searched for something he could reflect.

“Please don’t think that way,” said Rebecca to the old man. “I believe that each individual has something unique and special. You just haven’t found it yet.”

The old man laughed sarcastically. “Kid, you haven’t lived long enough. The world doesn’t work that way.”

“Or, maybe someday you would find someone that would love you for the way you are, so you don’t have to steal faces any more. You just have to wait, and keep looking for her?” Rebecca persisted.

“Or you just need to lower your standard,” added Mr. Trip, who just found a mudhole and began to think that he was truly handsome, “and find an average-looking lady.”

“Sometimes you just need to have faith,” Rebecca mumbled.

Eggs showed up. Eggs said, “You're going down faceless man. I'm about to send everyone's faces back to them.” Eggs poured a solution from a beaker into his mouth. His belly got big and round, and his hair fell off. He jumped to the old man and bounced the old man back using his belly.

“Not the belly bounce,” cried the old man.

“I'm invincible with my belly,” explained Eggs. “With my belly size, I created the ultimate attack and defense. You can't get close enough to me to steal my face while I can attack you.”

“You're a smart kid. But that's all you are still. A kid. You're a few hundred years too young to be facing me.”

“Really? There's no way you can beat me.”

The old man took his cane out. He swept Eggs’ legs. Eggs fell down. Eggs wobbled on the floor.

“Looks like you can't get back up,” said the old man.

The old man walked to Eggs face and said, “Hmm, it's funny. If I steal your face, you'll look like an egg.”

“Stop,” cried Rebecca. “That isn't your face. I'll help you find your face if you let him go.”

Tears fell down Rebecca's face. The old man started at Rebecca and stepped away from Eggs.

“Sorry,” apologized the old man. “Let's go then, Rebecca.”

Rebecca and the old man time-travelled to the age when the old man was born. Everyone was walking or riding a horse. People lived in huts. “What are we going to do here?” asked Rebecca. “We’re looking for the young-me,” said the old man.

“Okay, how does he look like?”

“Well, remember, I forget, because my face is so average and yadda yadda yadda.”

“Ugh, okay. Well, maybe we can find someone who can recognize your face. Maybe your family.”

“They’re also average.”

“You can’t forget your family’s faces!”

“They look just like me.”

“Maybe your handsome friend.”

“It’s the first face I stole.”

“Let’s go find him!”

Rebecca and the old man searched around. They asked the townspeople and bar keepers if any of them saw a really handsome guy. Everyone said no. Then Rebecca and the old man saw a poster for a witch hanging at noon.

“What's a witch hanging?” asked Rebecca.

“Ummm,” replied the old man nervously. “It is something that we should avoid.”

“How come? It sounds like a place where we can hang out with other witches.”

“Not quite. It's where they hang witches and burn them to death. Witches and wizards were not really accepted here in the past.”

“Let's go back to the future. I don't like this. My whole life I thought witches and wizards were normal.”

The old man grabbed a newspaper and looked at the date. The old man said, “I don't think we should leave. Actually, if I remember correctly, I'm the one being hung by my friend. That's when I decided to steal his face and trick everyone into thinking he was the wizard.”

Rebecca said, “Even friendships were weird in the past.”

The old man and Rebecca decided to go to the hanging. 

To be continued ....

This is the second story I wrote with Sam Pham, someone I met on Bottled. He initiated the first paragraph, as before.

Rebecca, Eggs, and The Faceless, Old Man (2)

For a moment, Rebecca did just nothing. She waited until it was almost dark, but nothing happened anymore. She stretched her arms and shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I guess I’ll just go home now.” She took her belongings and left the room.

On the way home, Rebecca saw Mr. Trip lying on the sidewalk on his stomach. Rebecca rushed over to Mr. Trip. She turned his body over and quickly backed away. Mr. Trip lost his face. Rebecca ran straight home. When she made it home, she slammed the front door and locked it. Rebecca's mom, Theresa, walked to Rebecca.

“What's the matter, baby? Hurry and change. We have a guest,” said Theresa.

“Who?” asked Rebecca.

“Your teacher, Mr. Trip, of course.” answered Theresa.

Rebecca's face froze.

“I am sorry, Mom. I don’t feel well. I guess I need to take a rest. Say my greetings to Mr. Trip. Uhuk, uhuk,” Rebecca made false cough and got silent.

“Are you fine, baby? Should we bring you to the doctor?” Theresa sounded worried.

“I am okay, Mom. I just need some sleep.”

“All right. Sleep well, then.”

She heard her mother’s footsteps backing away. But her heart kept pounding hard. Her back felt cold.

Rebecca tossed and turned in her bed. Someone opened her door. She saw her mom. Her mom tucked her in tight. She pats Rebecca on her head.

“Thanks, mom.” said Rebecca.

“Who said I'm your mom?” said Theresa's mouth with an old man's voice.

Rebecca woke up in sweat.

She fell back into sleep even though nightmares kept haunting her afterward. The next morning, she convinced herself that all was just a dream. Everything was going to be fine. She went to the witch academy. Everything went as usual, just as she thought, so far, except for she didn’t see Eggs. Maybe he was sick, Rebecca thought. By the end of the day, while other students were making their ways out of the class and Rebecca was still putting her books and stationary into her bag, someone approached her. She looked up and she saw that Mr. Trip was smiling at her. “Good to see you, Rebecca. You look very well today. Yesterday I went to your house and ….” Rebecca jumped out of out her seat and ran. “Rebecca, we need to talk!” She heard Mr. Trip called out but she kept running away.

Now that she thought about it, she kind of wanted to know what Mr. Trip had to say, if she could even call him that. She stood still and looked back. She saw Mr. Trip advancing towards her. She couldn't do it. She ran away again.

“Stupid Eggs never taught me how to use my broom,” cried Rebecca. Mr. Trip was gaining in her. She was running out of time.

Out of nowhere came Eggs flying with broom. He caught Rebecca by her arm. “Oh, gosh, you’re heavy,” and he almost fell. But Rebecca managed to pull herself and sat behind Eggs.

“Eggs,” said Rebecca. “I thought you only knew how to fly a vacuum cleaner.”

“Uh oh,” cried Eggs. “Why did you have to remind me.”

The two of them flew into the wall. Eggs pulled out a bottle. He threw it at the ground. Smoke filled the air. Eggs grabbed Rebecca's hand and rushed out.

Rebecca sat down on Eggs bed. Eggs bring her a glass of orange juice. Rebecca played with her hair while Eggs searched through his books.

“I found a book on the faceless man,” said Eggs.

“Good, but why do you want to stop him?” asked Rebecca.

“I don't care about stopping him,” answered Eggs. “I just want to give Mr. Trip his face back so I can give him a black eye.”

“Oh my gosh,” said Rebecca.

“Found it,” said Eggs.

Eggs sat down next to Rebecca and opened the book. Rebecca's face turned red.

“Have you got fever or something?” Eggs noticed. “I gave you a glass of orange, not bitroot nor tomato.”

“I need to go to the bathroom,” said Rebecca. She rushed.

In the bathroom she washed her face to cool down. When she looked at the mirror, she only saw eyes. Some parts of her face were gone. She couldn’t even scream because her mouth wasn’t there. She must hurry before she lose her eyes and can't make her way back to Eggs’ room. But she stumbled and then it’s too late. She couldn’t see anything any more.

Rebecca knocked on the wall. Eggs heard the sound and asked, “Are you okay?” He waited for a reply, but heard nothing. Rebecca wanted to cry but she did not have eyes to cry tears. She was stuck in a sticky situation. She didn't know what to do. She didn't want to move because there could be sharp objects lying around.

Eggs began to wonder why Rebecca took so long in the bathroom. He knocked the bathroom door several times. “Are you having diarrhea or something?” but he didn't hear any answer. He got bad premonition.

“Should I open the door?” asked Eggs. “Nah. She is probably pooping. Wait, but I don't smell anything. She is probably changing clothes. Wait, she doesn't have an extra pair of clothes.”

The sound of glass breaking came from the bathroom. The bathroom door opened. Rebecca popped her head out.

“Sorry, I tried opening the window and accidently broke it,” explained Rebecca.

“Here, let me clean it up,” said Eggs.

“That's okay. My mess, my responsibility.”

Rebecca closed the door. An unconscious Rebecca with no face lied on the bathroom floor. The other Rebecca smiles. 

To be continued ....

This is the story I wrote with Sam Pham, someone I met on Bottled. He initiated the first paragraph, as before.

Rebecca, Eggs, and The Faceless, Old Man (1)

Rebecca searched her room. She checked under the bed. She looked inside her closet. She was panicking. She cried, “Where's my broom? I'm going to be late to witch academy.” Rebecca grabbed her spellbook and rushed out of her house.

When she opened the front door, she wished that she wouldn’t meet the old man with no face along her way to the academy. She used to hush the old man away with her broom. She knew that it was not polite. But the man’s no-face scared the hell out of her. She didn’t even know whether the old man was still alive or it was just the zombie of him. Life was full of scary things.

The story behind the man with no face was that he once loved a witch. They spent everyday together and were very much in love. However, the man was caught kissing another lady. And so, the witch decided to take away the man's face so he could never look at or kiss another lady.

There was only one road Rebecca could take now and she saw the old-man-with-no-face was standing down the road. She sighed. As she walked, the man approached her and reached out his hand. She was about to raise her broom to shoo him away but suddenly came a blue spark from the man’s hand. She was so frightened.

The man said, “I can make you a better witch. Just shake my hand, and you'll be stronger than ever.” Rebecca ran past the man. Her mom always told her to never talk to strangers. Rebecca made it to her classroom. She walked in the classroom and the bell rang. Rebecca yelled, “I made it on time!” Mr. Trip looked at Rebecca. The students got up and exited the classroom. Mr. Trip said, “Class just ended. You have detention after class. You too, Eggs.” Eggs replied, “Another boring day.”

“Hi, see you again, Eggs,” said Rebecca, smiling politely.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eggs replied, passing her swiftly. His voice had never sounded so cold. She didn’t understand what she’d done to him, but she would by the time they got in the detention room. She knew she must keep very still while she waited. As soon as she walked into the room, she took a deep breath and said to Eggs, “I saw the old, faceless man. And he talked to me to shake his hand.”

“Wait, you actually saw his face?” asked Eggs.

Rebecca nodded her head.

“Well, if he doesn't have a face, how could you see it?” asked Eggs. “And how could he talk without a mouth?!”

Eggs moved to another desk far from Rebecca. Rebecca sat there with a blank look on her face. She didn't know how the man talked to her. Rebecca waved her pointer finger around at Eggs.

Eggs looks at Rebecca and asked, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” replied Rebecca after realizing her magic was too weak.

Rebecca had spent many years in the witch academy but she didn’t seem to learn anything. She wasn’t even able to fly her broom. Had she known how, she wouldn’t be late this morning because flying was always faster than running. Outside the academy, her broom was useful only for cleaning her bedroom and hush the faceless old man.

“Hey, Eggs,” Rebecca broke the silence.

“What?” Eggs seemed bothered.

“Can you teach me how to ride a broom after this?”

“Nope. I only ride vacuum cleaner,” Eggs snapped.

“Please,” cried Rebecca. “Pretty please?”

Rebecca made a puppy dog face. Guilt filled Eggs’ face.

“Fine,” answered Eggs. “I'll help you.”

Eggs scribbled on a sheet of paper and gave it to Rebecca.

“Meet me in the courtyard after detention,” read Rebecca.

“Don't read it out loud,” cried Eggs.

“It's not a love note or anything,” replied Rebecca. “And you don’t even need to write it on the paper. There are just the two of us in this room. Why don’t you just say it.”

They didn’t realize that Mr. Trip was standing at the door the entire time and listening to their conversation. He cleared his throat and they both turned their head, taken aback. “Really, Rebecca, you don’t know how to ride a broom?” said Mr. Trip. Rebecca grinned to him. “I knew that there’s something wrong with this education system,” he sighed while mumbling to himself before coming to them. “Well, let’s go to the courtyard. Eggs, you teach Rebecca until she can do sprint-flying around the courtyard for 12 minutes and I’ll be watching over you two.”

But then something strange happened in the detention room. An explosion came from out of nowhere. Smoke filled the room. No one knew what was going on until Eggs said, “Sorry, my beakers spilled into each other and caused a chemical reaction. Mr. Trip, clean up in aisle four.” Mr. Trip got angry and shot a green lightning bolt at Eggs. Eggs flew back. “Teachers give orders. Not you,” said Mr. Trip.

Rebecca stared at them without blinking. When did Eggs do something with his beakers? As far as she was concerned, they got into the detention room together and sat straightaway. She didn’t see Eggs hold any breaker. And she even had no idea that there were breakers in the detention room. She felt sorry for herself that she always missed things. And Eggs must be very good at magic that he could do something without her realizing it.

Rebecca turned her look to the window and she screamed. The old man with-no-face was there! Mr. Trip shot a lightning bolt from his hand towards the old man. The old man dodged and teleported in front of Mr. Trip. The old man swept Mr. Trips foot and Mr. Trip fell down. He held onto Mr. Trip and teleported both of them away. Rebecca screamed. She didn't know what to do. She looked for Eggs, but he was gone too. 

To be continued ....

This is the second story I wrote with Sam Pham, someone I met on Bottled. He initiated the first paragraph, as before.

Pengalaman Menggunakan Pembalut Kain Buatan Sendiri

PERINGATAN: Konten entri ini sangat kewanitaan sekali dan mungkin cukup menjijikkan bagi sebagian orang.

Video ini bisa menjelaskan salah satu alasan untuk beralih ke pembalut kain.

Di samping dampak lingkungan dari pembalut pabrikan yang lazim digunakan, salah satu pendorong saya untuk mencoba pembalut kain adalah buku The Moneyless Man. Buku ini memberi gagasan gila akan hidup tanpa uang yang bagi saya justru menarik. Memang agaknya mustahil hidup 100% tanpa uang. Meski begitu, mengurangi ketergantungan terhadap uang sepertinya ide bagus.

Ketika sedang memikirkan kebutuhan apakah yang mau tidak mau mesti dipenuhi dengan uang, serta-merta pembalut timbul dalam benak saya. Karena Mark Boyle (penulis The Moneyless Man) laki-laki, maka pembalut tidak muncul dalam buku tentang pengalamannya hidup setahun tanpa uang itu.

Lalu entah bagaimana ide tentang pembalut kain itu muncul. Barangkali saya pernah membaca atau mendengarnya dari sesuatu. Maka saya mencari tahu tentang cara membuat pembalut sendiri.

Mengikuti petunjuk dari artikel ini (tautan tersemat), saya bereksperimen membuat pembalut sendiri dengan menggunakan pembalut pabrikan, karton, dan spidol besar untuk membuat cetakan, kemudian kain bekas (celana, handuk, dan perca), jarum, benang, dan gunting untuk membuat pembalut. Waktu itu saya belum bisa menggunakan mesin jahit, sehingga pembalut dijahit secara manual. Saya menjahit kurang lebih tiap akhir pekan selama berbulan-bulan untuk menghasilkan cukup stok. Selain membuat ukuran reguler, saya juga membuat ukuran maksi yang panjang sampai ke belakang.

Hasil menjahit pembalut sendiri.

Dibandingkan dengan petunjuk dalam artikel terselip, ada modifikasi yang saya lakukan. Saya memasukkan pad ke luaran, kemudian saya jahit tengahnya dari ujung ke ujung untuk menyatukan keduanya. Memang proses ini cukup susah, apalagi kalau bagian pad diisi oleh kain perca alih-alih potongan handuk. Jarum besar yang saya gunakan sampai bengkok. Meskipun begitu, pada akhirnya versi ini yang lebih sering saya gunakan karena lebih praktis. Versi asli saya gunakan kalau versi modifikasi sudah habis saja.

Ketika saya sudah bisa menggunakan mesin jahit, barulah hasil jahitan tangan yang benangnya sudah mulai lepas atau kurang rekat itu saya jahit ulang supaya kuat.

Karena saya belum kunjung bergairah untuk belajar memasang kancing, saya menggunakan peniti besar untuk menyatukan bagian sayap. Ide peniti besar ini kalau tidak salah datang dari ibu saya. Sebelum mulai menjahit pembalut, saya berkonsultasi lebih dulu pada ibu saya mengenai cara menjahit dan desain pembalut. Ibu saya mengalami masa ketika pembalut pabrikan belum menjadi tren dan rupanya ada berbagai cara untuk mengakali pembalut pada waktu itu. Memang mengaitkan peniti besar ke kedua sayap merupakan tantangan tersendiri yang kalau tidak hati-hati bisa-bisa jari tercoblos. Penyimpanan peniti juga perlu diperhatikan supaya tidak cepat berkarat.

Selain itu, sejak sebelum beralih ke pembalut kain buatan sendiri, saya sudah menggunakan celana dalam dobel tiap kali haid, untuk menjaga posisi pembalut. Biasanya celana dalam yang dipasangi pembalut itu celana dalam lama yang sudah longgar, sedangkan celana dalam bagian luar yang menjadi pengaman itu celana dalam rada baru yang masih agak ketat.

Awal menggunakan pembalut kain ini bisa dibilang tidak menyenangkan. Ketika menggunakan pembalut pabrikan, darah biasanya merembes ke samping, belakang, atau depan jika sudah tidak tertampung atau salah posisi. Tetapi dengan pembalut kain, darah merembes ke bawah .... Mau tidak mau saya mesti sering mengecek dan mengganti pembalut.

Tetapi kemudian saya menemukan solusi: saya menggunakan dua pad sekaligus. Jadi di bawah pembalut yang bersayap saya letakkan pad lagi. Cara ini terbukti awet. Saya tidak harus sering-sering mengganti pembalut. Memang ketika duduk rasanya ada yang berjendul. Malah sebenarnya rasanya seperti pakai popok. Celana dalam pun menjadi longgar. Tetapi sejauh ini saya betah.

Membersihkan pembalut kain merupakan tantangan lainnya. Prosesnya terdiri dari beberapa tahap:

1. Di atas kloset aliri pembalut dengan air sembari diperas-peras untuk mengeluarkan darah. Lakukan ini sampai air perasan (agak) bening. Untuk menghemat air, alirkan sedikit-sedikit saja, yang penting membasahi pembalut sampai bisa diperas.
2. Bersihkan sisa darah pada permukaan pembalut dengan sabun mandi cair. Sabun mandi biasanya lebih efektif membersihkan darah daripada detergen. Sikat yang saya gunakan yaitu sikat gigi bekas.
3. Masukkan pembalut ke ember kecil bertutup. Beri air dan detergen. Rendam sampai giliran ganti pembalut berikutnya (: berjam-jam).
4. Bilas pembalut tiga kali, atau sampai bersih dari detergen.
5. Jemur pembalut. Biasanya saya menjemur pembalut sampai berhari-hari, seminggu, bahkan lebih. Jadi bisa dibilang ini pembalut "sekali pakai", yang baru dipakai lagi pada giliran haid berikutnya. Saya menjemur pembalut selama mungkin untuk memastikan bagian dalamnya yang bulky itu benar-benar kering.

Saya akui bahwa penggunaan pembalut kain bikinan sendiri, termasuk proses pembersihan dan penjemurannya, cukup nyaman bagi saya karena faktor-faktor seperti:

• Ada banyak waktu untuk menjahit pembalut sendiri.

Kalau tidak memiliki banyak waktu untuk menjahit, sekarang ini sepertinya sudah banyak penjual yang menawarkan pembalut kain, yang mestilah lebih cantik dan lebih rapi daripada buatan sendiri. Bisa jadi pula mereka menggunakan bahan yang lebih aman atau lebih baik dalam menyerap darah.

• Tidak ada aktivitas luaruang yang mengikat.

Seandainya saya mesti beraktivitas di luar rumah setiap hari selama seharian, pemakaian pembalut semacam ini bisa jadi menyusahkan--apalagi ketika darah sedang banyak-banyaknya. Bisa saja pembalut dibungkus dulu dengan plastik baru dibersihkan di rumah. Plastiknya ikut dicuci dan digunakan lagi, supaya zero waste. Kalau cara begitu tidak preferable, bolehlah pembalut ini dicoba ketika darah sudah sedikit atau tinggal sisa.

• Ada air.

Penggunaan pembalut kain tentu saja membutuhkan banyak air untuk membersihkannya. Biasanya saya menyiapkan satu baskom besar air sebelum mengganti pembalut, dan berusaha untuk menggunakannya dengan seirit mungkin. Air hujan bisa ditampung dan dimanfaatkan untuk keperluan ini. 

• Ada banyak waktu untuk membersihkan pembalut.

Ketika darah sedang banyak-banyaknya, proses pembersihan ini bisa hampir satu jam, mungkin karena saya mengerjakannya dengan santai juga dan ketika capek saya diam dulu sambil melamun. Ketika darah sudah sedikit, tentu saja waktu dan air yang dihabiskan bisa jauh lebih sedikit.

• Ada kloset duduk.

Bisa dibilang ketersediaan kloset duduk sangat mendukung penggunaan pembalut semacam ini. Membersihkan pembalut yang memakan waktu cukup lama tentu lebih nyaman dilakukan sembari duduk ketimbang jongkok. Saya tahu rasanya mengalami kebas kaki ketika jongkok terlalu lama di kloset akibat mulas yang seakan-akan tiada henti.

• Tempat jemuran tertutup.

Sebagian rumah mungkin tidak memiliki tempat jemuran yang tertutup. Boleh jadi akan memalukan jika jemuran yang jelas-jelas berbentuk pembalut pabrikan tetapi versi kain terlihat oleh tetangga.

Di samping faktor-faktor pendukung tersebut, ada beberapa hal lain yang menguatkan untuk terus menggunakan pembalut kain.

Kesadaran bahwa saya bisa menghemat uang, dengan menjahit sendiri pembalut saya menggunakan alat dan bahan yang tersedia secara cuma-cuma di rumah, membangkitkan perasaan swadaya dalam diri saya. Setelah ini mau bikin apa lagi? Boleh jadi dalam berkebun saya masih gagal, tetapi dalam hal ini saya berhasil. Saya telah menggunakan pembalut ini setiap bulan selama sekitar dua-tiga tahun, meskipun adakalanya saya kembali pada pembalut pabrikan karena keadaan tertentu (misalnya mesti bepergian jarak jauh atau dalam waktu lama saat haid sedang deras-derasnya). Pembalut kain buatan sendiri seperti titik pangkal keswadayaan, pelepasan diri dari ketergantungan terhadap uang.

Selain itu, selesai membersihkan pembalut, saya dapat keluar dari kamar mandi dengan perasaan puas atau lega karena saya tidak akan menambah sampah. Apakah pembalut pabrikan memang lebih higienis daripada pembalut kain? Bagaimana dengan limbah yang dihasilkan selama proses produksi dan distribusinya? Belum lagi setelah kita selesai memakainya, pembalut itu menjadi kotoran baru yang menumpuk di tempat pembuangan. Apakah itu higienis bagi lingkungan? Bukankah kita ini hidup dalam lingkungan?

Ketika googling, sekarang ini semakin banyak petunjuk tentang cara membuat pembalut sendiri, baik dalam bahasa Indonesia apalagi dalam bahasa Inggris. Belum lagi iklan yang menjualnya, bagi yang tidak sempat membuatnya sendiri. Hasil penelusuran ini seperti menyiratkan bahwa ketertarikan masyarakat untuk beralih ke pembalut kain mulai meninggi, entah karena alasan lingkungan, kesehatan, atau keiritan. Karena tahu bahwa saya tidak sendirian dalam menggunakan cara ini, maka saya pikir kenapa tidak?

Saya akui bahwa saya belum membaca banyak tentang seluk-beluk haid. Cuma pikiran sederhana saja didukung hasil bertanya sana-sini: pembalut pabrikan baru diproduksi sekitar seabad belakangan, dan selama sekian ribu tahun sejarah manusia, dengan apa perempuan menyumpal darah haidnya? Jika perempuan dulu yang mungkin hanya menggunakan kain untuk mengatasi haid bisa tetap memiliki banyak anak daripada perempuan sekarang yang rata-rata memakai pembalut pabrikan tetapi punya lebih sedikit anak, maka apakah pengaruhnya bahan pembalut terhadap kesehatan reproduksi? Pertanyaan-pertanyaan semacam itu mengiringi saya dalam polemik(?) penggunaan pembalut kain buatan sendiri, yang mudah-mudahan saya dapati jawabannya kelak. Sementara ini, begini dulu yang dapat saya bagi.

Memikirkan Salah Satu Kasus Kanibalisme untuk Bertahan Hidup

Subuh ini saya membaca artikel Wikipedia berjudul "R v Dudley and Stephens". Artikel ini menceritakan tentang kasus kanibalisme yang dilakukan oleh para awak kapal Inggris Mignonette pada 1883 terhadap seorang rekan mereka. Kapal itu tenggelam, dan sementara terapung-apung dalam sekoci di lautan yang jauh dari daratan, dalam keadaan sulit mendapatkan baik makanan maupun minuman, timbul perundingan untuk mengorbankan salah seorang di antara mereka untuk menghidupi yang lain.

Awak kapal itu terdiri dari empat orang: Dudley, Stephens, Brooks, dan Parker. Brooks menolak untuk melakukan pengundian mengenai siapa yang akan dibunuh sementara Parker kemungkinan sedang dalam keadaan koma atau sekarat setelah meminum air laut. Parker merupakan yang termuda di antara mereka, baru berusia tujuh belas tahun, yatim piatu, dan belum berpengalaman dalam melaut. Selain itu, ia juga belum punya istri dan anak. Keadaan Parker yang demikian menguatkan mereka untuk membunuh dia.

Ketiga awak tersebut kemudian diselamatkan oleh kapal lain. Namun mereka kemudian harus menjalani persidangan atas kasus kanibalisme itu.

Ini bukan kasus bertahan-hidup-dengan-kanibalisme pertama yang saya baca. Kisah lain yang saya ingat adalah kecelakaan pesawat terbang di Andes. Sungguh berat jika mesti memikirkan kisah semacam ini apalagi membayangkan jika diri sendiri yang berada dalam keadaan demikian. Saya bisa memahami keputusasaan yang mestilah mereka rasakan beserta dilema yang dihadapi. 

Keadaan Parker yang kemungkinan sedang koma atau sekarat sehingga cepat-lambat akan mati juga seolah-olah menguatkan mereka untuk mengatasi rasa lapar yang tak tertanggungkan lagi. Dalam artikel itu disebutkan bahwa Dudley berdoa dulu sebelum memutus urat leher Parker, yang mengingatkan pada petugas kurban pada kambing atau sapi saat Idul Adha. Orang-orang yang selamat dalam kecelakaan pesawat di Andes itu juga merupakan orang-orang religius yang sebenarnya merasa enggan memakan bangkai saudara sendiri ... yang tidak bisa serta-merta disetarakan dengan bergunjing, sepertinya. Wallahualam sekiranya di neraka orang-orang yang semasa hidupnya senang bergunjing benar-benar dipaksa untuk memakan bangkai manusia.

Memang dua kasus itu tidak bisa serta merta dibandingkan. Dalam kasus yang pertama, mereka sengaja membunuh, sedangkan dalam kasus yang kedua, mereka memakan korban yang sudah menjadi bangkai. Untuk kasus pertama, entahlah bagaimana sekiranya mereka dapat bersabar menunggu sampai Parker meninggal betulan. Setidaknya di samping memakan sesama manusia, mereka tidak terbebani oleh konsekuensi dari membunuh. 

Untuk mengenang Richard Parker.

Saya merasa tidak dapat memberikan penilaian atas perbuatan mereka. Jika saya yang--amit-amit, naudzubillahimindzalik--berada dalam keadaan itu, saya mungkin akan seperti Brooks pada awalnya, yang menolak untuk merundingkan pengorbanan salah seorang dari mereka itu. Kemudiannya entah apakah setelah kedua rekan saya membunuh korban, saya malah ikut-ikutan melahapnya bak serigala lapar seperti yang katanya Brooks lakukan. Atau, sementara mereka makan kemungkinan saya akan duduk saja di ujung sekoci meratapi nasib dan menunggu keajaiban terjadi, atau menjadi korban berikutnya karena saya sudah terlalu lemah untuk apa pun. 

Saya merasa kisah ini memberikan pelajaran yang mendalam akan keputusasaan yang sebenarnya. Untuk hal kecil saja yang boleh jadi hanya ada dalam benak, belum tentu saya dapat bersabar apalagi jika dijebloskan dalam keadaan serupa itu.

Ide menulis diambil dari 365 Days of Writing Prompts (oleh The Editors WordPress.com, hak cipta © 2013 oleh The Daily Post) tanggal 23 Januari. 

Keterampilan yang Ingin Saya Miliki (untuk Sekarang Ini)

Kalau saya bisa menjadi ahli dalam suatu keterampilan, maka keterampilan yang saya pilih adalah--untuk sekarang ini: berkebun dan menjahit. Berkebun dan menjahit merupakan keterampilan yang diperlukan untuk mencukupi kebutuhan hidup mendasar berupa pangan dan sandang. Tentu keduanya hanya mungkin jika memiliki lahan dan mesin jahit (atau setidaknya jarum dan benang). Alhamdulillah, untuk berkebun, saya punya halaman yang cukup luas dan beberapa balkon di rumah yang bisa dioptimalkan untuk bercocok tanam, sedangkan untuk menjahit, saya punya mesinnya beserta tumpukan baju rusak dan bekas. Karena itu, selagi ada dan sebetulnya bisa, sebagai bentuk syukur, saya ingin bisa memanfaatkan semua itu sekalian memenuhi tujuan praktis (: mencukupi kebutuhan hidup) dan idealis (: membina gaya hidup swadaya sekalian ramah lingkungan).

Awalnya, saya berpikir-pikir, seandainya saya mesti berwirausaha, maka jenis wirausaha apakah yang dalam rantai produksi, distribusi, dan konsumsinya ramah lingkungan? Seketika muncul jawaban bahwa salah satu contohnya adalah pertanian organik. Sepertinya terlalu megah mengkhayalkan menjadi pemilik pertanian organik, karena itu, untuk realistisnya, sebaiknya saya mulai dari berkebun kecil-kecilan di rumah.

Adapun untuk mesin jahit, saya ingin berfokus pada permak dan daur ulang baju rusak atau bekas. Kalau bisa, saya tidak hendak membeli kain atau baju baru karena tidak bisa memastikan apakah rantai produksinya merusak alam atau tidak. Kita tahu limbah tekstil merupakan salah satu limbah berbahaya, dan saya khawatir limbah dari baju yang saya kenakan termasuk yang mematikan ekosistem Sungai Citarum. Selain itu, ada teman saya sendiri yang merupakan pekerja dari semacam pabrik rodi penghasil produk tekstil. Ia bekerja lebih lama daripada pegawai kantor dalam sehari, namun upahnya mengenaskan. Mengenai ini, ada tayangan dokumenter menarik tentang realita di balik industri tekstil.

Kalau tidak bisa, karena saya memang tidak punya banyak uang, terpaksa saya beli seperlunya saja kebutuhan saya di Car Free Day Buah Batu atau mana pun yang harganya dibanting sangat murah. Saya tidak bisa memungkiri bahwa pada dasarnya saya hanya makhluk ekonomi yang berhasrat memiliki dengan pengorbanan sesedikit mungkin.

(Sementara itu, sembari menulis ini, saya menyadari bahwa mesin jahit yang saya miliki membutuhkan daya listrik agar dapat dioperasikan. Tetapi, menggantinya dengan mesin jahit manual pun rasanya keterlaluan. Kecuali karena suatu keadaan saya tidak bisa memanfaatkan mesin jahit listrik itu lagi sehingga saya mesti memiliki mesin jahit yang lain, maka kuatkah iman saya untuk menggunakan yang manual saja?)

Tetapi, walaupun saya sudah memiliki fasilitas dan hendak memulai secara kecil-kecilan dulu, rasanya sulit karena itu bukan passion  saya. Maksudnya, selama ini saya merasa telah memiliki passion dalam suatu hal. Saya tahu rasanya memiliki passion yang menjadi tenaga saya untuk berkarya. Dengan passion, saya bisa memprioritaskan suatu hal di atas hal lain dan memikirkannya terus sehingga menghasilkan banyak ide. Tetapi, untuk berkebun dan menjahit, saya tidak merasakannya. Karena itu, saya ingin dalam kedua hal tersebut saya bisa memiliki nafsu yang sama seperti yang saya alami terhadap hal lain yang saya anggap sebagai passion itu.

Ide menulis diambil dari 365 Days of Writing Prompts (oleh The Editors WordPress.com, hak cipta © 2013 oleh The Daily Post) tanggal 22 Januari.

Kesan dan Pesan (?) Menonton Milly & Mamet

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Sebenarnya teman yang mengajak menonton juga enggak begitu ngebet dengan film ini. Kami sama-sama bukan fans AADC. Di antara dua pilihan yang dia sodorkan--How to Train Your Dragon 2 dst dan Milly & Mamet--saya memilih yang kedua. Enggak begitu ingat juga kalau ternyata saya pernah mengusulkan yang kedua itu, karena ketika dia mengajak menonton untuk pertama kali judul tersebut satu-satunya film yang sedang tayang di bioskop yang saya tahu. Memang saya telah membaca ulasannya di Kompas.

Kisah keluarga muda itu menarik, ya, karena siapa tahu suatu saat saya mengalami (yakin?) sehingga film ini dapat menjadi contoh atau pelajaran, di samping kisah teman-teman sendiri. Sebenarnya saya semacam membandingkan ulasan yang telah saya baca di Kompas dengan objek ulasan itu sendiri: Milly yang bersikap dewasa, Mamet yang bisa marah juga ketika egonya terusik, sampai penampilan Isyana yang aduhai--tetapi saya belum ngefans, enggak tahu kalau nanti sore.

Film dibuka dengan mimpi Mamet dan diakhiri dengan terwujudnya mimpi itu yang walaupun lain dari bayangan namun tetap terpenuhi. Kita bisa dengan mudahnya relate dengan Mamet ketika teman-teman lama selalu tampak lebih "keren" sedang kita sendiri "begini-begini saja", bekerja sekadar untuk memenuhi tuntutan hidup dengan memendam passion dan mengesampingkan ke-hepi-an, lalu ketika kesempatan untuk mengikuti passion itu tiba ada saja masalah sehingga perlu dicari jalan tengah. 

Saya bisa menikmati film ini dari awal sampai akhir. Tiap peran yang muncul punya karakter tersendiri yang lumayan lucu. Mungkin judul film ini yang sebenarnya: Milly, Mamet, The Stand Up Comedians, & Friends (hehe, kok jadi kayak nama band, ya.) Alhamdulillah, saya dibikin mengakak beberapa kali walaupun berkali-kali selipan joke garing dan iklan terasa memperlambat. Lalu tahu-tahu saja masalah sudah dipecahkan, tangisan Dennis Adhiswara yang dilengkapi air mulut mengingatkan pada film-filmnya yang dulu--Kwaliteit 2 dan El Meler--dan cerita berguling menuju akhirnya. Solusi yang diajukan pun sejalan dengan semangat milenial. Akankah Milly dan Mamet sukses dengan usaha ******* *spoiler alert* mereka? Yang jelas solusinya bukan berupa buka stan di Car Free Day. Eh, enggak tahu ding, enggak diperlihatkan. Namanya juga film--komersial: pada suatu titik mesti diakhiri dan semua mesti happy. Namun ketika melewati pintu exit penonton mesti menyadari dengan getir bahwa kehidupannya sendiri belum berakhir.

Di luar cerita, saya terpukau secara visual. Saya tipe orang yang baru menonton bioskop bila diajak, itu juga biasanya teman yang memilihkan film. Maka jarang-jarang saya menonton film Indonesia di bioskop, lagi pula biasanya beberapa bulan lagi di TV juga tayang. Iya, kan? Namun ternyata menonton di bioskop itu memang memberikan sensasi tersendiri. Make up dan kemulusan wajah pemeran tentu tidak akan sejelas itu apabila dilihat di layar sekecil TV. Dorongan nafsu untuk body shaming sampai memuja ketampanan menowel-nowel, di samping kesadaran bahwa diri ini sendiri buruk rupa.

Secara keseluruhan, saya merasa eksekusi film ini rapi. (Alah, bahasanya, padahal jarang menonton film.) Saya tahu Ernest Prakasa selaku sutradara dan penulis film ini yang notabene komedian telah menerbitkan beberapa film yang sepertinya semua bernuansa komedi(?), bahkan juga sepertinya buku-buku tentang menjadi lucu itu sendiri. Saya menjadi penasaran untuk menelusuri karya-karyanya itu, tetapi insya Allah dapat bersabar sampai rezeki dan kesempatan datang sendiri.

Kenang-kenangan.

Dua puluh lima ribu mah worth it lah, di Transmart Buah Batu pada tengah hari dan tengah minggu dalam teater yang sudah sepi setelah tiga minggu penayangan (karena katanya mulai rilis 20 Desember 2018). Sekalian temu kangen dengan teman yang sudah dua-tiga bulan tidak dijumpai, dan sesudahnya makan junk food yang menyisakan banyak sampah. Namun semua itu ampuh memperbaiki suasana hati.

Beberapa tulisan Nadine Gordimer dan Jorge Luis Borges dalam bahasa Indonesia di internet

Keduanya tokoh sastra. Yang satu peraih Penghargaan Nobel. Yang lainnya, walaupun tidak mendapatkan penghargaan prestisius tersebut (diduga karena isu politis), namun pengaruhnya sangat besar antara lain pada para penulis Indonesia.

Rada kurang paham sebenarnya, kenapa postingan ini penting. Tapi rasanya sayang untuk menyia-nyiakan hasil penelusuran begitu saja. Anggaplah arsip.

Nadine Gordimer
"
Rasa Senasib Itu (The Soft Voice of the Serpent) 
Kamerad
Balik ke Laboratorium 
Kejahatan Hati Nurani (Crimes of Consience) 
"



Jorge Luis Borges
"
Emma Zunz
Aku dan Borges (Borges and Myself)
Harimau-harimau Mimpi (Dreamtigers)
Tembok dan Buku (La muralla y los libros)
"