Of Indonesian Soap Operas

Or Sinetrons as they prefer to call it. Soap is so American. Anyway, from what little knowledge I knew, soaps originated as day time drama serials over radio or tv with continuing or in some cases endless episodes (Days of our Lives(?!) haha. Someone's grandmother actually joked that she'd die first before reaching the end of the story). Well, the said grandma did passed on and the story is still running. Anyway, in January 2007, it was suggested by NBC that Days of Our Lives is unlikely to continue past 2009.

Back to my entry here. For the record, I have never, ever, for the life of me, indulged myself in front of the couch at a certain hour each week, eagerly waiting for an anticipated episode and wondering why the handsome but stupid male actor remain blissfully unaware that everyone around him is conspiring against him and that his stepmother is actually a mad, old cow with an 80s hairdo.

I have never, ever cleared all the cooking, cleaning and slaving superfast on a given weekday just so that I could enjoy that one hour of freedom from everyday life.

And god forbid, I hope I never, ever put on a sour face when guests came at that hour and make me miss that crucial episode.

For I have never, ever been a big fan of soap operas. Never.

That is until I came across the first episodes of Istri untuk Suamiku (A wife for my husband). Now if only I could do the same to my husband. Not!

As riveting as the title goes, the story is so damn stupid, the pace super slow, the parts so bloody unbelievable that I just have to sit through 1.5 hours of it. Every week. I have no idea why but somehow, crunchy peanut butter on celery sticks just tastes better in front of that programme at that hour when you have the TV to yourself and everyone has gone to dreamland.

The story centres around a couple, Alia and Krisna. A happily married but childless couple. Krisna's mom dotes on Alia (Talk about unreal. Is there such a thing?) and openly expressed her wish to have grandchildren before she die. Alia took it upon her head that she has to die-die give a grandchild to her mother-in-law so as not to disappoint her. But, here's the catch. Alia is barren.

So this pious, ultra beautiful woman hit upon this idea of finding a wife for Krisna. A sort of contractual thing where they will consummate the marriage and file for divorce once the baby is born. All expenses paid, no strings attached and a straight cut win-win situation. Apparantly, the producers have never heard of artificial insemnation.

Krisna's violent objection was understood but I think he secretly likes the idea. Which men wouldn't? So we see Alia interviewing women of all walks of life together with her gynae whom I noticed have eyes that are too close together. The fact that she is so wooden doesn't really help matters. I give her credit for her expressive frowns though.

After rounds of interviewing the wrong girls, they came upon Reva who looked like she was forced to marry a camel and is desparate for money to bear her younger sister's surgical expenses.

So the unhappy Reva married Krisna in Alia's wedding gown. A stupid move because apparently, Krisna kept seeing Alia in the gown instead of Reva. The two reluctant newly weds then consummate their marriage.

Alia being the super-understanding, super-sweet wife comforted Reva and assures her that everything will be alright. She clears the master bedroom of her things and moved to the guest room where she lay awake the whole night praying that she could be strong enough to ignore what is going on in the other room.

Krisna came into Alia's room and told her that he's done what he has to do. He looked so miserable that as the audience, we forgot to see that he's a bona fide man and that he's actually itching to get back to Reva's room.

Reva's sister amidst much misunderstanding finally gets to stay with them and undergo the operation so that she can walk again. This one a bit unlogical but the glaring mistake cannot compensate with what I would want to say next.

Reva's pregnancy advances and managed to fall in love with Krisna. Alia meanwhile parades around with a pillow under her clothes to fool her mother-in-law. Seriously, how many women can stand walking around with a pillow like that for nine months?

Then in the hospital, while Reva was struggling to give birth, the mother-in-law kept interfering and stumbling upon Reva and Krisna who unfortunately were always in a less than desirable position when the clueless woman walks in.

Have to give the mother-in-law some credit when she initally suspects but was always put at ease when Alia or Krisna created one white lie after another. As easily as the woman shows her distaste and disgust (like stepmothers in sadistic 70s movies), she can easily be cooled and calmed by the two main characters. Tell me, how many mother-in-laws are like that?

So, we have Reva fighting for her life and her baby. The doctor (surprise! it's the closely-spaced eyed actress again!) told Alia and Krisna that Reva has only 3 hours to live if she is not given a specific medication which unfortunately the hospital has ran out of. How unbelievable is that?

Krisna and Alia is portrayed as rich enough to buy half of Indonesia, and here they are in some bloody, inefficient hospital with a doctor who said matter of factly (forget about the expressive frown! Reva is dying remember??!!) that they don't have that kind of medication and calmly wrote on a slip of paper the name of the medicine so that Krisna can go and look for it. She might as well add potato chips and popcorn on her list. It was so stupid, the writers deserved to be kicked to ER (the american tv series, duh!) and have the doctors there jabbed some sense in their asses.

The next scene have them twiddling their thumbs for 3 hours and looking at the clock's fingers from 12:00 to 2:55 am. Krisna came in with a plastic bag with the medication (maybe he purchased from the nearest 24 hour guardian pharmacy) and gave it to the doctor.

Miraculously, Reva survived (duh!) and so does the baby. Do they live happily ever after? Of course not. Mother-in-law have to come into Alia's room and feed her post-natal food and thank her for giving her a grandchild. Alia is too stupid to confess and kept giving wild looks. Mother-in-law of course was too happy to notice.

The unlogical part. How is it that Alia, who supposedly fought all night to give birth look so healthy with make up to boot and walking around from room to room the next morning? I couldn't walk like that even after a week of giving birth. Mother-in-law never notice this too. She was too busy scolding Krisna for hugging another woman (Reva).

As of today, the serial is still running. It's only once a week, late at night, so, I need not do my housework in a hurry and need not have to put a superficial smile on my face when I have guests over. Wait! Didn't I just deny all this at the top of this page? Well, I'm still in denial. This sinetron is so damn stupid, it's good. And I am so not going to watch this ever again.

So tonight, when everyone has gone to bed, I'll probably can't sleep and start channel surfing. HBO and StarMovie will not have anything interesting unless you unsubscribe. Yes, when you unsubscribe, they advertise all these blockbusters and when you do, you get all these stupid movies.

Oh boy, I can't wait to see more stupidity tonight.

Oops.

Sleepless in KK

Someone told me I'd be bored stiff if I were to be warded for 4 straight days in a hospital without a TV. After my experience in a B1 ward in KK hospital back in 2001, where I had an emergency C-section and where I didn't bathe for 4 days despite having a luxurious-sized bathroom and the shock of getting the bill afterwards (although I never fully-utilised the facilities) I was glad that I have a more economic love for reading.

So for my second child, not only did I opt for being wide awake during my C-section (I researched and am mentally prepared for it), I also opt for a B2+ ward which is air-conditioned, subsidized by the government and have an attached bathroom. Even if I couldn't bathe, at least I'm comfortable.

The first night was ok. The minute I was wheeled into the 5 bedded ward, the other 3 patients were discharged and all the beds were freshly made that same afternoon. I felt like the plague carrier. So I was left with the patient in front of me and that night I requested for the nurses on duty to leave the ward door open. (I have a right to be cautious. I've read too much hospital horror stories) So I had a good night's rest with the reassuring whispers of the nurses changing shifts and exchanging gossips.

The first few days there was somewhat enjoyable as I no longer have this phobia that my stomache would burst open. I can enjoy my bath and change my baby's diapers without getting overwhelmed by his sudden yelling and even have time to teach the student nurses how to tie the strings on a maternity pad after I was left unflatteringly exposed while they figure out which end of the strings goes to which loop.

I didn't miss the TV one bit.

My last night stay was a different story altogether. I thought I could jolly well enjoy my last peaceful night of sleep before facing the many months of sleepless nights to come. So after wheeling my baby to the nursery, I prepared for bed as usual and read the first few pages of Bridget Jones Diary with the curtains drawn. I didn't know when I slipped into slumberland because I was jolted wide awake somewhere around 3 am.

It began as this weird dream of playing netball with a group of people. Suddenly I was surrounded by Indian ladies calling out "Ammah....Ayyahhhh.....Ammmahhhhh". They began surging towards me as if I just came out from Planet Reebok with a pair of needed trainers for their netball game. Then they started chasing me and I was jolted awake only to hear more "Ammahhss and Ayyahhss" coming out from the bed ten o-clock to my left.

I instantly remembered the quiet Indian girl, in her early twenties being admitted that afternoon. She has not given birth but was warded anyway. Probably her gynae was monitoring her. So, this girl was crying "Ammahhhhh....Ayyahhh..." for the next ten minutes and it began to get really irritating. I mean, if she's in pain, can't she call out for help? There's a radio button on every bed. What happened to hers?

And so, being civic minded and a bit selfish, I pressed on my own button to call out the nurses stationed outside. One of them came in with a torchlight and goes "who press the bell??" in the darkened room. The girl next to me was snoring and the other two patients were blissfully asleep. I was like "Can you check on the girl? She's been crying like for the past ten minutes"
The nurse turned towards the girl who had just stepped into the loo and spoke through the door, "Rajesh?...You ok or not? Want to go down? (Labour ward)" The girl mumbled something inside and the nurse said "Ok" and left the room. I felt like the boy who cried wolf.

I heard the sound of flushing and the creaking of "Rajesh's" bed. She damn well better get back to sleep because she sure is messing with mine. I was almost dozing off when the crying started again. Wah liao!!. What is this? Just now say ok, then cry some more. I felt like throwing a bucket of water at her.

It went on for the next hour and amidst her crying, I fell into a short dream where I actually literally kicked her out of the room! I was rudely awaken by louder "Ammahhhss and Ayyahhhs". This time I jammed the radio button again and pretended to sleep when the nurse on duty stepped in. This time, Rajesh wisely continued crying. The nurses wheeled her out and then total silence. Well, except for the girl snoring beside my bed who, remained asleep throughout the commotion, but otherwise, very, very quiet.

I checked out my cellphone. Hmm, 4:45am. I might as well get some sleep.

I turned left. Then turn right. Then left again and blinked. WTF??...

And so it was, at 5:00 am, at KK hospital, I bade farewell to 8 hours of peaceful sleep. Well, not exactly forever but at least for the next coming year or so..... I think....