The Umpteenth Journal Attempt (Version III)

The phone rang. Imagine the following conversation in Indonesian, because that’s how it occurred. It’s been rewritten because I don’t remember every verbatim detail, but in essence this is how it went:

"Hello, this is the liason officer for Bluey of Incognito, regarding your interview with him. So you’re from Rolling Stone?"

"Yes, I am."

"Can I get your name, please?"

"Sure. It’s Hasief."

"Hafies?"

"No, Hasief."

"Hasies?"

"Hasief."

"Hafies?"

"No, try reversing that last part."

"Seifah?"

"No! Here, let me spell it out: Hotel, Alpha…"

"Could you SMS it?"

"HOTEL, Alpha, Sierra, India, Echo, Fanta."

"Ha…sief?"

"(Grunt of confirmation)"

"OK, thanks."

"(Sigh of relief mixed with resignation)"

End of call. At least she didn’t ask for my last name. I can already imagine how that would’ve gone down: "NO! WITHOUT THE ‘N’!"

Note to my unnamed-and-yet-to-be-conceived offspring: Don’t worry, kids, Daddy’s working on it.

I am currently at the Jakarta Convention Centre, for the second of Java Jazz Festival’s three days. It’s the music event of the year in Indonesia, in terms of scale and performers, so naturally I just had to be here, as I was last year. Though it remains to be seen whether I would’ve paid to be here, because personally the entirety of this festival does not compare to, well, my Singapore trip, hahaha. Anyway, right now I’m sleepy, having got back at around 1 from yesterday’s show. But there’s about 10 hours to go for today’s show in which I have to go around endlessly looking for something interesting to check out. Plus I have to take pictures to boot. And there’s still another whole day to go. I hope I don’t pass out from exhaustion. If things get boring I’ll probably head to the car and get some sleep. The perks of being able to sleep anywhere, as my university classmates and a number of lecturers may have witnessed for themselves.

Later, then. Duty calls!