15 April 2009

Notes from a Grandson

Last Sunday, April 12, 2009, my big extended family celebrated the 70th birthday of my grandfather. As expected, great food abounded, some of which my mom supplied from the roadside stalls of my high school. This isn’t the first time we played out this strategy, and as usual, it proved to be a hit. There happened to be some singing too. Hmm...I’ll put it this way: it’s like the audition for American Idol, properly-sang songs were few and far between; however, you just really have to love it. Otherwise, my mom wouldn’t hesitate to chop me up and serve my meat for the next party we’re having.

Festivities aside, there were moments that really made the day what it is: an expression of gratitude and a rare opportunity to discover an essential part of my family’s history, plus precious life lessons my grandpa inherited from his ancestors. The event was somewhat different from my family’s typical birthday party. Before we got to the tempting lunch part, the day began with speeches and testimonials from people who had been around my grandpa for all these times.

There was one of his younger brother who spoke about his admiration for his older brother’s tenacity and hard work, reflecting on the hard days of yore when they were still students. My grandpa’s colleague, and friend, for more than 40 years reminisced about the days when they were in medical school (FKUI, yay!) and finally became pediatricians. He also told about the times when the three of them (my grandpa, grandma, and himself) had to relentlessly fight their way to establish the pediatric pulmonology field in the hospital and university. A former student of his, now a senior pediatrician, also shared his experiences when he was taught by my grandpa, whom he regards as a “real teacher”.

Then, my grandpa did a speech, which was so inspirational that some of the audience wished their family were there to hear it themselves. He began with a short history of his parents and ancestors. His father was a widely-respected village head in Ponorogo, East Java. He was known for his dedication and pluralism, uniting the so-called nasakom (nationalist, religious, and communist) of that time. He stepped down only when Suharto took the presidency because he was asked to force the villagers to vote for Golkar.

On a side note, I have experienced my great grandpa’s legacy myself: whenever I mention his house to a Ponorogo senior citizen, they always mention it as the village head’s house – almost half a century after his letting go of the position and more than 15 years after his death.

My grandpa continued on, into the topic of his being a doctor. This part was very revealing, especially for me, since there were soo many information I never knew before. Apparently, after graduating from a high school in Madiun, he tried out for three universities: the medical school in University of Indonesia (once again FKUI, yay!), the med school in Airlangga University, and Bandung Institute of Technology. Well, he got accepted to FKUI and became a doctor in 1965. He originally wanted to continue his studies to become an internist; yet, he didn’t pass the selection. That’s the point where he was offered a chance in pediatrics. Noting that his wife (my grandma, they’re already married by that time) was already accepted in pediatrics, he said yes to the offer.

Just a few years later, my grandparents and their colleagues established the pediatric pulmonology field, despite challenges from many people. At one point in the heat of things, my grandpa was told to go on a leave for a while as a time to refresh himself and clear his mind. Fortunately, they got the support from a professor and achieved their first goal. He ended the touching speech with ancient Javanese adages which had guided him all these years.

The whole thing made me a genuinely proud grandson, who aspire to be like him. It really was an inspiration and a motivation for me to keep going through the trials and tribulation of med school. His life story reminds me to always go for that extra mile, the mile that only extraordinary people would tread. Last, he is also well-known as a down-to-earth person, one who never forgets his roots - and he’s a person of great social values too.

This piece of writing is dedicated to my grandfather, whom I admire very very much.

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