From Our Breakfast Table

From Our Breakfast Table a column that Anya Rompas was (supposed to share) with her husband while the
both of them are enjoying having their hearty and long breakfast. Discussing all and every topic imaginable,
from the personal to the mundane, from the political to the magical, from the upsetting to the delightful.
It is on their breakfast table, together. With scrambled eggs, orange juice and coffee, she dissects
our fears and concerns, plans and fantasies... until it's time for lunch!

welcome home, starling

you are safe now

A Year in Review

A Year in Review

January 1, 2016

Wear your costume tonight

Poetry can be painful-

ly 

s

i

c

k

 

May 29, 2016

A piece of kai-lan hidden between a folded tissue paper.

 

May 30, 2016

A car climbs a skyscraper.

 

May 31, 2016

Blood on the bedsheets ruined the day. A whole bloody day!

 

July 10, 2016

Household cleaning apparatus. 

 

July 27, 2016

My daughter and I lounged on the carpet of my mother-in-law’s dressing room, in front of her floor-to-ceiling mirror. She was talking and making a series of silly faces to herself in the mirror. When I asked why she was doing that, she happily said: "I want to be her, Mama. I want to be in there."  

 

July 30, 2016

My daughter pulled the blanket up to her neck. She smiled.

 

August 7, 2016

Yesterday the three of us were watching Dr K, a show on Nat Geo Wild. One of the pets that were brought to Dr K's office was a cute grey-haired pig named Mimi. When she was being weighed, it showed that she weighed 55 kg. She was 2 kg heavier than I was! And we all laughed. My daughter’s was the loudest.

 

August 20, 2016

When we moved to our house after we got married, my husband carried me inside, in front of both of our families. Which was a bit embarrassing and sweet at the same time. I remembered he told me I could do whatever I wanted to decorate the house. 

On one of our trips to Manado, we went for a day trip to Langowan. I asked Onal and another cousin whose name I cannot recall to take me to the old graveyards.

 

September 17, 2016

Moths flew in circles looking for a rupture in my head. So they can creep in and steal my recollection of what I have kept about us and them.

An elderly man ran, pulling behind him his fried rice cart, like he never ran before. Cars, motorcycles, buses, trains, a pride of lions. 

There were times when I was able to sit on the seat next to Metro Mini bus drivers. The view was glorious, like novels and poetry. And to get off I only had to turn my head and say stop. 

 

October 5, 2016

A little girl pulled her train of toy ducks, walking around the pool of Bundaran HI.

 

November 25, 2016

Had a good massage. The therapist's fingers were fleshy and confident. Her name was Bu Yanti. 

 

November 28, 2016

The railways were braids splendid under the afternoon sun. The becaks carried people smoking, eating gorengan, laughing, breathing the same lead-filled air. Rice warungs, people selling pirated DVDs, cats enjoying scraps of warung food, children with white faces covered with too much powder, their moms giggling under a tree, their wet hair tidily combed, leaking drops of water…

 

Dec 1, 2016

My little girl was talking to the fridge. Where she sticks her drawings and letters to her parents. Mama, papa, I want to move in to the new house because I want to have a sleepover with my friends. Xoxo.

 

Dec 2, 2016

She announced that she was an emotion doctor. Her diagnosis concluded that I was anxious about a recent job offer. She recommended me to list at least three emotions I felt in a day plus my own evaluation why I felt them. Then she prescribed me with an essential oil blend called Pan Away, which she put in a plastic bag. She wrote on the label: 

For patient Anya

Inhale 1x a day 

dr Jaemanis.

 

Dec 8, 2016

Not too long ago, we were young. We were young, reckless, and doe-eyed. Cross the bridge, look for the alley, where lights hide more than its darkest corners. Say bye, bye, bye…

Inspired by Allen Ginsberg’s poems on page 94-95 in “Death & Fame: Poems 1993-1997” (Harper Flamingo). Nowhere near as brilliant, I know, so there is no need to remind me of that. Smiley face. Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!

Simple Past

Simple Past

A Good Time

A Good Time