A Passion for Hatred?

“I could kill all the Jews in the world, but I kept some alive so you can see why I was killing them.” – Adolf Hitler

Living in a predominantly Muslim country, I have to admit that the air here is polluted with blind anti-Israel sentiments; more so in recent years as Islamic conservatives tighten their grip on the society. Thus, it was no surprise that in response to the Gaza flotilla clash, the above quotation spread so fast like chicken pox in an elementary school.

For years I have resisted condoning, let alone being tempted, by the regrettably racist behavior by my fellow Muslims. I simply kept my mouth shut up. Only occasionally have I tried to correct the narrow-mindedness. My position in this matter is that Indonesia should not get too involved in the fray, lest we be caught in a bad romance.

For one thing, it has become very impossible to take sides in the Israel-Palestine conflict, which started an extremely long time ago. In any fight that goes on for too long, no one is free from blame and no one deserves too much sympathy. I’m not saying that we should leave the people of Palestine and Israel be. They do need our help so badly. However, I wouldn’t throw all my sympathy to one side or another. A bullet through the heart is a live lost, doesn’t matter if he’s a Palestinian or an Israeli. A house rocketed is a home lost, regardless of the flag it flies.

But for now, I cannot allow myself to be silent. I do understand that Israel’s raid on the activists’ flotilla is a tragedy for humanity; moreover, the incident is another episode in the already violent history of the region. We have to demand an independent and thorough investigation regarding this attack. Nevertheless, this trend of quoting der fuhrer is utterly racist and disturbing. The toxic words, along with the ideas it carries, should be stopped as quickly as it had started.

First, we are speaking for humanity and humanity deserves a better spokesperson than Hitler. Thousands of influential figures from the past and present, and people come up with Hitler!? If any of you has forgotten, he threw millions of people into suffering. Surely we don’t want our quest for peace to be blurred by gas chambers.

Second, the act of passing on the message means that people give their nod to genocide. I don’t have the slightest idea why people could agree with such massive killing. What good would it bring anyway? Furthermore, people are being blatantly unfair. Try replacing the word ‘Jews’ from the quote with ‘Muslims’, no doubt mobs with pitchforks and torches will siege the German embassy in a flash. With the do-unto-other spirit, I say we should say NO to disseminating this hate message.

Last, I humbly ask everyone who claims to ‘support the path toward peace’ in the Middle East to rise above all the anger and hatred. Anger and hatred are what had started this chaos; we must not let them take control of the situation. What this world needs is, as clichéd as this may sound, compassion. If that’s not possible in this heated atmosphere, then restrain will do just as fine.

We have to stop Hitler, once again.

A Bit of Background

I have just realized that this blog, born in the middle of my 4th semester in med school, will be unclear without a background story. It would be like popping in the cinema in the middle of Iron Man 2: fun but confusing. (Although the dancing Ironettes in the beginning will give no help in getting you oriented anyway).

 

I have stated in my first post that I live in the Big Durian, Jakarta. I was born and raised here. As I grow up, I started to understand the chaos that runs the city. The maddening traffic, lack of open green spaces, oversupply of posh malls, and the thug-like hospitality of its citizens. I happily fooled myself into thinking that it will help develop stronger, more resilient men and women.

 

I am the first son with one younger brother who looks like a cuter version of Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine - or a hybrid of Hanuman and Doraemon, whichever appeals to your imagination. In contrast to what people think, my parents are not doctors. My dad works in a South East Asian bank, while my mom is a proud full-time mother. On the other hand, my maternal grandparents are doctors. Pediatricians, to be precise. They studied in the same university, in the same year, and both have worked in the same field: pediatric respirology.

 

My educational background is not so eclectic. From kindergarten through high school, I went to Al-Azhar 1. I could add that it is the one near the Great Mosque of Al-Azhar in Kebayoran, yet I don’t know how many of you would actually benefit from that info. It is an Islamic school, but generally works like a normal school with a few extra ‘Islamic’ rules. If you are asking right now: no, boys and girls are not separated; yes, we are allowed to act like the average teenagers; no, there is no such thing as an Underwear Bomb 101 class.

 

My journey to med school is a mix of daring and blessing. My test scores during the 3 years of high school afforded me a chance for direct application without any entrance test. I used that chance and daringly did not prepare a Plan B. Fortunately, I got one of the nineteen ‘no-test’ seats offered by the medical faculty.

 

Since then, life has been kind enough to surprise me everyday.

Come Join the Ride

Hi everyone. I’m not that good with introductions but society dictates that we always introduce ourselves before starting anything, however irrelevant or forgettable that intro will be.

My name is Adit and I am currently another victim of life in Jakarta, Indonesia. If I let my hair grow, it becomes crazy-curly like in the profile picture. In the young age of 17 years, I landed myself in medical school: a move in the right direction according to my plans.

However, it has become more than a good move.

I am currently in my second year. Still in the preclinical stage, so those looking for batshit crazy patient stories would do right to visit other blogs by not-so-sane doctors who made us pray that we never get sick. Despite that, med school has taught me many stuffs other than why you want to poo right after a meal or what happens if you rectal-touched a baby with Hirschsprung disease. I relearned how to socialize, made new friends, and juggled tons of activities. Additionally, I have ridden on the proverbial rollercoaster of life that would make national politics look like a serene yoga session.

Welcome to (the hole on the fence that lets you take a peek at) my life.

Adhitya S Ramadianto

Class of 2008