God, I'm knackered.
My Jamu Trail trip to the East Coast was an inspiring trip, though there were a few painful truths that had to be faced. Decisions were made, and as they say, there's no looking back after this. I was supposed to stay a few days in Pahang, meeting with and talking to 'makcik-makcik' about their herbal potions, but somehow I detoured and hitched a ride back to Kuala Terengganu. These old ladies, they were fierce, they weren't going to just talk to anyone about their secret potions and elixirs of youth.
Kuala Terengganu was blazingly hot. It was the Sultan of Terengganu's birthday, and there was a quiet air of festivity as everyone bustled about their daily duties.
People you might meet one day
Ustaz M popped by my grandmother's house in the morning. He had brought a gift: a few bags of kerepok - fish crackers - for my family. He's a living Lat caricature; with his tall songkok and height, Ustaz enjoyed wearing baju melayu inspired by Fifties fashion.
"Oh it's you! Assalamualaikum! Ini rahmat ni, rahmat! (This is God's blessing!)" he said when I opened the door. Fanning his head with his songkok (hat), Ustaz M sat down and grinned. He's a cheerful one, this man. A few years back, he actually bought an old Volkswagen Beetle that broke down all the time, but he and his car was a hit with the local kids. The children called him Ustaz P. Ramlee. His wife's a stunning East Coast beauty.
"How's KL?" he asked.
"Macam tu lah. Same old, same old."
"I read about that murtad case you know. I read it in the papers!" his eyes popped.
"What do you think about it? Apostasy?"
The fan on the ceiling creaked and blew no breeze. By then we were both fanning ourselves - he with his songkok and I with Kosmo!
"When I say things like this, people say 'Hoh, Ustaz M ni gila'. The truth is, when it comes to apostasy, it can mean that the individual lacks a strong foundation in religion... there can be many reasons, which is why ulamas need to find out the cause... reason..."
He sighed.
"You know, we condemn the Chinese, the Indians, we never see the positive side. But just observe how the Chinese take care of their families and communities. You know kan, how the Chinese are driven, ambitious? Look at how they mould their children. Buak bisnes, you must be successful for the family. Do not tarnish the family name. Chino ne sanggup mati demi bangsa dia. Melayu? Sanggup mati dalam angan-angan ." (The Chinese are ready to die for their race. We die in our dreams)
"It's our fault, Dina. Pendakwah-pendakwah, our religious leaders have created a barrier between them and the people."
The fan swayed over our heads menacingly.
"Dina!"
"Ye, Ustaz."
"You must visit my small mosque you know. It's nice. Children come to play ping-pong... I'm trying to get a doctor to house his clinic there... a mosque is not only for prayers... it's a community centre you know. Asyik-asyik ceramah . Huh. I want people to view my tiny mosque as a place to just be. Relax. Make friends. Seek solace. Do you think it'll work?"
I smiled. "Yes. I think it will."
"I also have plans but when I tell my friends they say I am crazy."
"What's that?"
"You know, we ustazs, we always wear songkok or kopiah and baju melayu. I tell you, when kids see us they run off. They don't want to hear religious lectures. If I'm them, I wouldn't either. So! I'm thinking of wearing a tee-shirt, jeans and a baseball cap, go to Pantai Batu Burok... and hang out with the boys there. Talk to them. Soft approach. But when I tell my friends this they think it's cracked."
"I think that's really cool. You should do it!"
Ustaz M beamed and put on his songkok.
"You think so? Oh good! Oh, rahmatnya dapat jumpa Dina... rahmat! Rahmat! Oh, next time you come, call me. We'll take you to Pulau Duyong. It's not just famed for boatmaking, it was once the site of Islamic learning. Sufism. Bet you didn't know that! Oi, I have to go. I have to teach my students tajweed classes!"
Later that night, we had another visitor. Extra plates were set for dinner.
The visitor asked me, "How is your friend? The mat salleh that's helping the rehabilitated drug addicts?"
"I wouldn't know. I thought you took over."
She looked away.
"He called my husband you know. We're worried. Your friend said a few Christian missionaries were willing to fund his shelter. If that happens, they will convert them to Christianity!"
I was silent. For awhile.
"If they do convert, you only have yourself to blame," I said.
This was charity work gone to the dogs. I was approached to help destitute but rehabilitated drug addicts by a friend needing contacts in Terengganu. I pointed him to a few people, and the visitor and her husband had committed themselves to helping the shelter. Or so we were told-lah.
My poor friend kept calling and none of the calls were returned. He asked for help and no help was given.
The visitor fidgeted in her seat.
"We are busy you know. He has work and I have to take care of a family."
"Then why commit when you can't deliver?"
"I don't have to listen to this."
Nothing more was said.
Country club
"What do you think (of the Lina Joy case)?" I asked a friend, who does a lot of dakwah work.
"Huh. Frankly? This is what I told all my friends: eh, isu murtad ni bukan baru. This has been going on for years. Suddenly this Lina girl goes to the press, satu negara kecoh . Of course I kena maki lah by the others, but I said, lantak budak tu nak kafir ke apa. Biar-lah dia ."
"Wah, you're active in missionary work this is strong babe."
"Eh mek, one of the question to be asked is this... orang Melayu masuk Kristian sebab tak suka Islam atau tak suka Melayu-Muslim?! Contoh or reflection of agama Islam adalah pada penganutnya! Kalau ummah macam setan leaders macam setan zina sana sini penipu besar aqidah hancur la ni apa ke jadah nya ni..." (Why do the Malays become Christians? Because they don't like the religion or the Malay-Muslims? An example of the religion is seen in its people. If Muslims are like the devils, the leaders too, adultery here and there, liars.. how?)
She had a point.
"Anyway, you ni member any of these Muslim Ngos? SIS ke ABIM ke MPF ke apa-apa?" she asked.
"Nope. I'm an independent, heh."
"Good. Nanti you mereng if you get involved with the internal politics of these groups. It's all ego, but never about Islam. How can you fight when you don't reflect upon your own soul?"
Ouch.
This is the last of I Am Muslim . It has been a great one and half years: enlightening, frightening, funny, upsetting, heartbreaking and yet hopeful.
The column manifested in my head when I was an MA student and simmered for the next few years, and became a reality last year. What a ride! I met enough interesting people to last me a lifetime, got chased by a bomoh's dog, received weird emails from readers - everyone else in malaysiakini gets normal brickbats and bouquets; I get the siao ones - got scolded, asked out on dates (no thanks), and saw enough to know that it was time to take a break, before I ended up too jaded.
If there were any disappointments when it came to writing this column, it would be the lack of cooperation from third parties, such one or two organisations. Thanks a lot guys, for standing me up on appointments. You know who you are. You appear in papers, on the net, espousing the virtues of the religion and how great you are, and you can't even keep to an interview. I have been taught this by my parents: your left hand must never know what your right hand does, in the name of God and charity, but we live in Malaysia, everything is a photo-op.
But let's put this aside.
We live in challenging times. I don't need to repeat myself, you read the papers, get the forwarded emails, you know what is happening. Tempers will flare, and egos will clash; provocation may become the catalyst for a tragedy. My father once said to me, a Malay may not be the most pious of Muslims; he may not even pray five times a day, but when he is provoked, when his race and religion are deemed as 'under attack', watch out.
The best word to describe this would be 'amok'.
Yes, already on the ground, there are heated discussions and people are fearless in voicing their thoughts. Allow me to recount briefly what had happened to my colleagues and I last week.
We were having our usual the tarik and talking about er a very cute leader of a Muslim NGO ( kiyut! ), and how it's so hard to find a date in this town, when this man on the other table said to us,
"Malaysia is an Islamic state."
We stopped eating.
"Huh?"
"Malaysia IS an Islamic state."
CT said, "No it is not. Under the Federal Constitution, Islam is the official religion. But Malaysia is not an Islamic state.
"It is. Kalau tak how can that Moorthy case come through?"
We looked at each other and shrugged. Nutter.
We went on to talk about more pressing details such as this cute doctor when the man asked pointed menacingly at Arfa and I:
"Are you Malay?"
At me:
"You? Malay?"
AA and I looked at him.
"Ya?"
He nodded and went back to his tea.
We got up and left.
Have faith
This anecdote may be of no importance to you; a random stranger and his rather profound thought won't bring down a nation. But think. If he had pressed on and had picked the wrong people to fight over what is and isn't an Islamic state, what would have happened? He was lucky he spoke to three women that brushed him off, as they had better things to talk about, like this very attractive doctor that's heading a Muslim NGO.
I do have faith in my country. I have no choice but to have faith! When I think back of the ustazs that have taught me - Ustaz Arifin, Ustaz M and so forth - I know that there are good ulamas in this country that possess clear minds and hearts. My friends of varying depths of faith in Islam - from the conservative to non-practising, the hijabed to streaked hair - they prove to me that there are good people out there. My non-Muslim friends, even though they are curious, frustrated, angry, if not for their questions, I would not have learned more about my faith.
The only difference is we're the little people that you may walk past and not notice, because it is not an obsession to be seen out there saving the world. Ustaz M for example is happy to live in his little mosque, and playing the guitar with the kids. He has no interest in anything outside Terengganu, and his work is done silently, passionately. And what one must realise that what one reads in the media, which tends to be more urban based, does not represent the rest of Malaysia.
Thank you, dear readers. For supporting and scolding me. For sending me really demented emails. Asking me which bomoh to go to. Apa lah you all ni. Tak senonoh betul.
Don't view this as goodbye. IAM and I are going off on an extended holiday. A day at Kinokuniya Bookstore sounds good, and is on the cards. Actually, going on a holiday to an island sounds swell.
And that's good enough for now I think.
Dina Zaman can be reached at [email protected].
