When I started this column, I hoped to and have met many people from different backgrounds. I've always said that you never know what kind of adventure you'll have and the stories you'll bring home. And the more people I meet now, the more interesting they are. I use the word interesting because that's the mildest form of endearment I can come up with. My friends are convinced that I am a magnet for demented personalities.

"Dina, mana you jumpa mamat-mamat sewel ni?" (Where do you meet these crazy people?)

Are there normal Malaysians?

I truly want this column to be a snapshot of Muslim Malaysian life. In the beginning I had lofty ideals of featuring larger than life personalities and tough issues. After last Wednesday night (it always happens on Wednesdays, I don't know why), I thought that perhaps I should lay this column to rest while I looked for normal people. That's the beauty of living in Malaysia we sure have a lot of funny characters around here. Comes with the territory I guess.

Over the years, I have been 'adopted' by a friend of my parents. He's a tall man, this uncle, rangy, very cowboy-like. He and another friend of my father have been my personal cheerleaders during the rough times. I don't know how my father is friends with these two men as he is so unlike them. I visit my surrogate families from time to time, and they offer tea, biscuits and a lot of advice.

But The Cowboy as we shall call him from now on, The Cowboy is an enigma. Peanut, a friend, strongly believes he is either with the Special Branch or plain cuckoo.

The Cowboy is purportedly to be in finance. He travels the world and disappears from the orbit from time to time, at great length. He is feared by our government, and is friends with the Yakuza.

"You heard of the Bilderberg Group, kiddo?" he snaps his fingers at me.

"Yeah," I say.

"I'm with them."

According to the Financial Times of May 2, 2005, the Bilderberg Group is an elite coterie of the world's power brokers and Western thinkers. Henry Kissinger is one of the high-profile members. In the 2005 meeting from May 5 to May 8, held in German Bavaria, prepared by the group's steering committee including Josef Ackermann of Deutsche Bank, Jorma Ollila of Nokia, Richard Perle, Vernon Jordan, Jrgen Schrempp of DaimlerChrysler, Peter Sutherland of Goldman Sachs International, Daniel Vasella of Novartis and James Wolfensohn of the Worldbank, among others expected to be present were Henry Kissinger, Carlos M. Collazo, Natan Sharansky and Bernard Kouchner.

I gawp.

In front of me is a rough looking man, smoking Sampoerna, wearing a tee-shirt that has seen better days and a no-brand jeans. I know that there are great men that lead simple lives, but hearing this conversation at 2am in a Taman Maluri warong is bit difficult to digest.

We, my friend and I, have come to see The Cowboy for a good reason: we're hungry. My parents are away, and I still haven't figured out how to use my mother's high-tech oven, it's so damned complicated (don't you make fun of my cooking skills, I can cook a mean meal), so I dragged Peanut out to visit The Cowboy.

Superheroes

We are the only women among a small group of men, at an abandoned food court. There is only one stall open. After being introduced to everyone, we of course ask, "Are you with Special Branch?"

The men smile and one of them, a diminutive man in his 60s, tells us that the men are " buangan Kerajaan. Malaysia has forgotten us."

Peanut: Are we the only women in this group?

Man: No, there are others here. But they're ghaib .

Peanut and I squint in the darkness to look for invisible women. Oooh, this is fun.

This tight, cohesive group work together but not together. Each one has his own work to do, and each one is gifted.

"How do you think we go about our work not protected? We'd be dead if we didn't have them!" The Cowboy drags on his cigarette heavily.

Who, we ask?

"Can't you see them? Our soldiers."

We still can't see anything.

"Like me. I am surrounded by Wali Songo."

"Huh?"

Wali Songo is a group of missionaries from Java that existed in 15th century. According to gimonca.com , "The nine walis were Sufi teachers who spread Islam and did all variety of powerful and unusual acts across Java. The histories of these men are not always clear. In fact, if you try to count all of them, you will end up with more than nine. Some sources say that there was more than one group of nine. The most probable explanation is that there was a loose council of nine religious leaders, and that as older members retired or passed away, new members were brought into this council."

"Symbolically, for later rulers on Java, the wali songo provided a link between the rulers of Majapahit or earlier kingdoms, and the rulers of Mataram, and eventually the Sultans of Yogya and Surakarta. They were both links in the dynastic family trees and cultural links, as they adapted the old arts and traditions to the new Islamic reality."

All well and good. However, the chosen like The Cowboy are blessed, for they have received their 'saka' spiritual or paranormal inheritance.

Allow me to digress. Many Malays believe in the idea of saka . Saka is not Islamic this inheritance means that you have accepted not only your lineage but also the paranormal benefits that come along with it. So some ladies have Puteri Gunung Ledang guarding them, Puteri Saadong et al, and some men have a Tiger Spirit watching over them or a long dead ancestor that was once an ustaz. These are usually a generational thing. Others, in wanting power and status, go to djinn brokers where for a fee you can get yourself a hantu raya, toyol, bajang and so forth. My friend Mims told me once that somewhere in Jengka you can meet such a man and order a hantu that's relevant to your needs.

Nationalism at its weirdest

Because of their work, The Cowboy and friends rely on ghostly help to deflect attacks.

"What work do you do?" we ask. Says who that it's only boys that want to be superheroes? We girls want a cut in the action too.

"We are ultra-nationalists. We uphold the rights of Malays."

This is when everything gets more weird. The men then talk about the credit card conspiracy - banks are targeting the Malays so that they'd spend and go bankrupt as well as more basketcase stories about their ties with the Yakuza, Queen Elizabeth, you name it, they're online with everyone and guess what. On May 13, 1969, they lobbed off the heads of Chinese men as the city rioted.

My friend turns to me and hisses, " Kawan you ni sewel lah. "

I'm thinking, if my father finds out about this outing, he's going to kill me. Thank God he's in Iran now. You know how Kelantanese men are like when it comes to their daughters.

"We are the guardians of zakat ," the men tell us.

"Your zakat is not going to the right pockets, so we are guarding them."

"So you're taking care of the ummah ?" we ask.

"Of course not. We're taking care of the Malays."

"That's a big difference," the Cowboy says.

" Kalau isu ugama tak strong, tak payah nak cite pasal bab negara. So now we have to build up our strength." (If we are not strong religiously, let's not talk about the country).

They tell us they're not with any political parties. They inform us so that we know that Malaysia is a sinking ship and it is important for all Malays to save their country. And the only way to do so is to go back to Islam.

"Are you with PAS then?" we ask.

" Tak main la PAS ." (No we are not with PAS)

Oh bengong mamat ni. Pening dia buat kita. (This man is mad. He is confusing us).

So all this, all that is happening across our landscape, this is all a tussle for Malay rights then and that Islam is our sword, our tool and strength to reclaim our birthright? Hence, Islam is accidental? Hey I want to get my country back from you invaders, so I'll use anything to get it back, so if I have to use religion I will? What about the Chinese and Indian Muslims? What about everyone else?

"This is all an illusion," The Cowboy smiles.

Maybe it is.

"One day, all will be revealed," the men say as they wave goodbye to us.

Glossary:

Ghaib Invisible

Zakat tithe

Sewel crazy

Ummah Muslim community

DINA ZAMAN lives in Kuala Lumpur with her family.