Monday, October 27, 2003
Monday, October 27, 2003
The first day of Ramadan
I arrived to Malaysia on Thursday last week (October 23) and have been keeping notes about my impressions, thoughts, surprises, and feelings. I'm afraid this first part will be a little disjointed because of that, but hope to keep more regular recordings from here on out.
I suppose I should begin with the beginning. As my plane approached Kuala Lumpur, I noticed the clouds. Then, the green and the changes in elevation of the land. It was a big difference from the clear skies, flat, yellow/brown world of Cairo. Once landed, I had no problems coming through customs and getting a visa--free even! The representative from IIUM (International Islamic University of Malaysia) was not there when I arrived, as I had feared. The representative finally arrived after two hours, but looked right past me. I suppose he was expecting someone in hijab (Islamic headscarf). We waited till 6 pm for some other students from Comoros to arrive. (Ugh! long wait when you haven't slept, showered, or really eaten in a long time!) I felt guilty when I saw that each had only one suitcase, much smaller than mine and without wheels. I really could have brought less! They didn't seem to notice or think anything of it, but I did! Note: when in doubt, do NOT take it!
On the ride to campus, traffic was bad and the music (Justin Timberlake?!) loud. I started to feel a bit icky, from the heat and tiredness and hunger. We didn't arrive to campus until almost 8 pm. Then Sidiq told me to find a scarf and come along with him to a banquet for new students. I went, but didn't last. The thoughts going through my head became more negative as time wore on. I realized other factors (physical/emotional) were to blame and knew that they would go away. Specifically, I thought that I had gotten myself in over my head, that I wouldn't be able to survive in hijab for all those months in the heat---that I didn't want to. The banquet tables were segregated male and female. I suppose I knew that it would be like that, but frankly I don't want it to be!
I met a girl from Mauritius named Shukriah that night, who helped me call home to say I'd made it safely. The next day I stopped by to visit her and met Ferida (Tanzania) and Rahma (Kenya) and have spent the most time with these three.
I discovered that Shukriah wears niqab (full headscarf with face covered as well)--my first such friend! She is 27, married for four years now to a converted Frenchman she met online (not chatting, but looking for marriage), was unreligious until 18, and has worn niqab since just before she was married. I wandered if her husband had ever seen her before they were married and she told me that she sent pictures of herself to him while discussing marriage--it's a right within Islam to see what she looks like and all diseases/scars/etc must be disclosed (for both). I have found it pretty easy to ask her questions. It's disappointing that she will be leaving in the middle of November to join her husband in Saudi Arabia because she will be done with her Masters.
One thing I still do not feel satisfied with is the fact that women are not allowed to wear niqab while on Haj (pilgrimage to Mecca). If it is not allowed during the religiously obligated pilgrimage, why would one think it necessary? I still think it would be difficult to initiate a conversation with a woman in niqab that I do not already know. I mentioned being intimidated in this way to Shukriah, and she asked if I really needed to be able to see someone's mouth moving and said that you could still maintain eye contact. I suppose that's true and maybe these feelings will change as I have occasion to interact with fully covered women.
I had thought that putting hijab on would make me more shy and meek, but have found that that is not really the case. I am a bit self-conscious when I am on the bus to or from campus and have either just taken it off or put it back on in a bus full of people that see me do it. I wouldn't mind except that I worry that they think I am a bad Muslim, rather than a non-Muslim. Most people think that I am Bosnian because that is where most of the white Muslims on campus are from.
And on the second day
On Friday, I went to the Dang Wangi LRT stop and jalan jalaned (wandered around. Though not sure how to actually use it in an English sentence, hence the "ed".) I didn't take a map with me, assuming if I got terribly lost, I could always just take a taxi back to an LRT stop. I was trying to find Little India because it was Deepavali, the festival of light celebrating the triumph of good over evil. I knew I had reached the Indian area because the restaurants were all Indian and virtually everything was closed for the holiday. I rounded one corner and found the sidewalks FULL of men chatting and hanging out. It reminded me of the Corniche in Egypt on weekends. I walked in the street to avoid the crowd and braced myself for lots of attention. But it didn't come. Had I been in Egypt, there is no doubt that people would have approached me, trying to engage me in conversation, or at least said hello. Here that did not happen. I walked by and felt oddly lonely. In Egypt, it does get old to constantly be in the center of attention, but I think that is part of what I like about Cairo. I stick out because I am different than others and therefore a subject of curiosity.
That afternoon I stumbled upon The Little Egypt Cafe. There was the smell of apple-flavored sheesha smoke. The menu featured food I had gotten to know in Egypt; the bread was even flat and round in just the right way. As I approached the counter, the waiter called me asal--honey --not knowing I knew what it meant, and I smiled silently. Later, I used my old joke that I'm from Shubra, a crumbling Cairo neighborhood that no pyramid-seeking tourist would know. The joke had proven itself with taxi drivers and didn't fail to earn a laugh here either. Egypt in Malaysia, who'd have known?!
Saturday, meeting Chris
In the morning, I met Dr. Maliah, the assistant academic dean for Econ. She was surprised to see I was already wearing hijab and said that I was not required, but that it would make me stand out less and be respectful. Originally (before arriving and that first night) I had thought about saying I didn't want to wear it, but have realized that it will not be as bad as that first night led me to believe (and besides, classrooms are air-conditioned and I will only be on campus two days a week).
I met up with Chris, another Fulbrighter doing biomedical engineering lab work. We had lunch and then wandered around time, checking out an apartment and Chinatown. Then we ended up in Chow Kit, which is a bit grungier part of the city. This is how I thought Malaysia would be--fewer malls, more run-down. This was getting towards more of what I had expected and kind of what I wanted. The KL I've seen is a bit too normal. I want culture bursting at the seams! I don't want to be able to forget that I'm in another country!
In Chow Kit, I had some ABC, this drink made up of various jellied balls (green, pink, brown), crushed ice, blue syrup, and soymilk, served in a bag. This is what I was talking about: something unusual (though I didn't like it!). We ate at a restaurant where the waiters didn't speak English really and I desperately wished that I knew enough Malay to order and, of course, joke around. While lunch had cost me 30 RM, dinner was only 2.50! Quite a spectrum. ($1=3.8 RM)
Sunday
Today I met up with Nora, a Malaysian I was introduced to in Iowa City who studied at the UI). After being out for my first three days here (each day for 5-7 hours or so), I feel like I have gotten to see quite a bit of the city, which is pretty accessible. I have not really been as jetlagged as I imagined I would be. I do find myself getting tired early (10pm), but then having difficulty falling asleep and then getting up quite early (7 or 8 am), but I'm not as messed up as I was in Egypt.
Walking on the left or right of the street: no standard system. Chaos! Go in the LRT station through turnstiles but then must cross over to get to the up escalator.
I have been surprised to find that Malaysian women wear hijab but then also short sleeves. It is quite common, maybe not 50% of all the women I've seen, but a lot. In the airport I even saw a woman in a stewardess uniform with a slit in the front up to her knees wearing hijab. Or necks will be showing. Strange to see this.
There is no hot water in the hostel--just one knob that gives me a great shock each morning. Sign on door to bathroom in library indicating it is the women's is the outline of a woman wearing hijab! A posted sign says that men must not have hair past their collars, must tuck shirts in. And no smoking on campus because it is a bad habit and dangerous.
Back to today
So I just discovered that Rahma also wears niqab! I hadn't seen her out, so I didn't know. She put it on while in high school but stopped after one week, then would wear it sometimes and finally started wearing it all the time in 1993 or 1994. She's 26 and studied in Sudan for several years. Her father has four wives. Her mother is the third, but she lived with the second during secondary school. Her father was a businessman, so he had a wife in different areas. She has 14 brothers and 8 sisters. I asked if she would mind being married to a man with more than one wife and she said that she wanted to be the first, but would also like the man to have others because she likes a big family. She wants "a dozen" children herself!
Had corn-flavored ice cream. Ick.
October 28
Meeting at Suaram
I had lunch at Pizza Hut. I feel like that is excusable because a) I was craving pizza, b) I just got here and a lot is closed because of Ramadan, c) I had Malaysian style pizza (Royal Masala) that made my nose run because it was spicy, d) it wasn't McDonald's.
Today I meet with Cynthia Gabriel at Suaram, a human rights NGO. The office is far from the LRT, so I had to take a taxi. The area was very nice and affluent: large lawns with beautiful flowers and big houses with nice cars. The office itself was the office of an NGO: posters and piles of paper, a bit run-down with shared office space. I was told that my help would be welcomed and we discussed briefly what I could do. Given the distance, a lot of what I can do will most probably be from home, in the research and documentation division, perhaps helping edit the 2003 Human Rights Day Report. I could also research a specific law that violates human rights and its implications and use that to create an educational brochure. I'll be able to jump right in and take part in a seminar on torture on Saturday, taking notes of the speeches. There will be a lot of NGO representatives there, so it will also be a chance for me to branch out and meet people. Thankfully she acknowledged the importance of my being exposed to a variety of other organizations, not solely Suaram. The seminar will be about coordinating efforts to get Malaysia to sign the Convention Against Torture.
Showed photos to Shukriah, Ferida and Hudiea. At the one of me and Kristi at senior ball, dressed nicely but decisively non-conservative, Ferida exclaimed, "Free market economy!"
The night that I met Shurkiah, after telling Mom that I had arrived, I asked Shukriah for a hug because I felt I needed it. They make fun of me about it now. I realize that maybe it was a strange request to someone whose culture is different and whom I don’t know…But nonetheless, I needed a hug, asked for it and got it and now I’ve got these great new friends, so I guess it worked out in the end!
October 29
I went with Shukriah to pick up food for iftar (breaking of the fast) at the Egyptian restaurant on campus and I got to speak some Arabic! Since I was with Shukriah, I was conscious of wondering if she thought I was being flirtatious or overly friendly, so I guess I held back a little. He asked her a few questions and she seemed startled and perhaps uncomfortable, though maybe I am projecting that onto her.
I arranged to go see an apartment that said it was near an LRT station; when I called to ask, they said it was near the Ampang station, which I assumed was the one I knew. Once there, it was a 5 minute taxi drive or 20 minute walk. But when my taxi ride was not over after 10 minutes, I figured something was up. Turns out there's an LRT station on another line that is just called Ampang---Opps. The apartment was "eh" and the location faraway.
I decided to walk back to the station and set off in the direction I believed it to be. I asked a high school aged girl if I was right and she turned me around and pointed in the other direction. Well, after 15 minutes or so of walking by stuff I did not remember from the ride, I again was pretty sure there was some mistake. Though an occasional sign looked familiar, they must not have been one-of-a-kind signs, because I was certainly headed away from the wrong Ampang station. I was walking along a main road, past houses made of tin and obviously low-income. There was a lot of garbage in front, making them look like salvage yards and Cairo's Moqattam garbage collecting neighborhood immediately came to mind. The question of whether I would know if I was in an area I shouldn't be popped up, but immediately put it down. I think I know enough generally to access the situation and didn't think this qualified. It was along a main street with lots of traffic, there were occasional stores, and plenty of people about. I decided against asking a man if I was headed in the right direction and waited till I saw some women. They told me to take the bus in limited English, so I asked another woman who was standing waiting for it, spoke English, and turned out to be going to the same place I was.
It started raining so hard yesterday while I waited for the bus to come back to campus that it looked like the raindrops were those super-bouncy balls you get at the dentist's when you're a kid, springing back up into the air. The streets flooded a bit, which is strange considering they should be used to this. Now I know why there are these empty canals beside the roads around campus--gutters! And I noticed the awnings over many sidewalks that I had taken for granted before. I fell down wearing my flip-flops on the way to the library: no traction in those things! Functional in Cairo, but maybe not so much here. I nearly went down numerous other times as well.
October 30
Life of Pi is a great book. Especially to be reading having just arrived here, since it's about this guy who as a child tries to be a Hindu, Christian, and Muslim all at the same time. I have been thinking much more about why people believe; Tyler, Katrina and I were raised in the same family and yet Katrina is more religious than either of us. Why is that? Perhaps it is her social butterfly-ness, since religion provides a community to be part of, but there has to be more than that.
I was reading the part about faith in Towards Understanding Islam, the book Shukriah gave me (and inscribed: "May Allah make you taste the sweetness of Islam very soon"). According to Islam, there are four kinds of people. The third category struck me: Those who do not possess faith at all. "Even if their conduct is not bad and even if they are not spreading corruption and violence, they remain rebels and their apparent good deeds are of little value. The apparent good deeds of those who revolt against God cannot compensate for the gravity of the real wrongs, revolt and disobedience" (p. 30). That would mean that all the good that is done by people (me included) is useless. I can't accept that. The more I think about religion, the more I feel like my intellect/rational won't allow me to accept a God as rigid and unforgiving as that.
Also: "To formulate a complete and balanced code that conforms to God's pleasure merely using human reason is an extremely difficult task. Even if a man is equipped with the highest faculties of reason and intellect and possesses matchless wisdom and experience, the chances of his formulating the correct views on existence are slight" (p. 31). This reminded me of telling Alula (Eritrean refugee client) and his friend that I believed in God but not a specific religion exactly and that I just tried to be a good person and help others. They claimed that it didn't matter what I did; if I didn't believe Jesus was the son of God who died for our sins, I would go to hell.
On my walk back to the hostel this afternoon, I saw my first monkey! I looked closer and saw that it was chained to a tree, stalking back and forth, near where some construction is going on. He must be the pet of one of the workers.
At dinner, I learned to eat with my hand. I've done it before with bread, never rice. The key is to use the thumb to push and also retract with bottom fingers. Ferida says there has been research that shows that there are enzymes found in the fingers that help with digestion.
Shukriah asked me what I thought my purpose in life is...my first thought was to help others.
Her response: God is all powerful. He doesn't need our help. Our purpose goes back to why we were created: to praise/worship him.
Me: selfish God if that is the only reason. Egotistical.
Response: gave us free will to worship him or not, so not selfish.
Me: not convinced but conversation veered to something else anyway.
This conversation, if anything, made me only more convinced that I will not ever commit myself fully to a religion. I think I want to believe, but I don't. It's just not in me.
They say they have never doubted since they've know who their creator is and what he's all about. But how can that be? I just don't understand how people can believe, have so much faith. I mean, I feel the need for proof; barring that, I'll believe the outline, but can't make out the details. I guess that's the point, faith doesn't require evidence; I do though. Makes us a bit incompatible.
I learned today that if a person is never exposed/encountered Islam, it can't be held against you that you are not Muslim on Judgment Day. Makes me in a particularly bad position then. I had always assumed that I was close enough that if it was actually the “right" religion in the end, that I'd get in by close association. Looks like the opposite is true.
November 2
Wallet stolen; Visiting Nor's family
How did it become November already?
At the Conference on Torture yesterday (sponsored by Amnesty International and Suaram), my job was documentation, which is a glorified term for note-taking. When the conference was over, I got up to go to the bathroom and left my computer out on the table and my bag on the ground. Two Amnesty volunteers were right there, but I guess they were busy because people were stopping by the table and then they were cleaning up. When I got back, I noticed my black computer bag was gone and assumed someone had just moved it or that someone had taken it by mistake. I looked all over the place and saw lots of black bags that weren't mine.
Finally I looked out in the hall and under two skirted tables that had been set up for tea. I found my bag stashed under the table in front of the elevators, wallet missing. Someone must have casually grabbed it on the way out, taken the wallet and discarded the incriminating bag under the table. There would have been lots of people around between where I left my bag and where I found it, but I guess nobody would have known to notice. The situation makes it seem that it must have been one of the audience members, not hotel staff. Who would have thought that a person interested in ending torture and a champion of human rights would do such a thing? If it were someone who was starving and didn't have money to buy food, then I don't think I'd mind as much. But this person was surely not in that category. He (or she) must have been watching me. There were plenty of other bags lying about. Shukriah's response was, see now why we cut off a thief's hand, he never would have done such a thing if that was the punishment. I guess more than anything, I feel stupid for being so careless and letting my guard down. Plus, I had a lot of money in my wallet because I was going to buy a cell phone (called a mobile in Egypt, but handphone here). I tried to calm myself by putting things in perspective: at least I'd never been tortured, right? It was just a monetary lose and a lesson to learn that I could easily walk away from unharmed.
Today I went to Nor's in-laws (I was introduced to Nor by mutual friends; she is studying at the UI and was very helpful in answering all my questions and beginning to learn the language!). I didn't realize that it would be such a big family! There were 14 of us at dinner at least, plus three little girls. I had problems keeping everyone straight. Actually, I could only tell you two and a half names at this point: Hamiza, Hafiza (?) and Deela. I ate with my hands; good thing that I had practice a few nights ago! I didn't find the food particularly spicy; I don't know if that was planned on their part or not. When I went to leave, not only did I get a ride back to campus, but an escort car as well! 8 adults and 1 kid accompanied me!
During dinner, the father noticed that I was drinking between bites and said Malays either drink or eat, but no mixing. I suppose it's like the warm water logic--better for digestion.
Before dinner, I went with two of the younger sisters to the Ramadan Bazaar. It was the first time that I really sort of felt like I was in another country! KL is a big city and I wasn't really getting a real taste of the aspects of Malaysia that make it different, besides the occasional temple, the snippets of other languages I'd hear, the spicy food I would avoid. At the Bazaar, I was definitely a sight that people noticed, putting me back in my element by my being out of my element. When I got back to the house, Nor was on the phone to talk with me from the US because she knew I was going there at that time!
I realized today when I was looking for an internet place that I think my previous belief of having found Little India on the first day was wrong. I think I saw it today.
November 3
The Police Report
Today I filed a police report with the help of a woman from the Fulbright office. We waited for maybe half an hour before it was our turn. The officer was young and didn't speak English, so I'm glad that Jenny was there. He took forever, looking around, not asking for help when he needed it (he didn't know how to save or print), generally unrushed. It drove me crazy! The other woman doing reports got through at least 3 in the time it took us to get ours done. Jenny claimed the initial thing he wrote wasn't even in complete sentences in Malay and that it was wrong. She finally wrote it all down, word for word for him to copy (letter by painfully slow letter). I wanted to jump over the table and do it myself. Definitely trying on my patience. I can say without a doubt that two of my biggest pet peeves are incompetence and inefficiencies. Also, being told obvious advice (like how I have to be careful after having already lost my wallet! Duh is the only response.) After we finally got the report done, we had to go across the hall and get it stamped--and pay! It is absurd that you should have to pay to file a police report (even if only 2 RM). You have to go through so much hassle anyway, no wonder no one reports anything.
Dr. McCloud advised us to not tell taxi drivers--Malay that is--that we are Americans. He said it was better to say Canadian. I don't take taxis enough for this to probably be an issue anyway. But to think that I could do it perfectly fine in Cairo and then have to change here is contrary to my thinking. Denial isn't just a river in Egypt as they say. I suppose safe is better than sorry, but I feel an aversion to lying. Is it a feeling of, dare I say, patriotism? Not in the sense that I'm proud of the US now, but that I don't want to deny that is where I am from; if anything, to show that good people do hail from the big, evil monster known as the United States.
November 4
First Day of School
First up, Foundations of Islamic Economics. Young prof who stressed the importance of praying five times a day. At one point he asked if there were any non-Muslims; I was the only person to raise my hand. Then, if there were any non-Malays; once again, I was the only one. Next was Dr. Nasim's Economics of Zakat (religiously obligated tithe on wealth to be used to help the poor). This afternoon I had Islamic Worldview, and the prof reminded me of Yoda from Star Wars. He was short, with a galibiyya and turban on. The hair that was visible was white but unnaturally orange at the end. And most notable, he spoke so so so slowly. I nearly forgot how a sentence began before he managed to finish it. I've actually decided not to take this class. I'm afraid I'll get Islam-ed out.
The first day of Ramadan
I arrived to Malaysia on Thursday last week (October 23) and have been keeping notes about my impressions, thoughts, surprises, and feelings. I'm afraid this first part will be a little disjointed because of that, but hope to keep more regular recordings from here on out.
I suppose I should begin with the beginning. As my plane approached Kuala Lumpur, I noticed the clouds. Then, the green and the changes in elevation of the land. It was a big difference from the clear skies, flat, yellow/brown world of Cairo. Once landed, I had no problems coming through customs and getting a visa--free even! The representative from IIUM (International Islamic University of Malaysia) was not there when I arrived, as I had feared. The representative finally arrived after two hours, but looked right past me. I suppose he was expecting someone in hijab (Islamic headscarf). We waited till 6 pm for some other students from Comoros to arrive. (Ugh! long wait when you haven't slept, showered, or really eaten in a long time!) I felt guilty when I saw that each had only one suitcase, much smaller than mine and without wheels. I really could have brought less! They didn't seem to notice or think anything of it, but I did! Note: when in doubt, do NOT take it!
On the ride to campus, traffic was bad and the music (Justin Timberlake?!) loud. I started to feel a bit icky, from the heat and tiredness and hunger. We didn't arrive to campus until almost 8 pm. Then Sidiq told me to find a scarf and come along with him to a banquet for new students. I went, but didn't last. The thoughts going through my head became more negative as time wore on. I realized other factors (physical/emotional) were to blame and knew that they would go away. Specifically, I thought that I had gotten myself in over my head, that I wouldn't be able to survive in hijab for all those months in the heat---that I didn't want to. The banquet tables were segregated male and female. I suppose I knew that it would be like that, but frankly I don't want it to be!
I met a girl from Mauritius named Shukriah that night, who helped me call home to say I'd made it safely. The next day I stopped by to visit her and met Ferida (Tanzania) and Rahma (Kenya) and have spent the most time with these three.
I discovered that Shukriah wears niqab (full headscarf with face covered as well)--my first such friend! She is 27, married for four years now to a converted Frenchman she met online (not chatting, but looking for marriage), was unreligious until 18, and has worn niqab since just before she was married. I wandered if her husband had ever seen her before they were married and she told me that she sent pictures of herself to him while discussing marriage--it's a right within Islam to see what she looks like and all diseases/scars/etc must be disclosed (for both). I have found it pretty easy to ask her questions. It's disappointing that she will be leaving in the middle of November to join her husband in Saudi Arabia because she will be done with her Masters.
One thing I still do not feel satisfied with is the fact that women are not allowed to wear niqab while on Haj (pilgrimage to Mecca). If it is not allowed during the religiously obligated pilgrimage, why would one think it necessary? I still think it would be difficult to initiate a conversation with a woman in niqab that I do not already know. I mentioned being intimidated in this way to Shukriah, and she asked if I really needed to be able to see someone's mouth moving and said that you could still maintain eye contact. I suppose that's true and maybe these feelings will change as I have occasion to interact with fully covered women.
I had thought that putting hijab on would make me more shy and meek, but have found that that is not really the case. I am a bit self-conscious when I am on the bus to or from campus and have either just taken it off or put it back on in a bus full of people that see me do it. I wouldn't mind except that I worry that they think I am a bad Muslim, rather than a non-Muslim. Most people think that I am Bosnian because that is where most of the white Muslims on campus are from.
And on the second day
On Friday, I went to the Dang Wangi LRT stop and jalan jalaned (wandered around. Though not sure how to actually use it in an English sentence, hence the "ed".) I didn't take a map with me, assuming if I got terribly lost, I could always just take a taxi back to an LRT stop. I was trying to find Little India because it was Deepavali, the festival of light celebrating the triumph of good over evil. I knew I had reached the Indian area because the restaurants were all Indian and virtually everything was closed for the holiday. I rounded one corner and found the sidewalks FULL of men chatting and hanging out. It reminded me of the Corniche in Egypt on weekends. I walked in the street to avoid the crowd and braced myself for lots of attention. But it didn't come. Had I been in Egypt, there is no doubt that people would have approached me, trying to engage me in conversation, or at least said hello. Here that did not happen. I walked by and felt oddly lonely. In Egypt, it does get old to constantly be in the center of attention, but I think that is part of what I like about Cairo. I stick out because I am different than others and therefore a subject of curiosity.
That afternoon I stumbled upon The Little Egypt Cafe. There was the smell of apple-flavored sheesha smoke. The menu featured food I had gotten to know in Egypt; the bread was even flat and round in just the right way. As I approached the counter, the waiter called me asal--honey --not knowing I knew what it meant, and I smiled silently. Later, I used my old joke that I'm from Shubra, a crumbling Cairo neighborhood that no pyramid-seeking tourist would know. The joke had proven itself with taxi drivers and didn't fail to earn a laugh here either. Egypt in Malaysia, who'd have known?!
Saturday, meeting Chris
In the morning, I met Dr. Maliah, the assistant academic dean for Econ. She was surprised to see I was already wearing hijab and said that I was not required, but that it would make me stand out less and be respectful. Originally (before arriving and that first night) I had thought about saying I didn't want to wear it, but have realized that it will not be as bad as that first night led me to believe (and besides, classrooms are air-conditioned and I will only be on campus two days a week).
I met up with Chris, another Fulbrighter doing biomedical engineering lab work. We had lunch and then wandered around time, checking out an apartment and Chinatown. Then we ended up in Chow Kit, which is a bit grungier part of the city. This is how I thought Malaysia would be--fewer malls, more run-down. This was getting towards more of what I had expected and kind of what I wanted. The KL I've seen is a bit too normal. I want culture bursting at the seams! I don't want to be able to forget that I'm in another country!
In Chow Kit, I had some ABC, this drink made up of various jellied balls (green, pink, brown), crushed ice, blue syrup, and soymilk, served in a bag. This is what I was talking about: something unusual (though I didn't like it!). We ate at a restaurant where the waiters didn't speak English really and I desperately wished that I knew enough Malay to order and, of course, joke around. While lunch had cost me 30 RM, dinner was only 2.50! Quite a spectrum. ($1=3.8 RM)
Sunday
Today I met up with Nora, a Malaysian I was introduced to in Iowa City who studied at the UI). After being out for my first three days here (each day for 5-7 hours or so), I feel like I have gotten to see quite a bit of the city, which is pretty accessible. I have not really been as jetlagged as I imagined I would be. I do find myself getting tired early (10pm), but then having difficulty falling asleep and then getting up quite early (7 or 8 am), but I'm not as messed up as I was in Egypt.
Walking on the left or right of the street: no standard system. Chaos! Go in the LRT station through turnstiles but then must cross over to get to the up escalator.
I have been surprised to find that Malaysian women wear hijab but then also short sleeves. It is quite common, maybe not 50% of all the women I've seen, but a lot. In the airport I even saw a woman in a stewardess uniform with a slit in the front up to her knees wearing hijab. Or necks will be showing. Strange to see this.
There is no hot water in the hostel--just one knob that gives me a great shock each morning. Sign on door to bathroom in library indicating it is the women's is the outline of a woman wearing hijab! A posted sign says that men must not have hair past their collars, must tuck shirts in. And no smoking on campus because it is a bad habit and dangerous.
Back to today
So I just discovered that Rahma also wears niqab! I hadn't seen her out, so I didn't know. She put it on while in high school but stopped after one week, then would wear it sometimes and finally started wearing it all the time in 1993 or 1994. She's 26 and studied in Sudan for several years. Her father has four wives. Her mother is the third, but she lived with the second during secondary school. Her father was a businessman, so he had a wife in different areas. She has 14 brothers and 8 sisters. I asked if she would mind being married to a man with more than one wife and she said that she wanted to be the first, but would also like the man to have others because she likes a big family. She wants "a dozen" children herself!
Had corn-flavored ice cream. Ick.
October 28
Meeting at Suaram
I had lunch at Pizza Hut. I feel like that is excusable because a) I was craving pizza, b) I just got here and a lot is closed because of Ramadan, c) I had Malaysian style pizza (Royal Masala) that made my nose run because it was spicy, d) it wasn't McDonald's.
Today I meet with Cynthia Gabriel at Suaram, a human rights NGO. The office is far from the LRT, so I had to take a taxi. The area was very nice and affluent: large lawns with beautiful flowers and big houses with nice cars. The office itself was the office of an NGO: posters and piles of paper, a bit run-down with shared office space. I was told that my help would be welcomed and we discussed briefly what I could do. Given the distance, a lot of what I can do will most probably be from home, in the research and documentation division, perhaps helping edit the 2003 Human Rights Day Report. I could also research a specific law that violates human rights and its implications and use that to create an educational brochure. I'll be able to jump right in and take part in a seminar on torture on Saturday, taking notes of the speeches. There will be a lot of NGO representatives there, so it will also be a chance for me to branch out and meet people. Thankfully she acknowledged the importance of my being exposed to a variety of other organizations, not solely Suaram. The seminar will be about coordinating efforts to get Malaysia to sign the Convention Against Torture.
Showed photos to Shukriah, Ferida and Hudiea. At the one of me and Kristi at senior ball, dressed nicely but decisively non-conservative, Ferida exclaimed, "Free market economy!"
The night that I met Shurkiah, after telling Mom that I had arrived, I asked Shukriah for a hug because I felt I needed it. They make fun of me about it now. I realize that maybe it was a strange request to someone whose culture is different and whom I don’t know…But nonetheless, I needed a hug, asked for it and got it and now I’ve got these great new friends, so I guess it worked out in the end!
October 29
I went with Shukriah to pick up food for iftar (breaking of the fast) at the Egyptian restaurant on campus and I got to speak some Arabic! Since I was with Shukriah, I was conscious of wondering if she thought I was being flirtatious or overly friendly, so I guess I held back a little. He asked her a few questions and she seemed startled and perhaps uncomfortable, though maybe I am projecting that onto her.
I arranged to go see an apartment that said it was near an LRT station; when I called to ask, they said it was near the Ampang station, which I assumed was the one I knew. Once there, it was a 5 minute taxi drive or 20 minute walk. But when my taxi ride was not over after 10 minutes, I figured something was up. Turns out there's an LRT station on another line that is just called Ampang---Opps. The apartment was "eh" and the location faraway.
I decided to walk back to the station and set off in the direction I believed it to be. I asked a high school aged girl if I was right and she turned me around and pointed in the other direction. Well, after 15 minutes or so of walking by stuff I did not remember from the ride, I again was pretty sure there was some mistake. Though an occasional sign looked familiar, they must not have been one-of-a-kind signs, because I was certainly headed away from the wrong Ampang station. I was walking along a main road, past houses made of tin and obviously low-income. There was a lot of garbage in front, making them look like salvage yards and Cairo's Moqattam garbage collecting neighborhood immediately came to mind. The question of whether I would know if I was in an area I shouldn't be popped up, but immediately put it down. I think I know enough generally to access the situation and didn't think this qualified. It was along a main street with lots of traffic, there were occasional stores, and plenty of people about. I decided against asking a man if I was headed in the right direction and waited till I saw some women. They told me to take the bus in limited English, so I asked another woman who was standing waiting for it, spoke English, and turned out to be going to the same place I was.
It started raining so hard yesterday while I waited for the bus to come back to campus that it looked like the raindrops were those super-bouncy balls you get at the dentist's when you're a kid, springing back up into the air. The streets flooded a bit, which is strange considering they should be used to this. Now I know why there are these empty canals beside the roads around campus--gutters! And I noticed the awnings over many sidewalks that I had taken for granted before. I fell down wearing my flip-flops on the way to the library: no traction in those things! Functional in Cairo, but maybe not so much here. I nearly went down numerous other times as well.
October 30
Life of Pi is a great book. Especially to be reading having just arrived here, since it's about this guy who as a child tries to be a Hindu, Christian, and Muslim all at the same time. I have been thinking much more about why people believe; Tyler, Katrina and I were raised in the same family and yet Katrina is more religious than either of us. Why is that? Perhaps it is her social butterfly-ness, since religion provides a community to be part of, but there has to be more than that.
I was reading the part about faith in Towards Understanding Islam, the book Shukriah gave me (and inscribed: "May Allah make you taste the sweetness of Islam very soon"). According to Islam, there are four kinds of people. The third category struck me: Those who do not possess faith at all. "Even if their conduct is not bad and even if they are not spreading corruption and violence, they remain rebels and their apparent good deeds are of little value. The apparent good deeds of those who revolt against God cannot compensate for the gravity of the real wrongs, revolt and disobedience" (p. 30). That would mean that all the good that is done by people (me included) is useless. I can't accept that. The more I think about religion, the more I feel like my intellect/rational won't allow me to accept a God as rigid and unforgiving as that.
Also: "To formulate a complete and balanced code that conforms to God's pleasure merely using human reason is an extremely difficult task. Even if a man is equipped with the highest faculties of reason and intellect and possesses matchless wisdom and experience, the chances of his formulating the correct views on existence are slight" (p. 31). This reminded me of telling Alula (Eritrean refugee client) and his friend that I believed in God but not a specific religion exactly and that I just tried to be a good person and help others. They claimed that it didn't matter what I did; if I didn't believe Jesus was the son of God who died for our sins, I would go to hell.
On my walk back to the hostel this afternoon, I saw my first monkey! I looked closer and saw that it was chained to a tree, stalking back and forth, near where some construction is going on. He must be the pet of one of the workers.
At dinner, I learned to eat with my hand. I've done it before with bread, never rice. The key is to use the thumb to push and also retract with bottom fingers. Ferida says there has been research that shows that there are enzymes found in the fingers that help with digestion.
Shukriah asked me what I thought my purpose in life is...my first thought was to help others.
Her response: God is all powerful. He doesn't need our help. Our purpose goes back to why we were created: to praise/worship him.
Me: selfish God if that is the only reason. Egotistical.
Response: gave us free will to worship him or not, so not selfish.
Me: not convinced but conversation veered to something else anyway.
This conversation, if anything, made me only more convinced that I will not ever commit myself fully to a religion. I think I want to believe, but I don't. It's just not in me.
They say they have never doubted since they've know who their creator is and what he's all about. But how can that be? I just don't understand how people can believe, have so much faith. I mean, I feel the need for proof; barring that, I'll believe the outline, but can't make out the details. I guess that's the point, faith doesn't require evidence; I do though. Makes us a bit incompatible.
I learned today that if a person is never exposed/encountered Islam, it can't be held against you that you are not Muslim on Judgment Day. Makes me in a particularly bad position then. I had always assumed that I was close enough that if it was actually the “right" religion in the end, that I'd get in by close association. Looks like the opposite is true.
November 2
Wallet stolen; Visiting Nor's family
How did it become November already?
At the Conference on Torture yesterday (sponsored by Amnesty International and Suaram), my job was documentation, which is a glorified term for note-taking. When the conference was over, I got up to go to the bathroom and left my computer out on the table and my bag on the ground. Two Amnesty volunteers were right there, but I guess they were busy because people were stopping by the table and then they were cleaning up. When I got back, I noticed my black computer bag was gone and assumed someone had just moved it or that someone had taken it by mistake. I looked all over the place and saw lots of black bags that weren't mine.
Finally I looked out in the hall and under two skirted tables that had been set up for tea. I found my bag stashed under the table in front of the elevators, wallet missing. Someone must have casually grabbed it on the way out, taken the wallet and discarded the incriminating bag under the table. There would have been lots of people around between where I left my bag and where I found it, but I guess nobody would have known to notice. The situation makes it seem that it must have been one of the audience members, not hotel staff. Who would have thought that a person interested in ending torture and a champion of human rights would do such a thing? If it were someone who was starving and didn't have money to buy food, then I don't think I'd mind as much. But this person was surely not in that category. He (or she) must have been watching me. There were plenty of other bags lying about. Shukriah's response was, see now why we cut off a thief's hand, he never would have done such a thing if that was the punishment. I guess more than anything, I feel stupid for being so careless and letting my guard down. Plus, I had a lot of money in my wallet because I was going to buy a cell phone (called a mobile in Egypt, but handphone here). I tried to calm myself by putting things in perspective: at least I'd never been tortured, right? It was just a monetary lose and a lesson to learn that I could easily walk away from unharmed.
Today I went to Nor's in-laws (I was introduced to Nor by mutual friends; she is studying at the UI and was very helpful in answering all my questions and beginning to learn the language!). I didn't realize that it would be such a big family! There were 14 of us at dinner at least, plus three little girls. I had problems keeping everyone straight. Actually, I could only tell you two and a half names at this point: Hamiza, Hafiza (?) and Deela. I ate with my hands; good thing that I had practice a few nights ago! I didn't find the food particularly spicy; I don't know if that was planned on their part or not. When I went to leave, not only did I get a ride back to campus, but an escort car as well! 8 adults and 1 kid accompanied me!
During dinner, the father noticed that I was drinking between bites and said Malays either drink or eat, but no mixing. I suppose it's like the warm water logic--better for digestion.
Before dinner, I went with two of the younger sisters to the Ramadan Bazaar. It was the first time that I really sort of felt like I was in another country! KL is a big city and I wasn't really getting a real taste of the aspects of Malaysia that make it different, besides the occasional temple, the snippets of other languages I'd hear, the spicy food I would avoid. At the Bazaar, I was definitely a sight that people noticed, putting me back in my element by my being out of my element. When I got back to the house, Nor was on the phone to talk with me from the US because she knew I was going there at that time!
I realized today when I was looking for an internet place that I think my previous belief of having found Little India on the first day was wrong. I think I saw it today.
November 3
The Police Report
Today I filed a police report with the help of a woman from the Fulbright office. We waited for maybe half an hour before it was our turn. The officer was young and didn't speak English, so I'm glad that Jenny was there. He took forever, looking around, not asking for help when he needed it (he didn't know how to save or print), generally unrushed. It drove me crazy! The other woman doing reports got through at least 3 in the time it took us to get ours done. Jenny claimed the initial thing he wrote wasn't even in complete sentences in Malay and that it was wrong. She finally wrote it all down, word for word for him to copy (letter by painfully slow letter). I wanted to jump over the table and do it myself. Definitely trying on my patience. I can say without a doubt that two of my biggest pet peeves are incompetence and inefficiencies. Also, being told obvious advice (like how I have to be careful after having already lost my wallet! Duh is the only response.) After we finally got the report done, we had to go across the hall and get it stamped--and pay! It is absurd that you should have to pay to file a police report (even if only 2 RM). You have to go through so much hassle anyway, no wonder no one reports anything.
Dr. McCloud advised us to not tell taxi drivers--Malay that is--that we are Americans. He said it was better to say Canadian. I don't take taxis enough for this to probably be an issue anyway. But to think that I could do it perfectly fine in Cairo and then have to change here is contrary to my thinking. Denial isn't just a river in Egypt as they say. I suppose safe is better than sorry, but I feel an aversion to lying. Is it a feeling of, dare I say, patriotism? Not in the sense that I'm proud of the US now, but that I don't want to deny that is where I am from; if anything, to show that good people do hail from the big, evil monster known as the United States.
November 4
First Day of School
First up, Foundations of Islamic Economics. Young prof who stressed the importance of praying five times a day. At one point he asked if there were any non-Muslims; I was the only person to raise my hand. Then, if there were any non-Malays; once again, I was the only one. Next was Dr. Nasim's Economics of Zakat (religiously obligated tithe on wealth to be used to help the poor). This afternoon I had Islamic Worldview, and the prof reminded me of Yoda from Star Wars. He was short, with a galibiyya and turban on. The hair that was visible was white but unnaturally orange at the end. And most notable, he spoke so so so slowly. I nearly forgot how a sentence began before he managed to finish it. I've actually decided not to take this class. I'm afraid I'll get Islam-ed out.
