Piccies of the kids

Haven't post any photo for quite some time now...
Here are some of 5 month old Humaidi...






And some of 2 year old Huzaifah...

Cerita ceriti Ramadhan

Some real life stories...

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“I think my tarawih was not sah last night…”

“Huh?”

“Just as I gave the final salam in the eight rakaat, I realized that the guy next to me might not be a guy after all…”

“Why so?”

“He had breasts”

“You must be joking!”

“No, I’m serious. I believed I must had made some skin-to-skin contact with him earlier on – so my solat habis lah…”

“Oohhh…”

“I wish penkids could at least forgo their ‘male’ identity when they go for tarawih… Menyusahkan betul lah…”

#####

The lady who looked to be in her forties insisted on taking my space for her sunat rawatib.

“Sunat solat sunat kat tempat lain dari solat wajib,” she declared, a fact which I knew did not include shoving other people unnecessarily in a crowded place, but I smiled politely as I moved to fill a gap in the saf right behind us..

Later, she quickly fold her telekung during the zikir after solat witir, and put on a glitzy black selendang, not covering her aurat quite properly…

I guess sometimes we tend to put priorities in the wrong order…

#####

The groundwork for tarawih had been laid when I was around 5 years old as Tok made me followed her to the nearby surau .

Thus, I used to be one of the kids at the surau who tried to perform solat tarawih up to the 8^th rakaat and then went out the mosque to join my friends playing with sparkler and firecracker. The keyword is “tried” - because often we did not pray properly; waited until the last moment possible before the Imam went down for ruku’ to join the solat, and sometimes playfully elbowing or pulling the neighbor’s telekung. One or the other girl, often the more senior one, would hissed rather fiercely, as a warning to stop the elbowing, which would always resulted in making others broke into giggles. With the end of every two rakaat, some nenek or makcik would look sternly at us, as a sign of their disapproval with the small commotion. But some would just smile at us as we put on innocent look as though we formed no part of the hullabaloo.

But what initially started as a gathering for “bunga api” session and good “moreh” for supper, later became a gathering to quietly challenge each other strength as we competed to perform more rakaat – and properly too, no more elbowing and giggling – reserving the right to bombard the “enemy” area with different kinds of fire crackers only after solat tarawih ended.

And as we grew older, there were no more bunga api session, leaving just the serious business of the solat itself. (As the moreh too became increasingly watered down and not as yummilicious as it used to be ages ago)

#####

It is kind of exhausting, to tidy everything up after the ruckus Huzaifah caused on the ladies floor while I prayed. Books and toys scattering everywhere, water splashes here and there, and once he even left his diaper in the middle of the mosque causing me to lose concentration in my solat, worried that he would pee somewhere without his diapers on.
But I am thankful that I get to perform solat tarawih at the mosque
Chances are slim for women with small children with no maid to be able to join the tarawih congregation at the mosque or surau in Malaysia. A calmly sleeping baby in a bouncer could probably be tolerated by the jemaah, but not an energetic toddler or a baby who howls his frustration from time to time as he vigorously learn how to crawl.

It is kind of frustrating not having the option to go to Pasar Ramadhan, but to think up of menu for iftar almost daily – not only for hubby and me – but to suit the taste bud of the temporary Pakistani Imam and his Indian companion who would be staying here until Eid.
But I am thankful that I get to be here for Ramadhan gatherings which had been scheduled at the mosque, as it means I could get a rest from cooking during the weekends.
While I do miss Pasar Ramadhan, I get to eat other people’s cooking minus the urge to splurge during public iftar sessions here. Not to mention tasting delicacies not found in Malaysia too, as we are often introduced to Indian/Pakistani sweets and curries. I mean, how many of us have heard of nihari and paya (not the swamp) in Malaysia?

It is kind of tiring having to cook –
but hey, it definitely beats having porridge almost everyday like we did last year because I was pregnant and could not cook properly.

It is kind of weird following an Imam performing solat witir in Hanafi style –
but it also means I get to learn something new.
When I was in UK, I learned that my girlfriends from Hanafi sect do not have to cover their feet the way we in Syafie have to, during solat. Then, last year I learned from a Turkish Kurd that strict Hanafi followers are not allowed to eat seafood apart from fish – no prawns, no crustaceans, etc – which limit their choice whenever they want to eat out in Japan. And this year – I learned that not only people in Hanafi recite doa qunut during witir right from the very beginning of Ramadhan, they adopt different style of reading the qunut too. Instead of reciting qunut after ruku’, the Imam would takbir right after finishing the surah in the last rakaat, read the qunut quietly (without raising their hands), and then takbir for ruku’. So far, I had missed the qunut twice, accidentally went down for ruku’ upon hearing the first takbir, and had to wait for quite some time before being able to join the jemaah standing up straight again. Oopss.

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There's a gathering scheduled this weekend by some Malaysian students - so all Muslimah are welcome to join.

(A note to Aida-kyushu - feel free to get my number from Kak lela. Or you can email me at aezack105@softbank.ne.jp. Mari manfaatkan free Softbank-to-Softbank calls...)

All-in-one makan-makan session

It happened quite accidentally. At the back of our minds – we had already thought of hosting some makan-makan session… a sayonara dinner for friends who are graduating this year before they return to Malaysia, a Marhaban Ramadhan night even maybe a small do to celebrate Huzaifah’s birthday. Then, last week, when we attended a sayonara bbq session in Yahashira organized by the Malaysians living in Ichikawa Ono, we started asking around, and Sunday 9^th September sounded good for most of those we intended to invite for makan-makan. Just a day after Huzaifah’s second birthday, and the last weekend before Ramadhan, and hubby – still high from his first “bakar sate” experience - announced that we were going to have another “bakar sate” night… It also turned out to be the 13^th anniversary of Atoque and Kak Da’s wedding – so we called it an all-in-one makan-makan night…

Pokcik, Atoque, Daud and Tan were the first Malaysians (apart from Faizly, Apid and Fahmi who used to stay in the same hostel with me) that I met when I first arrived. Daud was the first sempai who introduced me to Tenya and Saizeriya, and his wife Sarina, who was then 5 months pregnant with their son Riaz, was the first who introduced me to Japanese style “ikan kering”. Atoque almost single handedly assisted me when I moved from Komaba to Gyotoku, and even got a traffic summon in the process. Pokcik helped organizing the Quran class for hubby to teach in Ichikawa Ono as well as some tazkirah sessions in Hira Mosque in Gyotoku. Tan, the Malaysian sempai in my zemi, had been generous with hand-me-down baby furniture – his wife Akiko has decided that they have enough kids (two boys - Kenji and Shouji), so they gave us their baby cot and swinging high chair which are actually meant for Humaidi but currently are often conquered by Huzaifah. Since I enrolled in Waseda at the same time with them – although only as a research student – there’s a kind of strong affinity that I feel towards them. Not the kind of relationship that I had with Kamarol – who graduated in March and now a Tuan Nazir, but I know I am going to miss them (and their respective wives) once they return to Malaysia. That was one of the reasons I insisted on hosting a sayonara dinner for them.

We did not really intend to have a birthday bash for Huzaifah – but since it was on a weekend – we thought, why not? So, hubby ordered a cake from Kak Ita, who’s really good in making cakes and desserts, in the process, extending our invitation to her family as well as their neighbour, Syah and family for the makan-makan. And since Kak Yati, the PA for Human Resource Department in the Malaysian Embassy (who had hosted a dinner for Mak and company when the rombongan Cik Kiah was in Tokyo last year) is also scheduled to return to Malaysia this month, we invited her too. And then, I accidentally met one Bibik who was on the way to visit her sister and niece staying not that far from the mosque at the bus stand, I invited them as well. And since Syahril’s daughter Nuha is only 3 days older than Huzaifah, we thought it would be nice to invite them over too. Syafiq and Basharan topped the list – not merely as guests, but more as assistants. However, as it turned out, Syafiq had decided to return to Malaysia on the 8^th, so while he helped a lot during the perap and cucuk sate session, he missed the real “bakar sate” session. He assured us that we had nothing to worry about since he could go to a lot of places to enjoy the real McCoy back in Malaysia…

All in all we had 6 kg of boneless chicken, 2 kg of boneless beef and 2 kg of boneless mutton transformed into about 450 sticks of satay. I prepared some nasi goreng and peach pudding on the side, but on the day itself, we got additional food contribution – spaghetti bolognaise from Nor (Syah’s wife), korokke (Japanese croquette) from our Indonesian neighbor, a marble cake with "13 Tahun" written on it from Kak Da, a yummilicious banana caramel cake from Kak Normah (who, with his son Arham accompanied Kak Yati) and a huge rectangular birthday cake featuring a boy in a racing car from Kak Ita and Pokcik’s family. And we also prepared some individually wrapped goodies for the kids – 2 sticks of Umai Bo (one each of Cheese and Vegetable Salad flavors), a packet of Fujiya Home Pie and a balloon – plus lots of ice lollies. The kids have fun with soap bubbles too. I bought some for Huzaifah when we came back from the bbq in Yahashira, but he didn’t quite enjoyed our one-on-one bubbles blowing session the way he seemed to do when the Nihonjin kids were blowing theirs on the bbq site. It was good to note that he enjoyed it tremendously that night as the older kids blew the bubbles in the cramped stairways (so that they didn’t get in the way with the “bakar sate” operation at the rooftop, while not exposing Huzaifah to the danger of playing in the car parking area next to the mosque, where the bigger boys were playing)

Kak Mai led the candle-blowing session for Huzaifah as well as the "Allah Selamatkan Kamu" singing session. I put him in a brand new suit of baju melayu, but it was too large for him, so it wasn't long before Huzaifah could be seen donning just the baju melayu top and his diapers pants. I tried making him wore the pants again, but after he repeatedly took it off right after I put it back, I stopped trying and just let him be. I figured so long as he came no where too near the bbq stand, he should be okay, and he seemed to be fine just as he was.

I must say that it was rather exhausting – notwithstanding that the preparation was done in several stages. Tuesday was for buying stuff. When I bought the chicken and beef – the seller in Shin Okubo was surprised when I said that I would carry my purchases back home instead of having them couriered like I normally do. “Omoin da…” the seller noted, as I packed them in my backpack to which I replied “So desune…” just as I finished packing and started carrying the bag on my back. I brought them home first before going out again to buy onions, gingers, snacks etc. Together with hubby and Syafiq, we started working on marinating the meat on Wednesday as well as “cucuk” the chicken and beef satay. Drinks, paper plates, paper cups and plastic cutleries were bought on Friday, the same day Syafiq bought cucumbers. Saturday, Basharan and Hadian assisted hubby in marinating and “cucuk” the mutton satay, while I made the pudding, boiled instant nasi himpit, and later, packed the goodies for kids. Late Saturday night, Basharan, Hadian and hubby started moving needed furniture to the rooftop – bbq stands, tables, chairs, etc. Sunday – morning I started working on kuah kacang, hubby started to defrost the frozen sate by noon, diced the nasi himpit and sliced the cucumbers, and early evening I made nasi goreng, after which hubby started to get the charcoal ready for “bakar sate”. When the first guests started to show up at around 5 o’clock, we were more than ready to receive them…

We didn’t have proper lighting on the rooftop at night – but I guess that didn’t hinder our guests from enjoying themselves. The weather was good, alhamdulillah – just cool enough without being either too cold or too hot. The view was okay – after all we are not really in the middle of Tokyo. The food was good, even if I say so – albeit merely served in disposable paper plates (hubby at first thought that we might use some china belonging to the mosque, to which I immediately disagreed – who was going to help us with the washing up?). But most importantly, the crowd that turned out that night was people I enjoy talking to and being with – and they didn’t seem to mind being in the dark or holding paper plates or using plastic cutleries that much anyway. In fact, many of them said that we should do this again – the ambience was good, the food was simple yet taste good (the nasi goreng erred on the spicy side, but the sate was a huge hit), the adults could enjoy light banters while the kids had a change of play area. The kids too enjoyed the last part of “baker sate”, enthusiastically cried out “Irrashaimase” in the manner akin to a Nihonjin shopkeeper, made believing that they were selling the satay for a price ranging from 100 yen (“Ehh? Iranai. Takai daa..”) to 10 yen (“Jaa… 10 pon onegai shimasu…”) a piece.

The party – if one could call it that – lasted until around 10 o’clock, when the last of our guests - Pokcik's and Kak Ita's family - bid good bye.
But I hope the memory of that night will last a lot longer…
(Well, it definitely left its mark on Huzaifah and hubby - both of them are down with fever since yesterday - Huzaifah from consuming too much ice lollies while hubby probably from too much work. After all, he is quite used to leisurely hours, not long labors...)

Last but not least - Ramadhan Kareem to all Muslims.
Selamat Berpesta Ibadah!