A Swedish Tourist in Asakusa

Once in a while, this mosque we call home, receives guests other than the normal Jumu’ah congregation. Last Friday, it was Ertan, a Swedish with Kosovan Albanian origin, who has married a Swedish who’s half Japanese. He and his newlywed wife are in Japan to visit his wife relatives, staying in Tokyo and Osaka for about 2 weeks.



Hubby invited him to our home for tea and they had a long exchange on Muslims in both Japan and Sweden. Ertan used to work in a school and is worried about the future of Muslim children who are being sent to public schools. “They are being taught that their parents has no right to touch them, that they can always report to the agency involved if there’s so much as a tap at the back of their hand. I have seen a Muslim mother being sent to jail for 6 months because her child called the agency after she hit the child’s hand. That’s not right. Parents have the right to discipline their children, within reasons, so long as the children are not harmed.”

Yes, while it’s true that no child should be abused, parents should be allowed some space to use some measure of punishment, including hitting within reason, to discipline their children. I’ve seen destructive children creating havoc in other people’s houses and their parents never said anything just because they feel that their children must be given the freedom to do whatever they want to do in order not to disrupt their creativity. I guess, there must be balance in everything – while I support that children must be allowed some freedom to advance their creativity, it’s important too to instill respect for others, especially adults.

Since it was only Ertan’s second day in Tokyo, hubby asked if he would like to tour around Asakusa since we were thinking of going out anyway, we might as well be his tourist guide. Ertan was glad to hear that and so we went to Asakusa together after Asar, on bicycles (hubby gave Ertan a ride on the back of his bike until we reached Asakusa, which is illegal, but we hoped that we could get away with it and alhamdulillah we did)



After the normal sightseeing along Sumida river, Sensoji temple (oldest temple in Tokyo area?) and buying some souvenirs at some stalls along Nakamise street, we took him to a 100 yen shop, and my, did he had fun there. He bought a lot of daily stuff – house thermometers, drinking glasses, some candies, even torchlight, repeating again and again his amazement at how cheap everything was. Which reminded me of my own Mak and aunties buying lots of everyday stuff at 100 yen shop – bowls, knives, place mats - before they returned to Malaysia too.



Ertan, who bought a Tokyo Metro subway's one-day ticket, then followed hubby to Gyotoku, for his biweekly class for adult. They happened to meet Imam Salahuddin of Hira’ Mosque who was instructing a Quran class for some children. Imam Salahuddin, a Libyan, has been very kind and supportive towards hubby, sharing some Jumu’ah sermons in Arabic and asked hubby to feel free to contact him anytime we need to.



After Isyak, hubby brought Ertan to another 100 yen shop in Gyotoku. He had another shopping spree, but kept saying that his wife must’d been greatly worried by his late return. He bought some food – bread, soft drink, snacks - for his wife, while exclaiming his amazement at how cheap food is in the supermarket. But then again, food is a lot cheaper in Gyotoku than in Tokyo. And food is almost always a lot cheaper in the supa than the konbini…

Introducing Ujai-kun

We had this idea of having a blog exlusively detailing Huzaifah's development months ago although it wasn't until late May when I started a new blog for this purpose. Was too lazy to maintain it though, but now that hubby is well versed with the working of blogspot, it's up and running.

So, feel free to browse Ujai-kun, and yes, comments are highly appreciated.

Tak baik tidur lepas subuh

Mak selalu pesan “tak baik tidur lepas subuh, nanti rezeki mahal”
Tapi musim panas di sini bererti subuh masuk pukul 3 pagi. Jadi pesanan Mak tu selalu diabaikan saja. Kalau di Malaysia bangun pukul 3-4 pagi maksudnya nak solat tahajud, tapi sekarang di sini kalau bangun pukul 5.00 pagi dah dikira waktu ‘subuh dinosaur’, bukan setakat ‘subuh gajah’ lagi dah.

Entah kenapa pagi tadi mata tak mengantuk pula selepas subuh. Huzaifah pun susah nak tidur balik selepas bertukar lampin. Ditepuk tak mahu, didodoi menangis pula. Huzaifah sekarang dah tak suka digomol-gomol, digumpal-gumpal. Dia tak suka apa-apa aktiviti yang ada ciri-ciri mengongkong. Malah bertatih pun bukannya mahu dia dipegang, tapi bila-bila dia mahu, dia sendiri yang akan berpaut pada kaki ibu atau ayah dan berlatih bertatih.

Sebab lewat tidur semula, kebetulan pula hari ini tidak ada kelas, agak lewat bangun. Bangun-bangun, terus masak nasi, kari ayam dan sayur goreng. Ikan salmon goreng halia yang dimasak semalam pun dipanaskan semula. Huzaifah pun terjaga, tapi leka bermain di dalam bilik berhawa dingin, jadi tidak ‘menolong’ ibu di dapur yang panas.

Hari ini memang panas. Berbahang. Kata orang biasanya hawa macam ini cuma terjadi dalam bulan 8. Tapi tahun ni musim panas awal sikit agaknya berbanding tahun-tahun lain. Teringat kata Kamarol (yang baru pulang dari Malaysia, dan sudi bawa Milo, asam keping dan kayu manis sebagai buah tangan dari Malaysia) “kalau jadi buat Disneyland di Malaysia, kesianlah dekat puteri-puteri dan karektor-karektor Disney lain yang kena pakai baju tebal-tebal dan bertopeng dalam panas.“ Ahh, tak payah tunggu Disneyland di Malaysia, di Tokyo ini pun pasti cukup menyeksakan bila menjadi maskot dalam musim panas yang amat hangat ini.

Selepas solat zohor, belek-belek dokumen untuk prosedur kemasukan ke Waseda. Alhamdulillah, peperiksaan dan temuduga untuk kemasukan sudah selesai dan keputusan pun sudah diterima. Seperti yang diduga, walaupun esei yang ditulis entah apa-apa kandungannya dan waktu temuduga pun tidak lancar menjawab seperti yang diharapkan, berkat doa semua (dan kemungkinan besar kerana sekarang ini pun seorang pelajar tajaan Mambusho), lulus sudah permohonan untuk masuk sebagai pelajar Masters sepenuh masa. Selama ini, hanyalah seorang kenkyusei (research student) sahaja.

Surat tawaran dibelek-belek, kerana atas kesibukan dengan urusan sekolah dan rumahtangga, tidak sempat dibaca teliti sebelum ini. Surat baru diterima hari Isnin lepas walaupun keputusan sudah diketahui seminggu lepas. Itupun terpaksa ambil sendiri di pejabat GSAPS (nama pendek sekolah), kerana bila dipos, surat berkenaan dikembalikan kepada GSAPS kerana alamat yang digunakan sudah tidak terpakai. Jadi dimaklumkan pula secara emel agar datang mengambil dokumen di pejabat GSAPS. Bukannya tidak pernah cuba maklumkan pertukaran alamat di pejabat GSAPS, tetapi disuruhnya pula ubah sendiri alamat secara on-line. Bila dicuba-cuba berkali-kali tidak berjaya, lalu harapnya GSAPS terima makluman secara manual. Rupa-rupanya tidak juga.

“Ya Allah, tarikh tutup penghantaran dokumen semalam, 28 Jun 2006!” Tersentak bila sedar yang sudah lewat sehari rupanya.
“Hah, semalam kan Haida pergi sekolah. Kenapa tak hantar?,” tanya Pak Ostad.
“Tak perasan lah. Surat pun baru nak baca betul-betul hari ni. Ada kawan cakap tarikh tutup 30 Jun. ”
“Habis tu, nak buat macamana ni ? Sempat lagi ke ? Ke nak kena tunggu tahun depan pula baru jadi 1st year student ?” Pak Ostad bertanya, separa risau, separa mengusik.

Jam sudah pukul 3.15. Cepat-cepat bersiap. Huzaifah pula pilih waktu itulah untuk menangis menjerit minta perhatian. Cepat-cepat buatkan susu, baringkan dan tenangkan Huzaifah sebelum biarkan dia minum sendirian. (Dia sudah cekap memegang botol sendiri sejak 7 bulan lagi).

Asar masuk jam 3.34 hari ini, jadi selepas selesai solat, terus berangkat ke Waseda. Bertembung Pak Ostad di muka pintu masjid di tingkat 3, mohon permisi dan mita tolong doakan.
“Baik-baik jalan. Semoga dipermudahkan, insya Allah.”

Bimbang ada, cemas pun ada. Kalau dokumen tak diterima kerana lewat sehari, bagaimana? Jepun memang amat berkira soal waktu – tidak boleh lewat walau seminit. Jadi mulalah mengatur bicara dalam kepala – “Orang lain terima dokumen sejak minggu lepas, sedangkan saya cuma terima dokumen hari Isnin – tak boleh ke dipertimbangkan?”

Sesampai di stesen Waseda sudah jam 4.31, berlari-lari anak ke Pejabat Hal-Ehwal Pelajar di kampus Toyama, kerana perlu mendapatkan salinan sijil menjadi pelajar tajaan Mambusho. Sambil menunggu salinan sijil diuruskan, bergambar di kubikel gambar segera. Kerana tidak faham dengan apa yang diperkatakan mesin, terpaksa bergambar berkali-kali – sehingga kali ketiga baru puas hati dengan gambar yang dicetak. Bila cuba melekatkan gambar di kad yang sepatutnya baru tersedar sudah tersilap saiz rupanya. Patutnya 3 cm x 4 cm, tapi ambil gambar bersaiz 3.5 cm x 4.5 cm. Aaahhh, bantai sajalah.

Selesai dapatkan salinan sijil Mambusho di kampus Toyama, separa jalan separa lari ke kampus Nishi Waseda, ke pejabat GSAPS. Sampai-sampai saja, sudah jam 5.02, jadi pintu pejabat sudah tertutup rapat. Aduhai...

Kebetulan waktu itu seorang teman Nihonjin, Yuji, berjalan dari arah belakang pejabat. “Tolong, tolong, saya harus hantar dokumen ini, tapi pejabat dah ditutup pula. Dan ada dokumen yang saya tak tahu bagaimana nak isi kerana semuanya dalam tulisan kanji”

Yuji sekilas memandang jam tangannya, “Baru saja lepas pukul 5.00, ramai lagi orang ada di pejabat. Mari, kita cuba di pintu belakang.”

Yuji memang banyak berurusan dengan orang pejabat, jadi walaupun kebiasaannya pelajar dianggap tidak sopan jika cuba berurusan selepas waktu pejabat melalui pintu belakang, kerana Yuji sudah kenal dengan orang pejabat, tidaklah jadi masalah besar.

Pegawai yang digamit Yuji tidak banyak soal, bila ditanya segera menerangkan bagaimana mahu mengisi satu dokumen dan setuju mengambil dokumen-dokumen lain yang telah selesai diisi (di atas keretapi dalam perjalanan dari Asakusa ke Waseda). Cepat-cepat pula mohon masa tambahan lima minit untuk mengisi dokumen yang terakhir, dan pegawai tersebut bersetuju.

Jadi, alhamdulillah, jam 5.15 tadi, semuanya sudah selesai. Insya Allah bulan September nanti jadilah pelajar Masters tahun satu di GSAPS ini. Alhamdulillah, mungkin murah rezeki hari ini – dokumen diterima walaupun lewat sehari - sebab tak tidur lepas subuh pagi tadi...

If there's any lesson to be learned...

Both recent entries by MakNenek and Kit had made me think long and deep about being a mother. MakNenek's words, “The truth is, our children, reflects us. That truth hurts. It means that my history has an effect on them,” resounded long after I finished reading it.

It won’t take a genius to figure how I feel about Mak, but it’s a different story altogether when it comes to my biological mother. I respect her. I feel thankful to her for bearing me in her womb for 40 weeks and bringing me to this world. But if anyone ask me if I love her as a mother, I doubt I can say ‘yes’ sincerely. She’s the anti-model of a mother I want to be for my own children.

It has always been difficult to explain to others why I became rather unfeeling towards the woman who gave birth to me. Some pre-warned me that I would feel differently after I gave birth to a child myself, but no, giving birth to Huzaifah has not change how I feel towards my biological mother. Long long ago, as I was about to leave my high school, I got lots of friends telling me in person or just leaving notes in my autograph, to love my mother, because however bad she was, she’s still the mother who gave birth to me and that "syurga di bawah telapak kaki ibu". It was clear to them that I never look forward to her annual visits. In fact, she stopped visiting when I was 16, after she got pissed with something I said and cursed me to go to hell along with my father.

We did not contact each other until I returned from UK in 1998. Since then, I have made it a habit to visit her at least once a year, normally to stay for 3 or 4 days. She would normally ask me to drive her around Kedah/Perlis, visiting some relatives or family friends whenever I visit her. Our relationship is now cordial, as against warm. It used to be tinged with bitterness when I was younger, but there’s none of that now. I guess some things just fade with time.

Why the bitterness?
I guess she felt bitter because I chose Ayah over her during the fight for custody. So did my younger brother. Ayah even won custody for my youngest brother who was less than three years old. when they were divorced for the final time.

For most part of my childhood, I was raised up by my paternal grandparents. First out of necessity because my parents found it difficult for my mother to cope with both a baby and her second pregnancy; later because they were divorced and Ayah got me while my brother stayed with our mother. They remarried after that, mostly because Ayah was deeply concerned about my younger brother’s well being, and he wanted me to have a mother just like other kids. Still, Tok Ayah and Tok insisted on me staying with them even after my parents remarried. For all I can remember, I only stayed full time with my mother when I was six and eight – prior to that it was only for short stays every now and then.

I remember my eight year quite clearly though – and that was probably the worst year of my childhood.

I remember coming back home from school to an empty house with no lunch prepared for us, because our helper was not afraid to get away whenever she felt like it since she was not well supervised by my mother. Often we had to go to Nyah’s place for lunch, which luckily was not that far from our house back then.

I remember Ayah sacking the irresponsible maid and he asked my mother, a government servant, to be back home by the evening to look after the children herself. So we went to her office right after school, waited there until she finished working. She then arranged for us to be tutored by our Indian neighbour after school, so that she could use her evenings for politically-related activities.

I remember how we often had to stay back at the neighbour’s house (with pet dogs that kind of scared me) longer than necessary, sometimes till late at night. On the rare evenings we got to return home early, we didn’t get to see our mother much because she would hit the sack, telling us that she was very tired. No, she never cooked. We ate out or bought take-outs – but often it was Ayah who returned later (because he was a self-entrepreneur, working in Butterworth) who ensured that we were well fed before we went to bed.

I remember how often we, the kids, became the cause of their quarrels, and they fought so fiercely that even until today, I could still remember the sound of their fights, their raised voices shouting at each other in the middle of the night and the sound of Ayah’s sharp slaps reaching her face. I remember crying myself to sleep, wishing so badly that I could be back with my grandparents in Kulim away from all the madness.

I remember how one day Ayah took my brothers and I out for a day out in Penang only to come back to a dark, cold house. She left us, taking with her most of the furniture and all her clothes. Ayah went to her close friend – another political activist – and forced him to spill out where my mother was. That very night, Ayah drove all over Sungai Petani until we finally located her. He divorced her for the third and final time right in front of my very eyes while my two younger brothers were asleep in the back seat of Ayah’s car.

I was eight, still young, but old enough to appreciate the more responsible and loving parent, although Ayah had always been rather garang too. Because I was over seven years old, when it came to custody I had the right to choose and it was easy for me to make up my mind. So did Abang. Because Ayah did not want to see the three of us separated, he fought for Adik’s custody and after a long trudging fight, he won the legal battle – a rarity back then because most mothers won custody for children under three years old.

I remember how she would came to pick us up at the school in Kulim and how we used to resist being taken by her – up to the point that some teachers had to ‘assist’ her, forcing us to enter her car and being driven away. I remember how Ayah would come to pick us up at the school in Sungai Petani and how gladly we would jumped in his car and went home to Tok and Tok Ayah in Kulim. This happened a few times; she even sent us to a school in Sungai Lalang to avoid us being picked up by Ayah – but when Ayah finally managed to get us back safely to Kulim, Ayah stopped sending us to school. Hence my younger brother and I missed almost one year of schooling in 1984.

Only after Ayah married Mak, I learned to live a ‘normal’ family life. No midnight fighting, no more sounds of slaps, and my brothers and I were well taken care of.

As for my biological mother – she married another, got two kids and divorced again. My half -brother stayed with her, while my half-sister was raised up by her paternal grandmother. After the divorce, their father had married another woman and he, like my father, remains happily married until now.

The truth is, I was so scared of becoming like her that when I was younger, I even decided not to marry to avoid becoming like her. I was worried since I do take more after her than my father in the looks compartment and since her blood flows in my veins – what if I too, turn out to be just like her? She married two men, got talaq numerous times (three times by my father alone) yet when her ex-husbands married another, they never have to utter another talaq, both happy and satisfied with their new families. Wouldn’t it be better to remain single than married but unable to sustain the marriage?

But as I grew older, I realized that it’s not necessary that I would turn out to be like her. So long as I remain careful not to repeat her mistakes, despite the same blood flowing in our veins, we are two different people. I can’t change her, I can’t change the past, but I am in charge of my own doings, my own future, with Allah’s permission.

If there’s any lesson to be learned, at least I could use my relationship with her as an example of what I want to avoid having with my own children. If my dysfunctional childhood history has to affect my children in any way, I hope it would only be for the better and that’s up to me.

We are not oppressed beings

I have read this some time ago, and somehow was immediately reminded of an e-mail I received at the time I was busy preparing for my wedding.

The sender was a Muslim Indian girl staying in the US. Her email voiced out her frustration about not having any say in her impending marriage – from her husband-to-be to the customes she should be wearing – all were determined by her parents. She told me that she was envious of me because I seemed to have all the final say – down to the minute details of my flower girls’ costumes. We are not oppressed beings but somehow there exists in our society people who somehow love the idea that we still are. Mind you - she was educated in the US, was working in the US, but when it comes to her marriage, nothing seems to be hers to decide. That's the way things work in her family. And she has to be content with that.

Not too long ago, a Muslim brother seemed to be somewhat torn between impressed and wary about me as I asked a lot of questions about our current resident before we moved in. I queried about wireless internet accessibility, evacuation point should there be any emergency (read: earthquake or typhoon), the nearest bicycle parking lot to the train station, apart from the normal queries about nearby shops where I could get cheap fresh food.

He was astonished when I queried about the bicycle parking lot – “You know how to ride a bicycle?”.
“Yes. (I’m a poor student using Mambusho scholarship to support three people, surely you don’t think I can afford buying and maintaining a car?) I ride a bike everywhere – to the train station, when I go shopping and all”.

He was further surprised when I stated rather firmly that I would like a tall truck which can fit our fridge so that I wouldn’t have to wait 6 hours to switch it on, which I would have to do should the fridge be laid horizontally in the truck. (As it turned out – they got a high truck for us, but some smartypant moved the fridge horizontally while they transferred it to the 5th floor – so we had no choice but to go through the 6 hours waiting period).

He turned to my husband and said, “Your wife knows everything. She can ride a bicycle, she knows about the evacuation site, she knows about unsecured wireless internet connection, she even knows about refrigerator.” While the words themselves sounded flattering, the way he said it undermined what could have been a compliment.

I have spoken to his wife – a homemaker who speaks little Nihongo and little English. We once were seated together at the back of their family car for almost 2 hours, barely saying anything to each other. I tried to strike a conversation, being the extrovert that I am, but she did not say much. The other time I met up with her, again I tried to chat her up, but to no avail. Her daughters are friendly though, so I spent more time talking to her 3 and 11 years old daughters. Maybe their mother was shy, but somehow I got the impression that she does not approve of the casual way I am dressed. She dons the purdah and black jubah, while I am normally seen in a pair of jeans, long colourful blouse with matching colourful tudung.

I am not sure whether after 18 years experience of living in Japan, she’s in the know about mundane stuff such as evacuation sites. Chances are high that she doesn’t know how to ride a bike nor drive a car, since her husband confessed that he has to ferry her everywhere. From the food she brought to a gathering I attended, she seems to be good in cooking, maybe gardening too, judging from the fresh coriander and mint leaves she distributed among those who gathered that night. Good cook, good gardener, probably good in needlework too, if her daughters dresses were any indication - the perfect picture of a domesticated housewife.

Still, just because I don’t do things the way she does, that doesn’t make me a bad Muslimah, right? Understandably I was rather offended by the snide I sensed in the remark made by her husband to mine – but then again, I guess it’s not just Muslim women, but also Muslim men who should be conditioned to accept their fellow Muslim sisters as liberated individuals.

Cakap Ayam, Cakap Itik

Sementelahan sudah jadi Imam di masjid Asakusa, lulusan Qiraat dari universiti Al-Azhar pula, ada orang Pakistan dari Saitama mohon pertolongan Pak Ostad menjadi guru Al-Quran untuk anak-anaknya seramai 3 orang.

Isterinya Nihonjin, muslim sejak lebih sedekad lalu, tetapi kerana awalnya tiada kesedaran beragama (pengakuannya sendiri) dan bila sudah ada kesedaran pula kurang kesempatan untuk belajar atas faktor-faktor masa dan jarak, masih belum dapat membaca al-Quran. Alhamdulillah dia sudah hafal dan lancar bacaan dalam solat - itu saja sudah jadi satu perkara besar kerana ramai yang sudah 5-6 tahun menjadi Muslim pun belum terang butir bacaannya dalam solat, dan solat pun masih ikut-ikutan, tidak tahu yang mana rukun, yang mana sunat.

Anak-anak itu - Afuriz 9 tahun, Mehra 6 tahun dan Waris 4 tahun, hanya tahu berbahasa Nihongo sedangkan Pak Ostad pula, walau sudah lebih 3 bulan menetap di bumi sakura ini, masih belum tahu banyak perkataan Nihongo. Jadi, Pak Ostad dan anak-anak itu berkomunikasi bagai ayam-itik - Pak Ostad berbahasa Inggeris dengan slanga Melayu-Arab manakala anak-anak itu berbahasa Nihongo.

Afuriz, kerana sesekali diajar ayahnya, sudah agak mahir dalam membaca huruf-huruf sambung.
Mehra, kerana jarang-jarang mendapat peluang membaca dan menghafal, ingin mendekati huruf-huruf Arab melalui latihan menulis, bukan hanya membaca.
Waris, seperti kebanyakan anak-anak sebaya usianya, lebih gemar bermain-main dan hanya kenal huruf alif hingga ro.

Afuriz, Mehra dan Waris membaca huruf-huruf Arab dalam sebutan slanga Nihongo.
Pak Ostad sesekali bercakap Nihongo dalam slanga Arab (cara dia menyebut "wakaranai" persis menyebut "waqoronai" dan sering diusik teman kami Kamarol, yang kini berada di Malaysia untuk meraikan kelahiran anak keduanya, seorang puteri)

Afuriz mudah diajar kerana banyak mengikut cakap. Umurnya 9 tahun, jadi sudah mulai bertambah serius dalam pelajaran sepertimana perkembangannya di sekolah.
Mehra yang mahu lebih banyak latihan menulis, sesekali tidak mengikut Pak Ostad yang menyuruhnya berlatih membaca huruf-huruf Arab. Jadi Pak Ostad mengikut rentaknya, dan memberi shukudai latihan menulis di akhir kelas
Waris, setelah melihat kakaknya Mehra diberi shukudai tulisan, juga mahukan shukudai, jadi diberi shukudai tulisan yang lebih mudah. Aah, lagipun dia baru mengenal huruf sehingga "ro" (atau disebut ra oleh Waris, selaras sebutan Nihongo)

Bukan mudah mengajar anak-anak. Dua kali seminggu Pak Ostad mengajar anak-anak Melayu di Ichikawaono. Anak-anak sebaya usia berkumpul beramai-ramai, ada-ada saja tercetus ilham bermain itu ini. Sekejap-kejap, kalau ada seorang yang perlu ke bilik air, 4-5 orang juga mahu ke bilik air serentak, walhal tandas yang ada cuma satu. Bila disuruh mengulang-ulang apa yang sudah diajar, ramai pula yang serentak bertanya apa yang tidak faham. Memang kesian tengok Pak Ostad kepeningan melayan pertanyaan ini itu sambil perlu terus mengajar anak-anak yang lain tahap keupayaan membaca.

Kesiankan Pak Ostad di Ichikawaono, cuma sesekali saja dapat membantu kerana dia selalunya pergi sendirian. (Jem, kalau pindah ke Gyotoku, bolehlah hantar anak mengaji di Ichikawaono juga). Kesiankan Pak Ostad mengajar anak-anak Jepun di masjid, boleh juga bantu jadi penterjemah, sambil biarkan Huzaifah bermain-main dengan Waris.

Tapi selepas ini, bagaimana Pak Ostad rajin berpesan pada anak-anak Jepun itu untuk selalu renshuu (ulangkaji) mengaji huruf-huruf Al-Quran di rumah, begitu juga dia harus rajin renshuu pelajaran Nihongonya. Tidaklah selama-lamanya bercakap ayam-itik dengan mereka yang berbahasa Nihongo.

New Muslimah, New Wife

A day after we were visited by the aforementioned Japanese muslimah, we received another request – for hubby to officiate a new Muslim revert and right after that, to act as qadhi for a nikah ceremony. Hubby who had never seen how these two ceremonies were carried out in Japan before, advised the man who came to see him to call a representative of Islamic Circle. He called the former president of Islamic Circle, who then asked hubby if he could do it. Hubby said that since he had never undertake such responsibility before and since he’s still not good in Nihongo, he would rather somebody else do it. The former president of Islamic Circle then advised the man to call him on Thursday morning to confirm his attendance for the new muslim reversion and wedding ceremony on Thursday night.

Thursday morning – we were awake to the sound of some Japanese man asking permission to enter the house. There were three of them, to do some renovation works on the house, as promised to us by Islamic Circle. The house was not in pristine condition when we entered it about two weeks ago – leaking roof, closet sliding doors falling apart, tattered wallpapers in living area, really shabby wallpapers in the toilet and wash area, broken toilet seat plus there were cockroaches everywhere. Back in Gyotoku, our house was a typical Japanese apartment – no ants, no cockroaches and the mosquitoes were quite recent, making their appearance as summer began. Therefore, after our first visit to the house, the representative of Islamic Circle promised that they would clean and do some reformation on the house before we entered it. They managed to clean the house up a bit before we entered it, but as for the reform, after not getting suitable quotations from various contractors, they decided to wait until after we were settled in before getting another quotation, which finally met their budget. Hence the belated renovation work being carried out on last Thursday.

That day, hubby spent most of the day rearranging books while I looked after Huzaifah and read a few children books at the small library in the Muslimah praying area. The house was such a mess, so I could not cook. We ate microwave-reheated leftover food from the day before and I had to bathe Huzaifah at the men wudhu’ area. It wasn’t until about five in the evening when the contractor called us, telling us that they were done and asked us to see for ourselves what had been done. He politely asked us to let the president of Islamic Circle know if anything is not up to standard and he would be in touch with the president.

Not long after we returned to the comfort of our newly reformed house, someone knocked on the door – asking us if the former president of Islamic Circle has already arrived since the Japanese girl who wished to revert to Islam as well as her husband-to-be and respective party were waiting downstairs. I let him used to mosque’s phone to call the Islamic Circle representative himself – and though they spoke in Urdu, it wasn’t difficult to guess that all was not well when the man handed the phone over to me.

“Sister, can your husband handle the conversion and marriage ceremony?”
I was stunned.
Just then, hubby emerged out of the bathroom and I asked him to speak directly to the Islamic Circle representative.

The Islamic Circle brother told us that he was still at home because the man who was supposed to call him that morning did not do so and so he thought that there would be no ceremony in the evening that day. He then asked if hubby could officiate these two ceremonies on Islamic Circle behalf, claiming that they were quite easy and nothing to worry about. Hubby then passed the phone back to me, so that I could get more details written down, since the ceremonies were supposed to be carried out in Nihongo.

The conversion ceremony is quite easy since the script is written out in both Arabic and Katakana with its meaning in Nihongo in the New Muslim certificate. All hubby had to do was to recite the syahadah as well as the rukun iman and ask the girl to repeat after him.

The nikah ceremony is a bit tricky though.

In a lintang pukang way, I wrote down the akad in Nihongo – including pre-nikah questions regarding the mahar and the witnesses, the akad questions to be asked to the bride and the groom and the pronouncement of them being legally wedded husband and wife. The Arabic khutbah nikah is written in the Islamic Circle diary, which hubby has, together with its translation in Nihongo. The doa is up to hubby. Finally, hubby should ask if there’s any additional gift for the bride from the groom, and with that final question, the ceremony would be over.

Hubby had to take care of the paperwork too – preparing both the New Muslim certificate as well as the Muslim Marriage certificate. By then it was already Maghrib. He quickly distributed the forms to be filled and signed by the respective parties, leaving them at that while he led Maghrib prayer.

After Maghrib, hubby and I had a small consultation session, on how to carry out both ceremonies smoothly. We checked with the party first if it was possible for us to conduct the ceremony in English, but since the bride-to-be could not speak English, we decided to heed the Islamic Circle brother's advice and and conducted it in Nihongo. I wrote out the akad in romanized Nihongo for hubby, double checking with the man acting as the arranger of the ceremony if the questions were appropriate and fitting. Since he is a Pakistani who married a Nihonjin himself, I felt reassured when he vetted the script I wrote for hubby.

So, on that blessed malam Jumaat, I witnessed the reversion of a new Muslim sister, followed by a simple nikah ceremony.

It was obvious that the new sister was not prepared for the reversion ceremony. Chances are, if she was well-prepared, reciting the syahadah would not be that tough for her. Because she stumbled here and there, despite reading the katakana form of the syahadah – she had to repeat the syahadah a couple of times. Reading Arabic sentences could be really challenging for Japanese due to the differences in pronunciation, so I was relieved to see the new sister being encouraged and assisted by another Japanese muslimah as she struggled in reciting the syahadah.


Right after the syahadah, she repeated the Rukun Iman in Arabic after hubby. After which, hubby gave a short introduction on Rukun Iman and Rukun Islam. The arranger of the ceremony and the groom took turn translating hubby’s explanation in halting English to Nihongo. Once in a while, her female friend helped out when the new sister seemed somewhat perplexed by what she heard. Obviously, she has a lot to learn about this religion she had chosen now.

Hubby chose to finish the paperwork for New Muslim registration after the syahadah recital. He then presented a copy of the New Muslim certificate along with a Islamic Cirlce diary which consisted a lot of interesting facts and data for Muslim to the new sister. She seemed excited, saying that she could not wait to show her father in Okinawa the certificate. Alhamdulillah, apparently she faced no objection from her parents when she told them that she would like to become a Muslim and marry a Muslim man.

Next, the nikah ceremony.

Hubby double checked with me, re-reading the questions one final time before he asked the respective parties the assigned questions. The akad was over and done with in no time – and the next thing he knew, he was to read the khutbah nikah. After he was done with the short khutbah, the bride and her female friend read the translation of the khutbah together. The friend said that she was not given a translation of the khutbah during her nikah ceremony three years ago, so it was also the first time she read for herself the content of the khutbah.

By Isyak, both ceremonies were over and done with. Took some pictures together, let the newly wed played with Huzaifah for a while and we exchanged phone numbers. The sister who has been a Muslim for the past three years confessed that she still has a lot to learn about Islam, just as mush as the new sister has. They live in Yokohama, far away from Asakusa, and they are both busy with work, so it’s difficult for them to attend any class organized in this mosque. I asked them to call me anytime anyway, should they have any question, and maybe I could introduce them to other Japanese muslimah who might address their questions more to their satisfaction. As it is, I am still learning Nihongo and might have problem explaining things since they can’t speak English well. They both thanked me profusely, and I wished the new sister the prerequisite “ganbatte ne” – it’s going to be a lot different now that she is both a new muslim and a new wife.

Hubby quickly finished the paperwork and handed over to both husband and wife a copy each of the Muslim Marriage certificate. The groom shared some sweets he received from his family in Pakistan and the party then departed, went on to have dinner together at a restaurant some where in Tokyo.

I noticed that there was no lafaz taklik – apparently, it’s not common here like it is in Malaysia for the groom to state there and then that if he ever be inconsiderate towards the wife in certain ways, they then would automatically be divorced. I wondered about it as I wondered about the new sister’s future with her hubby, remembering the recent sad story I heard from another Japanese sister – and I made a quick doa in my heart that their marriage would be blessed and long lasting.

Seeking advice regarding marriage and divorce

I need some advice.

There’s a Japanese Muslimah seeking for divorce from her Pakistani husband but she has no idea where to turn to. The husband has left her three years ago, and has stopped sending money for their 12 year old daughter about three months ago. She hasn’t talked to him since 2003, and up until April this year, all communications were done via phone calls to her brother in law. The brother in law has changed his phone number, her parents-in-law in Pakistan have moved and she has no idea of their new wherabouts and so she is at a loss now, not knowing how to contact her ‘husband’.

She is seeking for her divorce to be finalized so that she can marry another an Indonesian Muslim. She went places, seeking advice on what to do – the Japan Muslim Association, Islamic Center, various mosques – but all to no avail, since wherever she went to requires the presence of her ‘husband’ too. As for turning to Japanese legal system, a divorce would be a lot easier if the husband has signed a mutual divorce paper; but without his proper consent, she has to wait for about seven years before she can claim their marriage is nullified, or so she told me. I have no idea about the Japanese family law, but yes I have seen a lot of rinkon (divorce) papers signed in dramas and I knew it would be easy on her if the husband had given her the courtesy of signing a rinkon paper.

We recommended her talking to somebody from Islamic Circle, but she refused. She claimed that she had called numerous knowledgeable or highly influential Pakistani or Indian Muslims in Japan, but often her request to meet them were turned down, with lots of excuses. She went to the Pakistan Embassy to seek some advice, but she was turned away rather rashly. She tried seeking help from her fellow Japanese muslimahs, but after a nasty incident of meeting strangers who harshly labeled her as a bad wife who does not know how to take good care of her family, she stopped trusting fellow Japanese muslimahs who are married to Pakistanis or Indians.

She recalled her wedding quite fondly – in a nice hotel, attended by their then close friends, the ceremony presided by a Hafeez from India. She remembered a lot of people offering their help for her to understand Islam better at that time, teaching her a lot of new things. She undertook major changes in her life – donning the hijab, praying five times a day, changing her diet to consume only Halal food. She began to drift further apart from her family and former friends, yet she was not warmly welcomed by her husband’s family. Her parents in law, in fact, tried their best to split the couple up so that the husband could marry a ‘proper’ Muslimah from back home. That in itself was a cause for stress, but somehow she found relief in her faith in Allah.

And now, more than a decade later, she remains a firm believer in Allah and Islam, despite discreditable treatment from her ‘husband’. "He will receive punishment from Allah, will he not? Allah has been kind to me and my daughter. Despite not having a stable job, somehow we were never left without food or shelter. We do not lead a comfortable life the way it used to be, but alhamdulillah, we still survive," she said.

She found her new ‘friend’ when she was working in an Indonesian shop (where she received shabby treatment by the shopkeeper’s wife, a Muslim, who claimed that they were only giving the job to her out of pity to her child. Initially she was promised a monthly wage of 50,000 yen, but after 3 months of receiving only 20,000 yen a month with promises of more later, she quitted. She found out that the shopkeeper's wife was a dishonest women, and she could not stand working for such a dishonest person). This new ‘friend’ has shown a lot of support, both emotionally and financially, during the last few months and has asked her to go to Indonesia and marry him there.

However;

- How could she marry another without a proper divorce from her current ‘husband’?
- How is she going to seek divorce when she has no idea where her ‘husband’ is and has no idea where to start looking for him since she now has no contact with not only him, but also with none of his family members or friends?
- She’s thinking of seeking help in getting a divorce in Indonesia, since it might be easier to plead her case there. But, even if she succeeds in getting a divorce in Indonesia and marries her ‘friend’, what about his status when they return to Japan?
- Right now, he’s on temporary business visa. He plans to make Japan his permanent resident, which would not be a big problem if he’s married to a Japanese since he could get a spousal visa. But without a proper rinkon document, she could not submit a new kekkon (marriage) document, thus it would be impossible for him to get a spousal visa
- The Japanese love for rules and regulations could cause a lot of grief for gaijin like him, and yes, it would also be a problem for them to have children together without the proper marriage documents.
- What can they do to overcome all the matters stated above?

So there – could anybody offer me some advice to pass on to this sister?

Moving back to Tokyo - Part 2

(* Ok, for the record, there’s yet any internet connection at our new place. There are some wireless internet connections available – but none unsecured, so I no longer have ‘free’ internet access like it used to be in Gyotoku. I miss having 24/7 internet connections at home – especially now since I’m in the middle of preparing for my graduate school’s entrance exam/interview which insya Allah will be held on June 18th - yup, on a Sunday morning)

I’m still getting used to living on the 5th floor with no elevator available. Previously in Gyotoku, our room was on the third floor and some friends refer to it as “rumah atas bukit”. Now that we are on the fifth floor, some began to call it “rumah atas gunung”. But yes, it’s good exercise. Hubby said that we are saving ourselves the trouble of going to a gym to keep ourselves fit. Personally, I try not to mind too – so long as we never ever forget anything – keys, baby’s bottle, extra diapers, etc - before we leave home. (oh yes, already I had forgotten Huzaifah’s bottle once, with freshly made milk on the dinner table. Previously, I had to pass the kitchen before exiting the house, so I’d never forgotten to pack the bottle – but now we no longer have to pass the kitchen in order to exit the house, so there… Alhamdulillah, Huzaifah is a flexible child, so that day I fed him milk using a glass and spoon.)

If my Mak is here, she would be pleased to witness first hand how industrious hubby has been lately. I must admit that he is doing a whole lot more than me in making the place as comfortable as possible for us – in fact, he did most of the unpacking, leaving only the kitchen and the toilet/bathroom for me to attend to. In the first place, he was the one who did most of the packing too, mostly done when I was away at school, only leaving the final vacuuming and mopping for me to attend to.

We moved to Asakusa on Saturday evening. At first we were told that we would be moving at around 9.00 to 10.00 a.m. Later, we were told that the scheduled had been postponed to around 5.00 to 6.00 p.m.. Hubby and I just agreed to whatever ICOJ arranged because ICOJ paid for the rental truck. Hubby just informed some Malaysian friends about the proposed time for us to move since they had offered to help us.

Thinking it was going to be 5.00 p.m. when we finally moved, we delayed some packing until the very last minute – food in the fridge, some clothes, etc. However, the people from ICOJ arrived at about 3.30 p.m., telling us that we would be moving things downstairs from then on. Kelam kabut we finished the last minute packing and called up friends living nearest to us to engage their help,as well as calling distant friends informing them of the change and advised them not to come.

When I moved from Komaba to Gyotoku, everything could be packed within a small mini truck. This time though, it had to be a 2 tonne truck because hubby had accumulated a lot of stuff in the past three months or so, mostly for Huzaifah – two large boxes of toys, baby car seat, baby walker, baby seat (for feeding him) etc. At one time everybody was worried that we could not fit everything inside the truck, but alhamdulillah, macam ajaib la jugak, the men managed to pack everything inside the truck. By everything, I’m referring to almost 20 boxes of various sizes, about 10 suitcases/bags of different sizes, the big fridge, the 25 inch TV, numerous shelves and drawers, chairs, tables. Yup, it was quite a sight to behold.

By 7.00 p.m, alhamdulillah, we were done with it. We transferred the ownership of our washing machine and gas cooker to Kamarol, since these items were already available at our new place. Actually, there were several other items already available at our new place such as dinner table and chairs as well as sofas, but hubby insisted on bringing everything because disposing large stuff in Japan is not as easy as we can do it in Malaysia. And alhamdulillah, because the helpers were mostly ICOJ people, including the driver of the truck, this time around, although the truck was not equipped with navigator system, the trip from Gyotoku to Asakusa was smooth and steady – no sightseeing tour like I experienced the first time I moved in March.

Hubby and I started unpacking that very night, and hubby went to bed only after solat Subuh, at about 3.30 a.m., after almost 80% of unpacking was done. Though I did not do much carrying, instead, just taking care of Huzaifah while others were moving the stuff (reads: advising others on which boxes is heavy/light, and where to put them upon arrival in Asakusa), I somehow felt a bit drained that night, what with Huzaifah finding difficulty going to sleep, like he usually does in an unfamiliar surrounding. Somehow, I managed to clean the kitchen until it seems functional enough and rasmikan it for the first time by cooking instant noodles as dinner for us that night.

Some friends had advised me in advance on how strict and particular house owners and real estate agents could be upon final inspection of the house. I had arranged to meet both the house owner and real estate agent to nullify the contract at 1.00 p.m. on Sunday. Hubby and I arrived at the house for final clean up at around 11.45 a.m., so just it’s not difficult to imagine our surprise when the real estate agent showed up at 12.00 p.m. I was in the middle of vacuuming while hubby was in the middle of disposing some chair and table (rather illegally because he just took them to a large garbage dump at a public park not far from our home.) There was still some space left to be vacuumed when Huzaifah started crying for my attention. The real estate agent then asked me to pick Huzaifah up and he continued with the vacuuming. As I held Huzaifah in my left arm, I started mopping the kitchen floor, and then the house owner arrived. I have asked a friend who is good in Nihongo to assist us during the final check up, but since we have arranged to meet at 1.00 p.m., he was not there yet. Quickly called him up and he showed up not long after that.

Since it was a last minute arrangement, we still had to pay the rent for June, but we did get some balance from the one-month deposit I paid before. After the real estate agent showed us the uneven spots (caused by spilled food) on two tatami mats which had to be changed (and I had anticipated in advance) and explaining how much I had to pay for water bill in May, I got the 48000 yen balance from the deposit on the spot as I finally returned the house key to the owner. I thanked him and apologized for moving out so soon after he had kindly installed new air-conditioner and hot water supply for the kitchen as per my request. Understandably he’s not happy about me moving because it will take some time to find new tenant, but (so typically Japanese) he did not show any sign of dreariness, instead he congratulated hubby warmly and wished us all the best in our new place.

Honestly, I liked living in Gyotoku. No hassle to change train to go to school, free bicycle parking at Seiyu, really cheap food could be found at various shops (various vegetables for less than 100 yen a pack, 10 eggs for less than 100 yen, etc etc etc), a reliable Malaysian community living not so far away and it was quite easy for hubby to go and teach the Malaysian kids in Ichikawaono. But things change, and often we have to change as situation changes, just like in this instant.

Nevertheless, change is often for the better. And that’s exactly what I’m praying for right now.

Moving back to Tokyo

Hubby and I went on a road show of some sort when I went back for a short while late last year, trying to convince everybody that it would be better for us to be together in Japan while I’m studying here.

Coming from a large family (his late grandfather was married to 4 women when he passed away, and 2 more before that, one passed away before he did and the other was divorced), when he announced that he would take the baby and join me in Japan after he finished his KPLI course last year, he was subject to lots of scrutiny. Suddenly he found himself getting a lot of unheeded advice and opinions – mostly discouraging him from making such a move.

People questioned about:

"Nanti hilang seniority. Habis belajar terus amik cuti pulakOrang lain dah naik pangkat, dia tak naik lagi"
"Nanti balik Malaysia ni nanti, ada ke kerja? Konfem ke ada kerja?Tak nanti dok rumah tak kena panggil posting pulak kang"
"Boleh ke tu nanti nak hidup ramai-ramai tu tak dapat elaun famili?"
"Nanti dia pergi sana, sapa nak jaga kelas agama kat Masjid Rasah? Kat Surau Labu?"
"Reti ke dia nak jaga baby tu? Pandai ke?"
"Nanti esok-esok bini tak ungkit ke laki takdak duit sendiri, dok makan duit bini je?"
"Tu takdak gaji nanti, nak ke dia bagi kat Mak dia macam dia dok bagi bulan-bulan sekarang ni?"
Etc, etc, etc

Oh yes, it was hurtful. And it wasn’t easy to convince everybody, but hubby and I approached the most influential figures among the clan to explain our situation and to get their blessings. My parents-in- law were in fact, the biggest hurdle to overcome, because they were adamant in not allowing their son to take unpaid leave so soon after he had just finished his KPLI.

One day before I returned to Japan, I pleaded to my mother in law, asking her to understand how difficult it was for me being so far away from my son for so long so soon after giving birth to him. And whatever concern she voiced out, I countered them persuasively. No, I would never look down at my hubby for not earning anything because for me his willingness to support me by being a stay-at-home parent to look after Huzaifah while I study means a lot more. We will make do with what little that I got because the main thing is for a family to stay together through thick and thin. While he may be losing his adult students in Seremban area, there are a lot more Ustazs available to act as his substitute while he is away. On the other hand, there is rarely any Ustazs found in Japan, and thus he might be needed more in Japan. I promised her that we will continue our monthly contribution to her even while hubby is in Japan, deducting it from my monthly salary in Malaysia. I convinced her that I am aware that hubby's first priority would always be as her son and then as my husband and my son's father, thus I plead for her blessings because I do not want my hubby to do anything against her wishes and blessings. We promised that hubby will try to benefit the Muslims in Japan with what little knowledge he has, that besides undertaking his responsibility to take care of his nucleus family, he is also going to Japan for dakwah purpose. I pleaded with her, trying my best not to shed any tears, but did so in the process unintentionally.

Gradually, my mother-in-law's stand shifted. Gradually, people stop making noises and we finally got his parents blessings for hubby to bring along Huzaifah and joined me in Japan.

#####
After some time adjusting to life in Japan, hubby began setting up classes – both for Malaysian children and adult. He also began to make friends with other Muslims attending Hira’ Mosque, not far from our home. He also began joining weekly gathering at the Mosque organized by Islamic Circle of Japan, the organization responsible for the existence and maintenance of four mosques and two musollas in Japan.

It was during these gatherings when he was asked by the former president of ICOJ, Brother Jamil Ahmad on whether or not he would be interested to take up the position to be an instructor at an Islamic school soon to be created. He said that let him consult me first because he has to take care of the baby whenever I am away and I have classes 4 days in a week.

Not long after that, the same person approached him again, asking whether or not he would be interested to be an Imam in a mosque in the Tokyo area. If he agreed, he might have to move to Tokyo, which Brother Jamil said would be to my benefit too since I;m studying in Tokyo. Once again, hubby stressed that he has a baby to take care of and he needed to consult me before he could agree to anything.

And so last week, he took me to the mosque, and we had a small discussion with Brother Abdul Salam, the Sec-Gen of ICOJ and two other prominent members of ICOJ. Brother Abdul Salam showed us a picture of the Daar Al Arqam mosque and explained to us the duties of an Imam in that mosque, which is also the headquarter of ICOJ. Basically, if he agrees, hubby is to lead the prayers there, most crucially for Jumu’ah prayer, to act as caretaker of the mosque (Tok siak of some sort) as well as taking care of some administrative tasks for ICOJ like forwarding queries, calls and faxes to the President and Sec-Gen.

They believe that it won’t be problem for us because the Imam could live there – the residence is on the top floor of the 5-storey mosque building, and that even if I need to attend any class on Friday when hubby has to perform his major task of leading the Jumu’ah prayer, they could assist in arranging for some babysitter. In exchange of being the Imam there, ICOJ would provide free residence inclusive of utilities. That means no monthly rent and no monthly water, electricity and gas bills to take care of.

I asked hubby to perform solat istikharah. He consulted both sets of parents – in Seremban and in PJ. All of them gave their blessings. Ayah in particular was so stunned of this news that he felt down (alhamdulillah he landed safely on the bed) and started crying upon being told by Mak. I later teased Ayah about it, to which he replied solemnly, “Ayah terharu doa Ayah dimakbulkan Allah sebelum Ayah pejam mata. Inilah yang Ayah dok doa selalu – minta anak cucu Ayah dapat jalankan kerja dakwah, dapat sumbangkan untuk Islam. Mana kita nak sangka Allah nak bagi rezeki macam ni?”

True, neither hubby nor I expected this kind of offer. In fact, we were ready to stay in Gyotoku and try to contribute what little we could for Islam among the local Muslim community. Being given a chance to be an Imam in mosque located in Tokyo means insya Allah hubby will get to know a larger audience with various background, exposing him to an international Muslim community in Japan, opening up windows of opportunities for him and I to share what little we know and learn more from others. Chances are we could also initiate the involvement of more Malaysians in ICOJ related activities. Like somebody was saying the other day – “Bukan selalu nak jumpa Pak Imam Melayu kat Masjid di Jepun nih…” By the way, hubby definitely has found a motivation for him to study Nihongo now. Otherwise he would probably be the only Imam in a Japanese mosque who could not speak Japanese at all.

Now insya Allah we could alleviate his family fear about him not earning any income while he is accompanying me in Japan. In fact, the small sum ICOJ promised as monthly allowance for hubby is considerably more (in Ringgit Malaysia) than what he used to earn as a high school teacher before he came to Japan. We are thinking of sponsoring his parents to come and visit us here in Japan and let them see for themselves how we are faring here. We were prepared to make do with my monthly stipend alone, and then alhamdulillah, this offer came as rezeki from Allah.

So, tomorrow insya Allah we will move to Asakusa, and I will become the Pak Imam’s wife (but please, please, please don't call me Mak Aji, okay?)

Makan makan

1.

Two nights before Maulidur Rasul 1427, hubby suggested that we had a small Maulidur rasul celebration at our home. He was thinking of a small dinner comprising just Kamarol, himself and I. Kamarol in turn, suggested inviting JPA-sponsored friends from Takara and Ichikawa Ono since he too was thinking of having a small kenduri arwah in honour of his dad who had just recently passed away during the spring break. Besides, I had yet to invite friends from Ichikawa Ono who had helped me when I moved, for a thank-you-meal.

So, we started calling everybody (limiting the invitation to just men, since space was rather limited) at about 10.30p.m., inviting them to come over to my place the following evening, for a small Maulidur Rasul-cum-kenduri arwah-cum-housewarming party gathering. It was quite late by then that some listed on our guest list had actually gone to bed.

There was no class the next day, so Kamarol and I went places to get the ingredients needed for the kenduri. Prior to food shopping, I bought a new carpet for the house, to make it more comfortable for our guests later in the evening. Kamarol and I went to a lot of shops to get different things – it’s not like we can get everything under one roof for fair prices like we could from a Giant outlet in Malaysia. Along the way, Kamarol asked me why didn’t hubby suggested this earlier, and I replied I was just as surprised as he was when hubby first announced his intention at Kamarol’s place.

Kamarol was the Head Chef that day and I assumed the position of his assistant as we worked together in my small kitchen. Apart from taking care of Huzaifah, hubby was in charge of clearing and storing everything away so that we can seat our guests properly. I must admit that hubby is a lot better in storing stuff - by the end of the day, the house looked a lot spacious than it normally does, spacious enough for hubby to comfortably lead Maghrib and Isyak prayer for a congregation of 7 makmums with free spaces left.

Huzaifah 'rasmikan' the new carpet

There are many reasons why we must be thankful for the birth of Rasulullah, and we are to remember this everyday, not just on the day he was born...
"Sollallahu ala Muhammad.."

Menu for the day – Plain rice, Kari kepala ikan, Sambal sotong, Jelatah timun & nenas, Telur goreng kicap, kiwi, pineapple and bananas as dessert, followed by black tea and Kopi Hang Tuah. Considering it was a last minute thingy, I was glad that we pulled it off quite well, alhamdulillah. The food, the pengisian by hubby, the tahlil, the selawat and all.

Head Chef overseeing guests enjoying his creations

As for dalils on celebrating Maulidur Rasul, they could be found on various pages, among others, here.

#####
2.

Sabah’s e-mail sent to my keitai was brief and to the point - “Jumaat malam kol 7 kitorang buat housewarming kat rumah Apid. So jemputlah datang ye”

Hubby asked me numerous times, whether or not I would really like to attend the housewarming party held in Saginuma, 1 ½ hours away by train from Gyotoku. Admittedly I wasn’t really keen on taking Huzaifah for a long ride on train, especially when we have to transfer trains several times, but the three kohais - Sabah, Apid and Fahmi – had been kind and helpful when I was in Komaba, and I really wanted to introduce hubby to them. Besides, it would be a good opportunity for hubby to mingle with Malaysians, and I thought he would like that.

The weather was fine, Huzaifah was pretty cheerful for most part of the travel and yes, both hubby and I had a fine time attending the kohai’s housewarming party. Menu of the day – Nasi Ayam by Sabah, Strawberry layered cheesecake and linguine (instead of fettucine) with Alfredo sauce by Apid, and lots of junkfood. Everything tasted good - oishikatta. We were spoiled for choices when it came to drinks too – various sports drinks, fruit juices, non-carbonated soft drinks and coffee. Everybody praised Sabah for his (now signature) Nasi Ayam and Apid even managed to conduct a short course on preparing Alfredo sauce (or in this case, Apido sauce). Huzaifah had a great time too - eating lots of cake and playing with linguine pasta.

It was past midnight when we reached home, Huzaifah already asleep as I seated him on the kid’s seat behind me on my bike. We saw a lot of flushed red faces on the train – possibly a hint of drunkenness, we even saw someone throwing up in the middle of a pedestrian’s pathway. (None of the strangers who played with Huzaifah on the train looked drunk or smelled of alcohol though.) Glancing at the salarymen in suits standing in the train, hubby remarked that chances are low of witnessing such sight in Malaysia at almost midnight. Obviously, while there are good cultures that can be learned while we are here, there are Japanese cultures that would be better merely observed and never followed.

And so I turned 31...

“Mentang-mentang ni hari ni birthday kau, kau ingat kau dapat cuti ke?”

Kamarol, who was supposed to be my next door neighbour but ended up being my 10-minutes-by-bike neighbour, called me when I did not turn up at the only class I have today. I quickly reassured him that I would be there as hubby, Huzaifah and I were queuing up to board the bus to Waseda University from Takadanobaba eki. We had just returned from shopping at a Halal shop in Shin Okubo – the first time for hubby since he arrived in Japan.

It turned out that I got no class today after all because the class was cancelled though we did not receive any earlier notice. Apparently Kamarol made that call a few minutes before the announcement was made, so he himself was not aware that the class would be cancelled when he called me. Anyway, I thought having no class on my birthday is pretty cool – so I quickly returned to the place where I left hubby and baby, this time with Kamarol tagging along.

When I woke up this morning, I really had no idea what to do apart from attending class and maybe go out somewhere for lunch with hubby and baby. Then I thought, since I only had one class scheduled for today, why not have lunch at the kebab shop in Takadanobaba, attend the class while hubby and baby wait and then take a walk around the University compound.

But since we had ran out of halal meat stock for quite a while and I had been quite sick of eating just Japanese sticky and short grain rice, hubby thought we might as well go to Shin Okubo, since it is only a station away from Takadanobaba. And so we did.

By the time we were done with the halal stuff shopping in Shin Okubo, I was running late for my class, so we changed the plan to have late lunch together in Waseda after class. Left baby and hubby in front of Waseda clock tower, hurried to GSAPS building, only to be told that there was no class today. Zannen…

Anyway, it took ages for hubby to return to the spot where I left him and baby, and by then Kamarol already had to rush for another class. So, hubby and I had our late lunch at Okuma Garden House cafeteria – 2 bowls of kitsune udon, a side dish of tofu, 2 cups of ice cream with free flow of iced water and green tea all for less than 1000 yen. I smiled to myself as I remembered the cost for us to take a photo commemorating hubby’s 33rd birthday in Disneyland was almost double the price we paid for lunch today, as we quietly celebrated my 31st birthday.

A quiet birthday it really was – no loud wishes from colleagues, huge present from hubby or fancy cake from friends. Instead, all I received were a c-mail from Hien, an e-mail from Jue, an Im from Masni and an e-card from Rina. Hubby sang Happy Birthday in both English and Arabic softly as I woke him up for breakfast. In keeping with the theme, even Huzaifah woke up rather quietly this morning, just merengek for his first feeding instead of the loud wailing I’m used to.

Somehow, the quietness of it reminded me of the day I turned 16. Despite feeling sure that some of the closest room-mates knew it was my birthday, no one in my dorm wished me that morning as we prepared to go to school. No one wished me after class ended and we had lunch. No one wished me after evening prep was over. It was like nobody remembered, and I was quite puzzled. But then I found solace in sharing my excitement with my classmates and same age friends in another room where I used to hang out a lot.

That very night, after being held up at a friend’s room for a while, I arrived at my dorm to find that - “SURPRISE!!!”- my dorm mates had planned and organized a surprise birthday party for me. They asked for help from some of my friends to delay me from returning straight to my dorm after the night prep session and supper was over. They purposely ignored me the whole day to enhance the surprise effect – and yes, it was a big relief to know that they remembered after all.

That was then – when what friends and dorm mates thought about you and how they regarded you meant a lot because we spent more time together than we did with even our own siblings. Friends, particularly dorm mates, mattered a lot back then Their thoughts and wishes meant a lot.

Now that I’m in a small cocoon made up of hubby and baby, miles away from close friends and relatives, with no big fuss over my birthday, somehow the quietness fits. Because what matters most is that I am spending it together with those who matter most to me.

And for that I am most grateful, alhamdulillah.

Tokyo Anime Fair 2006

The trip to Tokyo Anime Fair (TAF) 2006 had been vital for my brother, although it was on the day before his visit in Tokyo ended. We went on the opening day - with lots of adults in suits and none of the screaming ultra-mini-skirt-wearing high school girls and shaggy-bleached-haired high school boys in purposely-ruffled uniforms. Understandably, the first two days of the TAF were meant for business and the main reason my brother took hubby and I there was to help him out in identifying and meeting suitable business partners.

Since only my brother and I were dressed appropriately in formal suits for business meetings, hubby took the chance to wander around and helped himself to all kind of goodies and freebies - comics, plastic files, postcards, keychains, calendars, candies. As he hurried from one booth to another, my brother stopped for essential snapshots here and there as we met famous anime characters.

While I am not a big fan of anime, I used to join my younger cousins watching their share of cartoons in the evening when I was staying with my uncle in Putrajaya. Thus, being where the surrounding was full of hot air balloons depicting famous anime characters like Naruto and Conan, as well as bumping into real life actors imitating famous characters really made me thought of my younger cousins. Given a chance, some of them would probably join in the chorus of oohs and aahs coming from their Nihonjin peers who had a chance to witness the fair in person.

Towards the end of the show, tired of rushing for business meetings, my brother and I took a stroll. We even managed to laugh at our silliy attempt of lending our voice for animation in nihongo (aided by the persons in charge who read out the script and let us follow them since I could not read much kanji, while my brother could not read nihongo at all). I must say that despite having no idea of what he was saying, my brother would make a lot better voice talent for Japanese anime than me.

I guess we owed a kind Nihonjin who was working as an English interpreter at the fair a lot. She was kind enough to get us tickets for the Welcome Night party where my brother got a chance to mingle with hundreds of who's who in the business parts of the anime world. Hubby took that chance of being in the exhibition site when the show was over to snap lots of photos. Since we did not had any proper lunch, I indulged myself in edible sandwiches and lots of soft drinks, as well as reserving some for hubby and brother.

All in all - it was a good trip, though I doubt I would go when it's open for public. This year, both hubby and I got free entrance as we formed part of my brother's business entourage, so we did not have to pay 1000 yen each. We received lots of warm welcome at most of the booths we went to because we were seen not as mere anime fans, but prospective business partners - and yes, all of us had heavy bags filled with goodies on our way back home. My brother got more than he bargained for when we got the invitation to the Welcome Night party - for which he thanked me profusely because I was the one who inquired about it at the Information counter when I heard the announcement for it in nihongo. Of course, he's also thankful for the kind Nihonjin interpreter's assistance, which got him introduced to many prospective Nihonjin business partners.

They went places - Hakone

We started our preparation very early in the morning - at about 3.30 a.m. Mak prepared breakfast. There's only one bathroom in my house, so that partly explained why we had to wake up so soon. The train ride from Gyotoku to Shinjuku normally takes about 40 minutes, but I have to consider longer walking time for my two aunts, so I thought leaving home at about 6 a.m. would be okay in order to catch the 7.28 a.m. Romance Car in Shinjuku.

As it happened, we were ready to leave the house by 5.50 a.m. However, my son's buggy failed to work properly. Mak, hubby and I tried to fix it, but to no avail. We suspected that it had something to do with putting so much weight on the buggy's handle when we went to Disneyland (lunch for 6 adults, go figure...), so finally Mak, hubby and I only left the house at about 6.15 a.m. We boarded the train heading to Tokyo about 10 minutes later, while Mak keep asking whether we would be able to make it. If we miss the 7.28a.m. Romance Car, we could neither ask for refund nor board a later train.

The mbah group - my turning-70 year old Mak Su, 65 year old Mak Ram and turning-59 year old Mak

Considering my aunt could not walk fast, I chose not to change the train line just once at Otemachi, but changed twice instead - first from Tozai line to Ginza line at Nihombashi, then to Marunouchi line at Akasaka Mitsuke. We arrived in Shinjuku at about 7.15 a.m. Shinjuku eki is one of the largest and busiest station in Tokyo with several train operators having different entrance and exit points - so it was easy to get lost there. I had to stop twice to ask for direction to Odakyu's Romance Car platform.

Alhamdulillah, we managed to find our seats about three minutes before the train departed - phew...

Hubby and my aunts enjoyed the out-of Tokyo scenery on the train, Mak took care of Huzaifah while my brother and I planned the schedule for our day out in Hakone. It was my first time there and while our Freepasses allowed up to 3 days unlimited use of all kind of public transports in Hakone area, we decided to make it a quick one day tour. Hubby and my brother were a bit disappointed on realising that the Romance Car that we boarded was not latest edition, but rather an older train. Still, just like it newer counterparts, it took only 85 minutes to Hakone Yumoto, compared to 120 hours by normal train.

So, as soon as we arrived in Hakone Yumoto eki, we boarded a bus to Hakonemachi. While Mak attended to Huzaifah, the rest of us walked to the replica of Hakone Sekisho - the Shogun check point area. My brother and I decided to go inside while the rest browsed the row of (mostly souvenir) shops in the area.

As my brother exited the Sekisho later than I - hubby, my two aunts and I decided to wait for him at the boarding area for the pirate lookalike sightseeing ships. When my brother joined us, he looked worried - he could not find his Freepass. He thought that I might have kept it with me, but I did not. So we walked back to Hakone Sekicho and I asked the girl at the entrance gate if she had kept a lost Freepass similar to mine. Well - alhamdulillah, she did. The Freepass costs 5,500 yen - similar to one day ticket for Disneyland, but could be used up to 3 days. One can use it for unlimited boarding of various types of transportation - train, ropeway,bus, sightseeing ship, cable car - so yes, alhamdulillah, it was a relief to find it.

Next we boarded the sightseeing cruise across Lake Ashi, where we were supposed to be able to view Mount Fuji. Unfortunately it was cloudy that day, so Mount Fuji was not visible. still, it was a good 40 minutes ride since the view of the mountains surrounding Lake Ashi was in itself good enough.

We met another group of Malaysians - Melaka mari - on the ship. My brother and aunts were especially glad to be able to chat to others in Malay language after almost a week of chatting only among ourselves. We took a group photo as we arrived at Togendai, just before they went to explore the surrounding area while we made our next move to board the ropeway to Owakudani.

The ropeway here is what we mostly refer to as cable car in Malaysia. Since there seemed to be lots of vacant cars, hubby, Huzaifah and I boarded a separate car from the rest.

We stopped in Owakudani, where Mak treated us to Ebi Tendon for lunch. Initially my brother wanted to try the Ebi curry rice set, but when the meal arrived, it turned out that the curry contained some meat, so I asked the (unhappy shop owner) to change the dish to ebi Tendon. Mak wondered if we would be charged for the untouched Ebi curry rice but in the end it turned out that we were not charged for it.

Owakudani is famous for its volcanic areas and black eggs. These eggs became black from being boiled in volcanic hot springs and are famous because some believe that they can prolong the eaters' life by seven years. At 100 yen each, I would say that they probably are better at prolonging the sellers' bank accounts. Hubby, my brother, and my 65 year old aunt decided not to miss the opportunity to see volcanic sulphur hot springs. And yes - it was also a small cure for missing mountain climbing because the volcanic springs were located in hilly areas.

By the time we arrived back at the Owakudani eki, it began to to drizzle. We took a bigger, seemingly more modern ropeway (cable car) to Sounzan.

Next, from Sounzan, we took a cable car - which, to us, resemble the Penang Hill train - to Gora. The Freepass allowed free entry to Gora koen, but since it was raining, we had to give it a miss. Otherwise I think the mbah group would have enjoyed a quiet moment in the park.

From Gora, we took the most confusing train ride back to Hakone Yumoto. Gora eki is located halfway up the mountain. The mountain train moved very slowly, but since it made 3 switchbacks on the way to Hakone Yumoto, it seemed like it wasn't really moving forward, but rather forward and backward. I had already read about these switchbacks ahead of time so was not really surprised by it, but Mak was really concerned on whether or not we are moving towards our destination. I assured and kept reassuring her until we arrived in Hakone Yumoto.

Next, a boring 2 hours long ride on normal train to Shinjuku. Then right before we exited the Odakyu part of the eki, one of my aunts realised that she had lost her Freepass. Again, I had to rely on my limited Nihongo to get all of us out of the eki - sacrificing the rest of the Freepasses in the process.

So there - our one day tour in Hakone.

They went places - Day 5

I basically had no rest the whole week my brother was in Japan. Even when the "mbah" group chose to rest, my brother would insisted on me taking him somewhere. I tried suggesting him to go out on his own, but he dared only to go to Gyotoku alone. Whenever he needed to take a train, he would ask me to be his guide.

So, on day 5, we went to Mitaka, to Ghibli Museum. But the ticket was sold out, so we could only viewed the outer part. I did not know my brother's planned schedule in advance so I dared not bought his ticket in advance. Anyway, the good thing was my brother managed to view some sakura in Mitaka - a bit early compared to Gyotoku.

We went to Shinjuku after that, to buy tickets to go to Hakone. After the guy behind the Tourist information counter assured us that the weather in Hakone was expected to be fine the following day, we bought Hakone Freepasses for the next day there and then. We planned on taking the Odakyu Romance Car on our way there and taking the normal train on our way back. Mak wanted to give my two aunts a taste of taking a shinkansen (bullet train) ride. While the Romance Car was not exactly a shinkansen, at least the inner looked like one, so we thought it would be nice to take one to go to Hakone. Hoping to beat the peak time, we decided to take one departing from Shinjuku at 7.28 a.m. - and what an adventure it turned out to be to ensure we didn't miss it.

And here're some photos of Huzaifah for those who wonder how my son looks like now

He turned 7 months today - and at 70cm high, I often get comments that he's tall for his age..

They went places - Day 4

Hubby opted for a day out - choosing to stay at home with Huzaifah while everybody else had a Tokyo Tour with me as tourist guide.

We went to Waseda first, because I needed to take my result (alhamdulillah, I did ok.)



Next stop was Ginza, because Mak wanted to let my two aunts experience walking on where it used to be the most expensive place on earth. We stopped for tea at a Fujiya after I reassured Mak that no, it wouldn't costed 10,000 yen each. When Mak saw the bill, she even claimed that she wouldn't mind footing another bill...


Then, Asakusa - not so much for the shrine, but more for the Petaling street-feel bazaar experience for my aunts and brother. Mak chose not to melt in the crowd because she had been here a couple of times before.


Prayed Asar in Tokyo Mosque. I even waited for Maghrib, but asked the "mbah" group to walk ahead of me and waited for me at Yoyogi Uehara eki. If they had waited to pray Maghrib/Isyak there and then, chances were we would not be able to shop at Oriental Bazaar, in Harajuku.

As it happened, we were the last customers to exit Oriental Bazaar.
My brother then treated us to dinner at a nearby Tenya.

We did not visit Tokyo Tower, instead I took them to Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, better known as Touchou. It was quite a long walk for the already exhausted "mbah"s, so I was shocked when I saw the main entrance was closed. Asked a guard on duty and he guided us to a different entrance for visitors who wish to go to the observatory areas. Mak tried to console my two aunts, telling them that it was akin to a KLCC observatory treat... My brother, needless to say, was thrilled with the view of Tokyo at night

And that concluded the longest/most tiring one day tour for the rombongan Cik Kiah