Maulidur Rasul 1428H

Just want to share three related nasyids in conjunction with our beloved Rasulullah's birthday...

This one by Haddad Alwi and Duta (Sheila on 7) might hit well with Faizly and those who enjoy Indonesian pop

This one is an all-time favorite of mine by Sami Yusuf

And this is for those who prefer traditional stuff...

Tips I've learned (and re-learned) for a safe delivery

*Recite Surah Maryam (for a safe delivery), Surah Yusuf (for a beautiful child), Surah Luqman (for a smart child) and Surah Muhammad (for a pious child). In my case, while I have khatam the Quran once during this pregnancy (in Ramadhan), I mostly 'cheat' by listening to online Quran recitation rather than reading it myself... bad bad A.Z...

*Recite lots of zikr and make a lot of do’a continuosly.

*Ask for forgiveness from dear hubby and parents.

*Drink lots of water. Drink plenty of soy milk or just plain milk.

*Birds nest is said to help improve immune functions of the fetus and enable the mother to recover easily after giving birth. A pity I forgot to stock up when I went back to Malaysia last summer though. Duh!

*Olive oil is said to be good too – not just for the stretch mark, but also to be taken orally, a teaspoonful a day. It could work as a 'selusuh' of some sort. So, it's no wonder one of hubby's uncles is fond of giving away olive oil to his pregnant nieces...

*Eat a lot of vegetables, especially dark green leafy ones (including seaweed). Nori - mmm yummy!

*Eat a lot of other iron-rich food to prevent anaemia - meat, poultry, fish, legumes, whole-grain, but note that iron from animal products is better absorbed by the body than that from plant sources. Taking Vitamin C can help the body absorb more iron too.

*Eat a lot of dates – this is supposed to help with the birthing as well as promoting a plentiful milk supply for the baby. Eating a lot of white radish (daikon) might help breast milk production too. Tried eating a lot of daikon when I was breastfeeding Huzaifah, and alhamdulllah, it worked well as claimed by my mak bidan.

*Exercise! Pelvic exercise (Kegel), swimming, prenatal yoga and walking all are said to be good for pregnant mommies. Guess climbing 5 flight of stairs could count as good exercise too, but I must admit that I do not do it daily though, heh.

*Doctor's order (seriously!) - making love - including just cuddling, kissing and hugging - can help in many ways - relaxes the pelvic muscles, ripens the cervix, relieves tension, produces helpful hormones etc. Due to the release of oxytocin, making love is a common way overdue pregnant mommies try to bring on labor.

*Walk about, even as the contraction starts, because gravity helps the baby to move down, easing baby lower and deeper into the birth canal, pressing on the cervix and shortening the labor. Last time, I walked about at home for a few hours as it made the contraction pain more bearable than laying on the bed. By the time I reached the hospital, Huzaifah was apparently ready to say hello to the world with less than 30 minutes in final labor.

*Never tried this one, but a friend shared a tip inherited from her late mother - from the 7^th month onward, a pregnant mother might want to drink a little bit of the last rinse every time she washes her hair while reciting the selawat and making do’a for an easy labor.

*Recite surah Abasa, verse 20 (summas sabil la yassarah) as labor begins. Some swear by reading Nabi Yunus’s doa (la ila ha illa anta, subhanaka inni kuntum minazzolimin), but personally I found it to be too long in the crucial moment when breathing becomes more labored and pain becomes more acute.

*Don't be afraid - it's painful, yes, but women are built tough enough to handle this. I've heard of fathers who fainted in the labor room just from looking at all the blood... but since hubby missed Huzaifah's delivery, we thought this time around it could be a bonding experience for him to be present while I give birth...

*Again, make a lot of do'a - a quick, easy, safe delivery is after all a gift from Allah...

Additional tips are most welcomed :-)

A response to a long and loaded comment

Dear Ponderer,

First, my husband knows what I write here and he has no problem with it. No, the previous entry was not about him sulking. The entry was about a crappy birthday that resulted from a crappy week before that. I’m explaining this just in case you didn’t get that, because you inferred that hubby had made some mistakes, yet I saw none. He just had a bad week – and hence a bad birthday, that’s all.

And I did wrote in the previous entry about him not being the kind to celebrate birthdays - but I do, and I had wanted to celebrate his birthday. Yes, birthday is a good day to contemplate, to reflect on the past and all, but I don’t see any harm in making it a merry day as a way to express our gratitude to Allah for allowing us to live up to this point. (By the way, are you aware that even Rasulullah celebrated his birthday by fasting on Mondays – to mark the day he was born?) Again, I do not see any mistake made by hubby just because he had a lousy birthday. So, what exactly is the mistake that you keep referring to and claimed that I should not reveal?

As for his duties as the imam-cum-super-all-in-one here in the mosque – he tries his best to do what he could. You said that in the past an Imam did not get paid any allowance or provided a place to stay. If I may remind you – in the past, people have Tok Siak to take care of the mosque. And once in a while, the whole qariah of the mosque would assemble for a gotong royong to clean it up and make it nicer. We don’t have that here. Hubby is the imam, the siak, the secretary, and everything else in between. No, he is not working for money (he doesn’t get that much for allowance anyway), but yes I think he deserves a break sometimes from having to do everything himself. Hence I don’t see him growling on his birthday as “a mistake that should not be revealed to others because it reflects badly on him as an imam” – it was just a sign that he needed a break.

By the way, too many people feel that when it comes down to ‘kerja agama’, one has to be sincere, has to do it ‘ikhlas, lillahi taala’ because it is after all a ‘fisabilillah’ task and one will be rewarded by Allah. What many fail to appreciate is that even people who carry out ‘kerja agama’ need financial support too. After all, every other jobs, so long as they are halal, could also be classified “fisabilillah”, thus everybody should also be “ikhlas, lillahi taala”, and should not expect any monetary rewards, huh? Yet in practice, we don’t really see that happening, do we? Often we find parents who wouldn’t mind paying a small fortune for their kids’ tuition fees, but are rather stingy when it comes down to paying an ustaz to teach Al-Quran or fardhu ‘ain. Often we find people who could be oh-so-generous when it comes to belanja in the canteen, yet are tightfisted when it comes down to sedeqah for ‘kerja agama’.

And before you wonder yet again if hubby knows what I write this time – he sat right beside me as I wrote this one. So there.

What a crappy birthday...

Hubby had a pretty crappy birthday earlier this week.

We had been looking forward to a visit to either Kamogawa Sea World or Mother Farm in Chiba – but had to cancel it because something came up at the mosque.

Actually, a few things came up at the mosque the previous week.

First, the gas supply was cut for a few hours.
Then, there was a problem with the water pump in the basement – which had just been replaced last September, so we were very much perplexed when there was no water on the upper floors except for the first floor.
The water pump problem turned out to be caused by a flooded water tank area.
Then, the kitchen sink in our house clogged badly, tried to be fixed up by a friend but ended unusable due to some leakage.
We also found out that the water heater in our bath is actually 27 years old and needed a replacement badly.
Not to mention the water heater at the kitchen – not quite 27 years, but also in need of replacement as the maker no longer produce spare parts for this particular model, and it no longer functions properly.

The gas supply was cut for a few hours because apparently the bills were not settled in time. Hubby made a few calls – because normally the bills are paid elsewhere by someone else in the ICOJ, unless they specifically ask hubby to pay the bills by depositing some money in our account. There had been no request for him to pay the gas bills before and he had faxed the bills to the person normally in charge of paying the bills back in January or February.

The person claimed that he had received no such thing. Hubby then faxed the fax that he had sent earlier, to which the person claimed that he could not make the payment because he need the original stub to do so, and hubby did not send him the original stub. Hubby asked him back – what about earlier bills then? How did he settle the payment for the earlier bills? He said he either came to pick up the original stubs in the office or he asked hubby to send them by post. So, why didn’t he ask hubby to do the same this time around? Or send some money to us so that we could pay them ourselves? The person on the other line of the phone went really quiet…

Gas is needed for a lot of things – the heater, the hot water supply, for cooking (we don’t have ‘tong gas’ like we have back in Malaysia), so I asked hubby to use our money first to pay the bills, which he did, and I called the gas company to resume the service, which they did within a few hours.

Just as we felt relieved at having the gas back, suddenly there was no water in our house. The last time this happened was back in last year’s Ramadhan, and back then it was due to some problems related to the water pump in the basement. Hubby went down to check on it – found the water tank to be full, but the pump did not seem to be functioning.

Because the water pump caused a small fortune (about RM10,000), it came with free after sales service, so we called up the water pump company. A technician arrived in the evening to give it a look. Apparently the water tank area in the basement was flooded – so he asked us to clean and dry up the water tank first before he can give the water pump a proper look. Understandably, he was reluctant to give it a proper inspection, perhaps afraid of being short circuited or something.

Hubby made a few other calls to some people that night. Unlike in September when water at least reached the 2^nd floor, this time water was only available on the 1^st floor – and he had to carry a few buckets of water up to the 5^th floor, out of consideration for me.

Kamarol happened to stay with us that night, plus another Bangladeshi musafir from Hokkaido – so hubby engaged their help to clean up the basement a bit. It was filled with lots and lots of junk – plastic wares, steel poles, used clothing and all kind of waste. Hubby had never cleaned them out before this, because most of them were too heavy to be handled by a lone man. He had asked for help before from ICOJ people to clean the basement, but his request was easily dismissed and he was told in reply to ask for help from his friends to clean the place up.

Alhamdulillah, early the next morning, there was an electrician who is a friend to a friend, who agreed to come and take a look at the flooded basement. After some poking here and there plus using some equipment hubby forgot to use, they managed to dry up the water tank area a bit and got the pump working – at least to get the water up to the 4^th and 5^th floor. Another call was made to the water pump company, asking them to take another look.

They had the matter fixed somehow the following evening, to hubby’s great relief, because it was Thursday then, and it was important to have the water supply on the 2^nd floor because that is where people have their ablution and the following day was a Friday when a lot of people would be coming for Jumu’ah prayer.

However, just as I was about to rejoice in having water at the house, Kamarol became extra ‘rajin’ and tried to fix the often-clogged kitchen sink by using pipe cleaner liquid (as well as pipe cleanser pills) and an old-fashioned black rubber stick pump. His mission failed, and we had a leakage instead, rendering the kitchen sink totally out of order.

And the water supply to the 2^nd floor stopped just as Jumu’ah prayer was about to begin.

Thus Friday yet witnessed another effort by the water pump boys. They succeeded to a certain degree, with a promise of a return trip on Sunday evening.

Friday too witnessed a kind friend calling up washroom accessories suppliers to get quotations for bathroom hot water heaters, and someone promised to come and visit us and give a quotation on Monday.

Sunday, the water boys came again for yet another repair session. Hubby asked one of the guys to take a look at our out-of-use kitchen sink which he did. He tried some pumping/probing/poking, but to no use, so he ended up putting some sort of powder, asking me to refrain from using the sink for one whole day and he would return the next day to take another look.

With two different companies promising to visit us on Monday, it meant we could not go out, which also meant a cancellation of any trip to celebrate hubby’s birthday.

Which perhaps explained why he was not in a good mood that day. When I asked if there’s anything he would like me to cook for him that day – he just growled that he does not celebrate birthday, just cook whatever I felt like cooking. And he growled a lot that day, complaining about this and that – which in turn made me felt a little bit exasperated too, but I tried to contain it because it was his birthday after all.

The water pump boy returned on Monday, when everything finally returned to normal – resumed water supply on all floors, working kitchen sink in our house, and all. The guy from washroom accessories shop called us to postpone his appointment to two days later though.

As for hubby, I cooked some Indonesian rawon (East Javanese beef soup with lots of spices) and one of his favourite dish, ayam masak sos but they were left untouched. He did not even took any dinner.

But then again, it was his birthday after all. He could growl and sulk all day long if he wanted. Probably anyone else would sulk too if it happened to them – a crappy birthday following a crappy week…

To one sincere, committed officer...

When hubby read out loud news regarding the passing away of Allahyarham Datuk Dr Salleh Hassan, I immediately thought that the name sounds familiar.

I asked Mak the following day during our Skype session. Mak confirmed that she used to know him. She visited him a few hours before he passed away and visited his house the following day to pay her last respect just before he was buried in Putrajaya.

He suffered from cancer, and when Mak visited him, he could no longer speak but communicated using notes. He was Mak’s junior, and in earlier days, Mak found it easy to criticize him for his chain-smoking habit. Sometimes, when she had a chance to do so, she even took the cigarette packet from him and literally threw it away. And he would only grinned sheepishly as he listened to Mak’s lecture on how bad smoking is for his health.

Friday is usually considered a good day to pass away – it’s the holy day and chances are one who pass away on a Friday would get more congregation for ‘solat jenazah’, hence more people making do’a for him or her. And as Allahyarham Datuk Salleh was obviously a well-liked person, there were many who attended his funeral.

I have never known him personally – but I know Mak to be a good judge of character. She has high regards for the guy – lots of respect, like and admiration. She even told him once that if she could use “sayang”, then he would definitely be one of her colleagues that she really “sayang”.

“What made him so special, Mak?”

“Too many people out there are busy establishing “network”, yet in truth they are merely tukang kipas - self-promoting themselves yet are not doing substantial work to prove their worth. He wasn’t like that. He got along well with everyone without even trying. All because he did not give anybody any reason not to like him. He was very dedicated, very passionate about his work. But most importantly he was sincere, and it showed”

I may not know him personally, but Mak's description was enough to convince me that the civil service had indeed lost one great officer. We have too many a** kissers and yes-men out there that it's almost rare to find a great officer in a well-deserved position...

Here’s to one sincere, committed officer whose loss is deeply felt – Al-Fatihah.

Breech no more

“Has the baby turn its head downward?,” the nurse asked after the normal greetings.

“I am not sure. I hope so though”

She checked my tummy, pressing the lower part of my abdomen a little bit.

“Hmmm… It’s difficult to tell isn't it…”

As soon as I laid on the inspection bed, the doctor quickly scanned the lower part of my abdomen…
The baby’s head appeared on the screen.

“Yokatta! Yokatta!” the doctor applauded while clapping her hand cheerfully.
And I heaved a long meaningful “alhamdulillah”…

I’ve been pretty worried about Huzaifah’s adik because baby had been in breech position since week 28 and had remained so during the last two check up (week 30 & 32). The doctor had said that she's giving me until week 36, and if baby remains in breech position, she was going to prescribe c-section for me.

I was scared. Frightened. Terribly alarmed.

Despite being the mountain climber that I am, someone who seeks all kind of adventures through thrilling rides at amusement park, abseiling, rappelling and even once dreamed of bungee jumping – the mere thought of c-section really scared me.

“It’s not that bad,” Tipah who had gone through 2 c-section operations assured me through e-mail. “One minute you knew you were going to have a baby, and the next, your baby is already out,” was another friend’s way of reassuring me. Really, nothing to worry about...

But I was still scared.

So I tried to learn as much as possible about how to encourage the baby to change its position. Tried finding out tips from friends, family members, seniors, juniors – whether online or offline. Tried getting information from various websites on the net.

Hubby prepared air penawar by reading Ayat 54, Surah Al-Anfal.
Both hubby and I tried massaging my tummy, cajoling baby to get back to normal position.
I tried visualizing baby’s head moving down too.
I practiced sujud (knee-chest position) for more than 5 minutes after subuh and before sleeping, and slept on my right side as advised by the doctor.
The sujud is “to make space for the baby to turn back to normal positon”, claimed Ani, a junior who encountered similar problem during her 32^nd week and tried the ‘tidur tonggeng’ thingy for 10 days before baby returned to normal position in the 34^th week.

Yesterday, as I boarded the bus to go for my 34^th week check-up (I have stopped cycling beginning week 32), I prayed fervently that baby had turned to normal position, just like Ani’s baby did. I massaged my tummy gently, asking baby to help me out in this one.
Please, please, pretty please…

No words could exactly describe my joy at seeing baby’s image on the ultra-sound scan monitor – with the head upside down as it should be.

No words could exactly describe my relief of not having to anticipate going through an operation in a foreign country where I can’t speak the local language fluently and English is not used much.

Alhamdulillah…

Zain Bhikha's "Our World"

Our world

Every morning on every news flash
I hear the sorrow of the world
It seems like everybody's lost and scared
Trying to make sense of it all

And as I travel to and fro,
so many faces pass me by
I see lonely hearts living lonely lives
just biding their time
And while we call ourselves civilized,

many people living empty lives
As they drone their way through day and night

# Chorus

I pray for our world,

I pray for every child
I pray for our world

to be filled with smiles
Like the colours of a rainbow

and not just black and white
I pray for our world

to be filled with light
I pray for all of us, to choose the path that's right
Believe in Allah every day of our lives

In the evening on the TV news,

I see images of war.
I see brother killing brother

with no consequence at all.

And while those who claim to be leaders,

sell us tales of deceit.
But Allah alone knows in their hearts

what they reveal and conceal.

And while we call ourselves civilized,
We go on killing human lives
Too caught up in our own web of lies

Chorus
I pray for our world,

I pray for every child
I pray for our world

to be filled with smiles
Like the colours of a rainbow

and not just black and white
I pray for our world

to be filled with light
I pray for all of us, to choose the path that's right
Believe in Allah every day of our lives

Every mother, every father,

every daughter, every son
Don't you see, that the answer lies

only with the One

Repeat chorus

Artist: Zain Bhikha,

Album: Our World, 2003

Free Tour of Akihabara

As of 7.00 p.m. (Tokyo time) today I have finished writing and submitting all due term papers for the semester – so insya Allah I’ll have more free time after this to blog …

Anyway, talking about free – we got plenty of free stuff last Sunday when hubby took us to join the free Akihabara tour in conjunction with “Yokoso Japan!” campaign. Hubby learned about it from Syah and wanted to join it the previous week, but I was just too tired after one week of attending intensive course (with mid-term paper, presentations and what nots) and the weather was not that great anyway, so we postponed the trip to last Sunday.

It wasn’t the first time we visited Akihabara, of course – after all, it’s only about 30 minutes away from our place by bike. But they did took us to places we have never been before – the Robot kingdom and Tokyo Anime Center. We could not see animation artist at work because we went there on a Sunday, but yeah, we were pretty much satisfied with the two hours tour.

The free stuff? Well, for one, I won a mug in a lucky draw at the stall promoting Vaio/Microsoft Vista in front of Yodobashi Akiba (the largest electrical store in Akihabara). Despite numerous attempts by hubby – he only managed to get lots of post-it notes. Huzaifah got three fancy balloons at the same stall too.

Then, we answered some questionnaires at the Tokyo Anime Center and each of us got a nylon bag each. Hubby of course had no idea what the questionnaires (in Nihongo) was all about – but he filled the form anyway for the bag’s sake.

There were only four of us – Jason from Canada, Joshia, a Polish married to a Japanese who’s been living in Japan for 18 years, hubby and I – in the English language tour, and two free lunch coupons were up for grabs. I had already packed nasi goreng (yes, I know, I almost always prepare nasi goreng as bento everytime we go sightseeing) for lunch, but thought it would be nice to win the coupon since it’s quite rare for us to enjoy dining in a nice restaurant. I even thought that it wouldn’t be too bad even if only either hubby or I won the coupon and the other have to pay. But alhamdulillah, as it happened – we both won the coupons!

So we had a nice free lunch at Tokyo Food Theater 5 + 1 – a nice restaurant with plush chairs, soft lighting and food served in fine china. The original set menu was unsuitable for us though, so we had to request for some adjustments, which the chef had no trouble complying to. I had a Japanese Hana lunch set, comprising rice, yaki zakana, pickles, tofu and miso soup with vegetables. Hubby had an Italian lunch set made of spaghetti in tomato, shrimp and squid sauce, plus salad and bread. Huzaifah had a little bit of both plus lots of orange juice.

A little bit of sightseeing on our own after that and we were back home by Maghrib…

Gong xi fa cai.. .

I should have posted this a lot earlier - but the truth is, it only hit me that it was CNY a day after CNY (as the lecturer for my winter course offered his wishes for those who celebrate it). Duh!

Anyway, for all who celebrate the lunar new year, have a great, prosperous, fun and healthy year! Gong Xi Fa Cai!

(Still, it also hit me that my baby might not be too pleased to be born in the year of oink oink... alamak, sorry la sayang ye...)

#####

Something big happened in our family during CNY - my younger brother finally got engaged, alhamdulillah.

Well, I must admit that my parents are a bit choosy when it comes to approving Abang’s choice. He went out with several girls until he met his current fiancée about 4 or 5 years ago. Sarah is 8 years his junior, is now in her final year of degree, but she has won us all over since the first meeting. She’s our second cousin actually, the daughter of Ayah’s cousin and when Ayah first invited her over to our place, it was to strengthen ties between relatives rather than wooing a potential daughter-in-law. After all, back then we kind of pitied her, being so far away from her family in Kedah, all on her own in for the first time in a big city to get her diploma. But it wasn’t long when we started noticing that Abang would be home early whenever she came for a visit…

Being the sweet, kind, polite, clad-in-tudung-labuh-Muslimah as she is, Mak and Ayah had no trouble at all in approving her to be their prospective daughter-in-law. She gets along well with me too, and she even gets along well with Ummi, our biological mother. The only problem was her family who were rather reluctant to see her marrying my brother. It had nothing to do with my brother actually – he’s after all, quite a good catch, what with doing rather well as a self-entrepreneur (despite never finishing his degree at UUM or KDU or UiTM or MMU – he said he’s just like Bill Gates; he doesn’t really need a degree to prove his worth) and basically a practicing Muslim. The reason for her family’s initial unwillingness was due to old family history - really ancient family history. And for a while my brother seemed to be the victim of sins of the grandparent/father/father’s siblings…

We tried approaching the family a couple of year ago, but sensing the heavy reluctance back then, Mak decided to wait. “Be patient, Allah is with those who are patient. Besides, with passing time, their reluctance might be thinning… If it’s meant to be, insya Allah there’ll be some opening for us some day”

It came as a wonderful surprise when Mak told me over the phone a couple of weeks ago that they would be going to Kedah to propose Sarah. Mak said she’s glad that she could get this done before coming to Tokyo, since we have been waiting for ‘the opening’ for quite some time now. Abang is turning 31 this year and doesn’t seem to be interested in anybody else but Sarah, so my parents had been pretty worried – what if the family wouldn’t give in after all? But as it turned out, Sarah herself had been pretty steadfast in her decision to marry him; stubbornly saying no to all other ‘risik’ proposals, so much so that her mother began to worry about her not marrying anyone at all if they didn’t allow her to be with my brother.

Alhamdulillah they are now happily engaged. The date for the wedding has not been set as yet – but I told Mak to go ahead even if I might not be able to return home for the occasion. Mak told me that Abang said he wouldn’t mind just having the nikah first and the kenduri later, to which I disagreed. It wouldn’t be fair to Sarah, especially since we learned that one of her uncles is trying to persuade her mother to have a two-in-one kenduri for both Sarah and his daughter at their kampong. It’s different had Sarah and Abang been studying/working in the overseas and decided to just have a simple nikah ceremony – that would be quite acceptable. But under their circumstances, I believe Sarah deserves a warm reception, whatever it is that we could afford. (Abang has been planning all along on having his kenduri in a hotel – somewhere fit to invite his business associates and hotshots – but his budget is rather tight at the moment). Mak is thinking of maybe just having it at a community hall somewhere – a really “sederhana tetapi meriah” kind of reception, and I definitely agreed with her.

The truth is, I don’t want Sarah to regret not having her real big day like one of my aunts who missed it. Chik got married a month after Teh, and a couple of months before Ayah Lang. Because my late Tok Ayah could not afford having two kenduri in two months, Chik was married off in a simple nikah ceremony first, and shared a two-in-one kenduri together with Ayah Lang a few months later. As it happened, on her husband’s side, the kenduri sambut menantu was also postponed a few months so that they could have a two-in-one kenduri with her husband’s brother. Yes, they are still happily married after 16 years, blessed with 6 kids, but somehow I felt like Chik was cheated of having her own big day…

Anyway, I hope everything will work out well, somehow, someway…

Yuki Yuki Yuki

The decision to visit Minamiuonuma Yuki Matsuri (Snow Festival) was rather hasty. Hubby found out about it in a “Yokoso Japan!” booklet he picked up at a guesthouse in Asakusa and voiced out his desire to visit it. He had been talking about wanting to visit Sapporo Yuki Matsuri but we both knew that was quite out of our league since traveling to and staying in Sapporo could gravely burn our pocket.

He persuaded me to try asking Kak Eda in Urasa to see if we could get to stay one night at her place over the weekend. It was a long weekend after all since the following Monday was a public holiday. Kak Eda used to teach in my former college, although not quite exactly my own lecturer since she taught Accounting and I was a Law student. But we have been keeping tab on each other since she discovered my blog (and I became her blog reader too), and was kind enough to visit our house when she stayed in Tokyo (while her husband was undergoing an internship in Roppongi) last summer. Since it was already late, I just sent her a c-mail.

She called back on Friday afternoon, as I was on the bus, going for my 30-weeks maternity check-up. She said okay - that her family had no travelling plan over the weekend, no plan of receiving other guests and it wouldn’t be a bother at all to have us at their place. I asked her if she knew any single Malay male around who wouldn’t mind offering a place to stay for another Malay guy (Kamarol) who was also interested in going, but she said unfortunately, the only single Malay guy in IUJ is staying in the dormitory and no outside guests are allowed to spend a night there. I then asked her for more favour – to provide the telephone numbers of hotels in Urasa so that I could pass it over to Kamarol. We already tried searching for it in the Internet – but to not much success. Kamarol said he wouldn’t mind paying a little bit for accommodation since it would be his last chance of visiting a Yuki Matsuri before graduating in March and return to Malaysia.

He changed his mind though – which left me and hubby (plus Huzaifah) on our own. Saturday morning saw us walking to Asakusa eki at around 7.30 a.m, so that we could catch the 8.39 Urban Takasaki Line train at Ueno. The train was packed – probably due to the long weekend, as we saw lots of school kids and teenagers bringing camping equipments with them. We decided to take the normal train rather than the shinkansen because the ticket was cheaper by half, although more-than-twice lengthy in term of time. (1 ½ hour by shinkansen, which cost about 8,000 yen, 4 hours by normal train with 3 transfers and cost a little less than 4,000 yen). We had to time our departure carefully to lessen the waiting period (during transfers) and to ensure we boarded the rapid instead of local trains wherever possible.

The sights as we travelled outside Tokyo were rather marvellous – blue skies, clear streams and rivers flowing so peacefully, majestic mountains, wide open space with large houses and playgrounds…

Reached Urasa eki around 1.00 p.m. and met Abang Bad, Kak Eda’s hubby for the first time. Had lunch at Kak Eda’s place - she prepared pulut with ikan masin (yummy) and fried chicken, while I brought some left-over nasi Pakistan & ayam masak merah from the previous day. Rested and prayed before we left for Muikamachi, where the Yuki Matsuri was held.

Not much snow this year – so even before we entered the Yuki Matsuri area, Kak Eda could tell that it wouldn’t be as grand as it was last year, when they had a majestic ice sculpture of a castle with a grand made-from-ice stage. There were a lot more ice sculptures in various forms, lighted up with candles, that could be seen along the main road last year too. But then, since there’s no snow in Tokyo so far – and there might be no snow at all this year in Tokyo – hubby and I tried to make the best of what we could.

Along with Kak Eda’s kids, hubby and Huzaifah tried ice sliding as soon as we entered the Yuki Matsuri area. Huzaifah was not wearing waterproof pants nor waterproof boots (luckily I managed to borrow one pair that suited me nicely, a peninggalan by a former Malaysian who used to stay in Urasa before Kak Eda) – yet he insisted on walking in the snow although I would rather had him in his baby car. Nevertheless I was glad to note that he really enjoyed the snow. While snow is nothing new to me – I was pretty jakun to enter a kamakura (igloo) for the first time ever. The kamakuras were not as white as they were last year, and a few were actually melting as we entered them – but still, it was kind of cool to experience entering one.

There were many stalls offering free sake, amazake (sweet sake) and what nots for visitors to enjoy in the kamakura. We were approached a few times by ojiisan from different stalls, inviting us to try the sake – but I told them that we could not drink sake. “Sore wa zannen deshita ne” (A pity, isn’t it), one of the ojiisan exclaimed as he finally realized that we were not going to accept his insistent offer, but I smiled anyway and moved along. I guess we got that remark pretty often – most Japanese could not imagine life without alcohol and thus find it very difficult to comprehend Muslims who abstain from drinking.

Met some Indonesians at the stall area, not far from the main stage. Chit chatted a bit, took some group photos and then explored the stalls. Typical matsuri stalls – where they sold all kind of food from yaki soba (mee goreng), yaki zakana (ikan bakar), kare-raisu (nasi kari?) to potato fries, crepes and waffles. Then there were also some stalls selling souvenirs and some ‘kedai tikam’. Yes, this is a nation filled with people who really enjoy gambling – from having temporary ‘kedai tikam’ for young kids at matsuri to having pachinko parlors and lottery booths everywhere.

We left the yuki matsuri area around Maghrib. Abang Bad then took us to a fashion mall nearby – with only three outlets, one of it being Birthday, a store selling kids and babies stuff. Hubby looked after Huzaifah and Kak Eda’s kids while their parents went to pray and I started a shopping spree. I mean, there were plenty of stuff on sale – for Huzaifah and his adik. Fortunately, the shop was closed at 7.00 p.m., so I managed to curb myself from excessive spending (not to mention adding a lot of weight to our luggage)

Abang Bad took us for a short tour around IUJ campus before heading back to their house. According to him, many students found that completing their course there (it’s a graduate-courses-only university) to be rather tough, so much so that currently there are no JPA scholars (read: PTD officers on study leave) studying there.

Maybe the fact that Urasa is pretty rural too contributes to the absence of JPA scholars here. But I must say that after being so used to the crowdedness of Tokyo, it was refreshing to enjoy wide open space and peace in Urasa. Kak Eda told us that most of the population in Urasa are rice growers, and rice from Niigata area (including Urasa) is well-known for its unsurpassed quality. I guess all the fresh air from the surrounding mountains must be one of the contributing factors.

We were greeted with snowfall first thing the following morning. It never fails to amaze me how serene it always seem when snow falls. It was still grey, not quite sunny, yet there’s something magical as we witnessed the earth being enveloped by whiteness. Huzaifah seemed to be in awe when he first saw snow coming from the above – nothing surprising since I was pretty much a jakun myself when I first experienced snowfall about a decade ago.

It was rather mortifying, but Huzaifah decided to leave a small ‘souvenir’ in the room where we stayed by leaking while his father was changing his diaper. Normally we change his diaper on a mat – and hubby actually was using his blanket at that time, but Huzaifah was moving around so much and then all of a sudden just started spraying… I was getting ready to pray and for a while was rather taken aback by the event as I distraughtly told Kak Eda what happened. (She actually cleaned up the stain while I prayed – and looking back, I should have done that myself, but at that time, I guess I was just not thinking straight.) Not to mention that Kak Eda’s kids have to rearrange their stuff all over again because Huzaifah kept ‘rearranging’ stuff in the room (so much so that hubby had to turn the book shelves to face the wall to disable Huzaifah from keeping ‘mengemas’)

Anyway, we finally left the house after Zohor and went to a ski/sled/snowboard area about 5-minutes drive away. While everybody else enjoyed sledding, I decided to kill the time by making a yuki daruma (snowman). Due to the not-so-fine snow and the fact that I was working on it mostly by myself, I only managed to make a small one – with help from everybody for the finishing touches – Kak Eda put her self-knitted muffler around the yuki daruma’s neck, her daughter and son looked for suitable sticks for the yuki daruma’s nose and hands, her son carved the eyes and lent his gloves and her daughter finally put the sledding board as the yuki daruma’s hat.

Hubby took some photos at the ski area while the rest of us took a breather and warmed ourselves at the rest area. Huzaifah even managed to wheedle some crisps (luckily, edible ones) from some Japanese strangers when I was not looking after he was done with coaxing some pieces from Kak Eda’s kids. So, I guess it was just the perfect time to go and do some snack shopping at a supa before leaving Urasa.

By the time we were done with snack shopping and reached Urasa eki, there was still plenty of time to kill. So we had soba together since Kak Eda’s son apparently associates a trip to the eki with having soba at a stall there. The kake soba was nice – but yes, just like Abang Bad said, chances are we wouldn’t even dream of ordering such plain noodle in Malaysia where we’re spoilt for choices.

We boarded the 4.12 p.m. train from Urasa – bidding our final goodbye to Kak Eda’s family less than 10 minutes prior to our departure time. As Huzaifah started to nap, I continued reading “Girls’ Night In” – a compilation of short stories by chick-lit writers (I know, I know – I’m feasting on chick-lits like nobody’s business. Not to mention that I have also finished reading Sophie Kinsella’s “Can You Keep a Secret?” and “The Undomestic Goddess” right after I submitted my last final paper due for Fall term). More than 4 hours later, we reached Ueno eki, where we (stopped to use the restroom and) strolled around the station area a bit before taking a train to Minamisenju. We took a taxi home – the first taxi trip for Huzaifah in Japan – because by then both hubby and I were not too keen on taking the approximately 20-minutes walk, what with the heavy backpack and the chilly night.

It was a good trip – the snow might be less than last year, the yuki matsuri a scale down too, but being at the receiving end of Kak Eda’s family’s warm hospitality more than made up for any setback, so there…

Twenty yet as sinless as a baby

"Will my parents go to paradise? They are good people, you know. They deserve rewards for their good deeds, right?”

How does one answer that question posed by someone who is interested in becoming a Muslim but has a lot of worries and concerns about this and that?

I gave her rather an awkward smile and muttered something along the line of “Hmm… maybe you can learn more about that later…”

Paradise and hell is not an easy matter to be discussed. I mean, while there’s an ayat or hadith saying that whoever seeks a religion other than Islam will be one of the losers in the Hereafter, there’s also the belief in Allah being the AlMighty who finally decides who goes where. And who’s to say that the girl’s parents will not go to paradise – who knows if they decide to embrace Islam in the future, and be better than born-Muslims?

The girl has been learning about Islam on her own, mostly from books and reading materials published by Japan Islamic Center. Being a student at International Christian University and with a background of Shinto family, it wasn’t until she met a Kuwaiti guy during a short-term English course in York last summer when she started to have an interest in Islam.

The Kuwaiti guy introduced some basic principles in Islam, and she found out more on her own as soon as she returned to Japan, just as she had promised him. I was not quite sure why she picked Asakusa mosque to convert though, since her house in Nishi Kasai is nearer to Gyotoku and her university in Mitaka is closer to Otsuka. I thanked Allah anyway, for giving me the opportunity to know her and witnessed her conversion.

Twenty is the coming-of-age in Japan. It’s such a big deal that Japan even has a public holiday to celebrate people turning twenty (the second Monday of January). She chose to embrace Islam a day before her twentieth birthday. Where others might celebrate their twentieth birthday by legally drinking alcohol or smoking cigarettes, she decided to celebrate hers by refraining from alcohol and all haram substances for good.

The first time she visited the mosque was more for a chit-chat – a counselling of some sort – to discuss her concerns and worries. She is still staying with her parents after all, and becoming a Muslim means she has to make a lot of adjustments – such as not eating pork and other haram substances. She was especially worried about telling her parents because she knew her father does not look favourably at Muslims (they always show Muslims as terrorists on the TV) and her mother would be devastated because her only daughter might not be marrying a respectable Japanese guy with decent family background after all. She believed that her elder brother would be more accepting though, because he is quite open-minded when it comes down to making personal choices in life.

“I was planning on telling my parents that I’m going on a diet, thus I cannot eat any kind of meat,” she confessed. I told her that if she’s not ready, it’s not compulsory to tell her parents about her conversion. And if it’s easier (and makes sense too) to tell them that she’s on a diet to avoid them asking questions about her not consuming meat, then why not. After all, it’s true that she would be going through a new diet – the Muslim diet.

She asked about praying, fasting, wearing scarf and if I ever got bad treatment from others for being a Muslim… She shared her doubts about becoming a practising Muslim since she thinks it would be difficult to pray at her university and she doesn’t want to draw too much attention by wearing scarf, especially since she’s attending a Christian university.

I told her not to worry too much about these things, since they might hinder her from embracing Islam, where else first and foremost what is more important is for her to proclaim her faith in Allah as the One True God and Rasulullah as His last messenger. “Don’t worry too much, once you become a Muslim, Allah will guide you. Besides, you still have a lot to learn, and insya Allah I will introduce you to some other Japanese muslimah, since they might be able to offer more advice and guidance.”

There are times I felt not quite adept and incompetent as the imam’s wife – and that was one of the moments. It’s different because I was a born Muslim, with a rather religious family background. While I can imagine, I have no real experience of being anxious to become a Muslim. I have no anxieties about facing parents’ objections in order to become a Muslim. I have no worries about praying, fasting and wearing scarf in public because I had been trained to do so since I was still a child. Thus I have a lot of respect for people who become Muslim by choice, and even higher for those who become practising Muslim within a short period of time – because I realize that it must not have been easy for them…

She returned to the Mosque one Sunday morning, as she promised, this time carrying two copies of passport-sized photos and her Insurance card as proof of identification. She brought along the navy blue scarf I gave her as a present when she first came and asked me to help her put it on just before she proclaimed the shahadah. She happily told me that she had confessed to her parents about her wanting to convert the day before and alhamdulillah they had accepted the news well. Throughout the process of shahadah and her first briefing on Rukun Iman and Rukun Islam, she paid close attention to what hubby said (and I interpreted) looking oh-so-serious about learning , but more importantly she looked serene, far different from the distraught-looking girl she first appeared a few days before.

After listening to some suggestions from hubby and Rusdi (who acted as one of the witnesses), she chose Sofea as her Muslim name. It means pure or beautiful and it matches her Japanese name - Sofea Haruka. She stayed on even after lunch (I cooked mee bandung) to perform wuduk (ablution) and solat. It wasn’t until after Asar when we said goodbye, and I was glad to note that she kept her scarf on even after she left the mosque.

As I watched her walking to the bus stop, I could not help thinking – what better way to celebrate coming-of-age than to start anew as sinless as a baby…

A day in Yokohama

I’ve been itching to blog about this for quite some time…

However, there was a paper on International Politics that I had to submit last week.
Then, there were two papers on Globalization of Culture and Asia that I had to submit last Tuesday.
One more paper to go – due to be submitted by next Tuesday, so I’ve decided to take a short break now and blog a little bit (mind you, I have taken breaks in between the three papers – finishing Sophie Kinsella’s “Shopaholic and Sister” and Iris Johansen’s “The Ugly Duckling” – resulting in me finishing my papers at the very last minute… I know, I have a bad sense of priority…blergh...)

I had a two-week break in late December until early January. Told hubby that it would be a great time to do some travelling since I was feeling rather fit and we still only had to take care of one baby… So, we considered some options – including going to Niigata, or Hiroshima, or Kyoto/Osaka using JR’s seishun 18 kippu (dirt cheap train tickets to be used during certain periods of the year). As it happened – hubby was not quite free during these two weeks though. First, he had to prepare to be the Imam for Solat Eidul Adha in the Malaysian Embassy. Then, he was invited to be a guest speaker at a Seminar Keluarga Muslim organized by AMIR a few days after that. Not to mention that the mosque was visited by people from various groups for various programs during the two weeks. And on the last Sunday before school re-opened, there was that wedding I mentioned earlier, between Mariam-san and Jehan-san.

I think it was partly because he felt guilty for not taking me anywhere and partly because he too wanted to discover some new place, hubby suggested going to Yokohama on Monday, the last day before school re-opened. I was not keen on the idea because I had to go to school the next day and we often return home late whenever we go out for such excursion. Hubby persisted, did all the homework on Yokohama (finding the fares, the interesting places to visit etc on the Net) that in the end I just didn’t have the heart to say no.

So, that Monday morning, I woke up earlier to prepare breakfast and lunch (nasi goreng), got Huzaifah ready and off we went. Unfortunately, I realized that I had left my wallet at home as we were about to enter the train station. Alhamdulillah hubby carried some cash with him too, so we decided to just go ahead without having to go back and pick up my wallet at home. Yup we travelled all the way to Yokohama without me carrying any ID or ATM cards (it’s important for gaijin to carry our IDs with us all the time because there’s no telling when we would be asked to produce our alien card by some patrolling policeman who has nothing better to do). Tawakaltu a’lallah ajelah…

Since I did not do any reading on Yokohama (like I did with Hakone), I decided to let hubby led the way. But he didn’t seem to be all that well-versed like I hoped, so in the end, I had to do lots of the “navigation” while we were there.

Anyway, we both decided that Yokohama is much prettier than Tokyo – cleaner, more organized (no messy electrical/communication wires overhead and we did not see any ‘under construction’ signs on the road during the day) and the people are a bit friendlier. We took a 45 minute ride on the Sea Bass (perhaps to differentiate it from the Tokyo Sea Bus) from Yokohoma Bay Quarter to Yamashita Koen, stopping by Minato Mirai and Aka Renga.

Huzaifah obviously enjoyed the ferry ride, running back to front numerously – which got me worried but his father said to just monitor him, and not stop him from enjoying himself, so long as he did not disturb others. Alhamdulillah we didn’t get any dirty look from other passengers and the ferry itself was not filled to the max, so Huzaifah had plenty of room to run about, sometimes with people mumbling “kawaii” as he passed them…

Yamashita Koen was another place where Huzaifah had a great time running here and there. He’s getting pretty fast now, so it wasn’t easy to keep up with him, what with the extra weight that I carried and all... I worried about him running into a cyclist, or a bigger kid, or a dog… but alhamdulillah none of that happened. I guess sometimes a mother just can’t help worrying a tad too much…

We took photos of the recently closed-to-public Hikawa Maru and Marine Tower. Once called the "Queen of the Pacific", Hikawa Maru used to be a luxury cargo-passenger ship, operating between 1930-1960, connecting Japan with Seattle and Vancouver. Due to a decrease in visitors, it was closed to public beginning 25^th December 2006. Marine Tower, the largest on-land lighthouse in the world, another famous landmark of Yokohama, was also closed on the same day, due to similar factor. The Yokohama City Office had taken over the management of Marine Tower and it is expected to be re-opened in 2009. Although there is a plan for Hikawa Maru to be re-opened too, the date is yet unknown.

Then we walked to Chukagai, the biggest China Town in Japan. Since it happened to be a public holiday, the place was so crowded that I asked hubby to go ahead and take photos on his own while Huzaifah and I waited at one of the four entrance gates. From what I could see, the place was lined with mostly Chinese restaurants and Chinese snack stalls – mostly selling pork-filled dumplings. So, I guess I didn’t miss much by not exploring it thoroughly.

Next, we took a train to Minato Mirai – the central attraction of the new, modern Yokohama. Minato Mirai is, among others, home of Landmark Tower (tallest building in Japan), the yacht-shaped Intercontinental hotel, the Queen's Square shopping mall and the Cosmo World amusement park.

We walked along Queen’s Square, bought some drinks and buns at a konbini there and then strolled to the neighboring Cosmo World. There is no entrance fee for Cosmo World, and although I would have loved a roller coaster ride or two, my condition did not permit me to do so. Thus we ended up taking just one ride – on Cosmo Clock 21, which stands at 115m, and reputed to be one of the tallest ferris wheels in the world. Even then, hubby insisted on waiting until nightfall before taking the ride, “baru pemandangan cantik sikit,” or so he claimed. Alhamdulillah the queue was not that long when we boarded the gondola, but 15 minutes later as we exited it, the line had grown considerably long – made up by mostly teenagers and couples in early twenties.

Huzaifah yet again had a wonderful time during the ferris wheel ride, jumping excitedly as he took in the wonderful sights – of not only Yokohama city, but the sea as well as sun setting behind Mount Fuji. I later told Mak how excited he was, showing no sign of fear of height in the gondola, and Mak’s response was maybe we should consider training him as a jet fighter pilot one day as it is difficult to find Muslims who are trained to be high-precision pilot and all. (Oh well, sometimes I think Mak watches too much Discovery/National Geographic channel…)

We bought a souvenir photo of our family taken just before we boarded the ferris wheel. As it costed 800 yen, hubby was a bit reluctant to buy it, but I insisted on it anyway because we bought no other souvenir to mark our first trip to Yokohama (we intend to have a repeat trip – maybe to Hakkeijima Sea Paradise,Minato Mieru Oka Koen, Aka Renga and Motomachi/Yamate).

Then we walked to Sakuragicho eki to take the subway to go to Azamino, to visit a newfound acquaintance’s place. More click-clicking of camera as there were some interesting places along the way. I let hubby did most of the snapping as I pushed Huzaifah's baby car towards the Queen's Mall indoor passageway to avoid the cold wind. Saw a Cold Stone Creamery outlet in Landmark Tower buidling, and thought it would be a better place to have ice cream than the store in Roppongi because it was warmer inside the building.

It took us about 30 minutes to reach Azamino on the subway, but when we arrived there Soffian, who had so kindly invited us for dinner at his house, was already waiting for us with his son. We had never met before - in fact hubby just learned about Soffian from one of his Indonesian neighbors who attended one of the programs held during winter break in the mosque – but apparently Soffian had already known hubby since he attended the Solat Eidul Adha in the embassy. He made a remark somewhere along the line that the recent khutbah was rather refreshing and relevant to the audience – and I was glad to hear that, to know that at least someone actually paid attention…

It was easy to hit it off with Farah, his bubbly wife. She looked so familiar that I thought we might have met before, but she said she got similar remarks a lot, but no, she didn’t think we have ever met before. I learned a thing or two about maternity care in Japan from her and was rather impressed with the way she communicated with her two kids. Abang, her 5-year-old first born, is fluent in Nihongo but not BM, so he spoke more to me than hubby. His knowledge on trains in Japan was so impressive, that I thought if there’s such a thing as an episode of Kid TV Champion on trains, he might be a strong contender. He collects lots and lots of train models, and even the calendar under the transparent dining table cover featured different trains in Japan.

We finally said goodbye at around 9.00 p.m., inviting Soffian’s family to visit us in Asakusa. Farah said that her parents might be visiting them later and if they go to Asakusa, maybe they can visit us in the mosque.

Soffian sent us to take the Den-en-toshi line train from Tama Plaza, and we changed to Ginza line at Omotesando with little difficulty (because Den-en-toshi/Hanzomon line and Ginza line shared the same platform at Omotesando eki). We reached home around 11.00 p.m., exhausted yet glad that finally we got to travel someplace other than Tokyo during my school break…