This mosque which I frequented on most Fridays is devoid of the crowd from IIB, IRDA, IWD...
What's left are locals and expatriates! They outnumbered the locals by 10%. In Doha, the locals accounted for only 10%. That applies to most of UAE. Of course in islamabad and delhi we, the foreigners, stands out like a sore thumb. Our clothing, head-gear, our facial features and even our smell gives us away. So, you can't blame them - they are foreigners! Of course they looked, sound, smelt differently...
They are, in His Eyes, His vassal - no different from you or me. Some of them can now speak fluently in at least one additional language and one dialect. Malay and hokkien for Bangladeshis and Pakistanis. For our very close neighbours, with their command of our Bahasa, they have no need of another. Many strives for excellence; hence they picked up hokkien, cantonese, tamil and english.
Me? Fluent in English, Bahasa and Javanese. Smattering of Hokkien, Cantonese, Hindi, Urdu, German and French. Really? Yes, truly. How? I have very good ears. Listened all the time, asked for explanations. So? Why can't I claim my own credit to myself for once.?
I celebrated many Eid-ul-Fitris away from home. Many in cold, windy, grey england; hot and dry islamabad, very hot and very dry doha, hot and humid delhi...
Food? Most I prepared myself. "Nasi impit" (packed rice in plastic bags), soup, "kormak", curry and "lodeh" in case friends decided to drop in. If not, I will finish them all myself. But I have never learned to bake cookies though I can bake cakes better than the usual failed souffles.
Those were my yearly menu - without fail. I love cooking. Bouillabase, chilli con carne, spagethi, szechuan soup, sweet and sour meat, chicken rice...are some of my repetoire. I will try a recipe first, then modify to suit my taste buds. The fun part is modification and substitution. Alcohol is forbidden, use vinegar and sugar. No bean sprouts, use "chives". No "tenggiri" use mackerel. Some experiments turned sour on me.
You can always get them wherever you are. London, Reading, Manchester, Liverpool - back in late 70s you can buy even durians if you are endowed. Islamabad and Delhi? Maybe not durians but lemon grass by the bushels. UAE? They can give you anything...as long as you can pay for it.
I remembered fasting during mid-summer. Was it 18 or 20 hours? Break fast at 10pm. Dawn at 2am? Then there were briefest of fasts on winter solstice. 10am to 3pm or so. Facts or fiction? Perhaps I should check these. My memory is not as it used to be.
Fasting in UK was easy. It was never hot (except for the heatwave of 76) nor too cold (except the blizzard of 81). Temptations were never present. Who would care for fish and chips to indulge in as compared to Char Kuey Tiau? Home is a formidable place. You turn left, and you can smell crab in bubbling curry, turn right and the sweet smell of lemon grass from barbecued chicken rice...ahead bubbling the tarik in a huge glass fit for two... Imagine the Air Batu Campur (equivalent to ice shavings) or Chendol (nothing compares) on a hot day. You don't have that in uk, but you do in islamabad and india though I believe you will not stomache it.
I tried them but failed to keep it down.
Back to JB
JB is like KL. Workers flock from everywhere in search of a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
On this the last day before the very long weekend, in my office on my floor, there are only 4 of us Johoreans - Faisyal, Junaidy, Muhaya and me. I think all, except me, are JB born and bred.
Like KL I expect the immigrants will rush out of JB now and head for their home towns. The highways into JB? Except lorries delivering food to singapore, there won't be many.
I have a writer's block (sickening)
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