Selamat Hari Raya! Eid Mubarak! Happy Holidays, everybody! May the fasting and the prayers during the blessed month of Ramadan be accepted from us and from you and may Allah prolong our lives to arrive at another Ramadan in the year ahead, Amin.
Ramadan in Malaysia
“Ramadan through the eyes of foreigners in Malaysia” :: Borneo Post. I’m one of the foreigners interviewed. The article also ran in Bahasa Malaysia as “Ramadan Menerusi Kaca Mata Warga Asing Di Malaysia.”
Ramadan through the eyes of foreigners in Malaysia
Posted on August 5, 2013, Monday
KUALA LUMPUR: Zikir, which occurs before the start of fasting, azan at iftar, and the chatter of neighbours as they proceed to the surau for Tarawih prayers are cherished by Zayn Al-Abideeen Gregory, who was born in the United States.
“Perhaps these are not significant events, but in a non-Muslim country, it is not easy to experience these sounds of the surau,” said the 38-year-old when contacted by Bernama recently on his Ramadan experience in Malaysia. He currently resides in Kuching, Sarawak.
Zayn, who teaches agriculture at a local university in Sarawak, was raised in Detroit, Michigan. He converted to Islam in 1992, at the age of 17. He married a Malaysian citizen in 1997, and the family moved to Sarawak in 2003.
“During the ten years I fasted in Michigan, Ramadan was in the winter, when the days are short and the nights long. Sometimes we would fast for only 11 hours. Now my friends back home are fasting for 17 hours in the heat of summer,” said the father of seven children.
However, Zayn misses the ‘simplicity’ of Ramadan in the United States, where there are no elements of ‘commercialisation’ in the blessed month.
Aidilfitri celebration in the United States though is ‘anti-climactic,’ he said because the American Muslim community is so diverse that a shared or common Muslim way of celebrating Aidilfitri does not exist.
He added that since Muslims in the United States are scattered across the country, it is difficult to visit one another during Aidilfitri. This is not the case in Malaysia, where relatives and friends live in close proximity.
“The neighbourly warmth that I have experienced in Malaysia during Aidilfitri is remarkable,” he said, adding that the tradition of visiting family and friends enhances children’s social skills and etiquette.
According to Sufiana Sarisae, 29, who is from southern Thailand, since Ramadan is a month of blessings, observing the holy month anywhere in the world is the same. However, she noticed that Muslims in Malaysia place emphasis on Tarawih prayers during Ramadan, while Muslims in Narathiwat recite the Quran for long periods of time.
“I enjoy going to the Sultan Haji Ahmad Shah mosque in Gombak for Tarawih prayers. People from all over the world gather there for prayers,” said Sufiana Sarisae, who has been residing in Malaysia for the past five years.
When Bernama asked Imene Tabet, a 20-year-old Algerian student, about her views of Ramadan celebration in Malaysia, she replied that the celebration of the holy month in Malaysia is more spiritual .
“During Ramadan, people should examine their thoughts and change their behaviours to become better individuals. When people celebrate Ramadan away from home, they tend to be more focused on prayers,” she said.
Imene has taken a liking to Malaysian food, and her favourite dish for iftar is ‘Nasi Ayam’ (chicken rice). She believes that Nasi Ayam is easy to digest, which is why she consumes the dish before carrying out Tarawih prayers.
She will celebrate the month of Syawal by travelling to other Malaysian states to learn about Malaysian traditions. — Bernama
Review: Crusades through Arab Eyes
by Amin Maalouf
Not only did our troops not shrink from eating dead Turks and Saracens; they also ate dogs! Documentation of rampant cannibalism among the Franj comes from the Franj themselves, but the historical accounts from Arab witnesses are what makes this book so enjoyable: the cannibalism, the elective surgery by battle-axe, the trials-by-ordeal,all described by genteel observers shocked at the barbarism of the blond peril. The book covers a long period where many rulers come and go, but major figures like Nur ad-Din Zangi, Saladin and Baybars are presented in good detail, and there are many colorful digressions that fill in a picture of the times, among the major battles and changes in leadership. I especially enjoy the tone of anthropological distance from the historians quoted, as with Ibn al-Athir upon the unexpected death of Frederick Barbarossa, King of the Germans: His army dispersed, and thus did God spare the Muslims the maleficence of the Germans, who constitute a particularly numerous and tenacious species of Franj.
Habib Nuh Al-Habshi
By Abu Muhammad of Bahrus Shofa.
Photography & English translation by Bin Gregory Productions
It is related that Kiyai Agung Muhammad bin ‘Abdullah as-Suhaimi BaShaiban made a regular daily practice of reading the mawlid of the Holy Prophet s.a.w., but now and again he would miss a day. One night, he had a dream, and in that dream he met the Holy Prophet s.a.w. and Habib Nuh, who had already passed unto the Mercy of the Lord at that time. In that dream, Habib Nuh was accompanying the Prophet s.a.w. as he walked by the home of Kiyai Agung until Habib Nuh said, “O Messenger of God, let us visit the home of my friend Muhammad Suhaimi.” But the Holy Prophet s.a.w. did not wish to do so, and said, “I don’t want to visit him because this Muhammad Suhaimi always forgets me, because he abandons the recitation of my mawlid.” Habib Nuh implored the Prophet s.a.w., “I beg of you that he may be forgiven.” Only then did the Holy Prophet s.a.w. elect to enter and sit in the home of Kiyai Agung. Thus was the dream of Kiyai Agung; after seeing its signs, Kiyai Agung never again failed to recite the mawlid, even upon the open seas, or even though only two or three people sat with him in congregation.
This is an account of a dream: believe it or don’t, as you please. I relate the story here to acquaint the reader with the high spiritual station of a certain Friend of God who rests in his grave in Singapore. The one of whom I speak, and whose blessings I desire for myself and my family and the muslims one and all, is Habib Nuh bin Muhammad al-Habshi, who lived from 1788 to 1866 AD. His grave rests at Palmer Road, Tanjong Pagar, Singapore. The greatness of Habib Nuh al-Habshi became more widely known when the government of Singapore, while building a large freeway, tried to move his shrine but were unable to do so. In the end, his shrine was left untouched and to this day remains under the care of the Islamic Religious Council of Singapore.
Habib Nuh al-Habshi left the life of this fleeting world on Friday, 14 Rabi’ul Awwal 1283 H. Before he passed, he willed that he should be buried atop a small hill on Palmer Road. His will was considered odd since the spot that he had picked was well removed from the Muslim burial grounds and was situated by the sea, exposed to the erosive forces of the ocean and its pounding waves. Therefore his family decided that his remains be interred in the usual cemetery. When his funerary rites were complete and the time came to carry his remains to the cemetery, his litter could not be raised by the pallbearers. It is said dozens of men tried to lift it but none were able. In the end, they realized they must obey the will of Habib Nuh with regard to his desired burial place.
The karamat of Habib Nuh al-Habshi were evident even during his life. It is related that he was once imprisoned by the White colonists. Amazingly, Habib Nuh was able to appear outside the jail whenever he pleased, although he was shackled hand and foot in prison. When he would be seized again, again he would appear outside the prison. Finally the colonists gave up imprisoning him, as he had rendered their prison meaningless.
Another story relates how a merchant was once sailing toward Singapore. On his voyage, this ship was struck by a tremendous storm. Faced with calamity, the merchant prayed to God to save him and his boat, and vowed that if he arrived safely in Singapore he would give a gift of cloth to Habib Nuh. Praise be to Allah, he and his enterprise were saved by Allah from the ferocity of the storm. Upon reaching Singapore, he was amazed to find Habib Nuh patiently awaiting his arrival in port, whereupon Habib Nuh asked him to fulfill his vow that he had made upon the high seas.
Yet another story tells of a man preparing to set sail on a boat with a valuable cargo of goods who approached Habib Nuh to request his prayers for a safe voyage. Habib Nuh sternly forbade him to undertake the voyage. With Habib Nuh’s advice in mind, the trader decided not to ship his merchandise on that vessel. Not long after the ship had sailed, the people of Singapore were informed that the ship had caught fire and sunk.
Pictured is Habib ‘Arifin bin Muhammad al-Habshi, brother of Habib Nuh bin Muhammad al-Habshi. Habib ‘Arifin returned unto the Mercy of Allah in the year 1904 AD and is buried on Burma Road, Penang … Fatihah.
Temasek: saints past and present
Shaykh Hisham Kabbani swept through Southeast Asia this summer, traveling back and forth between Indonesia, Singapore and Malaysia, in the company of renowned nasheed singer Habib Syech Abdul Qodir Assegaf from Solo, Indonesia. SimplyIslam was organizing a huge public event, and with more than six years having passed since I last sat in his blessed company, I determined to travel to Singapore with my 15-year-old son to take part.
First off was a visit to Masjid Sultan, the heart of the old Arab quarter, for lunch at the Alaturka, where I got eggplant cooked six different ways. I love eggplant like I live in the time of cholera, so this could have been the high point of my visit right there. But just next door is Wardah Books, with a selection so fine that if you find it on the shelf, you know it’s worth reading. I left with The Crusades through Arab Eyes and Myth of the Lazy Native.
Wandering out from Bussorah Street, my son and I passed through the grounds of the Istana Kampong Glam with its lovely stand of Palmyra trees. Once the palace of a Malay Sultan, it is now the Malay Heritage Center. From there to the Madrasah Al-Sagoff, founded in 1912, presently an all-girls private religious academy with a streamlined Singaporean curriculum. Another block took us to the Malabar Mosque, behind which was a quiet graveyard marked as the Old Malay Cemetery, although no doubt full of Malabaris and Arabs as well. Some of the more prestigious graves were still well kept up, with weeds cleared, and fresh cloth tied around the headstones. My son declined to follow me in – clearly one of us has heard too many cerita hantu.
Our lodging was around the corner from the Abdul Ghafoor mosque, a gorgeous building with an Indian flavor, wedged between rows of shoplots, two blocks from a major artery. The benches within the compound were attractive for their quietude; more than once I saw older Chinese men sitting there resting from the day’s busy-ness, and inside the mosque itself, men slept on the verandahs in the late afternoon.
From time to time I’ve come across mosques with signs prohibiting sleeping. For myself, I love the sight of it: the masjid as an intimate and welcoming space. One oddity I noticed for the first time: plastic kufis! The mosque had some in the corner, like a stack of colanders in a cupboard. Men would walk in bareheaded, wear one for their salat, and then return them to the corner as they left. I appreciated the observance of the sunnah, and yet… I’m not sure this represents progress.
That evening, Shaykh Hisham arrived to cut the ribbon on Baraka Bazaar, a religious goods boutique behind Abdul Ghafoor Mosque, stocking everything from books to beads to clothing, like those stylish vests the Naqshbandis are so fond of. I managed to present my son to the Shaykh, who declared him “Better than his father!” That’s not saying much, I must admit, but I’ll take it and hope he meant far, far better, inshallah. A kind brother slipped me a complimentary CD of the hot new nasheed album Nurul Anwar by the Singapore Haqqani Ensemble, one of the bands that would play next evening. The CD itself is lovely, designed by the talented hands at Muhammadan Press. What more the music? My kids have been listening to the CD on pretty much non-stop rotation in the car ever since. [divider type=”short”]
- From the rooftops of the Abdul Ghafoor Mosque, icons of the three great world religions: Islam, Christianity, & Television
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Singapore, or Temasek as it was known long ago, has been home to many scholars and saints. None are remembered so reverently as Habib Noh. Sayyid Habib Noh Al-Habshi (1788-1866) is considered the patron saint of Singapore, and Shaykh Hisham makes a point to visit his maqam to make dua whenever he visits. The next morning my son and I hopped on the subway and made our way to the site. The hilltop where he is buried is a remarkable spot, remarkable perhaps because it is still there while everything in every direction has changed so incredibly. Directly in front rise tall office towers. A massive elevated highway curves close behind it, and just beyond that are the dockyards of Singapore, a maze of shipping containers stacked six or seven deep spreading over acres and acres to the water’s edge. But there inside the maqam is absolute tranquility.
After Jumaat, Shaykh Hisham, Habib Syech and any and all hangers-on were invited to lunch at the home of Captain Kassem. Having packed the captain’s spacious home to the corners, Habib Syech and his band threw down. Many in the room joined in the singing and clapping till the joy and pleasure of exalting Allah & His Messenger drove brothers to their feet. I captured a bit of it in the video clip below. To get the full experience, go to Sufi Live, where every nasheed, qasidah, zikr and speech from the whole trip is available to view.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8gOrrLs280
Nasheed, qasidah, zikr: these things are acts of devotion that are far better actively performed than passively received. By the time evening fell, though, I was happy to just sit and watch a good show, and the Grand Mawlid Fest, organized by the dedicated people at Simply Islam, was a very good show with a beautiful crowd. Held in a public park under a huge canopy, the event became standing room only as more and more people arrived, despite the drizzle. Habib Syech, the Singapore Haqqani Ensemble and several other groups sang and drummed for hours and it felt too short. (On the other hand, some obnoxious pop star played for 5 minutes and it felt way too long – but enough said about that.)
My son was good company throughout the trip, down for whatever transpired. Before we headed back to Sarawak though, there was one thing he wanted to do, which was to try some of the exotic foreign food of Singapore that is unavailable in Kuching, where we live. I had to commend him on wanting to stretch his horizons and explore the unfamiliar, and so before we got on the airplane …
… we hit the Burger King.
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Cot Melukut
Cot melukut
Berambang gantang.
Mana tikus ‘nyorok?
Celah kangkang!
A popular nursery rhyme for youngsters. Begin by poking the bottom of the kid’s foot, then race up their leg to tickle the inner thigh. Conceptually similar to the American “This Little Piggy Went To Market”, the Malay version has the advantage of being certified Halal by JAKIM. It translates as:
Broken grains of rice
Scattered ’round the measure’s edge.
Where hide the mice?
Between your legs!
Gantang, translated as “measure” here, is an old Malay unit of measurement roughly equal to a gallon in volume, holding around 6 lbs of dry rice. For a hapless American, dealing with metric is bad enough. When you balik kampung and talk to the orang tua, matters get more complicated. Cupak, kati, ela, batu: the weights and measures from at least four different systems are still in use by my mother-in-law, if no one else.
Local measurements have traveled abroad as well: tael is the English word for a unit of weight or currency used by Chinese traders, derived from the Malay tahil. The value of the unit, and its use, comes from China. It acquired the Malay name from trading with the archipelago, and from there it spread to English.
I’m still trying to find out what a hun/hoon is. It appears to be a Chinese unit of length smaller than an inch and bigger than a… smidgen? pinch? millimeter? Any input appreciated!
UPDATE: Brother Musa informs me that a hun is indeed a Chinese unit equal to 3/16 of an inch. Thank you!
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Other Malay contributions to English
Other Malay nursery rhymes translated
Raffles: Invasion of Java
Raffles & the British Invasion of Java
by Tim Hannigan
The book covers a fascinating, obscure moment in colonial history: the launching of Stamford Raffles’ career with the five-year invasion of Java. Those five years are rich with material that Hannigan presents with a fresh eye, sensitive to the Javanese side of the story. The author sometimes seems to be nursing a grudge against his subject – the treatment of Olivia Raffles is downright mean – but the cloud of myth around Raffles is apparently pretty thick, and the author cuts through it with some sharp observations. The moments of contact between the British and royal courts are particularly entertaining. According to the Raffles’ legend, an armed standoff in the court was defused by his skill in the Malay language. Instead, Hannigan convincingly shows, “For Raffles to start griping in Malay over the seating arrangements would have been equivalent to him berating George III in the idiom of a fishwife”. There are many episodes that get similarly perceptive treatments. The 5-year occupation marks the transition to high colonialism, and Raffles appears to have won his reputation not for being a liberal reformer but for being the imperialist’s imperialist just as the Empire was getting into full swing.
It is great material and great analysis, but the writing sometimes was distracting. There is a lot of overdescription and the alliteration jumped out all over the place: “… a few feverish friars, fast forgetting their catechism …” Once you notice it you can’t stop noticing it: “… begun plotting to place a pliant puppet…” You wish an editor had said something along the way.
All in all, I enjoyed the material and the author’s analysis a great deal. Recommended to anyone interested in the archipelago.
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Tim Hannigan’s Footnotes and Sidelights from the Story, including Malaysia’s famous Munshi Abdullah writing about Englishmen riding the green horse:
their mothers would say, “Be quiet, the drunken Englishman is coming,” and the children would be scared and keep quiet.
R&TBIOJ Goodreads page.
Traveler, the path is your footprints
By Antonio Machado
Traveler the path is your footprints and nothing more
Traveller, there is no path
You make the path by walking
When walking you make the path
And when you turn to look back
You see the path that you will never trod againTraveler, there is no path
Only sparkling reflections on the seaWhy call paths,
That which are only the furrows of fortuneEvery traveler walks,
Like Jesus on the sea
Translated from the Spanish by David Seaton
Found while Googling American’s lack of the tragic sense.