John Walker Lindh Revisited

You should read Tom Junod’s article “Innocent” about John Walker Lindh.  It’s probably the first serious story written about JWL in years.  I had been meaning to link to the blog of another Sulayman, who has a thorough biography of JWL.  It complements the Junod article well.  I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed reading them both.  Lindh’s story tugs at me in a way that those of many others wrongfully imprisoned in GWOT do not.

[I’ve written about him previously.]

Masjid India, Kuching

Masjid India is perhaps the oldest standing masjid in Kuching, though the nearby Masjid Bahagian is built on a hill top that held an older structure. Masjid India is so named because the small Kuching Indian community requested the land to build the mosque from the first White Rajah, James Brooke, in the late 1800’s. Over time, the Indians, who were mostly traders, built shop houses adjoining one another around the perimeter of the deeded land, until the masjid was completely contained. Only a few modest signs mark the main entrances into the enclosed compound, such that upon subsequent visits I still did not notice them. Only after having my lunch at a “mamak” restaraunt and hearing the call again did I enquire from the shopkeeper where I might make salat. He directed me to the back of his store. Past the bathrooms, through the kitchen I went, till I stepped through a doorway and found myself on the grounds of the masjid.

The masjid is very modest. Grungy may be a better word. It is dimly lit, since the open spaces between the backs of the shops and the roof of the masjid have been roofed over with corrugated metal sheets to protect against the heavy seasonal rains. The rugs in the main hall look worn; only thin vinyl sheeting covers the bare cement in the outer prayer areas. The masjid is clad in wood siding thickly covered with greenish paint. The views away from the masjid terminate abruptly at the fading whitewash coating the rear ends of the shophouses. The mihrab is decorated with a blend of small greyish tiles more often seen in bathrooms. One formal entrance squeezes between shops selling scarves, clothes and the like. Another informal entrance is barely wide enough for a toddler to pass – most people must turn their shoulders to fit through (my toddlers are presented there for scale, with their aunty). It comes out in the bulk storage area of a spice and dry goods store.

The people inhabiting the area in the off hours add to the gritty feeling. In between prayer times, a few men can be found resting here and there. The masjid’s location at the end of several bus lines means many visitors are transient, on their way to somewhere else. The small number of blind people who eke out an existence around the district (by selling packets of tissues on a donation basis, actually a nice practice to prevent the appearance of begging) can often be found taking refuge from the crowds.

Despite all that, the masjid is surprisingly pleasant. It is quieter than you would imagine during the day despite the bustle outside. Something about its mystery and age make it very appealing to me. Among the relics not often found in masajid any more is a large drum called a beduk. As I mentioned elsewhere, such drums where used to draw attention prior to the calling of the adhan, in the days before microphones and loudspeakers. My favorite detail of all is the wudu area. The only unroofed area of the masjid, the middle of the wudu area is filled with potted plants making use of the “gray” wudu water that would otherwise go down the drain wasted, while enlivening the masjid with a bit of green. I would love to see this idea incorporated in other masajid. All in all, the India Street district is perhaps the earliest example of that modern Malaysian innovation, a shopping mall with a built-in prayer area.

Jesus Christ The Son of Mary and His Blessed Mother

Our relationship with the entirety of our liege-lords the Prophets consists in belief, love, faith, and the learning of lessons and wisdoms from their stories, the reports that come from them, and their lives. We may hear, for example, that the father of Prophets, our liege-lord Abraham, upon him peace, stands out in his connection to us, in a way, because Primordial Monotheism (al-hanîfiyya) is ascribed to him; also, because he is one of the forefathers of our liege-lord Muhammad – upon him blessings and peace; and because he actually supplicated for God to send Muhammad at the end of times.

Moses, upon him peace, obtained a special characteristic in his connection to us in the fact that he is the one that advised our liege-lord Muhammad – upon him blessings and peace – to ask God Most Glorious and Exalted for leniency when the prayer was made obligatory – fifty daily prayers.

However, our liege-lord the Christ, upon him peace, stands out in his connection to this Community of Islâm (Umma). Together with the lessons we take from God Most High in the Qur’ân and from the words of the Beloved in the Sunna – God bless and greet him and his House and Companions – in the reports about our liege-lord Jesus, the jihad of our liege-lord Jesus, the high character of our liege-lord Jesus, the values of our liege-lord Jesus, the immense rank of our liege-lord Jesus before his Lord, the superlative knowledge of our liege-lord Jesus which he received from his Lord, in addition, WE, THE MASSES OF THE MUSLIMS, HAVE A SPECIAL CONNECTION WITH A CERTAIN GREAT MISSION OF OUR LIEGE-LORD THE CHRIST.

Shaykh GF Haddad translates a talk given in Arabic at Dâr al-Fatwâ in Beirut , Lebanon on 10 January 2003 by the Shaykh AL-SAYYID AL-HABIB `ALI JAFRI OF YEMEN – Dhul-Qi`da 1423

via UmmZaid

The Yard: Bunga Kantan

The variety of herbs and spices used in Malaysian cooking is incredible until you realize this is where all the spices came from in the first place. Plenty of spices like cloves, cinnamon, and pepper are traded around the world. Some, for whatever reason, are still unknown outside of the region. One of these is Bunga Kantan, known in English as Torch Ginger and in Latin as Etlingera elatior. Bunga Kantan is in the ginger family, and sends green shoots out from large rhizomes just like common ginger, but the shoots are enormous, capable of growing several meters in height when the plant is happily established. Down at the base of the plant, smaller shoots are produced that at first look like the leafy ones, but soon take on a pinkish cast at the tip. These shoots, which only grow about a foot tall, slowly open up into thick, fleshly, deep pink petals that resemble flowers. I suppose they are flowers, except they don’t appear to have a reproductive function. They are gorgeous enough to cut for table ornaments, and you might sometimes see them used as such in hotels or fancy restaurants.
[Update: they sure do have a reproductive function. My Kantan has reached enormous proportions, and left undisturbed, the flowers have developed fruit. Picture forthcoming.]
But their primary use is culinary. Bunga Kantan has a wonderful fresh spicy flavour. It holds its pink color even when cooked, adding a lovely look to a dish. It is an essential ingredient in the famous sour fish soup, Laksa Penang. The use of it together with mint is typical for Vietnamese-style rice or noodles in fast food stalls here, though how truly that represents Vietnamese food I don’t really know. It’s a fairly expensive ingredient, as much as a ringgit a stalk, making it a worthwhile plant to grow for the kitchen.

Bunga Kantan can also be seen in the ornamental landscape, as it is here, growing in a corner of PutraJaya, Malaysia’s new show-piece capitol city. There are varieties with different flower colors, like white, and pastel pink. The plant has an incurably wild look to it, but fits nicely in tropical-style landscapes.

[Update: A thousand apologies! I thought I had photographed a bunga kantan in PutraJaya last year but on visiting my photo archives at work found only an ornamental banana, which I’ve duly added to the banana post. Did I really see a bunga kantan there too on that trip or is my memory playing tricks on me? – ed.]

Kecek-kecek

Take a moment and visit a wonderful site on the language, culture and history of Trengganu: Kecek-kecek. Kecek-kecek is the home of one Awang Goneng, who introduces himself thusly:

Awang Goneng was born at a very young age, has drifted beyond the shores of Trengganu, and is feeling a crick in the neck from constantly looking back. He claims to have captured the essence of Trengganu, which, he says, was given to him by a very old man living in a cave near the Lake Kenyir. His detractors say it’s just a bottle of budu.

Elegantly written, learned and drenched in nostalgia, kecek-kecek delights with every post. In this most recent post, Growing up in Trengganu #293, 116, he describes the rainy season:

The monsoons imbued us with deep pilu wrapped in bright sarongs that village men slipped into, top end hooded over their heads as their hands grabbed the hem sides below to trap some warmth around their body. Pilu and melancholia were close cousins, but it came in chilly winds sodden by the spray of the roaring sea. In atap houses the rain poured in torrents down the pointed nipah tips, cascading down in a curtain of glistening threads of rainwater. A sudden downpour clattering on corrugated roofs, and clattering as it did continuously, mesmerised already dozy heads into an afternoon of deep slumber.

It must mean I haven’t been here long enough, because it seems almost universal amongst Malaysians to associate the monsoon with melancholy, as Awang describes so beautifully. For my part, I love the rains. There’s nothing I like better than finding myself out on the porch reading a book, sipping coffee, as the rain pours down hard and heavy.

I haven’t had the chance yet to explore the East Coast. Until I do, I’ll just keep reading kecek-kecek.

G(r)owing Bananas

I couldn’t wait for the rock wall and grading project to be done to start planting up the yard. I decided to grow some bananas along the jungle edge. Six months later, I’ve already harvested my first banana crop, and I’ve got banana trees towering 15 feet tall, swaying in the breeze.

The varieties of bananas here are amazing: there are about a dozen different types available in the market, and they’re all quite different. We’ve got Pisang Emas (Golden Bananas), Pisang Embon (Dew Bananas), Pisang Berangan (Dream Bananas), Pisang Awak (Your Bananas?), Pisang Tanduk (Horn Bananas), Pisang Keling (Indian Bananas, though careful, keling is a derogatory word for indians), Pisang Serendah (Shorty Bananas), and my personal favorite name, Pisang Pisang (Banana Bananas)! The only banana you can’t find is the chiquita banana they sell back home, the Cavendish variety. In the yard, the giant Pisang Tanduk is ripening. It’s a cooking banana, like a plantain, but sweet when fried. My previous harvest was a pisang serendah. It only grew about four feet tall, not counting the terminal leaf. We couldn’t eat it all fresh, so we gave some to the neighbors, and the rest became banana fritters (cucur) and banana bread. SR makes a mean banana bread.

Bananas are a funny plant. They’re not really trees. The trunk is a green bundle of juicy leaf stalks, with each new leaf emerging all the way from deep inside the plant, kind of like blades of grass. Each plant only produces one clump of bananas before dying. Often the trunk will topple over from the weight. As it is dying, new shoots sucker up from the base. The fruiting body first emerges as this deep purple heart-shaped thing that can be eaten as a vegetable by the way, though noone’s served it to me yet. They sell ’em in the market. The heart slowly opens up and elongates, revealing itty-bitty little bananas.

Beyond the fruit and the heart, the other useful product of the banana is the leaf. The leaves are huge, from 2 to 7 feet long. The leaves are used as wrappers for cooking and sweets. The leaf isn’t just a wrap though: it’s an ingredient. Lots of kuih-muih get a certain flavor from the leaf that is essential to the dish. SR claims the old people in her kampung even discern among different varieties of banana for the flavor the leaf imparts on the dish. There’s an Indian restaurant in town that has weekly banana leaf specials, where for an extra price, you can eat your lunch right off a banana leaf. It’s very popular. A personal favorite banana-wrapped treat is pulut udang, glutinous rice stuffed with spicy dried shrimp and toasted in a banana leaf. One of those units warming up in the picture will do you right for breakfast. Or minum pagi. Or minum petang. Did I mention I’ve put on five pounds since moving here?

[Update] Bananas can be used in the ornamental landscape as well. There are number of ornamental varieties that have been developed, including Pisang Derhaka, the bananas of treachery, or maybe, the bananas of rebellion, or maybe even, Uppity Bananas. The poor banana’s crime to deserve a name like that: the heart that points up to the sky instead of bending toward the ground like a good banana.

Returning home vicariously

I’ve really been enjoying Google Earth, Google’s (not-so-anymore) new aerial imagery viewer. Like everybody else I’m sure, the first thing I did was find all the places I’ve lived. I’ve put a couple images here partly for my own nostalgia and partly to show off Google Earth. It really is amazing, better than having a globe on your desk.

The first set of pictures is from our neighborhood in New Delhi, India, where I lived for four years when I was very young. It was hard to find. I had to send several pictures back to my father and mother to comment on before I narrowed it down to what you see here.

The houses along our block were mostly three story flats, with common side walls, sort of like townhouses. That street was amazing. I remember people bringing camels and elephants that kids could ride for a fee, and trained dancing bears and snake charmers performing. The “elbow” in the street was wide enough for kids to play ball games like cricket. The roofs were cool too. We had the top flat with a huge open veranda, from where I could get onto the roof. Since it doesn’t rain much there, the roofs are all flat, and since the houses adjoin one another, it makes it easy to explore. My memory is spotty since we left India when I was not yet seven, but just finding these aerial photos was thrilling nonetheless. Definitely the next best thing to being there.


The second set of pictures is from our block in Detroit where I lived for about ten years. Finding the block on Google Earth was not as startling since I visited there not long before I left for Malaysia and took a number of photos. The aerial view is still neat though. I especially like how the freeway looks so clean and orderly from the sky. How deceptive.

Sarawak Newspaper Suspended over Cartoons

One of our two local daily papers, The Sarawak Tribune, reprinted the caricatures of Prophet Muhammad last Saturday. Within the last few days the editor on duty resigned, the Internal Security Department called in the heads of the paper to “show cause”, and yesterday it was announced that the license of the newspaper is suspended with immediate effect. The Sarawak Tribune is closed down.

Riots in Kuching? No, sorry to disappoint. Everyone I’ve talked to is short on rage; the most common reaction is a shaking of the head. What on earth could the editor have been thinking? Religious satire (if we can politely describe those cartoons as such) is so far beyond the limits of acceptable public speech here that it really is puzzling. There are three or four possibilities that I can see.

It could have been a complete oversight. The paper borrows heavily from news networks like Rueters and the Associated Press for its stories. A lot of copy-and-paste goes on – maybe the cartoons were included by accident.

Was it religious hostility, a desire to offend? That would be a pretty hasty conclusion. Religion is a delicate issue in Malaysia, far more than it is in the US. The US is funny that way. People in the States are far more touchy about race than religion. I think it has to do with the religious plurality of Malaysia. The US and Malaysia may both have a similar mix of ethnic minorities, but the largest ethnic minorities in the US, Blacks and Hispanics, are Christian. In Malaysia, ethnic minorities are also religious minorities (with the exception of Indian muslims and a smattering of converts). Maybe that’s not the whole picture, but I think it is part of the reason why religion is as taboo as race between communities. Religious issues are even more touchy here in Sarawak since it is the only Christian majority state in the country. Some may use the existence of tension and the fact that the editors involved were non-muslim to argue weakly for or be suspicious of religious prejudice behind the incident, but it doesn’t wash, because the cartoons were printed extremely small, too small for anybody to read and make sense out of what they were saying (assuming they made sense – I still haven’t read them).

The European papers that reprinted the cartoons have done so out of journalistic solidarity, to demonstrate their rights or what have you. Was the Sarawak Tribune challenging the government, testing the boundaries of free speech? It doesn’t seem likely. As I’ve mentioned before, the media in Malaysia is extremely docile. More so here in Sarawak, where leading government officials get glamour shots on the front page every other day, and reporting of any significant event is reduced to paraphrase of the relevant politician’s press release. If the Sarawak Tribune did want to push the limits of editorial freedom, why not publish on corruption, cronyism, bribery, abuse of power? Those things should be matters of immediate concern to every Sarawakian and reporting on them a far more vital service by the paper to its readership. Muslims and non-muslims alike may have supported bravery in journalism of that kind. As it is, this incident simply allows the government to flex its censorial muscles and enjoy popular support while doing so. So if this was an attempt to make a statement about or to push the bounds of free speech, as some commenters over at Screenshots seem to be arguing, it was a singularly misplaced one.

But I don’t think it was. The second article I linked mentioned that the Trib had actually been reprimanded three times already last year for publishing sensational images of sex and gore. I’ve often thought that the bloody car wreck photos and the like were a bit excessive, but I didn’t notice that it was the Sarawak Tribune exclusively publishing them. If the Trib has indeed been going further with salacious images to boost readership, then maybe publication of the cartoons was just a poorly considered attempt to do the same thing. That would also make the government’s reaction even more understandable. It wasn’t a one time event, it was a fourth offense.

Either way, things are chill here. Embassies are intact, streets are calm. The only unfortunate thing is that the citizens of Sarawak will have no choice but to siang their ikan on the Borneo Post from now on.

[More on Malaysian journalism from Jeff Ooi here]
[More on the suspension of the Sarawak Tribune]