August 20, 2011
Sometimes I wish I was Muslim…all the cool kids are doing it.
It’s one thing to go through the superficial motions in order to respect the religion of everyone around me: to fast during Ramadhan; to greet the class with as-salamu-alaikum (may God be with you); to deferentially sit in the background while the entire student body or my host family make their ablutions and pray. But sometimes I wish I knew what it felt like to earnestly go through the prayer motions, to be fully veiled on a daily basis, and to somehow sense that I was closer to a higher power and a part of something bigger.
It’s like a kind of subliminal peer pressure. No one comes out and directly says I should become Muslim. Well, usually not. But being surrounded by devout devotees 24 hours a day does start to affect the way one thinks about the matter. The constant comments about how beautiful one would be if she wore a jilbab or the undisclosed desire to not feel like an outsider during religious events begin to seep into the part of one’s brain that just wants to fit in and belong. It would feel really good to legitimately be a part of something so significant in my community.
That being said, I have zero intention of ‘converting’ any time in the foreseeable future…and I can see pretty far. If I survived high school, I’m sure I can make it through the next 9 months without making any eccentric life changing alterations to my lifestyle, i.e. abruptly becoming pious or being fully covered in 90 degree weather.
School Prayer Before Breaking Fast Together
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August 25, 2011
I assumed this Ramadan would be just as distressing as last year’s. I forgot to take one minor detail into account: a lot has changed over the last 12 months. This time last year I felt trapped in my homestay situation, a prisoner to my host father’s expectations and commands. Slightly dramatic sounding, but that’s the way it was. I was rarely allowed to leave the house without someone accompanying me (they even tried to set up a system where a different student would pick me up and walk me home from school every day…a 3 minute walk from my front door to the gate of my school). During Idul Fitri (the festive end of the fasting month of Ramadan) my overbearing tyrant of a host father paraded me around in such an uncomfortable manner that I had to hold back tears and fits of rage until I was in the privacy of my own room and eventually in the company of my empathetic Peace Corps friends. I knew no one outside of my immediate host family and a select few teachers who lived in the neighboring city. Those emotional hardships, coupled with fasting (including no water) for 14 hours a day, every day, transformed me into quite the acrimonious individual. Needless to say, I was not looking forward to reliving last year’s flagrantly dreadful events.
In no way did I want to put myself through that chagrin again. As a result, I zealously jumped at the chance to hop over to another island for a week during the Idul Fitri holiday. I thoroughly contemplated whether it was a good idea to travel during that time. On one hand, it’s 1) an important Islamic holiday which one should spend with neighbors and family 2) more expensive to travel during those few days 3) I’m currently studying for the GRE, scheduled for the end of September. On the other hand, there’s 1) no physical way I can put myself through the same torment and suffering as last year 2) I won’t have the opportunity to travel again for awhile because of my teaching schedule, and 3) I guarantee that I’ll be able to study better without my current home distractions, like my host father’s plangent voice reverberating through the house or the constant stream of unannounced guests flowing through our doors- not the most ideal setup for studying. I wish I could just grab a tall Starbucks caramel frappuccino and head to the library for a few solid hours of uninterrupted studying. Instead, I’ll gladly settle for a 1 ½ liter bottle of water, my SPF 55 sunscreen, and head down to a pristine beach, the sound of waves crashing in the foreground.
The one thing I didn’t anticipate when scheduling this ideal getaway was that now I actually do have people I want to visit on Idul Fitri. Neighbors who are no longer strangers, but friends. Students who I’ve not only taught over the last year, but who have grown to be a part of my Indonesian family. In stark contrast to last year, I do want to take part in the customary Muslim-Javanese practices surrounding the end of Ramadan; I do want to minta maaf (ask for forgiveness) and silhaturahmi (build/strengthen relationships) during the holiday break.
Ultimately though, I think I made the right decision to absent myself for a few days. It’s inevitable that I would have been pressured into traveling all through Mojokerto with my host father, made to feel guilty, and thus miserable, because I have to take the slow, crowded public transportation rather than jumping on a speedy motorcycle to all of the unfamiliar destinations. I will see my kids after the holiday, and I was lucky enough to break fast with several of them prior to the break. Sulawesi, here I come!
My Neighbor Friends- I Love These Kids!
Some of My New English Club Family
Breaking Fast with Rosyid and Tyka 