PHUKET BEYOND BIKINI LINES ET AL

YOU AND I WELL KNOW how Thai tourism is portrayed, right? Synonymous with the sex trade. Yes! Travel columns are especially guilty of this crime. Writers almost never forget to draw the reader's attention to the red light districts of Thailand, like Bangkok's Phatpong. And these write-ups always come with gaudy and raunchy illustrations. Is it any wonder that the thought is deeply implanted in popular myth?

And myth I now know it is because a friend gave me such a surprise when she came back from a family vacation in Phuket, South Thailand, flushed with inquiries of a spiritual nature. Not something triggered off by tight butts and long legs in skimpy bikinis, I'm sure. Or even tanned Greek gods in hip hugging trunks. Anyway, this is a girlfriend and the average woman can well keep her mind off such base distractions.

My friend was this hotshot corporate lady who reacted violently to the loud ticking of her biological clock, unlike fortunate me. I did not even have time to hear the body clock ticking. My body got happily going without prompting. By the time I was 23 my family was complete, replete with challenges and all, fighting for the right to develop healthy under circumstances struggling to stay ordinary.

But I digress. Back to my friend. She responded to the urgings of bodily timings and became a full-time, stay-at-home mum and must now rank as a top hotshot housewife, what with prize-winning, handsome, robust sons.

Well, let's cut to the chase. She called me and asked about Koranic exegeses; where to get the kind that reflected her current mood brought on by her recent experience. In Phuket!? If she had said, "I think I'll become a mama san when the children grow up," I would not have batted an eyelid. If it had been me that is exactly what I'd be saying after Phuket. (At least that is what, I think, I'd be repeating for all ears to hear. But do bear in mind, I have never been to Phuket.)

And so she related the story behind, what to me was her encounter of the mystical kind at the most unlikely place. The upshot of it was that she had chatted with a doctor friend she and her family were holidaying with. He had, according to her, found the scientific evidence for taboos and practices enjoined by the Old Testament on the Abrahamic religions. Things like "lay off the pork" (which, for the information of the insular ones among us, is actually common to all three monotheistic faiths) and the Jewish practice of circumcising boy babies on the eighth day after birth. "NO, she did not mention homosexuality and STDs!" to those of you readers whose mind maybe racing ahead of me.

Granted she had a wonderfully relaxing time at the Marriott with enough moments of quiet periods allowing for high brow intellectual intercourse between a-cut-above consenting adults with highly inquisitive minds. The sun, sand and beautifully tanning bodies were no match and neither was the shopping. The hotshot corporate lady had mentally returned and was truly turned on and has stayed that way since. Like a bloodhound she is following the trail laid down by a curiosity well piqued.

The interesting thing here is not that she may have re-discovered religion, or God for that matter. Rather, her experience tells of how positive all things are. The story would, of course, be more dramatic if she had stumbled on all of this while at a strip tease joint or something similarly salacious. That would be an epiphany and a half.

All the same, even in this instance of luxuriating redolence, the mind is actually miraculous. Just try taxing yours sometimes and you too will see beyond the forest to the tree; past handsome hunks to a matchless soul; and, behind seeming absurdities to its hidden truth.

A TRIBUTE TO FRIENDSHIP

FRIENDS ARE TRULY GOD'S GIFT and I have a few tremendous ones. Where would I be without them?

Not where I am today doing the wonderful things I do. Of course, some may not think that there's anything great about how my life is lived but I often wonder might I not be worse off if it were not for my friends and the things they have done for me. Okay, maybe not worse off, but I probably will not be the same. All I am certain of is that I would be a much impoverished person, spiritually, if it weren't for friends.

A friend it was who encouraged me to act on my social conscience. That took me along a path I know I will not regret for while trying to make sense of the world I found myself, doubtless a small, insignificant speck in the mass that is humanity but not as meaningless as it could have been if it had not been for a friend.

If not for a friend I probably would not have notched up any depth to my CV let alone my being. My life is so rich in texture because a friend took me under her wings and gave me the opportunities that were hers to give and never once flinching from a fear that I might not deliver. If she did she never showed it. She never gave up on me and who then could be so blind as not to feel a deep sense of obligation. For, friends do not need to feel for one another as siblings are expected to.

Yet mine do, I think. How else can I explain the warmth of friendship at this most bitterly cold winter of my existence. Friends it is I have turned to for advice, comfort and help. They are the ones who provide sustenance, both spiritual and material, in this my hour of need.

So, to those of you who have yet to make friends, do not leave it to late. Of course, you lucky ones out there with family enough to not need friends, you are blessed. I cannot say I envy you though because I feel even better blessed for I have found 'family' among those who, if it were not for friendship, would have been mere strangers.

POLYGAMY AWARD

LAST WEEK there was a bit of a brouhaha over a suggestion that men should be awarded for being polygamous. How about that?! The gall of him who had the cheek to suggest it.

Strange the way Malaysian men of the Malay-Muslim species try to make their lustful nature admirable. According to this suggestion a man who is willing to take a single mother as a second, third or fourth wife should be given an award, presumably meaning that there is a measure of sacrifice on the man's part. All well and good but....

Firstly, in this day and age it should be the function of the state to provide for the welfare of single mothers and their children. These women and their children cannot be left to the whims and fancies of men. Yes, the Holy Qur'an makes mention of widows and orphans in the context of polygamy but it is uncompromising in its demand for fair and equitable treatment. If a man cannot be fair then polygamy is forbidden to him. Fairness here is not mere material. Here the Muslim man is expected to be fair in all respects: material, emotional, sexual, spiritual and whatever else that might surface in a marriage.

The question here is whether it is humanly possible for a man, or anyone for that matter, to be absolutely fair? For this is what the Book commands. Otherwise, marry only one. God here is so explicit and yet men can persist in misinterpreting His commandments. Why is this?

Malaysian Muslim males are quite unembarrassed about their rampant lust. Of course, there are the exceptional ones who are content with monogamy, but even the Islamic establishment, which is undeniably male-dominated, cites the unbridled male lust as reason for polygamy. Shame on them for assuming that all men are like them and, too, that God should want to pander to such animal behaviour. In fact, this is an insult to the animals. Take the beautiful swans, for example, they are monogamous. If the argument for lust is made then why on earth did the revelation not encourage the poor man to marry and instead enjoin them to chastity until such time as they can afford to keep a wife and family.

Paramount to the spirit of the Qur'an, therefore, is welfare; in this instance the welfare of widows and orphans in the aftermath of war. And, much as God would want them to be taken care of, He is willing only if the arrangement is in no way detrimental to the well-being of these the already unfortunate. If to be widowed and orphaned is already a god forsaken fate would it not be a double whammy to allow for their further suffering under the care of a man whose concerns are first and foremost driven by lust? Please, all, never for a moment forget that Allah is unequivocally merciful, magnanimous and infinitely kind. Just look at the Qur'an, all but one surah starts with "In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful."

Secondly, how many men will marry widows and divorcees who are not pretty and attractive? If there are polygamous men who do honestly take a widow or a divorcee for reasons of welfare alone, this person ought indeed to be rewarded. Honestly, can we name any man we know who will take a tired-looking hag with eight little children as another wife? Ample empirical evidence exist to suggest that polygamy equals lust equals good-looking women, especially when they have been married before and poor.

That in the same week just across the Straits of Melaka the Indonesian president is trying to fly his idea of banning polygamy altogether, is indeed ironic and utterly shameful for Malaysians. For, the man who suggested the "polygamy award" for Terengganu is also a public figure, much lesser no doubt, but one nonetheless.

Note: Got to http://islaminmodernity.blogspot.com for the related news reports.

INDONESIA: BEYOND THE INDICATORS

BREAKS MY HEART when I hear stories of children wanting to go on schooling but can't because the parents are just not able to meet the cost. This should not happen in a world of plenty when talk is about the so-called "throwaway society", the buying of consumer fashion items good only while fashionable. Like herbaceous plants viable only specific to its own season, but unlike them the pleasure given is fleeting at best.

Unfortunate for today's world, education is a perennial, it goes on year after year. Education was and, hopefully still is, a social staple intended to enlighten, to bring on greater social justice through social mobility. So why has many decades of so-called 'universal' education brought humankind, instead, to this brink, of priorities gone berserk? Is there any place left in this world where basic needs are still nominally priced, if not completely free?

Let me go back to the beginning. Someone close had called me, only just now, to have a chat and share his troubles. Just as a matter of interest, trouble is here defined by its territorial and social origin. It depends on where my friends are from. The handful of Londoners will have cheery news or when its bad its those very personal problems you share with the bestest of friends. In Malaysia we tend to exchange tales on politics, economics and state of the nation issues liberally laced with gossip and hearsay to give it better texture. My Thai friend e-mails me about going off to holiday with family living in the provinces where the air is fresh and invigorating. I haven't heard from the sole friend I have in the Philippines but I guess he is happy with what is occupying him at the moment. From Indonesia, however, the pains tend to be personal but very much to do with public policies.

Of course, social class too determine the way life is lived everywhere, including Indonesia. And speaking of education, the upper and middle classes there make it a point to send their children abroad. Even another ASEAN country will do because, I have been told, entry to the very best Indonesian universities are far too competitive. Furthermore, learning in English will give their children a head start in life.

That is, if you can afford the start, in the first place. And recently, quite unexpectedly with Reformasi, education in Indonesia has entered the era of free enterprise, meaning, schools now have economic fees. Schools mind you, not institutions of higher learning! The laws of demand and supply play a big role in determining the quantum of school fees in today's Indonesia. As a result many, mainly from the lower middle classes and below, falter, threatening to obliterate the future of a potentially huge pool of humanity. There is, of course, a reason for this: inadequate public funds. And by some tragic coincidence, Indonesia under its first directly elected president, SBY, has been beset with natural disasters the most horrific being the tsunami that devastated Aceh and North Sumatra on Boxing Day 2004, a few months after he took office. For the President it must have seemed like a baptism of fire not to be easily doused, incoming oceans notwithstanding.

Nonetheless, for all its domestic problems, Indonesia is a beautiful country with a beautiful people, gentle and warm, not yet properly arrived in the rapacious rat-race of capitalist exploitation. Of course, one hears horrendous stories of corruption and it is almost at the top of the world's list of nations blighted with corruption, but remember far too many Indonesians are either unemployed, barely employed or underemployed. Now what access do these people have to be corrupter and to become corrupt. That they have not all turned to crime is an indicator of a resilience to be reckoned with. Added to this are the multitudes employed in insipid jobs, corruption-wise that is. These are the majority. So please do not tarnish every Indonesian with the same brush for, in doing that we abandon the opportunity to find friendship and pleasure in this, one of the world's most soulful country: its culture rich, its art profound, its learning deep. Is it any wonder then that Indonesians are a proud people.

At the same time though they fall under the international category of poor countries because of low income per capita. Poverty and pride, therefore, rages in many forcing on them what are otherwise unpalatable choices. Their labour is exported into the most menial and harshest sectors of the economies of countries that can afford for their own population the choice of opting out from such terrible jobs. These jobs the migrant labour (euphemistically called TKI, tenaga kerja Indonesia) do at wages that are often below the norm -- but then again this is why they are referred to bluntly as "cheap labour" and are much sought after by foreign employers planning to lock in large margins of profit.

Many more, however, stay home to harness whatever means to life are at hand. It is amongst them that one discovers how low the cost of living can get to maintain very decent standards of life when one does not aspire to needless throwaway consumer items; and learn, how precious pride is to preserve, honour to keep and community to have.

BODY-SNATCHERS: EPILOGUE

GOOD SENSE has prevailed. Thank God. MAIS, the Selangor Islamic Council, has withdrawn claims over the remains of the late Rayappan Anthony and his burial will be held by his family according to Christian rites. In the end, they accepted the fact that Anthony was no longer a Muslim at the point of his death, after exhaustive investigations to prove otherwise.

What this means is that a Muslim may leave the religion, after all. Well, at least for the convert. The late Rayappan Anthony’s final contribution to his fellow citizens is thus an important one. No longer do Malaysian converts to Islam who changed their minds about being Muslim need feel that they have to flee this country to die just so they can rest in peace. For, this is exactly what I hear on the grapevine. Now all they have to do is make absolutely certain that the evidence of their renouncing Islam is beyond doubt.

As a Muslim I feel much saddened by the whole sorry episode.

Firstly, it embarrasses me that the procedures, vis-à-vis religious matters, which have huge legal implications, are left uncertain. On the one hand, the non-Muslims operate under a secular system. Their religion is a private affair, pursued in their own time and on their own terms with the religious establishment of their choice. On the other hand, Muslims like me live very much under a strong Islamic state apparatus, which would like to be even stronger than it already is.

Secondly, I am saddened by Islam’s failure to hold on to its converts. All Muslims know that the converts, mualaf, are special. Provisions for the way they are to be received by Muslims exist in the Qur’an. They are to be treated with great care: “Alms shall be used for the advancement of Allah’s cause…and those that are converted to the faith.” [9;60] And yet, cases such as Rayappan are not uncommon. It reflects badly on the Muslim community; a situation made worse because the state provides for the administration of the religion and the zakat, the wealth tax, should enable a perfectly good welfare system. Instead, we hear talk of those who are supposed to be looking after our soul wanting a slice of the commercial action.

Maybe what the government ought to do is impose on those entrusted with the administration of the religion a kind of internship, the way doctors do, before they are allowed to even come near a Muslim, dead or alive. Why is it Muslims think little of their soul when its impact upon society is so great? Is it any wonder then that converts do not stay and those born into the religion have to be forcibly restrained from leaving? A crying shame really!

RETURN OF THE "BODY-SNATCHERS"

NON-MUSLIMS should no longer play fast and loose with their faith, whatever it may be, if they know what’s good for them.
If they do not like what happened to the late Everest climber, Moorthy, and what is happening to the recently departed Rayappan Anthony then do not even consider becoming a Muslim: not for love, not for money and definitely not for fun!
For be warned, there is not a single escape clause in this unspoken, indeterminate contract. Even marriage vows, for instance, promises release upon death, but not this. It insists on binding you to it for all eternity. And after you are in it, you will feel most bonded to it when you least want it. Choice, by the way, you would have given up at the point of entry.
It is like choosing to live in a dictatorship. Why would you, whose every act, every move and every decision can be a conscious choice reaffirming your human agency, choose to give up choice only to live within strict taboos, a rigid regimentation and perpetual supervision? Okay, it is highly probable that you may feel suitably cleansed by the taboos, but can you stomach the regimentation? Possibly too, if you are the sort invigorated when regimented, but can you take the feeling of being constantly interfered with? Maybe yes, because you find comfort in being part of the majority.
This is what it means to be Muslim in Malaysia and surely this requires the kind of commitment that only passion can lend. Are you then passionate about becoming a Muslim or are you driven to it by passion? This question you must contemplate over and over and when you are done contemplating meditate on it, over and over. And if after all of that you remain determined then, by all means, go for it.
But why has it come to this? The Moorthy case hints at the problem.
His conversion to Islam is almost hearsay. It was purported to have happened on his sickbed with no hard evidence that it ever took place. If he had really converted, Moorthy, according to his widow, never talked to the family about it and given the importance of such a decision to people of faith, this is incredible. One would have thought if he had embraced Islam with all its consequences it would be unlikely for him not to let his family know, if for nothing other than to ensure that when he does go his soul would be suitably attended to. Why convert to Islam when you do not particularly care what happens to you in the after-life, especially given the stark contrast of this, most final rites of passage between those of Islam and Hinduism?
In this instance would it not have been wiser if the officers of the Religious Department involved had based their actions on documented evidence? Was his conversion card ever produced? In short, did he or did he not embrace Islam?
The current controversy regarding burial rites revolves around one Rayappan Anthony (alias Mohammad Rayappan). Here there is indeed evidence, both documented and otherwise. His conversion is not disputed. He took the faith and consequently a Muslim name when he left his Christian family and identity to marry a Mulim woman. However, there is every proof of him having renounced Islam and returning to Christianity. According to newspaper reports, his MyKad states that he was a Christian. And yet JAIS had little compunction about distressing his bereaved family. After the “body-snatching” they tried to subpoena Christians to appear before what is an exclusively Muslim court.
There are two issues here. First, the assumption is that to JAIS, once a Muslim always a Muslim. As soon as one embraces Islam one forfeits one’s constitutional right to freedom of religion. (By the way, for those born into the religion this is the given condition as the Lina Joy and the four elderly Kelantanese cases, to name but two, demonstrate.)
And second, it is obvious that the Islamic establishment, in over-stepping the boundaries of its jurisdiction – the issuing of subpoenas to Anthony’s three daughters who are Christians – is intent on creating a dangerous legal precedent. Let us, for argument’s sake, accept that it may have some claim over Rayappan Anthony, but does that give it any semblance of a right to even attempt to invoke its powers over the non-Muslim daughters? Now that the sisters are going to the civil court for redress what will the judgment be? In the Moorthy case the judge felt quite unable to sit in judgment of an Islamic issue as everything to do with Islam is the purview of the parallel Shariah Court system.

As this matter is now before the courts it would be skating on thin ice to speculate, but let us hope that the 'integrity' of our legal system, dualistic as it is, is preserved. We may not be able to turn the clock back to before 1988, but at least we would have put arrogance firmly in its place: checked, if not checkmated.

WAKE UP AND SMELL THE COFFEE LAH

SIASAH, in its current edition, asks the provocative question, “Is Ku Li willing to challenge Pak Lah?” The paper is, of course, referring to Malaysia’s former finance minister Tengku Razaleigh Hamzah, who once took on Dr. Mahathir Mohammad. That was way back in 1987, some twenty or so years ago.

Strange that a generation later the possible challenger has not changed, but the prime minister has, albeit after 22 long years. Is this a reflection on UMNO’s inability to cultivate a new crop of leaders?

That the question of a challenge against the president of the party is being bandied about comes as no surprise given the recent open hostility towards Abdullah Ahmad Badawi’s premiership by Dr. Mahathir, the man single-handedly responsible for putting him there in the first place. Given the intensity of each passing shot by the latter one is forgiven for believing that the prime minister’s days in office are numbered because if it had instead been a live round of bullets the country would have had a state funeral. The accusations leveled were so unapologetically vicious.

But survived it he did. If Dr. Mahathir had intended to unseat Abdullah he must be sorely disappointed. Didn’t anyone bother to tell him that it is near impossible to topple an incumbent? He, more than anyone, should know this. Two former prime ministers did their utmost to get him out of office and both failed miserably. These scenarios are text book perfect.

Malaysia inherited the British system of government where the prime minister is primus inter pares, first amongst equals. He holds all levers, not only to power, but also the fate of party aspirants in his hands. And, in today’s flourishing crony capitalism, the long arm of the prime minister reaches beyond government and politics. In this country, at least, he is all powerful – if he chooses to be. It is obvious that Abdullah Badawi has chosen to be!

So why even entertain the notion that there might be a change at the top, so soon?

It is the nature of politics. If for the ordinary mortal the pursuit of happiness is vague, the same cannot be said for the politician. As he lives and breathes his one pleasure is the pursuit of power. Now that Abdullah Badawi has power he does not see any reason for relinquishing it. Natural that. Unfortunately, this is not a one-horse race. Every politician worth his salt relishes the thought that he might be next in line and since Dr. Mahathir has stirred the hornet’s nest there will be those willing to exploit the breach.

The point is why Ku Li, why him as a possible candidate to slip through that crack? Why not others? Okay, Anwar Ibrahim is probably not the right man. Fresh from prison, his credentials as former finance minister will cut no ice in the face of aggressive competition from others, like another former finance minister, Daim Zainudin. Why not Daim if what we want is experience at the economic helm. After all, his departure from office is more recent.

Maybe it is because he too was handpicked by Dr. Mahathir plucked out of the blue and deposited into office. A one-portfolio minister, formerly a businessman, Daim is not charismatic. To make matters worse he was far too aloof for a politician. His achievements notwithstanding, the UMNO grassroots is more impressed by accessibility then performance.

For to them, a job well done is no big deal. Was not Dr. Mahathir never a finance minister? And yet he was able to put the economy into overdrive in just a few short years. Furthermore, ministers move from one portfolio to another so that, should they ever become number 1, they would have had a feel of what it takes to find the balance necessary for good governance of the country.

Then again, if this is the case, why not ask a sitting cabinet minister with many years of service, one who is Dr. Mahathir’s legacy. Unfortunately, serving under the former prime minister does little for a minister’s image. None could outperform Dr. Mahathir. Nobody could outthink him. And, no one could out boss the boss. Whether intentionally or otherwise, Dr. Mahathir’s cabinet ministers were never made to appear as convincing prime minister material.

Is it any wonder then that we appear to be caught in a time warp?

Not that Tengku Razaleigh is not a legitimate contender. His credentials are neither tarnished by insinuations of corruption nor blemished by the rabid racism of UMNO’s recent General Assembly. He was the first Malay finance minister and a successful one at that, having laid the foundation for the Bumiputra economy. Remember, too, he came close to defeating Dr. Mahathir that time. But, like he says, he is an old man. Then again Dr. Mahathir was 78 before he threw in the towel.

However and most pertinent to the issue is that all this talk of challenge will probably be stillborn. For, UMNO has never properly understood that in a democracy, democratic practices should be all pervasive, especially in the party that spearheads the ruling coalition.

DOING AWAY WITH PRETENCE

TWO OF MALAYSIA’S longstanding mainstream newspapers most closely affiliated to the ruling party UMNO are about to be merged. The New Straits Times and Utusan stables will become one if things go according to the plan of those who are willing it to happen. (For details go to http://archives.thestar.com.my/last7days/)

Will it make a difference to the ordinary person on the street? NO. Why should it. Its same-o, same-o right? Except now there is no need to pretend that there might be a difference. Its one big, happy family feeding us the tripe that has become this country’s staple. Here the media has taken the bottom line to heart. Take in the advertising dollars at whatever cost. And, given that the editorial line is all about self-censorship and sucking-up what else is there left to give to the readers other than banality and mediocrity ubiquitously referred to as “human interest”.

Let’s be clear here. The advertising dollars would flow in fast and furious too if we did have a free press. Malaysians have been known to read, and vociferously, in the days when their intelligence was not being sorely insulted; when news was really newsworthy and the newspapers were indeed the Fourth Estate. Then the pen was free and mighty and hence able to act as a check and balance mechanism to the possible excesses of government.

Not that this power is no longer there. Rather it has been hijacked to spin the spin in favour of the vested interests that have ignored past ethical practices such as the popular political maxim that business and politics do not mix in liberal democratic systems. Period. No ifs or buts and that the line separating them should be glaringly clear. Just look at all the standard texts on politics and government and tell me that I am wrong. It is these kinds of blurring of the lines that have made media freedom and objectivity a lost cause. For, when politics and business mix public opinion (i.e. you and I), which the media shapes and modulates, cannot be allowed the pleasure of rocking the capitalist boat of wealth creation.

Things have changed dramatically since those days of innocence. (To my detractors I'm sure it is derided as days of naivete.) Once upon a time it is possible to pick up a newspaper or listen to a radio report and know that what is being written and said is as near to objective truth as is humanly possible. Once upon a long time ago ethics was taught to children at school. Remember the Civics classes? Yes, much of the moral high ground is but sweet memories of a bygone age. Nowadays even the ambitions of the young have changed. In the old days, as the expression goes, children wanted to be doctors and lawyers. Today far too many of our young contemplate a future in business and politics regardless of what their academic disciplines are. Now that success is measured in monetary terms, can you blame the kids for not knowing better?

To add insult to injury, in today'sMalaysia there are no sacred cows. Only one thing matters: money and more money the means to ostentation. And, if standards have to be sacrificed, traditions forfeited, so be it. Profit margins must be kept fat at whatever cost. Success is no longer measured by such noble intangibles as service to the community and the nation, but rather a wonderfully black balance sheet that keeps the fat cats fat.

Or, have we as a nation bred a population that has little need for true human agency and thus have no real interest in newspapers that carry issues that will substantially impact our lives? Instead, in this age of instant gratification, is it enough for Malaysians to be fed accurate information on where to shop for wants and needs and to be told where the good value for money is? In short, is it true that all today's readers want is to know where the "value buys" are? Sadly, going by the look of the country's most successful English newspaper this is probably very near the truth.

And so, who will be badly affected by this proposed merger of the country's flagship newspapers? Not you and me mate, our fate vis-a-vis the media was sealed when the boundaries between politics and business were withdrawn. It is the fat cats in there. Who will survive the merger? Remember, its lonely at the top and who will that loner be? That will probably depend on who the "senior partner" is in this takeover bid. Not that it matters really. Going by precedent, golden handshakes in either stable is nothing to be sneezed at.

BALI, GOD'S OWN ISLAND

ISLAND OF THE GODS? Maybe so to those whose spirituality is encumbered by symbols. Yes, there are temples – pura, as the local lingo has it – galore. You cannot miss them they are everywhere. There are the private ones and there are communal ones. The family ones are for the nuclear and extended families. Those for the community, meanwhile, can be either local or desa and some are for everyone. The profusion is undeniable, but it’s not a case of familiarity breeding contempt. Most definitely NOT. They, it is, that make the magic; weave the splendour; and, mesmerize the beholder.

The pura is an edifice of immense beauty: of souls realized; spirits celebrated; and, godliness enshrined. In its pagoda-like, towering meru more than the descent of the gods is captured. Herein lies the veneration of man’s supplication to nature and all that is peaceful, tranquil and pristine. As its many tiered roof reaches out to the heavens the meru in its graceful exquisiteness captures best His grace. Simple and beautiful, its silhouette against the twilight sky mirrors a solitary enchantment at once serene and aloof while yet tender and embracing. In the brightness of day, its slender build notwithstanding, the meru stands regal and majestic. It, more than any edifice that is the pura, symbolizes the best in the interaction of man and his surroundings: renewable natural resources used to the greatest effect – the worship of the Divine. Divinely inspired, it is divinity incarnated. That the meru stands in the inner sanctum of the pura is then no accident.

This majesty, regal and never imperious is the embodiment of Divine nature. The loving and merciful Ida Sanghyang Widhi Wasa, the supreme godhead of ‘monotheistic’ Balinese Hinduism worshipped in the most beautiful way imaginable in human terms; in aesthetics of the most refined order. The Hindu temples of Bali do not dazzle; they are enchantingly hypnotic. They do not overwhelm; they comfortingly simple.

In Bali, aesthetics reaches out beyond the bricks and mortar, the wood and alang-alang of its brilliant architecture. No flawless thatched roof, no enchanting carving or perfect sculpture, no ethereal floating pavilions in exquisite landscapes can match the beauty of the Balinese person. Through their eyes and their smiles they bare their souls in a hospitality that is unmatched. Here in paradise there is neither master nor servant. There is here only God and man. Humanity is surrendered. Free will and predestination find an ingenious conciliation in the Balinese spirit. Strength and fortitude sits gentle on the Balinese breast, brow never furrowed with meaningless worry. Hukum karma cradles the Hindu Balinese and drives them always to move on and not dwell on past mishaps. For, in the perpetual motion of change lies existence, which is karma. After all, in the Hindu cosmic energy of birth, death and re-birth, there is an immanent renewal which is not just the preserve of the Hindu. In every individual, Hindu and others, one finds an immanence that promises final liberation from the endless cycle of rebirth and the ultimate attainment of being at one with God. Not being God, mind you, but being at peace with Him.

And so, it is no extraordinary feat and neither is it a defeatist fatalism that, logically, brings on the aside, “If not this life then the next”. It is this that informs the Balinese worldview; the peace with which its constituent member accepts any and all objective circumstance and gets on with it.

Now, in their getting on with it, the Balinese are ruled by the Hindu edict that holds every life dear. Not in a romantic fashion that has given birth to the contemporaneous vegan, the puritan vegetarian. In believing in their idea of the cycle of life there is no harm in making the Earth’s bounty a means to life and neither is there a notion of universal forgiveness that will make retribution impossible. To the Balinese the perpetrators of the 12 October 2002 bombing in Kuta deserve punishment. Not because they are extremists or Muslims but because they are criminals. And, as is the case with every crime the community of the criminals’ origin cannot be held accountable. Therefore, neither the Javanese nor the Muslims, from whence the Bali bombers hail, are resented.

Hence, Bali is synonymous with beauty in all its manifestations. There is beauty in the air filled with aromatic offerings to God; offerings of scented flowers in neat, small, coconut palm frond baskets woven by the women everyday as an expression of their dedication and love of the Divine. Here cleanliness is indeed next to godliness. With very rare exceptions, one almost never comes across uncollected garbage. The streets are swept clean and yet there is no sight of the municipal cleaners. It is the people; they keep their environment near sanitised.

Exotic is a term of insult when applied to Bali! Bali is beatific. If humanity is what it is meant to be, Bali should be the home that every soul knows exists and seeks. It is where every human spirit finds a home. Bali is where a person is at peace, serene and tranquil, earthbound and yet free-floating and light. It is hard to feel weighed down in Bali. Here one feels that the ethereal, that which is difficult to pin down like the slippery, contradictory monotheist concepts of freewill and predestination, is grasped. Here, the one is no longer at odds with the other. In Balinese Hinduism the two have become a complementary whole and thus a totality is fashioned. This same appears to be repeated over and over: paradoxes, the essence of being, is reconciled; and, historical dialectics are no longer the socio-political dynamics that drive human society to its future. There is a sense that the future flows naturally and smoothly from the past and that life is an organic whole, with each atom acting within its destiny to map anew another. The operative word here is “acting”; that of being an agent. Therefore, while surrender to the karmic law is inevitable life is never without purpose.

Here in paradise the other, an other, in fact, every other is without basis. Yes, there is good and evil trapped in an eternal battle as depicted in the Barong dance, which captivates the discerning audience into a trance-like adoration of its profundity, but good and evil is not translated in the elsewhere ubiquitous tendency of seeing these two life forces as embodied in ‘us’ and ‘them’. That the consequence of the latter perception is dire does not bear repeating. Suffice it to say that in Bali that perception has been almost successfully – if ever it existed – eliminated. Visitors coming prepared to embrace the terms of this weltanschauung will fall in love with life as they never could before.

It is only by respecting the warmth of the Balinese and not misinterpreting it as servitude to the tourist trade – undoubtedly the economic mainstay of the island – that a guest will learn of the effortlessness of the local welcome. One is at home, at ease and at peace with the elements and the people. Shame on those who have been to Bali and think that the friendship extended is contrived for economic benefits. The opposite is true: Bali is reaping the bountiful harvest of ‘past lives’ that have evolved into near perfection.

That near perfection is, in all probability, born of an annual ritualistic introspection known as Nyepi, which heralds the Balinese Saka New Year. This is a day of silence and meditation: no talking, no walking, no cooking. The nyepi ritual implies the recognition that good and evil exists within each one of us. Hence, life is the perennial battle which preserves the ascendance of good over evil within oneself: a good that has little use for deprecation, pontification and condescension; and, an evil that pegs itself on the ego. Success is the selfless self that finds expression in work. One must work. One must assist the desa pura to do its best by its congregation. One must have the means to ensure the wholesomeness of spirit, one’s own and that of those one is responsible for, from cradle to grave. No matter where one may be bodily, there is always someone at home making sure of the integrity of one’s spirit. And so, the Balinese is, spiritually at least, never not home.

It is, surely, this deep concern for the spirit that appears to sustain the Balinese soul. Take, for instance, ngaben. There is no mistaking the obligation on the living of cremating the earthly remains of their dead. And, in order to not economically cripple the bereaved the desa organizes, every few years, a communal cremation ceremony. The remains buried in the cemetery – always at the kelod or seaward end of the desa because the Balinese believe that the land becomes increasingly more impure the further it is from the mountains – is disinterred and ritually cremated in a mass ceremony so that the soul is released to be reincarnated in a newborn. The belief is, as it should be, that the dead ought to be on the funeral pyre as soon as possible so that he or she may quickly experience a re-birth. However, the rites of passage cannot be compromised. Hence, the communal ngaben, so that to each soul is accorded its every need.

Is this not then an expression of soul: of kin and community; of solidarity and empathy; of love and sympathy? And so, Bali is unique because she is God’s.

Picture: A pura on Nusa Dua beach, Bali.

WELCOME TO BANDUNG

THIS is strictly for the ladies. Sorry fellas, I don't think this is your cup of anything unless, of course, you have heard that Bandung is a city of beautiful women.

Us ladies are more into history and much more, especially the shopping, and some sights of course, if only not to appear too brain dead. But do forgive us women and please understand that "retail therapy" does contribute to the preservation of our sanity. You can't stand us when we are nervy. When we are that you think we are neurotic and quite certifiable. So, when we rave about the shopping don't judge us. Think of how beneficial it is in maintaining your tranquility, your serenity and your sanity too. In fact, you may think what you like as long as you do not begrudge us the simple pleasures of travel while shopping.

A friend has just returned from Bandung. By the way, she did not mention any of this but this is an Indonesian city only 2 hours south of the capital, Jakarta. It is not a financial centre but it is quite a money-spinner. The city has an industrial area stuffed with factories manufacturing all sorts of anything that will sell including the aircraft CN235. I kid you not. It is, therefore, a thriving manufacturing city. But that is not all. It is too quite a hotbed of opinions, polemics and the likes. Here the media is pulsing with activity. Here it is popular culture that dominates and here there are boutiques galore even in the most unexpected places. Imagine what it is like when you are in the high street. It is a shopper's paradise.

Girls, you go to Chiamplas to get all manner of "branded" jeans. Can you imagine a long road of little boutiques and shops of T-shirts and jeans and all manner of accesories that you may or may not need. In and out, from one shop to another. You do this until you drop because you are not only looking for the best fitting, you are scrambling for the best price and it does become dirt cheap if you have the energy. Try an Escada that is some RP60,000 a pair. That is just about US 6 dollars. Yes I do realise you can get clothes quite cheaply in the bargain basements of the stores in the US, but remember those are not branded. This is why, after all is said and done, few go away thinking that the city can be impossible to drive through. The good shopping more than makes up for what is a mere trifle of a problem. Your agitated state then was only a case of the jitters brought on by the fear that the traffic jam might become your nemesis in this greatest of challenges: to spend as little as possible for as much "of the best" as you can get.

Yes, indeed, there is more to this city than mere factory runoffs from many of the world's designer labels. This is a city with a renowned university, Padjajaran. Once upon a time, before the city played host to the modern economy it was a beautifully cool hill resort, urbane and dignified, and very much a favourite with the Dutch colonialists. And, before the toll road to Jakarta was opened to facilitate Bandung's hosting of the APEC Summit some 2 years back, Bandung was a good 4 hours away via the scenic route of Puncak Pass. The thick mist and cold of Puncak gave it an Alpine feel that makes the arduous journey seem very worthwhile.

For those who are intent on a National Geographic experience the volcano, Tangkuban Perahu, is but a few kilometers away. Just prior to the APEC summit it became active giving rise to speculations on whether it might not explode whilst the heads of governments were meeting. And, for Malaysians Bandung is but a short hop away from Kuala Lumpur by the now ubiquitous regional budget airlines Air Asia. My friend who just came back, she took a package with them and was in and out of the city, with the 2 empty suitcases she brought suitably jam packed, in just 2 days. Have a car waiting for you at the airport and the retail therapy's success far outstrips that of a roll in the hay!

And oh, I don't mean to make it seem unimportant, but I apologise profusely for quite forgetting the historical significance of this beautiful city. It is here that Soekarno, Indonesia's first president, declared the nation's independence from 350 years of Dutch rule. Here too, was where the first meeting of the non-aligned nations was held also during Soekarno's presidency. Voila, there you have it, an enchanting and extraordinary city.

Picture: Gedung Merdeka, Bandung city centre.

MURDER MOST FOUL

WAS IT A SHOCK? Most certainly and more. The news that an acquaintance is implicated in a horrifyingly gruesome murder of the most cynical calibre, the type seen mostly in horror movies, sent shivers down my spine and made my stomach turn. And, with former prime minister, Tun Mahathir, publicly lambasting the performance of his chosen successor, Abdullah Ahmad Badawi, it lent the troubled political climate an ominous twist. I feared for my country and probably so did the Tun who suffered a mild heart attack .

When last week, charged with aiding and abetting in the murder of a beautiful Mongolian model (for details go to http://the-malaysian.blogspot.com/2006/11/is-abdul-razak-baginda-political.html ) he was released on bail on medical grounds, one hoped that his state of health did really warrant such an act of mercy. But then again, a charged man is innocent until proven guilty and the onus is on the prosecution to prove his guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt. Not vice-versa. All the accused has to do under these circumstances is to produce a bond to the court the worth of which should be debilitating enough to discourage any thought of absconding. This, Abdul Razak Abdullah Baginda together with the support of his siblings, fulfilled to the satisfaction of the court.

No doubt this is a high profile case and public appetite is indeed whetted. Kuala Lumpur's rumour mill is running overtime with all manner of speculations and gossips that do not bear repeating here, or anywhere for that matter, for its possible litigious consequences.

What of Abdul Razak, the public persona? He has become high society with a nice home in a salubrious part of the capital. From a young, earnest, pleasant and cheerful academic he climbed up the ladder of generally received success to become a close aide of the present Deputy Prime Minister, having moved with the man through a couple of portfolios. Last I met him a few years back at one of the conferences his think-tank organised, Abdul Razak appeared to still possess the 'innocence' of his younger years -- which I pray has not translated into naivete with the years -- but looking tired and overworked, not that this stopped him from doing his job. He seemed to be a natural at networking. He even had time for a short chat with me. Is it any wonder then that he is, career-wise, where he is today, a high-flying intellectual once with his own talk show and newspaper column? He has done very well for himself and like the public I am left bewildered by the whole sorry episode. I can only reserve judgment on the matter and allow the courts to dutifully perform its function of upholding justice.

However, the truly distressing part of this real life whodunit, which has strangely not enraged too many Malaysians, media and masses both, is the involvement of serving police personnel reaching quite high up the managerial echelon. That this aspect of the case has not generated the same excitement speaks volumes of what the nation is on the road to becoming. Whichever way we wish to perceive of the matter it still is one of doom and gloom. If the perpetrators had been ex-police personnel, it would not have improved matters one iota. Of course, the Royal Commission report on the police was damning. Corruption, we were told, had crept into all levels of the police force. But this is no excuse for complacency. For every incident of possible misconduct and corruption there must be a huge public furore raised to keep the pressure on so that Malaysians may enjoy a predictable, safe and stable society, if not for now then for the future. (For a mainstream media take on the Royal Malaysian Police Force click http://thestar.com.my/columnists/story.asp?file=/columnists/2006/2/8/wongsulong/13330177&sec=Wong%20Su%20Long )

One last observation on the week that was. Lawyer for the defence and the famous attorney-cum-opposition politician Karpal Singh, who was there holding a watching brief for the victim's family, came out slugging, verbally, at each other. That added a farcical touch to an already surreal saga. Do we laugh or do we cry? You tell me, please.

(For those looking for a wicked laugh click http://malaysia-today.net/blog2006/holds.php?itemid=927 ).

Disclaimer: There is no malice intended in this final link. Its purpose is to bring joy to those who may visit with me and are without any idea that there is much mirth and methodical madness lurking in our midst. It is merely another element in this week's diary.

ON BEING MUSLIM AND WOMAN

You would be forgiven for thinking that Muslims are not as bad as they are made out to be by the Western media if you had based that judgment on what you see and know of me.

Nothing in my appearance, neither in public nor private, would give away my Muslim identity. To the average person I am just another Modern Millie in my jeans and T-shirt. When I open my mouth to speak you will become even more convinced that Islam is a perfectly reasonable religion if I am to be your idea of a Muslim. In my conduct you will find more reason to think that maybe it is Osama Bin Laden who is not a Muslim despite what everyone says. But, I assure you we both are. We sit at the two extremities of an Islamic spectrum. I am, to him, ultra modern and he is, to me, ultra conservative. Mind you, it would be a long shot indeed if the likes of Bin Laden would embrace me unconditionally as a co-religionist and fellow traveller.

Bin Laden, currently the icon of Islamic extremism, and his cohorts would have women such as I trussed up like a Christmas turkey and publicly shot in the head, as happened in Taliban-ruled Afghanistan, for the simple mistake of daring to be modern in a conservative Muslim environment. That is beyond doubt cruel in the extreme. And when widows and orphans were left to starve in their homes because women were banned from the public space where markets generally are, it became reason enough to justify the invasion of Afghanistan by the so-called international community spearheaded by the United States. (My female instincts tell me it was a necessary intervention to end a misogynistic policy that is potentially capable of genocidal consequences, but my political beliefs need assurances that this act of interfering in a nation's domestic affairs, no matter how divided that nation is, had not other motivations than humanitarian ones.)

But how have I and other like-minded Muslim women sinned against God or for that matter, the religion?

To the conservatives, and the extremists more so, a woman may not be allowed in public without being covered from top to toe in a way that does not flaunt the female form. That is a definite NO. Why? Because, according to them, just by her being woman she can give rise to fitnah. Maybe true in the Arabia of Prophet Mohammad saw's time where a slander against Aishah, his wife, prompted the revelation of verses 11-20 of surah 24 of the Quran. Is the same, however, true of the modern world or is it even true of primitive societies? Look at the vestiges of what was our ancient ancestors. Despite their nakedness, the social mores of native Amazonians are no less structured. The family unit does exist. If what some men want us to believe is true, that the female form can provoke the uncontrollable urges of a rampant male sexuality, then how come the father, mother, sons, daughters, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandfathers and grandmothers are distinct social identities amongst primitive peoples.

My problems as a Muslim woman living in an Islamic society that is willing itself into regression even as I write, has its roots here -- women's sexuality. This is my take on the problem. I believe this to be so because the mother-nurturer character of being woman is no adequate reason for gender segregation, the purda and, most importantly, a less than equal status. A woman's reproductive role both physical and social does not limit her to the four walls of her home, as is obvious in today's world of working mothers. And, I agree wholeheartedly when in her book "This Is How We Do It" Carol Evans argues that modernity has provided us with so many possibilities of personal and professional development and advancement that a mother's financial contribution has become essential if the average family unit is to progress. A mother's economic contribution would avail the children of a good education, health care, nutrition and such extras as horizon expanding experiences, which only money can buy in today's less than self-effacing capitalist world. When children succeed wouldn't the ultimate beneficiary be humanity in general?

It is not unreasonable when a dependent is treated unequally but with respect. Contemporary women though are never voluntarily dependent. The state of dependence is nowadays one of choice and is not gender specific. Therefore, gender inequality is simply, unjust. When this unequal human construct is camouflaged as divine injunction and practised absolutely rigidly, my life is turned into a living hell.

But as luck would have it my Malay, woman-friendly cultural heritage and my multi-religion country, Malaysia, provides a buffer against Islam's apparently many misogynists and allows me the democratic space that my non-Muslim countrywomen enjoy. Nevertheless, without a spirited wariness on the part of my Muslim sisters that space can be lost. Everyday somewhere in the country some right is being taken away from a Muslim woman. Then there are the unforgettable miseries of losing the simple right to self-affirmation as when overnight Muslim women were barred from participating in beauty pageants. Often we wake up to insults that injure our honour and dignity as happened when laws to protect women are allowed, by the powers-that-be, to be openly circumvented by polygamous men, for instance. The Islamic law courts, too, do little to enforce their own judgments vis-a-vis alimony and child support. The greatest injury of all to Muslims in general in this country is that when the Islamic law system fails them they have no recourse to justice because as precedents indicate, judges of the civil courts have little stomach to sit over disputes about the religion. Is it not unconstitutional to deprive a citizen of the law's protection?

Picture: The Atta'wan Mosque in Puncak, Indonesia, nestled among the mountains and the tea gardens.
Disclaimer: This is a distinctly personal perception not intended to offend anyone. If you have anything to add to enrich the writer's opinions please feel free to comment.

KNOW WHEN TO LEAVE A BAD MARRIAGE

SOMETIMES it is not easy to see when things are going wrong and when it has do with marriage it becomes even more so. This is understandable for women who when girls are generally fed a staple diet of happy-ever-after fairy tales. These women grow up waiting for a Prince Charming. Princess Diana is probably the classic example.
We women are conditioned to view marriage and the family as ‘sacred’ institutions to be cherished and preserved, if not for us then for the children. “Its for the children” is too common a refrain and often times it is said by women who suffer marital violence and surely one cannot say that these women do not realize that their marriage has more then soured. Yet, if they cannot see that the end is nigh, is it any wonder that the rest of us go on thinking that our marriage is blissful long after it has turned into nothing but blisters.
Take me for instance. Having fallen in love at a very young age to a good looker the problem of accepting a failed marriage is near impossible. A handsome man is a trophy. Imagine winning the World Cup, would you be able to let it go quick? And, two good looking sons do not make things easier. What you do actually want to believe is that you live in a fairy tale even when you are more than aware that it is wearing thin at the edges and well frayed at the centre.
However, is not denial an effective tool of survival? The issue before us then is how to get over the denial phase calmly and begin grappling with the inevitable – separation and ultimate divorce.
Now, what is a bad marriage? One definition which cannot go wrong is when the marriage is killing you slowly: mental and emotional pressures tantamount to torture. We all know that her bad marriage made Diana bulimic. Are you married, bulimic and/or neurotic? Do you not love yourself, that is, you let go? Your hair is tousled; you look like a sack of potatoes. In short, you lack self-esteem. Not all such cases is caused by bad marriages, of course, but a good marriage, one would have thought, is the best defence against encroaching fears of self-worth.
Another indicator that all is not well is when a wife fears a husband’s censure. Where fear lives there is much unhappiness. Whether a wife submits or shouts back is not the point. The fact is that this cannot be a happy marriage. And, if that mockery of a marriage is sustained only so the children can have a stable family then we are much mistaken. A child needs a healthy family so he or she can thrive. Remember, the buzz word here is HEALTHY; stuff the stable. A good single parent or step parent is better than a couple of lousy natural mother and father.
Seldom do bad marriages end up as good divorces. There will be recriminations and revenge and Asian women are most at risk from vindictive husbands. So, good planning is essential once we can admit to ourselves that it is over; that we made a horrendous mistake.
Such questions as who gets custody of the children (Muslim women should not bother with wanting guardianship because this is a man’s privilege); to whom will the marital home be given; what alimony quantum or will there be any alimony and so on and so forth, must be faced squarely
Trust me there is life after marriage. The aim is to make sure that it will not be a matter of coming out of the frying pan only to fall into the fire. For a working woman income is probably not too much of a bother, but child support should not be forfeited in the name of freedom. Try not to make custody a battle because it could tear the children apart. They are loyal little people, our children. Few know how to hate their parents even when they are bad. Every attempt must be made to ensure that a child’s love for both parents is not tested at all, where possible. A good divorce, therefore, is about staying totally engaged – you and your would-be ex.
Of course, this is the ideal situation. Who could be so lucky, you may ask. But persevere you must and this is indeed for the children’s sake.
When there are no children things are much easier, but be sure not to go about your divorce willy-nilly nor should you avenge yourself. The thing about it all is that getting out of a bad marriage is about preserving a healthy spirit, even when you are the dumped and not the dumpee. Stay sensible, no matter how difficult. Remember, change is a breath of fresh air loaded with gifts.

BOOK REVIEW

TITLE: THIS IS HOW WE DO IT
AUTHOR: CAROL EVANS
PUBLISHER: HUDSON STREET PRESS
Published by Penguin Group, 2006

I close the cover of this book feeling rather short-changed. Not because the book was badly written, far from it. Neither was it misleading, in fact the reverse is true. It is a treasure trove of very useful information. Is it uninteresting? I read it cover-to-cover without really having to force myself. This book is liberally dotted with beautiful anecdotes of a caring, loving, working mother who has made a success of her parenting role and her career, the two though distinctly separate is sometimes woven together in a “work-life fusion” to make for a happier working mother.
Nevertheless, as a woman and a working mother myself for most of my working years I thought that Ms Evans was a little too uncritical of her society-given lot. But before perceptions are dragged in let’s give objectivity a chance.
This book is written by a woman whose success as a marketer must come from her obvious diplomatic skills, which while empathetic is well anchored in a reality that is patiently brought round to her way of thinking. Nothing in this book can be construed as aggressively feminist. The author is not, mind you, anti-feminist. It is obvious that she believes in women’s rights and more. For, she appears to view the family unit vis-à-vis the needs of its children as almost a holy grail, even when a career woman is a single parent.
Now, why I say this is not a book for the diehard feminist is because the working mother’s double burden is not an issue, rather is a given and the book’s purpose is to help working mothers cope with the double burden so that she is not only a good mother, but maybe, more importantly, that the ‘good mother’ bit does not get in the way of her being a good employee. This is not to say that Ms Evans puts the family obligations last. Most definitely NOT!
Family obligations are it that prompted the book, mainly the result of a 2005 survey conducted by the magazine she owns and runs called “Working Mother”. The What Moms Want survey asked more than 500 working women across the USA “who cares for their kids, how much do they spend on childcare, how does having children affect their ambitions and careers?” The aim was to understand the gaps that most needed filling when it comes to the kinds of community and workplace support that working mothers need and to set the benchmark for the next 25 years of progress.
Here is a book that places the working mother on a pedestal of sorts; the wonder woman who has spun round one too many times and realize that more than super power is needed to balance the double burden.
What it tries to do is tell the reader that a mother working is, in this day and age, essential towards ensuring that the children can have most, if not all, the advantages that life has to offer: better education; nice homes; and, horizon-broadening holidays. Yet, parental and filial duties sometimes demands that mothers be away from work like when the children are unwell, or even aging parents needing care. These are the kinds of obligations that have made mothers unemployable.
On the one hand the message is, of course, targeted at women as the book itself admits: “…for all of us doing it, but want to do better. It is also for those millions of women who haven’t yet added “mother” to their resumes.” On the other, the intention is, without a doubt, to reach employers through these mothers who want to give their best to the family, company and society while at the same time living full lives. Hence the information on how and what to do to get as much support as is feasible from employers, ever mindful that most companies are still operating under Neanderthal assumptions of the male hunter-gatherer.
The thrust of the book is accommodation – push the envelope ever so gently and allow for a gradual social evolution. What it does not want to do is create the notorious sexual revolution that the 19th century blue stockinged feminists hankered after, which the 20th century feminists hoped to achieve by burning their bras as a symbol of open defiance. Now, in the 21st century and the new millennium with necessity dictating the ever-growing numbers of female workers at every level of employment and everywhere, the strategy is to make employers see that happy mothers make for excellent workers and in turn hefty profits. And, the only way to achieve this is to take cognizance of a working mother’s double burden and to lighten it substantially. So its, don’t rock the boat baby, gently does it.
To be fair the author does not ignore the need for activism. Write to your representatives when the need arises and do not wait for others to do it for you, she urges her readers. Despite this I cannot get rid of the feeling that the book is too kind of ‘feel good’ and does not properly capture the reality that can be very harsh for many working mothers, maybe not in the USA but most definitely elsewhere, especially in the developing world.
Seriously, can Malaysian women envisage a policy now of good daycare for the very young and good after-school care for the still-too-young-to-be-latchkey-children? There where Hilary Clinton is looking good to becoming the first woman US president we may safely give the push a feminine touch and get somewhere. Here, there is still much debate on whether Islam allows for a woman premier! That Muslim women can go out to work only with the express permission of their husband is a very close second. Two basic women’s rights issues generally plaguing Muslim women in far too many Muslim societies.
THIS IS HOW WE DO IT is a reference book with a pleasant difference. For us here it is a look-in on working mothers who are firmly on the path of gender enlightenment, but one with a distinctly sentimental twist: a future of "happy families" where both Mr and Mrs Baker wears pants and Master and Miss Baker are well-adjusted children rich in character moulding experiences well before they even get to university. After all, isn’t the university life’s starting line, where the scramble for survival begins?
END

TOUCHING HEAVEN

Has any of you ever hoped for heaven and found paradise? Maybe I did when sometime last year I found a little modest getaway tucked along the slope of a mountain high up above the beautiful Indonesian city of Bogor.

Firdaus, the Arabic for paradise, came to me in one of my life's most miraculous phases. Like all miracles it was never here to stay and like them it left me gifts, reminders of its visit. That miracle afforded me the opportunity to believe that I had touched Heaven and was in God's presence and in that magical moment I fell really in love for the very first time.

Even if Firdaus was to be taken from me I would still have its many beautiful imprints on my mind.

There is that unforgettable evening when we were awed by the setting sun sinking behind the distant mountain appearing as a raging fire burning the mountain and the twilight horizon, and painting the early evening sky with bright, strong hues of orange and red. Then the day when the thick, cold, damp mist roll in at such speed that it took over our sitting room before we had time to shut it out and after it had swallowed the world outside mercilessly. That day I understood how awful it would be without someone always there to love and comfort me; someone I too loved unconditionally. For, the house was like a little toy wrapped in cotton wool, quite alone. It could well have been in its own gift box at that moment ready for God to give away as a present. What about that late afternoon when the gale stormed into the valley and ripped the roofs of many of the more exposed dwellings. I remember the fear so clearly nuanced into the unscheduled muezzin call to prayer, a call made stronger by a faith buoyed by danger. I knew then that my humble retreat was indeed heaven for we were left mostly untouched in our little niche in the well of the mountain's palm.

I must have touched Heaven at least once if not always when I am home in Firdaus. Its mock log cabin facade may seem tacky to the arty-farty, but to me it blends in nicely as man's friendly gesture to the environment. For, I have been toying with giving it a touch of class, like Corinthian columns holding up an imposing porch so the Parthenon may be reproduced and the ancient Greek gods be given a home away from home. Or even a brush of white and aquamarine blue and maybe succeed in hauling the Mediterranean up to the mountains. But, other than the constraints of money, that little cabin seems so perfect for where it is.

TO HELL AND HOPEFULLY BACK

Some disenchanted evening everything can suddenly become strange and someone you think you know becomes a total stranger. That's when you start thinking "Hi Bali" or even Singapore or Jakarta. Anywhere for that matter for there it will be better than where you are.

When that happened to me it was a devastating experience because of the enormity of the triggering incident. If I was not careful and act immediately to protect myself I would land in jail!!!

And so all hell broke loose for me leaving me feeling undoubtedly adrift and drowning in self-doubt. Not because I had much choice. I did not. There was but only one way to go and I didn't even know then whether I'd be going forward, sideways or in reverse. In hindsight, it is looking like I am locked in the last condition -- going backwards with no rear view mirror; a neck so stiff I cannot turn round to ensure my safety; and, with the motor still most definitely running. At what speed? I cannot tell because I am not sure.

Why any doubt when the situation was dire? Loyalty born of naivete brought on by a nurture pegged to filial piety. A pervasive Asian value not normally malignant in effect, but probably outmoded in a world of capitalist avarice and legally doubtful business practices.

Where modernity collides with neo-feudalism, questions of right from wrong within a given legal framework becomes the imperative of all actions, especially in matters relating to money. It is a bad situation made worse by laws adopted that are alien to local morass. Consequently, practitioners of the law and laymen alike, in this environment, view the challenge as working round the law and not to uphold justice as the law is intended to do. In my case, it took the all too real threat of jail to prompt me to do the "right" thing by me, at least. With any luck justice will be served but at the moment its looking very doubtful from where I am standing.

It is a cat and mouse game where the little flea has very little hope in hell if it clings on to either host. It is best for the flea to flee post haste. And so, the birth of my blog. A new odyssey begins adding another layer to a now much layered existence. Whither I wander I can never be sure. The only certainty is SAMSARA.

GETTING TO KNOW ME

I can't be sure who I am and so, in all honesty, what I am sharing with you is much guess work. Yes, the state knows me as my given name, who my parents are, the date I was born, where I was born and lately my religious fate. The state gave me a number, part of a series that is expected to go on and on and on... You catch my drift? I am but a number verified by my thumb print. Therefore, but for the personal numbers we have been assigned, you and I are essentially the same.

I resent this thought. The state cannot take away my individuality even if it took my numbers after I am dead and assign it to another.

I am me. Call me whatever you like I will be me even in my state of not knowing who I really am. And so, I invite you to give me a name and tell me why you think I should be that name.
But before that a few hints to assist in this naming game.
1. I AM WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR
2. R-E-S-P-E-C-T
3. Immortality
4. Moonlight Sonata