An Indonesian Journal

Assalamualaikum wr wb, 

I decided to write again after a simple Facebook update that I made. The discussion of that status has somehow created an essay in my head. That in my mind I have been telling myself what words and what backup point and what opinions I have to say, regarding one status in Facebook. Before I sleep, I planned what to write on that topic and I have all the evidence in my head but I never structured them. So, today in this one lovely dreary afternoon in Banda Aceh, I finally have to write the essay that I have wanted to write for so long. 

After growing up in various places, my opinion towards men and women changed slightly. There was a phase where I did not think I will get married and adopt as many girls as possible because I did not like the term “submitting myself to a man after marriage”, there was a phase where I realised that marriage is also a way to Jannah or paradise, and there was a phase when I began questioning the whole structure of why are men given the privilege to “command” women. 

In my early years, I got the exposure that women have the same capabilities with men. My mum went to IPB or Institut Pertanian Bogor which is Bogor Agriculture Institute. My Abuchik (grandfather in Acehnese) was a visionary man. He sent my mum away to Java to go to school in the 1980s. When at that time women did not even finish school and they end up getting married. My Bundacut (my maternal aunt) studied up to masters degree. 

My dad’s family also have a similar background. Kakek Abu (paternal grandfather) asked my dad to continue his studies no matter what. My youngest aunt also completed her degree. As you can see, in my early years of life, my parents have taught me that education is important. As well as the exposure that women are equally capable as men are. 

But then I started going to the musalla (a place to pray like a mosque but a smaller), where we are taught the responsibilities of men and women. It struck me bad. Where us as women, we are supposed to stay at home, tend the children, bear as many children as possible and submit ourselves to our husbands’ wishes and commands. I hated the word submit at that time, because I believed we have to submit ourselves only to God. I start questioning my religion. Is it really this strict, that I as a woman myself cannot do anything after marriage and put everything my husband first before I put my own needs? I liked everything else about Islam and I hated that one part. I did my own readings here and there, looking for the answers that I have been searching. No Muslim scholar ever stated WHY is it that a man is the leader of a family not women, or WHY is it that us women have to submit ourselves to his commands or WHY is it that the Quran states that men are above us women by one level. I searched and searched my to the answer to my question but I never got any. 

After a while, I gave up. I did not want to know the answer and I just stayed quite. I hope that I will one day find the answers to all of those questions myself. So I moved to the UK at the age of 13, and a new phase begins, feminism. I was an avid feminist back then at the age of 14. Believing that women should have equal rights as men are. Believing that women are entitled to the opportunities just like men. When I was in sixth form college, my Muslim friends noticed that I am a feminist and if a boy ever said anything bad about a girl, I would snap at that boy. 

So one day, I read an article about the western feminism. There is a woman who is asking whether if she can be topless on a beach just like men. I was so surprised with what she stated in that article. Even though I was a feminist back then, that particular article made me feel bad as a feminist myself. So then I changed my way of thinking, instead of being a feminist, I wanted to be a warrior that seeks knowledge for the sake of women. I started my readings again and realised one thing, I have not find the answers that I am looking for. 

Before I know it, I moved to Malaysia in November 2007, I was by myself this time. The perception of women in Malaysia is mixed as it is in Indonesia. A lot of the perceptions towards women are usually based on culture and on religion. The traditional role of a woman is to be a homemaker. Stay at home, bear as many children as possible, feed the children, take care of the house and take care of the husband. A lot of people in my mum’s era said that there is no need for a woman to go to school as she will end up in the kitchen anyway. Again, I hated this opinion and started hunting for answers myself. 

I read and I read but none of the Muslim books that I read tell me why are men given the privilege to lead women and lead an entire family. Sadly but true, Dr John Gray, together with Alan and Barbara Pease from Australia have given me the answer. Alan and Barbara Pease are Australian, if I am not mistaken, together they wrote a book about the differences between men and women and why they are essential to our survival. The book is called, Why men don’t listen and why women cannot read maps. I conclude that this book will provide me with answers, since I do know that I cannot read maps. 

The couple did an extensive research to find out why us both men and women turn out the way we do. Obviously they are westerners who believe in the theory of evolution, while I believe that everything is created by God. I try to relate the things that they write in the book to what Islam has stated the roles of men and women. 

Interestingly, they said that our brain are wired like this from thousands of years ago. There is a saying in Islam that said that men have 9 minds but only 1 nafsu, but women have 1 mind but 9 nafsu. I finally understood the meaning of this when I read this book! Men are already focused to give seeds to women, that is why their nafsu is to have sex with women. It is vital for the survival of human being. It is important that a man to give the seeds to a woman, therefore human beings will not be disappear in the next generation. Women were already wired to child rearing. I found this out because women are more attached to their children as they are the ones who carry the children for 9 months. She has more nafsu than the men, which means she has more things that she wants in her life. If you notice, us women, we buy new shoes, new clothes, new drapes, new bedsheets all the time. Because we were created that way. With this, the house is tidy and it is taken care of. If women were to have only 1 nafsu like the men, the human race will be doing sex most of the time and nobody will take care of the children. 

Men are more focused on hunting for food. As food is also an essential means to survive. They can stay focused at one target at a time and capture a deer in no time with their high concentration levels and focus. Whereas women, we have smaller focus, as we only have 1 mind, we like to divide our attention to different things and we can multitaks. Imagine if a women cannot multitask. Who will cook dinner and make the baby stop crying at the same time? 

After reading what Mr and Mrs Pease have to say, I realised that we were created to complement each other. What men have, the focus and great attention at a target, helps a family to reach a new generation by providing food on the table. With women great attention to detail, they can help their husbands to fill in the gaps that the husbands have made. They can notice if anything is wrong with the house or with the children. They can even help their husbands in making decision. 

By reading this book by accident, I found out that we were all partners to begin with. That every man is paired with a woman. And their duty is to survive in this world and to procreate. It is in our nature to be that way. And that we were created with differences as we are supposed to complement each other. 

I founf out my own meaning of submit to husband’s commands. Since he has 9 minds and he can focus at a problem with undivided attention, I believe that sometimes fathers and husbands can see a problem with a different outlook. That their decision covers 2-3 years worth of life, whereas a woman’s decision may only be for a 1 month’s worth of life. Women are created to be partners for men. We are here to fill in the gaps of the things that they cannot do. For example, paying attention to detail. Some men may not even notice that their children are sick. Or if their children are having weird rashes on their body. 

I realised that I have my answers now. I just hoped that Muslim scholars have answers to the question I have been asking for years. At the age of 21, I finally understood that the Quran sometimes is not to be intepreted literally. I have to make my own effort to find out why it was written that way. 

Assalamualaikum!

Assalamualaikum wr wb,

I decided to write about the topic stated above, because we all have our fair share when it comes to jealousy. 

I won’t deny it, I have been jealous of other people in my life. When I was in the UK, the one thing I was jealous about is having friends. Having someone that you can relate to. Having someone to spend your time with. I hoped too much when I arrived in the UK. Hoping that the people will be nice and interested with the new girl. The truth was, nobody was interested. I was so scared and shocked on my first day at school. I cried and I wanted to go back to my hometown at that time. In my school, everybody had a friend. They had their gang members. They had unspoken rule, which girl to be friends with, which boy has a name on his chair in drama class, where to sit, who to sit with in your class or your form period and who to talk to when you are in class. It was really a different concept for me. We can just make friends by talking nicely and start up a conversation with someone, if I was back home. But when I was there, I was the weirdo who was lost in school. I was jealous of how other people pick things up easily and have many friends. 

Another jealousy matter is the fact that people can buy so many things, so many clothes that they want. I am a girl and at my puberty age, I wanted numerous stuff. I wanted nice shoes, nice clothes, nice bangles, nice necklaces practically everything. I desperately want to be fashionable in order to be accepted in the society. Later in my years, I learnt that it is okay to not be accepted in the society as long as I am comfortable in my own skin. When I see girls following the latest trends and have so many different things to wear, I feel jealous. I ask myself, why can’t I be her? I ask Allah, why can’t I be her? And why do I have to be me? 

I suffocated myself in jealousy. Everywhere I looked, there is a potential of me being jealous of something. Jealous that people have so much money and I don’t, jealous of people having an easy life but I am leading a rough one, jealous of the happiness of other people, and jealous of people who are successful. These things are always in my head. I won’t deny it, I have been jealous with people who can just ace a test without reading anything the night before!

It is tough to deal with jealousy. I try not to be jealous. Everywhere I look and if I ever feel jealous, I go back home and look at myself in the mirror. Allah has created me perfectly, I have everything I ever needed, they why do I have to feel jealous time and time again? 

The answer is: I am just human, created by Allah, from dirt. Dirt is dirty and I will always have flaws in myself. Yes as muslims we cannot be jealous of other people. But sometimes we just can’t help but be jealous to other people. We just have to make it as a motivation to ourselves to improve our own image. 

Assalamualaikum wr wb

Assalamualaikum wr wb

I have not been writing a lot lately, due to the fact that as soon as I open my Tumblr page, I stared at the scree for so long and my hands froze as soon as they hit the keyboard. Well I guess today, the spirit of writing came back to me. Because of one tumblr page that was shared by a lady in facebook, called Writer’s relief. Instantly the urge for me to write came back. I love writing. It is a part of daily life. I used to dream of becoming an author just like the Enid Blyton. But becoming an author was not an option for me. As I was pretty busy with school and academic work and puberty at that time. 

I am a left-brain dominated person. I like things to be in order. I do things in a certain way. I have a diary that I carry every where and I make lists. I write down the things that I have to do in a day and I make goals that I have to achieve by the end of the week. 

I never considered myself as a creative person. I was just an academic oriented person. I read, I write, I learn, I go to exams and I pass my exams. The days go on like that until one day, I started writing again. On top of that, I was writing in English. A secondary language to me and I hate the complexity of the grammar. Well, at that time. I think until now, grammar is still a big problem for me.

I have never imagined about things until I got into my Creative Thinking class when I was doing my degree. Mdm Chong Pui Yee, a very nice lady, somehow taught me to open my mind to new possibilities. We had to generate ideas in our head and no ideas are wrong. This is one thing that our society lacks, we are afraid of being wrong. 

I was always afraid of being wrong. I hate it when I am wrong. I don’t take it lightly when somebody says that I am wrong. It was tough. But later in life I learnt that I need to be wrong, in order to be right. 

I started to write, and imagine things while I write. It has been a while since I look up the sky and think the clouds as clusters of dragons chasing a rabbit or as a pack of wolves. I haven’t done that in a long time. And in our society, or to correct it, in Asian society, being creative is not an option, being creative is thought to be a wrong thing to do. What we have to do is study, get good grades, and become doctors and engineers. We never made anything original, because being original is a wrong thing. 

From now on, the goal for me is to try and write as much as I can and start fixing my grammar. Possibly even generate money from my writing. I owe thanks to my my former lecturers. I hope I will have the the will to write, even until years to come. 

Assalamualaikum wr wb

I hope there is someone out there waiting for me to write some more stuff. Haha. I am just out of followers. Never mind that. I am back in my hometown, Banda Aceh. The province that is at the northern tip of Sumatra. The place that I lived ever since I was born until I was 14 years old. 

Coming back to Banda Aceh was a rough ride. Delayed for an hour in LCCT airport. Arrived in Banda Aceh feeling hungry, since I did not eat anything from morning. I went out from the place feeling hot and sweaty. The air smelt like plane and it was super hot. Anyways, it was weird really, coming back after being outside for about 8 years, give or take. 

Banda Aceh. Despite the fact that I hate the smokers of Banda Aceh and the trash throwers in the beach, I really liked the clear blue sea and the white sand of Lampuuk beach. Since I was younger, a picnic on the beach was a compulsary event every weekend. My parents and our relatives will go to our favourite beach, either in Lhoknga or Babah Dua beach, just after the Lampuuk beach. Being away for so long, I have forgotten how the beaches looked like. 

I went to Lampuuk beach last week, with my cousin. A lot has changed over the years. Even after the tsunami, people are still going to the beach. Why? Because us peeps from Banda Aceh have nowhere else to go for recreation. Why again? The city is so packed and no movie theatres are allowed to be built. Therefore we are out of recreational spaces. But what hey what are beaches for. 

The trend of Acehnese beaches, is to have small shacks that we can relax in. The shacks are called Balee or Jambo in Acehnese. These shacks are really cool. You can feel the breeze of the wind. These shacks used to be further apart from each other. Now, the shacks are quite close to each other. You can practically hear the so-called cool people next to my shack talking. You can smell the smoke from the guys’ cigarette. You can hear the old man snoring to sleep because the wind had made his day even better. You can hear the screams of little kids. No privacy at all! You can see people throwing trash every where. Literally every where. They like to hang out on a trashy beach I suppose. The toilets. Oh… let’s not go there. They are traditional toilets where you have to take the water from a deep well using a bucket that is tied on to a string. On top of that, there is no roof! I am so not doing number 1 or number 2 there because I am afraid that people will take a peek. 

The only upside of Lampuuk Beach is shown in these pictures. 

As you may have noticed, (I don’t even know if I have many followers) that I am an Indonesian. You see, this citizenship thing to me, never mattered until I moved to the UK. I was just leading a very normal life. All I know is that I am Indonesian. I was born in Banda Aceh, a city at the tip of the Sumatran island. It never occurred to me that race, was such an important issue when I am outside of my country. 

You see in Indonesia, we have so many ethnic groups. My ethnic group is Acehnese. I suppose, since my parents are Acehnese. But there are so many provinces in Indonesia, that even I, as an Indonesian, still not aware of the many ethnic groups that exist in Indonesia. We still have aboriginal people who are fighting for their rights in Papua. I believe long time ago their ancestors were from the Aboriginal people in Australia and Papua Nugini. 

Believe it or not, a lot of Acehnese originated from Vietnam, Champa to be exact. I read an article somewhere that Sultan Iskandar Muda’s admiral was a woman, Laksamana Keumalahayati. She somehow originated from Champa. My dad told me that in Vietnam, there is a group of people that speak just like the Acehnese. In Aceh alone, we have so many dialect. Each province has so many dialects.

When I was in the UK, I had to fill up forms for my medical insurance. I had no idea what to tick when the form asked me about my race, because they had:

Asian-South Asian

Asian-Indian

Asian-Pakistani

Asian-Bangladeshi

Asian-Chinese

Asian-Others, Please state…..

Obviously my race would be “Others” according to these UK forms. I have never encountered forms asking my race back in Indonesia. Usually it will just ask for name, address, and where we were born. So far, I just refer myself as an Indonesian. 

When I come to Malaysia, I had difficulties knowing my race too. Because I have never ever, put up “Melayu” or “Malay” as my race. According to history, the people of Sumatra are actually Malays. But I don’t consider myself as a Malay, I consider myself as an Indonesian. My “suku” or ethnic group will be Acehnese. For us, we have Malays in Medan, Riau, and Padang. Some of the tribes there originated from Malay kingdoms, who decided to settle down in Indonesia. 

I have no clue what to put in my race tick box when I am in Malaysia, well as always, I decided to put my race as:

Asian-Others 

Please state: Indonesian

Even until now, I have confusion of my race when a Malay person come up to me, in the end I will just say:

We are all just a bunch of people who descended from Adam and Hawa, well, and I am a Muslim too, I don’t think race is important at the moment. :D

Thanks for reading! 

Assalamualaikum wr wb.

Yes I know. I am supposed to be working. But instead I write on my tumblr page. Wow. Very productive! Anyhow, yesterday, while having a nice breakfast of soto in a nice warung over the hill in Bangi, I remember my childhood days and starting regretting that I didn’t do more when I was a child. Never mind that. My childhood revolved around my family in Kampung Mulia, where my maternal family resides, and Alue Deah Teungoh, where my paternal family resides. I was not that close to my paternal family. I regret that now. But I do have memories about them. My dad lived in a village near the sea. The air was nice back there. My grandmother’s yard had sand sometime. I remember that there was an old Acehnese styled house right behind her house. A lot of trees covered that old house. During Eid, I would visit every single house in that village. My dad claimed that the entire village, and the village next to it housed our relatives. From my grandmother and my grandfather’s side. Upon entering my dad’s village, there are graveyards of ancient rulers. It is so sad that graves are not well preserved by the local authority. 

Back then, my youngest aunt, Cek Yaya, would take me to the beach early in the morning. We walked all the way to the beach from my grandmother’s house. I have my breakfast over at the beach in a small shack. Then we would stop by at a local market to get tempe (product of soy beans). 

I remember vividly that I was not allowed to use the toilet that was located inside the house. I had to go to the toilet that was outside of the house and take water from the well. Nowadays when I go to houses in Banda Aceh, I can no longer find wells at the back of the houses. The toilet was kinda big, and scary at the same time. The water would run down the floor to a hole that ferry the water outside of the toilet. Since my grandmother lived near the sea, I remember seeing crabs on that hole and I keep thinking that the crab are taking a peek when I was in the toilet. 

Six years passed by and I keep thinking about Cek Yaya and my grandmother. Wishing that I had said things that I wanted to say now. May Allah forgive all their sins and accept their good deeds. 

I have been invited to several Malaysian weddings. The first one was 4 years ago, while I was still in Foundation in IT. It was one of Nana’s cousin’s wedding. It was simple but it was a joyous occasion. I am not used to the types of weddings that they have here. But it was very kingdom-my like wedding. With a group of kids hitting the kompang, a traditional instrument, similar to rebana but smaller, it makes a very sharp noise. Then the couple would walk arm in arm to their seats where they would go for a makan beradat. There would be young girls dancing a Malay traditional dance in front of them or a group of people performing silat for them. Very diraja like I suppose. 

It is more or less the same with the weddings that we have back in Indonesia. Recently, I went Eymo’s brother’s wedding. It was also a simple one but very jolly. Her entire family members were there and it was a lovely setting too. I liked the tents, which were white and blue, and the couple wore something way off from the tents. They wore dark grey traditional Malaysian wedding clothes. You see, sometimes people wear the same tones of colour with their tents. But I loved the fact that everyone is very chilled and just enjoyed the food provided. Aha! Food. When it comes to weddings in Malaysia, they serve either nasi briyani or nasi minyak. It is not as much as what I would expect. Because when I was back home and my aunts and uncles got married, food was the most important thing. You have to serve your guests with nice food. But it is a completely different thing here. Nasi minyak and nasi briyani is the trademark of a wedding. So far, all the weddings that I have attended serve both nasi minyak and nasi briyani. 

By far, I am glad that I meet these people and made them my friends, otherwise I wouldn’t know how nice nasi minyak is. (maybe it is really nice because is it free!)

Anyhow, this is the picture of the day.

We want so many things in life. As girls, we follow the latest fashion, the latest hand bags, the latest shoes, ankle peep booties, the latest scarves and the latest trends. We want the latest looks, we want to look like the models in the magazines, in Vogue, in Seventeen and in Marie Claire. 

It is tough living in this world right now at this time. We are bombarded with images from the magazines and from the media of who should we be, instead of accepting the way we are and continue to live life to the fullest. I was in that position once. Where I never had anything new, where I had to live off charity shop clothes and shoes. When I go to Primark in Leeds, instead to of going to River Island, Zara, or TopShop. Simply said, I cannot afford even the most of the high street brands. 

It was tough, looking at girls wearing and buying the things that they want. As girls, it has been implanted to us, that we must look good at any occasion. I brushed those thoughts away by just accepting the way I am and the way I look. 

By the time I moved to Malaysia to pursue my degree, I started to become comfortable with my headscarf, as it is a land where most people cover their hair, compared to in UK. But then, bit by bit, my feelings towards having the latest clothes, the latest trend, the latest of everything caught up to me. I started wanting the things that other girls want. I read blogs and become jealous with the amount of money that they have. They can afford to buy things from Zara, TopShop and other high-end high street brands. And I am still stuck with the same old me. Buying stuff from Googles and Esprit outlet after days and days worth of saving money. I am always jealous with the fact that they can get all of the things that they want in life just in a click of a button. 

I started to re-evaluate myself on what I want in life. I love books, so I continues buying them. I see them as a NEED. I love to dress up, but clothes are also a need sometimes, but some other time they become want. In the end when I got confused, I try to put myself on other people’s shoes. They have nothing in their pocket, but they are still happy and contented with what they have.

I realised that I want so many things in life but I give so little. I keep wanting and wanting, until the things that I want, no longer give me the satisfaction that I longed for. I guess those are the problems that a shopaholic would feel. A temporary relief of a long-term problem. 

I guess I just have to be patient with myself wanting things in life. I hope in the future, I would be able to give more and more to other people. I hope I would be okay looking like this: