A Rose Among The Many Thorns...

Even before Steve embraced Islam and become Lateef in the late nineties, he was already an integral part of not only the Gayong America family but ours as well. So were the rest of the students, especially the non-Muslims. They camped out on our floors on weekends and holidays and spent their summers with us. So, while we missed our respective families at home, Aimen and I were always surrounded by students who are so trustworthy, caring and extremely diligent in their pursuit of learning silat. They lived, ate and drank silat and while they did that, inevitably they were also immersing themselves in Islamic lifestyles. But even with that, we were clueless when we got a call from Steve one day saying he is ready, we asked, "Ready for what, Steve?" "For Islam," came the answer...

So, with that, he pursued Islam with such furious vigor and vitality that puts most Muslims to shame. He embraced Islam not only in name but also adapted himself quickly to the demands and rigors of Islam. Before our teary and watchful eyes, he transformed and bloomed into a beautiful Muslim. I wish I had documented his inspirational journey for all to witness as he is certainly exemplary in this regard.

Whilst learning silat, the students were also immersing themselves into the Malay culture. They would kiss the hands of their elders upon entry and exit, eat with their hands, sit on the floor when their elders sat on chairs, wear kain pelikat, watch silat movies and eat Malay food. We'd spend hours and hours sitting and laughing at the dinner table over dunkin' donuts' coffee and bagels, talking about everything under the spectrum and at the same time share our experiences, religion and culture.

Lateef's penchant for all things Malaysian at that time included his intention of finding a Malaysian as his life companion. His best bet was the internet as the tiny one horsetown of Paulsboro had very little to offer by way of prospective brides...One weekend, he asked if he could bring someone...our eyes lit up and of course he was bombarded with questions after questions! Excitement permeated the household when it was time to meet this 'person'. I was exceptionally pleased at the prospect of having someone to share my kitchen with, as for the last 10 years or so, I was the only female in the silat household!!

Latifah was a Post Graduate student from Cornell, upstate New York. Originally from Pahang, she had been in the United States for a few years. At that time also Radzi, one of the malay students who was studying silat with us infected us with the 'Kuch-kuch hota hei' bug and got everyone, even the usually reserved Hussain, who was our oldest student and a highly regarded leader in his community humming and dancing to the tune. I was thrilled as, at last, there is someone to speak malay to and share 'girlie stories' with. She was not only a great companion in the kitchen but her delicious currypuffs and kuah kacang were definitely a refreshing change from my boring repertoire of dishes. Four months into the courtship accompanied by the virulent humming and group dancing of 'Kuch-kuch hota hei' by TGA boys and elder-lies alike, came the phone call again, "I'm ready, Cikgu," said Lateef sheepishly, and being clueless yet again, we asked, "Ready for what?" "For marriage..." came the answer.

So, with that, on Aimen's birthday in June, they wedded TGA style...we did everything ourselves, the pelamin, the bunga manggar, the wedding cake, cooked and performed silat for about 100 guests. In the words of the iconic Obama, "...it was a day of smiles and thanks, of decorum and pageantry...". We even flew my mom in to help with the decorations and cooking.

Tipah's presence certainly brought joy and bliss to the traditionally all-male 'fart'-inity...I loved and cherished the weekends the most as they'd spend theirs with us cooking outside, barbequing and babysitting the kids while we went out grocery shopping.

When Tipah graduated and it was time for them to head home to Malaysia, I desperately fought back the tears and swallowed the lumps in my throat when we bade them farewell at Newark Airport, not knowing when we'll see them again. I missed them dreadfully. It was the sort of drubbing that awakens you to the fact that life is not obliged to work out as you'd planned. The barbeques, the cook outs, the weekends were never the same again without them. Then came the dreadful 9-11 which devastated not only the lives of innocent Americans but also took with it the blood, sweat, tears that went into building TGA. It was certainly an incident that forever changed the landscape of TGA. Forced to 'cease and desist' as we were an Islamic establishment, we decided to return to our homeland, Malaysia. The only consolation in going home, of course, is reuniting with our families and friends and of course be closer to Lateef and Tipah in Malaysia. We chose Penang as our residence as we had about 8 of our students and thought that Penang would be idyllic as a setting for TGA Penang Chapter.

After spending six long years in Penang and establishing a tuition center, we decided to move to Lateef's neighbourhood and closer to my aunts and uncles in Bangi. Maryam, who is Lateef and Tipah's oldest daughter was the first to enrol into our new establishment in Bukit mahkota. Now, we live within five minutes of each other. It's amusing as it used to take them four to five hours to drive to Penang for lunch, now they're at the door before we can put the phone down!! I still can't get over the fact that we now have them as our neighbours! Allah SWT is certainly the best of planners and never in a million years would I imagine that we'd be playing the role as Maryam's care-giver, given the tumultuous years preceding 9-11 and the difficulty of re-setting up TGA and adjusting to Malaysian idiosyncrasies after being away for far too long.

Nevertheless, as I held Maryam's hand after picking her up from school on her first day of school, I was beaming with pride and overwhelmed with joy to see her growing into such a pretty little girl. Looking so smart in her pinafore, she took her responsibility as a first grader in stride, shrugged her shoulders and nonchalantly passed off the first day of school as 'no biggie'. Both Lateef and Tipah have definitely raised her wonderfully, making our job such a pleasure when we have a student like her.

Happy, happy birthday, dear neighbour Tipah. You've certainly been blessed with an exemplary husband and two beautiful children. May the light of Islam continue to illuminate your life and may all your dreams and wishes come true...

Caretaker of many, mother of none...

 

This blog is in response to Anedra's (read her blog via my blog roll) naming me as mother of the year. Thanks, sweetie, I'm really flattered. It brought me back of course to the days in Paulsboro. At that time, almost 10 years of being childless, I would, without fail, routinely make doa after solat "Oh, Allah, grant me a progeny..." but, this one particular day, before I could 'Amin' my dua, Aimen came in with a big smirk on his face, saying, 'Allah has already answered your dua!' 'What?', I asked. 'Look out the window', he said, trying to muffle a laugh. 'OH NOOO!!, I shrieked, 'send them back, tell them nobody's home!!' Such was the case everytime I make doa for a child, Allah would send one or two at the door, sometimes with a trash bag in hand, carrying all they had...

Anyway, when I looked out the window, I see these overgrown men with bee-hive hair and gold medallions around their necks. 'But these are grown men', I gasped, 'They can't stay with us,' I pleaded. But of course, Aimen was already up to the challenge and before I could plead some more, he gave me their background. What looked like grown men were actually two brothers, aged 16 and 18, whose meal came from snacks or whatever they can steal from grocery stores.

Playing mom to these kids was not easy. Imagine a 16 year-old, bigger than my husband, complaining he has a wart on his 'thingy' and wanted me to put something on it!! Then there were those between 6-17 who still wet their beds. So, I was preoccupied with making sure they pee before going to bed, then around 3am, make sure they go again...Some of them were so traumatised that they literally had to bang their heads against the wall before falling asleep.

Needless to say that their hygiene left much to be desired...So once a week when we hose the 'Little Muslim Bus' we would round all of them up and hose them down as well...

Now, of course I enjoy playing mom to Syajie. He's so adorable and sweet. I thank Allah for allowing me to care for these children as it certainly justified my existence on this earth...

Now, these below are whom I believe should bag the Mom Of The Year award...

1. My Mak Ngah - Anedra's mom who supported me during my darkest, bleakest days...I remember when I was registering as a freshman in UKM, all the new students came with an entourage whilst I had to fend for myself. I sat down at the stairs and balked my eyes off and when I called her, she told me to stop crying, be strong and do what I had to do. Or during the times when I had 50 cents left to my name, she would make me a meal fit for a king with all my favourite dishes...

2. My mom - who has been through so much. She's truly a steel magnolia.

3. My grandma - who raised such wonderful aunts and uncles. Can't imagine life without them...

The Little Muslim Bus

 

In America, school buses exceeding thirteen years of service are condemned and no longer allowed for public school use. But, as a private entity, we are allowed to use the bus but had to change the colour. A few minutes from where we lived in Paulsboro, was a yard where these condemned buses awaits prospective buyers. At that time, all we had was a seven seater van and about twenty students, so out of necessity, we went to the yard and before long were the proud owners of a mini school bus for a mere USD 500. Changing the colour of the bus proved to be a financial challenge at that time, so off to my favourite haunt "Walmart" to look for solutions. Armed with a spray paint nozzle, masks and cans of "army green" paint, Aimen went to work and single-handedly spray painted the entire bus. The kids loved the bus. Since it was green, they nicknamed it "The Little Muslim Bus".

The stalwart bus certainly did its part in reforming our kids. It bussed them to different masjids crossing numerous state lines for Friday prayers, it took them to faraway places like Connecticut, Catskill-upstate New York, Atlantic City, Virginia, Pennsylvania and fun places like Six Flags Theme Park and the beach. Apart from that, it also dutifully ferried them to silat demos to prestigious universities like John Hopkins and George Washington.

The bus hardly gave us any problems but one weekend, we came out of "Walmart" really late and the bus stalled and won't budge. Aqil, one of the kid's dad came in his little beady car to bail us out but ohhhhhhh, it would take him all night to ferry all 15 of us back and forth to Paulsboro. The kids were getting restless, so we did what we always do in times like that - zikir...a few kick starts later, the bus came alive, much to all our delight, and took us all the way home.

I missed that bus. It certainly outdid itself, given its age. Sadly, when we decided to go home for good, we had to sell it. I hope that the new owner would appreciate and take care our beloved little Muslim Bus...