Recapping The Unpleasant Moments

It was in June 1996 when we went to several of Wali Songo's graves but one I could remember well was atop Gunung Muria.

There's an army personnel guarding the donation box.
Not thinking of any adverse, we were about to push in the rupiah notes into the slot when swifly the army man swung out his loaded arm, placed it before the slot, for the money to be placed just on top of the box.

There's heapful of rupiah notes on the box - I was astonished seeing him sweeping the money with his loaded arm to his direction and into his trousers' pocket.
Local visitors did not bat their eyelids seeing such horrific incident but the army personnel's violation of trust trusted onto his sholuder really question my innerself of our sincere wish in seeing our neighbours a no pauper on their own land.

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We were visiting a kiyai (or was it an ustaz, not very sure) of one of the local pondoks (or was it pesantren, not very sure too) in Central Java. His wife changed into several kebayas for photo sessions with us.

Whenever her outfits changed, so did her genuine gemstone accessories, to complement her outlook.

Did she 'transform' herself into a model out of respect for her visitors? To convince us that Indonesians too are loaded people themselves?
Anyway, from that day onwards, no more donation was ever forwarded from us.

Even as were heading to another 'kabupaten', we were being sent off by another pesantren's girl students with their fingers manicured and painted. When asked why they did as such, their reply was, "Enggak apa-apa, Bu."       

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Cruel as it may be seen, even our frequent donation to one of the orphange in Batam was stopped too.

When money start to trinkle in, so does the number of family members.
Where once it was meant for the orphans and poor, it now covers not only the home's operator and his immediate family, but his step children and their families wanted their voices to be heard, too.

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***From feedback, ordinary citizens in Tanjung Pinang and Batam felt the sincerity in the current government. They are feeling and seeing the positivity.
My sincere hope is, such personnel at Gunung Muria had returned monies not rightfully his and the likings of the religious leader's wife had been ticked off by the husband.

The Haj Story - Naivety And Realisation

Indescribable - The exact word to describe the fragile, elderly woman whom I saw in Prophet's Mosque - Masjid Nabawi.

With layers of tattered, dirty clothings to keep her warm in the chilling weather of Madinah, impossible for her bony legs to support her body. She leaned against one of the many pillars, sitting on the kerb, her skinny right hand holding a long pole made from a cut-out tree branch.

Never in my life did I ever see a person with hollow nose from the bridge downwards.
With very charcoally-like skin, she's 'The Most Outstanding Human Being' in the midst of thousands of congregations who had just finished performing their prayers.
I wondered how she's able to reach deep inside the vast mosque.

I asked my then 12 year old Girl for some money to give to the imperfect soul.
She refused to hand over - I told her I'll return the amount immediately when I get from her Dad - She insisted my sister gave her the loose change for buying ice-cream.
Ice-cream only!

When The Dad finally arrived and I had money in hand, the soul that pricked my heart was no longer there!!!
How could that be???
Even if she was to walk away, impossible for her to be totally out of sight when able-bodied worshipers had to move slowly with the crowd.
It's just a matter of few minutes!
We looked around but the lost soul was no where to be found.

My Girl realised her wrongdoing.
She said her sorry and was reaching for her loose-change purse which was always in the sling-bag.
She realised it was not there.
Thinking it was left in the hotel room, although we doubt so, we did a fruitless search.

The incident left a deep regret in her.
But being just 12, she treasured her 2 weeks supply of ice-cream money which was close to SR100.
Of course Dad paid up for her naivety.

For a week we looked out for the indescribable woman and we asked around, but it bore no answer.

Years had passed.
After another few more visits to the same place, not the same incident happened again but more memorable episodes followed...