Canberra/ Sydney

On money

I get asked sometimes what studying in Oz is like.

Well frankly, it has its ups and downs.

You get good quality education, a change in scenery. A chance to practice English?

But then you're still a student, and money is always a top concern, so it's not all jetsetting and globetrotting all the time.

It's like this.

Everything seems fine and cosy when your bank balance has a comfortable number of digits in them. That camera looks affordable, and new. That jacket looks reasonable, and new. That barbeque pit looks practical, and new.

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and the lean days of baked beans and cheap store brand flavourless plain milk soon arrive, and very certainly sooner.

You protest, I see, and shout, 'but mlh, such is the plight of students everywhere!
Thus is a fallacy for you to claim that what you have described as being a purely Australian experience'

Ah, I might be inclined to agree but for the fact that should your bodily self remain within the borders of the land that you share with your parents, it becomes less of an issue.

For what parent would let a child starve?

You see, a different country involves
a different currency that may be double or triple the value of your home currency.

Imagine the costs your benefactors incur. That is a sobering thought. Even you would understand their position despite your situation, and why they seem unwilling to send even more money to you, despite your willingness to receive.

Within reason of course. one can only live for so long on canned beans.

As you can see in this regard, studying domestically trumps studying overseas .

Unless you're poor.

Then you're pretty much screwed no matter where you are.

Should anyone ask, students exist in a totally distinct category from migrant workers.

Australia only allows us in because we are students.

We should honour that classification.

I would rather be sleeping

It's 4-ish in Melbourne, the Sun at just the right angle for a warm and cozy afternoon nap. The boys are out for football, and the house is silent save for the dryer's whir. A nap at this moment of time would be soooo beautiful but I must resist the urge. I need all the sleep for tonight. I don't want to spend the entire flight tomorrow sleeping only to land in KL refreshed at rested at 10.00 pm.

Yes I go to bed early. I'm a good boy.

So let's blog.

Sindrom Kaki Kental

As proof that I still think in Malay, the subtitle of today's blog is in Malay, roughly translated as Hard Leg Syndrome.

Not a real disease but rather one that strikes newcomers to Melbourne rather suddenly, particularly if they have been too used to the use of only one leg (the one depressing the accelerator) where they originally came from.

I have had the good fortune these past two weeks of having visitors from Malaysia who visited me in my humble dwelling, far away here in North Melbourne. In remembrance of their visit, I offer this semi-fictionalised travelogue of a visitor to Melbourne.


Day 1

Finally arrived in Melbourne after 8 long hours in the plane, surrounded by boorish passengers and inattentive attendants. From the plane window, I see that is already dark outside. Not much of a surprise there, since the clock on the display in front of me says the local time is 8.30pm. I wonder if Lutfi has already had dinner. I wonder what do they eat here in Australia. Steaks? Kangaroo meat? Can't wait for my first Australian meal. Yum Yum!

2 hours later

I have never felt as humiliated. Who do these customs people think I am? A runner for Al-Qaeda? Imagine all that fuss over a bottle of Kicap Manis Cap Kipas Udang? What did they think I am going to do with that? Condiment the Parliament house to its destruction? What nonsense!

Apparently Lutfi can't meet me at the airport tonight. He said something about having an exam tomorrow. It's ok, I suppose. After all, he's already given me directions to his house. Now all I need to do is to find that Sky Bus platform.

1 hour 45 minutes later

Why don't the trams announce the stops here in Melbourne? Did they think everyone has complete knowledge of Melbourne at their fingertips? Its a good thing I met that old English guy. He was the one who told me where to get off, and which tram I was supposed to be on.

Anyway, I'm already at Lutfi's place, and it's a studio flat. With no rooms. There's only one single bed in the room/house, but I see some sleeping bags lying about. I wonder if he wants us to sleep in those things.

This is really not how I expected this vacation to start. Hmm.

Oh, and do you know what we had for dinner? Telur bungkus. With rice.

Tomorrow perhaps.

Day 2

It's been one long day. This is starting to look like one tiring holiday. Turns out that Lutfi doesn't have a car, and he does all his travelling on foot. And that is how we went about Melbourne. On foot.

My feet are sore from the hours of walking. I don't think I've walked this much since ... ever. How I miss my car.

But we did cover a lot of ground today, sightseeing in the 'CBD', the museums, waterfront etc.
I would've have forced in some shopping but by the time we were walking back from the docklands all the shops were already closed. At 6.00 pm. Some 'vibrant' city.

Oh and do you know what we had for dinner just now? Mee Goreng with Sambal on the side.

Sigh.


Day 3

I honestly have no idea what this trip is turning out to be. I've just returned from a kuliah in a mosque in one of the suburbs. Now who goes to a ceramah during their holiday? I better have a word with Lutfi before he starts going all preachy on us.

Otherwise, it was interesting meeting all the locals there. Kaki masjids who wear winter coats and sporting Aussie accents. And plenty of pizzas after the ceramah. Lutfi says that's what the locals like to eat. Erm, I sure hope that that's not the end of my association with native Australians. I mean, this is so far removed from Bondi Beach.

Did I mention, we had pizza? Boxes and boxes of them, brother. Ma sha allah.

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Day 10

Phew, It's been sometime since I've put down anything in this travelogue. All this travelling business wears me out. And all the eating. Allahuakbar. It's like a kenduri everyday. Rendang, Bihun, Kari, Spaghetti (!), Pizza, Kebab. I will seriously need to diet once I get back to KL.

And do you know where I've been this past few days?
I was blowing didgeridoos in the market (and parted with $95 as a result). I visited an Islamic school in one of the outer suburbs, just because we thought it would be 'enlightening' to do so. I was live on air at a local radio station, reading news, "Ringkasan Berita Sukan Dari Tanahair", not once but twice. I chatted with KL old-timers who recounted the days when gangs ruled KL, and met with 'mozzies' who I would want to meet again ;P.

My legs too are so hard now from all the walking, that a 3 hour trek feels like nothing. I can now walk round the city for hours without feeling too out of breath. Not very Australian yet, but getting there.

Also it turns out that sleeping bags are very comfortable to be in all day long in winter. I wonder if mom would let me wear one in Malaysia.

Gotta sleep now. Having a barbie tomorrow. I'm in charge of the sidedishes, so must wake up early.


Day 14

Alas, the time has come to leave Melbourne.

It turns out, Lutfi didn't forget that we were tourists. Finally he indulged us in touristy stuff. That is a trip to the mountains and to the beaches and to the islands. Saw kangaroos, koalas that sort of thing. Interesting, but so very normal for a tourist.

I wished that we could do more of the odd stuff. More of the real things real people do in Melbourne. Met more people. Visited more houses. Window-shopped more. Ate more food. Seriously, I think I've gained at least 5kgs since arriving. But it's all good alhamdulillah. All that malay,turkish, lebanese, hyderabadi cuisine was really a break from all the junk food I usually feed on.

Sadly its time to leave. Two weeks have come and gone. And as the plane takes off and landscape starts to shrink, I think back to all the memories I take home with me. Who knew Melbourne could be that interesting?

So will I come again? Insha allah, brother. In sha allah.


End

Melayu-melayu Melbourne

The accent was spot-on. The right inflections in the right places. A drawl certainly belonging to an Australian tongue. Except it was not.
The only give away, was perhaps the brown skin and beady eyes; 40 years abroad has transformed the Malay youth to an Aussie elder. Too long away from Malaysia, to know what it means to be Malaysian today.

That man was only one of many individuals I met, Malays separated from Malay-land. 10,20,30 years, trying their best to make this foreign land home.

A frequent lament is heard, "The young know not their roots". Their children, having spent all their lives here grow up different from their parents. Excepting the staunchest Malayphile, these children of working-families converse, think and live Australian, though being Muslim (coupled with the Malays' strong sense of tradition) differs them to a certain degree from the larger population.

The elders pine for their kampungs and picturesque paddy fields, and thirsty for a conversation in Malay, insist on instilling the young with what they remembered to be Malay culture. But in this age of mp3s and torrents, few respond . Its difficult enough to fit in when you already look different, what more if you behaved differently.

Now and then they gather, offering the outsider an impression of their community. They leave their houses to throw a riot, Makciks in tudungs yelling at the top of their lungs, pretty young things preening in one corner, everyone trying their best to have a good time before the restaurant kicks them out the door. When the music ends,they return to their houses in the suburbs, far apart from each other, already awaiting the next meeting.

Some will inevitably ask me, why the interest in Australian Malays? Why not? They are a living breathing community here in Australia, and most certainly the most similar to the Malay student community. It would not hurt to learn more about them, in fact IMHO, it would be of benefit to us students.
They themselves would be delighted, because masih ada yang sayang. Not everyone can afford that plane ticket back to KL.
But perhaps also because, like the gentleman mentioned at the start of the article said to me, "You can never say you will never return to Malaysia, and you can never say you will never stay in Australia"

3 Days of Biryani

This is not a ‘blog dakwah’. My blog is about subjects that interest me, which may include but is certainly not limited to muslim issues and Islam. Even then, I prefer my discourses on Islam to be intellectual and of a sober nature. As such, you’ll find, in this blog, few references to anyone’s personal experiences, their level of iman nor even, Muslims’ the world over all time favourite, “How I Came To Islam” tales.

However, I cannot but state that the past few days as anything else than an iman ‘high’.

There goes my first paragraph.

Describing the first Annual Australian Islamic Conference is difficult. It dealt with real-world issues and concerns, yet at the same time many hearts were touched. Controversies accompanied the conference but its findings stressed gentleness. Even the audience themselves; for a local conference, was overwhelmingly international. Only the biryanis perhaps have an accurate description.

However, this could be its Achilles heel. In its bid to cover as many areas conceivable, the conference could lose its focus. This may not be the case at present, when the Australian Muslim population is only few in number, but when it grows (and since these are muslims we’re speaking of, I would add; exponentially) can the impact the conference had on the delegates be replicated once the technical nature of the varied discussions increase? Or would it become of interest only to academics and dyed-in-the-wool Islamists?

Of course, I may be missing the woods for the trees here. The organizers, Mercy Mission, have after all stated that they do not intend to be a jack of all trades, but instead, a platform to facilitate projects and share resources. A DHL for Muslim organizations ,if you will, which IMHO is a wonderful and novel idea. Administrative efficiency is seldom the forte of Muslim organizations (probably due to their largely voluntary nature), but if through Mercy Mission these organizations can make their ideas work and be implemented widely by providing supply-chain services that are beyond the capacity of the organizations i.e. national advertising, technological know-how, then perhaps that exponential growth may not pose such a problem after all.

My petty concerns aside, I do feel it was a wonderful experience. It was odd initially to see the Melbourne University's Economics and Commerce Building turn into a mini Taman Melewar, but then you realize what you were observing were really the reality of Muslims. Not radical militants, certainly not assimilating apologists, but rather a colourful bunch of families who want, as Shabir Ally puts it, “maximum happiness one earth, and maximum happiness in the hereafter.”

To the speakers, Dr Jamal Badawi, Shabir Ally, Waleed Basyouni, Tawfique Chowdury, and Yvonne Ridley, I thank you for sharing your invaluable knowledge and experience with us. May it be of great benefit to all, and may you be rewarded for your service. To the organizers, I congratulate and thank you for organising a conference of such scale smoothly (albeit delayed) and successfully beating expectations. I pray that next year’s conference be far better, In Sha Allah.