Monday, December 04, 2006
LIFE - Mind Of A Mankind - Chapter Eight
SEARCHING FOR HOME
Having lived my life as a fugitive,
I understood what is a home.
Zulkifli Mahmood (Joe)
(20th August 1992 to 29th December 1995 - Indonesia)
I felt uncomfortable living for a long duration in someone elses home and I did not wish to burden Cak Pur's family further with my problems. Furthermore, the villagers seemed to look at Yani and I in askance because to them I looked like a foreign Chinese or Japanese national. Some of them thought that I was from Hong Kong and some of them thought that I was from Japan. I was not working and they were probably wondering that I had so much cash. I did not want to be so conspicuous because that would only attract more crowds to our presence. So, I told Yani that we needed to find a place to settle down and see what we could do for ourselves for a livelihood.
We left Cak Pur's and Mbak Rani's house, informing them that we would be back again after we toured Java and we would let them know of our address should we decide to settle down somewhere permanently. Our motive was to leave them without any knowledge of our whereabouts because though they were kind and honest people, we could not take that risk, just in case people started to query about us. When we left their house, in my mind, I somehow knew that Busu would be coming along with us, wherever we intended to go. He was supposed to guide and protect us as to what my own mother had said. I believed her and I trusted Busu.
We went to many places in Sumatra, Batam, Java, Bali and Lombok. As we travelled, we looked for suitable places that we would like to settle down. It was also a good exposure and experience for me to know more about Indonesia, since I was going to be like an Indonesian. In that period of time, when we moved without any fixed destination, I was also contemplating and reviewing about my past mistakes. Looking at it always and I knew I was irresponsible for the things I had done to Noorasmah, my family, my friends and others. I had felt guilty conscience and how I wished I could rectify my life all over again. I told myself probably I needed more time and see where destiny led me.
We met many local Indonesian who were wondering about us. Some of them thought that I was Yani's elder brother and some even thought that I was Yani's father. Yani on the other hand was also afraid of people who looked at me like a foreigner and she would always make the point that I did not speak too much to strangers. My Indonesian accent was still ineffective to insinuate that I was an Indonesian man for us to travel incognito. She was also afraid of my insincerity of making her my wife and she asked me many times about my reason of marrying her in the first place. I knew she felt insecured and I also knew that she would actually love to have a wedding celebration to be a grander occasion. We were married in a surreptitious manner and there were only a few people present, which we did not know, were witnesses for our solemnisation. Her family and my family were not present. After the wedding ceremony, Cak Pur, Mbak Rani and us, we had lunched in a small restaurant. Then we went back home to their house. Rani was also uncertain about our future because we were like drifters, moving from one place to another, one hotel to another hotel, passing our time together wondering and chit-chatting about our next destination.
Sumatra did not offer the kind of environment that I wish I could have like in Singapore. The Malays there were unlike the Malays in Singapore or Malaysia. They looked at me like a foreigner too. Maybe because of my appearance, which was to them unusual. It was like a misfits for them for in Indonesia, back then perhaps, it was very rare for a Chinese to marry outside their own race. Later after touring Java, I felt Java was also not suitable for our new life because I felt out of place. The East Javanese mainly spoke in Javanese, which I found hard for me to accept and adapt. Furthermore, I felt we were not really being looked like Indonesian domestic travellers too and I felt unsafe. It was at Banyuwangi, a small town located at the east edge of East Java, in a small hotel called Hotel Baru; I told Yani that probably our new life would be in Bali. It was only a hunched but deep inside me something was telling me to go for Bali. Was it Busu? I would not know. The small town of Banyuwangi was located just oppositely facing the island of Bali, about five or seven kilometres away and we needed to cross to Bali by ferry, which would take about thirty minutes. It was just like crossing from Singapore to Johor Baru, West Malaysia.
We reached Bali in the early hours in late October 1992. We toured Bali and then Lombok. I felt Bali offered a better place to settle down. We felt saved because the Balinese were busy in their business dealings with the numerous foreign tourists that visited their lovely island of paradise and our presence there did not attract their attention so much, unlike in Java or Sumatra. They looked at us and thought that we were from Jakarta or Surabaya.
We giggled quietly within, when I told them a white-lie that I was from Batam Island in Riau Province of Sumatra. And the best thing about it was, most Balinese and others did not know much about that province for they seldom went out from their beautiful island to tour Bintan or Batam island, which were located quite near to Singapore Island too. My Indonesian accent for the Balinese was stranged too but they accepted my explanation that my local Malay language was similar to Malay ethnic from Singapore or Malaysia. I could tell them about Batam's progressive and advance joint-trade and industrial development (SIJORI) with Singapore, Johor and Indonesia. They believed me because I could narrate to them the life in Batam, Singapore and Malaysia. I lied to them that I had oftenly visited Singapore and Malaysia because it was so near and most people living in Batam were influenced by the Singaporean's and Malaysian-Johorian's attitude of business and money making. The Balinese and those other ethnics that were living in Bali, just loved to listen to my story about those places they had never seen before and wished they had.
We felt Bali was like another country and not Indonesia. The main tourist's district, Kuta, gave us the impression that we were in Australia or Hawaii. I loved the island ambience, especially, the mountain resorts and the beaches. Finally, we settled down permanently in late December 1992. We leased a house in Kuta and Bali became our Home. Amen.
I would love to write more about the travelling experiences and the places we went in Batam, Sumatra, Java, Lombok and how we felt upon reaching Bali, the places we went to, whom we had met and what we did in Bali; but that would take up many pages in this book. So, I am going to write about two occasions whereby it involved dealing with Busu. We knew somehow another that Busu was with us, the only thing was that we could not see him. We assumed that he was always near us. He was like our unseen guardian angel.
One late evening, we took a 'Dirman' (The Javanese Traditional Horse Carriage) ride in Kuta. While sitting in that carriage, the horse acted strangely as though something or someone was disturbing it. The Javanese man who had reigned the horse remarked to us that the horse never behaved in that manner before. Yani and I smiled at each other and laughed, assuming that Busu was probably the culprit and perhaps he was riding on the horse's back instead of in the carriage with us.
After we had decided to settle down in Bali, we went around Kuta, Sanur, Nusa Dua and Denpasar districts in searched of leasing a house for ourselves, but we could not find a suitable place that we really like partly because the house rents were too expensive or the area were not to our desired taste. So, one night, before I went to sleep, I whispered something to Busu like this, "Busu, if you can find a house for us that will be good. Please help me and try to look for that house that we like and maybe you can ask around or ask your friends in your world about it," That night, in my dream, I saw a nice looking white house near the beach, which was to my liking. Then after seeing that house in my dream, I distinctly heard a male voice telling me this, "You must give offering in a small raft and send it out to the open sea." Then I saw a large white horse wildly standing up kicking its front hoofs upon me. I immediately woke up and simultaneously I had actually pushed Yani who was on top of me. She fell down from the bed. She was trying to arouse me, while I was asleep and dreaming. In that dream I had pushed both of my hands forward to protect myself from that ferocious white horse from attacking me. I told Yani about my dream.
Yani, being superstitious, enquired about the meaning of my dream with the hotel receptionist. She was a Balinese and she told Yani that the spirit wished an offering from me. If I refused, maybe I would face bad luck. So, she quickly asked for a coin from me, went out from the hotel to go to Kuta beach and threw out that coin to the open sea. I did not follow her and I was puzzled with her request for a coin.
Later, when she had returned to the hotel, she explained to me about her unusual requests for a coin and what she had done with it. She had made an offering to the spirit on my behalf.
A few days later, we found a small terrace white house and it was quite near the beach. I immediately felt comfortable with that house upon viewing it. The area gave a sense of peacefulness within me. We sealed the deal with the owner right on the spot.
The Balinese worship and present offerings to the evil spirits and the good spirits. It is within their belief that such religious ritual would prevent and protect them from the evil spirits mischievous actions and the good spirits would render them with good fortunes.
In the past, I had believed in superstition too. While I was in Java, I had bought a book on superstitious beliefs of the Javanese. So, after that dream, I had turned to the dream section in that book. It stated that if I dream about a white horse in that wild manner, it meant that I was going to be lifted up from facing difficulties on hand.
Now, this is a post script addition to this book. When I went back to Bali again with Noorasmah on 16th May 2004, I went to Kuta beach. I took out a coin, silently I offered a prayer and offering to that spirit that had spoken to me in my dream. Facing the open sea, I closed my eyes, felt the coin in my right hand, I whispered to him, "Please let me complete my offering to you and I prayed for your soul happiness. Thank you for your help." I opened my eyes and with all the strength that I had, I threw the coin as far as I could. The sun shine was lovely that afternoon and I felt the warmth of love and happiness within my heart, and I saw the morning glory of Life.
Noorasmah asked me what I was doing. I told her that it was something that I should have done a long time ago. And now I had done it. We walked the shores of Kuta beach happily and Noorasmah was falling in love with Bali.
Having lived my life as a fugitive,
I understood what is a home.
Zulkifli Mahmood (Joe)
(20th August 1992 to 29th December 1995 - Indonesia)
I felt uncomfortable living for a long duration in someone elses home and I did not wish to burden Cak Pur's family further with my problems. Furthermore, the villagers seemed to look at Yani and I in askance because to them I looked like a foreign Chinese or Japanese national. Some of them thought that I was from Hong Kong and some of them thought that I was from Japan. I was not working and they were probably wondering that I had so much cash. I did not want to be so conspicuous because that would only attract more crowds to our presence. So, I told Yani that we needed to find a place to settle down and see what we could do for ourselves for a livelihood.
We left Cak Pur's and Mbak Rani's house, informing them that we would be back again after we toured Java and we would let them know of our address should we decide to settle down somewhere permanently. Our motive was to leave them without any knowledge of our whereabouts because though they were kind and honest people, we could not take that risk, just in case people started to query about us. When we left their house, in my mind, I somehow knew that Busu would be coming along with us, wherever we intended to go. He was supposed to guide and protect us as to what my own mother had said. I believed her and I trusted Busu.
We went to many places in Sumatra, Batam, Java, Bali and Lombok. As we travelled, we looked for suitable places that we would like to settle down. It was also a good exposure and experience for me to know more about Indonesia, since I was going to be like an Indonesian. In that period of time, when we moved without any fixed destination, I was also contemplating and reviewing about my past mistakes. Looking at it always and I knew I was irresponsible for the things I had done to Noorasmah, my family, my friends and others. I had felt guilty conscience and how I wished I could rectify my life all over again. I told myself probably I needed more time and see where destiny led me.
We met many local Indonesian who were wondering about us. Some of them thought that I was Yani's elder brother and some even thought that I was Yani's father. Yani on the other hand was also afraid of people who looked at me like a foreigner and she would always make the point that I did not speak too much to strangers. My Indonesian accent was still ineffective to insinuate that I was an Indonesian man for us to travel incognito. She was also afraid of my insincerity of making her my wife and she asked me many times about my reason of marrying her in the first place. I knew she felt insecured and I also knew that she would actually love to have a wedding celebration to be a grander occasion. We were married in a surreptitious manner and there were only a few people present, which we did not know, were witnesses for our solemnisation. Her family and my family were not present. After the wedding ceremony, Cak Pur, Mbak Rani and us, we had lunched in a small restaurant. Then we went back home to their house. Rani was also uncertain about our future because we were like drifters, moving from one place to another, one hotel to another hotel, passing our time together wondering and chit-chatting about our next destination.
Sumatra did not offer the kind of environment that I wish I could have like in Singapore. The Malays there were unlike the Malays in Singapore or Malaysia. They looked at me like a foreigner too. Maybe because of my appearance, which was to them unusual. It was like a misfits for them for in Indonesia, back then perhaps, it was very rare for a Chinese to marry outside their own race. Later after touring Java, I felt Java was also not suitable for our new life because I felt out of place. The East Javanese mainly spoke in Javanese, which I found hard for me to accept and adapt. Furthermore, I felt we were not really being looked like Indonesian domestic travellers too and I felt unsafe. It was at Banyuwangi, a small town located at the east edge of East Java, in a small hotel called Hotel Baru; I told Yani that probably our new life would be in Bali. It was only a hunched but deep inside me something was telling me to go for Bali. Was it Busu? I would not know. The small town of Banyuwangi was located just oppositely facing the island of Bali, about five or seven kilometres away and we needed to cross to Bali by ferry, which would take about thirty minutes. It was just like crossing from Singapore to Johor Baru, West Malaysia.
We reached Bali in the early hours in late October 1992. We toured Bali and then Lombok. I felt Bali offered a better place to settle down. We felt saved because the Balinese were busy in their business dealings with the numerous foreign tourists that visited their lovely island of paradise and our presence there did not attract their attention so much, unlike in Java or Sumatra. They looked at us and thought that we were from Jakarta or Surabaya.
We giggled quietly within, when I told them a white-lie that I was from Batam Island in Riau Province of Sumatra. And the best thing about it was, most Balinese and others did not know much about that province for they seldom went out from their beautiful island to tour Bintan or Batam island, which were located quite near to Singapore Island too. My Indonesian accent for the Balinese was stranged too but they accepted my explanation that my local Malay language was similar to Malay ethnic from Singapore or Malaysia. I could tell them about Batam's progressive and advance joint-trade and industrial development (SIJORI) with Singapore, Johor and Indonesia. They believed me because I could narrate to them the life in Batam, Singapore and Malaysia. I lied to them that I had oftenly visited Singapore and Malaysia because it was so near and most people living in Batam were influenced by the Singaporean's and Malaysian-Johorian's attitude of business and money making. The Balinese and those other ethnics that were living in Bali, just loved to listen to my story about those places they had never seen before and wished they had.
We felt Bali was like another country and not Indonesia. The main tourist's district, Kuta, gave us the impression that we were in Australia or Hawaii. I loved the island ambience, especially, the mountain resorts and the beaches. Finally, we settled down permanently in late December 1992. We leased a house in Kuta and Bali became our Home. Amen.
I would love to write more about the travelling experiences and the places we went in Batam, Sumatra, Java, Lombok and how we felt upon reaching Bali, the places we went to, whom we had met and what we did in Bali; but that would take up many pages in this book. So, I am going to write about two occasions whereby it involved dealing with Busu. We knew somehow another that Busu was with us, the only thing was that we could not see him. We assumed that he was always near us. He was like our unseen guardian angel.
One late evening, we took a 'Dirman' (The Javanese Traditional Horse Carriage) ride in Kuta. While sitting in that carriage, the horse acted strangely as though something or someone was disturbing it. The Javanese man who had reigned the horse remarked to us that the horse never behaved in that manner before. Yani and I smiled at each other and laughed, assuming that Busu was probably the culprit and perhaps he was riding on the horse's back instead of in the carriage with us.
After we had decided to settle down in Bali, we went around Kuta, Sanur, Nusa Dua and Denpasar districts in searched of leasing a house for ourselves, but we could not find a suitable place that we really like partly because the house rents were too expensive or the area were not to our desired taste. So, one night, before I went to sleep, I whispered something to Busu like this, "Busu, if you can find a house for us that will be good. Please help me and try to look for that house that we like and maybe you can ask around or ask your friends in your world about it," That night, in my dream, I saw a nice looking white house near the beach, which was to my liking. Then after seeing that house in my dream, I distinctly heard a male voice telling me this, "You must give offering in a small raft and send it out to the open sea." Then I saw a large white horse wildly standing up kicking its front hoofs upon me. I immediately woke up and simultaneously I had actually pushed Yani who was on top of me. She fell down from the bed. She was trying to arouse me, while I was asleep and dreaming. In that dream I had pushed both of my hands forward to protect myself from that ferocious white horse from attacking me. I told Yani about my dream.
Yani, being superstitious, enquired about the meaning of my dream with the hotel receptionist. She was a Balinese and she told Yani that the spirit wished an offering from me. If I refused, maybe I would face bad luck. So, she quickly asked for a coin from me, went out from the hotel to go to Kuta beach and threw out that coin to the open sea. I did not follow her and I was puzzled with her request for a coin.
Later, when she had returned to the hotel, she explained to me about her unusual requests for a coin and what she had done with it. She had made an offering to the spirit on my behalf.
A few days later, we found a small terrace white house and it was quite near the beach. I immediately felt comfortable with that house upon viewing it. The area gave a sense of peacefulness within me. We sealed the deal with the owner right on the spot.
The Balinese worship and present offerings to the evil spirits and the good spirits. It is within their belief that such religious ritual would prevent and protect them from the evil spirits mischievous actions and the good spirits would render them with good fortunes.
In the past, I had believed in superstition too. While I was in Java, I had bought a book on superstitious beliefs of the Javanese. So, after that dream, I had turned to the dream section in that book. It stated that if I dream about a white horse in that wild manner, it meant that I was going to be lifted up from facing difficulties on hand.
Now, this is a post script addition to this book. When I went back to Bali again with Noorasmah on 16th May 2004, I went to Kuta beach. I took out a coin, silently I offered a prayer and offering to that spirit that had spoken to me in my dream. Facing the open sea, I closed my eyes, felt the coin in my right hand, I whispered to him, "Please let me complete my offering to you and I prayed for your soul happiness. Thank you for your help." I opened my eyes and with all the strength that I had, I threw the coin as far as I could. The sun shine was lovely that afternoon and I felt the warmth of love and happiness within my heart, and I saw the morning glory of Life.
Noorasmah asked me what I was doing. I told her that it was something that I should have done a long time ago. And now I had done it. We walked the shores of Kuta beach happily and Noorasmah was falling in love with Bali.
# posted by Zulkifli @ 7:40 PM 
