Where the streets had a name

I was browsing the general fiction section at the Big Bad Wolf Sale when I saw the book. I gave a small gasp. What a serendipitous find!

I've read the 2 earlier books by Randa Abdel-Fattah (Does My Head Look Big In This? & Ten Things I Hate About Me) and have been looking for this one.

Though her books are targeted to young adults, I enjoyed reading them nonetheless. Her stories are always funny and enjoyable to read. Yet, at the same time, they deal with serious issues such as coming to grips with your identity and being a proud Muslim in a discouraging/hostile environment.

Her latest book attempts to tackle an even bigger issue: the plight of the Palestinians.

I love the novel! Hayaat, the 13-year-old heroine is a spunky character that you'll come to love and admire.

When her beloved grandmother, Sitti Zeynab, collapsed and was taken away in an ambulance, Hayaat knew that she had to do something. So, she came up with the idea to bring back a handful of soil from her grandmother's ancestral home in Jerusalem.

Hayaat enlisted the help of her best friend, Samy, to help her negotiate the various obstacles she needed to overcome to enter Jerusalem (the separation wall, the checkpoints, the curfews, the permit system, etc).

Even though their journey is only a few kilometres long and should not have taken more than 20 minutes by car, due to the obstacles mentioned above, it took hours and was fraught with danger.

Besides having a strong protagonist, the novel also offers memorable supporting characters. Samy, who "infuriates adults even without saying a word", is a standout. The others; Sitti Zeynab, Mama, Baba and Jihan (Hayaat's older sister) also contribute significantly to the novel.

I like how Randa Abdel-Fattah  interspersed the profound message of her novel with funny dialogues such as this between Hayaat and Samy:

"What if we die?"
"Eh?"
"What if we get shot?"
"I probably won't. I have my cross for protection. I can lend you one if you like. But you're a Muslim, so it might not work".

They are cute, aren't they? Do read the book if you can.

TAXI

Taken from the blurb:
TAXI brings together 58 fictional dialogues with Cairo cabbies recreated from the author's own experience of traversing the city. It takes the reader on a roller-coaster of emotions as bumpy and noisy as the city's potholed and chaotic streets.
Described as an urban sociology, an ethnography, a classic oral history - and a work of poetry in motion - TAXI tells Herculean tales of the struggle for survival and dignity among Cairo's 80,000 cab drivers. It is a wing-mirror that reflects both on modern Egypt and the human condition, plucking from the rush-hour sandstorm a feast of memories, lies, loves, hates and dreams.
TAXI was an instant bestseller in Arabic markets and has been credited with reviving an interest in reading in Egypt. This unique work explores the poignant self-reflections of members of a caste who have little in common apart from their trade.

It took me a while to really be engaged in Taxi. The 58 stories span only 245 pages. So, on average, one story is only 4 pages long. I feel that that's too short because by the time you're invested in the story, the chapter ends. You ended up feeling/wondering "That's it?!". Further, there were also some jokes, expressions and references peculiar to Egypt that I didn't get.

But I became engrossed when reading about the various misfortunes plaguing Egypt. Ordinary Egpytians struggle on a daily basis due to the rising cost of food and other commodities. Milk is considered a luxury, consumed only by the rich. A horrifying statistic disclosed that 10% of the children in Southern Egypt are mentally-retarded from malnutrition.

The hopelessness of the situation is underlined when a taxi driver lamented, "...it's impossible for anyone in Egypt to make do with his salary. Because how much are salaries? From 300 to 600 pounds and no more than that. And that's not enough. So what's the answer? Either we steal or take bribes or work all day.".

Besides stagnant wages and rising cost of living, Egyptians also grapple with:
-an ineffective a broken bureaucracy
-widespread corruption and bribery
-manufactured news broadcasted by state-owned medias
 -the dismal state of education in public schools
-the mistreatment of minorities in the society
-polluted air in the city

Reading the stories from these taxi drivers will make you understand why Egyptians revolted against their government and how the Arab Spring came to be.

Their frustration is palpable when you read remarks like this: "Frankly, the government does everything it can to turn us into beggars or criminals. You feel they're making a big effort to ruin us and our families..."

Though we Malaysians are much better off, we shouldn't feel too smug. Yes, we should be grateful that our situation is not that dire but we shouldn't feel too complacent. The list of problems stated above sounds familiar, doesn't it?

Do grab the book (published by ZI Publications) and read it as "a man's feet should be planted in his country, but his eyes should survey the world" (George Santayana).

'Twas a good day

PMR is 4 days away and since it was the last time I would enter 3N, I gave them some last-minute pointers and wished them all the best.

The pep talk somehow got a bit sentimental and as I was leaving the class, Dasshany said loudly, "I feel like crying". The unexpected outburst made the whole class laugh and I was spared from the embarrassment of shedding a few tears myself.

X X X

Then I entered 3Q. Again, I hammered home the points that I want them to remember when writing their essays. When I wanted to leave, the girls swarmed me to kiss my hand.

Nadiah asked me earnestly, " Cikgu doakan kami satu kelas tau"

I nodded my acquiescence.

Nadiah looking uncertain, double-checked, "Semuaorang tau"

"Ok"

"Semuaorang dapat 9A", Nadiah reiterated, wanting to make sure I got my supplication right.

To please her, I said loudly, " Saya doakan kesemua 27 orang kelas awak dapat 9A"

The other girls' faces lit up but Nadiah still wasn't satisfied. She corrected me, "kesemua 27 orang kelas 3 Qudus..."

I repeated my supplication to include the word 3 Qudus and at last she was happy. I felt like a groom pressured by the crowd to get the wording of the solemnization oath right (!).

X X X

Later, as I was doing some work in the staff room, Munir, Muzzammil and Aiman from 3S came to see me. These 3 boys were always trying my patience in class.

They sheepishly said, "Cikgu, kami datang nak minta maaf"

"Kenapa?"

"Sebab kitaorang banyak buat salah dengan cikgu"

I tried to repress the smirk that was forming on my face. I feigned ignorance to prolong the drama.

"Awak buat salah apa?"

They then looked guiltily at one another, signalling for the others to start.

At length, Munir started the ball rolling by saying, "Saya selalu makan gula2 dalam kelas cikgu"

I looked unimpressed. "Makan gula2 je? Lagi?"

Muzzammil added on, "Kitaorang selalu lari2 dalam kelas cikgu"

I nodded in agreement (now, we're talking!). "Anymore?"

"Kitaorang selalu tak buat kerja cikgu"
(and this one's my favourite:) "Kitaorang tak concentrate masa cikgu mengajar"

That last confession made me laugh out loud. They looked surprised and were relieved by my laughter. This proved that they do have a conscience after all! It may be partially obscured at times but still intact nonetheless :)

X X X

I had 3K for my last period. I came to class early but nobody was there. I proceeded to write the sample essay on the whiteboard first.

But even after the whole essay was finished, nobody entered the class. I ended up staying for more than 40 minutes until the final bell rang.

A few minutes later, the students came in to take their bags. Their previous lesson ran over time and nobody thought of notifying me.

They looked guiltily at the whiteboard and I overheard someone said, "Kesian Teacher"

Ram gestured to the board as if to say 'do we need to copy it?'

I shook my head and let them off. Then every single one of them came forward and kissed my hand before leaving the class.

*lump in throat* (this is 3K after all)

X X X

It is days like this which make teaching such a rewarding and meaningful job...

Consider yourselves warned

The door was broken and lay injured on the floor. On it, the culprit wrote an ominous warning/confession:

Awas bahaya
Zaman sekarang budak2 jahat

(Caution, danger; Today's kids are evil)

To would be teachers, consider yourselves warned ;)

A Close Call

My fate is etched out by Allah Almighty, if and who I will marry, what I eat, the work I find, my health, the day I will die are as He alone wants them to be. To think otherwise was to slip down, the feel the world narrowing, dreary and tight.

-The Translator (written by Leila Aboulela)-

I finally got the chance to visit F over the weekend. She was involved in a serious car accident that left her with 40 stitches. I learnt about it from facebook but the severity of the situation only hit home when I saw her just now.

It was a miracle she survived. In fact, she was literally thinking "That's it. I'm going to die" as the vehicle she was in plunged into a ravine and she was thrown out. The 4-wheel drive landed on top of her but luckily, it didn't squash her. When people arrived at the scene, she was found lying right in-between the tyres.

F said the whole ordeal was a life-changing experience. She was grateful to be alive. She cried every time people came to visit her as she had thought she would never get to see them again.

The accident also served as a wake-up call. She realised that she had had her priorities mixed up. She was too preoccupied with work that she had neglected some of the more important things in life.

F and I are both planners. We are overly reliant on our organisers and our To-Do lists but talking about the accident made us both realise that nothing is within our control.

"They plotted and planned, but We too planned, even while they perceived it not." (An-Naml, Verse 50)

Coming back to the extract at the beginning of the entry: "My fate is etched out by Allah Almighty", there are 2 more instances in the novel which deal with the same issue.

Sammar, the novel's protagonist, had found it strange that Rae's daughter had sent him a card which reads 'Get Well Soon, Dad'.

"...it was an order, and she wondered if the child was taught to believe that her father's health was in his hands, under his command"

In contrast, in Arabic, when wishing someone well, one would insert the word 'I pray'.

Another instance is when Sammar said in English 'I'm leaving on Friday' to her colleagues.

To Sammar's ears, the sentence had sounded "incomplete, untruthful without insha' Allah".

I guess this entry is to remind myself and others that Allah has complete authority over us and He is the disposer of all our affairs, lest we should forget Him in the busyness of our lives or worse, erroneously think that we are self-sufficient.

The Autobiography of Malcolm X

Malcolm X once said that, "People don't realize how a man's whole life can be changed by one book".

I wouldn't go so far as saying this book has changed my life, but it certainly has affected me greatly. Long after I had finished the book, I kept on reviewing the story in my head. Malcolm X's life story was so riveting. He was so riveting.

He truly was an exceptional orator. He had the knack of giving memorable, colourful, witty and controversial comments. And the media just lapped it up.

Once a journalist jokingly requested, "Say something startling for my column"

He duly obliged and didn't disappoint. My copy of the book is now littered with underlined sentences and highlighted passages that contain his memorable quotes.

Aside from his superior speaking skills and charismatic persona, the book made an impact on me because it is so honest and tragic.

Malcolm X told us about his difficult childhood and crime-filled youth. Before he became a Muslim, he used to be a drug addict, peddle dope and women, and commit armed robberies.

Yet, this ex-convict (who was so evil, the other convicts and the prison guards called him 'Satan') managed to turn his life around and dedicated the rest of his life to a cause that he believed in. He fought so tirelessly for his race that according to his biographer Alex Haley, he rarely put in less than an 18-hour workday.

The story of his transformation is truly extraordinary.

I was so engrossed with the book that I found myself telling anybody who would listen interesting excerpts that I had just come across. If someone so much as asked, "What's that book you're holding?", I would automatically launched into a long-winded story-telling session. Haha

But seriously, this is an amazing book. It just toppled --- to become my favourite book of all time.

X X X

The book is entitled 'The Autobiography of Malcolm X' written with the assistance of Alex Haley, not to be confused with the recently published 'Malcolm X: A Life of Reinvention' written by Manning Marable.

Ramadan 1432 Reflection

I felt so blessed during Ramadan. I particularly loved breaking fast with my family and for some unknown reasons, I generally felt more at peace. You know when you occasional suffer from bouts of sadness and anxiety? Well, those feelings were noticeably absent during Ramadan. It's just one of the many Ramadan blessings that Allah showers on His servants.

Sometimes, I used to dread going to school and assumed the demeanour of someone whose cat had just died. We're 3/4 into the academic year and enthusiasm was running low. But during Ramadan,  I noticed that I smiled more and had more spring in my step :)

The month also nudged us into a reflective and introspective mode. When we had so much food on the table during iftar and our refrigerators were stuffed with leftover food, our thoughts inevitably turned to our less fortunate brothers and sisters in Somalia, Libya and Syria. We coasted through Ramadan while they had to face famine, civil war and violent government crackdowns.

At the end of the day, (to quote my friend Najib) Ramadan was an intensive training session. Now it's time to put the effect of the training into practice.

Oh, before I sign off, I would like to share this email from ProductiveMuslim. They sent daily emails to subscribers urging people to be productive during Ramadan. Here's one of my favourites:

Today, I want you to think of the ONE good deed that you promise yourself to continue doing after Ramadan.
Which one will it be?
Will it be praying tahajjud every night from now on?
Will it be fasting every Monday and Thursday or at least 3 days of the month each month?
Will it be praying in the mosque for every single salah?
Will it be reading one juz’ of Quran each day?
Will it be continually giving charity at least once a week?
What will it be for you?
Remember, “the most beloved of actions to Allah are the most consistent ones even if they are few” [Bukhari]
These good deeds should be a part and parcel of your life well after Ramadan – so pick one and write it down and after Ramadan, check yourself to ensure you consistently perform this good deed.

  X X X

By the end of Ramadan, it felt as if you had undergone a gastric-bypass surgery. The volume of your stomach seems reduced and you have an altered physiological and physical response to food.

At the beginning of Ramadan, you tended to stuff yourself during iftar but as the days passed by, you tended to eat less and less. You realised that, actually, our bodies need very little food to subsist and all those gorging we used to indulge in was due to greed rather than hunger.

Hopefully, whatever benefits we gained after 1 month of fasting will not be offset/undone by 1 month of over-indulging.

Further, I hope that by the end of Ramadan, our nafs (insatiable desires) also went through a similar reduction in volume.

IDC2011 Dinner

While I was tucking in at the IDC 2011 (Inter-School Debating Championship) Grand Dinner, I spotted a familiar face. There was this waiter who looked exactly like my student. I only caught a glimpse of him but I brushed it off as coincidence. Pelanduk dua serupa kot...

Not long after that, I saw two other waiters who looked like students of mine too. Then, it dawned on me, they are all my students working part-time with the catering company.

The 2 boys said 'Hi' and confirmed that I did saw S earlier. Two more students showed up, smiled shyly, all 5 offering to replenish the dishes on my table ("Teacher nak tambah apa2 lagi?").

I don't know why but I felt a bit sad. I'm not implying that waitressing is demeaning or anything like that. In fact, it's probably good that they're learning the value of hardwork and how hard it is to earn a living in the real world.

Maybe I was too pampered when I was growing up and thus it saddens me that some kids have to work at the ages of 15/16 to earn some extra pocket money or to help with their family's financial situation.

In an ideal world, kids shouldn't have to worry about money. It's their parents' job to provide for them.

Further, ideally, kids should be shielded from as much unpleasantness for as long as possible.

The encounter made me realise that I had no idea about the lives that my kids are leading and what they go through on a daily basis.

The 5 boys that I saw often test my patience in class, each in their own unique way.

Seeing them that night made me see them in a different light:

No wonder they are not interested in learning.

No wonder I had such trouble getting them to do any work in class ---> They just have too many things on their plate that education is no longer a priority.

I think teachers should realise that our kids come from various backgrounds, and most of the time, those backgrounds are vastly different from our own upbringing.

As the saying goes, "You'll never understand a person until you walk a mile in their shoes"

What does fasting mean to you?

We all know the many benefits of fasting (it is good for our health, it teaches us to be more compassionate to the poor, etc) but does it hold a special significance to us? Or is it just an annual religious ritual that we perform?

If you type "fasting is..." in a Google search box, a number of phrases will be displayed (courtesy of the search-as-you-type feature):

fasting is good

...is bad

...is good for your health

...is bad for you

...is hard

...is dangerous

...is stupid

This whole debate on whether fasting is good or bad is perplexing to me (and to all Muslims too, I reckon). We Muslims know that it is good for us. This deep conviction stems from years of experiencing it first-hand.

We love and look forward to Ramadan, not fear and dread it.

Coming back to the question 'What does fasting mean to you?', this is my answer:

I read somewhere that we now live in the Age of Instant Gratification. Our society has become more materialistic and hedonistic. People just want to indulge in their every desire at every chance they get. We shop impulsively, backbite unthinkingly, react inappropriately, eat, sleep and entertain ourselves excessively.

For me, fasting teaches us to push the "PAUSE" button. We abstain from eating and drinking from the break of dawn to sunset despite the acute feelings of hunger and thirst. We also have to watch over our words and actions.

“Whoever does not give up false speech and acting upon it and offensive speech and behaviour, Allah has no need of his giving up his food and drink" (Reported by Bukhari)

All these train us to delay or abstain from instant gratifications. We learn to exercise self-control in the face of temptations. Instead of obeying each and every desire that we have, we take the high road and choose the better alternatives.

It is when we stop obeying our desires that we can start obeying Allah and submit to His Design.

Read this excellent article by Khalid Baig (which is the inspiration behind this entry) and this Ramadan blog post by Faisal Abdul Latif to get you into the right Ramadan-frame-of-mind.

Happy reading! :)

KID BP 2011 Diaries

It normally takes me 20-25 minutes to get to Damansara (by car). But last Monday, it took me 3 hours!

My students and I boarded the LRT at 7.30am to avoid the office-bound crowd. The coach we boarded was crowded but it wasn't filled to the brim - so that part of our plan worked out.

Everything fell apart when we arrived at the Kelana Jaya Terminal. It had been raining all morning so the typical Monday jam was exacerbated. Taxis were scarce and after 40 minutes of waiting, we decided to give up and wait for the crowd to subside.

But even after 10am, certain taxis refused to take us to our destination (which is less than 3 km away) because the road leading to that place was still choked.

Finally, we arrived at KDU University College (Damansara Jaya Campus) at 10.20am - hours after we left Gombak.

The whole misadventure made me appreciate my trusty Kelisa in a way that I never did before. I made a mental note to give my car a great big hug once I got home and I vowed to have it cleaned more regularly from now on.

X X X

I went to KDU from June 24-27 for the KDU Inter-School British Parliamentary Debate 2011. I drove the students for the first 2 days but we took the LRT on Sunday and Monday.

A traumatic thing happened which made me swear off driving for a while.

My car brake became unresponsive (even when I jammed both feet on the brake pedal) and I nearly rammed into the car in front of me. My students in the backseat lurched forward and I panicked.

An accident was averted but I was too traumatised to keep on driving. I felt like I had endangered the lives of the students in my care and that thought just paralysed me. I stopped at the nearest petrol station and asked them to call their parents to come and pick them up.

While waiting for the men in our lives to come and rescue us, we bought RM40 worth of snacks from the Mesra Shop.

I felt much better and calmer after performing Maghrib prayer. I was just so thankful that none of us got hurt.

Once my dad and brother finally arrived, they peeked under the hood but couldn't find anything wrong. They tested the car and the brake was working fine.

I was bewildered. How is that possible? Do mechanical things become faulty selectively? Do they have something against women drivers?!

I drove home in my Kelisa while my dad and brother drove the sexist car.

I drove slowly, not willing to take any risk. Even on DUKE Highway, I was only averaging 60km/h.

When I finally got home, I texted my students: "Guys, tomorrow, we're taking the LRT".

X X X

The KID BP 2011 ran for 4 days. 4 tiring, debate-packed days. At first, I was excited to skip school on Friday but in the end, I ended up working longer hours instead.

Throughout the tournament, I think I was averaging 12 hours a day. I was so tired and I missed Kak Safrina.

Kak Safrina & I usually go to these things together and whenever we are bored, we will go off and drink teh tarik, or eat out at nearby restaurants, or just chat with each other.

But since Kak Safrina was away, attending a course, I was left to stave off boredom all by myself.

Thank God for the Nescafe vending machine. It dispenses a cup of hot, aromatic coffee for only 90 cents. A cup managed to keep me awake for at least one more round of debates.

When I caught myself thinking about how I could have spent the weekend, I reminded myself of this saying: "Deeds without sincerity are like a traveller who carries dirt in his water-jug. The carrying of it burdens him and it brings no benefits" (Ibn Al-Qayyim).

The beautiful parable clearly illustrates that complaining derives no benefits. On the contrary, it erodes the good deeds we're accumulating.

This is something that I have to constantly remind myself as my sister complains that I complain too much (^_^')

X X X

Despite all the drama encountered, I quite enjoyed my KID BP experience.

When you invest time, money, attention in your students, you can clearly see the payoff (the teacher-student bond is strengthen and consolidated). The ROI is quite immediate.


Further, my students' speaking skills improved significantly. The shy student adjudicators whom I brought along became very talkative by the end of the 4-day event.

All that debating also enhanced their critical thinking skills. Every remark that was less than accurate became points of contention.

For example, when Aina refused to eat her lunch because the chicken wasn't cooked properly, she complained, "Teacher, it's raw!"

Afif jumped right in and corrected her, "It's not raw. It's medium rare".

And when we were discussing when and where to meet up, they would digress and argue about the correct prepositions of time to use instead.

"Should we be on time, in time or by certain time?"

I think I need to reopen my Grammar book in order to solve this one...