Cold mosque, warm hearts

Upon waking at 3am from a twelve hour sleep, there was really no excuse not to go to Sultan Ahmet Mosque for fajr. So I headed out into the quiet streets. After making some pretty poor attempts at night photography, I headed into the masjid. Almost immediately a little black and white cat sprang into view. Spotting me, she wasted no time in approaching and curling herself around my legs, seeking warmth in the freezing cold.

I entered the inner courtyard and she bounded across in front of me, scaling the shelves outside the entrance to the prayer area, playing madly. She approached again as I sat to remove my boots, attracted by the rustling plastic bag I had produced from my coat pocket. I was so surprised when she jumped up on my lap and began enthusiastically snuggling in. We sat like that for awhile until I noticed others arriving and entering the mosque.

As I tried to shift the cat to stand up, she braced her little legs, not wanting to be moved. I let her sit a bit longer and asked the security guard about her. His English was not great but I managed to ascertain that the cat lived behind the Sultan Ahmet Mosque and is not a stray, but well fed and looked after. She certainly looked it- she was quite rotund and her coat was extremely clean and shiny, unlike many of the cats seen in the streets here.

As I finally ejected the cat and entered the mosque (the cat entered too by the way!) I noticed a woman making thikr at the back, not behind the screen though. I went and stood there too, and made a couple of cycles of prayer. After we had sat for awhile like that she stood up and began to speak to me in Turkish and to gesture. I recited my usual "Fazla Turkce bilyorum" (I don't speak much Turkish), then "Inglis". I guessed that she was saying, "It's cold here, let's move" so I nodded and followed her behind the screen were there were several more warm bodies.

The woman was very, very sweet. She looked a bit like my Mum-in-law actually. She carried a small prayer rug and made sure to share it with me.

The fajr prayer was beautiful: it was wonderful to hear the Imam recite, I felt filled with the Qur'an from head to toe.

The one and only reason I sat through 45 minutes of the Imam's lengthy post-fajr talk, in Turkish, was because I hoped to have a conversation with the kind woman afterwards. Finally, however, I was cold almost to shivering point and, regrettably, needed to move on. I wondered how long the Imam would actually talk for and how long the women would sit, praying, rocking gently, and murmuring quiet "amins" and thikr in the searing cold. I shared a warm farewell with the kind woman and left the mosque, affixing my almost permanent scarf/niqab across my face and hurrying back to the hotel and the physical comforts of air conditioning, coffee and fresh omelette.

To the mosque!

It is prayer time. I have showered, unpacked and rugged up. What will I find at Sultan Ahmet masjid? What will access be like? What will worship be like?

I am disappointed to find that everyone's gone out without me, thinking that I am asleep. I guess that is because I fiddled around for so long getting ready, got caught up watching world news...

I am reticent to head out alone, but the brother at reception reassures me and points out that you can easily orient yourself with the Blue Mosque.

So I head out tentatively, feel the caress of light, snowy air- it's not as cold now... I whirl around slowly in the cobbled street- every angle is a photograph, every view is a picture...

I make my way up the cobbled street towards towering minarets. I am waylaid first by the eye-catching shops, and then by their owners. I am ushered in and given tea. I am shown beautiful textiles under the glow of colourful lamps. There are three floors of things, multiple shops just like this.However will I choose what to buy? I fall in love with a red silk bed cover and a table cover in beautiful blue. I tell the assistant, his name "Qurban", that I will return with my friend who will help me to buy.

A few shocks greet me in the mosque courtyard. First, there are dogs. Alsatian dogs. Running around freely. I gulp and tread a wide path around them. I find, though, that because the freedom of street life is the norm for them, they are not particularly interested in passing humans. More charmingly, cats repose everywhere: outside carpet stores: on chess sets in shop windows: on icy courtyard benches. Australian cats by comparison seem cloistered, oppressed.

The next courtyard pest is very human and very interested in passers by. He is selling Istanbul guides. He is extremely skilled at his work and I want to bring him to Australia to work for my husband. (Ismail, wait until I explain the flawlessness of his technique, you will love it!) Needless to say I now own a guide and two books of postcards...

The athan begins, athans actually: competing calls from different sides of the city. I quickly set my camera to video in an attempt to capture it. Again, I am dervish-like, spinning, absorbing it all...

If I can claim to have got it right with packing for Istanbul, it is in the inspired wisdom of spending a couple of hundred bucks on my Salomon water-proof boots. I am loving them with thick merino socks. But I do not want to leave them on the shoe rack at the masjid! I bag them up and do so however, hesitantly...

I tumble into the centre of the vast salat room, a little ungraciously. Before I have even thought to look...up...an attendant strides towards me, pointing to the back and a small area behind screens, albeit beautiful ones. I head over, only mildly disappointed (I mean, I am in the Sultan Ahmet mosque!) and make my initial salat between women who pray swiftly in rustling winter abayas. It is only when sitting after my sunnah, waiting for the jamat to begin that I look...up...and gasp at the indescribable beauty of the ceiling.

I can hardly take it in. My prayer has not been mindful today and I understand that it reflects my scattered, post-flight condition. I hope this morning, after a marathon sleep, that I will be able to focus on my prayer, and further absorb and comprehend that ceiling and its staggering beauty.

(PS, learned a trick: can take my boots in plastic bag with me into the women's area ;))

From inscrutable Malaysia to incomprehensible Turkey ;)

Alhamdulillah, I could not have hoped for a better flight this time around. I slept stretched out across two-and-a-half seats: four hours and deep enough to dream. Along the other two-and-a-half seats was my friend Julia, who very cleverly slept the whole way. I watched bits and pieces of movies too: the new Footloose: the OLD Footloose...and I watched, transfixed, ALL of the recent Aussie film Red Dog. Anyone who hasn't seen that, should. I laughed aloud and cried aloud so I don't know what the other passengers must have been thinking...

Which brings me to one of the topics of my blog today. If I felt I wasn't quite sure what Malays were thinking some of the time (because they are so dang nice you can hardly believe it!), I had none of that problem arriving in Istanbul. It was quite obvious that the women at the visa counter did not like me. They did not like anyone. I know because I had to go back to the desk four times and dealt with both women there. Where a Malay women will immediately twinkle her eyes at you, and a Malay man will put his hand on his heart and dip in a short bow toward you, it is much harder to court the Istanbul personality. I don't get them and they don't get me either. Yet!

They think I am Turkish because of my scarf and my odd word of Turkish, sparse but confusingly well-delivered.I can see them trying to figure it out: she's not Turkish, but she is fair-skinned and wears a scarf and says masha Allah and insha Allah. What is she? I find myself having to spell out "I am Australian" and "I am Muslim" in more certain terms here. Finally they understand and are pleased. There is less English spoken but some speak extremely well. I am so psyched to get my Turkish going!

On the way in on the train it was freezing. Delightfully, it was also snowing. We were crammed into the carriage. There seemed to be an abundance of Turks, mostly men, going...somewhere. We assumed to work. They were all bundled up, like us, in coats and scarves, their skin pale olive mostly, and their expressions blank but with very alert eyes, without the Malay glaze of immediate warmth. But heck, these guys were heading to work in sub-zero temperatures, so I forgive you Istanbul!

I leaned back further and further into fellow group member Tiffany as the train continued to fill with Turkish men. I covered my face with my scarf to keep my nose from freezing off, but it was also a comfort psychologically under the unfamiliar gaze of all those sharp male eyes. There was one very kind gentleman who helped me with my bags as the carriage continued to fill unmercifully. He also helped me drag my cases across the tracks at Sultan Ahmet before disappearing into the snow.

Almost immediately my perceptions of the Istanbul personality were shattered as a couple outside the famed kofte place at Sultan Ahmet greeted us jovially and in excellent English, offering directions and smiles, and asking for nothing.

After a few days I learn that sometimes you just have to dig a little deeper in Turkey. It may also have been a matter of waiting to adjust culturally, because, quite frankly, arriving in Istanbul, fresh from a week in Malaysia, was like having blasted through a worm hole into a new dimension. In any case, what I have discovered is that the Turkish austerity can be deceiving, and tends to melt suddenly, like the snow into sunshine here, into enormous generosity. For example, a woman on the train who cut short her haughty glance as soon as I smiled, in the next moment was offering her seat to my companion, who was visibly tired and struggling on the packed train.



The staff at the Seraglio Hotel displayed a very dignified and industrious hospitality which was steeped in an unwavering culture of generosity, such as I have not seen in the service industry before. Honestly, I am convinced they would have lent me lira had I been short. Read my review of the wonderful Seraglio, among many other glowing ones here.

Higher Learning

The Malaysian personality is a little...inscrutable. You want to accept everything at face value, but if you are curious, like me, you do tend to wonder what's actually going on behind the veneer. There is no doubt that Malaysia's people are warm, genuine and hospitable. It's the face of the society that I really wonder about: especially the way the newspapers insist upon an image of Malaysia that upholds racial and cultural harmony, democracy and Islam simultaneously. The face of the opposition government is conspicuously absent, apart from one or two negative portrayals in opinion pieces.

Enquiring minds among us had plenty of opportunity to dig around under the surface over the last two days, as we met with a selection of the top political and academic minds in the country. On Wednesday we were privileged to meet with distinguished Malaysian ex-prime minister Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad, the retired patriarch often credited with bringing Malaysia into the twenty-first century.



Dr Mahathir does not see himself as a visionary. He speaks in very simple, unassuming terms. Rather than admitting to ever actually having a "vision" he prefers to say that "as you go along" it becomes clearer as to what needs to be done. He believes his bequest to Malaysia to has been not so much a vision, as a "contribution the development of a country."

Dr Mahathir likes to use simple Malaysian sayings to express himself. "If you lose your way go back to the beginning" is one that he shares with us. He has applied this principle to his views on Islam, and to his economic observations. He believes we should refer back to the Qur'an and the undisputed Sunnah for religious grounding, and that we should trade by the good, old-fashioned gold standard.

He speaks more about Islam than I had expected, and proficiently. He explains that our understanding of Islam should facilitate social harmony, and that there ought to be an emphasis on justice rather than process and punishment.

I find that Dr Mahathir's approach to Islam is more sophisticated than I had experienced from various speakers and sheikhs I had encountered when I first converted, usually on the internet, who often espoused an idealistic vision of "shariah" without ever explaining exactly what it was they meant. Until I began to study Muslim societies, I did not realize that men like Mahathir, and countries like Malaysia, have had to grapple with actually making a Muslim society work, with some semblance of democracy and concern for human rights, and so their approach to Islam is likely to be pragmatic and objective-oriented. But how is it that Malaysia has been able to retain Islam and approach democracy, when other Muslim societies have only been capable of producing authoritarian and somewhat medieval-style governments, such as Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan? This was a persistent question which we carried into each meeting with us and we wondered when it would be satisfactorily addressed...

After leaving Dr Mahathir's office, we drove to the International Islamic University of Malaysia (IIUM) for a program of lectures and discussion. First we heard from Professor Dr Abdelaziz Berghout, Deputy Rector and social scientist who specialises in Worldview Studies, particularly the development of Worldview Studies from an Islamic framework.

Upon Googling "Worldview Studies" one can clearly see the need to address and imbalance in the discipline: upon examining the first three pages of results, it became clear that the area is thoroughly dominated by Christian and Creationist thought. On the third page there was a website about Eastern Worldview, which only referred to Buddhist and Hindu thought. But why is Worldview Studies important for an Islamic Society and for society as a whole? This harks back to another of Dr Mahathir's simple wisdoms, "to know is to love": understanding other cultures facilitates social harmony. Prof Dr Berghout believes uniformity "degrades meaning" as per this Qur'anic verse:

Oh mankind! We created you from a single (pair) of a male and a female, and made you into nations and tribes, that you may know each other (not that you may despise each other).
(Surah Al Hujurat, verse 13) Prof Berghout sees the challenge posed by our differences being addressed by individuals and groups possessing a "globalised worldview" and therefore being well situated to understand each other and live together peacefully.

IIUM Rector, Professor Dato' Sri Dr Zaleha Kamaruddin finally joined us in time for question and answer. She was asked to comment on Islam and democracy in Malaysia: was it unique? Different? Why? Prof Kamaruddin did not make a profound or detailed statement on this, but used the Malaysian tea ritual as a metaphor to attempt to explain a culture of discussion and dialogue which she believed existed in Malaysia and aided its democratic efforts. Further elucidation on Islam and democracy by Dr Aldila Dato' Isahak failed to shed any more light on the Malaysian democratic experience for me, in fact I found it difficult to comprehend her argument. Maybe it was just me...

While we left IIUM feeling that we still had unanswered questions, we felt extremely grateful for the generous hospitality and attention to detail with which our delegation was hosted. It was seamlessly organized, warmly delivered and we were extremely well fed! Thanks IIUM.

Malaysia is relatively peaceful multi-cultural, multi-ethnic nation, as is our own Australia. But while our media seems to have enjoyed stirring the racial pot in the lead-up to Australia Day, the Malaysian media daily publishes exhortations towards racial harmony and unity. The New States Times, delivered to our door every morning, seems to have a definite government agenda, with a reassuring, somewhat paternalistic tone. It emphasises and re-emphasises the need for racial tolerance and harmony, and one wonders if it paints a more rosy picture than what actually exists on the ground.

Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad in our meeting on Wednesday seemed proud of the racial harmony of Malaysia, whilst also acknowledging that there have obviously been upheavals and sad days along the way. Several young people I have spoken to on the streets of KL so far report having friends from a variety of ethnic and religious groups.

Malaysia seems like a kind but careful, slightly old-fashioned parent. For a long time any discussion of racial issues was prohibited because it was felt that it caused more problems than it solved, a view upheld on Wednesday by Dr Mahathir Mohamad. To date there have been laws to prevent students here from engaging in political activism, not because, I believe, Malaysia is by nature an oppressive state, but because it was felt that such activity distracted students from their exploration of knowledge.

But a new shift in consciousness accompanies moves to amend those laws by the government because the perspective that they may actually stunt students' political growth has moved more to the forefront of Malaysian thinking.

Malaysia is by and large a peaceful and successful society that tends to err on the side of caution, but also demonstrates the courage to step up, courageously and always thoughtfully. Like any careful parent it understands that a certain amount of turmoil is required to facilitate growth, however much it can hurt.

Prof Dr Abdullah Ashan pointed out on Thursday afternoon at the Institute of Islamic Thought an Civilisation (ISTAC), that all the political parties in Malaysia are actually based on race, and he believes that a coalition government is better, towards the aims of plurality, transparency and accountability. Until recently I had not realized that Malaysian schools are also divided based on race, even though there are steps forward being made, such as the children's native languages beginning to be taught during school hours, instead of as an after school extra. Indian Malaysians whom I have since met in Australia tell me they have come to our country to study because of the limited access to university places for Chinese and Indian Malaysians.

Dr al-Ashan also brought us a step closer to understanding how democracy had been able to take root in Malaysia. Again he spoke in terms of the racial issue: because Malaysia was made up of three large ethnic groups, they had been forced to exercise a level of tolerance and to make compromises. For more on Dr al-Ashan's talk and his specialty, Huntington's "Clash of Civilisations" thesis, see Appendix II.

To me, the Malaysia meetings felt like climbing a mountain, and not just because the trip timetable was often arduous. It was because as we proceeded, it felt like the scholarship got more incisive and as we ascended through the ranks, ultimately to sit with Professor Dr Hashim Kamali, conclusions became more satisfying and the view became clearer and more comprehensive. See my summary of his remarks at Appendix III.

Post Script: Finally, Anwar, in Istanbul!

While newly acquitted Malaysian opposition leader Anwar Ibrahim was elusive in Malaysia, we were astounded to find that he was in Istanbul when we arrived, and lecturing at the Prime Minister's residence.

Anwar spoke astutely and authoritatively on democracy. On the question of the compatibility of Islam and democracy, he points to Muslim majority southeast Asian nation, Indonesian, which held free elections as early as 1955 and which he considers "more democratic than Florida".

Democracy, he asserts, is no stranger in the Muslim world.

Malaysia, however, he does not consider to be truly democratic, observing that there is "freedom of speech, but no freedom after speech". It is not surprising that Anwar is unconvinced of Malaysia's democratic status, considering what he has gone through at the hands of the corrupt system. Suffering an astonishing fall from grace after the 1997 Asian financial crisis, Anwar was fired from his position as Deputy Prime Minister, which he had held since 1993, staunchly allied to Prime Minister Mahathir Mohamad. He was subsequently sentenced to six years in prison for corruption, and a further nine years on sodomy charges. The conviction was reversed in 2004 but in 2008 he was again arrested for alleged sodomy, the charge being overturned in 2012. During his time in custody he alleges he was mercilessly beaten and tortured.

During the Istanbul lecture he more than hinted at the true nature of his dramatic dismissal in 1998 and the events that followed. In fact, he revealed that it was his unwillingness to participate in corruption at the highest level that hastened his dismissal. Further, that it was his reluctance to be a party to the bailing out of Mahathir’s son that saw him so roundly dismissed and thoroughly degraded. It is hard to believe that the hospitable elderly man we met in Putrajaya was capable of orchestrating, or at the very least condoning the despicable treatment of Anwar Ibrahim that has lasted well over a decade.

Anwar spoke deftly on Maqasid al-Sharia, with an obvious practical knowledge of the subject and its application. On the topic of the Arab Spring and Turkey as a possible model for ensuing Arab democracy, he echoed journalist Kerim Belci, feeling that assistance could be given by Turkey but essentially, “let the Arabs decide.”

Day 2. I pray in a mosque: for the first time ever???

So, I never really elaborated on Day 2 and how KL began to claim a piece of my heart. As I said, the clouds cleared a little bit and with that came a new KL. We caught a train to the National Mosque and Museum. We also explored the Central Markets and China Town. As I was dressed casually in a cotton shirt and pants, I packed an abaya for the mosque at the same time realizing that the small backpack I chose to bring with me was not big enough for a day out while traveling. I made a mental note to try and purchase a bigger one at the markets.

Just as we approached the mosque, the batteries in my camera decided to run out. The mosque is beautiful. White, light and spacious with a beautiful luminous blue dome. Shoes are discarded at the bottom of the stairs before entering the mosque complex and purple hooded gowns and head scarves are offered to those who are not appropriately covered for entry. This is where I might begin to examine the site in terms of access, particularly for women.

We file through the beautiful courtyard area and gather at the entry to the salat area. As I arrive, a Muslim gentleman at the entrance to the grand salat room is already in impassioned conversation with a young woman in our group, concerning the status of women in Islam. (I say "grand" salat room, only because I cannot right now think of a better word, and do not yet have direct experience of any "grander" mosques as yet, but though large and ornate it is not overbearing in its grandiosity). Behind me, my Christian friend Julia is making dua with a circle of Muslim men seated on the floor. Why did my camera have to die now! Someone else from our group, thankfully, notes the moment and duly records it.

A huge space is spread out before me in which to pray, but as a Muslim woman I am accustomed to inquiring humbly, "Where do the women pray, please?" I ask the Muslim gentleman just this and he directs me to an area behind screens, right at the back, access to the spaciousness of the worship area stunted, confirming my broader experience with mosques. Still, I think, at least I am under the dome: I am here.

We went on to visit the Islamic Museum which contained exclusively Islamic artefacts, many of them from Turkey. I never saw evidence of a museum of traditional Malay folk history or anything like that. Perhaps such a thing exists, but my feeling is that artefacts pertaining to traditional Malay culture would not have been favoured during Islamisation due to their association with magic and the occult, forbidden in Islam. (After returning home I was to discover that KL does indeed have a National Museum containing artefacts from the cultural histories of all ethnic groups in Malaysia). I was impressed with the contemporary art movement in KL and the amount of space the newspapers devoted to it. I did not have time to visit the KL Art Gallery due to a heavy schedule of meetings and not really thinking of it until too late. But I believe the fact that there is a vibrant contemporary art movement in the society is indicative of a certain level of freedom which is able to allow and inspire self-expression.

Later, we return to the National Mosque for dhuhr prayer. As I again approach the entrance to the salat room I see a wondrous sight: at the halfway point of the main prayer area, in the very centre of that glorious space, behind the men who are clustered at the front, stands a row of praying Muslim women, all in white! With a sharp intake of breath I hesitate only for the briefest of moments before hastening to join them. Another woman with two little girls, also veiled for prayer, join us, followed by a woman all in black with niqab. As I make my salat inside a masjid “proper” for the first time in my life as a Muslim woman, I weep quietly… After salat-al-dhuhr, the men begin to disperse, and it is now that the women scatter like birds, retreating behind the screens at the back to perform their voluntary prayers in privacy.

Having come from Brisbane, where the women’s prayer area is always a little room, cut off, without, it seems, even the option to pray in the greater mosque area behind the men, as was done in the time of our Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, today’s salat was a peak experience for me. I come away wondering just what would happen if I entered one of the mosques back home and took up a space at the back to pray, behind the men? What could they do to me? What would they say? Is it time to demand for ourselves as Australian Muslim women the “dual option” as practiced here in Malaysia? By this I mean having the option to pray behind the men and fully enjoy the space of the masjid, or to enjoy the privacy of the screened area, as is also our right.

Fell in love with a city today...

Let me be honest, day 1 in Kuala Lumpur L was really ordinary. Apart from the sleep deprivation, I was quietly disappointed in KL and desperately homesick. I hadn't been able to see the kids on Skype as there were internet issues in the hotel. All I had really seen was a jungle of tall buildings and shops- Chanel, Dior, all the usual suspects. Guiltily, I thought "yawn".

The city centre seemed very much a construction which was steeped in the Western/globalized capitalist culture. Evidence of original Malay culture did not seem to be apparent at all, as far as evidence of any animist religious rites etc, but one would think that if these religions were still practiced they might be more likely to be found in the outer areas, not in central KL. (Apparently Sufism and Shia mysticism can be found to be intertwined with remaining animist beliefs but I never saw evidence of this in KL).

There wasn't really a strong presence of Islamic culture either in that central KL city area, except of course things like prayer rooms being available, Islamic dress among the women, Islamic greetings, all of which distinguished Malaysia from home. I had expected to hear the Athan being called from somewhere, but we didn't hear it at all from where we were positioned.

With the advent of day two, however, I opened up a bit and so did KL. The clouds, which on day one seemed never-ending, as if someone needed to get amongst them with a shovel and dig out the blue, even conceded a little azure...