Masjid Indeed

Yami and I have been really enjoying Malang. The city is big enough to have the luxuries of a big city but still with a small city feel. We've been getting to know the area and can now walk around without feeling like total tourists (bag on back, Lonely Planet in hand) though I stand out since there aren't too many whiteys here. The alun-alun (city center) has a nice park surrounded by a colonial era temple, ornately decorated mosque, an upscale (used loosely) shopping center, a downscale shopping arcade, food stalls, supermarket, and the bustle of cars, scooters, and becaks (pedi-cabs). The city is situated on hills and a river runs through it. The cliffs of the river are covered with foliage and crammed with houses and shanties which reminds my of some small towns in Europe.

Friday was again Juma (the Muslim holy day). Yami and I got the the Masjid (mosque) about 10 minutes before it started. I sat with Yami inside the mosque in Denpasar but being the only one sitting while everyone else is doing their prayers make me uneasy though no one has said anything and I've only received inquisitive looks and smiles; never frowns. So after that experience I've just been hanging out outside the mosque and waiting for Yamin when he goes to Juma. From experiences so far, the mosque fills up and late comers roll out their rugs for praying in the courtyard in front of the mosque. The sermon and prayers are amplified on speakers located outside the mosque so all can hear and participate.

So this time I decided to wait across the street in the park. I just plunked myself down on the grass and opened up my book. After a few pages I looked up and realized that I was surrounded by rows of Muslims attending Juma; it had spilled out of the Mosque, into the courtyard and halls, and now surrounded me in the park. Those that didn't have mats or rugs sat on newspapers. I was feeling a bit uncomfortable since I knew that when it came time to pray I would be the only one sitting. I'm glad I decided to wear a sleeved shirt; my wife beater that I was going to wear may have created some frowns. When the sermon started I decided to close my book so as not to seem disinterested. Again I received inquisitive looks but that was all. A police officer layed out newspapers and sat a few feet from me. He offered me a place on the papers since I was the only one sitting on the grass but I graciously declined. When prayer time started everyone stood up and some little kids next to me said something to me but I shrugged my shoulders and they just giggled.

After Juma is over most people go back to work and some businesses close for the remainder of the day. It's a mass exodus from the mosque (and area around the mosque). Teens take off their caps to reveal their hipster hair styles and workers who temporarily donned an ankle length wrap remove them to reveal cut-offs. 99 percent of the attendees are men here in Indonesia; women have a separate place in the mosque to pray but I have yet to see more than a hand full.

Yamin takes a while to show. There are tons of slippers (flip-flops) in front of the mosque (it is required to remove footwear) and since he bought some cheapies, there are a tons of the same. We find each other and recount our experiences, which include some locals napping during the surmon, over some fried chicken. Yami thinks he is wearing someone else's pair of slippers. Oh well.