Less than a week from today, if all goes according to plan, I shall no longer be a refugee but instead will have earned the privilege of living in Malaysia under the auspices of a Sarawak ten-year visa.
Already two words to define, and explore. The first auspices: under the auspices of; with the help, support, or protection of.
Now onto a more complicated concept: Wikipedia tells us: A refugee, according to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, is a person “forced to flee their own country and seek safety in another country. They are unable to return to their own country because of feared persecution as a result of who they are, what they believe in or say, or because of armed conflict, violence or serious public disorder.”
I am a refugee and was persecuted and feared persecution for what I believe in. I am a refugee who fled from both the United States and Canada. It is more than Ironic that the United States is inflicting conflict and violence on millions the world over. Perhaps ironic is not the word?
It is, perhaps under certain circumstances. This sentence captures the meaning I want to convey. “I just wanted to go out and experience life, so it’s ironic that I’ve ended up writing.” The synonyms for that usage are; paradoxical, incongruous, odd, strange, peculiar, unexpected. I guess paradoxical would have been a better words to use as its synonyms are: , incongruous, anomalous, conflicting; improbable, absurd, incomprehensible, inexplicable; oxymoronic. My favorite? Oxymoronic, of course. Hahaha Used in a sentence: It was oxymoronic that a government dedicated to privatization should produce a bill to nationalize the legal profession.
It is sometimes fun to play with words – fun for me anyway. A diversion from a very serious matter. It is not fun being a refugee – even though, admittedly, I had it very easy compared to others who are forced to live in camps or in severe want, poverty and insecurity.
But to be blessed with a feeling of security, safety and belonging after years is a blessing beyond comparison. Alhamdulillah!
By the way there is a song: I Don’t Want to Live Like a Refugee by the Heartbreakers released in 1979, but that it not what I am talking about. It is a song about people who chose to live like a victim. Metaphorically, it means you do not have to accept being beaten down, hurt by love, or trapped in a bad situation. It is a call to stop acting like a helpless victim and instead fight for your own freedom and happiness. Contrasting the meaning of the song and the life of a refugee Artificial Intelligence says: Life as a refugee means fleeing war, violence, or persecution and leaving behind homes, jobs, and security. Millions of displaced people face daily struggles for survival, living in crowded camps, facing scarce resources, and navigating long legal processes to find a permanent, safe home.
I did navigate a long legal process indeed, blessed with the help of an excellent agent who have spoken highly of in the past. I also am blessed with retirement income from the USA which enabled me to fund the visa, which ain’t cheap. Another example of oxymoronic. Hahaha
By the way, I do not have a great deal in common with other refugees for this additional reason. About 67% to 73% of refugees live in countries immediately bordering their home country. Last time I checked Malaysia did not border neither United States nor Canada – even though those two countries border each other for miles and miles and miles and miles. Hahahaha The Canada and United States border is about 3,987 miles, including the border with Alaska. It is the longest international border in the world. One would think the USA would be a bit more respectful and solicitous of Canada. This is not so, particularly of late. This is, fortunately, no longer my problem as I reside in safety and security in Malaysian
I cannot imagine a better place to be than Malaysia at this time, And, as my faithful readers, do know; I have a vivid imagination. A scintillating, flamboyant, spirited, vibrant zestful imagination.
My planned tomorrow is an example of why, and how. Tomorrow, my trusty chauffeur and companion Sandman will pick me up at Lyf and we will drive a very short distance to Kapitan Keling Mosque. I have an appointment for a tour led by a man who was honored with the title of Dato. He is Dato Kamaruddin and received much recognition for his work of outreach teaching non-Muslims the truth of the faith, overcoming the rampant misconceptions that only seem to intensify with the times and social media. A Muslim Malaysia Sister who is a dear friend arranged this very special time and tour for me. I am blessed.
The mosque was founded way back in 1801, the central figure was Cauder Mchudeen, who was commonly known at the Kapitan Keling. He was a leader of Penang’s Indian Muslim community. Apparently originally it was a small timber structure with a nipa-palm roof. The original structure was progressively enlarged. Major rebuilding took place in 1910, later major work in 1916 including a distinctive minaret. It is most cosmopolitan in character which reflects the cosmopolitan character of colonial Penang itself.
I am not sure how I will feel during this special visit. I visit is a step along the way of making this my home. It is not seeing this as a part of a journey bur rather this is my resting place. It has been a long journey spanning a lifetimes. This is how I look at it. Sometimes you do not choose where a journey takes you but you can choose to embrace where it bring you. But along the way one must remember: Illegitimi non carborundum. Let us put it this way, this has been a bumpy ride, this hijrah of mine. Hijrahs actually.
Hijrah literally means migration, departure, or leaving one place for another. It has deep meaning as it marked the Prophet’s migration from Makkah to Madinah in 622 CE. It was not just a change of address but leaving behind a life and place that could no longer sustain the faith but moving to a place where he and other believers could live their faith freely and build a new community. The Quran does speak beautifully: “Anyone who migrates for God’s cause will find many a refuge and great plenty in the earth and if anyone leaves home as a migrant towards God and His Messenger and then is overtaken by death, his reward from God is sure. God is most sure. God is most forgiving and most merciful. Quran 4:99100.
Being able to live one’s faith is critically important, nonetheless, Malaysia offers so much more, as will be illustrated through the telling of plans for the rest of the day. A trip to nearby Penang Plaza where I shall find a drug store, a grocery store, my manicurist and a hair salon. Prescription drugs and supplements are readily available and inexpensive. Pharmacists are given great autonomy and authority. It is not necessary to get ongoing prescriptions from your doctor for medications – pharmacists are so knowledgeable about side effects and making suggestions for substitute drugs. I have a gastric disorder and will be stocking up on gaviscon which occasionally is necessary to alleviate symptoms. The grocery store in the Plaza has the freshest and least expensive fruits and vegetables I have ever seen. There is a bakery with the finest of delicacies. All of ones favorite foods are displayed as well as foodstuffs from other countries and cultures. Vintage Nails is a sole proprietorship. She gives the best manis and pedis ever, that seem to last indefinitely. The cost is one quarter of what it would be in the USA. Having a wash and a blow dry in Malaysian hair salons in a luxury beyond compare. One begins the experience sitting on the salon chair, liquid soap is squirted on your hair and then a head message that seems to last for hours. The stylist hands fills with mounds of soap suds, she washes the suds off and begins again. One’s forehand, ears and neck is tenderly massaged. Then all is gently rinsed off and back to salon chair for a professional bouncy blow dry. One walks through the door feeling like a queen. And again for a fraction of what it would cost in the US – less than fifteen US dollars.
These multilingual Malaysians often speak three languages – English clearly, competently without a trace of accent. It makes only English speaking people like me feel inadequate, but understood. My Chinese grandchildren often keep me in the dark by speaking one of their other languages, but it is a small price to pay. Hahaha
To keep someone in the dark is an idiom meaning to keep deliberately not tell someone important information so they don’t know what is happening. Maybe they are blowing off steam. Oops another idiom, a common one. It means to release or get rid of anger, frustration, stress or strong emotions, usually by doing something active or talking about it in another language. Hahahaha
I sent an interesting photo to my WhatsAppers this morning. A black and white with this caption. “Good morning. Today a visit to the Penang Kapitan Keling Mosque in Georgetown. O am wearing my Umrah hijab. Alhamduiilah. To say the least I received a mixed response.
She: Good morning Alexisl
Me: Good morning. I look almost frightening in black and white and covered. Actually I am.
She: The black-and-white look just makes you look mysterious and dramatic.
Me: I am!! Hahahaha
She: May your visit to Kapitan Keling Mosque be filled with peace and blessings.
Me: Thank you. I am well prepared. Been talking about it on my blog
Another exchange.
He: Morning. Enjoy ya
Me: Okay, But it is not a party. Hahaha
He: Then focus lo. Hahaha And behave.
Me: I promise I will do both!!
He Awesome and pls. Hehehe
Me: I am awesome and pleasing. And humble Hahaha
He: When you are in a good mode. Yes. Hahahaha Humble okie for sure.
Me: Not actually but it is our little secret.
Hel Hahahaha
Photographs will include the stunning black and white and my new favorite dessert at Mojo. The “Yang She Gan Lu” with pomelo, mango and sago. It is absolutely delicious, a gourmet delight as you shall see. How much? About $6.50 US. A photo of my exclusive made-to-order breakfast – the best mash potatoes in the whole world, a chorizo sausage and hash browns. I usually have healthy breakfasts but not this morning. Tomorrow I am apparently being treated to lunch at Saigon House. Their wall contains photos of their favorite customers. Can you pick out the one voted the cutest??? Hint – the top row.
