4:30 am I walked hastily to the Masjid. Like everyone else trying to be early and sit comfortably in a corner and pray or read Quran. Well my place today was on a cold floor beside a heap of slippers that people put away. I wasn’t going to look further. Tired of looking and tired of seeking a better place. Anywhere will be okay, I will make it the best place there is.
What did I wish today all of the sudden? Not to be hurried and being settled at a place I don’t belong. I wish to walk leisurely to the masjid like I have done walking to my surau back home.well most of the time I drive so isn’t that a luxury. The long journey away from home has started to take my energy away. Maybe another round of nasi kambing or chicken biryani would revitalise my self. But again that would mean a long queue, waiting and dealing with someone cutting the queue. The agony just ridiculously endless. The prices were unbelievable to say the least. Yesterday I bought nasi kambing for 50 rials and chicken biryani with half chicken for 25 rials. Imagine to do that every other day ! Koyak abis…..
Breakfast was that one-rial bread, sweet smudgy dates, yogurt and my now fav nescafe latte. Enough to settle myself early in the morning. The tawaf earlier today was smooth and easy, no chaotic crowd only a few wheel chairs that were dangerously manoeuvred around us. We left the masjid directly into a frenzied marketplace. Post- Fajr prayers market was bustling with shouting and yelling. There was a new currency on the street called “Jokowi”. Fifty thousand Jokowi equalled 10 rials. The actual conversion was 50,000 rupiah equalled 12.19 Saudi rials. So who is more clever here depends.
I walked through the busy market occasionally bumped into a few makcik Indon trying to bargain a handful of jalabiah that already well rested on their shoulders. With no arabic they still can negotiate as the seller seemed annoyed. I am sure those makcik will win and got the bargain. They always had it their way.
The least successful hawkers I think would be those Pakistani selling tasbeeh. They don’t shout or yell the price. No interesting tagline other than approaching us and extending a bunch of tasbeeh beads. Are you selling or begging? Beggars also mostly Pakistani/Indian origin that aggressively ask you money. I turned away one today as he nudged my chest for some change. I felt bad for him but hey never nudge my chest again okay.
