Cerita Satu

I sit on my bed taking in the constant stream of air from the kipas angin.  The temperature feels as though it’s only working one way (up).  The coolness that tags along with the afternoon shower is coming less and less often as dry season approaches. Musim kemarau.  I hurry and make any last-minute changes to the worksheet before my ride gets here.  I fidget through my desk drawer looking for the USB.  My eyes dart to the swarm of ants running aimlessly along the lip of the drawer.  I follow their trail under batteries and envelopes to the open bottle of tick tacks. Permen. I pull it out and dump the remaining candies onto the desk.  My hand starts to tickle.  I take in a big breathe and blow the struggling ants off.  I inspect the permen; they look clear.  I plop the remaining 3 into mouth before realizing my sugar-free resolution has be tarnished.  I shrug it off (just like the ants) and sit back on the bed. The USB.

I hear a voice. Assalamualaikum.  My ibu greets Lina and calls my name.  I grab my purse, botol air, and yoga mat and walk to the car.  Lina opens my door and I slide across the faux-leather seats.

The car comes to a slow stop. Berhenti.  We slide out the way we came and wave goodbye.  We turn toward the house and barely catch eye contact with the other few women entering; yoga mats in hand and pony tails tied high.  We follow their steps towards the house.  I kick off my sandals, not missing a step, and enter into the studio.  It’s a simple but large room with kuning walls peeking out behind the mirrors.  We are welcomed as we begin to set our things down on the wooden benches.  Women remove their jackets, long dresses and head coverings, revealing bare arms and shoulders and sparkling faces while wisps of hair expand in the open air.  The bench becomes littered with clothes and hijabs.  I am quickly reminded of the first time I joined with Lina; filled with anticipation of what she “really” looked like.

The class runs like any other [well run] class; yoga mats fill the room, beads of sweat make their way to the floor, soft music travels through the humid air, women more flexible than I twist their bodies in seemingly unnatural ways and I, stare at the others while trying to make sense of the spoken instructions (no matter what language).  We set goals and push ourselves too hard while laughing at our incapacities.

In a famous TEDtalk, author, Chimamanda Adichie, warns us of ‘the danger of a single story’.  She goes on to say:

The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete.  They make one story become the only story.

When you hear the word Muslim or Islam what is the first thing that comes to mind?  What stories make up or accompany this thought/opinion?  Is this a product of our media and lack of education or our own ignorance?  Let’s not let this single story dictate how we think, act, talk, or treat an entire group of people.

Instead, think about the kids next door laughing uncontrollably when Julien stands behind a wall to try and scare them.  Think about how a simple card from America brightens up a 9^th graders week.  Think about the dedication and strength that is summoned when the call to prayer begins before the first peaks of dawn break.  Think about the parents working 3 jobs to provide a better life for their children.  Think about the pangs of hunger during fasting.  Think about the gifts given and received ‘just because they were thinking of you’.  Think about mama who brings her babies over to her own mother’s house daily.  Think about how much love is showered on Julien and I daily.  Think about these women, coming together and sharing more than just 1 hour of yoga, but also their stories, their struggles, their successes.

Think about that.

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Cerita- story

Satu- one

Kipas angin- electric fan

Musim kemarau- dry season

Permen- candy

Assalamualaikum- peace be upon you

Ibu- mother/older woman

Botol air- water bottle

Berhenti- stop

Kuning- yellow

Hijab- veil worn over the head

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This post is part of Blogging Abroad’s 2017 New Years Blog Challenge, week two: The Danger of a Single Story.

http://bloggingabroad.org/2017-challenge