Once upon a winter in Laos

Six winters back, in Vientiane, Laos, at an Indonesian diplomat’s French colonial styled house, a Nikaah was performed. The living room of the house, where the Nikaah took place, was decorated in an authentic Minagkabau wedding style. The room was scintillated with brilliance of hundreds of unique embroideries from golden threads, silver sequins, hanging brocade and dazzling buntings showcasing fabulous Minangkabau songket and silk. Although, red and gold dominated the setting, a two layer gold-gilded umbrella stood prominently by a corner, which rightfully honors the woman, for after all this ethnic group of West Sumatra, while Islamic, remains strongly matriarchal.

It was a Thursday the 23^rd of January. It was a crisp winter evening, just after ‘Ashr prayers, in a large circle on the carpeted floor, men sat cross-legged and women with their legs to the side, watched the beaming Malaysian groom sat facing the bride’s father. He was confidently holding his future father-in-law’s hand – as though the 57 year old man might run away - in a handshake manner while clearly uttering the acceptance words in one single breath.

"I accept to marry Aini Maasir binti Arman Maasir with the recital of surah Ar Rahman as mahr".

Everyone looked hopefully to the witnesses. Both witnesses nodded, smiled and declared that the groom’s vow recital is accepted.

At that very moment, the bride and groom - dressed in traditional Malay nikaah outfits as white as snow - legitimately started their life together as husband and wife.

We have officially moved

Everything is arranged in its place thus no more boxes lying around the house waiting to be kicked. The house is looking more and more like a home.

 

Actually, I haven’t completely arranged things; I’ve put the remaining boxes - mostly filled with items that are not used often, in the storeroom. They will eventually find their way out when they are needed.

 

 

I am falling in love with the house faster than I thought.

 

Perhaps it’s because of all the things surrounding the house. Such as the unpretentious little mosque just right in front of our veranda, where the loyal muezzins calls for prayers 5 times a day and short sermons are presented after dawn prayers – in Malay and English. Or the neighbors’ maid who entertains herself by singing her heart out following the music on her radio, starting from 10am to 1pm, which indirectly provides me a daily 3 hours of Indonesian pop concert. Or maybe the laughter of children playing and chasing each other in the drive way during the hours before the sun sets.

 

But it certainly isn’t because of the very thin walls of the house that can make one hear every single movement next door and therefore makes me mindful each time I need to fart.

 

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My dear friend Faiz tagged me. I am sorry that I couldn’t have done it earlier due to the moving et al. I don’t have a scanner right now to scan the most precious wedding picture. But I’ve taken a shot of a picture on my dressing table which I cherish the most. A black and white picture of Beloved Other Half and I goofing around after our nikaah.

 

 

 

 

 

Thousand and one tasks

I am back from the Langkawi assignment. Working up and down the hill of Teluk Baru for 12 days non-stop my legs are screaming for a day off, which is not possible since we are in the midst of shifting to the new place – from Bukit Kachi to Taman Universiti.

 

This time it seems a bit challenging to move from a duplex abode to an 8 year old semi-detached house. Not only because my poor feet have to endure the steep steps of Bukit Kachi but also because I have to arrange our 2 years of accumulated belonging to a smaller space.

 

My solution is to donate some items. Minimalize. And somehow .. it sure makes me feel lighter.