Reflections from the bus
The Arabesque music crackles on the bus system. “My hopes are ended ... my letters didn’t reach you in time ... I see you still standing there, imprinted in my memories ...” Rugged farmers with blankets and baggage tied up in burlap and rice bags load their goods. Women swathed in layers of overdress sweat mutely in their shadows as we endure the airless end of summer burst of heat. Children lisp one liners like ‘bus!’ ‘tram’ and ‘mosque’ all with the same eager tone of discovery. Hard to tell which they are more enthused with. The new mosque being built dwarfs the two story, football field sized bus depot. It’s new roof is on, hammered tin covering multiple domes. Blinding in the hazy sunlight it’s no wonder the children are mesmerized.
As we head further southeast the features have changed, as have the accents. “I miss you just the same as at beginning ... the clocks have stopped where you left ... our love is as fresh as the day I met you.” warbles the Arabesque singer in the slightly more guttural accent of the region. More stooped and wizened the people reflect the intensity of their rural life, looking much older.
But the people around me are not caught in a distant era. Across the aisle students use laptops as I’m doing. Many men reflect the farm in their visage, yet wear business suits and shoes that make that satisfyingly important sound on the pavement. No one is cell phoneless. The median of town is carefully laid out in roses. Flashy pedestrian walkways connect brand new highrises with the local metro. Each apartment block is tastefully painted and laid out in a circle around a brand new mega mosque. Counting the domes per mosque you often find forty - the symbol of infinity.
The cutting edge modernity is woven seamlessly into ancient traditions. By 2010 the image of a religious leader as an old man with white hair will be legendary. Muslim religious degrees now turn out Blackberry toting, multilingual, laptop savvy, eco-friendly, health conscious, PC, sporty, English speaking, cosmopolitan, flexible, missions oriented, artistic, and musical priests.
The children lisping as they gaze out the bus window are speeding into a new age. Even the most rural bus stop hastens forward into world transforming modern Islam with an eager tempo. The Arabesque singer’s finale is a medley of various Islamic priest calling from famous mosques, each voice part of a rich cacophony. “Come worship Allah, there is no other god, and Mohammed is his prophet.” Is it an invitation or a command? Hard to tell.