To travellers, please read this…a precious advice from a friend of mine, nnydd to his friends…..Please allow me publishing your email…
Where ‘somewhere’ is spiritual.
It must be very close to term-break now in the UK. I know this because I have been inundated in recent weeks with questions on travel. Unfortunately the weekdays were busy days and I could not respond quickly.
This turned out to be a blessing in disguise because by Friday I had enough time to mull over the questions, to think of a general advice and, today, to put them in writing. The intention, the purpose and the hope of this article are so that it would benefit friends who would embark very soon on a journey of their lifetime (insya-Allahu ta’ala bi rahmatihi wa bi karamihi, amin!) to faraway Morocco, heart-warming Andalucia, mystical Turkey, enigmatic Egypt, captivating Indonesia, pulse-pounding Thailand, spiritually up-lifting Malaysia, etc.
In writing this advice, however, I do not, and cannot claim, to be a travel specialist as I have not been to all countries mentioned above. Of those that I have visited, with the exception of Turkey, I had spent only one to two weeks, not enough to fully appreciate each country: the climate, robust cuisine, and ruins of various fabulous kingdoms of old. The nature of this article is therefore not definitive; it serves only as a reminder and would be best read by a person who knows me in person.
In separate emails, I have supplied some practical advice to individuals. However, each of the recipients is really better off reading travel guides for more detailed practical tips on each country. Personally, I recommend Lonely Planet guidebooks, especially the pre-2005 editions, and the use of its readers encyclopaedic knowledge, available at Thorn Tree forum (please search at www.lonelyplanet.com). Lonelyplanet books are to me, and thousand other backpackers, ‘our Qur’an (or Bible, or Veda) on the road’.
To start on a happy note, I am glad that this year’s questions are more mature than previous years. Most questioners this year are not of (or no longer of) the ‘hippy’ backpacker type. This is great because in my observation a great majority of Muslim travellers today are of this type whether they are aware of it or not.
For many years, I have great problem with travellers who travel for the sake of ‘having been there and done that’. In the past, I simply ignore questions from them. If they simply need a flight schedule or a train timetable, they could be more resourceful and humbly get the advice from Maulana Google, or Sidi Wiki (how wicked is this nickname?), and hopefully will be shown the right way to sites such as the Man-in-Seat61 (www.seat61.com).
But I noticed that doing this does not solve the attitude problem. It will generate more travellers like them, as each single one of them will be the point of reference for their friends when they return from their travels. The solution lies in educating prospective travellers, especially if they are Muslims, that there is such thing as an art of travelling. The need is to let them know that there exist in their very own tradition a philosophy, a great tradition, and most importantly, an act of worship, called ‘travelling’.
While browsing through the writing of my old teacher one day, I came across the following words, ‘A good faqih will always give hope to the people.‘ The second part of the teaching, about giving hope to others, attracted my attention. It dawned upon me that this would not happen without a certain degree of tolerance and an open heart. A change was in order. I intended from then on to welcome and to show my impartial attention and enthusiasm to anyone who ask.
What is interesting is that a few days after reading that line, I heard a tasawwuf teacher said the following, that ‘a Sufi Master has to be like a big, wide tree. It gives shade and protection to anyone who needs it.‘ It was not the notion of becoming a Sufi Master that overwhelmed me. But what touched me was the message on giving up space to others, on letting others know that their presence is accepted, acknowledged and not a nuisance. That was inspirational.
I did plan to write something last Friday but I came home very late and tired. I wanted to get to bed as soon as I can, but on the dining table was a package for me from Bahrusshofa (www.bahrusshofa.blogspot.com). Inside were two most recent copies of Cahaya Nabawiy, the Indonesian-equivalent of Q-News. This publication is amazing; laden with pearls of wisdom from the Indonesian kiyai one could not be at fault to dream of SIMPULAN to replace Majalah I with Cahaya Nabawiy as the publication of choice. That is a simple common sense, IMHO, since guest writers at Majalah I have critisize PIS very openly recently, to the point of trying to paint it as a problematic fiqhi issue.
But let us not digress too far otherwise I will be banned! What causes me to mention Cahaya Nabawiy here is the following quote in the March issue:
‘Betapa anehnya bumi, semuanya adalah pelajaran. Kukira tidak ada sejengkal tanah di muka bumi kecuali disitu ada ibrah (pelajaran) bagi orang yang berakal apabila mahu mempelajarinya.’
This quote is at the end of a column on al-Habib Abu Bakar ibn Abdullah al-Habsyi, so I deduce that it is taken from his book, quoted in the article, titled Tadhkiratu l-Mustofa li Auladi l-Mustofa, but I could be wrong.
The quote reminds me of the popular phrase ‘the Earth is a big classroom‘. Although it is a short, simple phrase, it is a very important statement. The awareness that every inch of the Earth contains knowledge, or is knowledge itself, does not always dawn upon everyone. The remarkable thing about this is, since Islam put great emphasis on the quest for knowledge, it means that travelling could be a creative, and sometime innovative way to earn some pahala. That is if the intention is correct.
I have lost count on how many times friends had asked me what they should do to make sure that their trip would stay on the pleasing, or beneficial, side. I do not have a well-prepared answer for this because there is never one specific act to guarantee that. I myself did a lot of research and planning before going out to travel, but I do expect and know that most of these would remain on paper only and when I hit the road, the likelihood is I will have to follow the flow and make necessary changes along the way. You do not know how good your decision would be and how it will affect the rest of the journey until you have complete it.
The following comment from Syeikh Nuh Ha Mim Keller might be pertinent to the spiritual journey, but I do find it applicable to the physical one, and related to what we are currently discussing: ‘You cannot control the condition of the road, but you can control the manner you travel over it.‘
That ‘you can control you’re the manner you travel over it’ is one great advice. The understanding that one does have certain control over things is reassuring but it also means that one has to be careful with one’s behaviour. When travelling, many things would be revealing, especially the true nature of or own selves.
Let me share with you the story of my visit to Morocco. When I was about to leave the UK, I checked things up with Sidi Afifi. His advice before I departed consisted of the following, all of which are based on numerous Prophetic traditions:
1. Stay silent if you do not have good things to say.
2. Do not break the heart of a beggar.
3. Give sedeqah, and if someone cheat you, give sedeqah.
4. Control your anger against the poor.
When I reached the shore of Morocco, my first sight of it was its poverty. I walked from the port of Tangier, the hometown of Ibn Battutah, to the hotel along the crumbling wall and medina gate. Street urchins tailed after me, the mostly unpaved road strewn over with garbage. After checking into the hotel that night, I went out looking for an eating place. Everywhere I turned I was greeted by touts offering me prostitutes - males and females. In fact a few of them actually asked if I could be hired!
The next few days in Morocco I met beggars, hustlers and tout everywhere I went - the souk, the mosques, the tombs, the stations. I remember when I was at the seaside town of Sale
, the Moroccan corsair port of yore, I visited the tomb of Sidi Abdullah ibn Hassan, where I bumped into a sizeable group beggars and touts. I was at the end of my wit being jostled and hassled terribly there that I quickly walked to another marabout tomb on the seashore, cursing them under my breath. As I left the second tomb to get to the large Muslim cemetery on the Bouregreg estuary, a dirty young boy whom I recognised as one of the beggars at the first tomb, run after me, pleading for Moroccan dirham. I was alarmed when I saw another bunch of boys, all touts and beggars from the first tomb, were also heading towards me, hands out begging for money.
I ran into the cemetery, one of the most dramatic settings of tombs I have ever seen in the whole Muslim world with ancient tombstones almost falling into the sea. The boys managed to get to about a shout-distance away from me, at which point I jeered angrily to them Imshi! (Begone!) Anger was seeping through every nerves, and I totally forgot Sidi Afifi’s advice to keep silent if I have nothing good to say.
The keeper of the cemetery, an elderly man, soon caught up with me and after I explained to him in broken French what was happening, he went chasing after the boys. From behind the walls of the cemetery I could observe with great clarity their faces in disappointment. Only at that time I realised what had happened, that I have broken not only the first advice, but all four of them together.
Astaghfirullah, and as many astaghfirullah as the number of creatures on the Earth and in the heaven.
This is the reason why after all this while I did not write anything on my Moroccan trip. I am disclosing it now for some of my friends’ sake, so that they would not repeat that mistake and would take Sidi Afifi’s advice with them to Morocco.
In every journey, I observe that the manner of our travel, and our manner during travel, are all deeply connected to our primary intention of taking up the journey. If we have a certain aim, the only way to secure that that aim is by correcting the intention. On this Habib Umar bin Hafidh, the living sage of Hadramaut, said recently,
‘Idha Sah al-khuruj, haSola bihi l-’uruj.’
[When the (intention of) going-out is pure, then the going-up (of spiritual station) is secured]
He was speaking directly on the going out for da’wah, but I feel that the spirit, if not the purpose of his advice, could be applied in this article too. Travel if done in the appropriate way is first and foremost a tool of da’wah for our own soul.
But knowledge and spiritual stations are intangible rewards. To achieve them normally requires a certain degree of spiritual preparation which is not easy or not known to many people.
In the case of
UK students, many are not aware of this and succumb to the temptation of ‘the 5-minutes glory’ which would be accorded to each traveller when they return home. The crave, the obsession, every time there is a break, is to go somewhere. Where is ‘where’ is of no concern so much to them as long as ‘I can go somewhere’.
Here lie several problems. Firstly, the choice of destination. If the intention is pure, this will affect the choice of destination. In our current situation, the best place to go travelling with the hope of achieving a higher station need not always be ‘far away’. Spiritual training that one hope to gain from an overseas Master (syeikh al-murshid) could always be received from a local Master. In many cases, it is much better to do it locally because then the seeker on the Path could ensure and benefit from a long-term companionship with the Master.
The key is not in the distance of travel, but the key is the heart. In this regard, again, the word of the sage Habib Umar bin Hafidz is of benefit:
‘Idha n-fatahati l-qulubu, haSola l-matluba’
[Open the heart to learn more, it will receive what it yearns for.]
This does not mean that long-distance travel is totally not recommended. There are times when one do need to get out from one’s place to avoid spiritual stagnation, and to learn from people in other places. The beauty of long-distance travel is it enable cross-fertilisation of ideas. Also, a nature of human is often to appreciate something ‘foreign’, or ‘imported’ more so than something which is ‘local’, from within our ‘household’.
I remember in a lesson during which my teacher read out an Arabic sya’ir from the jahiliyyah period. One phrase caught my attention, and is translated here freely as:
‘The local singer is not welcomed at the local pub.’
In another occasion, while teaching on the appropriate relationship between a murid and teacher, my teacher commented on how often ‘the person who will benefit the least from a Master is his wife and his children.‘
So, yes, travelling long-distance is fine and in some cases required such as when one does not find peace of heart with a local Master, or when there is no local Master at presence, is required.
The other problem in Malaysian students in the
UK is their attitude, or world perspective. Many are already familiar to my resentment to the Westernised idea of travelling widespread amongst them. To them, a good backpacking experience follows the following formula:
Good backpacking = sleeping rough at airport / train station / bus station / roadside
Good backpacking = wearing hippy style dressings = no shower for days = minimal diet
Please understand that I do not view gate-crashing at airports or train stations as necessarily bad. What I criticise is the materialist, dunyawi culture that characterises the definition.
In my opinion, for the Muslims, we should be better and not stop short at putting spiritual achievement as part of our goal. I rarely find anyone who looks upon meetings with scholars or joining certain spiritual rituals as primary aims of their journey and something to be proud of if achieved. I think this is a reflection of their sorry spiritual state and a waste of money and time. I have no qualm about travelling in
Europe as there are a lot the be learnt from the non-Muslims who have so far been able to absorb and implement many Islamic qualities. But I have problem with Muslims imitating and emulating non-Muslim way of life and being a poor imitator at the same time.
Human is ultimately a creature of habit. al-Ghazali discussed about this in the chapter on the benefit of khulwah, the temporary separation of self from people, and as long as Muslim travellers fail to see that travelling itself is a form of khulwah they will continue to lower themselves into debauchery and unable to reach the higher state.
The sad state is the reverse of Islamic values and notion of travelling is happening. Travels have become another means by which non-Islamic qualities are introduced, practised, and glorified among Muslims. At the end of each travel, these non-Islamic values become a habit and custom. So, travellers, when we lose our Islamic values, stop pointing fingers to others - it is entirely our own doing.
The loss of ‘adab‘, or the sense of putting what is right at its place, rampant these days, is apparent also in the travelling habit of our people. People of the correct senses would save every penny for their journey for knowledge, and when the time comes have no remorse feeling about spending the large amount of money for that cause.
But look at friends around us. They who had spent a fortune travelling around Europe, or the States, will they spend the same amount of money going to, say Morocco, Algeria, or Egypt? The likelihood is they will not want to. Having taken up the Westernised idea of travel, to them travelling to Muslim areas is travelling to a really bad place.
‘No fun la if you go there.’ [What is fun?]
‘Don’t you have better place to go?’ [Where is better?]
‘That’s is a crazy idea, dude! Yeah, I am coming but…’ [You have to take away mosques, madrasah and syeikh from the itineraries]
They really are going to put the hippy, Western backpackers to shame. Even those backpackers have some good sense of culture, of differences in opinion, and at the very least of adventure.
If this is the attitude, how could we expect these young travellers to visit scholars, madrasah, and mosques?
I can assure that most of our students who went traveling to Muslim countries sought nothing different from most Western backpackers. If they plan to go there, they have no intention to visit scholars (dead or alive), or to learn about themselves, or about their own people.
They are simply looking for the novelty at being somewhere different from others.
I hope that your ’somewhere’ is spiritual.
Your poor brother,
nnydd
ps: Have a safe journey and pray for my safety too!
Salleh’s p/s: Your words of wisdom, I appreciate so much. Syukran
I am putting up a website for Muslim travellers, but it is still in progress, and it may take a very long time though as I am pretty busy at the moment…
