Better to die than not go on haj pilgrimage

JAKARTA (JP): Sandiwi slit his throat and bled to death when he found out that he might fail to reach the Holy Land again this year because he lacked the necessary documents.

The 35-year-old, illiterate villager from Sampang, Madura Island in East Java, was first dropped from the haj pilgrimage registry last year. He was placed on a waiting list, along with 40,000 other people, because the government of Saudi Arabia set a quota of 196,000 pilgrims for Indonesia.

Sandiwi and the others on the waiting list were given priority to go this year, but late visas and other documents created uncertainty and anxiety.

And Sandiwi felt the shame of failing to go again would be too great to bear.

Though their reactions are not as extreme, there are people who understand and share Sandiwi's frustration. A great number of pilgrims who were supposed to leave on earlier flights but could not do so because of lack of visas, chose to stay for days in the dormitories rather than returning home and waiting in comfort.

"Everybody back home has bid us farewell in ceremonies. We're too ashamed to go home," a prospective pilgrim said.

Why the shame? One of the reasons, one can surmise, is the respected status usually accorded to people who have gone on the pilgrimage.

People, especially those who have not gone, greet the returning pilgrims politely, calling them Pak Haji or Ibu Hajjah.

Certainly, not everybody goes on pilgrimage because they crave the honor. In fact, most people leave for Saudi Arabia praying that they will die in the Holy Land and become syahid (martyrs).

A leader of the Nahdlatul Ulama Moslem organization, for instance, was known to have gone on pilgrimage 10 times because he really wanted to die there. He died at home.

Wati, a 17-year-old servant working in Rempoa, South Jakarta, said that in her small hometown in Central Java, "The haj are very respected persons."

"I respect them because I believe they are better than me, religiously," she said. "I don't know how, exactly, but I think they are different from Moslems who have not gone on the pilgrimage."

"Back home, only the elderly go on the pilgrimage," she said. "They usually have to save for years to be able to pay their way to the Holy Land. The fee is very expensive, you know. Not many people go, because most people in my village are poor."

"In Jakarta, I see many young people go on the pilgrimage. There are many rich people here," she said. "I also respect them, because they can go and do the religious duty at such a young age.

"If I were rich, the first thing I would do is send my parents on the pilgrimage," she said.

Parjo, 22, a pedicab driver in Tangerang, said being a pilgrim must be very special. "I respect them very much. It's difficult to describe, but I feel it," he said. "I respect them very much. Why? Because they are rich but religious. It is rare to find such a combination in people: rich but pious."

"Usually rich people gamble away their money, or commit sins," he said.

"I wish I could go on the pilgrimage. But not now. I can't. It's impossible for me. I am only a pedicab driver."

Udin, a 43-year-old garbage collector in Ciputat, South Jakarta, said almost the same thing. "The people who have gone on the haj pilgrimage should be respected because they have adhered to the Islamic tenet, and not everyone can."

"I dream of going on the pilgrimage because it's something that Moslems have to do once in a lifetime," he said. "But for me it's only a dream because I cannot afford it."

"Unless I won a lottery, of course. But will Allah bless me if I go on the pilgrimage with money from gambling?" (01/swe)