The 'Ojek' Driver: The Ride Continues
The 'Ojek' Driver: The Ride Continues
By Kirk Coningham
The smile split Sharief's face like a melon. He had never been this happy. He had never even known such happiness could exist. He stepped out into the morning sun as another wave of happiness rippled through his system. Everyone who saw Sharief forgot their troubles and joined in his happiness. His smile washed over one and all in a contagious wave that tugged at the smile center of even the grumpiest soul.
Having been aware of Sharief's infatuation for months, they had watched that first night as the pair finally crossed the magical border between "two people" and "couple".
The girl was very beautiful and lived in an apartment of her own. Sharief was her ojek driver. Although his warmth and generosity ensured that he was loved and respected by his community he had convinced himself that his love for the beautiful girl was the stuff of silly dreams.
That was until a rainy night, a willing community, and some luck, conspired to push the pair together under a plastic shelter on Jakarta's bustling streets where they had laughed and talked until dawn.
***
When she arrived at work the Monday after her night-long meeting with Sharief, her friend Dian took one look at Lia and said: "Who is he?" The answer to this simple question niggled at her happiness - but it was like an ant nibbling on a Jack Fruit - nothing so small could take away from her feelings at this moment.
Laughing Lia had replied "'He,' as you put it, is the ojek driver." Lia was dying to tell her friend how wonderful Sharief was. But Dian, who could normally be relied upon for more gossip than work on a Monday morning, did not seem interested.
When Lia had arrived that morning Dian knew instantly that she had met someone. She had to hide her disappointment when Lia said it was just the ojek driver. Talking about Lia's handsome ojek driver had been fun, but Dian now thought the little infatuation was getting out of hand.
A month had passed and her friend's indifference had in no way changed Lia's feelings towards Sharief. Every time she spoke with him, every time she saw him, every time she smelled his skin, she became more convinced that Sharief was the only man for her. She was completely, hopelessly, helplessly, in love.
***
So was Sharief. He had come to see that Lia was more beautiful on the inside than she was on the outside, and she was, by a long, long way, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It wasn't just love's eyes that made him see this way. She was referred too in the village as 'the beautiful girl'.
Unlike Lia's friends, Sharief's friends could not have been happier for him, but there were other little problems and one giant obstacle. The first time Sharief had gone into her apartment he had felt very uncomfortable. Even the delight of being able to hold Lia, and to kiss her, didn't quite overcome his feelings of unease in this unfamiliar environment. He knew her apartment was not large by normal standards, but the space Lia occupied was more than twice the size of his childhood home, which at one point had housed nine of his eleven brothers and sisters as well as his parents and grandmother.
He didn't say anything, but the air conditioner also made him uncomfortable. He was worried that sitting in the cold air for too long would make him sick. Another problem; soft music played, and you could hear it. The place was unnervingly quiet.
Sharief knew that these tiny problems where not even worth thinking about. After a month living in the dream state of love's first bloom, an area of taboo had grown in the silences between their chatter.
Neither had spoken of a future together in any serious way. Sharief feared that discussing it openly may break the spell of their happiness. They were avoiding even acknowledging the single biggest obstacle to their future happiness. Sharief was Muslim and Lia was Christian.
***
Lia sensed that Sharief was not comfortable in her apartment. She had tried to make it an oasis for him, a place of cool comfort in which he could escape the realities of the dirty bustling city that surrounded them. She would turn the air conditioner up, and the music down, and snuggle with him on the couch to help him forget the problems of the world.
It wasn't working. Increasingly they were meeting at Sharief's room. There was nothing at all wrong with the place. Really. It was clean and tidy, perfumed with his scent, and the decorations and his small book collection allowed her an insight into Sharief's life. There were at least 40 rooms that opened out on three floors to communal living and eating areas. Each floor had its own shared bathroom. It was all very clean, but the room was hot and small.
Entering on the ground floor induced a wave of greetings towards her that seemed to wash through the entire building. Sharief was a loved and respected member of the community and this afforded a status to his beautiful girlfriend that Lia would have happily done without.
"Please, sit down," they would chorus in unison. "Have something to drink." It was an instruction, not a question. Lia knew she could not meet Sharief without first going through the ritual of being thoroughly greeted by his friends. Truth be told, she was actually starting to warm to it. At first the sheer numbers and the force of their welcome was a little off putting. Now she could see they were genuinely happy to see her. It felt nice to be so welcomed by so many, but sometimes she did wish for the solitary comfort of her own apartment.
Just as Sharief had not mentioned his discomfort, Lia too kept what she thought of as her inconsequential concerns to herself. Deep in her heart she knew wherever Sharief was, she was meant to be with him.
***
Sharief's practical side, born of survival and honed to a fine edge by life on the streets, finally forced him to confront the obstacle that lay between him and his future happiness.
Nothing had been said, but Sharief had noticed that Lia had stopped wearing her small silver cross. Unlike Sharief, Lia was quite religious. She went to church on Sundays, sometimes taught Sunday school and did all within her power to live her life as a good Christian.
Sharief had been born a Muslim, but had spent very little time in the Mosque. He understood Islam and its teachings of peace and harmony. He was not arrogant enough to think his life was his alone. He understood at a fundamental level that Allah was behind him, helping him find his way.
If he wanted to talk of marriage, of babies, of life together, Sharief was going to have to sacrifice something that was part of him. He could not believe that Allah had made Lia for any other reason other than to be with him for ever. Yet he could not stay a Muslim and marry her.
The local priest was at first surprised, and then delighted, to see Sharief walk boldly through the front doors of his church. That was the only time it was necessary to do so. After that the priest invited Sharief to his home three nights a week to study what was going to become Sharief's new religion.
***
Lia had taken the silver cross that her mother had given her from around her neck. She was in no way denying her Christianity. She loved her religion, but she wanted to live in the bubble a little longer, without the reality of their situation forcing its way in.
But the shadow cast by the problem was starting to cloud her life. She was seeing less of Sharief. He seemed to be avoiding her at night. When they were together he seemed happier than ever, so she did not question his love, but she feared their unspoken problem was already placing its stamp on their happiness. She thought about what she must do and it scared her deeply. Then she thought of life without Sharief, and it terrified her.
She had asked her priest about Islam. He explained that it was a loving and caring path to God. He went on to explain the differences. The more he did, the more Lia was taken with the similarities. "How could this be something that people have actually killed each other over," she wondered, like many before her.
Lia left the church with the Priest's copy of an Indonesian translation of the Koran. She understood from the Priest it was not the same as reading it in Arabic, but she hoped it would give her an insight into the religion to which she had decided she must convert. A friend had also agreed to introduce Lia to the Mullah at a Mosque near her office. Her 12-hour office days were about to get longer.
***
Sharief was worried. It seemed the things that were left unspoken were now making the most noise. He was spending less and less time with Lia. She was working very late most nights and he was working hard while meeting regularly with the priest.
His love for Lia was more intense than ever. When he was with her he bubbled over with happiness, more so now that he had made his decision and they would soon be able to talk about their life together.
She too seemed amazingly happy. It had been three months now and the intensity of the feelings they had for each other continued to grow. Even when she arrived home late into the night the weariness of a long day disappeared from her face as she grinned her happiness at him and anyone else who cared to look.
"It's like she has a secret that she is bursting to tell me," thought Sharief.
***
It had been a big week, a life changing week for both of them. It was Friday night in Lia's apartment and Sharief finally raised the courage to ask Lia to turn down the air conditioner. Lia turned it off with a laugh. "How long have you been waiting to say that?" she said. "For about as long as I haven't been a polar bear," he joked.
This time their laughter could not break the tension in the room. As they so often did, their words rolled over each other. "I have something to tell you," each said in unison.
A quiet laugh again and Lia said, "You first". "No you. Ladies first." Lia didn't say anything as she handed Sharief a small gift wrapped box. "So this is the big surprise she has been hiding," he thought as he carefully removed the ribbon. Lia's silver cross was inside the box.
"So you know," Sharief sighed. "How did I give it away?" "Know what?" Lia was confused. She had given Sharief her precious cross as a symbol of the depth of her love for him. Two days previously she had completed the conversion process and was now officially a Muslim. In her heart she stayed true to God. She had convinced herself that God understood the depth of her commitment to Him and would not judge her on her act of love.
"It doesn't really matter how you worked it out," Sharief said. "All that matters is that you understand I did this for us. I hope I have not angered God, but I will live as a good man, share a wonderful loving life with you and our children and hope this makes God happy."
"What?" Lia was more confused than ever. "You gave me the cross because you know that today I became a Christian," Sharief said.
Lia cried first, then she laughed, then she cried again. She took Sharief in her arms and crushed his face to her own. Sharief started to mix his tears with hers as he realized what had happened.
"Let me guess," he sniffed. "I'm a Christian but you are now a Muslim?"
They laughed and cried again and thanked God for the love He had given them.