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.