3 Love
Chapter 5. Introductions
It was quite difficult for me to understand the language of Java, at first I heard the language of Java felt like the language of china. It is difficult to say it and feels very fast in pronunciation.
To establish familiarity we also play with new friends by exchanging banjar and Javanese language lessons in the style of goyonan.
Linda is in the next camp, and 1 Salma goes into our camp. The game goes on.
"Your form is elegant" said linda taught by her Javanese friends. And they laughed with linda's accent that was not suitable to call it.
Then Salma interpreted it to us, then salma we taught banjar and dayak languages.
"kaaam peeengeeeramput! ikam pengamput! " salma says. And we laughed too.
We throw each other scornful sentences to joke around, but no one gets offended. We are getting closer too.
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Our activities are 5 tadarus Qur'an every morning afternoon, evening learning tajwid, night memorizing. After the morning prayer nyetor rote, morning until noon free, and the sorenya repeat the rote at dawn. The activity keeps repeating itself every day.
In this pesantren abuya has a canteen and there are wartels as well. I remember calling my mother. I put a coin to call my mom.
Tuuuttt....
Tuuuttt....
Sound connected my phone.
"Yes, hello, with whom? " A woman's voice is heard on the phone.
"Halo assalamuailakum's. It's with zahra ma'am hamdah's son. May I speak to hamdah ma'am" I replied.
"Waalaikum salam. Zahra. Yes, wait ya. Mother call her mother" silent for a while....
"hello, zahra." my mother's voice was heard.
I shed tears when I heard my mother's voice and I told her at length, shedding my longing.
Without me noticing anyone watching me from the side wartel room. Because the wall of the wartel is made of glass. So that they can freely look. He looked at me without blinking.
Someone noticed, I looked to the left. And it turns out that I was looking at a man with a black sneak pecker, probably around 23-25 years old.
He looked at me still holding the phone and smiled at me. I was also blushing and misbehaving. Then turn my eyes the other way and focus on talking to my mother again.
After I finished calling, I also shopped stationery and sat down to accompany the ukhti who was guarding the bag.
While joking around with the dikantin, the man came up to us.
"I bought the polpen nis, how much? " he said hello to anis who was guarding the bag and while glancing at me.
"Who's nis? " Half whispered with anis and while glancing at me who pretended not to hear.
"Ooh zahra tadz, the new sampeyan is coming so don't know there's a new santriwati. He is from kalimantan tadz. 1 Year program "word ukhti anis.
"Zahra, come here! " said ukhti anis.
I fell apart when Anis called me, and I stood beside the man he called ustadz. Because it is behind the glass cabinet.
"Why ukhti? " answer me.
"Oh this is ustadz want to know you. I know tadz...zahra." said ukhti anis with a smile, and it made me a little embarrassed.
"Oh yes tadz, know me nabela zahra. Called zahra only" I said formally without shaking hands, because I know not muhrim and anyways he ustadz. Surely understand all of that.
"Yes, greetings too. Just call me Furqan. Muhammad Furqan" he said with a smile and pulled out a book.
"This is the book you want to borrow" while presenting the book to ukhti anis.
"Thank you tadz, borrow first." said ukhti anis girang, it's a kind of book of knowledge about Islam.
"Do you like to read Zahra? " tanya ustadz furqan.
"Lumayan tadz." I said quietly with a smile.
Then continued the light conversation about the book, just a small talk. After that he left. I went to the dormitory to get ready for the water. I also passed in front of the parrot closet. Nuri is crossing 1 date on her calendar with a marker.
"354 days..." Say him.
"Why nuri, what else? " ask him.
"We've been here 354 days za, soon we go home" he said.
"Don't be too calculated nur, just go. That's how it feels." My advice to him. He looked at me without answering my advice. And I returned it with a smile.
After that I immediately ablaze and prepare to go to musholla. I wear gloves and mukena. Then I went with another friend.
Arriving at the door of the musholla I turned out to cross with ustadz furqan. And he smiled sweetly at me while justifying his black peci. His face was wet with water droplets dripping onto the shirt. His sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
I smiled and lowered my head. There was a feeling of shame when he stared at her for a long time. Because recently I was close or cross paths with men. I'm used to women only.
We also prayed, Abuya came with his wife. But after hearing from that voice. I'm sure it wasn't the sound of his ashes being a priest like always. My curiosity also rippled.
"Ukhti, who is the priest? Like not the voice of abuya. "ask me to the santriwati next to me.
"Oh that's ustadz furqan. He just came from college "he said, explaining.
"Ooo ustadz furqan" I remembered, he was the one who was introduced to me by ukhti anis. It turns out that his voice is soft and melodious. It was beautiful when he chanted the holy verse of the Qur'an.
After the prayer, we prepared to return to the dormitory and prepare for the tadarus with the ustadzah in class.
We rushed, when walking home it turns out that there are many santri sitting together with ustadz as well. Right next to the mosque on the road to the direction of the dormitory santriwati. I also lowered my face. Because I'm ashamed.
"Kalimantan kids ayu-ayu ya bagas. " Said one of the students.
" I like the lambe
brother, uassliii kanya. Mm mm... Meronaa.." said one santri again.
"Husstttt, let's go to class everyone. " Say the voice of the man who made them disperse.
Then they cheered too. "Huuuu.... Bla bla bla. "
Maybe the loud one was he ustadz, I thought back. I only heard their words, and afterwards did not hear anymore because I accelerated my footsteps. I feel so ashamed.
After the incident, the children of the borneo gathered.
"You just heard what the santri boys were talking about! " said aya.
"Yes listen" said Nuri.
"lambene brother what does it mean" asked linda puzzled.
" his lips are red" said ukhti anis.
"Wuissss turns out someone likes zahra! " say linda.
"Those lips are red! " say linda.
"Aahhh ga ah "I am ashamed.
Indeed, my lips are often mistaken for lipstick, even though my lips are actually red.
Finally they concluded, the one who was tempted at that time was me.
