Holy Prison

PS 6 - First Time Review

One word, crazy. I think he's totally crazy. Why the shame of meeting men who are the same age as us? Well, if it is a shame that is natural, maybe because Farha has feelings for the man, but if you are willing to pull over even though the man is still far away while looking down, it is not natural. I want to curse Farha. Is it a shame to be this weird? Am I back in the 10th century?

“Ber-ener magic lo, for whatever sake because whatever, Argh! Than I hit the crazy as you may mending us directly njai. Mumpung I want.” I said, trying to pull Farha who is still unmoved in her place.

“Ndak want, Ma'am, later wait for his son long ago.” said Farha, stubborn.

I folded my hands in front of my chest again, then looked at the man who was already in front of me furiously. Whatever the strange reason of Farha, but the reason I had to pull over was because of her. Just because of her, I had to stand up, pull over, and wait for her to pass. Just like the president's son, huh.

I hurriedly blocked his path. Our views met. That guy is so handsome. Better than Mario Maurer. However, just by looking at her face alone, I knew she was a bitch. How not, when he saw me, he immediately threw his gaze in the other direction.

Finding such a thing, my blood boiled, and I glared at it. The basic has no ethics. Basic sucks. I feel humiliated, really. I was a model. In Jakarta everyone admired me, no one treated me like this santri man. I'll bet this guy is not normal. Crazy men!

I did not finish cursing him in my heart, the man walked past me without a burden. It's really impolite. Is he secretly afraid of me? Hey, I'm not a ghost. There's no history of ghosts being as beautiful as me. Look, if someday I really become a ghost, the first person I go to is him.

“Cowok nyebelin, stop!” my yelling. However, the man continued his steps.

I was about to chase after her but Farha hurriedly held my hand. Look at it later, he'll fight the consequences. I'm not fooling around, don't call me Nindy if you can't make that proud santri like me.

“Already, Ma'am, it's.” said Farha, now he's not down anymore.

“Can't, Far! Lo look at that. He's not polite! Leasin!” I said. However, this time Farha did not let go of the check.

This time I did. I could only look at the santri from behind. As I was looking at his back, I remembered something. Wait for. I started to rack my brain. I seem to have seen him. Wait, I remember now. He was a male santri who I was about to throw using high heels but did not get hit. I must not be wrong. He is the man who made me enter Umi's house! Oh, I got it. He should have avoided me, I'm sure he knows me.

“Cowok freak! Stopii!” my yelling. This time I struggled. However, Farha held tightly to my hand.

“Do not, Ma'am, men and women who are not mahrams can not be near. Sin, Mbak.” said Farha.

“Eh, anu, Ma'am, sorry, come on Ma'am, we najai.” said Farha switched the conversation.

The debate between me and Farha ended with us going to teach. Farha invited me to a small class that was very different from my class in Jakarta. In this room there is only one small table typical for teaching X-shaped. The table seems to be reserved for ustaz who will teach. While santri sat cross-legged regularly without using a table or chair. We sit regularly so that the santri who sits the very back remains visible to ustaz. I watched the room, there was no AC or fan, but the air in this room was cool. It's weird, but it's comfortable.

“Ustaz Sidiq rawuh!” shouted one of the santri.

O, yes, before me and Farha sat in the corner as was my custom in the old school. This was not actually Farha's will, but because I asked Farha to comply with my request. There is no point in sitting in front. After all, both in my classroom and here I am not the one rank so there is no obligation for me to look for face to the teacher by sitting in front.

Hearing the screams of one of the sisters I immediately turned to look towards Farha, “What did she say? A lake? You know, it's a sale of side dishes?” I was confused with Farha.

“Hahahaha, not Mbak, anu that you know what yes, rawuh that Javanese means come. So, anu, it means the ustaz has come.” said Farha.

Hearing Farha's automatic answer I scratched my head that did not itch, what else I said. For a moment it felt strange, scratching my head because I only realized that I used cream-colored mucus. It's weird, and it scares me a little. Please explain, this isn't convenient, is it?

When I was busy thinking about the no-no, accidentally my eyes caught one of the students who was whispering, then to make sure something I circulated my gaze in all directions. And sure enough, the average person whispered while looking at me. I began to realize that I was the fruit of their lips. I can't conclude that they're all gossiping about my ugliness. Because all their responses when they saw me were different, there were friendly smiles, there were eyes sparkling like the first time they saw a beautiful person, there was a cynic looking at me, and some looked at me in disbelief. All various. However, of the many santriwati, more sparkled to see my beauty.

In my heart I was a little flattered by my own judgment. I guess, they must have never seen a woman as beautiful as me. Just look, my skin is whiter than anyone else in this class, don't ask my face, obviously much different. Actually, there is little that I am confused here, in Jakarta I was not the whitest woman among my friends, why in this pesantren I am so contrasting? Though I'll bet they never travel like I did in Jakarta.

Not long after, The Ustaz came.

“As-salamu ‘alaikum.” greetings Sang Ustaz.

All the santriwati (other than me) answered her greetings with a longer one, as Umi often did when I said greetings at her house. Maybe this is their tradition, always say a short greeting and return the most complete greetings possible. This is just my estimation, purely from my observations while here.