Reality is a question of perspective. Right now, my reality is through the Indonesian perspective. Over two weeks ago, I moved to Malang, a city in East Java, Indonesia. I am learning Bahasa Indonesian here until November. Since I moved here I have been trying to journal everyday so that I can remember the moments I experience in Malang. I am reading my journal entries from my first few days here, which are filled with anxious thoughts. The move to Malang was scary, just like anything new is to someone. Despite the fears that (still) linger within me, I feel that I am where I need to be. Indonesia feels like the stranger I have always wanted to meet. The comfort about Indonesia is that it seems to me to exist as an unknowable mass. It is a country comprised of about 17,000 islands. I doubt I will ever go to all of Indonesia’s islands, but who knows? Maybe, I will.
It seems appropriate to begin this blogpost about my first few days in Indonesia on the Islamic New Year for various reasons. First, Indonesia holds the largest Muslim population in the world. Secondly, and more importantly, the day after my arrival in Malang was one of the most important holidays in Islam. Eid Al-Adha, also known as the “Festival of Sacrifice,” began on Tuesday, August 21 and ended on Wednesday, August 22 this year. Eid Al-Adha represents the story of the willingness Abraham, or Ibrahim, to sacrifice his son for God. When I learned what this holiday represents, I thought about Søren Kierkegaard, and the class I took with one of my mentors. The anxiety of this holiday coincides with Kierkegaard’s urge to understand the anxiety that Abraham must have felt when God tested him to take his only son to the land of Moriah, and offer him as a burnt offering on the mountain. Abraham was faced with two choices — either offer up his son or not offer up his son. Abraham chooses to offer up his son for the hope of happiness from something out there — God. Abraham was conscious of his eternal validity and faith. He acted upon this, but as Abraham begins to comply, a messenger from God interrupts him. Abraham sacrifices a ram instead. Abraham was willing to give up that which he held dearest to him in infinite resignation.
There may be variations to the above mentioned biblical story, but that is the one I know and studied. I could continue writing about this philosophical dilemma, but I will continue writing about my experience witnessing an animal sacrifice. The morning began with morning prayers. I remember this because I woke up to the sound of repetitious prayer and song while the sun was beginning to rise. As much as I enjoy sleeping, it was a beautiful combination of sights and sounds to wake up to that morning. Later in the day, I went to an animal sacrifice for Eid Al-Adha. I did not know what to expect. Friends and I went to a local mosque to participate in watching the animal sacrifices. They welcomed us with open arms and allowed us to watch. I saw red, everywhere, as soon as I entered the mosque. Once the animal sacrifices commenced, I immediately took out my camera to start taking photographs of the festival. I am at the point with photography where taking a picture is almost synonymous with seeing. After I take a photograph of someone or something, I feel as though I have lost or overheard something. Grief is a potential in the chemistry of photography. So much is going in photographs, and so much is going in the photographs I took at the animal sacrifices for Eid Al-Adha. It was hard to watch and hear animals being sacrificed right in front of me. Because of this, I could not bring myself to share more explicit photos, but I genuinely hope none of these photos upset anyone. If you have thoughts or concerns, please feel free to email me at waleskadelsol@gmail.com.
