I woke to the high-pitched buzz of a mosquito so loud that it must have been bouncing off my eardrum. Sitting up with a start my nerves were slowly soothed by a deep resonating voice that reverberated against the windows and called me outside in bare feet to explore.  I quickly realized that the ‘morning prayer’ was not actually right outside my door, but rather projected through loud speakers by the two Muslim mosques that surround my gem of a hotel. Luckily, I enjoy waking early and was intrigued by this religion I know so very little about. A large group of well dressed women, all wrapped like fresh spring rolls, in delicate fabrics varying from simple blacks to ornate accent fabrics of red, gold, and orange were climbing into minivans literally parked in front of my door. Considering their proximity and the hour, just after 4:30 am, I felt completely comfortable observing them file in to the back seat with more grace than I have ever experienced on my best day. 

I used to wonder if Muslim men ever got to see their bride prior to marriage, and I would silently think how different those relationships must start considering most dating in America doesn’t go past the cursory glance unless there is some primal physical attraction. Their completely understated cocoon peeled away only in one slight slit above the bridge of their nose revealing captivating deep eyes, and I realized that eyes, when not distracted by any other features, are amazing! I couldn’t take my gaze away from each of them seeing both beauty and personality reflected so subtly with a glance, a blink, or a downward gaze.  With no disrespect intended, as I know the traditional dress is to remain conservative, I can imagine the same primal urges being present in these highly spiritual men in the same fashion as American boys respond to half-dressed, miniskirt, cami-wearing youth in the states. (side note: I did find out that Muslims do get to see each others faces prior to marrying. It usually occurs in the woman’s home with her parents present.)

Interestingly, at 4:30ish in the morning with a bustling group on their way to begin one of five prayer ceremonies of the day, I meet an English speaking man (At the time I was pretty sure he was the only one in Bogor) who was glad to educate me on some of their traditions. Unlike Bali, where the majority of the population is Hindu, 90% of Javanese are Muslim. It was interesting that he seemed very concerned that I know that Muslims are very kind and spiritual people, “they no bomb or hurt, pray a lot…5 times every day.”  What was even more interesting is that, since this morning, I have talked with 3 English-speaking individuals on separate occasions and they all felt it important to educate me on the gentle nature of their people and religion, “9-1-1 very no often.” Once I realized he wasn’t referring to our emergency services and rather the twin towers, I reassured him that not all Americans disliked Muslims, which seemed to be what he was asking. I also told him that there are many Muslims living within the US in which he responded wide eyed, “ohhhhh, very kind people.” I wasn’t sure if he meant the Americans or the Muslims, but I nodded and said, “yes” referring to both.

I am often humbled when I travel. I am intentionally ignorant of most politics and current events back home, my excuse being that I am a nurse in a high acuity trauma center and I see enough ‘real life’ in my daily work. Unfortunately, when I visit places with little tourism I feel like I am expected to speak for my entire country.  Their eyes search mine, they hang on my every word, and they think that I speak and believe the same as every other American in the country…and frankly, I am the last person anyone would want as a spokes person! I try to explain that the US is ‘very very big’, but with the language barrier I am pretty sure they think I’m just calling all Americans ‘fat’. So, my apologies to all you skinny-minnies, and please forgive my misrepresentation.