philosufi

La-bike Allahumma La-bike: Spinning to Salvation

Left: Starting off in Cape Town with some well-wishers; Right: Arriving in Mecca

Get on your bike and ride. It's something almost everyone has learned to do. For some people, the thrill of first riding their bike at four or five years old faded after a few years, and sadly, dimmed to zero once they got their first car. For others, it just keeps getting more fun. When I'm on my bike and working, pushing to get up a hill, I know I've earned that rush down the other side. If you're driving, you just simply can't appreciate the land – the whole environment – in the same way. (Drivers, think what you will, but you cyclists know exactly what I mean.)

A bunch of years ago, some friends and I got on our bikes and rode from Toronto to Vancouver over the course of the summer. It was an amazing trip of almost 5,300 km  (3312 miles) that took two and a half months, and ultimately took me to the land of great coffee and my own little rebirth. Man, oh man, did we see Canada, and it's still a significant milestone/accomplishment in my life. But this is an altogether different thing.

One day, South Africans Nathim Cairncross, 28, and Imtiyaz Ahmad Haron, 25, were throwing ideas at each other. One stuck: What if they were to bicycle from their home in Cape Town to Mecca for Hajj? Yeah, you read that right. An idea so simple and yet so awesome you wish you'd thought of it yourself. Like any crazy idea, there's excitement because although it might be crazy, it's not impossible. So they did it. They got on their bikes and rode. And they even made it early for Hajj.

Almost 11,000 km (6875 miles). 12 countries. Nine months. Not all of it going as planned.

The trek to Mecca requires you to rally your Clark Kent self and turn into a hero. That iron horse is only powered by your huffing. With enough time, you can power your way up the Rocky Mountains or K2, and not be surly about it. Eventually you will triumph, maybe even reaching Utopia.

(That was more work than I thought it would be…)

The Cape 2 Mecca Cycle (C2MC) blog is a bit sparse in terms of stories, but hey, Hajj just ended, so I suspect they'll be writing a lot more very soon. They do have a Facebook page and a whole lotta pictures!

Cairncross and Haron started riding February 7 and made it into Saudi Arabia in late October, well in advance of Hajj, and were welcomed by powerful storms, thunder, and lightning. Their story impressed and inspired many people along their route, which included friendly people in South Africa, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Malawi, Tanzania, and Kenya. They were stymied by petty functionaries with clipboards at the Ethiopian border, forcing them to fly to Turkey and continue the trip southward from there through Syria, Israel, Jordan, then finally Saudi Arabia. (My map above includes some of the cities they named and capitals of some countries. It's not their official map.) Luckily, the Tabuk People of the Clipboards (in Jordan) restored the reputation of the Clan of the Clipboards. Cairncross and Haron's story impressed three generals enough that they expedited their visas and gave them food and shelter for the night. Rock on border guards!

It's a huge undertaking. There's no other way to think about it. One of the many similarities between their trip and mine was the sheer power of having a goal, not really having a good idea of what you're getting into, but doing it anyway. And once you realize you're in, there's no turning back. Another was people calling them crazy. Yet another was wonderful people along the way who would help in so many ways – food, lodging, or even just moral support by riding alongside. You get to talk to everybody, and discover their stories and dreams when you're travelling on a bike. It's just different from other forms of travel.

The journey to Hajj, by its history and nature, has always been a long and arduous one, filled with struggle and danger. Many people have died en route over hundreds of years, and many more during the Hajj itself. No doubt the danger continues during the return home. (These two still don't know how they're getting home yet – they're discussing donations on their Facebook page.) It's not like there's no struggle nowadays, but getting on a plane in Toronto and landing in Jeddah 15 hours later is a significantly different level of challenge. (Shortest flight I could find.)

In an interview with Al Jazeera, Cairncross voiced a feeling that I share, and which first became truly meaningful for me during my own bike trip:

"If I work very hard for something, at the end of the day it's sweeter; I value it more. After nine months [cycling] through Africa and the Middle East – of course, I value it more."

We've also said another thing in common (although I never said it to the BBC): "It was a life-changing experience. I would definitely do it again."

Silat Kalam: A Martial Art for a Religion of Peace

When I was growing up, the martial arts absolutely captivated me. I started with judo in junior high, some jiu-jutsu in early high school, then Shotokan karate for the next few years, simultaneously practicing other martial arts with my friends. I even taught karate and basic self-defence for quite a while. A smidge of aikido and hapkido got me through the start of university, then the martial arts practice waned as my priorities changed. Quite a few years went by, and I eventually joined a Goju-Ryu karate dojo for a couple of years until priorities changed again.

One problem I had to deal with throughout all those experiences? The bowing. In Islam, of course, we bow only to God, and bowing toward anyone or anything else is considered inappropriate. In the martial arts though, bowing is the alpha and the omega of every interaction and the class itself. What to do?

A large part of it is simply perspective. The Islamic Weltanschauung (can you tell I've been in Deutschland this past week and a half?) interprets bowing as demonstrating subservience and acknowledging dependence on the other party. In the Asian martial arts, the root cultures can interpret bowing as a sign of respect, not subservience. But perception is reality, right? What are Muslims supposed to work with: their own interpretation, or that of the host environment? Go with your own, and it's seen as a sign of disrespect to the host environment. Go with the host environment, and you're perceived as disrespecting God.

All of this would have been allayed however, if I could have practiced Silat Kalam, a Muslim martial art. Silat is a full martial art, with Islam at its core, and originates in Malaysia. In a widely published piece by Antontio Graceffo, the first non-Muslim permitted to study the art, he quotes Guru (teacher, master) Mazlan Man:

Silat Kalam is a martial art where you never use a lot of force or movement, and each movement is based on the position of the prayers, the position of where you pray to God.

I breathe because of God. I drink because of God. I eat because of God. I practice Silat because of God, he concluded. This is a portion of the mantra which Guru Mazlan Man has his students recite daily. He explained his philosophy this way. We must remember that we only do things because of God. And if we only do things because of God, we will not do bad things. You cannot say, I steal because of God.

Instead of bowing to start the class, hands start in prayer positions, and a short series of dua'as (prayers of supplication) is recited. Silat is a completely defensive art, and all movements (buah) start with an opponent's attack. There are blocks, locks, throws, grappling, and inescapable holds. (Assuming you want to keep your body intact.) All blocks are followed by strikes which are designed to cause maximum pain for a brief period of time. The goal is to have your opponent lose the will to fight. To guarantee an end to the conflict, a strike is followed by a throw or lock. When that opponent is locked up, well, good-bye Mr. Chips.

Graceffo is the well-known Brooklyn Monk who quit Wall Street to travel extensively throughout the Far East and study various martial arts. He's also put quite a bit of time and effort into learning six languages and defending the people of Burma and Cambodia against their governments. His story is fascinating; do check it out, and enjoy his Martial Arts Odyssey video library too.

For those of you interested in studying Silat Kalam, there really aren't a lot of places to go. You'll have to contact Guru yourself. He takes only a few students, so best of luck on that.

I'd like to leave you with a quote from the video below. When Graceffo, a Catholic, asks Guru whether he can study under him, Guru (who is Muslim) responds "we don't talk about religion, we only talk about God. If we talk about God, everybody's happy. It's only when we talk about religion people get angry." Now there's a guy who gets it. (If you're having trouble with the Flash below, click here instead.)