Way Home
62. where?

It is mushala. Some ABKs are still there, but most have left. Some take a shower, some have dinner, some continue the rest of their duties. Huda on the bridge held the steering wheel, replace it with Dasim who is now praying. After the prayer, he greeted Hazri and then left the others went along to leave. Alone Hazri is now, permeating the martyrdom of what she just experienced during the prayer. “Allah...,” muttered repeatedly.

“He, how dumb?” hello Huda suddenly.

Hazri sighed “Ago just want..” she replied. He looked at the bridge, Dasim has returned to being the skipper. “No fatigue Dasim hold the wheel continuously?”

“Strong him. Ever up to three days two nights.”

“Jago also yes..,” comments Hazri,

“You got coffee?” Huda asked.

“By.” Although actually do not like coffee, but from earlier Hazri see coffee like a mandatory drink on this ship. Everybody's copying.

“Common, request coffee two to Cak Nardi. That's delicious..”.

The comic nodded and immediately went into the kitchen.

“Hud, do you think God is looking at us now?” ask Hazri slowly.

“lyalah. It should be so,” replied Huda steady.

Hazri. “Where the hell is Allah?”

Huda. “This is a difficult question. Honestly, Rif, don't know me. There is, somewhere. Ustadz says, in Arsy.”

Hazri mangosteen again. Know him that ‘kabar’ that God dwells in Arsy, His throne. Even though twelve years of sharia, but first the value of Hazri religious lessons was good. His prayers, his fasts, and his salary are also good. Ustadz Faishol, his teacher, often praised him. Only, for some reason suddenly now he felt the need to know more deeply than just the news. Arsh Allah, what and where is this throne?

“Coffee, coffee, coffee...,” Huda exclaims glad to see Komeng coming to bring her ordered coffee. “Kok three?”

Cengar-cengar. “Nitip one, Mr. Haji. After Cak Nardi if making coffee for Pak Haji is delicious.”

Huda laughed. “Can you...,” He dropped off two cups of coffee, for her and for Hazri. “Already, thanks, Komeng. Quickly finish your coffee, later robbed your friends if caught.”

Komeng. He also moved while somewhat hiding his coffee glass.

Hazri sips. True said Komeng, this coffee is delicious. Like the one in Fahmi's study. “Nak, Hud. What coffee is this?”

“Hahaha... If I told you, sure you still want to drink?” huda fishing line.

“Keep, yummy gini” Hazri sipped back his coffee.

Huda laughed. “This is Luwak coffee. Know not civet?”

Hazri.

“Musang. Language Java.”

Hazri. “What does the weasel have to do with coffee?”

“Akrab...,” Huda laughs again. “Musang does like to eat coffee beans, but it is not digested because it is hard. Yes, it is, again, diprocotin. Keep procotannnya taken people. Cumulated, doped.... Be this coffee.”

“You mean diprocorin what?”

“Hahaha.... Diprocotin yes diprocotin..”.

“Buskey. So this is Hud's prototype?” Hazri looked at the coffee.

Huda did not answer, laughing.

Hazri looked at her coffee, hesitating it seemed. Understandably, all this time he was not a fan of coffee. Just know now about Luwak coffee which is actually already famous in the world of the marriage.

“Have a drink, a drink. ... Clean,” said Huda at the end of the laughter.

Huda sipped his hot boozy coffee, delicious as it looked. Even with his head bobble, Hazri sipped as well. And, a moment later he had forgotten all the procotan. It's too good to drink....

While enjoying coffee, they talked again. Still revolves around the matter of ‘where Allah’ and the like. Huda mostly shook his head, unable to answer Hazri's questions because he did not know.

“If it is Most Fair, why do you taste I am bitter?” ask Hazri.

“Who said I'm good?” object Huda.

“Taste is bad? Delicious...”.

“That would seem, originally people didn't know.”

Huda grimacing. “Enhanced by..”.

“So, how about? Fair nope?” Hazri.

“Adil. The stakes are fair, period.”

Huda still grimaced, Hazri grinned

“Terus. Hud, about ‘closer than urate neck it’ how?”

“It's been ah, confused me. We pray only...” invite Huda. Some ABKs come to Mushala to pray isya’. “In the room there are religious books, read by yourself. Who knows if you'll find the answer.”

“Which side?”

“In desk drawer.”

Hazri nodded. They also moved to take water again, feeling that the wudhu that had been canceled.

Huda became a priest again at this congregational prayer isya’. The sensation of taste like that experienced when the Maghrib prayer again whack Hazri. Although not as dramatic as the first, but still flowing syahdu into the recesses of his heart.

Hazri long ago fell asleep after the prayer. Alone, accompanied by waves that are not visible in the darkness of the night. Huda has returned to the bridge. Many times Hazri took a deep breath, trying to live out the existence of the God she had just worshiped. Where God is, has not been answered. However, even this form of calm slowly revealed the veil of anxiety that had been black for so long. “Allah..,” he sighed softly. A single tear was allowed to roll, sending a glimmer of longing for Him.

Hazri let out a long sigh once again, then glanced at her watch that was purchased in Semarang with HP a few days ago. Eleven o'clock in the evening, which meant that he was sitting there for almost four hours. Hazri looked up at the bridge, Huda was nowhere to be seen, Dasim too, who was holding the wheel of another ABK. Curious, Hazri went to the bridge.

Seeing the appearance of Hazri, ABK introduced himself. Hazri does not know all the names of ABK here, except Dasim, Komeng, and Cak Nardi.

“I Muklis, Sir..,” he introduced himself.

Hazri welcomes his hand. “Haji Pack to where?”

“Have slept. It was going to Mr. Arif, but it might be seen that Mr. Arif was happy to be alone and not so. Straight to the cabin,” Muklis replied.

Dasim who was sleeping there woke up. He also greeted Hazri.

“Forward, Sim, let me be with Muklis,” said Hazri.

Dasim nodded, he continued his sleep.

Not sleepy, they talk too. Hazri asks to be taught to drive a boat. Muklis did not mind, so learn Hazri to him. Two hours, three hours.... Not too hard turned out. It feels like driving a car, just looking a lot into the GPS screen, not forward. Do not use the clutch, the gas just push up and pant there. Hazri mangosteen understand, the important navigation, speed, and alertness avoid the coral and sneak ships along the flow of the waves. Plus one more, the captain's stamina. That'sthat's all.

By dawn, Hazri was already quite good at piloting this ship. Only, it turns out that the coffee that Muklis brewed for Hazri far away tastes with the previous one. It seems like the procotan class is not for ABK. Deserve the Comic drooling.

Thinking of Komeng when Hazri saw Komeng emerge from ABK's cabin. Walk to mushala while drowsy. He made a mat, took ablution, and then proclaimed the Adhan. “Allabu Akbar's... Allaaaaaahu Akbaaar. The dawn prayer time arrived. Hazri returns the rudder of the ship to Muklis, then rushes down to Mushala.

Shocked Comic sees Hazri already sitting in mushala, after the Adhan. “Not sleeping, Sir?” she asked.

Hazri. “Nungguin you adzan..,” kilah him with a smile.

The comic smiled too.

Some ABKs appeared later, not all of them. After waiting for a while, the iqamat was chanted. The morning prayers will begin soon. Hazri refuses when asked to become a priest, so Dasim advances. He's the most senior ABK. The congregational dawn prayers were also carried out smoothly. Hazri let out a long sigh after Dasim closed his prayer. Incredibly, he bowed three times last night after all these years of smoothly neglecting him....

“Kok not all prayers, Meng?” Hazri asks Komeng who is rolling one of the mats.

“The Rules, Mr. Haji. That should be prayer maghrib only. The others can be alone,” Komeng replied. “Can be angry Mr. Hag if there is a maghrib not worshipers except skipper.”

“Ow is so yes..” Hazri. Some ABK he saw appeared and took ablution water for prayer. “Live work out dawn prayer?” Hazri asked again.

“No, sir, just relax. When you are sailing, there is not much work. Most open the same screen clean-up. If again a lot of work. Ordinary, loading and unloading goods.”

Hazri mangosteen again. His eyes began to fall asleep. “OK, Meng, happy relaxing yes.., I want to rest first” he said as he moved on.

“Iya, Sir. Please” Komeng mesem.

Hazri's headed for her cabin. He saw that Huda was still sleeping on his stomach wearing a shirtless sarong. Snoring. Hazri lay down on the other bed. Not long after the snoring race also took place crowded in the cabin. Unnoticed by both participants....

Secuil Coffee

A sailor is a person who works on a ship as part of its crew, and can work in any of a number of different fields related to the operation and maintenance of a ship. This includes all the people who work on board. In addition, it is often also called the Son of the Ship or ABK. To be able to work on board a ship, a sailor must have a special certificate of seaborne issued by a maritime agency.

The seafaring profession has long existed, and the term sailor has its etymological origins at a time when sailing ships were the main mode of transportation at sea since antiquity. But now the term refers to any person working on any type of ship as a mode of transportation, and includes people who operate the ship professionally or recreationally, be it for the military navy or merchant ships fleet.