I CAN now say I have been there, done that. My sojourn away from the warm busom of Awani has been a huge endeavor, a personal trip of discovery and thoroughly personally fulfilling.

Never can so demanding an assignment be so physically exhausting, mentally draining yet emotionally uplifting as coming to Makkah to cover the haj – and in the process juggling duties to discharge one’s personal religious obligations as well.

At the start, for a journalist, this counts as the mother of all assignments. War correspondents count the scars on their skulls, bullet marks in their hard hats or the close scrapes they encountered in life and death encounters.

Syazwan and his charges at Gala TV wouldn’t trade the number of times they cover Cannes or the Oscars for a million Festival Filem Se Malaya.

Fadzrie at the Sports Desk would exercise right of rank to be in Rio to bear witness to Usain Bolt’s preening and prancing like some prized show stallion in the 100 meter sprint. The world’s audience expect nothing less from him – Usain, not Malaysia’s Husain - huffing and dripping with minimal sweaty exertions as he spends more energy lapping up the plaudits running an animated victory parade after decimating yet another 100 meter field.

And oh..Kam will no doubt consider a one-on-one with Obama, or being invited by Kim Jong Un as higher callings on his agenda

Anyway, the mere mortal that I am, I am keen to report that Alhamdullillah, I have seen the haj, tasted the haj, lived the haj, and believe you me – believe firmly that one cannot find oneself having had one’s fill of the haj.

Alas the same opportunity is well and truly to be considered a non-starter and a repeat assignment should be considered not possible. To push for one could well be the height of greed and personal vainglory. Those amongst us who have been on the trip would dearly want others who have not had the same chance to be given the opportunity to notch one under their belt.

THE SAUDI PSYCHE

Having been “in-country’ for almost two months, I can claim to have some understanding of the psyche of the Saudis who an an indispensable element in the haj. They carry with them an air of being the chosen one. Perhaps only rabidly nationalist Zionists carry this affliction more severely serious in their deeds and treatment of others excluded from their sanctum by not being able to speak Yiddish.

I remember sitting through one Friday sermon (khutbah Jumaat) in my days as a reporter in the southern state of Johor. The khatib (the deliverer of the sermon) will read the du’a (prayer) for the Sultan of the state on pain of – well do you dare say no under the circumstance?.

He would use an overly colourful and elaborate form of regal prose, which included addressing the state sovereign as ruler of all he surveys which covers the entire state as well as all of its conquered lands (jajahan takluk). I know better than to ask myself; “…. surely, a khutbah jumaat is hardly the place nor the occasion to be so atavistically primordial, much less chauvinistic nor domineeringly trenchant? “

But the saving grace is that Johoreans are not so moved by that blue-blooded prayer. Taken to its ultimate conclusion perhaps could have egged on common folk from Pontian to Pagoh to have ideas way above their station. It would be a bit like the obsession Sultan Jamalul Kiram had for Sulu and Sabah which resulted in the sacrifice of lives, a folly which will now forever be buried with him in his grave.

LANGUAGE THE FIRST BAR

Not that this is my observation about Saudi Society. They come across as thoroughly decent, warm and caring human beings. They take pride in the location of Makkah and Madinah and how they find themselves the center of the muslim world because of this.

This comes into focus every year during the haj and to a lesser extent, the umrah which will resume once the last of the Haj crowd leaves King Abdul Aziz International Airport in November.

The first obvious character is their comfort with which they live within their Saudi language skin. Not much allowance is made for non-Arabic speakers, that you are really faced with the regret not having grown up on the sustenance from a Saudi mother’s nurturing milk.

Which explains who the Malaysian haj mission in the country has had to rely upon in order to be able to run its operations to serve the just over 20,000 duyufurrahman (guests of God) during the haj season.

In addition to 600 of its own personnel brought in from Malaysia for the entire period (they may be in-country for up to two months, if not more), Tabung Haji recruits some 200 local contract staff drawn from among the local permanent residents who have ancestral connections with either Indonesia, Pattani or more rarely, Malaysia.

These are individuals who to all intents and purposes are Saudis in name having been born and lived all their lives in Makkah or Madina. Unfortunately, through strict legal interpretation and act of immigration exclusion, they are not wholly claissified as 100% Saudi.

While their command of Malay, Southern Thai or Indonesian language may be south of rusty to almost non-existent, their physical similarity and emotional affinity to the pilgrims who they are serving make them suitable aides to pilgrims from Malaysia as opposed to other locals who may have neither empathy, much less industry to serve travelers to this foreign land.

So Tabung Haji is all set to live with having to rely on their services. More so now there are Malaysian political voices who want to reduce the deployment of Malaysian-imported staff. We shall wait and see, what develops in the name of political expediency.

RAZAK CHIK is counting the days when he boards the flight back to Kuala Lumpur to see for himself how Haj 1434 Hijrah has transformed those he left behind nearly two months ago.