Darren HanlonLast night in Sydney,

Darren Hanlon
Last night in Sydney, deeply engrossed in a newspaper, I missed my bus stop by a long shot. I looked up to see a neighbourhood I didn't recognise so I dinged the bell and was deposited outside a brightly lit Ferrari dealership.

I called an Uber and it found me there within minutes and me being jaded by cunning detouring cab drivers of the past I insisted my driver use the GPS.

"Ok," he said broad-smiling and tapped the screen, "but GPS, for all it's technology, does not have human common sense. Sometimes I shake my head at it."

I sunk down in the seat and we settled into the usual small talk, his shift hours and workload. I commented on new construction we passed on the site of my favourite old auction house. Sydney is changing fast he told me. Like everywhere I said sounding like a boring old crony. He was from India he said and knew the area well. I looked over and could see even with him sitting down he was small framed, his chin almost in line with the top of the steering wheel.

"Speaking of human common sense," he said bringing it back to the GPS, " I can't understand these who go around killing other people... in cold blood."

Although it's been on everyone's mind today it was still an abrupt shift. He'd dovetailed it into the conversation as if he'd been waiting to. I recognised the moment that sometimes happens in the driver/passenger relationship where the banal switches to the deeply personal, the freedom allowed strangers who are trapped in a finite time period together. I straightened myself in my seat.

"I'm a Muslim," he said almost as a confession, "and this is not what I was taught as a child."

I just sat quietly and listened. It felt like he needed to talk. He said he was praying at a mosque in Zetland when he got my ride request. He'd been praying for most of the day.

"These people say they act under the name of Islam. I've studied religion, theology. The etymology of the word Islam comes from a word that means Peace."

He told me how one of his teachers had explained to him that people will angle teachings of the Koran to reflect their own needs. The finance banker will use certain lines to justify his actions, just as the jihadist will do the same. We talked about how many other religious faiths have been exploited too. I looked over to see him wipe tears from his eyes.

"Doesn't the Koran have a basic law... like the Bible... that says Thou Shalt Not Kill?" I asked.

"Of course!" he exclaimed, "The second highest law says that if you kill a single soul it's like killing the soul of all humanity. If you save a single soul, you save all humanity."

We'd reached our destination, just off King St, but still we sat in the car and talked (he turned the meter off!). Light rain sprinkled the windscreen as we watched the Saturday night revellers stream across the intersection. It felt like we were two cops, from different walks of life, on a movie stakeout.

He quoted Koran verses often brandished by fundamentalists, robbed of their ancient historical context. We mourned the victims in Paris. We mourned the young martyrs whose minds have been brainwashed. "It appeals to their child fantasies," he said. We searched for some kind of coda that could send us both on our ways.

I tried lamely with, "Well, it's just something we all have to accept as part of our lives now."

"What were your first thoughts when you heard the news this morning?" he asked.

"Well to be honest, even though I knew they were all safe, I thought of my own family. And friends," I said striving for a better answer, "I felt devastated for the people involved in Paris. But always in a tragedy I feel a kind of worry for my family and friends."

"That's a value of life!" he said, "That's love! That is the only defence!"

We were both okay to end on that. I closed the door of the car and rushed off to my waiting meal with some of those dear friends. "I just had an emotional Uber experience," I told them, and my mind kept returning to it for the rest of the night. And now today I didn't wanna write this as some kind of statement. I just want to tell you about my brief random conversation with a sad Muslim Sydney Uber driver, whose religion is being taken from him.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

Darren HanlonLast night in Sydney, deeply engrossed in a newspaper, I missed my bus stop by a long shot. I looked up to see a neighbourhood I didn't recognise so I dinged the bell and was deposited outside a brightly lit Ferrari dealership. I called an Uber and it found me there within minutes and me being jaded by cunning detouring cab drivers of the past I insisted my driver use the GPS. "Ok," he said broad-smiling and tapped the screen, "but GPS, for all it's technology, does not have human common sense. Sometimes I shake my head at it."I sunk down in the seat and we settled into the usual small talk, his shift hours and workload. I commented on new construction we passed on the site of my favourite old auction house. Sydney is changing fast he told me. Like everywhere I said sounding like a boring old crony. He was from India he said and knew the area well. I looked over and could see even with him sitting down he was small framed, his chin almost in line with the top of the steering wheel. "Speaking of human common sense," he said bringing it back to the GPS, " I can't understand these who go around killing other people... in cold blood."Although it's been on everyone's mind today it was still an abrupt shift. He'd dovetailed it into the conversation as if he'd been waiting to. I recognised the moment that sometimes happens in the driver/passenger relationship where the banal switches to the deeply personal, the freedom allowed strangers who are trapped in a finite time period together. I straightened myself in my seat. "Saya seorang Muslim," katanya hampir sebagai pengakuan, dan ini adalah bukan apa yang diajarkan sebagai anak."Aku hanya duduk diam dan mendengarkan. Rasanya seperti dia perlu untuk berkata. Dia mengatakan dia berdoa di sebuah masjid di Zetland ketika ia mendapat permintaan perjalanan saya. Dia sudah berdoa untuk sebagian besar hari."Orang-orang ini mengatakan mereka bertindak atas nama Islam. Saya telah mempelajari agama, teologi. Etimologi kata Islam berasal dari kata itu berarti perdamaian." Dia bercerita bagaimana salah satu gurunya telah menjelaskan kepadanya bahwa orang akan sudut ajaran Al-Quran untuk mencerminkan kebutuhan mereka sendiri. Bankir keuangan akan menggunakan baris-baris tertentu untuk membenarkan tindakan, seperti jihad akan melakukan hal yang sama. Kami berbicara tentang berapa banyak agama telah dieksploitasi terlalu. Aku menoleh untuk melihatnya menghapus air mata dari mata. "Tidak Quran memiliki hukum dasar... seperti Alkitab... yang mengatakan Janganlah engkau membunuh?" Saya bertanya."Tentu!" dia berseru, "kedua tertinggi hukum mengatakan bahwa jika Anda membunuh jiwa seperti membunuh jiwa dari seluruh umat manusia. Jika Anda menyimpan jiwa, Anda menyimpan seluruh umat manusia." Kami telah mencapai tujuan kami, hanya off King St, tapi masih kami duduk di dalam mobil dan berbicara (dia dimatikan meteran!). Hujan ringan ditaburi kaca depan sebagai kita menyaksikan aliran kami Sabtu malam di persimpangan. Rasanya seperti berada di dua polisi, dari berbagai lapisan masyarakat, di film pengintaian. He quoted Koran verses often brandished by fundamentalists, robbed of their ancient historical context. We mourned the victims in Paris. We mourned the young martyrs whose minds have been brainwashed. "It appeals to their child fantasies," he said. We searched for some kind of coda that could send us both on our ways. I tried lamely with, "Well, it's just something we all have to accept as part of our lives now.""What were your first thoughts when you heard the news this morning?" he asked. "Well to be honest, even though I knew they were all safe, I thought of my own family. And friends," I said striving for a better answer, "I felt devastated for the people involved in Paris. But always in a tragedy I feel a kind of worry for my family and friends." "That's a value of life!" he said, "That's love! That is the only defence!" We were both okay to end on that. I closed the door of the car and rushed off to my waiting meal with some of those dear friends. "I just had an emotional Uber experience," I told them, and my mind kept returning to it for the rest of the night. And now today I didn't wanna write this as some kind of statement. I just want to tell you about my brief random conversation with a sad Muslim Sydney Uber driver, whose religion is being taken from him.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 2:

Darren Hanlon
malam terakhir di Sydney, sangat asyik di koran, aku rindu saya berhenti bus oleh tembakan panjang. Aku mendongak untuk melihat lingkungan saya tidak mengenali sehingga saya berbunyi bel dan diendapkan di luar Ferrari dealer terang benderang. Saya disebut Uber dan menemukan saya ada dalam beberapa menit dan saya sedang letih oleh licik detouring driver taksi dari masa lalu Aku bersikeras sopir saya menggunakan GPS. "Ok," katanya luas tersenyum dan mengetuk layar, "tapi GPS, untuk semua itu teknologi, tidak memiliki akal sehat manusia. Kadang-kadang aku menggeleng itu." Aku tenggelam ke bawah di kursi dan kami menetap ke dalam pembicaraan kecil biasa, jam pergeseran dan beban kerja. Saya mengomentari konstruksi baru kami melewati di lokasi rumah lelang tua favorit saya. Sydney berubah cepat dia mengatakan kepada saya. Seperti di tempat saya katakan terdengar seperti kroni membosankan. Dia dari India katanya dan tahu daerah baik. Aku menoleh dan bisa melihat bahkan dengan dia duduk dia kecil dibingkai, dagunya hampir sejalan dengan bagian atas roda kemudi. "Berbicara tentang akal sehat manusia," katanya membawanya kembali ke GPS, "saya bisa ' t memahami ini yang pergi berkeliling membunuh orang lain ... dengan darah dingin. "Meskipun sudah pada setiap orang pikiran hari itu masih pergeseran tiba-tiba. Dia dovetailed ke percakapan seolah-olah dia telah menunggu untuk. Aku mengakui saat itu kadang-kadang terjadi pada driver hubungan / penumpang di mana switch dangkal dengan sangat pribadi, kebebasan diperbolehkan asing yang terjebak dalam periode waktu yang terbatas bersama-sama. Aku menegakkan diri di kursi saya. "Saya seorang Muslim," katanya hampir sama pengakuan, "dan ini bukan apa yang diajarkan sebagai seorang anak." Saya hanya duduk diam dan mendengarkan. Rasanya seperti dia perlu bicara. Dia mengatakan dia sedang berdoa di sebuah masjid di Zetland sesampainya permintaan saya naik. Dia sudah berdoa untuk sebagian besar hari. "Orang-orang ini mengatakan mereka bertindak atas nama Islam. Saya telah mempelajari agama, teologi. Etimologi dari kata Islam berasal dari kata yang berarti Perdamaian." Dia mengatakan kepada saya bagaimana salah seorang guru telah menjelaskan kepadanya bahwa orang akan ajaran sudut Quran untuk mencerminkan kebutuhan mereka sendiri. Bankir keuangan akan menggunakan jalur tertentu untuk membenarkan tindakannya, seperti jihad akan melakukan hal yang sama. Kami berbicara tentang berapa agama lain telah dimanfaatkan juga. Aku menoleh untuk melihat dia menyeka air matanya. "Tidak Quran memiliki dasar hukum ... seperti Alkitab ... yang mengatakan Jangan membunuh?" Tanyaku. "Tentu saja!" ia berseru, "Hukum tertinggi kedua mengatakan bahwa jika Anda membunuh satu jiwa itu seperti membunuh jiwa seluruh umat manusia. Jika Anda menyimpan satu jiwa, Anda menyimpan semua umat manusia." Kami sudah mencapai tujuan kami, hanya dari King St, tapi masih kami duduk di dalam mobil dan berbicara (dia berbalik meter off!). Hujan ringan ditaburi kaca depan ketika kami menyaksikan malam bidang Sabtu streaming di persimpangan. Rasanya seperti kami dua polisi, dari berbagai lapisan masyarakat, pada pengintaian film. Dia mengutip ayat-ayat Al-Quran sering mengacungkan oleh fundamentalis, dirampok konteks sejarah kuno mereka. Kami berduka atas korban di Paris. Kami berduka para martir muda yang pikirannya telah dicuci otak. "Ini menarik bagi fantasi anak mereka," katanya. Kami mencari beberapa jenis coda yang bisa mengirim kami berdua pada cara-cara kami. Saya mencoba dengan lemah dengan, "Yah, itu hanya sesuatu yang kita semua harus menerima sebagai bagian dari kehidupan kita sekarang." "Apa pikiran pertama Anda ketika Anda mendengar berita pagi ini? " tanyanya. "Yah jujur, meskipun aku tahu mereka semua aman, saya pikir saya keluarga sendiri. Dan teman-teman," aku berkata berjuang untuk jawaban yang lebih baik, "Saya merasa hancur bagi orang-orang yang terlibat di Paris. Tapi selalu di tragedi saya merasa semacam kekhawatiran bagi keluarga saya dan teman-teman. "" Itu nilai kehidupan! " katanya, "Itu cinta! Itulah satu-satunya pertahanan!" Kami berdua baik-baik saja untuk mengakhiri itu. Aku menutup pintu mobil dan bergegas pergi ke makan menunggu saya dengan beberapa teman-teman tersayang. "Saya hanya memiliki pengalaman Uber emosional," Saya mengatakan kepada mereka, dan pikiran saya terus kembali ke sana untuk sisa malam. Dan sekarang hari ini saya tidak ingin menulis ini sebagai semacam pernyataan. Saya hanya ingin memberitahu Anda tentang percakapan acak singkat saya dengan sedih Muslim Sydney Uber driver, yang agamanya sedang diambil darinya.