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continuation Cuba II, now also: The law

Unfortunately, here the more recent entries are always on the elderly, which now makes the connection a little ugly. But what the heck, I'm counting on the flexibility of my esteemed audience: Read it again by the first paragraph of the last entry, or perhaps you have it also still in the head. It's about my experiences with police (before the Cuba trip). Of this I also told Almut, my charming companion. We were now to our faithful little car, good for many of us scree slopes contributed to Havana on his return.
held in a trick of fate mocking us, I hardly had this peculiarity of my automotive career at the wheel, where the best-fitting Almut, a police officer. He pretended to want to see our papers, but was apparently just curious, because the driver had no papers it bothered him not in the least, and when I began to rummage in my opinion, he waved his thanks. "All right, nice day!"
That was really the strangest police check was that I had ever experienced, but it was also my first ever. Later, however, told us one of the many hitchhikers, during which we the long journeys, took away time and again that regular inspections of the Cuban tourist police are not allowed. Yes, I had already heard several times, I remembered and realized I'm fine for the next time the was not long in coming: This time I was driving, and trilling whistled just past a railroad crossing there, and energetic, we were on the brink . waved I then stopped it, even though I had made me different, but was determined to let me take for a ride in any way by running up a Uniform. So I then looked as reserved, as the young police officer for driving license and car documents said, and held him right in front of unfriendly, "I just check no tourists "surprised and perhaps a little frightened, he looked at me - such a rebellious it was probably not yet encountered in his young career, dutifully and mechanically, he repeated:"... I need your license and registration papers, "I handed them out of it. At that moment still a senior police officer to appear, a manager who chewed still on his lunch, and pretty upset worked. Yet another bird, I muttered to Almut, as it dawned on me slowly that I might actually . broken a traffic rule, the older cop had mixed namely, now angry, "So, you speak our language? Since the front of the railway crossing is a huge "Stop" - sign, and you just drive over it without batting an eyelid? Do you want the train to run over "Wow, since it rained suddenly findings: Said train was in fact turned me into a kind of running gag between Almut and because we constantly exceed their paths ran over and it never - even up?. . the end of the trip - to face were crossing barriers do not exist in Cuba, would be in the eternity intervals between two trains run on the same site huge waste But every vehicle must stop at every railroad crossing, the driver make sure that the left and right. anrollt no train, and only then he must go. So the stupid in the partially deserted Cuban prairie looks like it. And I had violated this rule (though not on purpose, I simply had not noticed)! And shown me not a bit reasonable, no, instead you could accuse me, even insulting! Well, I was still a bit queasy. I had never had trouble with police, and now I maneuvered the two of us straight into the grotesque trouble. I immediately turned around to inspect, "Oh, uh, yes, I'm sorry, I did not even noticed, oh God, I'm sorry!" - "Do it again, and you pay three times the punishment," the senior police officer informed me strictly but now savoring a bit of his official authority, and - let us go. Phew. Relieved, I thought of as more than the regulations at every level crossing, looked right and left and then went veeery slowly over the tracks - apparently not slow enough, for about twenty minutes, after last-described incident, we stopped again, this time from a mean old man with a mustache, the three looked pretty grim. He immediately asked for my passport - suspicious, but I was confused. "Have I done something wrong?" I asked hesitantly, as he rumschnüffelte in my personal details. "Wrong?", She said with a petrified look, "however." No explanation. My Know told me that I had nothing this time been guilty, but after the last episode I had the courage to leave for now. He left me floundering, I was approached by his first name, he had cleverly read in my passport, visibly enjoyed my uncertainty, however, soon mingled with anger, and said to my demand, nothing was in order. And then, suddenly, he gave me back my passport, shook us both one after the hand and said in a smug smile: "Happy Mother's Day, the ladies, and a good trip!" So please, fate, I thought to myself. Is not that a bit of theatrical sign, to remind me that my mother still did not call today? Phone calls are expensive in Cuba!
And that was not our last experience with the uniformed men there in the tropical heat. There was still the matter of the backpack, but before I tell this, I must unfortunately another section and thus from the two-a three-part series. You know: Anticipation is the greatest of its kind!

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stories from Cuba. Part Two: Encounters with the law and crime

I am not one of those people who have a fundamental problem of human nature with police. They are for me, like, say, teachers, simply part of our society and I have nothing against them, which I could not even against any people of any profession. Maybe I am also therefore never in police checks. I'm going now for twelve years car, not always absolutely Highway Code compliant, but I was never stopped by the police. So much for my open mind regarding the following topic now.
But before I refer our Cuban experience with the local law enforcement, I have to strain your patience a little and roll up the theme from the other end within society: namely, first, we met in Cuba, the law-breakers.
had in a long and arduous hike, we visited Santiago de Cuba from a former fortress, El Morro . The road had been very much further than expected and the temperatures were the Central European Organisms grow quite to the head, in short, the circumstances invited not just to deny even the return journey on foot. Now we have arrived at last on a small beach with the promising name of La Estrella, Cuban there by a whole horde of hooligans, some of which do not really worked perfectly kosher, had been so oppressed that we had passed the desire to stay at the beach for the time being, also was there are already early evening, the road to Santiago far and our way of coming back yet completely unknown. The bus, waiting for the hope we had posted on the roadside, had planned his next passage seems to never-never. However, as it is in Cuba: A transport capacity for the two nice female tourists with the supposedly tense-sounding budget was not long in coming. From a not very inviting restaurant on Strandesrand whose tasting we had previously declined with thanks, was an obviously very drunk young man approached us and asked if he was not us should go to town with his car, standing there, it merely requires ten dollars. "Basically, like, for half the price and if you're not the driver," I replied with slow awakening desire and trade some suspicion. The latter was well justified because, as we soon realized we had the first time with a real Cuban jinetero , a negotiator or tractor to do. He smiled contemptuously, and went off to make the offer to his patron . He came back with a counteroffer of eight dollars. But we did not give so easily, "six dollars," I replied coldly, "and we begin now to ever walk on the way." This time, the runners, not without first breaking force of alcohol-related difficulty walking bent over backwards in a hole, hurry back, and brought - Sacrament! - His boss, his master and administrator with. And immediately I felt like in a criminal movie: The guy was the prototype of the pimp, the other to work for you , can thus be increased, while money itself does nothing other than day by day to be bold and paint to trim his beard monkeys. On each finger put a golden ring, and the hump was goldbehangen that could projecting legs wearing shorts in the obese body barely, from the plump face stared two cunning, emotionless eyes. Dunnerlittchen, I thought you and your minions, I do not want to face the night alone and defenseless. But I pulled myself together and thought, calm, remain only master of the situation, not only can be intimidated. The pimp looked at us, nodded condescendingly Almut of my companion and me to the car and said only: ". Tennbagh" Whether his audacity, in the absence of Education and the disdain with which he stared at us from his slit eyes froze, now my face to the poker face and I thought you Zuhälterfettwanst lousy, I'll show you's. Learning first time you say decent th bucks before you want two women who are clearly smarter than you shameless abknöpfen, ten CUC for the route to Santiago, and believe not know that I'm afraid your common Babyface. All these thoughts I put into view, with which I looked him straight in the eye, as I said in my finest Ibero English: ". We were in six-six cents and no more, or we will stop walking." Fat-Belly stared back, I wanted to his eyes pierce his eyes said, "You are to me no more than two boobs," and asked: "English women, what?" - "Something like," I replied, without lowering the gaze. After a few seconds of silence, which was accompanied by only slightly by the hot dust, rustling wind, we had won. contact Without sight of me - I was really never been viewed with so much meanness and disapproval - meant the patron's Jinetero and another employee, who turned out to be a driver with a nod to take us for six CUC to Santiago . My knees were shaking a little after the battle sight, even anger, that we engage in such shady characters . Had And all seemed averted the danger yet. Without it, pronounce, and I knew Almut both that we had the same thought: I hope not now take the point elsewhere rape, and rob us of ourselves. So keep poker face, be prepared for anything!
It went well. Except deafening loud music and the blatant offer by the drunk, but still the same to push a little Nümmerchen ("Your body is in fact very good"), was caused us no harm. The driver was even sober. Finally back in the safe swarm of Santiago's Plaza Dolores, we both breathed deeply, and made our indignation at the kinds of men and treatment, which we just escaped, were loud air. It should thank God, our only experience of such unsavory people to stay during the trip. However, there are in Cuba, and this confirms an all Cubans, a species that can be almost as unpleasant as the gloomy figures on the edge of the law: the so-called guardians of the law. Because the entry is threatening to get on track, I cut it here and do a pretty two-part thereof. DC's next!

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stories from Cuba. Part One: The principle Mi Amor or how to (k) a Cuban fishes

Yes, dear reader, damas y caballeros, I will not deny you, as to seeing the end of the last entry looked like: Of course I'm asleep, and woke up in bright sunshine at precisely the time when I had a date with my charming tour guide at the check-in switch from Airfrance. And with a head whose content was nothing promised. I then managed, somehow, it was damn close, and I never want to drink more alcohol before a long flight. So now
Cuba, ay! Cuba. How could I ever afford all the time to tell all the stories there were to tell of this wonderful, wonderful and awful island. I start at the center, which then might even have reached the end, but everyday life appears already at the feet of the door, and there is little time before he is back in the house and everything fascinates. So even before a hurry


The principle Mi Amor

I can each marry, wife, the Speed Dating and a certain restriction on the superficial averse in terms of inter-sexual approach in principle does not and is insolvent not just completely, only the following advice: Go to Cuba. Put on something nice, a dress is perfect, but need not be. You do not even look your most speak English very well, that's not so important. Just go to the street and go there most step, not too fast, up and down. If you will please not after a few minutes bidder selection whistling, snapping and contact willing men there, Just try it a few blocks or even in the nearest town. Tell you a copy, you can go on after about half an hour to plan the procedure of repatriation to Europe. You just need the money to shoot for his ticket. But if you take a break from the rigors of the Caribbean marriage market, try as quickly and silently to reach your accommodation and stay there until you have recovered - you sit on any case in a café, a bar or even on a park bench!
The good thing about all this is: you need never be alone in Cuba. You can always find company and it's not always just one thing. And the vast majority of Cubans are in almost every situation in the mood for a chat. They show their conversation partner (m / f) like to know how dear he / she is to them by him / her mind with pet names, which could translate all such as "my darling, my darling". Plays the intimacy or the length of acquaintance of the communicants do not matter. You have to know each other in Cuba not to be the other treasure. You have to want to tell the other anything nice to get him to call it treasure.
I came eventually to the point where I decided to make it easy, too. Actually, I am opposed to a partnership of endearment, but eventually it went for me here so not about partnerships and I also like to adapt myself to my surroundings. As we sat one evening in the idyllic Remedios on the terrace of a bar, it was not long before we were pulled by a small group conversation. This time, even women also were present, two pairs to be exact. The husband of one couple had together with another single man (whose alcohol level is approximately the equivalent of 15 cans of beer) all possible absurd suggestions on how one might make the next day with all those present. That's what we wanted, Almut my company and I, but not at all. We wanted to make absolutely the next day only two of us. As our intrusive Party but not let go, I decided at some point, it is now time to try the alleged Cuban way and said something harsh tone to the pair of man: "No, mi amor , you will tomorrow nowhere go with us, we go alone.. " Yikes, I had done wrong but what! Suddenly went into an excited clamor to me - not about whether the content of my words, no, focused on the single sentence: "Hey, you must not say he is not your sweetheart, he is their treasure!" With reference to the dyed blond companion to a pair of man. I mumbled some excuse, but thought, my goodness, I am going to constantly caressed verbal, which is absolutely in my opinion can have no meaning, but may not say mi amor to one whose real amor sits. Okay, I'm trying to understand.
I the lesson learned then on another occasion to end or covered their full content: A few times was I noticed that Cubans blocks located in one - judge talking, preferably ending with "mi vida" - often unknown "my life". For example: "That's right, a kilo costs 5 pesos mi vida." I was dismissed as said, for my central European terms of exaggerated verbal caresses. The true significance of this appendage opened up to me but only on an overnight trip violence, their history should be told another time, during our Cuban guide (a friend) leaned out the window and asked a passer-by did not quite familiar: "Is this the road to the police station, mi vida?" Pling! made it there in my head: not love, but life is thus the common diminutive for anyone in Cuba, and more than that, it is the usual form of address. Where we Germans with a messed-content-free try to make do Sorry and the Frenchman, yet still elegant Monsieur / Madame at hand to drive the Cubans to the same everything, I do not know about you, but you are my life, and if I do not have the same can love, you mean to me as much as the pulse beat of my heart, even if I only ask for directions.
So once again return to the strategies of finding a partner in Cuba: If you like a particularly good and not belonging to his wife in sight, call it my love . If any of you not so good and you like him kindly or not want to reject so friendly, you name it my life. And you do not comply with any ethical issues to your sense of what is important now for you: life and love.

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Ahlus Sunnah wal Dschammah way of relating to the rights of scholars and Auliyah

[From book "Ahl Sunnah wal Dschamma the way" of Muhammad ibn Salih al Uthaimin - rahimahullaah -]

The Imams (scholars) of the Islamic Shariah, Al-hamdu Lillah are known imams, who praised the Ummah and has recognized its merits, but they do not believe that they are infallible. According to the beliefs of Ahlus Sunnah and Dschammah there is no man who is protected from errors (error free), including protection from the possibility of recognizing a failure, except the Prophet, which is protected by the recognition of an error (which he sees or a member). While the others, achieved no matter how high their knowledge and scholarship, they are never error-free.
all make mistakes and you take all of their words and they can also, except from the Prophet, on whose obedience Allah the Exalted has commanded us that we have him, obey in all matters without exception.
you say (Ahlus Sunnah): There is no doubt that there have in this Ummah, and imams are Auliyah (people who are loved by Allah, with faith and piety), but which we do not intend the infallibility of one of them to or confirm that any of them knows what is hidden or that he acts in the cosmos.
They also do not say "wali" of the person who calls himself "Wali" calls, or the unreal claims that he does win the people for themselves.
you say that one "Wali" is that Allah in His word. "Surely, to Allah's followers (Auliyah) shall be no fear nor shall they grieve, those who believe and are God-fearing" [Surah Yunus verse 10 62-63] has described.
you are Aliyah: Those who believe and fear Allah, and are pious. Faith is the Akida, while piety is the work, either word or deed.
Schaichul Islam, Ibn Taymiyyah (rahimahullaah), has made a nice statement that he has taken from this Aya, by saying: "If a religious believer is, he is a Wali of Allah. "
He is a true" Wali "and not the one who wants to win people over, the family (his followers) and gathered them I say do so and so, while of the Schayatin are helped to know that of something hidden. Then the blind and people are fascinated by what he says and say: ". He is a Wali" But it's not that the level of the Auliyah will follow with the Prophet reached, with faith and piety a Muslim. If someone is a devout believer, then he is a Wali.
But with all this, it is not a prerequisite to any Wali Allah "Karamah - mark - There. It has even have many Auliyah do not sign, because usually the sign of truth comes as help raise so they triumphed, so that it is false or decreased, and there is not a certain person up.
So, it is not necessary that each Wali has a sign. It happened that a Wali lives and dies without it reached a sign or signs him to reach one by one, and as the scholars have said: "Any sign that a Wali is given, is an argument for the veracity of the Prophet he follows "
And I will not say" Mudschizza. "- wonder - because it is the correct sign to say, or evidence, because this is the expression of the Qur'an used.
"character" is more opaque as the "miracle" because the first is an indication of the truth of the whereby the Prophet has come, while the second may come from the hand of a magician or a strong person makes something with which to the challenge and make people can not. But that name with the word "character" is more opaque and more accurate, and this is the expression of the Qur'an's. So we call miracles, is that correct.
There are some people in this Ummah, which as we have heard, lay claim to be Auliyah, but he who finds they considered their situation very far away from his Auliyah and they have no part in it, but they have Schayatin which help them in matters which they want and thus they deceive the simple people.