Teaching at "Pascasarjana"

In March, I began my teaching assignment at the Post-Graduate School (Pascasarjana) in the area of sociology of religion.  Actually, I share a course with another professor, who is teaching a class on social analysis using the works of a group of Italian social theorists of the 19th and early 20th centuries.  It's a really weird fit.  But I squeeze my course on the world religions into the middle of it, and the students don't seem to mind.  They are supposed to be doing presentations on papers they write using those same Italian social philosophers to analyze the current social problems of Indonesia.  Huh?  But despite the incongruity of subject matters, it has been a rich and challenging experience for me.  I get to teach only twice a week for an hour and a half each time, with two different groups of students, only about 6-10 in each class (when they all show up, which is not often).  What I really like are their questions.  They are often so profound as to catch me off guard.  Yesterday I was asked what about the nature of "hyper-reality," a student's made-up term for metaphysics.  And what is the origin of the images of gods and goddesses in Hinduism.  Do they only have a destroyer god in Hinduism, and if so, how does the creation get started?  Where is the "proof" for their religion? I answered, and I hope did not destroy their faith in the process, that there is no proof in religion!  (They like to think of Hinduism as a tourist attraction for the many visitors to Bali, but I wanted to show them it is a far more serious religion than meets the eye.)  Of course, all this has to be communicated in our mutually broken languages.  Sometimes, but not always, there is a "translator," who often goes off on tangents of his own if he is there. 
  A greater challenge is meeting the unspoken paradigm of their religion of Islam (but I do have one Catholic student) as the true and perfect religion.  This idea came out forcefully when I introduced the work I was doing on comparative spirituality last semester.  A student said that since I teach all religions, I do not have enough sympathy with Islam.  I bring a pluralist perspective to some who are clearly exclusivists.  Even among the "tolerant" of this Muhammadiyah institution, I hear that it is "natural" to have separation among the religions, although Muslims are commanded to treat others well.  Muhammadiyah is known as a "purification movement" that was founded with some influence from Wahabism.  My friend, Yuli, who teaches Buddhist studies at the Buddhist college attached to the monastery up the road, believes I am here opening the door of the Muhammadiyah community just a little, and my presence will do some good.  I hope she's right.