He discovered 1) kebabs are nice 2) some pubs close early and 3) anti-Semitic tomes exist outside Nazi Germany -  I was having a rather different interaction with Islam.

In the shadow of Masjid Istiqlal, South East Asia’s largest mosque, I was being pursued by a throng of persistent Indonesians through the middle of Jakarta.

Australia’s relationship with the disparate archipelago has always been  fraught. In 1975 five Australian-based newsmen were tragically cut down by Indonesian special forces in East Timor.

In 1998 we launched our biggest military deployment since Vietnam when we sent in troops to stabilise East Timor which was being harangued by a murderous pro-Indonesia militia.

Then there were the nation-changing Bali bombings.   

Most recently our spies have been sprung allegedly listening in on phone calls made by the wife of President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono.

Moreover I’d grown up in an atmosphere of suspicion surrounding Indonesia’s intentions.

In the 1990s sections of the Australian community  - not just the conspiracy tin-foil wearing set - were convinced hordes of Indonesians were, at a moment’s notice, ready to cross the narrow strip of sea separating our two countries and invade.

Afterall, Indonesia with a population of around 255 million is the largest majority Muslim country in the world. And they’re right on our door stop.

Against this background, you dear reader, are probably wondering how I made it safely home given the aforementioned throng chasing me through Indonesia’s capital.

It turns out they just wanted my photo.

Over two days probably 50 families approached me for a family happy snap.

Either I look like somebody on Indonesian TV or Indonesians are incredibly open, gentle and friendly, curious about foreigners who apparently rarely venture there.

As for stereotyped Islamic conservatism -  at one point I was dragged  to a circumcision ceremony because that was the only place our Muslim tour guide could find some lunch.

The old women chanting an ancient hymn were only too happy to have a bumbling westerner like me stumble in looking for some beef rendang.

So on returning home it seemed absurd that  Australia’s Islamic leaders were being lined up in order to condemn the actions of Khaled Sharouff who’s young son  was photographed in Mesopotamia holding a Syrian soldier’s severed head.

The response was understandable (Sharouff was Australian born and bred), predictable and bizarre all at the same time.

Bizarre because Sharouff is formerly a petty criminal with acute schizophrenia who absconded to Syria to find himself in the middle of a warzone.

The logic of grafting the values of a person like that on to a broader community of people, be they Muslim or not, is problematic to say the least.

As Labor MP Tony Burke said on ABC’s Insiders program of course Muslim leaders ``condemn beheadings’’.  

`` I've got to say, an image like that, which is offensive to every human being, I did find it astonishing that some people were saying, "Oh, has this Muslim leader or has that Muslim leader come out to condemn a beheading?" As though they in some way owned that image,’’ he said.

``I think there's also a point at which we have to ask: what's going on that we are questioning whether or not these leaders might be?’’

Interactions like mine may or may not be representative.

But slanted arguments run by those with an agenda  is no substitute for personal experience.