Category Archives: albanyia

The Egg & Memories

Last night I attended a local fundraiser at The Egg. It’s called that because, well, it looks like an egg! It’s an unmistakable landmark of this area. When anyone drives up here and enters the city via the main highway there it is. Right there on our skyline. Mainly it’s a theater where they have various performing arts shows and things. Inside is a huge hall with a stage, along with many smaller theater rooms and meeting halls. It’s all part of a something called the Empire State Plaza. Which is this huge state-funded cement complex of buildings/museum/library/archive/theater built in the 1970s. I actually read a very fascinating history of it recently so check it out: http://www.lofaber.com/albany/essaymaking.html
(It was meant to be a futuristic star trek-ish complex, half-underground and half-above, a cultural, arts and business center, but turned out to be a huge anachronism.)

I can’t really remember the first time I’ve been there, the Egg – probably in the 3rd grade when I was 8 we went there for a field trip to watch some ballet/musician thing, have no idea. There’s also a little museum, the only museum around here, that we’ve been to many times on field trips or our parents just took us on random Saturdays. The plaza itself – we went to countless times as kids, to play on the wooden playground, to walk around the huge reflecting pools and fountains. I recently found a really old picture of my brother and I when I was around 5, probably when we first came to America, (my Dad in 70s beard and pants, even though it was the 80s!) sitting near one of the fountains at the plaza!

Every 4th of July there’s a huge fireworks display here and festival all day, our mother used to bring us when we were kids on the bus, we’d bring a sheet and spread it out and run around all day. For some reason I think there was also some kind of dental/medical offices down in there somewhere too? Because I vaguely remember going there for something like that. Later on I used to go with high school friends for the fourth and hang out all day eating fried dough, walking around the stalls, buying glo-in-the-dark necklaces and staking out a place for the fireworks show. There’s also countless festivals at the plaza every year, like the Festival of Nations – food and dances and stalls from every country, an Indian festival, Greek festival etc.

It’s really a quintessential Albanyian thing, the first place we bring visitors, although they don’t seem to get it. :)

Anyway it was kind of weird, very weird actually to have a fundraiser for a Masjid there. The main hall is huge, like really huge. Could probably fit 2000-4000 ppl. We had probably 400-500 max in there so it felt really empty. Not sure why but it felt like a lot of people were missing, perhaps they were away or because it was a new strange place for them they didn’t come. It is very expensive to rent out and there was some controversy apparently over that, ie the usual ppl saying it was too expensive, why have it there, etc. But I actually think it’s a very interesting choice. I mean why shouldn’t we rent it? Aren’t we Albanyians as well?

The place was set up really nicely with the food catered, with waiters and workers taking care of all that, with nice drinks (including bottled drinks of every kind!) and big cups and ice (trust me these things are veryyyy rare at Muslim events, ur lucky if u get a half cup of orange soda!) The sound system was beyond excellent. I mean you could have a screaming baby next to you (which I did) and still be able to hear everything. They also played a nicely put together video on a big screen about the Masjid and updates on it. A ton of kids were in a seperate meeting room with a magician, movies and stuff to do! So excellent. I know tons of parents appreciated that. The kids didn’t even want to be in the boring main room they were having so much fun over there .

The speaker that came was very funny and interactive and did the fundraising very well. Alhamdulillah we raised over a million dollars in pledges, that’s DOLLARS! An absolutely unheard of number in this area for any type of fundraiser. It was great, and hopefully inshaAllah will bring us closer to actually building a Masjid. We also tried broadcasting the whole thing via internet streaming and some ppl even donated via text!

The speaker was someone I knew years ago (I’m talking 10+ years) who was a real supporter of my website when it first started up. I was hesitant to say salam in case he didn’t remember me, but he did! Thinking about that time I feel very nostalgic about when the internet was new and Islam on the internet was even newer. What hopes and dreams we had. What hopes and dreams we had running around as teenagers on the plaza. Not saying that everything turned out terrible and that we were never to fulfill those, just that things shifted and changed and some different things were realized and new hopes begun.

Anyway this feels like a lot of sharing, which reminds me, why do I post all these personal things on my blog so you guys can read them!! Is it fair that I keep writing and strangers keep reading? :) I think one day I’ll limit my blog to only other ppl that have blogs, that way it’s a two way street!

OK so for now here are a few pics from the event:

On Sept 11th, 2010 – NYC Rally to Support the Mosque

On Sept 11th, 2010, I found myself in a very surreal experience:  Traveling to New York City on a bus full of non-Muslims nine years to the day of 9/11. As a Muslim-American, I can’t even tell you the pain we feel on the 9/11 anniversary. Not just for what happened on that day, but for all the consequences of it, from the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, to the millions of people killed, to the FBI round up of Muslims, hate-crimes against Muslims, discrimination and bias, to the anti-Mosque Islamophobia Quran-burning crusades of today. All of these events have somehow inexplicably led me to being on a bus heading to the very spot 9 years later…

To us, September 11th, 2001 is  a defining date in our lives. There was life before 9/11 which seemed happy and promising, and life after 9/11, full of constant defenses against attacks and painful experiences. At one time we thought America could be the place where we could practice our religion freely, raise our children and live good fruitful lives. I can’t help thinking that those who landed on Plymouth Rock had the same idea. Leaving England for a New World, they hoped to practice their religion freely and establish an equal society.

The bus I traveled on was sponsored by a few organizations in this area including a local Mosque, the Muslim solidarity committee (a group of almost all non-Muslims which have been constant supporters of us in this area), and Project Salam (an advocacy group pursuing all the wrongful prosecutions of Muslims). Not surprisingly, there were only a handful of Muslims on the bus. This upsets me, but I’ve learned the vast majority of Muslims in the US are pained and saddened by what’s happening but they have steadfastly refused to do anything about it. They sit in their homes, continue to watch television, buy their BMWs and pretend that life is like pre-9/11 until something happens to them. How long this denial will go on, I don’t know. And perhaps it’s too late now for us.

Arriving at the planned site of the counter rally in New York City we found it swarming with reporters from all over the world. Organizers were still setting up and there were pre-made signs with slogans like ‘No to Racism and anti-Muslim Bigotry’, ‘Islam has been in NY for 400 years’, and ‘Muslims are Welcome here’. These were heartening to see. As soon as I and another Muslim sister stepped off the bus wearing Hijab, reporters immediately started asking us questions and interviewing us. This was really surprising because we were expecting to attend a really and not actually be interviewed by anyone! We weren’t really prepared and I’m not sure if our answers were the best ones. I’m sure everyone knows by now that being interviewed by the media is a double-edged sword. They tend to take the one or two phrases we say, what they think will go best with the angle they are going for and use it, they almost never convey what you wanted to. The trick for us is to get across how/what we want to present in as few sound-bytes as possible. I think they were attracted to us because we were visibly Muslim. I did want our viewpoint to be heard, but I also wanted them to interview non-Muslim Americans who were supporters.

Some reporters were actually very aggressive like one who asked me if I thought the 9/11 hijackers were Muslim. I said that their act was one of terrorism and did not follow the beliefs of Islam, but he continued to ask “But ARE THEY MUSLIM?” with the camera and lights in my face. I should have said ‘This isn’t relevant to what we’re doing here today’ and bring up the real points, but I guess you live and learn. I also didn’t have exact figures of how many Muslims there are in America (3-6 million) or how many Muslims died in 9/11 (62 names are known, 60-100) or exactly what floor Muslims used to pray in the World Trade Center (17th floor south tower). Next time I think it’s a good idea to go over these things on the bus going down in case anyone asks us. Mostly I talked about how Muslims used to work and pray in the World Trade Center and also died on 9/11 and asked why it was such a big deal now to have a cultural center two blocks away. Also a lot how Islam doesn’t equal terrorism or all Muslims aren’t terrorists. How I didn’t think the Pastor from Florida represents all of Christianity or all Christians, and the same should be said for the perpetrators of 9/11.

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There were about 2000-2500 supporters at the rally, and we were located at least four or five blocks away from the rally against the Mosque/Tea partiers group. There was also another rally of a couple hundred of some religious group, not sure what that was about except they had a lot of signs about how homosexuality was a sin and that “Islam was a lie”. The 9/11 memorials earlier in the day were also placed closer to Ground Zero than we were. At our rally, we heard some speeches from various speakers about the anti-Islam phobia that was spreading across America, about religious rights and how important support of Muslims was right now. The people in attendance were mostly non-Muslims from all walks of life…teachers, students, older people, peace activists, war veterans, Christians, Hispanics, African-Americans, babies… Many smiled at us and were extremely kind. A very strange experience as a Muslim Hijabi in New York City I can tell you! We then marched a few blocks around the park holding up our signs.

A few of our bus group went over to see what was going on at the anti-Mosque rally and reported back that they were in one open block and seemed like 1000-2000. They also had a humongous flat screen TV jumbotron to broadcast the speeches (compared to our truck and megaphone). They also had signs like ‘Bigots are Americans too’??!?! Many supporters went over there to see what was going on, unfortunately creating confrontations and shouting matches that were pounced upon by TV cameras and shown in the media and also maybe increasing their numbers so some reports said there were a lot more anti-Mosque protesters than there were supporters!

On our side we had maybe one or two anti-Mosque protesters walking by who yelled ‘Traitors! Go back home!” There was also one Hispanic/Italian woman standing nearby as we were leaving with a small sign that said “Islam=Terrorism” saying ‘Izlam,Terrorists’, ‘Izlam, Terrorists’ over and over again in a heavy accent. I went up to her and said “I’m a Muslim and I’m not a terrorist”. She wouldn’t look me in the eye and continued repeating that. The only other negative incident I had was when we went to the McDonalds nearby to eat something and an African-American woman came up to me and started showing me a book of printed photographs of 9/11 and said she was in one of the towers. She then started talking about “Shariah law and stoning in Iran”. I told her that we lived in the United States and that had nothing to do with us and then she started quoting (misinterpreted) verses of the Quran. I told her you can’t take verses of context and misinterpret them and then at that point I just realized there was no point, and left.

Unfortunately, this seems to be the main problem. The anti-Mosque people are not against the Mosque. They are against ALL OF ISLAM. They really hate Islam, Muslims and everything to do with us. They are “anti-Shariah” which is the stupidest thing I’ve heard of in the world. No country in the world has complete Shariah law (which is actually extremely flexible and wholesome) yet these people think Muslims will take over America and impose Burkas on them. It’s just so ridiculous. I can’t imagine anyone intelligent actually really thinks this, but they just use it to propel their dialogue of hate. They also equate Islam with terrorism. They say all Muslims are terrorists and that Islam teaches terrorism and that we want to take over the world, etc etc, whatever. They just hate all Muslims and want to expel us from the United States. Their message is so neo-Nazi I’m waiting for the day they come up with their own symbol and hail.

I really wished I had told that woman at McDonalds and the Italian woman to walk over to the Tea partiers and see how they treated them. At the last rally a non-Muslim African-American man had been walking passed them and they thought he looked foreign and surrounded him and started harassing him!! They hate all immigrants and all people of color and I found it sad that those women didn’t realize that.

There is so much misinformation and outright lies being spread about Islam. This is one of the roots of the problem. Unfortunately our lack of Dawah (teaching about Islam) really is an extreme weakness and perhaps downfall right now.  We need to open our Mosques, we need to have interfaith programs, we need to teach our neighbors. We need alliances. We need to do so much work just to prove our right to exist. The right of Islam to exist. But again, Muslims are too busy going to medical school (so they can buy that luxury SUV), trying desperately to fit in and be the least visibly Muslim or active they can.

After the rally was over, we walked back to the bus and on the way home took turns sharing our stories on the microphone. One of the reporters earlier in the day asked me how I felt being at the rally. I said ‘I was actually sad, sad because I had to be there’. It wasn’t a good day. To see so much hate and malignment of our religion is a very difficult thing.

The only highlight of my trip was praying freely on the sidewalk in New York City on one of the protest signs on the ground, surrounded by supporters. I was very impressed with the non-Muslims who were so supportive and defending Islam better than most Muslims. They kept repeating “Assalam Alaikum, Muslims are welcome here”.  It just proves my point that we just need to teach people about the basics of Islam. We do not need to convert anyone. The acceptance of it and psychological space can lead people to their own conclusions. No one has to AGREE with Islam, its beliefs or practices, but as Americans we should all realize the hope and dream of Plymouth Rock. We should all be able to live and practice our religions in peace.

sept11th_rally

See all the pictures here: http://jannah.org/gallery/main.php?g2_view=slideshow.Slideshow&g2_itemId=4601

Of small victories

Of small victories…

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Few take up the burden of their own victory: most give up their dreams when they become impossible.
- Paulo Coelho, The Pilgrimage

Yesterday I attended a rally for Muslims prosecuted wrongfully. If you’re an old time blog reader, you know of the two men here who were lured by FBI agents and embroiled in an elaborate trap to convict them of terrorism. Yesterday a rally was organized by a non-Muslim group that is in solidarity with the Muslims. We all met in front of the main library in our town and heard a few speakers and marched with a plethora of signs all the way downtown to city hall. We yelled slogans like ‘hey hey, ho ho, entrapment must go’ and ‘who did the crime, fbi! who did the time, muslims!’

At city hall, a common council member was going to introduce a resolution asking the justice department to review all these cases targeting Muslims.

There were maybe a hundred supporters, including Muslims, non-Muslims, babies in carriages, little Muslim girls with hijabs and signs, every nationality and age and color, Muslims who wore hijab and didn’t, Muslims who looked like they were and looked like they weren’t. Many family members of Muslims prosecuted from various cases in other states and nearby came as well.

We all walked through the metal detectors, got wanded and went upstairs to the court hall. There, one by one different people went up to speak from their heart. Some tearfully, some passionately.

There was the lawyer on the case who talked about how in the first evidence given a document claimed a Muslim Imam was a “commander” but when they read the document they realized the FBI had mistranslated the word for “brother” as “commander” and totally had the wrong language even! The FBI admitted their mistake but all evidence after that was then made secret! Not even the defense lawyers who went through months of clearance were allowed to see the evidence. They were not able to challenge anything that could have been totally wrong like that. The judge at the beginning told the jury that there was “real evidence” why these men were targeted and completely prejudiced the jury. They were afraid to exonerate them even though they found them not guilty on all except one of the charges.

A little Albanian girl who was probably about 12 went up and spoke quite eloquently about how her father and his friends went to the Pochonos on vacation and went horseback-riding, played pool and then to a shooting range. Before they went to the shooting range they even asked the local cops if they could and were told it was fine. Long story short another person tricked and entangled, pro(per)secuted and convicted. She said she had two younger siblings who always ask about their father and she doesn’t know what to tell them and tries to comfort them. All from this little tiny girl! Hearts of stone would have melted.

A Palestinian mother went up and spoke about how her son was given life PLUS 30 years and he is only 21 years old over taking pictures at a reservoir. To see him in jail the family has to drive 19 hours and can only talk to him through glass in a highly secure CMU, a jail especially for Muslims. I thought about the pictures I took this summer at Lock 7.

A local Egyptian Muslim talked about how he came to the US 30 years ago because it was the land of opportunity, of fairness and justice. How Muslims want to be part of the society, to contribute and give back. And how he was appalled with what was happening in the U.S now.

A non-Muslim African-American mother went up and talked about how one day she looked at her Muslim son and realized that he was not well. After being tested they found out he had leukemia. The informant the FBI sent to him offered him money for treatment for his CANCER. And they later used this to convict him for terrorism.

An Indian Physics professor talked about how he came to the US so many years ago as an immigrant and hoped it would be a place of peace and prosperity. How these men, while they may have made mistakes, were not terrorists. How they were entrapped and prosecuted and taken from their families.

Case after case, community members, activists, peace advocates, civil rights supporters, family members, mothers, fathers, aunts, sisters, siblings, young sons and daughters, muslims, non-muslims, blonde, white, black, wearing jeans or jilbabs or suits went and spoke. I can’t even describe the beauty and eloquence and emotion of each speaker talking about things like injustice, anger, civil rights, love, family, faith and ideals.

I know for each activist, mother or child who spoke it was a cathartic experience. For the first time they were able to speak and be a witness to what had happened to them and what was happening around them.

Some council members cried as did we.

I was reminded of the story of the Christian king of Abyssinia. Who, when the enemies of Muslims came, asking him to hand over the Muslims taking refuge in his country, asked the Muslims about their case. The Muslims came forward and recited verses from the Chapter of Mary in the Quran. The king and his council members wept until their beards were wet and he said that the difference between Christianity and Islam was the difference between this line that he drew in the sand. He declared that he wouldn’t give the Muslims up for anything and would always give them protection.

Amazingly, a few council members got up and also talked. One with a heavy Russian accent talked about how even seeing the recent violent events in his country, he did not want the US to turn into the Soviet Union. He talked about the time his uncle was dragged away for nothing and put into a horrible gulag in Siberia. He talked about how his grandmother is still scared to even talk about anything political and about how people his parents knew just disappeared because of their political ideas.

Another talked about how the council now had a choice. What kind of America did they want to live in? The kind where secret evidence, illegal wiretaps, wrongful prosecution was OK or the kind where justice upheld. Did they want an America where people were arrested and jailed before they even committed a crime because of their beliefs?

One of the women council members talked at length about the tragedy of 9/11 and admitted how the US had gone too far in their treatment for Muslims and it was time to redress it now instead of 50 years from now like they did for the Japanese that were interred and all the other different groups that had been treated unfairly in the past.

Another council member said he thought that in being a representative here he’d just be working on things like parking and streets and building legislation. But he was so proud now to be part of something of great importance and wanted to represent the Muslims he knew in his own district that he saw everyday in their stores. He knew them and wanted to make sure they received the justice they deserved.

One of the council members objected to the wording of the resolution and they went into an unprecedented emergency mode to update it so that they could have more members support it.

One council member objected to ‘not having enough time’ to think over something so weighty. Another said he wanted to talk to his ‘elected officials’ to see what they thought before supporting something like this.

I wish someone had video recorded or taped it or I could somehow recall everything that had been said and convey it to you. I don’t think I will ever see an event like that again. It was unprecedented all around and just un-describable. I wish every person in the world could, like this council,  witness and hear each individual Muslim like this. Just to see their face and hear them. What a difference it makes!

It had been a very long emotional meeting. People came in and out, some went to another courtroom to pray. The babies fell asleep and were taken home. Finally after everyone spoke passionately and all debate was over… the vote. At this time, the room went silent and everyone came in, sat in the floor and listened to hear the roll call. Yes, yes, yes, present (meaning no/abstain), yes, present…and on it went. Finally the tally… it was 10-4 We won!!

The resolution had passed. And for the first time, and in a very formal way a government body had made a very very very small concession. And sent a very very very small message to the justice department. Message: what they did might have been wrong and needed to be redressed.

A very small stone in a very huge pool of suffering. The men are still in jail. Their families are still torn apart. A resolution doesn’t change innocence or guilt, just asks them to review the “methods” used in prosecution. Still…

Still.

We all walked back in groups jubiantly through the night air the way we marched, to a little tiny pizza shop downtown that one of the wive’s of one of the Muslims in jail still ran after her husband had been taken away. Struggling, alone, with 6 children to support, she had prepared some food for all of us. There everyone took up every available booth and counter space. We passed around pizza and salad and biryani and ginger ale. Some council members came too! Everyone hung out and we ate and laughed and talked and celebrated. It was a little strange, a lot full of wonder, an amazing evening. For the first time in a long time we felt… happy.

I almost didn’t write about this event, because I kind of felt it was a special, private moment for those involved. But then I thought maybe someone out there could use a tiny bit of hope… Also I would like those who were not involved and who have never been involved, the Muslims sitting on their couch or the Americans who don’t care, to know of our little win of justice, of our happiness…of small victories. It is we who are blessed through this opportunity to help others, not the other way around. All praise and thanks be to God.  :)

wsalam

UPDATE! Our wish has been granted!! Video of everyone speaking appears in the link below at Project Salam!!

Photos taken by Dan Van Riper

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The houses on the block in which I live are quite close together. On our one block we have defeated the odds of random chance by having 3 houses in a row with professors. Next door lives a young professor of archaeology/sociology with his family and next door to him is an older professor of business/statistics and his wife (and dog), and of course the third is my father who is a professor of physics.

My room on the second floor overlooks the back of the house and across a few backyards. Sometimes I see the younger professor out playing with his kids in his yard or just sitting reading on his front porch. He seems an outside kind of guy who putters around and fixes the moldings, paints his porches and fixes up his deck and yard. He reminds me so much of my father maybe 30 years ago. I don’t see his wife as often. She seems to come home to immediately rush the kids into the house.  I rarely see her outside. The older professor I see only when he comes out to take his dog inside. His wife nods every so often when she walks said dog.

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My room has another window that directly looks into the window of the house adjacent. The space between these two portals must be less than a dozen feet. When I was younger I think the room across was used as an office for previous owners because the shades were always drawn. I only saw the top of a desk. I left my shades up in the daytime and enjoyed the light. When the younger professor moved in I started to hear a child crying at night and think that room is now used as a nursery.  My shades are now usually closed but I still hear the sense of movement, the lights turning on and off and noises of children. They seem to wake up very early and go to bed very early. Sometimes I wonder how we all live our lives within the space of a few hundred yards and remain almost complete strangers.

Down the street from us in a very big house surrounded by pine trees lives a middle-aged activist type woman with her one son and husband. They hold big parties every so often and I hear their swanky music making it’s way to the comfy porch chair I sit on outside in nice weather. Their son sometimes sells lemonade in the summers.  After a snowstorm, she always seems to be enthusiastically cleaning the sidewalks around her house in the afternoon, eager to greet others.

Across the street there are two houses that have been turned into apartments. Sometimes there are students that live there, sometimes young professionals, mostly single. They come and go. During the summer the parking spots in front of their houses tend to remain empty.

On the next block there is a little Church with a Montessori daycare. On Thursday evenings around 5 or 6pm from May until August,  you’ll hear the unusual sound of bagpipes coming from there, playing throughout the neighborhood. Once I saw an old couple set up twin lawn chairs near the Church just to listen.

Within walking distance we have a little post office, supermarket, library, bank, bagel and donut place, Chinese take-out, sandwich shop, park with playground, schools, dentists, dry cleaners, cafe, gas station, an independent movie theater, a pharmacy, and a liberal arts college! And yet this area is considered very residential with low crime.

One would be hard-pressed to find similar statistics anywhere. It really isn’t such a bad place. Even if it feels like we are surrounded by strangers, it is home.

tuscancourtyardbymariaserafina

Memories of Winters in Upstate New York

Winter FunWinter Fun

Memories of Winter in New York

Recently it snowed in Texas. This actually made the national news.

A ton of pictures and messages went up on every social network about how amazing it was. People were outside walking around instead of working, children were let outside of their schools. I saw tons of photo albums of little kids running around playing in the snow, people making snowmen, taking pictures happily standing in front of them, then taking pictures of their houses, their trees, their cars covered with snow. And the amazing thing is: I think it was three inches at most! :D Lol. We get that in ONE HOUR people!! And it snows all night here!

It’s like they never saw snow before or something :P

Ahhh, the beautiful thing is that it brought back to me how joyous snow could be. I have so many good memories of winter when we were growing up. I was thinking about this recently too as my young nephew and neice will be moving to (ironically) Texas and will probably never experience a real New England winter.

The first snow of the season usually falls before Thanksgiving here. The trees are all bare and when the whole town seems to be the blahest ugliest, all of a sudden one day we’ll be looking out the window in our high school and it will be snowing. Oh, the excitement!

All those kids in these pictures were dressed up in thick sweaters with hoods, poor things. They probably don’t even own jackets! Let alone what we call a “snow jacket and snow pants”. I remember when I was eight I used to have a pair of hot pink snow pants that I loved! Our usual outfits were thick jeans, a turtle-neck shirt with a sweater or thick sweatshirt, big fluffy socks (sometimes two), big boots, hat, gloves or mittens, ear-muffs, wool scarf, snow jacket and if we were little — snow pants! Then we’d go outside and maybe shovel the snow. We’d build forts on both sides of our house and we’d make up teams between my brothers, sister and I. We’d pelt each other with our arsenal of snowballs and sometimes passerbys too. (haha don’t tell our parents) We used to make snow angels in our backyard. We’d go sledding for hours and hours at the local park, or high school or local golf country club. We’d clean off the cars for money from our parents or my brothers would go clean off some neighbor’s sidewalks and we’d walk to the local store and buy the most unhealthiest foods we could find!

At our local Mosque they’d bulldoze the parking lot and there’d be this one long line of a huge mountain of snow and we’d all climb it and walk across throwing snowballs like it was some kind of trail across the Himalayas. Oh and snowdays were the best! We’d go to bed and pray and pray that it would snow all night. Then we’d wake up so early and turn on the radio or the TV and keep listening and if our school was called we’d start screaming and jumping up and down and be so ecstatic that we had a WHOLE DAY to do nothing except what we wanted. Sometimes we’d go to our friend’s house trudging through the snow, or we’d stay inside after our excursions and watch a ton of TV or play video games. The best feeling in the world was coming in after being all frozen, shaking off all our winter wear and placing it on the heaters. Then going in the kitchen and drinking some delicious soup or hot chocolate our Mom had made for us. Until today, for some reason I love to make brownies when it’s snowing! We loved going outside after midnight when we were teenagers. The streets sparkled with the glitter of thousands of diamonds and we would feel like we were living in the 1800s with all the cars and modern life covered up. We’d walk down the street and feel timeless… such are the happy memories of winter here.

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A City Fairyland 1886 by Hassam Childe


There is of course the downside of snow. Getting a cold or the flu, actually having to walk to school or wait at the bus stop even when it’s freezing and snowing, making up work for the day you missed. And of course as you get older, snow is more an annoyance, having to wake up early to see if you have to come in to work. Cleaning off the car at 7am in sub-below 0 temperatures after snow and freezing rain is the absolute worst. Have you ever felt so cold with the wind and snow that you had to cover your face or else you’d die and like your eyeballs start watering because they are so freezing, Texas? Yeah I thought not :)

It’s enough to make people leave and it’s true that so many people haven’t been able to bear it. It’s just hard to go out and clean off your car and move it every day during snow emergencies. How about shoveling an entire driveway! Have you ever gotten stuck in snow or not been able to get your car out. Yeah it’s happened so many times. Having to clean your sidewalk after two feet of snow. Dealing with bone-chilling cold and wet frozen feet and hands and ears. Can you imagine the fear that stops your heart and jumps into your throat when your car slides on an icy road and you can’t do anything. I remember one winter while driving to Jumah, my car spun a clear 270 degrees on an icy part of a highway on-ramp. I still thank Allah that there weren’t any cars coming or going at the time. Winters can be harsh and depressing times too, with no one going out, events being cancelled, nothing going on.

Despite all this, I still love my memories of winter. I look out the window at 1am and love seeing the snow falling under the street light. And I love when, after that last storm ends and all the snow melts, we wait for that first flower of spring with the excitement and satisfaction of putting a rough winter behind us :)

And I have miles to go...
And I have miles to go…

From Allah we come and to Him we Return.

I attended a funeral yesterday on a very very cold day in March. My car has been acting up by starting to smoke after exactly 25 minutes of driving. (Bad car doesn’t know smoking is bad for it’s health!) So my brother bought something in a can that I put in the radiator and voila it didn’t smoke all the way to work. InshaAllah it stays that way although the scary red “Check Engine” light is still on. So now that my car was fixed it was providence to attend this funeral.

The sister who passed away was old, probably in her 60s or 70s. She had come here with her husband and sons a number of years ago from let’s say Bakhome-istan. The family owned a local ‘quicki mart store’ in our community and she sometimes worked there along with her husband who was there everyday. Her gnarled old hands rung up the items one by one and she never spoke a word of English. He too unfortunately is in the hospital right now and probably won’t recover. Her sons are grown and one lived there above the store with his family and kids and I think they lived there as well. The store is not in the best part of town but it is across the street from our inner city Masjid so got brisk business. It was probably the first time in history that the windows were darkened and the shop was closed up.

The Janazah had maybe a little over 100 people who came. A handful of family, 2 grandkids, some ppl from their country, some kids who came over from the school who had the grandkids in their classes, some who got the email from the listserv about a Janazah today. The service after Asr was very short. They brought the body in a white glossy coffin. We prayed the 4 Takbeerat and then it was over. They lifted her up and took her back to the hearst and most of the men went out with it. They plan to send the body back to her home to be buried.

I wrapped up and went back to my car around 7 and drove home alone.

I found this to be the saddest saddest funeral I’ve ever attended. A woman who traveled so far from her homeland in the hopes of a better life for her children and her children’s children. Who still are struggling and visibly hovering above poverty. I mean what did they come here for? I see so many of these struggling immigrants especially nowadays up here and especially in places like New York city. Anonymous, androgynous, working working middle class, barely scraping a living, their kids half way cultural half way in the shadows. Friendless but trying so hard to stick with their cultural kind. Praying regularly in the inner-city mosque. And now she’s dead and being sent back to her country to be buried.

What does it all mean? What did her life mean?
I don’t know. May Allah have mercy upon her soul and enter her into Jannatul firdous. Ameen.

Know thy rights… else perish.

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Salams,

Today in Albany there was a seminar at Albany Law School on Minority rights. Speakers were Khurrum Wahid from CAIR and David Soares, DA of Albany County.

It was interesting that the DA agreed to speak, but being a minority himself and this year being an election year? I think might have influenced him. He basically spoke about his background being the son of immigrants and why he chose law enforcement as a career. He also made some half-hearted attempts to defend the government and politics later on when other issues came up and ended with the ‘ole “us citizens need to get involved to make a change” stuff, but all in all it was nice he came to speak.

Next, they had three law students come up and do a skit on how law enforcement agents usually knock on a Muslim’s door and how they intimidate and coerce their way in and usually the poor immigrant doesn’t know any better, lets them in and offers them chai. The FBI agents then start their good cop/bad cop routine and begin asking “those” questions, i.e. Where do you work? What Mosque do you attend? How religious are you? Are you a terrorist? Do you support terrorism? What did you think of 9-11? What organizations are you affiliated with? Do you know this person? Etc etc.

Khurrum said as soon as we’ve let them in we’ve waived our fourth amendment right of search/seizure because now anything they see in plain view becomes evidence, including books, magazines, possibly anything. He cited a case in VA where they introduced into evidence a book (by a well known scholar but because of his whole the-Palestinians-have-the-right-to-defend-themselves fatwa is now considered jihadist literature). Then of course the agents start asking questions casually and when the immigrant is confused or doesn’t want to answer, they bring up the ‘Do you have something to hide?’ and the poor person keeps talking, thus waiving their 5th amendment right to remain silent. They continue to interrogate the person by asking more personal questions on their religious beliefs and the person continues answering thus also waiving their right to religious freedom.

So basically Khurrum’s point is that we are waiving away our rights and this needs to stop. He said our mantra should be “Just say No” when the FBI comes to our doors to question us. It is our right and it is cooperating with law enforcement. We don’t have anything to hide, we just want to go by the Constitution of the United States. He said we must not capitulate to bullying or threats like they will treat us harshly or investigate us more.

He explained that all of these questions and answers are entered into evidence and can be used against us. A perfect example is that he asked an audience member “Are you a member of a terrorist organization?” and of course audience member says “NO”. But does he even know what they consider to be a terrorist organization? Let’s say they come back next week and ask are you a member of XYZ let’s say Muslim Student’s Association and audience member says “Yes”, this organization can be on their list and they now can prosecute you under the code of lying to a federal officer which carries up to 5 years in prison!! Something I didn’t know that he also mentioned is that it is permissible for law enforcement to use deceit and deception in their questioning in order to elicit a certain response from you. Under threat, a person might then say anything about anyone in the community. It’s an ugly spiral.

David Soares acknowledged that law enforcement are allowed to use deception and he also defended their tactics and said that their job is to get information and they are allowed to get it in whatever manner possible.

There you have it. We have seen, with this case in Albany and other cases against Muslims across the Nation, that they are targeting Muslims and they will continue to single mindedly pursue convictions at all costs because there is a need to prove that they are winning the “War on Terror”.

So let’s get busy and try to see how we can defend ourselves.

IMPORTANT: Print this document and post it in your Mosque and put it on your fridge:

What To Do If the FBI or Department of Homeland Security Wants to Question You.

PDFs and in URDU, ARABIC, SPANISH, SOMALI, PUNJABI, and HINDI.