Description of Maqaam Ayuub
Maqaam Ayyub is the place where prophet Ayyub, Job (as) is buried. It’s somewhere south of Damascus near Bosra in the countryside. The pictures and the video don’t do justice to it. This place is seriously the most beautiful I’ve ever gazed upon and by now Alhamdulillah you must know I’ve seen a lot of places on this trip. I wish I could be buried there.
We parked our bus near here and walked (bus wouldn’t fit) through a little village to Ayyub’s well. This is where it is said he made wudu and washed with the water here and Allah cured him of his diseases. It seemed like a little stone house, but when we went inside it was filled with water. There were stone steps leading down and I remembered how some commentaries of the story of Yusuf talk about how the well wasn’t like some steep circular drop with a bucket like we think of nowadays, but actually had steep steps leading down into the water. (Hence, why Yusuf (as) was still alive when the caravan came.)
Some ppl in the group (can i say the brothers) weren’t sure about touching the water as it was non-moving still water in the middle of the Syrian countryside. But me and a few brave souls made wudu with the water and I even saved some of it in a little water bottle that I still have sitting on my shelf here in the US. Not sure what I’ll do with it, but I do feel it is water that Allah blessed.
I don’t have any pictures of the actual building that is the Maqam or Ayyub’s well, or what we visited after because my battery ran out! Note to self: when taking world trip buy second battery.
After the well, we walked some more and ended up at this little house and garden. We were told it was a maqaam of sahaba. (Forget which, I think a not relatively famous one, but will have to check my journal.) Again I was struck by how far the Sahabah had traveled to spread the Deen. This area was quite lush and I was surprised by all the plants and vegetable gardens around. We waited at the gate for a little while and then finally a tall striking black man in a grey dashdasha came to open the gate with this old key. Shazia whispered to me, “His face looks like he is half in this Dunya and half in the Akhirah.” SubhanAllah that’s what his face looked like I can’t even describe it. It was just otherworldy. So we all followed him reverently through the garden and into this little chamber single file and then when we were all done, he locked the door again then the gate and then disappeared back through the garden. Who was he? How’d he get there? Did he live there year round and take care of the Maqaam. What was it like to be a keeper of a Maqaam, living with the dead? I get chills just thinking about it.
Here’s a reflection upon contemplating the sunset across the road from Maqaam Ayyub:
The sky is robin egg blue
Undulating verdant hills fold out into the distance
Vineyards brilliant green against the gentle hills
And I am standing on the yellow dusty road
Watching pink gold light the sky
I have been here before
A dream within a dream
I walk and see the bottle
It is empty but labeled
Shards of glass within a glass
How can this place exist in a barren land?
How can summer rain gently fall on my face
warm from the sun?
How can Allah’s mercy exist through all my sins?
The cool grey rocks beckon
I sit holding my jar close to me
Sorrow, Grief and Shukr now fill it
I remind myself that this too
was Ayyub’s paradise.