Salams,

So you guys remember that blog post talking about the best place for Muslims to live in the US? I think I found it!! It’s the DC area. I just visited this past weekend. I thought it was Muslim friendly in that so many Muslims live there and there were so many amenities. We went to the mall and saw at least a dozen Hijabi sisters, no joke! It was like Eid or something There are quite a few Halal restaurants to choose from and there are so many Mosques and Muslim organizations. They have many Islamic programs going on for kids, students, sisters, adults. Plus being the DC area I’d assume there are a lot of gov’t related jobs. They weather is pretty moderate, they have seasons but not as bad snowstorms as us.

A lot of ppl who used to live up here have moved down to that area. I know personally at least 7 or 8 couples and 3 or 4 families just from up here! There seem to be a lot of young Muslim professionals, and young couples just starting families. Another thing is that ppl are used to Muslims around and don’t stare. A friend said their county is the most educated in the nation with the average education being a Masters degree! Where I was seemed mostly suburban, but the whole area is quite big and includes cities like Baltimore and Washington DC and cities in VA. It wasn’t as diverse as I thought it would be where I was but seemed diverse enough.

One problem is that they said it was expensive to live there. Rent is almost double what it is here. I also didn’t see a “Muslim area” where there were stores that sold food, clothes, books and things like there are in NYC and Chicago. There were a few that were very spread out. Traffic apparently is horrible and the average commute is pretty long because no one lives in the cities itself. I also didn’t like how focused on politics everyone was, but its probably part and parcel of living in the Capitol!!

I’ve been to other parts of the DC area over the years. I remember some MYNA conventions down there, I remember going down during the 90s for various protests in front of the white house. I went down with my family when I was like 14 and we saw the white house for the first time and various museums. I also went to one ISNA somewhere near the Baltimore harbor where we went out to dinner a few times which was really nice. I also went into downtown DC with a Malaysian sister once and we stayed at the Malaysian embassy which was a lot of fun! And I did go down there for a work trip one year.

I had a nice time though all in all and hope to visit again sometime!

Life in rural Texas has been interesting so far. In front of our house there are some shady trees and a long driveway that fronts a main Texas highway route. Sometimes I sit on the porch while the kids play on their bikes and watch the cars drive by. I guess that is a really Texan thing to do There are mostly older people that live around here and have done so for generations. Not much seems to change. It’s really a very peaceful existence.

Everything here is rather spread out though so there is no shortage of SUVs. We’ve driven to a few places so far, including the local Wal-mart at least 3 times a week!

There’s a Mosque very close to us but we’ve been so busy with the kids and the house that we haven’t had time to go for more than Jumah and a few classes. Sad, cuz I always thought I’d try to go to every prayer including Fajr since the weather is so nice and it’s only a hop, skip and a jump away!

I thought the Mosque would be more active but there’s not much going on in terms of social activities or programs. No one wants to help out or get involved too much. Most people seem to be here only on a temporary basis until they can move to Dallas or some other big city.  Some marry non-Muslims and are busy and not so involved with the Muslim community. Some of their kids come to the Mosque but they are pretty obviously lost. Alhamdulillah there is a little Islamic school here but most parents take their kids out after kindergarten looking for ‘more rigorous academics’ for their children. I guess that’s the story of Muslims in small town America.

At night the parking lot’s huge stadium lights get turned on and local Muslim kids show up to play cricket until 3am. Sometimes they bring their hookahs or try to do donuts or drag race in the parking lot. Guess there’s not much else to do and at least they’re doing something “wholesome” instead of going to clubs!

Nature here is really nice. Not quite tropical, but dry and has a beauty of its own. Especially the wide open land everywhere. So many beautiful different kinds of birds too that even start warbling at 2am. The weather is dry and warm. Hot in the middle of the day but so very nice in the evenings and mornings. We also experienced our first Texan rainstorm which was very scary, especially when hail started coming down! Sometimes there’s a nice breeze during the day. I kind of like life here except that I miss people. Like having friends, going out to restaurants, shopping (besides walmart!) or the movies. And the open hostility from strangers is kind of scary. We went with the kids to an arts and crafts fair in town and as soon as we got out of the car we got stares and glaring. I doubt they have ever seen a Muslim in their life except for on TV with those scenes of terrorism or Afghanistan etc. But instead of curiosity or friendliness there’s a lot of hatred. Guess we really are in Bush country.

Allrightey, so there’s a Texan update from me y’all! c u soon
ws

 

Last week I took a trip to visit my friend who lives in the North Carolina Raleigh-Durham area. I found the area to be very green with a lot of stately old trees and pines. They seem to be everywhere!  My friend said they might have some kind of law that everything has to be covered with trees. So houses are set back from the streets covered by trees, apartment developments are set inside gates surrounded by trees, even those little plazas with different stores are so covered by trees and shrubbery that you have no idea what could be inside! You can’t really get a feel for the real city life there which is why my friend doesn’t like it too much.

So I visited a local Mosque, the UNC Chapel Hill campus, some gardens near Duke University and attended a fundraiser for another local Mosque. The community seemed kinda Arab flavored but they had a number of Desi stores and restaurants. It seemed somewhat cultural because while I was in town they had a Turkish festival which was fun to attend. This area has what’s known as the Research Triangle, a corridor of huge high tech companies. This is what probably keeps it diverse and it also surprisingly had a large Hispanic population? Always good to have brown ppl around I say Everything seemed really nice but I still don’t think I’d want to live there.

The area where I live now in upstate New York is supposed to be diverse because of all the universities nearby and our proximity to New York City, but it isn’t. It has an overwhelmingly non-culture exploring white population. Which is fine, but having grown up here all my life I still feel “not welcome”, even when walking down my own street. The other MAJOR problem with this area is the weather: 9 months of brutal winter is truly hard to take.

I don’t really know what area is better for Muslims to live in. I think that country-wise the UK/Europe and Australia seem extremely racist and my father refused to settle in both those countries for that reason. The US does have a more open nature being a younger country and less into classicism, doesn’t really have a culture and is used to immigrants. Canada might actually be more diverse and open to immigrants.

In the US I think the NY, NJ area is out even though there are many Muslims the lasting bias of 9/11 has really affected morale, businesses and activity there. Moving South the DC area has a very vibrant young Muslim community but everyone is soo into politics there. Really, like even housewives that’s all they talk about!  I can’t really take that much political debate and whatnot lol. The Carolinas we covered. I think Atlanta is way too urban and South but it’s next on my list to visit so we’ll see. Florida is nice but no one wears clothes and seems like a lot of retired ppl. The Midwest’s big cities could be nice, depending on the communities but I think they mostly have the same problem of lack of diversity. Houston/TX area has their own culture which I think is really at odds with Muslims but they seem to tolerate us well enough. California I think has the naked ppl problem again, extreme beauty consciousness and earthquakes! but sounds like it’s a lot more diverse than anywhere else, has the high tech jobs, large Muslim populations and activities. I’ve heard its extremely expensive to live there though, but who knows. Another area that might be good is the Chicago area, which has a really explosive Desi population and numerous Mosques and schools.  Their winters though I’ve heard are pretty ugly too.

I really don’t know where Muslims should settle but I think exploring different areas is always good!

I took a number of beautiful nature pictures from the Duke Gardens and areas around the University of North Carolina Chapel Hill so check them out here: Gallery of Nature Pics from NC

Also, here are a couple pictures from my trip with more descriptions:

I am sitting in one of those little food courts in Newark airport. Straight ahead of me are a row of windows that show the most famous skyline silhouette in the world: NYC. I can see the Empire State building and the many other beautiful modern buildings of New York. The view I have though is kind of funny. Underneath that, as if there were a sea, I see only the tails of planes moving back and forth like they were shark tails! They slowly move back and forth as if searching for prey.

I drink my Dunkin Donuts tea and hear my stomach growl. How can I be hungry at 8am, I’m never even up at this hour.

Looking at the sea of planes moving, I wonder how many planes I have ever been on. Trips when I was a baby from India to Australia, to the UK, to the US. Growing up and visiting grandparents, aunts & uncles & cousins in India every few years. All the trips going to conferences, ISNA’s and ICNA’s in Daytons and Indianapolis and Chicago, visiting Texas. Then traveling to Damascus, to Cairo, to Amman, to Dubai, to Umrah, to Hajj. Even at Hajj I flew from Makkah to Madinah. And then all my work trips to Cleveland, to Miami, to San Antonio, to Pennsylvania, to Kansas City. Perhaps dozens?!

So many trips on a plane, not even counting each leg of a journey. How is it that I have been on a plane so much in my life, flying through the air, as if this kind of travel were normal. How many airports have I been in, how many flights have I been on. More than any person has a right to be I think. Alhamdulllah nothing has happened all those times but one day my luck could run out.

Sometimes when I’m flying I look down and I see these beautiful houses surrounded by land and trees isolated in wilderness with maybe farms around it and a pond nearby. Like it’s own little kingdom down there. Why do I keep flying from city to city instead of settling down on some such emerald green isle?

As I travel, I meet people who have lived in the same place their whole lives, indeed generations. Unfortunately we can’t seem to go back to that beautiful village kind of life, where you grew up in the same ancestral home of your parents and grandparents and stayed there and had your kids and raised them there. I think life for most people has been the same for hundreds of years until these last 50 years. These last years have brought the greatest amount of rapid changes…cars, air travel, computers. We will never be the same.

Some changes are so amazing like access to Hajj. Millions of visitors from all parts of the world that would never have been able to perform the pilgrimage or would have perished on the way can now travel easily and see the House of God. Could that be worth all the changes of the last 50 years? I am amazed I live in this era where I travel to India and back, and Damascus and back, and New York City and back.

Hundreds of years ago there were those invertebrate travelers like Ibn Batuta. He never stayed in one place. He just kept going. Maybe I am more Ibn Batuta than villager. Even though I yearn for both. I think though I am a traveler at heart. Every time I remain in the same place for a long time I feel depressed. Traveling I think brings out different aspects of yourself. You break your routine, you’re out of your element. It’s just you and nothing else. I think it brings out the best in me. When I meet new people I feel like I can start again, be the person I want to be. I can look back from afar and contemplate my life, I can see what is out there in the world, what my choices are.

When I was younger and first started traveling for work, it made me realize I might never have the ‘things’ other people had ie their ‘wealth’ or ‘perfect lives and families’ or ‘lifestyle’. But I think time brings maturity and now I know to be content about who and what I am. I could never be those people and they could never be me. I know I have much to improve. Every time I come back from somewhere I’m ready to try to fix the past, tackle my problems again, ready to try to change anew. Perhaps this is my way of repentance.

Sometimes airports make me feel extremely lonely especially when I’m traveling by myself. And then sometimes they give me some kind of solace. Perhaps the same kind of solace I’d get watching fish swim in the sea. I watch all the people pulling their suitcases behind them, pushing baby carriages onto the escalators, talking on their phones, hurrying to their next destination. It’s fascinating yet what does it mean.

The odd thing is that on all my travels I’ve never actually met someone I knew randomly. Only after ISNA do I see some random Muslims taking flights home at O’Hare or something, but traveling so much, to so many cities and countries, I’ve never met anyone I know at all. It’s just amazing that there are so many people in the world. I keep seeing newer and newer people and I have no idea who they are. How small we are. Flying over cities of millions of people each one with their own lives and concerns and problems. It makes my problems seem small and petty. I can’t question why any more. Why me? I am me. I can’t change it. I have to accept it and move on. Work with what I have. Believe in the uniqueness of me.

Who was it who said traveling was like leaving home a sharp ragged rock and coming home a smooth stone. Surely someone who was an avid traveler

Here’s a little ditty for you that you can sing while you swig back a few of those mini cans of something on ur next trip.

A Traveler

Airports, Airports

Travelers weary;

Crying babies,

Hugging lovers;

Laptops aplenty.

I wish I may,

I wish I might,

Travel to Acapulco

Tonight!

Engrossed in spreadsheets

While your flight’s delayed,

You miss the moving sidewalks

Speeding visitors by.

Ancient caravanserais,

Modern lounges,

Both beg the question:

Why bring more than you can carry?!

She’s carrying a Coach,

But I think it’s fake.

A little giggle,

Over the guy that’s asleep;

But I wonder over

The 6 inch stilettos

On that Swedish stewardess!

Hudson news,

Selling gum and the Times;

Borders books,

Browse but don’t buy.

(at full price)

Drinking a Snapple

As I spy the pilot,

His luggage one bag

Now that’s a real traveler!

Cairo – Al Qahira – City Victorious Part I

Cairo, Al-Qahira, City Victorious, City of a Thousand Minarets, Islamic Cairo, Fatamid Cairo, Ancient Cairo, New Cairo. “You would be mistaken if you think of Cairo as one city, because it is not”, said Leyla as she deftly changed gears and sped narrowly around the car in front of us, missing it’s bumper by inches, her perfectly matching scarf layers fluttering in the wind. We were in her little car around 11pm, heading back from a day at a villa in a nearby area outside of Cairo. The traffic was horrendous even at that time. We were passing by rows of glitzy shops, BMWs and women coming out of restaurants wearing sequined tops and jeans. This was the New Downtown, she told us. I could have been anywhere in the world, like LA or downtown Manhattan, but every now and then I’d see a man in a Jalabiyya on the street and remember with a little shock that I’m in Egypt.

Ever since leaving New York I’ve been feeling like Alice who fell down into a new world, where nothing is like what she expected. My trip first started out at JFK where as our plane headed to the runway we were told we were 8th in line and would have to wait 50 minutes. After a while the pilot came on and told us that we would have to return to the terminal “because a mother had left her baby behind”! This caused a lot of surprise and shock and a murmur went up in the whole plane, and an older woman in front quipped in Arabic that she could understand leaving her husband behind but not her child! This caused a lot of laughter and I remembered that Egyptians were always known for their good senses of humor. So our plane turned around on the tarmac and we headed towards the terminal. I called my dad from my cell phone and told him to try to email my sister and brother-in-law to tell them I’d be about 2 hours late because of what happened. He said, well you never know about these things, sometimes they tell passengers one thing but really it’s something else. I said, how could they make a story like that up!

All the TV screens were tuned to the camera in front of the plane and a few minutes later, all of a sudden we see 4 or 5 police cars and security vehicles surround the front of the plane effectively stopping us dead on the tarmac. It was like a scene out of a movie. “Uh oh” we all thought. For half a second I was scared there was some kind of hostage situation. But as we waited a long while nothing happened. Finally the pilot came on and said on request of the authorities the “American” mother was taken off the plane and arrested and they were just trying to get her luggage off.

Finally it was taken care of and we headed back and lifted off. The seat next to me was empty but next to that was an Egyptian from Boston. He turned out to be very friendly and helpful and said he was a Halal grocery store owner in Boston and visited Egypt often to see his mother and family. We chatted about Islam in America a little and about educating children as he had two kids back in Boston. Egypt is a wonderful country he said, but the problem is the management. Everyone is corrupt and the country has progressed little even in the last 50 years. They are all waiting for Nasser to die for the country to progress, he said. But the Egyptian people, he said, were great. He told me a little about the famous sites and said he was sure I’d enjoy my trip.

As we neared Egypt, we flew right over Sharm-al-Shaykh, a resort that catered mostly to Westerners. The sea turned into beaches and land and then we flew over green fertile farmlands that had twisting irrigation canals between them until finally I saw buildings upon buildings. From the air it seemed like a metropolis- megapolis. Towns and cities all seemed to merge together, it was endless and huge. Was this all Cairo? Suddenly, it turned into desert and all I saw were dunes and sand hills and then pyramids! There were three perfect pyramids right there underneath us. I was so excited I exclaimed “Pyramids! There are the pyramids!” and the whole plane turned to stare at me and then out their windows. The pilot must have heard me too and came on to tell us we had a nice view of the Giza pyramids to our left. It seemed like we did a perfect arc right around the pyramids and I got one of the most spectacular, amazing views of my life.

As I got off the plane, my new seat companion Omar showed me where to get a visa and helped me get my luggage. We headed out to the receiving area and I introduced him to my family and with a wave he left, saying “Come visit my store in Boston!”

End of part 1

Salaams,

I just posted a retreat reflection for this year on the board, so check it out

http://archives.themadina.com/index.php?topic=2373.0

* Retreat Reflections Photo Album *

For seven years I have been coming to this rock. Sometimes in the dead of winter, when the trees are bare and there are feet of snow outside and it is freezing cold, I think of myself here. Sitting on this rock as I am now with the green dappling leaves from the trees giving me shade. The sun sparkling on the water as far as the mountains. The mountains shades of pine, blues and grey. The clouds light and puffy, sometimes coming near, sometimes going far.

I am happy here. Why is it that only in this place, on this rock I am content with my life. Yet all through the year all I feel are anxieties and heartache. I am indeed a sinner, but thankful that this tiny slice, this tiny glimpse of peace is shown to me once a year.

There are seven years of memories here. I still remember the first time we came to this retreat site. It was un-chartered, unexplored. We walked down towards the Lakehouse and caught our breath as we saw water rising in front of it and thought it was the most magical place.

My memories are bittersweet. Some are happy memories of laughing on the canoes and making dhikr in tune to our rowing. Our “year of mujahadah”, which looking back on now is quite amusing. All the wonderful classes and revelations and the most beautiful group of Muslims gathered from such various far away places. Then there are the painful memories of understanding the import of our sins and feeling the anguish of our tawbah. I miss my old friends too, the fellow brothers and sisters who had started this journey with me seven years ago. Some have lagged behind the caravan and some have gone far ahead of us.

*****

This yearly spiritual retreat in the Adirondack Mountains is organized by the Shaikh and his students and held at a Christian camp/retreat site. As the legend goes, the Shaikh decided to go to a “Save the Adirondacks” meeting in Albany one day and there he met Kent. Kent looks like a typical outdoorsy, surfer guy – blonde, blue eyes and long hair. They began to talk and the Shaikh found out that Kent runs a Christian camping center and since he had been looking for just such a thing they became fast friends!

The first year we came to this retreat site, we were about twenty people and we only stayed in the lodge with two or less! people per room. We had class for about two hours in the afternoon and all the rest of the time was ours to do whatever we wanted. The sisters would get together and go swimming in the evenings. Our kitchen lady ‘Margaret’ would make us special meals and desserts. We were the first to explore the campsite and everything was a new discovery. We canoed in our lake on whichever days had good weather and held our classes on couches in the Lakehouse with the windows open so we could hear the waves against the rocks. Kent invited us to a barbeque with his camp counselors where they sang some songs for us. We used to clean the tables and kitchen after every meal until the “Ottawan brother’s clean-up crew” volunteered to take over for us. A sister, just out of camp kindness, would take our clothes, wash them for us, fold them and put everyone’s clean clothes in their room. Ahhh- those were the good old days!

Nowadays we spend months beforehand in preparation for the retreat. Updating the website, setting up registration, vetting applications, collecting deposits and answering questions. As the retreat dates comes closer there’s more and more work. Every retreat staff’s complaint is that they spend the majority of their time organizing and very little being a participant. On top of that is the constant feeling that something is wrong with us because we don’t feel the same things or reach the same spiritual levels as the others.

After seven years of organizing, things are somewhat easier, but the retreat is still a huge undertaking.

Alhamdulillah, this year we had over seventy registrants from all over the US and Canada. Ma’shaAllah they were all very dedicated, good people. There are the usual college MSA kids, some aunties, some young couples, a doctor and his wife who come every year, Canadians who love to cross the border, locals who came up for the weekend and so on.

Every retreat year has its own flavor with different people, events, and tone. This year’s retreat was 10 days, which started with 7 straight days of classes: 3 hours in the afternoon, an hour and a half after Asr, two hours after Maghrib and the majority stayed awake after Fajr until Shuruq. The tiny pieces of free time we had were spent for the staff: taking care of registration, money or other things, or for the participants: writing summaries and revising notes. The last three days were spent in outdoor events such as canoeing and hiking.

*****

This year we went to two new places. One was a very long hike to three successive waterfalls called Hope Falls. This was about a 4 mile hike one way. It was long, but seeing the waterfalls made it worth it. We also saw a baby bear climb a tree not far from us!

The second place was canoeing down Kunjamuk River, a beautiful curvy canal/creek like expedition which was absolutely stunning. We passed four beaver dams as our challenges where we had to stop and get out of our canoes in order to get them over or in some places even carry our canoes around to the other side. This definitely left a newfound respect for beavers in us!

After we made it past all of them we stopped at a little area offshore in a forest to pray and eat lunch. The skies darkened and thunder crackled above us. The sheikh came over from the woods to tell us not to be scared and related a hadith that says that during a storm, the thunder is in dhikr and the angels are in fear of Allah swt. We sat and watched the rain on the river while the tall, stately pines of the forest protected us. The rain drops hit the water in the river and created bubbles on the surface called habb al-maa. This habb we learned in class is related to the Mahabbah (love) of Allah. If one’s love is sincere it will always rise to the surface like the bubbles on water and become apparent. One simply cannot hide their true love.

After our lunch and khalwa time, we headed back through the river in the light rain. My canoeing partner and I went first and it felt like we were the first explorers to come to this place. We soon canoed right onto a beautiful little lake surrounded by mountains. It had stopped raining and there was mist and fog all around us. Long grass, bamboo and water lilies surrounded the edges. The sun was setting in the distance in a show of yellows, reds and pinks. It was like a virtual scene out of some fantasy reality. We set our paddles up and just sat floating, staring at the absolute beauty around us. We heard the birds calling each other, and the frogs singing. We watched the water begin to turn pink from the sunset. We must have stayed there for half an hour or more. No one wanted to leave. It was truly one of the most beautiful experiences I’ve ever had at the retreat and a highlight for this year.

The last day of the retreat this year, we went hiking to Augur Falls, which is an old favorite for everyone. It’s a rather large creek that starts out gently tumbling over rocks until it turns into raging rapids and at one point makes a sharp 90-degree turn. Some huge rocks overlook this turn and this is where we sat eating our lunches, contemplating and doing dhikr. After a while I decided to take off my socks and shoes and put my feet in the water.

The water from the waterfall was warm and felt so nice as it rushed past my feet. I just sat there for a long time with the water going over my feet, wondering where all this water came from, gallons and gallons every second all the way down, turning and continuing somewhere else. The water was crystal clear. It felt so refreshing and clean. I had this incredible urge to just jump into the middle of the Falls and sit there in the water, letting it rush over me and cleanse me completely of all my sins, all my memories, all my faults, all my envy, all my hate, all my mistakes. I could just sit there for hours until I was so completely clean and pure. How clean would I be then compared to just making wudu with the water. It came to me that that water rushing over a person continuously is like someone in continuous tawbah and a person who just uses the water to make wudu is like one who has made istighfar once. The difference is clearer to me now and I realize the need for being in tawbah all the time.

I am sad to be back home again, but am hopeful that the retreat memories from this year can inshaAllah carry me to the next.

One year ago today….

It is the Day of Arafat! All the women of our tent woke up around 3:00 A.M. and have since been busily preparing by changing, taking showers, packing separately what to take with them. Now some are making Dhikr, reading Dua books or Qurans, sitting on their little folding mattress beds in the tent. Most of the women are wearing white or at least white scarves. All of the Hujaaj will have to move to Arafat today, inshaAllah by noon, if not then by Maghrib, if not then they must by the Fajr of the next day. The trip in normal traffic takes 15 minutes but can take up to 15 hours! (My advice to the Saudis is that they should make some express lanes for buses.)

Labayk allahmumma labayk! We are going to Arafat to acknowledge our sins, our imperfections, to beg Allah for forgiveness and to cleanse ourselves. It is a Day of Repentance and Forgiveness. It is the day Shaitan hates the most because Allah frees the most people from Hellfire on this day. All over the world except in Arafat Muslims will be fasting in remembrance of the special-ness of this day. I am so thankful to be among the ones to stand in Arafat in supplication. Last year helicopters even flew some sick people over Arafat who were lying prone in the helicopters in the hopes of gaining some Shifaa from this day and place.

First light – …Crowds and crowds of people are moving. They are on top of jeeps, Maruti vans, even on the back of pickup trucks. They are walking, thousands and thousands. Group leaders hold up umbrellas with dangling ribbons or flags or wear bright colored patches or shirts. A few motorcycles whiz by. Parents grip their children’s hands. I saw a mother carrying her little baby as she walked at dawn. Some pull along carryons. Some carry blankets in clear plastic bags. One man carries a Tasbih in one hand and a folded prayer mat in the other. He walks in long paced strides. It is perhaps 3 miles. Now they are allowing buses on the other side of the road to go the other direction. All traffic is flowing out of Mina towards Arafat. The sky still holds a delicate pink eggshell color.

Here a mother pushes a wheelchair with an elderly woman and two of her little children sit on the grandmother’s lap. Faces … Turkish, Indian, Afghani, white, brown, black, beards no beards, black Hijab white Hijab. A little baby with a snow cap peeks up from his father’s shoulder. “We are coming Allah! we are coming!” There, a little girl of 6 in a bright pink jacket and pony tails. An old African man with a noble face wears wooden brown beads around his neck. An Arab man with spectacles carries a folded up Oriental rug. Some Sudani women carry their blankets on their heads. We pass the Indonesian camps on our left and the Pakistani flag flies on our right.

11AM … Alhamdulillah we are in Arafat. We were here by 9:30AM which is a miracle according to those who have made Hajj before. I am outside our tent which is full of women lounging, resting or making Dhikr. On the street numerous people and groups are going back and forth trying to find their camp or a place to stay. Helicopters constantly fly overhead. A while ago some people broke part of our camp gate made of aluminum siding and tons of people started pouring in here like mad. They were so elated at breaking in! The guards hurried to fix the wall.

I see all these mothers carrying their young babies and walking in the hot sun. I don’t know how they do it. I don’t know how those men stay sitting on top of moving vehicles without falling off. A group goes by with the leader holding up a long stick with a can of soda and a plastic bottle attached to it.

This tent is surrounded by sand. I wonder how this plain was at the time of the prophet (s). I heard there were no trees here even 20 years ago. Now there are trees all through this desert. A sign of the Day of Judgment. There is a Hadith about how Bedouins will grow trees in the desert at the last hour. We are so many Muslims here … so many, but look at our position in the world. Why are we the poorest, most backward, illiterate, lacking good manners and politeness? It almost hurt to be in Madinah and know what was going on around the prophet saw.

6:00PM … Arafat is over. Alhamdulillah. It was so amazing and so cleansing. People rested in their tents until Zuhr and then we all went into one big tent separated into women’s and men’s. There someone hung up a makeshift loudspeaker that was going in and out. Luckily the speaker was nearby and we could hear him. He talked about how important it was for us to repent and acknowledge all our sins to Allah. The sins we’ve made with our eyes, our hands, our private parts, etc. A knowledgeable sister in our group also gave us a pep talk. I was almost nervous with anticipation for Zuhr to start.

As soon as we said salaam I jumped up and headed for my spot. The place where our tents were situated was pretty barren but a few of us ended up on the other side of the tent next to the road, which was under some shade and relatively private. There we made our Duas. All the while people were going to and fro. As soon as it became close to Maghrib, like around 4:30 there was a huge rush as people packed up their stuff back into their vehicles and buses and started moving off. I wanted to say “Wait! It’s not Maghrib yet!”  We too had to head towards the buses before the sound of Athaan. Dad said “That’s it! Hajj is over!” and I said “What! There’s still so much to go … the stoning, the Tawafs” …May Allah make it easy for us to fulfill them.

On the way back to our buses we found a woman sitting in a chair crying surrounded by people. Apparently she had lost her group and in fact didn’t know what group was hers. I could commiserate remembering the feelings of total panic at the beginning of the trip.