31. “Imam” (The Hajj Journal)

September 24, 2015

One amazing thing happened in Muzdalifah. At one point, I was washing my hands, and heard one of the groups behind me praying. The imam had a very, very familiar recitation.

“No way,” I said out loud.

I turned around and, surely enough, leading the prayer was Imam Mohammed Raqih, the imam of the Wetaskiwin mosque. SubhanAllah, at the exact same place and time, across the world, we were there. Continue reading “31. “Imam” (The Hajj Journal)”

22. “Jummah” (The Hajj Journal)

Minarets at the Haram

September 18, 2015

The sun is blazing above me and I’m drenched in sweat as I sit in the outside courtyard of the Haram. It’s Friday, so the shops are closed and the people gather for Jummah prayer. I’m wearing my prayer rug on my had to protect my nearly-bald scalp from getting any more burned than it is—a tactic I learned from seeing people doing the same… Continue reading “22. “Jummah” (The Hajj Journal)”

We Are Home

Home

Today, the mosque in the town of Cold Lake, Alberta was vandalized. Windows were smashed, and the vandals spray painted the walls. “Go home” was scrawled in crimson red. And if you were to ask the vandal what they meant by “home”, they would probably be as specific as “Saudi Arabia” or as vague as “the Middle East”. Never mind that the highest concentration of Muslims is in Indonesia, the implication is that somehow by virtue of being Muslim, our home is across the ocean, in a land many of us have never visited with people we have never met. That we are strangers due to our race and creed, foreigners in our own land.

Continue reading “We Are Home”