My First Masjid...

that is, my first mosque, was an amazing and emotional experience. It was Saturday, February 27 at 5:00pm when Rabbi Lynn helped Carolyn and I wrap our scarves around our heads and necks to cover our hair. She said we looked perfect.

I was uncomfortable.

We got in the car and started driving to the Mosque. I became even more nervous. I wondered if someone would mistake me for Muslim. Not for the reason you are thinking. If I was mistaken for Muslim, that would be no problem, but what if someone hurt me because I was wearing a head scarf? I was scared.

We finally arrived, and the parking lot was full, so we asked some guys in the parking lot where we should go. Lynn took our "potluck" food offering and Carolyn and I adventured to park the car. I voiced my nervousness, and she seconded it.

My nervousness now turned towards the place of worship we were about to enter. Some young men stood at the door. I was scared and wasn't really sure what to do, so I pretended like I wasn't nervous and smiled and said hello to everyone who looked at me.

We removed our shoes, then we entered what I would call the sanctuary. It was breathtaking. Deep blue tiles covered the walls and beautiful pieces of art/Arabic writings hung everywhere. There was a group of elder women sitting in the corner, and various groups of men talking and kids running around everywhere. I continued to try to smile at people.

I don't know how much time passed when a woman approached us, I will call her Angela. She smiled and asked us where we were from and why we were visiting. Then the call to evening prayer came. A few other ladies said we could sit and watch along the edge, and Angela said we could sit along the edge, or if we wanted to participate in the motions of the prayer, she would show us what to do. Throughout the prayer, and the Sufi chant/circle, she translated and shared what the words and motions signified.

We then had dinner, and the Shaykh spoke afterwards. He spoke of many things. It was Muhammad's birthday. The connection that was felt to the Prophet was visible. He spoke about watermelon and cucumber, and how similar they were. He then spoke of pretending. He said that we must admit to ourselves that we are not good people, but that we must pretend that we are. We must admit that we do not love one another as we ought, but we must pretend that we do. For if we pretend that we do, maybe one day, we will forget that we are pretending.

The woman sitting next to me, started whispering the countries of origin of the parishioners; Afghanistan, India, Pakistan, Egypt, Palestine, Brazil, Sudan, Russia, Ireland, she rarely repeated a country. I was amazed at the diversity.

We continued to another Sufi circle dance/chant. Again, Angel came and translated for us. There were only two phrases that I could recognize. One meant that there is no other God than God. And the other, Hi, meant Everlasting God.

We left shortly after this part of the worship. It was nearly 10:30, and the night was not over. And though it was Muhammad's birthday, this was not an extra long service, this was normal. I sank into thought. We got back to Stony Point, and I did not take my scarf off. I had become accustomed to wearing it.

all for me, for now.
katie