Not too far away in Alaska, a scaled red salmon slithered and writhed upstream. The fish danced its way across rocks and its gleaming body charged up and up and up.  What a strange sight it seemed. The salmon that tried and succeeded to swim against the currents.

The Alaskan salmon is a fascinating creature that can offer us points of wisdom through its life. The salmon hatches into fresh water at the spawning ground from where it swims downstream to live and grow. The fish adapts to survive in salt water, schools with other salmon, and swims to the Gulf of Alaska and Bering Sea. Here, the salmon grows until it reaches adulthood and knows when it is time to spawn and return back to where it was born.

Now comes the time in the journey when the salmon must exert most effort to swim back upstream and reach the spawning ground. The salmon’s body once again adjusts to return back to fresh water. The journey involves pushing against strong currents and even leaping over waterfalls. The salmon that succeeds in reaching the spawning grounds gives birth to her eggs. Within the next two weeks, the salmon dies from the wearying journey that guided her to her place of birth.

There are two main lessons that we can learn from the Alaskan salmon’s life:

Don’t be afraid to swim against the current and remember your goal

The beauty of Islam is that we can worship Allah through everything we do. Allah (SWT) created the role for the salmon to swim upstream and lay its egg. This is the salmon’s job and it fulfills this goal till the end of its life. What about our goals and aspirations? We should remember that we have a goal on this earth too and it is the worship of Allah (SWT). The transient quality of this life is a factor one always needs to keep in  their mind, which makes it easier to challenge the status quo.

The young girl’s hands tremble as she struggles with a blue hijab pin. “What will my friends say…what if people start treating me differently?” The girl thinks as she dons the hijab in front of the mirror and the image of her friends surfaces into her mind. She sits down on her bed and glances at the Qur’an that graces her night stand. Her fingers lightly skirt the edges of the cover. A feeling of contentment washes over her as she thinks, “you’re doing the right thing and you will always have Allah.” The girl sinks her feet into her shoes and glides out the door.

The statement “majority is authority” is drilled painstakingly with a hammer and nail to emphasize that if one goes against the majority then they are not an ‘insider’ and should be devolved into the ‘other.’ It is often difficult to challenge the view of the majority especially if it goes against ones beliefs.

“We buy things we don’t need with money we don’t have to impress people we don’t like.” 
― Dave Ramsey

The goal to please people will never be achieved because people can never be entirely pleased. Before the young girl wore the hijab, her family always commented on her hair and the type of clothes she wore. After she crowned her head with the soft silk cloth, the twitters of her family and friends reached a new pitch, “why are you hiding your beautiful hair? I can’t see your face properly.”

Islam allows us to focus past the material, past the wealth, the facade, the masks and realize the true goal of our lives: the worship of Allah SWT. And no one said it would be easy. Wearing hijab or niqaab, praying in public at the time of prayer, stopping family or friends from backbiting – these are action points that one needs to hold on to, which rattles the majority but at the end of the journey who is it better to please? People? Who will always find faults in all circumstances. Or Allah? the One who created us and the One whose pleasure will never fail us.

The majority of people will bend and twist a person until they begin to drift away from Allah. The majority seem like the authority. However, remember the goal of sincere worship to Allah and remember He will not leave His servant. The waves will overpower and the currents too strong for oneself to reach for a root to clutch onto. Though like the salmon who tried and tried and swam till she reached the spawning grounds, Muslims cannot lose hope and give up. The thought that “I tried my best to obey Allah SWT’s commands in face of difficulty” should be of some comfort because what is this life but a struggle and the ultimate resting place is paradise.

Leave a good legacy

The salmon’s struggle and striving had a purpose and what they leave behind is a new generation of salmon that will continue the same journey their mother went through. Humans want to be remembered after they are gone – everyone wants to leave a legacy in some form. Whether through charitable work or a kind gesture. As Muslims, our goal should be towards leaving a good athaar (traces). Going against the majority is a constant struggle and there will be days when one will feel overwhelmed by the crashing waves and strong current. There will be days when one looks in the mirror and asks, “Am I doing the right thing?”

The salmon’s journey parallels a metaphorical journey for Muslims that shows how this world is a test and as Muslims, we should never give up hope in ourselves and others. Always remember the power of du’a and the fact that if people abandon you there is One who will never abandon you and that is Allah SWT.

Fatima A. hails from a country that is not short of snow, igloos, and Tim Horton’s. Fatima is pursuing an undergraduate degree at the University of Toronto in Political Science and History. Her past-times include continuing her studies of Islam, attempts at making complicated desserts, and hanging out with her nieces.

Something I have recently noticed in the Muslim Community is Mothers are finding the need to defend their Birth stories, as though it needs explanation. It often seems like the friends and family of the birth mother are more interested in the “big question” rather than Mom’s emotional health. What? you don’t know what “big question” I am referring to? Let me paint a picture of what this looks like, for about 90% of new mothers…

Mom gets a few visitors at the hospital. She quickly pulls herself together hoping to look somewhat attractive. She finds the energy to put on a smile and greet her guests. Hoping the guests will do nothing but admire her baby, but after some initial meet and greet… the question eventually surfaces. “So I am guessing now that you know what labor is really like, your plan for a natural birth went out the window. Did you take the epidural when it was offered to you?” Mom hesitates, gulps and tries to avoid the question. She starts to tell the whole story, and ends up justifying and defending why her birth plan changed. She is Defending her Birth Story. However, at this point the visitors are not listening anymore. They heard what they wanted and that’s the answer to their burning question.

So, what exactly is wrong with this picture?  The thing is, Mom herself, has not had the time to process her own birth experience. She is burnt out from her adrenaline rush, eager to nurse her adorable baby and trying to remember where she put the extra baby blankets at home. At this point, Mom may not even remember all the details of her birth story.  The last thing she needs in an interview every time she meets an “experienced” mother.

People need to be more sensitive when it comes to how others have birthed. Just because you have experience does not mean you are necessarily qualified to truly educate someone on what birth could or should look like. Some will tell you that to aim for a natural birth is “unrealistic.”  Others may say things like “birth is too painful.”  That may have been true for them… but not for everyone.

I always heard while growing up that experience is the best teacher. Experience is a great teacher. However, there are two types of experiences: your own experiences and the experiences of others. We have all been to our own births. This means we are very qualified to talk about our own experiences, whether it is 2, 3, 4 or 5 births. But how many of us can say that we have been present for the entire time in the delivery room during someone else’s birth? What about 2, 3, 4 or 5 other women’s births?

The thought I want to leave you with is this: does the answer to the burning question really matter? Our community has become obsessed with the curiosity of birth. Sometimes even the Fathers will discuss births and ask the same questions as us women. When we wrap ourselves up in what doesn’t matter, we detract from what really does. A beautiful baby!

Whatever route he/she came by, it is always a blessing from Allah to hold a new life in your hands.

Birth is intimate, it is private and it is memorable- so long as we let it be.

By: Hira Khan
Doula, Mommy blogger
blog: alif2yaa.blogspot.com

In a culture that is so immersed in the idea of individualism and rights, a society that is so obsessed with the dogma of “me”, it is often easy to forget that there is a world out there that is bigger than ourselves. As a fairly average American Muslim, I did not really know what my expectations were for my Umrah trip. I looked at pictures, I listened to the recollections of others’, searched YouTube videos of the Ka’bah. However, having never actually being there before, I really had no idea what awaited me. People have been asking me ever since I got back how I felt when I first saw the Ka’bah. Without trying to be irreverant, I often have to honestly answer, that I did not have much of a reaction. And it had nothing to do with the Ka’bah. It was just that, for the first time in my life, I witnessed what it means to be in the midst of, quite literally, a sea of poeple. The first time I entered Masjid Al-Haram, I was clinging on to my friend and praying that I don’t get pushed or shoved, and lose her. (Of course, when I finally did get across this sea and found myself a spot to pray, I was in complete and total awe of the Ka’bah and all my surroundings, but that is a whole other post on it’s own!).  You see, during Ramadan, which is the most blessed month of the year, many people like to spend such a barakah-filled time in Makkah, the most blessed place in the world- so much so, that this year, Makkah was more crowded during Ramadan than it has been during Hajj the past couple of years.

What do I mean when I say, it was crowded? I mean, imagine the most crowded Eid prayer you have ever been to and then multiply that number by a few thousand! During Taraweeh or Qiyam during those nights, I think I made sujood on people’s backs, feet, on water, in spaces where one can hardly even sit down. And it was overwhelming. The first two days were completely overwhelming, and I thought to myself- I don’t know if I can do this for the next eight or nine days. Finally, during Qiyam al-Layl (nightly prayers) on my second night there, during which I had the extraordinary opportunity to pray in full view of the Ka’bah (I could not help but look straight at the Ka’bah and the people surrounding it during my prayer), I came to a simple yet, profound realization. There were so many of us there. Literally, everywhere I looked, there were people. All I could see besides the Ka’bah were people- walking, praying, running, sitting, sleeping, crying, smiling. And no one cared how rich you were, how poor you were, where you came from, or how many degrees you have. Millions and millions of people had traveled all the way to this holy place to redeem themselves, and while I do not know what their normal lives are like, all I knew that night in Makkah was that I was- I am- so small and so insignificant in the midst of this ocean of Muslims. In Knoxville, TN, I might walk around, knowing that I am loved and respected, but here in Makkah, I am just a tiny dot.

This realization was so huge for me that I kept reflecting on it each time I prayed in the Haram. I began noticing little things. A well-educated, rich professional could try to get to the best prayer spot, but if he came ten minutes too late, then a poor, homeless person could be the one who would be standing in a spot people would do anything for. You might be wearing the nicest clothes and the nicest sandals, but if you lost your sandals, you would have to walk barefoot like some of the Bedouin women, and there was no way for you to complain.

Often, in the humdrum of life, we lose focus on what is beyond us, as individuals. We think that our problems are so big, that our schedules are so busy, and our problems are so stressful. We panic that while we are satisfied, we may not be blissfully happy in a certain career, marriage, etc. We get angry- angry at the world, angry at God, angry at our families, angry at ourselves. And while doing so, we place ourselves in the center of the universe, albeit unknowingly. Pop culture and media do not necessarily help, either. However, sometimes, God, in His Mercy, sends us a reminder in moments such as the one I experienced during my nights in Makkah- that we are so small compared to the Universe. So small, that I could literally be completely lost in the myriad of people just in Makkah, and He is so great. He created everything, including you and me, and while we are enjoying our lives right now, our blessings could be taken away from us without us having any control. Such realizations remind us that our job is to be humble, because very frankly, it does not even make any sense for us to be arrogant.

“Indeed, they who have believed and done righteous deeds and humbled themselves to their Lord – those are the companions of Paradise; they will abide eternally therein.” (Surah Hud: 23)

Mehreen Khan’s hometown is in Memphis, Tennessee. She frequently works with the Muslim youth and volunteers for several Islamic organizations. She also teaches various Islamic Studies topics to the women and youth in her local community. She will be graduating this year with a BS in Elementary Education.

Since God really does answer all prayers, even seemingly unimportant ones made by four year-olds, on this particular day of my Hajj experience I finally found out.

–

There was the knocking of doors, the unzipping of suitcases, and the running of water in the restrooms. I was shaken awake by my already half dressed roommates. It was time to go on the trip, or ziyaara. I got up, coughed out phlegm in the bathroom sink (as was my ritual several times a day), and washed up.

I went downstairs to the lobby with my roommates and all of our husbands and piled into the bus that was waiting for us outside the hotel. After everyone came down, we headed out on our way to Mount Uhud.

One of our guides during Hajj was a student of the Islamic University of Madinah so the entire tour was basically given by him. He explained to us how Mount Uhud was a vast mountain range which was prominent in Islamic history. Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam – peace and blessings be upon him) oftentimes used Mount Uhud in his sayings.

Narrated by Abu Huraira: Allah’s Apostle said, “(A believer) who accompanies the funeral procession of a Muslim out of sincere faith and hoping to attain Allah’s reward and remains with it till the funeral prayer is offered and the burial ceremonies are over, he will return with a reward of two Qirats. Each Qirat is like the size of the (Mount) Uhud. He who offers the funeral prayer only and returns before the burial, will return with the reward of one Qirat only.” [Bukhari :: Book 1 :: Volume 2 :: Hadith 45]Narrated by Anas bin Malik: When the mountain of Uhud appeared before Allah’s Apostle he said, “This is a mountain that loves us and is loved by us. O, Allah! Abraham made Mecca a Sanctuary, and I have made Medina (i.e. the area between its two mountains) a Sanctuary as well.” [Bukhari :: Book 5 :: Volume 59 :: Hadith 410]

Narrated Anas bin Malik: The Prophet once climbed the mountain of Uhud with Abu Bakr, ‘Umar and ‘Uthman. The mountain shook with them. The Prophet said (to the mountain), “Be firm, O Uhud! For on you there are no more than a Prophet, a Siddiq and two martyrs.” [Bukhari :: Book 5 :: Volume 57 :: Hadith 24]

Beautiful green grass in the middle of the desert leading up to Mount Uhud in the distance.

It’s a very symbolic mountain in Islam for his sayings and also due to the Battle of Uhud which was one of the major battles in the early days of Islam during the time of Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam). This was a battle during which Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) was going to fight near Mount Uhud with his army but told a squadron of archers to stay on a hill and protect the Muslim army from behind. The Muslims were doing very well in the fight and the battle could be over any minute when the archers on the hill started to get riled up and wanted to join their brothers in the real fight and pick up the war booty so they began running down the hill. Shortly thereafter the enemy ranks spotted the hill as an opening to strike the Muslims and began to ride to the hill.

We all learned how the story goes in Sunday school. The Muslims were defeated, the pagans came up victorious, and at some point the rumor was spread that even the beloved Messenger of God himself (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) had been killed.

Mount Uhud

By Allah’s Mercy, he had not been killed but he was devastatingly injured. That news was painful enough for the Muslim army and those waiting back home to bear. This was also the time during which this famous verse from the Qur’an was revealed:

“Muhammad is no more than a Messenger, and indeed (many) Messengers have passed away before him. If he dies or is killed, will you then turn back on your heels (as disbelievers)? And he who turns back on his heels, not the least harm will he do to Allâh, and Allâh will give reward to those who are grateful.” [Qur'an, Chapter 3, Verse 144]

It was this same verse that one of the most prominent companions of Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) named Abu Bakr reminded the people of when years later Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) really did pass away. Abu Bakr stated, “O people! If Muhammed is the sole object of your adoration then know that he is dead. But if it is Allah (the One God) you worshiped, then know that He does not die.”

Now, more than a century later I stood on Mount Uhud along with my North American Hajj group. Cameras in hand, taking snapshots of our friends posing with the scenic mountain range in the background. It almost felt wrong to smile where so much blood had been shed, where the most beloved man to us all had almost died.

The hill of the archers.

I looked at the hill of the archers. Our guide told us it used to be much larger than what it was now. He said part of the problem was that over the years folks have been coming to Mount Uhud and picking up some sand from the hill of the archers and taking it home with them thinking it’s a great blessing.

Lesson of the day: Allah blesses us, dirt does not.

The hill of the archers.

The guide kindly asked us all to not mess with the hill, and not even to go stand on it and pray like other crowds of people had gathered on top of it to do. He emphasized there is nothing important or special about the place and to just let it be. So we did.

Across from the hill of the archers was a fenced off area. As I approached it, a sort of déjà vu came over me. Why did this wire fence in the middle of Arabia look so familiar to me?

As I got closer and closer, just standing a few feet away, I noticed all the people standing around me with their hands cupped together in prayer. Our guide told us to look at the sign posted towards the top of the fence which had the prayer to recite at the grave written in English, Arabic, and a few other major languages. All of these people were reciting that prayer and we were urged to do the same. Prayers such as this are from the practices of Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) and therefore any practices he performed we should also try to do as well. (Note: This is not the equivalent to grave worshiping. The prayer on the signage was simply a prayer said when visiting graveyards. It was not to ask for blessings or intercession from the dead.)

As I stood there I finally realized what was so familiar about this place. This was where I stood more than a decade ago as a small child asking Allah to tell me what happened here that made so many people cry. Beyond the fence was nothing but plain sand but below that sand lay some of the most revered men of Islamic history.

It was the gravesite of those who were martyred at the Battle of Uhud. May Allah be pleased with them, ameen.

It looks nothing like a cemetery because it isn’t decorated. There are no headstones or flowers to be found. In Islam, we are not allowed to build monuments on top of graves and it is a place to remember death and our final meeting with God when we will be held accountable for all of our actions on this earth. It isn’t a place to go and constantly weep over those we have lost. By Allah’s Merciful Will, we will meet those people again one day. What this life is for is concentrating on our own deeds so that we all make it to the same place – Heaven.

I felt so grateful that all these years later Allah answered the prayers of little me so that now big me knew what was going on at that fence. Everyone was weeping because they were remembering how temporary this life is, how much we have yet to do in our lives, and how all of these men buried beneath this sand risked their own lives to protect us so that one day the rest of us could learn about and practice Islam in peace and unity.

The gravesite of the martyrs.

I wonder if any of us would even be Muslims right now had it not been for Allah’s guidance and then those men. I wonder how many of us even know at least five of their names. What was important now was living our lives from here on out with a better outlook and sense of purpose. Visiting the site of Mount Uhud was one of the most humbling experiences of the Hajj trip.

After a while of walking in the vicinity of the mountain, our group leaders got us together and told us to start heading back to the buses. On our way there Abdullah and I saw a kid opening up boxes of water bottles and setting them up for sale in the middle of the walkway. It was a cool, windy day so we weren’t particularly thirsty but it’s the desert so you just mentally feel more at ease if you have some water in your hands.

We asked the kid how much they were and he only charged us a few Riyaals. We were impressed he wasn’t ripping us off for like ten or twenty Riyaals. He took out two bottles and gave them to us and we became even more impressed to find the water bottles actually cold. Abdullah kept telling the Arab kid in English how he’s doing a really good job and to help him out we stood right beside his makeshift water bottle stall, twisted open the plastic bottle caps and started gulping the water away. It was our way of helping him advertise. I think he understood what we were doing because he grinned at us. You do stuff like that at Hajj.

Then we headed back to the bus and settled in to continue on our way to the next stop of our trip. While we sat there our guide continued telling us about the city of Madinah and asking us Islamic trivia questions.

“]

All the masajid we visited looked very similar so I’m unsure if this is Qiblatayn, Saba’a Masjid, or Masjid Quba. [Picture taken from inside the bus as we drove by so this netting was in the way.

”And from wheresoever you start forth (for prayers), turn your face in the direction of Al-Masjid-al-Harâm (at Makkah), and wheresoever you are, turn your faces towards, it (when you pray) so that men may have no argument against you except those of them that are wrong-doers, so fear them not, but fear Me! – And so that I may complete My Blessings on you and that you may be guided.” [Qur’an, Chapter 2, Verse 150]

After Qiblatayn we drove past Saba’a Masjid. The word “saba’a” means seven in Arabic so it is literally seven masajid. This place used to be seven separate masajid which were made into one united masjid eventually. It is located where the Battle of Khandaq (the Battle of the Trench), another famous battle in Islamic history, occurred centuries ago.

I’m pretty sure this is Saba’a Masjid. If not, it might be Qiblatayn.

Our next stop was Masjid Quba. This was a masjid built in the area where Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) had stopped on his way to Madinah from Makkah to pray. We also stopped at this Masjid to pray extra prayers as well.

Now I know you’re like, “Whoaaa hold up, hold up. You just said that you’re not supposed to travel to visit a Masjid to pray in it except for Masjid al-Haram, Masjid an-Nabawi, and Masjid al-Aqsa. Why did you guys stop to pray in Masjid Quba? Isn’t that breaking the rules?”

This is the courtyard of Masjid Quba.

I’m glad you were paying attention and caught that. That’s what a lot of us in the bus were thinking too when our guide asked us this trivia question to see if we knew why we were allowed to pray at this Masjid. I don’t remember if anyone knew or if he had to tell us but basically the answer was this: besides that saying I already told you about, there is also another saying of Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) where he says that whoever leaves his house in the state of purity and comes to Masjid Quba and offers two raka’at (units of) prayer will receive the reward like that of Umrah (the Lesser Pilgrimage). The Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) himself would visit Masjid Quba and offer prayers there. So if he did it, we could follow in his footsteps as well.

So we stopped by and before we went inside we stopped at a small food stall to grab a bite to eat. We were finally getting some breakfast. There was no place to sit and eat. This is a constant problem in Saudi, especially with the huge Hajj crowds, so we just stood and gobbled down our food.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: I know you can’t always stand and eat so what do you do when there’s no place to sit? You find a curb or steps to a store and just park yourself there and munch. Sometimes store owners will tell you to leave because that’s their place of business so be respectful and move. Stay in public places. I ate in a dark alley close to Masjid al-Haram in Makkah before the dawn prayer once and a cat kept coming up to me to eat from my tray of food. Even when we gave it some food in a separate plate, she kept coming back for more. Makkan cats are NOT afraid of humans. We eventually had to move because it was creeping me out…

We tried eating really fast because this kid came up to us and tried selling prayer beads to us. We knew it’s a scam. You buy from one kid and then ten more come out of no where and expect you to buy from them too. They make the sweetest gloomy faces that make you want to take all of your money out of your pockets and just give it to them. But it’s a scam. The mistake we made was that Abdullah had a couple of prayer beads in his pocket so he took them out and gave them to the first kid who came to us. The kid was confused because he wanted money but instead received more merchandise.

He ran away but then every kid on the block came and flocked our nice shady spot and tried selling us more prayer beads. We kept ignoring them but in reality we kept saying to each other in English, “Wow, these kids are adamant. It has been ten minutes. I can’t believe they’re still standing here and maintaining the hope we’ll buy.” I almost did buy. I just wanted them to leave. But I knew even if I gave a Riyaal to each of the seven kids standing there, forty more would appear in front of us.

We finally finished eating and briskly walked towards the masjid, performed our ablutions, and went into the masjid to pray.

Like any masjid, especially in Saudi, this one was beautiful. The carpet was dark red and there was a constant air of peace inside. However, the women’s section was nothing like the men’s. Below are some pictures I got Abdullah to take of their side.

Gotta have ceiling art.

Gotta have chandeliers.

It was pretty awesome and a great way to wrap up our trip. We headed back towards Masjid an-Nabawi to our hotel rooms as it was getting close to the noon prayer time. As we went there our guide also told us that the city of Madinah used to only be the size of Masjid an-Nabawi, including the white tiled courtyard area it has. We were all shocked to hear that because as magnificently beautiful and huge that masjid is, it would still make one darn small city. That explained how all of these places we had visited were all considered to be outside of Madinah back in the days of Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam). He also told us how there’s one road that leads from Masjid an-Nabawi to the University of Madinah – the prominent Islamic university our guide himself studies at. He said many students who study there walk by foot down that road to the masjid to pray. That was pretty cool. Imagine saying, “Oh I go to school down the street from one of the most sacred masajid and symbolic locations of Islamic history. I’m a G like that.”

Anyway, when we got back to the hotel, we got ready to go to the masjid to offer our prayers. I think this was the day that I went to the masjid to pray, and as I stood in line about to start prayer, the girl next to me about my age took her prayer mat which was laid out for her to fully do her prostrations on and turned it horizontally so that I could do my prostrations on it too. I felt so grateful for that. I know it’s a sacred place but praying on the bare courtyard floor where the whole world has been walking around with their shoes is a little bit icky. During prayer I kept blowing my nose with my soft Puffs tissues I always kept handy. I noticed the girl next to me also had a runny nose and she only had this one tissue that looked … well she had used it almost to its full potential. After we prayed the obligatory prayer, she got up to offer her extra units of prayer and so did I. I finished up before her, dug around in my bag for an extra unused packet of tissues and put it at the top of the girl’s prayer mat and walked away. I really didn’t want to give away a whole tissue packet because I was running low on my stock and my cold/fever/infection whatever the heck was wrong with me wasn’t going to go away any time soon. I prayed Allah would bless my tissues and make them last longer.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: Take extras of evvvverryyyythingggg. If you don’t use it that’s great! More to give away to other people. Make sure to stockpile on things like tissues, hand wipes, cough drops, and other general pain relief, cough, and nasal decongestant medicines. You can never have enough of these at Hajj.

Afterward I continued doing my shopping in the marketplaces surrounding the masjid. It was awesome how all the shops shut down and how all the merchandise gets rolled up and stowed away every time the call for prayer is announced. In Saudi, it’s against the law to do business during prayer times. God first, money later. Sounds like a deal.

As the evening wore on I knew I should get back to the hotel. Abdullah and I were planning to go to the grave of Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) later that night so I needed to get ready for that.

The night before my Egyptian Canadian roommate, Alaa, was taking one of our other roommates to the grave of Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) and offered to take me too. Actually, she tried very hard to persuade me to go with them. She kept telling me it would be best I go with her, someone who speaks Arabic. I kept saying thanks but it’s all good, I’ll go later. I was convinced I would be fine and I could take care of myself. (I was probably saying this while hacking and coughing, and she was probably making some more of her amazing honey lemon tea for me.) She kept telling me I didn’t know what I was talking about but I kept telling her I can handle it. I should’ve totally left my ego back in Houston because I was in for a life-threatening reality check.

Disclaimer: Details accounted in this Hajj series are mostly by memory. If a mistake has been made, especially in explaining something incorrectly about Islam, please contact us so we may correct it. If you have any questions, please post or email them. We will do our best to answer them here or in future chapters. Also, all names used in this series are aliases and not the real names of the actual people.

In the cold, I barely wanted to move, but someone was tapping me and gently tugging the covers off of me. In a calm voice someone helped lift me up and slowly walk me to another bed, then tuck me into it. I was coughing, my nose was stuffy, my eyelids were heavy. Why was it so cold? What was happening? Was it fajr prayer time? Please don’t let it be fajr. I can’t make wudu right now. I’ll freeze to death. I can’t move. Please.

It wasn’t time for the dawn prayer and I wasn’t going to have to run cold water over my face, arms, and feet, thank God. It was still the middle of the night. I could hear movement around the room and whispered voices. I recognized the one closest to me, helping me into the bed, it was my old roommate from Makkah, Alaa.

“It’s much too cold in this room,” she said while asking someone to turn the heat up some. “The vent is blowing to that end of the room and that’s where she was sleeping. She’ll get even more sick sleeping in that bed.” In my exhaustion, I registered why she had moved me and felt instantly grateful that they were doing this for me in the middle of the night. I didn’t speak to say thanks. I couldn’t. I had no voice.

I’m drinking hot chai right now as I write this. I would’ve given anything to be holding this mug during that night in Madinah. During Hajj time, a cup of tea from the street corner was 1 Riyaal. But if you wanted milk in it, it would be 2 Riyaals. I always bought the 1 Riyaal tea to save money and other times just tried to restrain myself altogether.

But I definitely didn’t later that day. I woke up… I don’t know when but it was bright and sunny outside. I was still obviously sick but my body felt so much better. Rest can do wonders for a person.

I got up and slowly washed up and got ready and met with Abdullah so he could escort me (due to my lack of sense of direction outside of America) to the new Haram, Masjid an-Nabawi. Literally it translates into the masjid of the Prophet, but it’s not just named after any Prophet. It is the Masjid of Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam).

It was only about a ten minute walk from our hotel to the Masjid. This was epic. In Makkah it was a ten to fifteen minute shuttle ride. Here we could easily come and go as we pleased. Immediately as I stepped out of the hotel I felt something. I had felt it the night before too when we were driving through Madinah. What was the word for it?

Peace. There was a strong, undeniable sense of serenity in Madinah. It was nothing like the hustle and bustle of Makkah. There were cars on the roads, but they weren’t jam packed and they didn’t honk at one another every two seconds for no reason other than to just honk at the guy in front. The people were more relaxed and crossing the street wasn’t like a war zone. All in all it was much quieter. I loved Madinah and wished we could stay there longer. I would’ve given up a few days of our Makkah stay to have enjoyed Madinah more. But people like Abdullah strongly disagree. His logic is that Makkah is the best and no other city can beat Makkah because there’s no other place on earth one can perform the act of worship called Tawaaf. There’s no other place on earth that contains the Kabah. Touché.

But I still liked Madinah much more and I hadn’t even seen the Haram yet. We were both hungry but it was going to be time for dhuhr prayer soon enough. So we started walking into the white tiled courtyard of Masjid an-Nabawi. Once again I was amazed.

Masjid an-Nabawi courtyard.

Immediately we established a meeting spot. As we entered from one corner of the Masjid, we noted a building with a big number 4 in red paint written on it. These small buildings encircled all of the Masjid with different numbers written on them. Some were for restrooms (you would have to go inside and then downstairs to get to them) and some were to lead to parking areas for those who actually drive their cars to the Masjid (though I can barely fathom hopping into my car and being like, “Hmm, I feel like going to the HARAM to pray today, la la la…”).

TIPS N’ TRICKS: There are no restrooms inside either of Masjid al-Haram or Masjid an-Nabawi. The bathrooms are located outside of the masajid and they are super crowded (and not to mention unclean even though the custodians do the best they can given the Hajj season). Always use the restroom before you leave your hotel/apartment. If you have to go, then find a nearby mall or hotel, go up a few floors where it’s less crowded (and therefore cleaner as well) and use those restrooms. If you’ve broken your wudu, just redo it at the Zam Zam or water stations. But be clean about it and don’t let water spill all over. Respect the sanctuaries and the custodians. (Oh and when you want to ask where the restroom is, go up to someone with a confused look and say, “Toilet?” They’ll point you in the right direction.)

Then we continued walking towards the Masjid across the courtyard. It was so amazing. The sun was out high, the wind was cool, and most of all it was tranquil. Madinah is so peaceful and that feeling emanates through each person there. I was so appreciative to be out of the hectic hustle and bustle of Makkah. Everyone briskly walked to join the prayer rows in time for the noon, dhuhr, prayer.

This is a sign on the pillars along the first prayer row to ensure everyone is standing behind the Imam and not in front because then those people's prayers will be nullified.

Abdullah told me you can come as late as you want to Masjid an-Nabawi and still make it into the first row. I didn’t understand at first but then I learned that the first row continues from inside the Masjid to the outside courtyard and extends all the way to the gates circling the entire Masjid. That’s one massive row. No matter how late we got to the Masjid, Abdullah could always join in and pray in the first row. It was pretty cool for him.

Here is a closed shade pillar and behind it is a fully open one. The brown door in the distance is where the Imam, leader of the congregation, prays and everyone else prays behind him.

I continued to walk under the beautiful … I don’t know what to call them… shade-giver-thingies. They’re like these elaborate pillars which can be opened up and then they become huge umbrellas in the middle of the courtyard giving shade to all the Hajjis praying outside, thusly also keeping the white tiled floor cool. That floor was so comfortable, just like in Masjid al-Haram, I could’ve slept on it and was often tempted to do so.

I split off from Abdullah to go to the women’s section to pray. (This wasn’t Masjid al-Haram in Makkah anymore where women and men could pray next to each other. Over there it’s too hard to separate the men and women since we pray facing the Kabah and the Kabah is right there in front of your face and you have to make circular rows around it… very tricky business. So men and women pray next to each other. Although we still can’t stand shoulder-to-shoulder and foot-to-foot as we normally would with the same sex.)

As I walked towards the women’s section, the back half of the Masjid, I felt like I was in Disney World. I had this magical feeling come over me as I walked under the pillar umbrellas, looking up at them instead of looking ahead to see where I was going. The design and architecture of them was so beautiful. I wondered what architects, engineers, and artists put their heads together to create these. Not only did they adorn the Masjid so beautifully but helped those people who were going to have to pray outside under the noon Arabian sun. I was proud of the Muslims who invented them.

These are two rows of the shade pillars opened up all the way, keeping cool all the people praying and walking beneath them.

I finally made it to the women’s section, or the back half of the Masjid, it was a bit of a walk but I was so happy to be praying my first prayer in Masjid an-Nabawi. I took my prayers in Masjid al-Haram, at Hajj, and Masjid an-Nabawi very seriously. I know I should take all of my prayers seriously, but being in this part of the world, doing Hajj, everything felt so different. I needed to work extra hard to make it count and then implement that in the rest of my life.

I got in a line out in the courtyard after quickly discovering there was no space inside the actual Masjid for me to pray. I put my sandals to the side or in front of me so I could do my prostrations easily, stood for prayer, prayed in congregation, and got done and felt so relaxed. You know how I kept saying about Makkah and Hajj how I was always exhausted and about to faint? I’m now going to keep saying about Madinah that I was so chilled out it was awesome. [Continues to reminisce…]

One of the identical doorways situated all around the masjid.

Anyway, when I got done with prayer, which was just a little bit longer than the prayers in Makkah – again, hustle and bustle – I started walking towards the front of the Masjid to meet Abdullah at the meeting spot. We regrouped and knew what was on the other person’s mind immediately – FOOD!

As soon as you take one step outside of the gated courtyard area of Masjid an-Nabawi, you enter into the bazaar.

“KHAMSA RIYAAL, KHAMSA RIYAAL, KHAMSA KHAMSA KHAMSA!” Kids would stand atop carts holding up toys or waving headscarves yelling the price of only five Riyaals (around $1.15-1.20) for that product. People would flock around those carts with their money notes crisp and waving upright in the air while little kids would go around passing out the product and collecting money. I loved the scene. I always gave props to those kids working so hard to sell. I don’t know if they had families or not but they were obviously hard workers and that was going to get them somewhere in this world, insha’Allah.

We passed up the crowd and entered the market area and looked for a food stall. We stopped at the first shawarma place we found. First we ordered one shawarma to see how it tasted, if it wasn’t that good we would then go somewhere else. It turned out to be pretty tasty so we ordered another one and as I ate and coughed and sniffled I asked for some tea as well. I remember standing there and sipping the tea up slowly and letting the hot liquid slide down my throat, giving it ease everywhere it touched. I thank Allah for creating tea.

I was now energized to take care of a great task I had to accomplish before leaving Madinah – buy gifts for my family in America and Pakistan. It was a daunting task, especially when you don’t know what to give people and they don’t tell you what they want.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: No one asked me for anything. I just felt like shopping for people. But I do advise you all to never ever ask someone who is traveling for Hajj to bring you back things. Do you want them to focus on their pilgrimage or try choosing an abaya for you? (Abayas in Saudi, at least during Hajj time, are getting pretty pricey by the way, like easily over 100 Riyaals. I didn’t buy even one.) If you really want someone to do something for you at Hajj, ask them to pray for you. That’s a good way to be considerate and get something that’ll vastly outweigh a piece of cloth.

I saw some hijaabs and knew someone who would like that style so I started picking through them for the best designs. Once I chose them I asked what price they were for, “How much?” Everyone knows those two English words. The black lady enshrouded in a plain all black abaya, even covering her face except the slit for her eyes, responded to me with a number in Arabic. I started using my fingers to figure out how much she was saying but counting fingers was proving ineffective. I finally said to her, “Aap ko Urdu aa ti hai?” I’m thinking this is a black woman in Saudi Arabia so the answer to my question is probably going to be a questioning look because how would she know how to speak Urdu?

She nodded yes. Score! I then continued bargaining down the price in Urdu. I saved five Riyaals in the end. I was pleased and moved on to the next store with a new key weapon: I spoke Urdu and so did all these random shop owners! May Allah bless my parents for teaching us Urdu, even if that meant throwing me to the wolves in Pre-K to figure out English on my own at the mere age of four.

I used these bargaining and language techniques to later help Abdullah’s tall Nigerian friend to buy scarves for his mom the next day. The only problem though was that I kept getting sicker and sicker with each passing day so while I was shopping with them I kept feeling nauseated so I would run to a huge trash bin, spit out all of my accumulating saliva, then continue shopping, then run to another trash bin, and so on and so forth. Once earlier that day I had also been nauseated after a prayer in Masjid an-Nabawi and felt I was about to puke all over the beautiful Masjid’s courtyard. Why on earth do I get nauseated every time I’m in two of the awesomest masjids on this planet? I thought. Abdullah’s friend was completely terrified of my illness after my third run to a trash can but I wouldn’t stop until I found the pink hijaab his mom wanted. I ended up never finding quite the right one but he was still so appreciative of us trying to help him that he mailed us gifts a few months later – a book Abdullah had mentioned he really wanted to read and a CD set on the less famous women in our Islamic history who I had mentioned I wanted to learn more about. May Allah reward him, ameen.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: Take an ample supply of tissues with you to Hajj. Remember, it’s not just for you but also to lend to others. When I say ample supply I mean if you’re blowing your nose once every 15 minutes for one week, you should be good to go. I took around 20-25 traveling packets and I finished them all save one, and that’s because I started using other rough paper towels I would find here and there to save my tissues for dire emergencies.

After each of my arms was filled with bags and I was running out of my supply of Puffs tissues I decided it was time to call it quits and return to my hotel room. We went back home and I don’t know what I did the rest of the day but it involved a lot of coughing, a lot of running to the bathroom to spit out phlegm, and a lot of curling up in bed holding on to my ribs because it was now starting to hurt to just breathe. (Like a dork I checked them now and then to see if they were bruised. Yes, it hurt that bad. The Hajj cough is terrible. It’s probably the cause of all your sins being forgiven…)

Before going to bed that night though I learned of a rumor going around and got my roommates to confirm it. We were going to go on a tour around Madinah the next day to certain special masjids and Mount Uhud – an Islamically important site according to the history of the religion.

I got hyped up when I heard this. Again, since I had read the book Muhammad by Martin Lings prior to coming for Hajj, all this Islamic history was fresh in my mind and I remembered the importance of places like Mount Uhud so I wanted to see it badly. I didn’t know much about the special masjids in Madinah but I was eager to learn more about them.

I slipped on my eye covers (something I had now grown so accustomed to I couldn’t sleep without them) and coughed my way into slumber looking forward to the next morning. The last twenty-four hours had taken quite the positive turn and I was stoked.




Disclaimer: Details accounted in this Hajj series are mostly by memory. If a mistake has been made, especially in explaining something incorrectly about Islam, please contact us so we may correct it. If you have any questions, please post or email them. We will do our best to answer them here or in future chapters. Also, all names used in this series are aliases and not the real names of the actual people.

It talks about the all too common faux paus of wearing hijab we see everywhere. Bangs coming out, the slippery hijab, the arm sausages (body suits)…we’ve either seen someone doing it, or we’ve become a victim to this ourselves. SO once we’ve realized our mistakes, tuck our big dangly earrings back into our hijab, draw it around our chests and wear something looser fitting, are we missing out on all the “fun”?

Firstly, we should remember that these changes are seeking the pleasure of Allah and fulfilling His commandments. There is more fun and beauty than we can imagine in store for those who please Him. Secondly, there ARE ways to dress up nicely without crossing the boundaries and even staying a safe distance away from them.

Let’s also take a step back to realize that our self-esteem and confidence about ourselves and our bodies should not come from over the top or out-of-bounds fashion. Beauty can be simple, natural and elegant. This is the type of beauty that lasts changes in styles, age and stays within the bounds of modesty. In fact, modesty is beautiful and immodesty can be crude and vulgar.

So, although I’m not the most fashionable hijabi out there, here is a list of simple and subtle stylish ways to be a hijabi.

1. Make sure it is clean, ironed and fits appropriately. Something as simple as being freshly washed, pressed and fitting correctly (ie not too long in the arms, length, shoulders etc.) can make an outfit look wonderfully put together. If someone asks, “Do you sleep in that (hijab)?”, it may not be out of ignorance! Take the extra time to iron it out. If you wear mostly long, flowy dresses or abayas, invest in a standing steam iron, like this. Sloppy is never in style.

Here are three signs to look for when trying to figure out if an abaya is just the right size:

a. Check the seams: even when you’re going for a loose-fitting look, the seams of your shoulder should sit right on your shoulder, the arm seams should begin right at your arm and when you lift your arms, there should not be any tugging. Any of these not lining up means this is not the right size.

b. Arm length: getting just the right length of sleeve is crucial to a put together look. Look for sleeves to hit either right at your wrist or a 1/2 inch longer depending on your preference. Any longer and it’ll easily get dirty and look like you’re a teenager from the 90’s. This is also a simple alteration that can be made to the sleeves for a custom fit.

c. Length of the garment: a long flowy abaya which trails to the ground might be beautiful in theory, but with stairs, escalators, strollers, shopping carts and driving, you’ll want to save the train for the wedding day. Measuring so that the abaya/skirt hits the top of your shoe is generally a comfortable length to walk in unobstructed and it falls beautifully. It also provides the right length for sitting down and crossing legs without revealing your calves.

2. Blazers/sweaters/cardigans. I got this idea from my friend who is a professional and ALWAYS looks the part. Whether you are on dinner date out or headed to a convention, a simple structured blazer, cardigan or sweater can provide the extra coverage, fit, and contrast of color needed to pull your whole outfit together. The best place to stock up on quantity and quality? Check out clearance racks in the beginning of the winter season and the very end. In the beginning, stores want to move out last year’s merchandise to make room for a new line. But as all hijabi’s know, a nice neutral cardigan never goes out of style or season.

3. Accessorize: So you tucked away all your earrings. You’re hiding your neck and don’t want to draw attention there. What kind of accessorizing can a hijabi do??

Sunglasses: B-)

Bracelets and rings: think one chunky piece or a matching delicate one; not armfuls of glass or worse, gold bangles.

Since completing Hajj – packing a few bags, a couple of days, and one more trip to Bin Dawood later – we were boarding a nice big air conditioned bus to take us to Madinah – the second part of our Hajj package. We had spent two weeks in Makkah and now we were going to spend about two and a half days in Madinah.

Surprisingly, the bus came pretty much on time to pick us up. But then we sat there and sat there and sat there in front of our apartment building. Then finally we moved. “Yeahhh!!! We’re on our way to Madinah!!!”

And then we stopped. In front of another apartment/hotel building to pick up some more people from our Hajj group who were a part of different packages than us. (There were other members of our Hajj group who stayed in Madinah first and then only proceeded to Makkah when it was Hajj time. After seeing Madinah, I sort of wished that’s what we had done too because I turned out to like Madinah a lot more than Makkah but it’s all good.)

We now had two buses just sitting there in front of the hotel building and we didn’t budge for at least half an hour or so after everyone was boarded and suitcases were loaded. What on earth was the problem?

One by one different volunteer brothers kept coming into our bus and asking us if we wanted to go sit in the other bus since it was near empty. Three single guys volunteered but the buses still didn’t move. They kept asking us if we wanted to go sit in the other buses. Everyone on this bus knew one another and were friends so if they really had to be on a road trip with anyone, it would be with their friends, not alone with no one to talk to.

A little bit of anger and frustration later, the buses finally started moving after the volunteers realized no one wanted to switch buses. Let’s just MOVE. My Hajj patience was really wearing out by now. I knew the trip would be long so I just wanted to get it started. Instead we had been sitting in a bus not moving for about an hour now. Goodness.

As we began going, people started breaking out the few snacks they had left and passing them around to share. Then most of us fell asleep.

When I woke up, we were clearly no longer in the city of Makkah. All I could see was desert around us. The bus was barely moving as well. We were stuck in a long line with several other buses going through a checkpoint. Great.

I tried falling back asleep after that but it never happened.

So with half of my voice gone (reminder: I was losing my voice since the third day of Hajj and coughing pretty bad – I hear it’s called the Hajj Cough, good to know) I resorted to staring out the window. Nothing was very interesting though.

Because you see, we were in the middle of a desert.

Desert scenery doesn’t change. It remains as follows: sun, dirt, rocks, sun, a lone bare tree, hills and mountains, and sun. And more sun.

From Google but this is really what it looked like. Sometimes there wasn't even a tree like that. It was all just sand and sun.

Driving past all of this I was so grateful to be in an air conditioned vehicle. I tried to imagine walking out there – no way. I also tried to imagine riding on a camel – nope. I would definitely die.

So this was the environment of Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam)? These are the lands he traveled when he fled for his life from Makkah to go to a city called Madinah? These are the lands in which they used to fight in battles to determine the fate of an entire religion?

I wrote in my journal when we had about four hours left to get to Madinah: “There’s nothing to see except sand, rocks, and mountains. There are occasional trees or shrubs and clay building structures. The route to Lubbock [I was talking about driving to Lubbock from Houston across all of Texas] is more entertaining than this. What’s best is that every few miles there are these brown signs that have dhikr [remembrances of Allah] on them like SubhanAllah, Alhamdullilah, Allahu Akbar, La ilaha il Allah, and Astaghfirrulah. It feels good to see these words.” It really did. It reminded me to remember Allah just a tad bit more during this ridiculously endless trip and how Allah is with you everywhere, even in the lonesome desert.

I later wrote in my journal: “We’re stopped at a bus station right now. I’ve realized that I’m dumbfounded as to how Allah placed His last and most beloved Rasul [Messenger] (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) in this barren land. Everything about the massive mountains and miles upon miles of nothing but dust and rocks just screams death.”

Halfway through our trip we stopped at a restaurant. I think just about every bus traveling to and from Madinah and Makkah stops there because there were so many buses parked out in front of it. There was a small musallah for everyone to pray in. I was hearing horror stories about the bathroom so I just got my water bottle and stood outside doing wudu with a Hajj mate. After praying we went inside the restaurant and my husband and I got plates of food and I got a mango juice (I was having constant cravings for mango juice while I was there) and sat outside in the wind eating. The food was Arab, obviously. It was some lightly seasoned chicken on top of rice with some diced, cooked vegetables like carrots and peas on the side. To us, this was lavish. We hadn’t eaten food like this in a while what with all of our money saving strategies and cheap Hajj package.

We couldn’t quite figure it out but we think this wasn’t even a part of our Hajj package so one of the volunteer brothers paid for everyone’s meals. May Allah bless him and his family, ameen.

From Google. This is generally what all the buses looked like.

Then we were back on the bus. Someone told us we had about three more hours to go until Madinah but it ended up being more like six or so. We later got to another checkpoint where they gave us a box of snacks as usual and I didn’t want to eat it. I wanted to save it for later in case we didn’t get to eat for a long time again. I started doing weird things like that with food ever since Makkah. Trying to hoard it in my bag but never eating it because I was afraid of some dire emergency where I would be almost completely dried out of energy and I would need to eat. I was being unreasonable.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: Take books with you to Hajj. You just need one. Maybe two or three. You’ll have ample amounts of time on the bus rides and during rest stops to do nothing but read. Another option would be writing. Just don’t waste your time with idle talk. Remember it can lead to backbiting and that would just mess up your whole Hajj experience. Stay busy and productive.

I’ve always been very grateful to Allah that I very rarely had food issues in my life, even when I watched friends go on the most ridiculous diets, talk about being fat, become exercise-o-holics, nearly stop eating, and even begin purging. There was nothing wrong with any of their bodies. The illness was in the mind.

I never had to deal with that. I didn’t think I ever would. But I guess it’s the things we least expect to happen to us that ends up testing us after all.

After Hajj, I began binge eating. I’ve always been the type to stuff my face on occasion, but now I wanted to eat as much as I could every time I saw food. I couldn’t forget the feelings I had at Arafat, Muzdalifah, and during the long walks to and from the Jamaraat, Mina, and the Haram. True, a big part of the problem was also that my muscles were untrained for such strenuous activities, but the fact that we rarely got anything to eat was ridiculous.

Most people complained about the Hajj group we went with. Abdullah and I were of the opinion that, “Eh, it could’ve been a lot better but hey, at least we got to do Hajj and we did it properly. That’s all that matters. May Allah accept.” But we privately decided that whichever Hajj group we go with in the future, we’re going to make sure they do a better job of supplying us with meals. We don’t want to pay for the packages where they set up all-you-can-eat buffets in your tent, but just give us something that is decent for the needs of the human body.

Alhamdullilah, since returning to Houston I’ve vastly improved in normalizing my eating habits. In that amount of time I worked on getting back into my routine, accept that insha’Allah I won’t go hungry one day, and learn to be physically stronger. I lost eight pounds at Hajj and now I’ve gained back about half and am working on the rest as well.

Anyway, back to our Madinah bus ride…

We stopped at one more checkpoint upon getting to Madinah. We were stuck here for a while so I did what any girl bored out of her mind would do… I called my Bhabi, my older brother’s wife, back in Texas. I talked to her for a total of sixteen minutes, half of the time I was hacking and coughing because my throat didn’t like me trying to talk, and then the line got cut. I asked Abdullah what happened and he checked it and told me I used up all the remaining Riyaals we had put on our Saudi-bought cell phone. Oh, the Riyaals. Forgot about that. I was too used to my unlimited text and talk plan from Sprint, heh.

Finally everyone got back on the bus and we started moving out of this checkpoint. As we pulled out of the parking lot someone asked one of the volunteers how much further it was going to be now. They told us our hotel wouldn’t be very far from here. Lies, I thought to myself. I never trusted the time anyone gave out.

Surprisingly enough, the hotel ended up being pretty close by. The checkpoint was actually inside of Madinah so it wouldn’t be too far from there. As we approached the hotel some people were saying that Masjid an-Nabawi must be close to here.

Even though my voice was practically gone, I perked up and it was as if I was walking into Masjid al-Haram for the first time. I began pestering Abdullah, “Where is it?! Is it that one? Those look like minarets, no?!” He craned his neck to follow my line of sight and began telling me things like, “No, that’s just another building,” or “That might be just another masjid.” Then I started asking if we could go to the Masjid as soon as we drop our bags off to our hotel room and he said maybe. (I had no energy to go exploring at that point but I guess being around these two Masjids can give a person an adrenaline rush.)

After the bus driver circled around one block for five minutes, he finally stopped at a hotel. Everyone got off, claimed their bags, and began going inside the hotel. But then they began announcing a few people who were supposed to be in a different hotel. I could’ve sworn I heard mine and Abdullah’s names so I quickly told him and we followed those people to the other hotel. We got there and we went up to our rooms. I was in a room with a couple of elder women and Abdullah was in a room with a few guys. It was the most crowded hotel room I had ever been in. There was barely any place to move around. The sisters and I spent fifteen minutes arranging and rearranging our suitcases. It was truly ridiculous to be so crowded together like this. Don’t even get me started on how the bathroom was so small you could barely sit on the toilet.

But not too long afterward one of the volunteer brothers came knocking on our door to tell me that I’m in the wrong room. I’m supposed to be in the other hotel with Abdullah. We had clearly misheard the names they had announced.

So I struggled with all my suitcases to try to get them out of the room and take all four suitcases, two duffels, and two backpacks that my husband and I had all the way back by foot to the other hotel. (I cursed my luggage the whole way there.) When we got there they didn’t have any keys for us yet or weren’t sure which room we were supposed to be in – something like that – so we sat in the lobby. And sat. And sat some more.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: When you go for Hajj, travel light. You don’t have the time and energy to deal with too much luggage. (I had tons of bags because we were supposed to go to Pakistan afterward and I knew I’d have to bring back a fifteen-year supply of clothes for my whole family.) Otherwise don’t even think about it.

One of Abdullah’s friends came back from a store he had just gone out to with a bag of a few shawarmas. He gave one to Abdullah and we split it, inhaling it in less than a minute probably. (Anyone that ever gave us food or water I always made loads of side du’aa for. That guy probably didn’t know how badly we needed some food at that time and one small shawarma made all the difference.)

Finally the volunteer brothers came into the hotel with everything we needed to go up to our rooms and helped us with our bags. They apologized for the delay. They told us one of the sisters in the hotel we had just come from had suddenly fallen ill and they had to call an ambulance. While he told us this I was sitting there completely drained, my eyes were red, my voice was completely gone, I couldn’t stop coughing. I was cold, tired, hungry, and just wanted to curl up under some covers and sleep my life away. Upon hearing about that sister, I realized I needed to thank Allah. I was sick but insha’Allah I would recover from it. Thank God it was nothing that required me to become hospitalized for.

We went upstairs and Abdullah and I got separated once again into separate hotel rooms. I walked into mine and to my pleasure I would be bunking with two of my old roommates from Makkah, the Heena and Alaa, and also a new elder woman. I went inside, placed my suitcases as neatly as I could, prayed my maghrib and isha prayers combined due to the traveling we had done, stripped my hijaab and abaya and slipped inside the covers of the first empty bed I saw. I was freezing, my chest was aching, but all I cared about was that I had just eaten a bit of food and I would get to sleep in this comfortable bed. What more could I want?

Disclaimer: Details accounted in this Hajj series are mostly by memory. If a mistake has been made, especially in explaining something incorrectly about Islam, please contact us so we may correct it. If you have any questions, please post or email them. We will do our best to answer them here or in future chapters. Also, all names used in this series are aliases and not the real names of the actual people.

Where were you on 9/11?

Fahina was in her kindergarten class just like any other weekday. Her mom had just dropped her off there and was walking back to her home. Her brother was still in the womb, to be due any day. And her father?

He was atop the North Tower.

At such a point I would think and understand it if with the WTC this family’s faith collapsed too. No one would blame the mother for retreating as a widow into the shadows of her despair. No one would wonder why Fahina became a depressed teenager. No one would question how her brother, who never met her father, became a rebellious youth.

We would understand. After all, have we not faced our own traumas? Have we not considered casting our heads down, turning away from Islam? This family, more than most in our times, would have a good reason to do so. Especially after facing such adversities as losing a husband and father, going into labor two days later alone, growing up never meeting him, trying to grasp how other so-called Muslims could do this, and then facing the persecution by one’s very own community for being Muslim.

Post-9/11 many of us experienced the taunts, being called names, getting cursed at, having our headscarves pulled. We grew up learning about slavery, one of the darkest moments in our nation’s history, and then were subject to similar discrimination.

We spent the last several years feeling mixed emotions, from anger to resentment to grief to shame. We’ve grown up in the past decade fumbling with the confusion brought upon us as Muslims and as Americans on 9/11.

I’m glad I went through my personal struggles in trying to defend Islam and Muslims around the world and then trying to come to terms with my American identity. It was a balance sought by each of us through a painful internal war. It was important for us to go through that but I wish I had learned about Fahina, her mother, and her brother a long time ago. I wish I had read their story and known there was a family out there going through what we were all going through but so much more intensely.

It’s impossible to read the article about Fahina and her family with dry eyes and to walk away from it not learning these lessons:

Help the youth understand. One of the struggles Fahina faces now is how to explain 9/11 to her brother, who was born a mere two days after the attacks which killed his father. Similarly, many of our siblings, cousins, and children were born after the 2001 or were too young to remember and understand what occurred on that grievous day. It’s important for those of us who were there, for us who do remember, to help them understand as well. We need to talk to them before they hear it on TV or in school or read about it online. We need to help them understand their Muslim American identity before anyone else taints it. It is our responsibility to fulfill.

Never deny your faith. During a time beards and headscarves were coming off, Fahina’s mother began wearing her headscarf just two weeks after 9/11. It is in times of adversity that Allah will truly test our faith. Sometimes He may take away something or someone we love dearly to bring us closer to Him and the manners in which we come closer to Him will be through strengthening our faith in performing more righteous acts and internally struggling in His way.

Be kind to all. After 9/11, Fahina and her family were subject to taunts for being Muslim while grieving for their loved one. Despite that Fahina’s mother was kind and tried helping those people and set that as an example for her children. Remember actions speak louder than words and although those people may sneer at you now, they may eventually be guided to the truth and change their ways. You are concerned only with doing that which Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) taught you to do. Leave the rest in Allah’s hands.

Work hard through hard times. Fahina’s mother found her calling to strive each and every day to raise the best children and instills the same values in them to live by. As Muslim Americans, we’re all facing difficult times, not just around 9/11 anniversaries but year round. It’s important to remember that we all have duties to fulfill and the One we serve is Allah through this temporary life. Work hard through it and you will be rewarded in this life and the Hereafter, insha’Allah.

Serve Allah with hands and heart. On the 9/11 anniversary Fahina’s family sends money to orphanages and works hard to represent their faith outside their home. It’s important for us to remember all acts of worship which Allah loves such as giving in charity and spreading the word of Islam. The best way to spread awareness and open people’s minds to understanding is to educate them on this religion. This teaching is not simply done by words but also in actions, big and small.

So where were you on 9/11?

I don’t just mean where in terms of location or what you were doing. But where were you spiritually?

The CNN.com article was inspiring in the way Fahina’s and her family’s spiritual journey was mapped. They changed so much for the sake of Allah after dealing with the tragedy of losing a loved one in the 9/11 attacks. The lessons to be learned from them hold true for all of us as we’ve all made sacrifices and have struggled in our lives. But the same way it changed Fahina and her family in a positive fashion because they made it have an effect on them for the better, we can use the adversities in our lives to mold us into stronger Muslims as well.

Wherever you were in the past, wherever you are now, the most important question is where are you going? Take to heart some of the actions Fahina’s family took and let’s get there together with our entire family of the Muslim Ummah.

May Allah help us all in pleasing Him, ameen. May Allah make easy for Fahina and her family the struggles they face every day, ameen. May Allah have mercy on Fahina’s father and grant him admission into the highest level of Jannah, ameen.

Please pray for the 32 Muslim victims and remember all of the families who lost loved ones due to the 9/11 attacks, may Allah make it easy on all of them, ameen.

On this corner of the Kabah this writing indicates that this is where the Hajar al-Aswad, or the Black Stone, is located so everyone knows one circuit of their Tawaaf is complete at this corner.

We were going to leave Makkah in the morning so we made Tawaaf the night before with the American Pakistani couple we had befriended at the Jeddah airport, Henna and her husband. The task was simple but the problem was getting to the Masjid and then back home. The Hajj group we went with wasn’t going to provide any transportation so it was every Hajji for him/herself. From past experiences of getting taxis we had learned that we can’t speak in English or else they’ll know we’re from the West and will jack up the price. The problem was that neither of us four could speak Arabic so we went to the next best thing – Urdu. The problem still remained that Abdullah didn’t speak Urdu so we would need him to stay quiet and not accidentally say something in English.

Taken on my last night in Makkah.

We walked out of our apartment building and down the slope that led to the road, sort of like a feeder road, and Heena’s husband began flagging down several of the Makkan ‘taxi’ drivers. Finally he got this one guy who had a small van and kept speaking to him in Urdu even though the driver was Arab. As long as he didn’t figure out we were Amreeki all would go well and he wouldn’t totally rip us off. The guy doing the talking knew enough numbers in Arabic to bargain the price and then we got in. First Abdullah entered and went to the back, then Heena and I entered and sat in the middle, and her husband sat in shotgun. The driver ended up not taking us very close to the Masjid. He dropped us off in the middle of a jam packed street not too far off from where the shuttle bus driver used to drop us when we would visit the Masjid during the week before Hajj began.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: When traveling, always take an Arabic-speaker with you. Also, never let women be the first to go in a vehicle or get out of it. The driver can always drive off with them.

So we got out – first Heena’s husband, then Heena and I, and then Abdullah. We walked from the van in between packed cars and trucks and buses – I couldn’t imagine how so many fit in that small street to begin with – and soon Masjid al-Haram was in sight.

I could hardly believe this would be the last time I would get to see it. Maybe in my entire life.

I hope that’s not true.

Taken on my last night in Makkah.

If it hadn’t been for the black sky above, I wouldn’t be able to tell it was night time because of how lively the Masjid grounds were. Allah truly answered the prayer of Prophet Abraham (‘alayhi salaam) with this Masjid. It’s no where near empty ever. Someone is always doing Tawaaf around the Kabah. There is also no shortage of food or drink there. You will always find dates being poured into your hands or receiving a cup of Zam Zam. I think of it as the Masjid that never sleeps.

I think this was only the second time I was at the Haram at night time. Usually I used to come during the day, in the morning hours until almost dusk. I came at night time to perform Tawaaf al-Ifaadah a few days earlier and now I was going to do my Tawaaf al-Widaa. The good-bye Tawaaf.

This is the closest I ever got to the Maqam-e-Ibrahim. I was right up against it almost and I tried to take a picture inside but I didn’t point the camera downward enough to get the right view.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: Never stop while in a huge crowd to take a picture or for any other reason. Keep moving or get trampled. Never move against the flow of traffic either. Keep your safety and the safety of others in mind at all times while at Hajj.

I almost didn’t want to do it. I wished I could take the Masjid with me back to Houston or bring Houston to Makkah. How can one leave a place where they feel so connected to Allah, to Islam, and to the Prophets (peace be upon them all) of the past? This is where Islam began and here I was more than a millennium later enjoying and trying to live by that same religion, unaltered. How beautiful a gift Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) left behind for us.

Standing outside of the Masjid I took a few more pictures. I was trying so hard to capture it. To take a piece of it home with me to cherish forever.

I took this picture while being dragged away from the beauty of the Kabah.

As we entered the Masjid, we split off from our friends. They wanted to go up to the second floor to perform their Tawaaf but I asked Abdullah if we could do this one very last Tawaaf on the first floor. He agreed but warned me it would be difficult. Will I ever see you again? I wondered inside while approaching the Kabah. I told Abdullah I didn’t mind. I just wanted to be close to the Kabah.

I made my way in between the sea of people and Abdullah positioned himself behind me with an arm sticking out on each side of me. This was our Tawaaf-making protocol. This protected me from getting knocked over or from any man from inappropriately touching me. (As I said chapters ago, people still commit sins at Hajj, even next to the Kabah.)

While making Tawaaf.

As I made my final Tawaaf sandwiched in the middle of the crowd, shuffling my feet to move an inch forward at a time, I prayed really hard for lots of things. I understand Allah will answer prayers no matter where we are but praying in the vicinity of the Kabah felt so different from day one.

I used to wonder why exactly Allah made a Kabah on this earth. Hajj could’ve just been a pilgrimage to the Masjid itself. Why did a Kabah have to be inside of it? When I would just be sitting and chilling on the second, third, or fourth floors, I would take peeks down at the Kabah and just smile. Seeing that structure standing there so firm and looking so beautiful reminds me of what the religion of Islam is like. Strong and magnificent.

=)”]

The massive clock tower behind the Masjid. At night time the clock is lit up green in the backlight. It’s very beautiful. Allah’s name is written in the center of the clock. All hours of one’s day should be devoted to God and in His remembrance before anything else. [Yeah I find symbolism in everything.

Performing Tawaaf so close to the Kabah.

As Abdullah and I neared the completion of our Tawaaf, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to say we messed up our counting and that we still had one more circuit to do. I wanted some excuse to stay.

How quickly these two weeks in Makkah had passed us by. I only saw this Masjid people wait lifetimes to rest their eyes upon two weeks ago and now I had to say my salaam to it. I prayed for Allah to invite me back. As grueling as this Hajj was, I couldn’t bear the thought that this may be the last time I see the Kabah.

Upon completing our Tawaaf, we went inside the Masjid, drank Zam Zam, and cooled off. I kept taking pictures of the Kabah and the Masjid while Abdullah almost literally dragged me away from it.

The Kabah against the night sky.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: I think I already told you about this tip but I’m going to say it again because it’s one of the most important pieces of advice I can give you: Always, always, always make a rendezvous point with WHOEVER you’re with. If you get lost at Hajj/the Haram then you will NOT find each other. There are hundreds of thousands of people there and every bald guy and abaya cladden gal starts to look the same. Don’t depend on cell phones either. Just make a rendezvous point to always meet up at X appointed time. Got it? Good.

Then we went to meet up with our friends at a meeting spot we had agreed upon beforehand. From there we left the Masjid, walked across the white tiled courtyard area around the Masjid, to the hustling and bustling street to catch another cab to take us back to the apartment. As we walked away, I can’t remember if I turned back to steal a few last glances at the Masjid or if I couldn’t look back at what I was leaving behind. Even now, I try not to think about that night so much. I hold on to the memories of spending hours sitting in the cool shade on the beautiful white tiles, relaxing in the sun, waiting for the next prayer to start. I used to call home from a cheap Samsung phone we bought for a hundred Riyaals and say to my family, “Guess where I am?! The third floor of MAS-JID-AL-HA-RAMMMMMM!!!” I think to them I sounded like I was calling from Disney World. This House of God pwned any magical kingdom.

Yeah, this is how many people were making Tawaaf during the time we were. Imagine how many more make it throughout the entire day, throughout the week, whether or not it is Hajj time. It’s mind boggling.

We took a taxi – this time it was a white car that looked more like a white taxi than all the other ones we had been in so far – all the way to the street corner of our apartment building. We didn’t want him to drop us off right in front of the building just in case he or someone found out we were from America and then came to rob us (because folks overseas think we’re all rollin’ in dough) and now I feel like a dork that we all thought like that because it’s Saudi Arabia for God’s sake. No one steals… they want to keep all their fingers.

I became cheery upon seeing my roommates when I got upstairs. Everyone was busy packing for the next day – the second part of our Hajj package. We were going to Madinah, the City of the Prophet (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam). I would be saying good-bye to one Haram, but now I would get to say hello to another one, since both Masjid al-Haram and Masjid an-Nabawi are called Harams. I let this perk me up as I went to bed that night, excited with anticipation for the following day. And so not understanding that just because Hajj and Makkah were over didn’t mean the experience it entails was too.



Disclaimer: Details accounted in this Hajj series are mostly by memory. If a mistake has been made, especially in explaining something incorrectly about Islam, please contact us so we may correct it. If you have any questions, please post or email them. We will do our best to answer them here or in future chapters. Also, all names used in this series are aliases and not the real names of the actual people.

The Unforseen parallels between staying fit year round and staying devoted during Ramadan

Sarah Hassaine, NASM Certified Trainer, Nadoona Exercise Consultant

I think we all experience that moment of hesitation the day after Eid.  Your eyes are still shut as you stir in bed and suddenly you remember that Ramadan is indeed over.

“I am not fasting today!” Your mind excitedly communicates.

“Wait really? Am I really not fasting?” You question.

“Yes I am not fasting!”

Your eyes fly open and your mouth forms an excited smile. “Back to normal,” you think, breakfast time!

This fuels you to kick off the covers and run to the bathroom and freshen up before you decide what to eat for breakfast.  You may not even be hungry, and you may not even have a craving, but hey, you have been fasting for a month – you deserve it, right?  Just like you deserved all that honey baklava last night at the festive Eid party you went to.

But do you?

The truth of the matter is that we make excuses, and working out and eating right seem to fall off the radar, most likely because it takes diligence, time and commitment to see results.  We live in a society where we undoubtedly like immediate reactions; making a gradual transition to a healthy you, will take a while, thus we all tend to swerve, fall off the wagon, or just never get on.

Fasting, is of course, a spiritual experience.  While your body does use the “quiet time” of not processing food to repair your cells and detox your organs, the reality is that spirituality can be used in other aspects of your life, like taking care of your body.   You have just gone through 30 days of an amazing journey, but now that life is “back to normal” – the idea is to translate some of that same willpower and spirituality you exhibited this past month. Focus on the physical changes you want to make in your life to accompany the spiritual ones that carry on post Ramadan, such as prayer.

So as you descend the steps for breakfast the days after Eid, take some deep breaths to think about how you will get your body on the “right” physical path of exercise and on a healthy regime starting today. For starters, our body should eat 4-5 times a day so that we keep our metabolism working.  Ironically, this is similar to how many times we should engage in prayer.  Just as it is prescribed in the dogma to space out your prayers throughout the day, think about how you can space out your meals more frequently.  This keeps your body in a constant state of burning calories.  Unlike during Ramadan, where you would eat two meals a day (you all woke up for suhoor right? ) – this is unhealthy because whatever we do eat at iftar or suhoor is stored away given the day-long starvation mode.

In light of the fact that Ramadan marks the beginning of a New Year and your success in fasting, I want to share tips on how to turn the page and focus on a new rejuvenated you.

For starters: What is your goal? For a lot of women, it is just weight loss, and that is okay if you understand that is a very broad wish.  Weight loss is like falling in love and being in a relationship: it requires responsibility, ownership, compromise and commitment.  For this New Year, your first goal should be to believe in yourself enough to want to lose weight and engage in all aspects of weight loss, albeit eating healthy, exercising, reducing intake of sugars/starch, etc.

First step: Find and organize your motivation! Share your goal with friends, family, or look for support from groups like nadoona.com who challenge Muslim women to lose weight and live a healthy lifestyle. Decide if you need a food journal or a workout journal and set it up conveniently for your access (Phone App/Google Doc/Written journal).  Food for thought: over 50% of women who had a journal saw results sooner than those who did not.

Second step: Write out a grocery list with healthy food options and stick to it. Set the incentive to try to cook more and have healthy snacks at home (no more Starbucks cookies mid-day!).  Invite friends over instead of going out. Treat yourself to healthy cook books (Do I hear Eid gift to yourself?).

Third step: Plan out all 4-5 meals every morning or the night before. For example, I pack my lunch and all snacks the night before. Occasionally I even prepare my breakfast.  You will feel so in charge of your body and empowered by your control.  In Ramadan, you most likely planned all your meals and you made it a point to be on time every day for dinner.  Be good to your body like this year round and eat frequently and not too late– skipping meals just results in weight gain.

Photo: (C) Dasha Wright

Fourth step: Most importantly – Exercise! It is true ladies, if you don’t burn it, you sit on it.  Start with three days a week of cardio for at least 30-45 minutes and then move up to four days within a few weeks and start interval training.  Once you start working out, your energy will increase and you will slowly feel more addicted to the process.  It’s like fasting, once you started, it got easier. Diversify your workouts so that muscles are always challenged and stimulated.  Remember to integrate core balance training and weights two to three times a week as well.  Make sure it’s fun! The idea is to get your heart rate up and sweat so that you are burning calories, so if you prefer to take dance classes, kick boxing, or anything of the sort, sign up!

Post Ramadan, we are all kind of weak and tired from a month of late nights, heavy meals and socializing.  After you read this article, do me a favor and go to the mirror and look at yourself in the eyes and think about these four steps.  Set the intention to start afresh.  Reflect upon your routine and see where you can make changes.  You just made changes for 30 days, now the idea is to make small changes in your daily life that will result in a healthier, lighter and happier you.  Ask yourself “When is the best time to work out? In the morning or evening?” Answer your question and find a schedule that works, do not shrug it off and say neither!  Ask yourself, “What shall I pack for lunch in the morning?” Answer your question with viable options, not, “I don’t have time I will just go to the deli.” You need to exercise control and demand the change from yourself.

I encourage you to check out nadoona.com. Nadoona is a movement for Muslim women to become aware of their bodies – essentially how they treat it and what they put into it.  On the site, you can sign up to take part in their weight loss challenge program, get fitness tips, partake in a health forum and get inspired by many success stories told personally by other mulimahs nationwide.  Nadoona will work with women to make sure that their workout program and nutrition matches their lifestyle and culture.

Ladies – there are so many resources and opportunities out there, so seize this New Year and unearth your motivation to take care of you. You have just proven to yourself throughout Ramadan how much discipline and self-control you do indeed have. Now, this needs to be translated and extended to healthy living year round. After all, if you don’t take care of your body – who will?  So now that you are in the kitchen and its breakfast time, what will you have?