Secondly, your child DOES have the attention span for an age appropriate book (with flexibility in mind). Small board books, soft books with one word or just a colorful picture you can talk about can be a wonderful experience for your baby/toddler.  Keeping it light-hearted and fun has been key to cultivating a love of books for my son. I believe, this attachment to reading is more important than getting all the way to the end or even reading the book in order from cover to cover.

I started off just reading books we had received from family and friends. Now, we take full advantage of our library as well. Eventually, he began to recognize characters, words, sounds, actions and anticipating things in the story. It is important to know how much their brains are developing through reading; it allows you to better appreciate the impact it is having on your child. I realized that although the books taught meaningful concepts: love, helping others, charity, hard work, they didn’t have the Muslim vocabulary or identity that I wanted for my child. When a character sneezes, I want him to say,” Alhamdulillah.” Inevitably my child will want to read that book (like he does with all of them) at least fifty times and he will learn that after someone sneezes they say,” Alhamdulillah.”

Now, I began inserting my commentary into the various books we have and looked for the opportunity to include vocabulary, concepts etc. that will help him understand what is going on around him. This is where the idea for these book reviews came from. I hope to include a review of a selection of Ibrahim’s and my favorites and how we modified, used and learned from them.

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.

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.

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.

Hajj Day 1 – Completed
Purpose: Enter into the state of ihram, make your intention for Hajj, and spend the day in preparation for the journey of Hajj.
Location: Mina camps

Hajj Day 2 – Completed
Purpose: To spend the afternoon from dhuhr to maghrib prayer times making du’aa and repenting to leave Arafat with all of our sins forgiven. Then to spend the night in Muzdalifah.
Location: The area of Arafat all day until sunset, then the area of Muzdalifah.

Hajj Day 3 – Completed
Purpose: To get out of the state of ihram stone the largest Jamaraat and perhaps also perform Tawaaf al-Ifaadah and Sa’ee.
Location: Begins in Muzdalifah, continue to Mina, then to the Jamaraat. Possibly to Makkah as well.

Hajj Day 4 – Completed
Purpose: To stone all 3 of the Jamaraat structures, perhaps also perform Tawaaf al-Ifaadah and Sa’ee if it was not done on day 3.
Location: Begins in Mina, then to the Jamaraat, then possibly to Makkah as well.

Hajj Day 5 – Now
Purpose: To stone all 3 of the Jamaraat structures and then return to Mina to sleep over for the night or leave by maghrib time to spend the night elsewhere.
Location: Begins in Mina, then to the Jamaraat, then either back to Mina or probably Makkah.

Have you ever waded through muddy water filled with floating trash while rain continues pattering on your head? That’s how I spent the remainder of my last day of Hajj.

I followed Abdullah cautiously, both of us making sure we got our we inched our way carefully on the slippery roads. In the beginning we tried bypassing as much trash as possible. Now we were just trying to make sure we didn’t lose our footing and fall into the sea of garbage trying to climb its way up our legs.

Remind me again, I thought to myself, why exactly I’m doing this? My other self replied, For the sake of food, you malnourished whiner! Oh yeah. Calories.

I tried to stay focused on all the nice food we were going to get once we make it to Bin Dawood, the super grocery store in Saudi Arabia. They had a wide variety of deli meats and cheeses which you can get a couple of kilos of. Then grab some loaves of fresh bread. Or you could get a custom made pizza baked nice and hot right in front of you. Otherwise you could go stroll down the aisles and pick up candies (Ferrero Rocher!) and chips and drinks from all over the world. There’s nothing that store lacked, masha’Allah.

Finally we crossed the median of a busy road, went in between honking cars that weren’t going to get anywhere in traffic and flooding like this, and entered the big Bin Dawood. As soon as I went in I knew it had all been worth it. People were bustling around, cash registers were chiming, shopping carts were squeaking their way through crowds. A small part of my nostalgia was dulled in this store. It was just like the supermarkets back home, alhamdullilah.

Just like the way Abdullah had led me to the Kabah the first time we went to the Haram, he grabbed me saying, “Come on!” with a grin of excitement and helped me snake through the crowd until we got to the pizza area. To our disappointment the ovens were off and the guy working there notified us that the smoke from the ovens goes up and out of a chimney, so due to the rain they had to shut the chimney and therefore can’t bake any pizzas. Aw, darn.

The Bin Dawood logo.

“It’s okay,” we said to one another, turning around to eye the wide selection of foods we had yet to explore. I came into the store with the intention of buying some wheat bread the way I do at home but we didn’t have that luxury. We scuttled over to the bakery and saw they barely had any breads left so we quickly grabbed a lone white loaf and went over to the deli meats and cheeses. We made a full circle around the display case of all the meats and cheeses. We each had a list of five different meats and five different cheeses we wanted. We finally narrowed it down though to some sort of smoked chicken and some spicy Mexican cheese and ordered two kilos of each. It took a long time to put in our order though. As soon as you leave America there’s very little sense of customer service. Everyone looks tired, ticked off, annoyed, wanting to not deal with you, especially since you’re some dorky foreigner who can barely speak two words of Arabic. Oh well. We were two very happy campers as we cradled our bread, meats, and cheeses in our arms and went skipping down the aisles to look at and buy more food.

I had told my husband beforehand I seriously needed some calcium so we headed over to the dairy section. I stood there eyeing all the different milks looking for one that had something like “2% reduced fat” written on it but the only thing I could find was “low fat” so I almost picked that one up when that little voice chimed in again informing me of how malnourished these past couple of weeks have made me look so my hand changed course and grabbed the whole milk. Yeah, white bread and whole milk, I was a dare devil now.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: Take hundreds of dollars with you just for food. At Hajj time, all food prices are jacked up and your Hajj package may or may not include meals for all the other days besides Hajj time. Take a lot of money with you and spend wisely. Share your food with others, I think that always adds barakah (blessings) to the amount of food you have. Buy food for others. Take care of everyone as if they are your own family and Allah will take care of you.

We took all of our groceries and made our way to the payment line, paid a lot of money for the meats and cheeses but we didn’t care at all, and headed back out into the rain. It took another twenty minutes walking down all those filthy alleyways to our apartment building but we finally made it. Everyone in there was so lively and excited. I felt like we were in a (Muslim) dormitory and everyone was (Islamically) partying. It didn’t register in me then but I later figured everyone was just celebrating having completed their Hajj. Whoo hoo! I mean, subhanAllah.

Travel size detergent packets.

But I was too busy feeling like the most disgusting person on earth because my chapals, socks, shalwaar, and abaya were soaked in garbage water. I went into the bathroom, borrowing a friend’s detergent, and washed my clothes, took a shower, and changed into something else nice and warm. When I got done, I found Abdullah out in the upstairs lobby area handing out awesome sandwiches to everyone. Everyone was ecstatic. Done with Hajj AND food?! This must be Heaven.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: Take less clothes and more laundry detergent with you to Hajj. Wash and reuse clothes rather than taking a bunch and changing every day. Cleaning products such as soaps, hand wipes, etc. are a good investment during Hajj time and helps you cut down on the bulky luggage.

We quickly realized it was a mistake having gotten the spicy Mexican cheese. We handed the sandwiches out to a bunch of Arabs and later when they walked by us they’d be sniffling or tearing. Some would be running towards the water cooler (just kidding). Anyway, it tasted awesome even though I had no mustard, mayonnaise, lettuce, and all. It didn’t matter – food was food.

We sat there in the upstairs lobby on a couple of prayer mats eating our chicken and cheese sandwiches next to our good friends, the youngest Egyptian Canadian couple, Alaa and her husband, while they ate their own type of sub sandwich with creamy cheese and cucumbers and talked about our Hajj experiences. And how people in the most beautiful masjid, Masjid al-Haram, walk around blowing snot and spitting phlegm into trash cans all day long – during Tawaaf, during Sa’ee, anytime, anywhere. We talked about how we don’t think we’ll ever forget the sound of those folks spitting their guts out. Alaa and her husband also told us what happened after they had to go back downstairs and redo their Jamaraat. My friend looked relieved that at least they made it out of Mina by maghrib prayer time (or else they would have had to spend the night in Mina instead of being able to return to Makkah as is the Hajj rule) but she was scarred by the experience. Why?

Any one of those people may lean over a trash can and begin a spit fest.

Alaa’s husband told us, “We had to do the stoning of the Jamaraat on the first floor as opposed to the third one. That place got completely flooded with water and filled with trash by the time we got down there so we did our Jamaraat wading through the trash. While we did that my wife was upset and said, ‘We’re good people. I come from a good family… Why is this happening to me?!’”

Upon hearing that we all burst out laughing and for months after that my husband and I would recall that story and laugh again. That’s the truth of Hajj. Everyone struggles in their own way. For some of us the struggle was cleanliness. Hajj is to purify your soul but you’ll get pretty nasty doing it.

Sitting there, nicely showered, eating a sandwich on a prayer mat, I was officially done with Hajj. So why didn’t it feel like it?

I figured it was a matter of it just sinking in and in a few days it would hit me. But it never did.

”Did We not expand for you, [O Muhammad], your breast? And removed from you your burden which had weighed upon your back and raised high for you your repute. For indeed, with hardship [will be] ease. Indeed, with hardship [will be] ease. So when you have finished [your duties], then stand up [for worship]. And to your Lord direct [your] longing.” – Qur’an, Surah ash-Sharh, Chapter 94

Because you see, Hajj never ended. Even today, as I write this months later, I still don’t feel fully out of the Hajj mode. Ever since Abdullah and I got back from Hajj our lives have not been easier. It has been one struggle on top of the next. I got frustrated at some point and said to myself, “Back in Houston, in my own home, I thought I would get to relax now!” The truth is that we will never get to rest. We will always have to work hard. Rest will come with the final breath. Until then, don’t expect complete and final relief from the trials you face. Yes, God knows there’s only so much we can handle so He gives us breaks here and there. God gives us ample amounts of happiness in our lives because He knows that’s our juice so we keep going to get to the Eternal Bliss.

Sounds exhausting, doesn’t it? I believe in taking it one step at a time. Think about the next fifty years and you’ll be cowering under your bed not wanting to come out and face the world again. Think about the next week and it’s much more bearable. You know when people say, “Life happens” – I hear it as “Destiny happens.”Every moment, God is shaping our destinies. Hajj is like a wake up call. It’s something falling out of the sky, hitting you on the head and saying, “Hey, focus!”

”… Indeed, Allah will not change the condition of a people until they change what is in themselves…” – Qur’an, Surah ar-Ra’d, Chapter 13, Verse 11

As I said before, I treated Hajj as the point of no return. I gave myself five days (with preparation beforehand) to get my act together. I knew after Hajj this sort of vacation I had turned my life into would be over. Either Allah would snatch all my comforts away, or I would have to force myself into a new lifestyle. It ended up being a lot of both, alhamdullilah. I knew that Allah would only answer my prayers if I actually worked towards them. They wouldn’t just magically happen. So if I thought I was tired right now, just leaving Mina camp, I had no idea what kind of physical and emotional trials I was about to be lurched in to.





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.

So first Tawaaf, drink Zam Zam, and then pray two units, or raka’at, of prayer behind Maqam-e-Ibrahim, the station of Prophet Abraham. The Maqam-e-Ibrahim is a brass structure located by the Kabah which contains the footprints of Prophet Abraham. Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) also prayed behind the station of Prophet Abraham after his Tawaaf so this is one of the rites of Hajj.

It’s important to note that you do not have to pray literally behind the Maqam-e-Ibrahim by going down to the first floor and standing directly behind the brass structure. You can be on any of the floors of the Haram to pray behind it as long as you stand so that geographically you are somewhere behind it. It’s good to know your way around the Haram so that you can do this, but it’s not a hard thing to do. Abdullah always figured it out and would lead us to a good open area where we could pray in peace and away from crowds behind the Maqam-e-Ibrahim.

Looking at the Kabah from the Sa'ee area. It's very close. (Picture taken the last night I was at the Haram.)

After the two units of prayer comes Sa’ee, walking seven times in between the mountains of Safa and Marwa as done by Hajarah (or Hagar), the second wife of Prophet Abraham and the mother of Prophet Ismaeel, when she was looking for people and water in the desert she was stranded in. We don’t actually have to climb up the mountains the way she did. (Can you even imagine doing that? What an amazing woman.) This portion of the Masjid al-Haram is built upon the mountains so truthfully we only need to get from one base to the other but when we’re this far off we’re actually walking up the mountains but we can’t tell because it’s all a flat surface to us.

Walking down the Sa'ee area to (I think) Mount Marwa.

As we made our way from our prayer spot to the mountain of Safa on the second floor of the Haram I began feeling nauseous. I quickly calculated in my head and realized I hadn’t had food since my little chat with my friend in the tent earlier that day at Asr time. Now it was a good five or six hours later and I had been doing nothing but constantly walking. We walked for an hour to get from Mina to the Jamaraat, stoned the Jamaraat, walked from the Jamaraat to the Haram, walked seven circuits of Tawaaf on the second floor, and now we needed to walk seven times in between Safa and Marwa (which is the amount of times Hajarah walked in between them). My tired and hungry body was not responding well to that idea.

This is the Sa'ee area beside the Kabah. There are the two mountains, opposite of one another and the tiny pillar looking things I believe are where the green lights are supposed to be.

I didn’t say anything to my husband and just did my best to suck it up and keep moving. We came to the Mountain of Safa and began our Sa’ee. I walked with Abdullah and his friend from Safa to the first of the bright green lights on the walls and ceilings. The green lights notify the men that they must now begin running until the next set of green lights. This is symbolic of how Hajarah would walk and then during certain parts, run, between the mountains of Safa and Marwa. So when we do Sa’ee, we must also walk between the mountains and only the able bodied men are required to run between the green lights. Women should not run and just continue walking. (The rites of Hajj really are considerate to us womenfolk. We are never told to do anything that could hurt us. Just imagine how many women come to Hajj pregnant and are able to perform it.)

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Here you can see the green lights along the walls of the Sa'ee area where the men are supposed to pick up their pace and run. Women continue walking. [Picture from Google.

When they would run and I would be left behind, they would get to the second set of green lights and stop running and slow down a great deal waiting for me to catch up to them. This would cause me to try to pick up my pace to meet them faster and not hold them back.

We continued this from Marwa back to Safa, going back and forth, back and forth. When we got to each mountain, we would face the Kabah and raise our hands up to say prayers that Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) would say at the mountains of Safa and Marwa and any personal prayers we had. Then we would continue walking.

Jaabir said when describing the Prophet’s (sal Allahu 'alayhi wasallam) pilgrimage: ‘…and when he approached mount Safa he recited: (i) ‘Indeed Safa and Marwah are from the places of worship of Allaah…’ ‘I begin with what Allaah began with.’ …so he started with Safa and climbed it until he could see the Ka’bah, he then faced it and said: (ii) ‘Allaah is the greatest, Allaah is the greatest, Allaah is the greatest.’ …and then he would say the following three times marking a supplication after each time: (iii) ‘None has the right to be worshipped except Allaah, alone, without partner. To Him belongs all sovereignty and praise and He is over all things omnipotent. None has the right to be worshipped except Allaah alone. He fulfilled His promise, aided His Servant and single-handedly defeated the allies.’ …he (sal Allahu 'alayhi wasallam) would repeat this action at Marwah.

When we were almost through with our Sa’ee, I couldn’t contain my nausea anymore and finally told Abdullah I wasn’t feeling well. So Abdullah and his friend would sit down with me at one of the mountains and wait for me to feel better before we would begin walking again. Great, I was once again holding them back and I felt bad about it. So I would force myself to get up and walk with them but every time I felt like my nausea could no longer be controlled, I would go stand by the Zam Zam stations on the sides and wait there. The Zam Zam stations had a huge drain area built in to the floor so in case of any emergency I wouldn’t be making a mess all over the beautiful white floor of this sacred Masjid. I would also drink a cup of Zam Zam now and then to try to tamper down my hunger and also with the intention that it cure me of my nausea while I prayed for that from Allah.

Approaching Mount Marwa. (You can see part of the mountain right there.)

Finally we got done with Sa’ee. I was thankful to be done with it because I felt as though I couldn’t go any longer without some food. At the same time I felt bad for being thankful to be done doing an act of worship that only a select few of us were chosen – no, invited – to perform during this time. I did my best to not be ungrateful. In a few days we would be leaving Makkah. I didn’t want to part from this city with any regrets. Only Allah knows if I would ever return again.

Mount Marwa. I apologize for my poor picture taking skills.

We left the Masjid and walked to the street corner everyone in our group was going to meet at. Abdullah and his friend went up to a money exchange counter to swap their dollars for Riyaals and then we hit the food joints. During Hajj time, there’s not much choice. Every restaurant only sells one type of meal and one type of drink, take it or leave it. We went up to two different places and saw they were both selling only chicken broasts so we got each restaurant’s price and went with the one that was cheaper by a Riyaal.

More Mount Marwa. (Unless if it's Safa... I'm not 100% sure.)

So it was fried chicken once again for me, but I didn’t complain. Food was food. Calories were calories. A few pieces of oily chicken on top of soggy fries? That was a feast.

We found some steps on the side of a store to sit on and we began eating. Immediately I began feeling better. My nausea died down, I had energy again, and on top of that we found some hot tea as well. Tea was not a cherry on top. Tea was like Heaven on earth.

Dome roof covering the top of the Safa and Marwa mountains. (Inner view.)

As we sat there, Abdullah gulping down his water bottle, me sipping at my tea, and Abdullah’s friend silently eating his food, a fast car whizzed past us. What got us to jump a little was not the car, but the loud bang noise we heard as it went by, like a gunshot. The next thing we knew, Abdullah’s friend was covered in some sort of white substance which had splattered from his head to toe. We were sitting a few steps higher than him so we didn’t get attacked by this white goo. We began digging through our bags looking for napkins, tissues, and wet wipes to give him so he could clean himself off while he kept asking, “What on earth was that?” We looked down at the street and saw a packet of some kind of cream cheese flattened onto the ground with white splatters around it.

“Ohhh that car’s tires went over that package and it exploded onto you,” answered Abdullah. I felt bad for his friend. You see? Hajj isn’t just one kind of a test. Allah is even challenging you when you get attacked by cream cheese on the streets of Makkah. Who knew?

The dome roof covering the top of mountains Safa and Marwa. (Outer view.)

We finished eating, Abdullah went to go buy a kilo of dates, and then we met up with the rest of our friends. I was a happy kid now with a full stomach and knowing we were going to hitch a ride back to Mina. Later, I only wished it could’ve been that simple.

Abdullah’s friend, Abdullah, and I hung out in the back of the group while the Egyptian brothers flagged down taxis and negotiated prices with them to get us all to Mina. In Makkah and Madinah during Hajj time they don’t actually have taxis. Well, they do have official taxis, but more than those you will see just average Saudi citizens, including young boys, driving around in their cars, pick-up trucks, or SUVs with one person in the driver’s seat and the other in shotgun sticking his head out the window going, “MINAMINAMINAAAA!!” or “HARAM HARAM HARAMMMMMMM!!” to let you know where they’re willing to take you.

The first few “MINA MINA MINAAAA” guys that the Egyptian brothers flagged down were demanding at least 100 Riyaals per person to take us from the Haram to Mina. After about the third guy who said this to us I became so disgusted with those men. What kind of people were they to be robbing guests in their city?

Finally with one guy the Egyptian brothers negotiated to the price of about twenty-five riyaals per person, which was still ridiculous but what could we do? So we all piled into the SUV and as the guy began driving off with us one of the Egyptian brothers confirmed the price with him and the man then lied to us and said that twenty-five was not the price he agreed on, so his wingman jumped out of his shotgun seat, threw open the door and told us all to get out or pay what he was demanding. I was furious.

My patience was running low and I was suddenly not feeling so well again. It wasn’t nausea this time. Now it was my stuffy nose problem from Muzdalifah turning into a sore throat problem too. All I wanted was a place to lie down and fall asleep for days.

The Egyptian brothers kept doing their best to flag down and negotiate with a few other guys. Finally an elder man agreed to take us to Mina for about twenty-five Riyaals each. We piled in once again, the brothers made sure he was going to stick true to his word, he reassured them again and again on the price they had agreed upon, and we were on our way.

In the beginning everything was alright. We were a bit squished being twelve adults in one SUV, including the driver, and Abdullah and his friend had to make do with the trunk actually, but it was okay. I figured the driver liked to talk to his customers because he kept going on and on about stuff in Arabic that I couldn’t understand. While he drove, he pointed out a house to us that was in front of the Haram and told us that was the home of Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam). I don’t know how valid that statement was but maybe it was the house he lived in with his first wife, Khadijah (may Allah’s blessings be upon her).

The supposed house of Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu 'alayhi wasallam) from across the Haram.

Abdullah passed his kilo of dates around to everyone including the driver. The driver passed around a box of tissues which no one needed so we passed it back up to the front. Then, I guess surprised to see his tissue box, he passed it back around emphasizing that we all take some tissues, and we passed it back up saying we were fine, then he passed it back around, so we women in the back seat kept passing it to one another, some even taking some tissues by force. Finally resulting in one of the sisters opening her big purse and made as if to stuff the tissue box into it because none of us knew what on earth to do with it. We all began giggling in the back and settled in for the ride. I ended up needing the tissues though because my nose started running. I felt like my body was about to give out.

After about fifteen or so minutes we realized the guy had driven us in a circle. I asked one of the sisters, “Weren’t we just here?” and she just shook her head in puzzlement.

I drifted in and out of sleep. Was it sleep or was I passing out? I was exhausted and being squished to one wall of the car in a traffic jam which was spitting exhaust into our already claustrophobic ride was not helping the sick feeling I had growing inside of me.

At some point my husband and his friend grew hot in the trunk of the SUV, and they were squished, so they opened the back window with permission and hung their feet out of it. Those poor guys, one was 5′ 8” and the other was about six feet and they were packed in the back almost like sardines.

During one of my phases of slithering in and out of sleep, I was jolted back to full consciousness by a BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP because there was some maniac in the car behind ours who had his hand on the horn and was not letting up. I turned around and tried my best to throw a glare of death into the blinding headlights of the car. Abdullah and his friend panicked and after a few seconds realized that the guy was ticked off because they had their feet sticking out of the car and towards him. I understand this might be something very insulting in Arab culture but GOOD GOD! GIVE US A BREAK, WILL YA?!

I was so angry I could’ve jumped out of the car and thrown all my snotty tissues at the guy. Good thing I was too tired to move. I eventually fell back into some state of sleep. Only then to be woken up by someone talking very loudly. It ended up being Abdullah. I opened my eyes and looked around and everyone was very quiet, very tired. I turned my head, uttered his name one time, he understood I was telling him to stop talking. I felt bad about it later; he and his friend were just trying to make the most of this dreadful ride that no one liked. Was it better that they suffer in silence with the rest of us rather than try to benefit from their enthusiastic conversation?

No, of course not. The problem wasn’t anyone else in the car except for me. I was the one messing up my Hajj and now I was trying to mess up Abdullah’s too. This was my test and my stuffy nose, sore throat, and heavy eyelids were making me blind to it. When I later looked back on this moment, I was ashamed. I failed to throw a stone at the devil. I failed to remember God is Greater than all of my tests in that moment. I failed to think of how this was all my test at Hajj. I hadn’t been broken into all this time… until now.

Still not discovering what was going on around me and how it was affecting me, I was getting agitated as I listened to the conversation that now took place in the car, catching snippets of what was said in English in the midst of all the Arabic.

“Wait, is this the Ashishah building?”

“Why are we by King Fahad tunnel?”

“The Jamaraat? Up ahead? How?”

We threw open the doors and began filing out. As we did so, some car behind ours began honking at us, I felt like taking out my extra Jamaraat pebbles and pelting them at the guy’s car. We paid the driver some amount unknown to me now and regrouped on the sidewalk.

One of the Egyptian brothers filled us in on what happened in the car, “He brought us back to the apartments we were staying at in Makkah.”  The apartments? That was supposed to be only a ten to fifteen minute drive from the Haram. We’ve been in the car for at least forty-five minutes! That was the bad news.

The good news was that if we walked through this King Fahad tunnel then we will reach the Jamaraat and then from there we can just walk on into Mina. What in bloody hell?

I caught Abdullah and asked him to tell me very clearly what was going on. “Are we freaking walking back to Mina from here?”

“Yeah,” he said. “That building right there is the apartments we stayed in last week. But we’re right by the Jamaraat. It won’t be too far…”

We walked for another good hour or so. Going through the tunnel with hundreds of others, walking up to the Jamaraat, passing them up, starting to see the beginning of the Mina tents, and on and on. During the walk I continued to grow agitated. Muttering to myself in my head about how jacked up this entire situation was, how horrible these Saudi drivers were, just continuing to mentally ruin my entire Hajj experience.

Anger is a raging fire and that night it completely consumed me. At Hajj, when the flood gates of emotions are broken through, it’s not just the things that are happening around you that make you upset – it’s everything. Everything in my entire life that I was upset over, struggling with, trying to handle… everything came crashing down on me.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: You may have moments like these. If you do, some of the best things you can do are to sit or lie down, drink some water, eat something, and just do your best to relax. If your spouse is having an off moment/day then do your best to be there for him/her. Even if they don’t want to talk about it at least walk with them and stay with them.

I wasn’t actually angry. I was extremely sad. I thought of all the people who have hurt me, all the events which have beat at me, all the years prior to this day during which I always felt enough was enough. All these griefs, sorrows, and pains accumulated and translated into agitating questions. Why wasn’t I physically strong enough to deal with this walk? Why wasn’t my immune system strong enough to keep me from losing my voice? Why wasn’t I strong enough to control my anger right now? Why wasn’t my heart sorting through all the problems in my life like it usually does? Why wasn’t my brain telling me the routine, ‘It’ll be okay, you’re stronger than this, you’re better than this, you’ve been through worse, much worse’? What the heck was wrong with me tonight?

I was sick and I was tired. I’m not talking about my sore throat and my fatigue. I’m talking about emotionally I was feeling sick and growing tired. It was becoming one of those nights I’ve had plenty of times in the past but always dealt with where I don’t feel like fighting sometimes.

The truth was that I was in unknown territory there in the Saudi. It was homesickness with eman (faith) sickness with stuffy-nose-sickness all becoming this big mess in my heart. I barely remember coming back to the Mina camps. I just remember someone saying it was 3:00am. I remember there being food and I rejected all the trays and yogurts. I remember peeling off my scarf and abaya. I remember collapsing onto my mattress next to all the other sleeping bodies in the tent. I hoped my dreams would take me somewhere peaceful for a long, long — and I was out.

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.

Hajj Day 1 – Completed
Purpose: Enter into the state of ihram, make your intention for Hajj, and spend the day in preparation for the journey of Hajj.
Location: Mina camps

Hajj Day 2 – Completed
Purpose: To spend the afternoon from dhuhr to maghrib prayer times making du’aa and repenting to leave Arafat with all of our sins forgiven. Then to spend the night in Muzdalifah.
Location: The area of Arafat all day until sunset, then the area of Muzdalifah.

Hajj Day 3
Purpose: To stone the largest Jamaraat and perhaps also perform Tawaaf al-Ifaadah and Sa’ee.
Location: Begins in Muzdalifah, continue to Mina, then to the Jamaraat. Possibly to Makkah as well.

At Hajj, I don’t think I dreamt at all. I don’t think I ever slept long enough to enter into REM stage.

I felt like I had just dozed off when I felt someone gently tapping my shoulder. I fought against my sleep and heavy eyelids to look up at whoever it was, but due to the angle I was sleeping in the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a brother and that jolted me wide awake because I remembered where I was and how openly I was sleeping around so many men. I didn’t even have a light blanket covering me.

I turned to face my awakener and it was one of the sisters from my Hajj group who had slept at my feet during the night. But I looked at the black sky above me and realized it still was night. Oh God, how much sleep did I even get?

Then the sister spoke to me, “Hey, it’s going to be fajr time soon. Do you want to get in line for the bathroom and make wudu?”

Ah, the BSG, back in action.

Sorry, I meant Bathroom Support Group…

And it was almost fajr time. That was a good sign. That meant I slept for about three to four hours, alhamdullilah.

I nodded that I wanted to go with her and quickly wiped my hands over my face in case I had drool there. But then again, everyone here looked like one big blaghy mess. No one cared what anyone else looked like.

I got up and followed her to the bathrooms. They were the same shabby kind that were at the Mina and Arafat camps. But it was even worse here because the lines were longer and the women were feistier. If they were uncomfortable and upset in the Mina camps, imagine being out in the open, cold desert like this. We stood there for all of five seconds before realizing the sun will have risen before we get to the stall doors so we left and entered the wudu area lines instead. It took a little while and it was difficult to make wudu by uncovering body parts like our arms when there were so many men around that area and some men even coming to the women’s side to make wudu because the men’s lines were even longer than ours. But somehow we managed and then began walking back to our … sleeping grounds. (I don’t know what to call it. We didn’t even have a tent anymore since Muzdalifah is all about spending the night under the sky.)

Don’t go to Hajj without one of these securely strapped to your belly. And don’t forget to thoroughly wash it when you get back to the States.

As I was walking I realized, like the night before, I still wasn’t feeling very good. Especially after making wudu with the cold water from the faucets, I was feeling chilly and my nose was getting stuffy. Then, like a mirage in the desert I saw a couple of young Arab boys standing in the midst of a crowd by a small table and upon that table they were selling hot tea. I got so excited and started patting down my abaya wondering if I had any cash on me. My hand hit my money belt on my waist (which I would often forget I was wearing underneath all of my clothes) and remembered I shouldn’t do things like that since people get robbed at Hajj all the time. Yeah, of all places and of all times, people get robbed at Hajj. One second you’re making Tawaaf, circulating around the Kabah, and the next you realize someone took a knife to your belly, sliced your money belt open, snatched all your crisp one hundred dollar bills, and ran away all before you even had time to look down and realize what just happened.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: It is an absolute must that you take a money belt with you to wear at your waist and keep all of your money except that which you need on hand in the belt. Wear it everywhere you go and to sleep and to the bathroom. Don’t think God designates Angels just to protect your cash (and jewelry) at Hajj – take responsibility for your belongings and then trust in Allah.

So I slowly slid my hands away from my belt and kept at a brisk pace to get to Abdullah so I could ask him for a Riyaal or two so I could purchase some tea. In Saudi, you can buy black tea with sugar for one Riyaal and tea with sugar and milk for two Riyaals. But when I got back to our ‘sleeping grounds’ a brother from our group arrived at the same time laughing and telling the other brothers, “Those kids over there with the tea are selling hot water for ten Riyaals and tea for twenty!”

10 Riyaals = $2.67... for hot water... in a tiny cup.

I plopped down onto my mattress in defeat, sniffled a little to somehow breathe through my nose and realized my eyes were getting watery too.

Then I did what any girl in distress would. I asked Abdullah for the 100 Riyaal cell phone we purchased upon arriving in Saudi to make international calls. I punched in the U.S. country code and a cell phone number, held it to my ear and listened to it ring.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: Take a phone with you to Hajj (or buy a cheap one there since your phone will probably get lost or damaged anyway) so you can make calls at least to your spouse in case you two get separated and lost, which is bound to happen. We bought one cell once we got there and later regretted not buying another one. You end up needing them.

Then came a voice, “Hello?”

I whimpered into the receiver, “Assalaamu’alaikum Bhabi…” [Desi lesson of the day: “Bhabi” is the term used to refer to your older brother’s wife in Urdu.]

“Hey Basmah! Wa’alaikumusalaam! What’s up?! Hajj mubarak! Well, I know you’re not done with all of Hajj but you did Arafat and that’s great! That’s one of the most important parts! Oh yeah and Eid mubarak, it’s the day after Arafat there, right? How’s it going?!”

“It’s good…” I mustered to say. Then I could no longer bear it. I began sniffling and tears were forming in my eyes, “Bhabi, I’m so tired and I haven’t slept enough in the last couple of days and I’m so hungry, I don’t even have anything to eat, and now I’m out in the middle of no where and there’s nothing here for us to eat or drink and I’m just waiting to pray fajr so I can leave and go back home, I just want to go back to Mina so badly, I’m so tired, and on top of everything else now I’m getting a stuffy nose and my throat is starting to feel sore because yesterday it was so hot – I mean so so so so so hot I felt like it was the Day of Judgment – and the only water we had was ice cold and I kept drinking it even though I knew I shouldn’t in this type of weather but I couldn’t stop myself because I was so so so thirsty and I’m really grateful to be here but it’s just soooooo hardddddd…”

I think I said all of that in one breath. My poor sister-in-law had to somehow console me from the other side of the world but I just needed someone to vent to. I knew with a positive attitude things would get better and after I hung up with her I did my best to focus on the future. I also made Abdullah promise me he would buy me tea as soon as he found some for one Riyaal.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: We’re all human beings who get stressed out and sometimes need to complain. It’s better to vent it out rather than take your frustrations out on another pilgrim at Hajj, thus ruining both of your Hajj experiences. Even though Abdullah had established the No Complain Rule with me, he still allowed me to vent to him about situations rather than forcing me to bottle it up and take it out in another unhealthier way. Have someone with you at Hajj you can just let it out to sometimes when it gets too hard, but be strict on yourselves of not letting this trickle into backbiting.

We waited for it to be fajr time so we could pray and get going. While we waited I started shifting my mattress around to look for all the rocks I had slept on in the middle of the night. I had saved a plastic water bottle for the occasion of collecting rocks that we would need to throw at the Jamaraat during the next three days of our Hajj. Actually you don’t really need rocks, just pebbles, something small that you can hold with just your forefinger and thumb. Others remembered they needed to collect rocks too so we began helping each other find some. My hands were covered with dust by the time I got done collecting 49 rocks for myself and 49 for my husband, but it didn’t really matter – I already had dirt all over me from the Mina tents, Arafat, and now Muzdalifah.

It finally came to be fajr time so we prayed the dawn prayer and then packed up our things to start getting on the buses that were going to take us back to the Mina camps for the next stage of Hajj.

Simple enough task. But this was Hajj. The simplest things become your greatest tests.

We stepped out of the fenced area as the sun was rising to get in line for the buses which were there. They were standing right in front of us. But they were all full and men were still trying get on board to at least stand on the steps so they could hitch a ride to the Mina camps.

I took one look at the situation in this huge crowd and then put my bag down and sat. Then as the crowd grew larger I stood up because sitting would become unsafe very soon. Anyone could accidentally trip over me and fall.

I began playing the waiting game. Standing there, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, picking my bag up when a new bus came, and putting it back down between my feet when it filled up before I could take more than a few steps towards it. Abdullah and I began debating the idea of just walking to the Mina camps from Muzdalifah. We could do it but once we start walking, there’s no turning back.

We hung around the bus area a while longer, seeing if there was a way we might be able to get on – I could because I was a woman and he could because he would just say he’s my husband and they would let him. But my hope grew fainter and fainter as dawn began to break over the horizon.

And as the sun rose in this desert, the Hajjis began getting nervous and agitated. Were they going to make it to the camps on one of these buses? Chances were slim.

Then came the arguments between several brothers.  Abdullah stood there disappointed and saying, “Oh God, don’t they know they’re being tested and now they’re ruining their Hajj?”

“It’s the sun,” said a brother from our Hajj group. “The sun is rising and they’re running out of water here in the desert so now people are gonna start trippin’.”

Actually, his statement made me a little nervous too. I didn’t want to get stuck here and then have to walk back to camp in the heat of the Arabian sun.

Two or three brothers who were trying to get on the bus that was about to leave because it was packed full were arguing with each other, actually shouting at each other. I couldn’t tell what was going on but they started getting into each other’s faces. The whole crowd hushed as they could see what was about to come.

A real fight.

I could see the clenched fists, the anger in their eyes, and the exhaustion of these last couple of days seeping through their pores with their sweat. This was getting out of hand.

And then, it got worse.

Another man started moving towards them through the crowd screaming at the top of his lungs, “ALLAHU AKBAR! ALLAHU AKBAR!” When I say at the top of his lungs, I mean it. He was screaming with everything he had. I turned to say to Abdullah, ‘Oh my God, look at that crazy guy,’ but he wasn’t next to me anymore.

Then the man reached the brothers who were about to fight. “ALLAHU AKBAR! ALLAHU AKBAR! FEAR ALLAH, FEAR ALLAH! THIS IS HAJJ, THIS IS HAJJ! THIS IS YOUR TEST!”

He screamed and screamed. He got right up in their faces and screamed these words into them. The men got completely freaked out by this guy and began backing off. I started thinking, “Whoa, this guy is going to punch— OH MY GOD THIS GUY IS MY HUSBAND!” I started panicking. My  husband, the calm and collected one, the one who never raises his voice, the one who trained me for Hajj making me go walking and running, making me learn to carry heavy things for long distances, teaching me to learn how to forgive people, teaching me how to not complain and control my anger… I couldn’t believe what he was doing now. He  finally cracked.

The brothers who had been arguing backed down and a few minutes later he made his way through the crowd to me. I was terrified of him in that moment and took a small step to back away. I had no idea what was going on in his head.

But he was smiling big, I mean Sunnah style with the molars showing and all that. “Did you see that?” he asked me.

I nodded, too afraid to blink, and then I asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah of course I am. Why?”

“Uhh…”

And then a few other brothers from our Hajj group started to come up to us asking him if he was okay and he kept enthusiastically telling them he was perfectly fine.

I finally found my voice and I started asking him, “But… you were just… screaming your head off right now…”

“Yeah I know,” he replied, “I stopped them. Did you see that? They were about to start fist fighting and I stopped it. When people are about to do something crazy, you introduce someone crazier and it makes them chill out.” He was still grinning wide.

Oh… Of course, how could I forget that from psychology 101… not.

I made him promise then and there to not do that ever again and he started laughing at me. Whatever.

We continued waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Then came act two. A tall, strong Jamaican guy in his white ihram contrasting his dark skin.

He started busting his way through the crowd and stood on one of the two entrances to the newest bus and blocked the door so that no man could get on. They were getting angry with him and tried pushing their way on the bus but he held his ground. They were no match for him.

He turned to the crowd of women with a long extended arm and yelled, “WOMAN! COME!” As if under a trance of obedience, women immediately started shuffling through the crowd to make it to him. He then protected them and blocked the men from getting on the bus and let the women on only. I saw several women from our Hajj group getting on the bus so I asked Abdullah if I should go too and he told me to go for it. I almost started walking in that direction when the bus became full.

The Jamaican man jumped off the steps and a few men argued with him about what he just did and he yelled back at them. When he came close to where we were standing, the brothers from our Hajj group tried to tell him he needs to calm down.

“Brother, what’s wrong?” the brother who had told us about the water situation in Muzdalifah asked the Jamaican guy who was so frustrated and hyped up he couldn’t bear to stand still.

He answered in his accent, “I’m PISSED off!”

“Okay brother, what are you pissed off about?”

“These brothers! They won’t let the sisters on the bus!”

“I know brother but you need to relax. Just relax.”

Don't leave for Hajj without a bottle of these.

The black brother started getting annoyed and moving away when some sisters came up to him and said they need to get on the bus. He said, “Come with me, I’ll get you on the bus.”

“But we don’t want the men touching us,” they said referring to the men trying to push their way on the bus when the women are getting on.

“No man will touch you! I promise!” he said slapping his strong chest. “If a man touch you, I’ll – “ and he began threatening any future violators in a fashion Muslimah Source doesn’t allow to be described here.

He led the women towards the next bus and I stayed with Abdullah. “I’m not going with him,” I told him.

The sun was completely risen now and the realization was deeply set in that we wouldn’t make it onto a bus. What a great (and typical) way to start day three of Hajj.

We got together with several of our Hajj group members and decided we would walk to the Mina camps. I figured we would’ve made it to Mina by now if we had left right after praying fajr but it was okay. No time for regrets. We could only move forward now.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: You see, this is why Hajj is just like life itself. You have to be patient with your situation, you have to stay positive, and you can’t just sit down where you are and give up, you’ve got to keep going.

So we began the trek by picking one brother to head our group. He would hold up an orange foam mattress in the air to serve as a beacon for all of us to follow. Another brother, one of our group volunteers, was going to bring up the rear of the group to make sure everyone stays together and doesn’t get lost. (On the note of our foam mattresses, several of us, including me, abandoned ours right there in Muzdalifah. We wouldn’t need them anymore and we certainly didn’t want to carry them with us on this hike across the desert.)

TIPS N’ TRICKS: I’m an impatient walker. Sometimes I would pass up our whole group, including the leader and keep walking on ahead since it was a straight shot ahead. But that’s dumb. Do NOT separate from your group. Walk slow and stay together. If you get lost in a sea of hundreds of thousands of Hajjis you will not get home. I repeat, you will NOT make it home. The Mina campgrounds are like a labyrinth, don’t think you’ll make it there alone.

Follow the leader and don't stray from the pack.

We began walking out of Muzdalifah by weaving in between the long strings of buses. Most of them were full but they weren’t going anywhere because they couldn’t. They were stuck behind all the other buses.

Walking through all of that exhaust I was grateful I didn’t get on one of these buses. I probably could’ve gotten on them half an hour ago and it probably wouldn’t have budged since then.

But at that time I was trying my best to be optimistic and pretend that it’s a five minute walk to Mina.

However long the walk took, though, I don’t think I knew it was only going to be the first of a series of hot and painful expeditions to bear starting from this day until the last day of Hajj.



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.

Ibn al Sammak said to Al-Rashid when asked to be brought a cup of drinking water:

“Commander of the faithful, if this drink were refused to you, how much would you offer to get it?”

“My entire kingdom,” replied al-Rashid.

“Commander of the faithful,” continues the other, “if you found that you could not pass water from your body, how much would you sacrifice to be able to do so?”

“My entire kingdom,”

“O lord of the believers, how can you boast of a kingdom which is not worth as much as a little urine and a few mouthfuls of water?”

Water, water, I need water. That’s all I could think as I stumbled over the rocks jutting out of the mountain, with dirt covering my abaya and hands. It was so hot it felt like the sun was sitting directly on top of my head. I didn’t dare to look up, afraid if I saw the sun I would surely melt away.

I was sweating, my throat was dry, and standing on the side of the mountain looking down to our tent back in the Arafat camp my hope began to evaporate in the heat as well. I had only been on the mountain for about an hour saying my prayers for myself, my family, my friends, anyone who had sent me requests to pray for them, and even people who hadn’t asked me to pray for them but I could remember there were a few things I could ask Allah for today that would benefit them. I got done with all of the prayers and had meant to stay there on that mountain that whole day until dusk but my body clearly could no longer handle it – not without a cooler of water, a granola bar, and an umbrella.

Mountain ranges around our Arafat camp site.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: Water, water, water. Always have it with you no matter where you go. And if you’re going to be silly and adventurous like me on days like Arafat, have LOTS of water, some fruits or granola bars to eat, and an umbrella to shade you from the sun if you can’t sit in an already shaded area.

I tried to rush down as fast as I could without tripping and rolling down the mountain. I looked down at my cushioned midnight blue Champion slippers, or chapals as I liked to call them in Urdu, and wished I had worn boots with good grip in the soles. “Well, you’re supposed to be using your energy praying, not climbing mountains!” I told myself. As we made our way down, I made sure to steer clear of a huge camel standing around the area which had a colorful décor set on its one large hump. A man was walking the camel around, allowing people to sit on it and take pictures, making money off of the whole ordeal. I looked at the people taking turns sitting on the seat within the décor on the camel’s back and wondered why oh why on earth they were wasting these few precious hours of the Day of Arafat on this. But oh well. I refocused reminding myself I need to worry about myself and not others – my Afterlife was at stake too.

More mountains around our camp.

Abdullah and I finally made it down the mountainside but we still had to cross a road. We jogged across half the road to avoid oncoming traffic, waited for the next half to clear up, then jogged again. We made it to the dirt shoulder of the road and then we had to go through a small opening in the fence but there was a group of Malaysians filing through to come out of the fenced area. A crowd was forming behind Abdullah and I of people trying to get back into the camping grounds.

Finally someone from behind us forced his way through the fence before the entire Malaysian group could get through and then everyone else from our side of the fence was following suit. Abdullah grabbed me and put me in front of the fence next saying, “Come on, if we don’t go now we won’t get through.”

And more mountains.

I was scared going through that little fence opening because on the right side was solid ground but on the left side, if I misplaced just one step, was pure nothing. The hill dropped off right there and I would fall fifteen feet onto a pile of rocks. On top of that, I’m afraid of heights. With sweat pouring down, not from the heat as much as the tension of not falling and the crowd from both sides of the fence pushing at me to go through so they could also, I finally stepped through and almost pushed into some of the Malaysian women on the right to ensure I didn’t fall over the edge. Then Abdullah stepped through and I looked at what lay ahead still between myself and our tent and felt dread overcome me.

Abdullah quickly passed me up and made his way down the steep slope and then looked up at me to see how little I had budged. Climbing the slope earlier when we went up to the mountain on the other side of the road was one thing. Going back down was going to be more grueling for me in my useless comfort chapals.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: Chapals (Urdu for slippers or sandals) are very important at Hajj. A good pair of shoes/sandals/slippers are integral for your ease at Hajj. We bought ours at Payless, buy one get one half off, Champion brand, two pairs for each of us because your sandals can easily get lost or stolen. Just keep in mind you will do MILES of walking one day after the next. Wear something comfortable.

I took a deep breath and promised myself I wouldn’t fall and meet death on the sharp rocks below; I could do this. I slowly made my way down, trying to place my feet on the biggest rocks I could find, but sometimes I wouldn’t have that luxury and would have to plant my feet on nothing but dirt or a bunch of small pebbles. This would cause me to slip and start sliding down with no way to control myself so I hurled my body weight to face the slope of the hill rather than the base and I would sort of fall over onto the hill, grip it with my hands and then slowly make my way down using one of my hands with my feet. (Scaredy cat? Fine, say what you will. I just didn’t want to spend one of the most important days of my life in the clinic because of my clumsiness.)

The steep hill at which I risked my life. =P

Finally I made it down in one piece, covered in dirt. (Good thing I was wearing a creamy light brown abaya that day.)

TIPS N’ TRICKS: Think carefully about what you’re going to wear during your Hajj stay. I had these awesome, comfortable abayas I bought from Pakistan, but they were an utter fail when it came to letting air pass through them. Sitting in the desert I started to feel like I was suffocating in my clothes. A thin Pakistani shalwaar-kameez would’ve been a better choice at least for this one day.

This escapade made me even thirstier than ten minutes ago when I was atop the mountain on the other side of the road so I went inside our tent and my friends looked at my reddened face and affirmed their beliefs that I was crazy to go out there in the heat on top of that mountain. I said nothing. I just headed for the ice water cooler and poured out a drink for myself, gulped it down, then poured another, gulped, another, gulp, another, gulp. I couldn’t stop drinking the water. Then I poured some water down my shirt and on my face and hands and arms.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: Later on when I talked to some family members in Pakistan who have gone to Hajj, they told me they took a dolly with cases of water bottles on it to Arafat and Muzdalifah. If you can do something like this it will be one of the most worthwhile investments.

I never realized how much of a blessing water was until I came to Hajj. Spending so much time out in the desert, under the scorching sun, it really puts one of our most vital needs into perspective. Did I really have to travel halfway across the world to understand this?

Yes, yes I did. I knew I never would have understood this living at home or even visiting my family in Pakistan. In Karachi, there had been summers when we would have little water but we could always make do. We could always run over to the corner store to buy bottled water, no big deal. But at Arafat, there are no stores. You’re in the middle of the desert and all the people around you are just here to pray and pray and pray their hearts out. There is no time to for buying and selling. It’s almost as if life comes to a halt.

I rested a little while and talked to my friends about how their first hour had been. Everyone was terribly hot and the high temperature was making them sleepy. These were the worst four hours of our lives for us to fall asleep during. Some people were napping though and told others to wake them up later if they keep sleeping. The heat was truly unbearable.

I thought I knew heat. I lived in Saudi Arabia and I remember the sun and how it’s so dry you can barely grow anything. Now I live in Houston, where summer temperatures easily hit over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. I also have family in Karachi I visit from time to time. It’s also blazing hot, especially when it’s the middle of June and all the electricity goes out so the fans and AC don’t work for hours at a time.

But this day, the day of Arafat, was something else. We could be under the shade but it wouldn’t protect us from the heat. We could drink water but it wouldn’t quench our thirsts. It was impossible to rescue ourselves.

At a time like this, in a situation like this, I couldn’t help but think about the Day of Judgment when the sun will be above us and we’ll be standing there naked with sweat rising around us depending upon how many sins we committed. I couldn’t help thinking about how I had just thought of how the sun felt like it was sitting upon my head and that’s exactly how close the sun will be to us on the Day of Judgment. I couldn’t help thinking how I felt I couldn’t escape from the heat and that’s exactly how it’ll be on the Day of Judgment.

Only those who will be under the shade of Allah’s Throne will be saved from it.

This day of Arafat, this wasn’t just to forgive our sins. I don’t think anyone can leave that mountain and think to himself or herself that they’re saved from the Hellfire and go on living a kickback lifestyle. I think everyone leaves it shuddering, remembering the heat and the struggle of the day of Arafat and knowing this is probably one ten-thousandth of what the Day of Judgment will be like. I think everyone leaves the mountain of Arafat knowing all their sins have been forgiven but still begging Allah for His Mercy.

Halfway through the day our Hajj leader stood up to deliver a speech. We already had the sermon about two hours ago so I figured the reason for this speech was to re-motivate everyone, remind them of how important this day is.

He told us things we already know but as the Qur’an says, the reminder benefits the believers. He spoke of how much mercy Allah has for His servants and how much Allah loves us. I liked his speech because I feel like we don’t talk enough about love. Allah loves us, that’s why He helps us and is always working to save us. We talk so much about Allah’s attributes of Mercy and Forgiveness but we forget about Al-Wadud, the Most Loving.

Our Hajj leader told us of the story of the woman who once lost her child. She frantically searched for the child and could not find him. When she finally did, she was crying and quickly picked the child up and began nursing immediately right then and there. Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) turned to his companions and said, “Do you see that woman there? Do you think she will ever throw her child in a pit of fire?” The companions immediately answered that of course she wouldn’t. Then the Prophet (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) told them that Allah loves His creation even more than that woman loves her child.

Allah will do everything to help us, to protect us, to save us from the Hellfire. He doesn’t want us to go there; He wants us to come to Him. He wants to meet us in the Paradise He created not for Himself, but for us. He wants to show us His Face and what blessing is greater than that?

Our leader went on to tell us how much potential each one of us has. We can do great things with our lives. He reminded us when we go back home from Hajj we shouldn’t waste our time but instead do something productive. We all have the ability to do it and now we’re at a place during a time we can be and should be praying for anything and everything. Pray for Allah to make us capable of such great feats and insha’Allah He will help us make them realities.

The speech finished around 3:30pm, and at this time we were getting our first meal of the day. I saw the food boxes and all I could think was, “CALORIES!” (I know it’s corny but at Hajj I learned to eat according to what will give me the most amount of calories, not what’s healthier for me like the way I eat at home.) Hajj was so exhausting that I would eat whatever I got, no matter how bad it tasted and I tried to always lick my tray clean but over the course of the days my stomach got so small I sometimes couldn’t even finish one small aluminum tray.

After all the women received their two meals and drinks, I opened up my aluminum tray eagerly with so much delicacy that not a grain of rice could fall from it. I saw the disappointed expressions on many people’s faces as they opened up their trays. Some even covered their trays back up and put them aside. I understood why they did so when I uncovered mine. It was plain yellow rice with two or three pieces of hardened meat on top which was mostly bone. Talk about dry.

I looked past what it was though and said silently, “Calories. I need energy. This is all we have for the rest of today and even tomorrow morning.” I dug my plastic spoon in and started shoveling the rice into my mouth. Since the meat couldn’t be broken into with my spoon, I just picked it up by the bone and started tearing it apart using my teeth. It didn’t take long for my stomach to become full and my mouth to become dry from the meal. I still had half of my tray left so I covered it to eat it later. I also carefully set aside the second meal we received in a small white box which carried breakfast items. Now my mission was to find a clean plastic cup, fill it with water from one of the orange coolers, rehydrate myself, and get back out there and start saying my prayers.

I went to the orange cooler that was closest to my little mattress and saw that women were putting their small cylindrical cans of soda inside of it. I was puzzled for a second and then they looked at me and said, “We’re keeping our drinks cold; they gave them to us hot.” I knew that, but I didn’t care. What were the rest of us supposed to do for water?

But they didn’t stop there, they continued saying, “And sister, you shouldn’t be drinking out of this cooler anyway. We saw them filling it and they’re using the bathroom water. Do you want to drink it and have germs in your mouth?”

I think they expected me to thank them for such a grand favor they were doing for me, protecting me from germs and all, but I just said, “Oh,” and started backing away looking for another cooler. I told Abdullah later it’s a good thing he told me not to argue with anyone since it would be useless and would mess up my Hajj experience because I sort of felt like telling those people off saying, “I would much rather take a risk getting a stomach ache tomorrow than end up fainting from dehydration or heat stroke on one of the most important days of my life.”

Instead I walked away and I found another cooler, opened the lid to peek inside and see if anyone had put their cans in this one too. They hadn’t, thank God. I filled my cup about three times and sat there drinking. Then I tiptoed around everyone’s mattresses to get back to mine and I sat there saying my prayers because I wasn’t quite ready to go back out into the blazing sun just yet.

Lights coming on at the Arafat camp as the sun set.

After a while, as the minutes crept closer to maghrib prayer time, I finally went outside fearsomely only to find that it was significantly cooler now that a shade had been cast across the camp. I went back to the steep hill I had climbed down on the way back to camp from the mountain and sat on the most rounded rock I could find. I put the pages of prayers I had written down for myself to remember to say while at Arafat in my lap and cupped my hands together to pray, like a beggar pleading with the Only One Who could hear and answer my calls.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: Make a prayer list and carry it around with you so you can always remember to pray for the things most important to you and those you love. One of the Hajj take-aways is to continue doing back home what you already were doing at Hajj.

I sat at a slight angle so that I would be facing towards the Kabah. I saw others standing beneath a barren tree positioned in the same direction saying their prayers.

Then I saw all the tents below our tent. Row upon row of them, holding thousands of pilgrims, all carrying their hands before them to say their prayers.

Other Hajjis squeezing in their last few prayers before the call for maghrib prayer time.

It was like we were this one massive praying force. Praying our hearts out. Pleading to Allah in all the ways we knew how. Begging for His Infinite Mercy. Asking of Him to let us leave this mountain stronger than we were before we came to it. Let us go back to our old lives as renewed believers, as better citizens of our hometowns, as better friends and family members, and most of all as better servants of God.

I knew maghrib prayer time was fast approaching. I tried to not look at the darkness that fell throughout the Arafat campgrounds with despair.  I just focused on making the most of what time I had left. Wasn’t that, after all, the way we were supposed to live life as a whole? Taking advantage of every moment despite knowing death would creep upon us one day?

When the call for the sunset prayer had been sounded, I wrapped up my prayers and stood to go back to our tent. (I wasn’t going in to pray though because the maghrib and isha prayers are supposed to be prayed combined at Muzdalifah, not at Arafat.) After about another hour or so, I was lying on my thin mattress spread across the earth fast asleep. It was the suppressed exhaustion of the entire day finally releasing itself. I didn’t know it then but the short slumber would be much needed for the events that still lay ahead. Hajj was far from over.

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.

Hajj Day 1 – Completed
Purpose: Enter into the state of ihram, make your intention for Hajj, and spend the day in preparation for the journey of Hajj.
Location: Mina camps

When we arrived in the area of Mount Arafat it was about 8:00 in the morning. We still had a few hours until the mission of this day would begin. Before I went to Hajj I thought that on the Day of Arafah people sit outside praying all day long. I found out now that the window of time in which we pray is only from the dhuhr, or midday, prayer until the maghrib, sunset, prayer – roughly four hours.

The Messenger of Allah (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) said: ‘The best supplication is the supplication on the day of Arafat’. [at-Tirmidhi and Malik]

Four hours to pray for your past, your present, and your future. Four hours to pray for your spouse, for your parents, your siblings, your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, your cousins, your friends, and even strangers. Four hours to pray for the state of Muslims in the U.S. and all around the world. Four hours to pray for the countries where people are being oppressed or the Muslim countries which have corrupt government leaders. Four hours to pray for the poor, the sick, the needy, the homeless, the hungry. Four hours to pray for your children who don’t even exist yet.

Four hours may seem like a long time, but it’s not long enough. A part of you wishes the day would go on, the time would go on so you can pray for everything in case you forget something. (I had a cousin who gave me the smart advice that when I go to Arafat I should pray for Allah to accept all my prayers for the rest of my life.) I tried to do my best to avoid a regret like that so for a couple of months leading up to Hajj I emailed and Facebooked as many people as I could and asked them to send me their Hajj du’aas while I compiled my own du’aas for myself and my family and friends. It ended up as a twenty-three page long Microsoft Word document plus some loose pages of prayers which I went through surprisingly quicker than I thought.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: Don’t stay up late the night before Arafat. Get rest, be fresh, eat well. You’ll need all the energy possible to give the Day of Arafat your all.

Four hours, in the end, is just time. Fleeting seconds and minutes just like the rest of our lives. But the difference in these four hours compared to all the rest of the hours in our lives is that these are the few hours you never want to regret.

That’s a not-so-difficult trap to fall in to.

Taking a picture down at the Arafat camp from on top of a hill.

When we go to the area of Arafat, we had a tent designated to us and it was split in half for the brothers and the sisters. The tent was not like the Mina tents, which were large white tarps. These tents were actually a bunch of long sticks used as poles to hold up sheets and blankets which would shield us from the sun. We all threw down our mattresses inside this makeshift tent and went to sleep, or at least tried to. I told the women around me to please wake me up in a couple of hours. It would still be far from dhuhr prayer time but I wanted to get in line to use the bathroom and make wudu.

I woke up at about 9:30 even though I had meant to sleep until 10:00. But it was amazing I got any sleep at all. I sat up in the abaya I had slept in and been wearing since the day before and realized how badly I was sweating in it. I began to curse the blankets that were protecting us from the sun because they were actually blocking out the breeze. One of our group organizers came to the sisters side and asked if he could lift up the blankets partitioning the brothers’ and the sisters’ sides of the tent and 90% of the sisters said yes, as we were suffocating. But there was one group of sisters who suddenly stopped him saying that they didn’t want the partition removed, lest the brothers see them.

Took this picture right when I got to the Arafat camp in the morning. I wanted to take a picture of the hills/mountains around the camp and in the corner you can see the red and blue blankets making up our "tent."

The rest of us fumed at that for a moment. We were hot, thirsty, tired, and the feeling of not being able to breathe inside the tent was just too much for some women. I quickly grew weary though. The women in the tent were getting agitated with one another and this could lead to arguments later or at least backbiting. Both could ruin the Hajj experiences for those women and everyone around them.

The women I had come to befriend during the Hajj trip and I conversed and shared snacks with one another. We were starving and there was no sign of food yet. At least we had the orange coolers filled with ice water and clean cups stacked by them so we could quench our thirst. But there were rumors being whispered around that the water didn’t seem clean and no one knew where the ice was even coming from. One of the Hajj leaders assured the women that he has been to Hajj a few times now and drank this water every time and nothing happened to him; insha’Allah nothing would happen to them either. But they remained skeptical.

Finally I got together with my Bathroom Support Group and we exited the tent. Immediately we felt a cool breeze and we were all so relieved to be out from the blanketed oven. The bathrooms were directly in front of our tent so we stepped right into line and then played the waiting game.

Taking a picture down at the Arafat camp from the road. In the bottom corner you can see a blue building which was the bathroom.

Women cut each other, threw harsh looks at one another, and sometimes even said something in their native tongues in the direction of the woman who had cut them or vice versa. The bathroom lines definitely were a war zone. You could participate in those ill manners and kill your Hajj experience or you could keep away from it and live long enough for another bathroom-line-waiting nightmare.

We each used the restrooms and washed our hands and made wudu pretty much out in the open in front of several men. We did our best to keep our arms covered and such but there wasn’t much else we could do. I did at least tell my husband later to keep away from the women’s bathroom area because they’re all growing very disappointed at how men keep walking by. But what could they do? It was a clear, open path to get from one side of the camp to the other so we couldn’t complain much.

On a positive note, it felt good to make wudu. Feeling cold water run down our skin. I felt like taking a bucket of it and just dumping it over my head. I didn’t need to worry about my clothes being wet, the sun was blazing so brightly I could probably dry off within half an hour. In hindsight, I think about how hot we were that day and how we were at least able to drink cold water or bathe in it. But in Hell, there will be no relief from its unforgiving Fire. May Allah protect us all, ameen.

In Sahih Muslim it was narrated from ‘Aa’ishah (may Allah be pleased with her) that the Prophet (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) said: “There is no day on which Allah frees more people from the Fire than the day of Arafah. He comes close and expresses His pride to the angels, saying, ‘What do these people want?’”

And in another hadith:

“Verily Allah boasts of the people of Arafat before the people of Heaven (angels) saying, ‘Look to my servants who have come to Me disheveled and dusty.’”

By the time we came back into the tent we were hot again. We started taking the water from the cooler in our cups and empty water bottles and pouring it down our shirts or on top of our heads. Some women were only doing that and not even drinking it because they felt it was contaminated.

Then finally, after more swatting flies, dripping sweat, counting seconds, one of the brothers on the men’s side made the call for dhuhr prayer out loud. We waited for him to finish and then I was about to jump on my feet to pray so we could get out there and make some mad du’aa.

But after the call for prayer, there was a sermon for the Day of Arafah. It was given by one of our Hajj leaders. He emphasized the importance of this day and what we were doing here. He warned us to not waste our time with idle talk and to not lie down or else we may fall asleep and miss out on this opportunity that is once in a lifetime. This day was so important and every Muslim around the world was remembering all of us on this day as they fasted on the day of Arafat back in their home countries, preparing for the day of celebration to follow. They were all following our example, our footsteps.

Narrated ‘Umar bin Al-Khattab: Once a Jew said to me, “O the chief of believers! There is a verse in your Holy Book which is read by all of you (Muslims), and had it been revealed to us, we would have taken that day (on which it was revealed as a day of celebration.” ‘Umar bin Al-Khattab asked, “Which is that verse?” The Jew replied, “This day I have perfected your religion For you, completed My favor upon you, And have chosen for you Islam as your religion.” (5:3) ‘Umar replied, “No doubt, we know when and where this verse was revealed to the Prophet. It was Friday and the Prophet was standing at ‘Arafat (i.e. the Day of Hajj)” [Bukhari :: Book 1 :: Volume 2 :: Hadith 43]

He also reminded us saying, “Brothers and sisters, you are not here because of your money, you are not here because of your Ph.D., you are not here because of anything you did. You are only here because Allah invited you.” We needed to remember this and be humble. So many of us at Hajj, especially the young adults who had just started out at their jobs or the newlyweds, were so proud of how they saved every nickel and dime to get here. So many of the elders in our group were doctors and professors, working hard all their lives to get here. None of it mattered. We were all here because God Himself wanted us to be and had He not invited us, even with all the money and abilities in the world, we would not have come.

TIPS N’ TRICKS: Never forget that Hajj is NOT a vacation, it is a pillar of Islam. Never forget you are ONLY at Hajj because Allah invited you. Act as His guest. Bury your arrogance in the dirt and hold tight to your humility. Hajj is not just about the actions you perform but the state of being you choose to remain in for its duration and beyond.

He continued to humble us by reciting several verses of the Qur’an and sayings of Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) about how ready our Lord is to forgive His slaves. It’s a matter of us asking and making the intention that we’ll change our ways. He spoke of how much Mercy our Lord has for us, sending one part of it on this earth and saving the other ninety-nine parts for the Day of Judgment. He spoke of how much love Allah has for us; it is even greater than the love a mother has for her child.

All the stories he told, I had heard of in all the other lectures and sermons I’ve listened to back home in Houston except one that stood out and I listened with newfound curiosity. He spoke of a man who once came to the Prophet (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) and told him he had committed a sin, so what shall he do now? The Prophet (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) answered, “Repent.” The man came to him a second time saying the same thing and the Prophet (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) answered, “Repent.” Then the man came to him a third time saying he had done wrong so what should he do now? The Prophet (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) answered, “Repent.” Each time this is how the Prophet (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) answered the man without even asking what his sin was, seeing into how bad of a sin it was, if it was the same sin that he kept committing or different sins each time. It didn’t matter. The man had sinned and there was a way out of that darkness by riding the rivers of repentance. The man finally asked after the third or fourth time of hearing the Prophet’s (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) answer to repent, “Ya Rasullulah, until how long should I keep repenting for my sins?” The Prophet (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) then responded, “Until you have defeated shaytaan.”

That resonated so deeply within me. It was the whole reason why I came to Hajj. I knew I wouldn’t defeat him right now once and for all but I wanted to become stronger so that when I go back home it would no longer be me working hard, barely keeping my head above the water to tell him, “No, I won’t do what you’re telling me to. I won’t fall into your traps of pleasure. I know Allah has prepared something better for me.” Instead when I came back, it would be shaytaan running miles to catch up to every step I took to my salvation.

The Jabal al-Rahma

When the sermon finished, we prayed dhuhr and ‘asr prayers combined and shortened as we’re supposed to on the Day of Arafat. I then left the tent and climbed up a rocky hill and then up a small mountain and sat there in the dirt to pray. To pray for everyone I knew, everyone I didn’t know, and myself. To pray that we all win this war against shaytaan, that we rise up above him the way across from this mountain I could see another mountain standing tall. The real mountain of Arafat where the Prophet Muhammed (sal Allahu ‘alayhi wasallam) had once stood to pray. There was a monument standing erect there, glistening white in the desert sun. I later learned it was called the Jabal al-Rahma.

We would stand strong as marble one day, as a nation of peace, of submission to a universal God, of success. It was a far off dream but on the Day of Arafat it felt as though anything was possible. I was praying to the God Who was capable of all things, after all.

I looked back down to my own lap where twenty plus pages of prayers sat stapled together. I opened the packet, put my hands together, and began to pray. For me, for you, for everyone. I prayed for at least the three million gathered at this site on that day to go back to their home countries as stronger and better Muslims. One positive change would cause a ripple effect of goodness in our society.

And it would have started from this day, on this mountain.

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.