It is a scorching hot December day as I walk through the streets of a city where over three million people have crowded into an area of just ten square miles. Muslims from all over the world are clustered inside Islam’s holiest city, Makkah. With the lack of space, I am barely able to stand up straight. I look to my right and see people from Turkey, Nigeria, China, and Russia. I look to my left and see people from France, India, Brazil, and Iraq. People all around seem to have shed their business attire and their native cultural clothing in exchange for a simple white garment that leaves no room to interpret who is rich and who is poor. Everyone speaks a different language, but there seems to be a universal greeting: Assalam-o-Alaikum, peace be upon you.
t sounds like a dream world. And for the 15,000 American Muslims (including myself) that went for Hajj, or religious pilgrimage, this year, that dream became a reality. Every day, five times a day, Muslims from around the world drop everything to face towards the Kaaba and pray. The Kaaba is a cube-shaped building located inside the city of Makkah, or Mecca as it is known by most. Muslims believe that the holy Kaaba was originally built by the first man, Adam, and was later renovated by Prophet Abraham and his son Ishmael. Muslims also believe that a rock from heaven called the Black Stone is attached to a corner of the Kaaba. It’s believed that this rock was originally pure white, but has blackened through the sins of mankind. When Muslims bow down and humble themselves during prayer, they are not praying to a building, but to its owner, Allah.
Muhammad, the final prophet of the Islamic religion now practiced by approximately 1.61 billion Muslims, was born inside the city of Makkah. Muslims believe that Islam is not a new religion but rather a revival of old Jewish and Christian teachings. Muslims must adhere to five pillars: Faith in the Oneness of God and the final prophet-hood of Muhammad; charity to the needy; establishment of the daily prayers; fasting during the month of Ramadan; and the pilgrimage to Makkah for those who are financially and physically able.
Hajj consists of various forms of worship. On the first day, all the Hajjis (pilgrims) travel to the city of Mina and spend this day in prayer and preparation for the trip. The next day, the pilgrims go to the Mountain of Arafat (where Muslims believe Adam and Eve were reunited); it is here where it is said that any supplication to God will be accepted. After this, Muslims travel to the city of Muzdalifah for the Stoning of the Devil at the walls of Jamarat, where Muslims believe the devil tried to lead astray Prophet Abraham. This is followed by Tawaf az-Ziyarah, in which Muslims circle the Kaaba seven times, signifying the unity of Muslims in worshiping one God. Tawaf al-Wada is the farewell Tawaf in which you circumnavigate the Kaaba a final seven times. It is also recommended, though not required, for Muslims to go visit the Grave of Prophet Muhammad in Medina. Also, all Muslims must wear clothing called “Ihram” during certain times of the pilgrimage. An Ihram consists of two sheets, and is worn so that everyone appears the same.
For me, the journey was one of overcoming obstacles, but it also consisted of some of the most embarrassing moments of my life. Those moments seemed to start right when my plane landed. After I had got off the plane, I noticed my wallet—containing $1,000, my credit cards, and all my identification materials—was missing. Airport security reopened the gate so the flight attendants and the members of my group could help me look, but our efforts were in vain. We finally gave up, and people told me, “Don’t worry, God will provide for you.” I then felt a lump in my jacket, and as I reached for it, I recognized what it was. The security guard slapped me in the back of my head, and we all had a good laugh.
The bus ride to Makkah seemed to dictate what was to come. The trip from Jeddah airport in Saudi Arabia to Makkah usually only takes a few hours, but in traffic—it took seventeen.
When I finally arrived at Makkah, I was in awe. There were millions of people everywhere. The crowd was so dense that the entire city stood shoulder to shoulder. Before I arrived in the city I put on my Ihram, which felt like wearing a two-piece towel. Nothing is worn under the Ihram, to keep the Ihram clothing as simple as possible.
As I nervously walked towards Makkah’s crowded central square, I wondered how I would feel when I finally saw the building I had been praying towards five times a day, every day for my entire life. I had my head down as I walked, and when I gazed up my eyes unexpectedly focused on an image too powerful to put into words. I could have stared at it all day, and woken up the next morning and done the same. Cries of joy could be heard as people whose faces were filled with poverty looked upon the holiest building in Islam. Some of these people had spent their whole lives working just so they could make the journey. I felt guilty that Hajj was given to me through a blessed life of wealth, while others worked for pennies a day and saved up all their lives for this.
I went on my trip with two men, Sheik Ibraheim, a local Imam (mosque leader) from Buffalo, and Tamer Osman, a Buffalo middle school teacher, both of whom had gone before. I tried my best not to lose them in the thick traffic of people, but at one point it became too crowded, and I did. I first thought, it’s no problem, I’m an expert at directions and I’ll easily find my way out. Three hours later, I found myself lost amidst an ocean of three million people in a strange and foreign land, and to top things off, I had misplaced my shoes and was walking barefoot.
As I pried my way through the crowd, I felt a welcome gust of wind hit my body, unusual considering the sweltering temperature. All of a sudden, I heard people start yelling in all different languages and pointing at me. I looked down and I found that my bottom Ihram had fallen off and I had just exposed myself to thousands of people in Islam’s most holy city. To top it all off, I tripped to the ground and landed in a pile of mud.
Muddy and pant-less, I went from hotel to hotel, begging them to let me use their bathroom so I could put my Ihram back on. I kept getting denied at every hotel I stopped at until finally one kind soul had mercy on me. Afterwards, I thought about what God’s purpose could have been in putting me through this traumatizing experience, and it hit me—all my life I have seen people beg, just as I did that day, and very seldom have I ever truly lent a helping hand. Instead, I chose the path of the hotel mangers and ignored them. Something inside of me looked down upon those people, but through my experience I felt as though God was saying to me that, if he wants, he can take away all his blessings and put me through that situation. I was a muddy, half naked, shoeless man, lost, and halfway across the world. It doesn’t get much worse than that.
I finally found my way back to the hotel and I began to get more acquainted with the people from my group. I found out that 98 percent of the people I was with were from Pakistan. Being Palestinian, I figured this should be an excellent opportunity to learn about a foreign culture. What I found out was that Pakistani food is too spicy for my taste. Everyone seemed to be piling his or her food with hot peppers. I was forced to subsist on bananas, a much better option than burning my mouth.
The greatest act of worship one can do while in Mecca is to circle the Kaaba. A massive crowd was constantly moving in unity around the holy building. While I was there, I would wake up everyday at two o’clock in the morning, hoping that it wouldn’t be crowded, but even then, it was as busy as ever. It seemed like no one slept while they were there, and giant stadium-style lighting made it possible for people to be near the Kaaba at all hours of the night.
While close to the Kaaba, some people would push their way in, causing discomfort and frustration for others. I always wanted to say something when people pushed, but I had to restrain myself, a lack of patience inside such a holy place seemed out of line.
Adel Sarfraz, a UB medical student who has completed several pilgrimages, told me, “during Hajj there were so many people bunched in the city, that it felt just like a water current. You can easily get lost there, I have many times been lost for three or four hours at a time.” All this was despite the fact that Sarfraz’s hotel was a mere five-minute walk from the Kaaba. With so many people bunched in, what would usually be a ten-minute walk turned into a two-hour journey.
Because of overwhelming, claustrophobia-inducing crowds, restraint and patience during Hajj sometimes runs out. Before leaving, my mother warned me about the deaths that occur during Hajj as a result of stampedes. In 2006, 362 people were crushed during the Stoning of the Devil, according to CNN. This year, it seemed as though the Saudi Arabian Government took extra precaution by adding more room around various problem areas throughout the city.
The lack of news media was a great shock to me. I didn’t see a single television set while I was there. I couldn’t even find a newspaper stand. I quickly realized that for the next twenty days I was completely disconnected form the outside world. Amazingly, I found that I rather preferred life without the media. In America the only thing I would see in the news was hate, violence, and Britney Spears’ new drug problem.
Seeing people getting along whose countries are usually at war, like Indians and Pakistanis, was surprising. With all the violence and hatred in the world, I assumed that there would be violence and bloodshed. Can a man from Sudan share the same cup as a man from the Ukraine?
Osman, an Egyptian American middle school teacher, went with me to Hajj this year, and says he experienced many things during his trip—none of which involved violence. “I have never seen anything in my life in which people from every corner of the Earth are doing the same thing at the same time in a peaceful manner except during Hajj.” When asked about the unavoidable language barriers, he replied that there are two ways to look at a situation: one is with optimism the other, with pessimism. “I didn’t see any difficulties through language barriers; I was able to achieve all the things I needed to do in a peaceful manner, even if at times communication was limited or none.” He continued, “There was also the universal language of Islam which is good character.” He gave an example of a day during Hajj in which he was thirsty and man from Nigeria had noticed, and offered him his cup of water. It is these small gestures that bring people closer together during the pilgrimage.
Zaheir Lewis, an African American ECC undergrad student, shared a different experience during Hajj. Zaheir talked about his struggles with the language barriers and his eye opening experience of the world. “I gave a man from a different country some expensive perfume that I had bought to use, and to my surprise, he poured the whole bottle on his body, thanked me in his native tongue, and then walked away.”
Hassan Shibly, a UB graduate student, described the moment that stood out most to him, involving a culturally confused man from India. “Apparently, he had never seen an escalator before because he kept on trying to go down one that was going up.” He continued saying that he tried to communicate to the man, trying to explain what the machine was. “He was so dedicated to getting down that escalator he wouldn’t listen to me.”
According to the Saudi Press Agency, during the ‘50s the number of pilgrims who traveled to Mecca was less than 100,000. During the ‘60s and ‘70s that number rose to 645,000. Now, over 2.5 million people representing over 160 countries go to Hajj every year. The Saudi government attempts to limit the number of people who are allowed in every year. If there were no restrictions, it is estimated that over ten million people would make the pilgrimage every year. In some countries, like Palestine, there is a lottery to see who gets to go every year.
Osman attributes the level of equality to a quote that Muhammad gave during his last Hajj sermon. “All mankind is from Adam and Eve, a white has no superiority over a black nor a black has any superiority over white except by piety and good action. Learn that every Muslim is a brother to every Muslim.”
Sarfraz, Lewis, and Osman all agree that Hajj exposed them to devastating poverty, which is sometimes hidden in the United States. They agreed that one will see people crippled in various ways—old people, weak people, children carrying their disabled parents and parents carrying their young children.
“People everywhere were begging for money, food, clothing, anything that would get them through the day” says Lewis. “There were armless children everywhere begging on the streets for water.”
Sarfraz remembers a poor Arab man who was selling teeth cleaners on the street. “He would sleep on the streets and when he awoke he would continue trying to sell teeth cleaners,” Sarfraz said. “One day, I slipped some money into his sleeves while he slept, and when he awoke, someone wanted to buy some teeth cleaners from him. To his dismay he had no change, and then to his surprise the money fell out of his sleeve.”
The number of children that were living in poverty, particularly the children of Africa, particularly struck me. I saw more African children without arms than with arms. I didn’t even have to look at their bodies; their faces told devastating stories. Little boys and girls, only five and six years old, looked as though they went through more suffering in a day than we have gone through in our lifetime.
Despite the lack of wealth, Lewis says that people seemed to be more open minded and more content in Makkah. Osman points to Bangladesh, which is one of the poorest countries in the world, yet has one of the world’s lowest suicide rates. “I’ve learned that money doesn’t always translate to happiness,” says Osman.
On my last day in Makkah, I went to the top of the building surrounding the holy Kaaba. I gazed below me, as all the people were making their way around the Kaaba. Everyone seemed to have forgotten their worries, and it didn’t matter that they were from different races, tribes, nationalities, and cultures. Kings of various countries had abandoned the comfort of their castles in exchange for the comfort of God’s home. It was then that I realized how small we truly are. If Bill Gates had been in that crowd below me, I wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. If Donald Trump was in that crowd, and tripped, his money would have done him no good—he would need the kindness of another man to help him back up. I learned two important things during Hajj. First of all, if I see someone in need, I have to lend a helping hand because that may very well be me some day. Secondly, the next time I go to Makkah—I have to bring a stronger belt!
