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Volume 72, Issue 81, Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Life & Arts

A holy Sight

A UH student was able to take the a trip of a lifetime and see one of the holy sights of Islam. Though it wasn't an easy trip, her pilgrimage was filled with spiritual meaning she will never forget. 

by MUBARAKA SAIFEE 
The Daily Cougar

It was a spiritually and physically trying journey. From the four-day plane trip to Saudi Arabia to the actual performance of the rituals of Haj, the pilgrimage Muslims hope to complete at least once in their lifetimes, nothing was easy, but it was all well worth it.

I hadn't planned on going to Mecca this year. It was a last-minute decision, and I couldn't believe I was actually going to the center of the Muslim universe: the black-enrobed, cubic structure known at the Ka'aba, toward which I prayed five times each day of my mature life along with millions of other Muslims all over the world. I was worried that it was too late to get a visa, as the Haj season was rapidly approaching. This year Mecca was expecting close to 3 million pilgrims.

When I did get the visa, my travel agent had a hard time booking tickets since planes were already full. I finally got my ticket and began my journey, only to learn in Dubai that my reservation, along with those of others in my group, had been cancelled. For the next 12 hours we argued and pleaded with various airline agents to allow us to continue our journey. At long last, they sat us on a plane to Jiddah, Saudi Arabia.

Our first destination was the city of Medina, where the tomb of the prophet Muhammad is located. I was full of anticipation as I approached the green dome and was enveloped with deep reverence as I entered the doorway to the mosque.

In my mind's eye, the walls and buildings melted away and I saw the little town that had been home to Muhammad and his family. The marbled flooring turned into the dusty streets where he must have walked, and I could see the marketplaces that must have stood where the souvenir shops are now.

We spent three days in Medina, then donned our white Haj apparel and boarded the so-called luxury bus that was to take us to our final destination: Mecca. It was a long, bumpy trip and the vehicle was cramped, yet an air of jubilation and excitement permeated the bus as everyone looked forward to entering the holy grounds referred to as the Haram.

The modern infrastructure and tall buildings impressed me as we entered the city. It seemed like any other modern city, yet when I viewed the rugged mountains surrounding us, I would go back again a thousand years and think that these are the very mountains Muhammad and his early followers traveled upon by camel and by foot for days, trying to spread a new message to a skeptical audience.

We came to our hotel and freshened up in our rooms, then left immediately to go see the Ka'aba. My husband and I practically flew down the steep streets, hand in hand. He kept looking at me, and when his friend asked him to look ahead and watch where he was going, he said, "I want to see the expression on her face when she sees the Ka'aba."

Then I saw it: a glimpse of black, surrounded by a rotating sea of white.

I held my breath.

There it was, the sight I had longed to see as long as I could remember. "Is this for real?" I asked myself. 

My husband and I cut through the circling crowd and got into the inner ring, and I could not believe I was so close to this great and holy building.

For the next few days, we went through all the strenuous rituals of Haj, circling the Ka'aba, drinking from the well of ZamZam, trekking in between the two hills of Safa and Marwa. We spent a few nights in white tents in Mina, almost like a camping trip, enjoying each other's company. Twice, I was able to kiss the Black Stone, which was not easy. My husband bravely fended off other eager Muslims as I was fought my way into the crowd, feeling lucky and victorious to accomplish such a feat. 

Once, it so happened that I had been standing very close to the wall of the Ka'aba when the Azan sounded, announcing that it was prayer time. I ended up praying directly in front of the Ka'aba, not a single person in between myself and the its wall.

We went on a tour of the various historic sites in the city, including the place where Muhammad received his first revelation. I could hear the words of the Quran echoing in the mountains: "Iqra bisme rabbikallazi khalaq." "Pray in the name of the Lord who has created."

Before I knew it, the days of Haj were over and it was time to for me to go back home. With tears in my eyes, I bade farewell to the holy place, wondering when I would ever be able to return. 

As I sat next to my husband on the plane, bruised, legs hurting so badly I thought they would fall off, I realized that, without a doubt, these had been the most wonderful days of my life.
 

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