I was really proud of the post I was typing up. It was a deep and thoughtful cultural analysis of the American misconceptions of the Muslim religion. And then blogspot deleted my draft. That's what I get for trying to be insightful. It was so cathartic that I can't even re-type it. Take my word for it that it would have been good. So instead I'm going to revert back to my old day-by-day detailing of what has been happening this week:
I found a great Spanish jazz bar Friday night (0r rather Lonely Planet found it for me and I highlighted the entry in my "Guide to Spain" book) and decided that Spanish jazz would be worth the pricey admission. The set, however, was entirely American covers. The girls and I were a little disappointed at first but the pianist ended up being one of the greatest instrumentalists I have ever seen live. Dave Brubeck's "Take Five" never sounded so fast, so Latin, and so good.
Before the Carnaval parade yesterday, my friend Rebecca and I found ourselves with a few hours to kill so we headed over to the Islamic Cultural Center located in Madrid's largest mosque. Amalia (the professor of the history of Spanish culture and what my dad claims looks like the Spanish Elaine Benes) recommended we go visit to really appreciate the Muslim influence in Spain. The center is free and all that was required was that the women enter with covered heads.
Upon entering the building, I instantly knew we didn't belong there. Every step I took felt sacrilegious. I had no right as a white American girl to enter a Muslim place of worship just to "see what it was about." Visibly uncomfortable and trepid, Rebecca and I were soon approached by Seif, a recent immigrant from Egypt. In broken Castellano mixed with English and Arabic, he said we looked nervous and that we should sit down with him for awhile. He asked us our names and where we were from and after finding out we were American, he exclaimed: "Ah, you are Taliban, yes?" I turned considerably whiter and stuttered for a moment when Rebecca leaned over and reminded me that Taliban was the plural for "student." Ah. Taliban. Yes, we were Taliban and boy was I relieved.
Seif had fled from Egypt only a few days prior and arrived in Madrid on the 31st of January. I couldn't help but wonder if he knew about the Center de Acogida a Refugiados, if he would end up seeking asylum, and if one day, perhaps, I would be accompanying him around the city to get a social security number and a health card...
He reached into one of his plastic bags (his worldly possessions amounted to a bag of food, a few notebooks, and a passport) and pulled out a twig. Breaking it in half, he explained, "This is for clean, Miswak. 1,500 years from the Prophet Mohammed." Seif carefully groomed the sinews and placing the fibrous section on his teeth, he demonstrated the century-old and method of brushing your teeth [see above photo]. He placed the other half in my hand and said it would last me the entirety of the 3 months I had in Madrid. What do you say to that? "Shukran," I smiled. "De nada," said Seif.
He took us on a walking tour of the center and told us we were free to enter the Mosque. Even though the sign said "all visitor welcome" we saw no women inside and had noticed a "women's entrance" sign around the corner. Erring on the side of caution, we slipped off our shoes and lingered in the doorway for a few minutes, admiring the elaborate interior to the mosque, and decided it was time to head out.
As we shook hands (shaking hands? I'm so used to the two-sided kiss now), Seif reminded us that we were always welcome back. "This is a Muslim place but we forget that we share the same God." I had forgotten. All the tension I had felt walking into the mosque was entirely self-imposed. I had every intention of ostracizing myself from a culture I knew nothing about even before I set foot inside or talked to someone like Seif. And here I thought I was so culturally aware, well-traveled, and open-minded. I still have a lot to learn over here.
PS Carnaval is everything Halloween in the U.S. should be. Why should we only get to wear our costumes for one day??
7 comments:
Seif picked a GREAT day to arrive. =P
That'd be something if he comes to the center you work and and you get to help him around.
Also, still waiting for the punchline...
PS- I think there was a great amount of analysis/Waiteness to this post, but it's dumb the former got deleted...
i really liked this post! its always great to see more Americans taking steps to learn/understand more about Islam and visit mosques and talk to muslims.
is taliban the spanish word for student as well, or you were just writing the arabic? i went to a lecutre once on similarities b/w Arabic and Spanish due to the Andalusian era - really interesting stuff!
if you get the chance, you should check out the Al-Hambra mosque/complex -- its a stunning beautiful place.
Alumnos is Spanish for students. Seif was ended up speaking to us in three languages simultaneously but got his point across surprisingly well. But anything that starts with "Al" in Spanish is obviously arabic-influenced like almuerzo, almendra, alma, etc. (lunch, almond, soul, respectively) I guess alumnos is one of them too :)
We were just talking about going to Grenada and visiting the Al-Hambra the other day. I hear it's absolutely breathtaking and I'm definitely going to try and visit.
Nick: your face is the punchline.
No.
Technical difficulties are quite frustrating while posting. Do you type them in Word first? I find that to be useful and less risky. I am impressed you thought about entering a Mosque. Until now, I have never really considered that as a possibility. Also, Carnival is not big in London. I am a bit bummed about it because I have heard the rest of Europe goes bonkers over it.
You sure look great in that scarf.
I enjoyed your post it was very insitefull. I am glad you risked discomfort to experience a world aand culture few Americans can say they have experienced.
It's a small world and it will not surprise me if your new Muslim friend does come to the center one day. I am sure your paths will cross again.
Your "Taliban" story just gave me flashbacks to my Arabic class freshman year. And made me smile a lot.
This might be my favorite post. The best part about you blogging is that when I read it, I hear your voice narrating it in my head.
Post a Comment