Travelogue of a traditional Muslim across modern America
PART-I
As an average middle-class educated Indian and a practicing Muslim, living far away from the United States of America, my perception of the Americans, especially about the everyday lives of minority groups there, was pretty obscure till I got an opportunity to observe them first-hand. If one were to believe all the media reports and some of the horror stories about hate crimes particularly against Muslims in America, I would have been reluctant to visit the place because of the inherent fear. Brushing aside the negative thoughts, I decided to go there and then form an opinion of my own. Last summer, I traveled across the nation – meeting different people, observing their varied culture and enjoying the American weather. After my trip, I realized that what we often see in internet and newspapers does not always give us a correct picture. I had been horrified by reading news many times in the past that Muslim women wearing hijab are openly targeted by anti-Islamic groups in America, sometimes leading to serious consequences. Similar stories of racial slur and violent attacks against minorities, for no fault of theirs were abound in the media. There were incidents of Muslim men, or even those resembling Muslims or Arabs, being thrashed brutally for no reason and even killed on streets. Such negative reportskeep appearing in the media.These are disturbing incidents which leave a very deep scar in the psyche in the human mind, especially if one belongs to the beleaguered community. Later, after my visit to US, I realized that, though it does exist at some level, but the situation is perhaps not as alarming on the ground as it is perceived after reading the media reports. The average American is perhaps as friendly as any other person on the planet, sometimes even more. My American friends, some of whom I met for the first time, were more than willing to show respect to my religious sentiments. When I told them that I do not drink alcohol, do not eat pork and have to pray five times a day, they understood and accepted it. Some were more curious yet cooperative and helpful in varied measures.
I first touched down at the sprawling and glitzy John F. Kennedy airport in New York from where I flew to California. Incidentally, the trip did not really begin on the right note as I missed my connecting flight to San Francisco due to the delay on account of bad weather. The Emirates’ flight that I had boarded from Dubai reached NY almost on time but there was a heavy shower and thunderstorm that night, so the air traffic was affected. As our plane approached the JFK airport in New York, my heartbeats grew faster and I kept my eyes glued to the window to take view of the airport and the heavy downpour. It was around 9:30 PM local time and I had lost all hopes of catching the flight to SF. Since there were many other flights which were delayed because of the bad weather, so our plane had to keep waiting on the tarmac till one of the bays was free. Passengers inside the plane were getting restless and there was a near commotion with almost everyone standing up at their seat filing up the aisle, some trying to open the overhead cabins to take out their hand carry luggage while the captain kept updating us on the situation outside and made appeals to remain calm. Finally, after almost a two hours wait, which seemed endless, we were allowed to de-board the plane and I stepped on the American soil for the first time.After the immigration formalities, I decided to spend time at the airport itself as the next flight to SF was after a few hours and I had nothing else to do at that time. Inside the JFK airport, I tugged along my stroller and moved from one end to the other as a curious traveler. On the first floor, I found a section which was marked as prayer area. There was a mosque with ample prayer rugs and religious books. I went inside to say a small prayer thanking the Almighty for my safe journey. Before bowing down to say the prayers, Muslims are supposed to perform wudu (ablutions). I looked around but could find any place for washing my hands, face and feet as a part of ablutionary rituals. I asked a gentleman who was standing there near the mosque if he knew any place where I could perform wudu. He guided me to the washroom at the airport. I looked at him hesitantly and he understood my dilemma. He smiled and said, “Don’t worry man,here everyone knows it and people do not mind if you use the wash basin for washing your feet”.
From there onward, my journey across the America began – taking me through east coast to west coast and to the beautiful beaches of Florida before finally reaching the once flourishing automotive city, Detroit in Michigan. For me, the trip,apart from a couple of business meetings and conference,had a special meaning and a purpose – to understand not only the American culture but also to study the effects of changing attitude towards the minorities, particularly Muslims in their society. There had been several negative instances in America which were reported in the worldwide media and received widespread attention globally in the past few years, especially in the aftermath of the unfortunate event of 9/11. Rising hate crimes against Muslims, particularly Arabs and a heightened sense of Islamophobia among the citizens within the American society, was something which disturbed common Muslims like me. I wanted to explore further and look at the facts first-hand. From the childhood, what I had learnt about my faith, particularly from my parents and religious teachers who used to teach Quran, that Islam never encourages any form of violence, except in self-defense. Now a new version of religious frenzy which got presented to the world by the jihadist ideology was something strange and contrary to Islamic fundamentals, even for most of the Muslims themselves.Obviously, for other people this warped idea of the religious frenzy from the handful of misguided followers of a religion which was supposed to be the harbinger of peace, was indeed indigestible. It was a difficult task for them to segregate the righteous from the wrong ones, hence the whole community suffered because of the wrongdoings of a few. So, my purpose was to talk to people in the US who were willing to share their feelings on such delicate issues. Not only that, I yearned to understand the American Muslim psyche from close quarters. For that, I wanted to visit the mosques and Islamic centers around the country, meet fellow Muslims and exchange views.I believe that at a personal level, a clear understanding of the social dynamics would help me in forging a feasible solution towards peaceful co-existence on our beautiful planet.
The idea of peace-building was so deeply entrenched in my mind that as a young student, I had dreams of becoming a peace-activist and joining the United Nations. This quest for finding the right perspective led me to several fruitful interactions with the UN officials and fellow peace activists. In 1999, I attended the Hague Appeal for Peace and addressed the world media from the hallowed precincts of the Peace Palace. I even got an opportunity to meet the then Secretary General of the UN, H.E. Kofi Annan at the event. Though later in my career, I somehow took up an entirely different profession in the corporate world but deep inside my heart that feeling remained to work for peace building. When I left my corporate job and started my own business, I had slightly more freedom to travel and move around. In between, I took up a very interesting project at the prestigious Aligarh Muslim University in India. I became a consultant for launching a unique course, Bridge Course for the Madrasa graduates in India. The project which is supported by the Ministry of Minority Affairs, Government of India, involved developing new curricula which had to include some basic mathematics, introduction to modern science, social sciences and English for young maulanas. Apparently, it seems like a usual activity of any school but the thing which makes it stand out from the ordinary is that the course was being designed for young students who had just graduated from Islamic seminaries, popularly known as madrasas. They were sort of raw as far as modern education was concerned and required special training for bringing themselves upto the Senior Secondary School level within a short span of one year. The course was actually designed to facilitate quick and effective learning by use of modern pedagogical tools including audio-visuals. The bigger challenge was to bring about a positive change in the attitudes of the young impressionable minds.
At the city of San Francisco, my first interaction was addressing an alumni meet where I spoke about the Bridge Course project. The meeting was organized by the Federation of Aligarh Alumni Association (FAAA). There I met several people, mostly Muslim professionals who were quite successful in their respective careers. They included scientists, doctors, lawyers, engineers and teachers among others – all of them working in the US.
Next day, I left for Los Angeles and then to Orange County where I went to visit the Islamic Center. I planned to meet Dr. Muzammil Siddiqui, a well-known Islamic scholar who held the several prominent posts in addition to his duties as the imam of the mosque there. According to his impressive profile, Dr. Siddiqi worked with many Islamic organizations in Switzerland, England and the United States. He was Chairman of the Religious Affairs Committee of the Muslim Students Association in US and Canada. Dr. Siddiqi also served as Director of the Islamic Center of Washington, D.C. He served two terms (1997-2001) as President of the Islamic Society of North America with Headquarters in Indiana. Since 1981, he is serving as the Director of the Islamic Society of Orange County in Garden Grove, California. He also served as the Chairman of the Shura Council of Southern California, an organization representing the Islamic centers, masajid and organizations in Southern California. He is the Chairman of the Fiqh (Islamic Law) Council of North America. He is a founding member of the Council of Mosques in US and Canada. But as luck would have it, he was not there at the center that day but I got a chance to meet a few other people over there. In Florida, I had booked a room through Airbnb and incidentally the owner happened to be a young Muslim man of Turkish origin running his own hotel-cum-restaurant near the Daytona Beach. Though in my interaction with him, I didn’t find it appropriate to bring up anything of religious context, yet it gave me an idea that afterall the things were not so bad for Muslims in America as the media sometimes portrays.
Walking down the Riverside Street of Savannah in South Carolina was nothing short of a dream. It was so enchanting to go around the historic town that I lost count of the time. The place had a unique old world charm, yet everything seemed so perfect in sync with the modern times. The streets were clean, the traffic was smooth and the shops were brightly lit up. The buildings and the environment around bore a serene ecstasy, everything had an endearing antique look which was so charming. The small town, down here towards the South and East coast of US, is so different from the big cities where I went earlier – New York, San Francisco and Los Angeles. The visit to Savanah was memorable because of my gracious hosts – Tim and Ellen, a lovely couple who have a flourishing business of selling antique decorative items. They were so friendly and spent hours with me explaining the history of the town and showing me the best of the places around. Being practicing Christians, they shared with me stories about their activities of the local church. Never once during my interaction with them, did I sense any animosity or hatred towards Muslims or any other religion. They truly represented the average American to me.
PART – II
When I returned back to New York, I went around the famed Times Square and Broadway area which was bustling with activity. That day being Friday, I decided to say my afternoon prayers at a mosque near Times Square. I googled up the location and reached the place just around the lunch time. On my way to the mosque, I could see several street vendors with food carts selling Halaal stuffs. The small mosque was overcrowded and I saw people from different walks of life coming to pray. It gave me a certain sense of belongingness and peace within me.The thing which I found a bit odd at the mosque was the manner in which charities were sought from the devotees. Somehow the tone of people collecting charity at the mosque bordered between request and ransom. Nevertheless it was not really as intimidating as it seemed initially. I finished my prayers, collected my belongings and moved out after hastily handing over a few dollars which were in my pocket. In the evening, I took a Greyhound bus to Philadelphia where a cousin of mine lived with his family. They shifted from India and settled in US a few years back. I spent the whole day with them and had long chat on wide ranging issues as it was a weekend. During our discussions, I noticed a distinct change in my cousin’s outlook towards religion and spirituality. While he was in India, I had never seen this side of his persona. Now comfortably settled in US, he appeared a different person – less aggressive and perhaps seeking spiritual solace. Maybe it has more to do with age and maturity than with the geographical shifting. But I can say with confidence that after he moved to US, he had definitely become more religious, in a positive sense, than ever before.
Incidentally, later in the evening, when I boarded another Greyhound bus for Detroit from Philadelphia, the gentleman sitting beside me happened to be a Bangladeshi Muslim who had moved to US around eight years back in search of greener pastures. He had setup a small business in New York to earn his livelihood. As the bus moved, we started talking to each other after exchanging the customary greetings and he shared the story of his struggle in the initial days. All I could gather from his story was a sense of positivity and hope. I reached Detroit next morning and went to see my sister’s family in Rochester Hills. I had planned to spend some time with them, especially with my two cute nieces who had barely seen their uncle ever since they were born in America. They had visited India just once and so it was a small but wonderful family reunion.
At my sister’s place, I relished the homely comfort and resigned to bed to get rid of my travel weariness. I woke up refreshed and ready to explore further. The beautiful and peaceful county is situated at the outskirts of Detroit in Michigan. The place has a sizeable Muslim community and boasts of a sprawling Islamic Center headed by an Egyptian imam. My brother-in-law, Zaki introduced me to the learned imam who had studied at the prestigious Islamic seminary, Al-Azhar University in Cairo. Thereafter, his family migrated to US and he himself decided to pursue a PhD from Oxford University in UK. Talking about the conditions of Muslims in the US and around the world, we shared mutual concern about the unpardonable acts of violence in the name of religion as well as the atrocities inflicted on the common people thereafter. We agreed and understood that Islam, in true sense, never promotes violence, discord and disharmony. It calls for peace, unity and brotherhood. On an extended weekend, Zaki and myself drove to Ohio to meet another Muslim family in Columbus. They had migrated from Pakistan and I knew them through a mutual contact in India. We reached their home in the evening and they welcomed us with open arms. I called up another friend of mine, Danish Mahmud who lived in Columbus and hailed from my hometown, Aligarh. He immediately came to meet us and we talked about almost everything over a cup of tea. While we were driving to Columbus from Rochester Hills, on the way, we noticed a huge structure which looked like a mosque. When I searched the Google Map, it indeed showed up as a mosque and Islamic Center. We decided to go there and say a little prayer. We parked our car and walked around the building trying to find the entrance. To our surprise, all the doors were locked and nobody was around whom we could ask for directions. In the corner, there was a small entrance where we saw a couple of cars parked. We approached the gate and gently knocked on the door. A middle-aged lady wearing a scarf came out and when we told her that we wanted to go inside the mosque to pray, her eyes turned sad. In a soft voice, she said that the mosque has been locked since the last three years after an anti-Islamic group threatened to blow it up and created a ruckus over there. We left from there immediately and drove away in our car. During my entire trip, it was the first and only incident that echoed media’s portrayal of hate crimes against Muslims in the US. I felt sad as I left the place and as we moved down the road, I turned my head to take one more glimpse of the magnificent dome and minarets of the deserted building. At the same time, I said a prayer deep inside my heart asking the Almighty to give us the strength to counter the evil with our good deeds. Let the peace prevail.
Our next destination was a place in Indiana which was around three hour drive from Columbus. We drove down the long roads and I was strangely fascinated by the huge trucks that plied on the highways. The trucks looked monstrous in size yet beautiful in design. Nothing of that sort I had seen in India. Anyway, we reached Zionsville in Indiana where we were to meet Steve and her lovely wife, Tiffany. We carried a packet of delicious sweets that we had bought for them from a popular Arab store in Detroit. They were naturally elated and after the meeting took us to a restaurant nearby which was owned by them. After an early lunch, we took leave and moved ahead. It was a Friday afternoon and both Zaki and myself wanted to stop for our Friday prayers. Luckily we found a mosque in a downtown locality. It looked unusually crowded on that hot summer day. When we entered the building, we saw a sizeable gathering of African-Americans inside. After the Friday sermons and prayers, the imam announced that they had a special guest at the mosque that day. The Grand Mufti (similar to Archbishop) of Senegal was there to deliver a special address to the gathering of faithful. When he finished his address, everyone wanted to shake hands with the grand old man and seek his blessings. So did we, before we left for the journey back home.
Overall, my perception of the American society, in general, changed quite a bit after this trip. Someday, I would love to take my children there to make them understand the meaning of coexistence within a diverse culture in a practical sense. I would like my kids to become good peace loving citizens of the world, ready to embrace differences in a positive sense. They should be able to differentiate the good from bad. More importantly, our kids must learn to value the human relationships in a broader sense after shedding the baggage of a narrower perspective. It is good for their future and the future of our world.
Glossary of terms:
hijab : a traditional Muslim scarf / headgear worn by Muslim women
wudu : ablution or washing of hands, face and feet before prayers
jihadist : a term commonly used to describe Islamist hardliners or groups
maulana : religious scholar well versed in Islamic teachings
madrasa : a traditional Islamic school
shura : consultative body of community elders
fiqh : Islamic jurisprudence
halaal : anything that is permissible for Muslims, particularly food
imam : one who leads the prayers in a mosque or gathering
Grand Mufti : respected religious leader of a place or region, somewhat similar to Archbishop
