Adonis Diaries

Posts Tagged ‘Kaaba in Mecca

“A mystic trip”: El Haj, by Ilija Trojanow

Going on haj (pilgrimage) in the Moslem world is not necessarily going to Mecca (in Saudi Arabia) as one of the obligations to be satisfied once in your lifetime.  Most probably, as you started to earn a decent living to undertake this hazardous and expensive trip, you might contemplate this Haj.

The poor Moslems go to local pilgrim places where locally or regionally recognized “saints” are buried.  The pilgrims visit these local places to demand miracles for ailments or improving the livelihood of a family or bringing suitable marriage partners, or even punishing a rival or a wrong-doer.

For example, the city of Mashhad in Iran attracts over 10 million shias a year, while only two million Moslems converge to the Kaaba in Mecca.  Egypt, Syria, Iraq, and Morocco have many “holy” sites.

The early sufi Moslems used to spend their life touring every pilgrimage site in the Moslem world.  For example, Ibn Al Arabi walked from Cordoba (Spain) to Konya (Turkey) and visited Sevilla, Fez (Morocco), Tlemcen (Algeria), Tunisia, Cairo, Jerusalem, Mecca, Medina (the first Moslem city-state), Baghdad, Mosul, Damascus.  He was executed in a most barbaric manner as a heretic because he dared invoke Allah as an intimate friend.

Ilija Trojanow recount his haj to mecca in 2008, the year late king Fahd had distributed over 1,750,000 Korans translated in 19 languages.  The translated Wahhabi versions added many details on how women should be dressed and how they should be controlled and assuaged.

Ilija Trojanow landed at the airport of Jedda in a charter of pilgrims arriving from India.  Tents of the various nations were awaiting the passengers hajis.  Ilija wrote: “We, arriving from India, were dispatched to the Pakistanis tent.  We marched as separate groups as in Olympic games, every nation walking behind its national flag and the back of our vests carrying the names of our provinces and villages for administrative facilitation.”

“We had to wait 7 hours under the tents drinking tea with condensed milk in plastic cups.  All passports were collected to be returned on our departure day from Jedda.  The whereabouts of the journeys of each passport during the 13 days of pilgrimage is complex and many arrived to Jedda and finding out that their passports has been misplaced and lost.

On the way to Mecca, we reached a giant arc of 40 tons representing a Koran opened on a pulpit.  Beyond this arc, everyone must be wearing his “ihram” (a two-piece white cloth:  one piece to wrap around the loins and the other to covering the left shoulder).

It took us 7 hours to arrive to Mecca because of the road controls; in ancient periods, a robust donkey used to make the distance in less than 7 hours.

Our hotel was at walking distance of the Haram Al Sherif or the Grand Mosque.  Grand Mosque has 99 entrance (corresponding to the 99 qualifications or qualities of Allah) and it encircle the Kaaba so that everyone can be facing the Kaaba; it has a surface of 130,000 square-meter.  My guide told me: “At your first look of the Kaaba your wish will be exhausted.  No pilgrim ever forgot the first sight of the Al Kaaba.”

You access to Kaaba by a tunnel and then you suddenly see this black cube of black marble shrouded in a black veil embroidered with gold strings.  The pilgrim is supposed to walk quickly, chest up and out, for the first three of the 7 tours or “tawaf” around the Kaaba, but it is impossible with this crowd.  At the end of each tour, the pilgrim is to stop, raise his palms toward the sky in order to receiving the benediction and then shout “Bissmillah, Allahu akbar” and then kiss his own hands.

At the call for prayer, a miracle happens:  a silence roamed the place, and concentric files of pilgrims are directed to the Kaaba; mats are shared with anyone close by, joining in the mass player.

The second day, I descended the staircase to Zamzam water well.  The well is now enclosed in a glass where a complex pumping mechanism extract the sacred water.  This water is currently free of charge.  All pilgrims carry on their way back home 10 litres of this water.  More often than not, the planes forget to load the Jeri-cans.

I all my pilgrimage stay, I never witnessed anyone read the Koran or a religious book.  Brochures containing requisite prayers and their translations are most in demand.

The touring of Kaaba and drinking from Zamzam is called the “little haj”. The grand  haj is supposed to start when we have to head toward the desert for purification, sacrifice, and dilapidating satan.   We are now on the eighth day and we are boarding a bus to Mina.  White tents by the thousands have invaded the plain and the hillsides.  The Mosque Khaif serves this town.

Day nine is for witnessing something.  Thousands of Indians and Pakistanis are wearing orange outfits for cleaning the camp ground and arranged in military battalions.

It took us 2 hours to cross 15 km to Mount Arafat.  Trucks followed buses and walkers distributing can juices, water, and oranges.  During Ibn Batouta time in the 14th century, camels charged with water and medicines accompanied the pilgrims.  Technically, the haj is completed and pilgrims can congratulate one another “Haji moubarak.. haji mabrouk”.  Sins were forgiven and you can be called a haji.

The 10th day is for the sacrifice, and we are heading to the town Muzdalifa by Mina.  Many are upset by the disorganization in that town and decide to walk back to their Mina tent.  In that day, half a million cows, sheep, and camels are slaughtered for distribution.  Since pilgrims are technically well-off, they cough up $100 so that meat will be shipped to designated needy countries.

The 11th day is for the great dilapidation of satan.  Pilgrims converge to throw stones at 3 columns representing satan.  Many are trampled to death:  pilgrims are angry at satan and people are punished:  Weeks of peaceful state of mind are ruined in this day where satan always win.

The 12th day of haj is for the rain.  We go back to Mecca and more of satan’s dilapidation horrors are underway.

The 13th day is the last official haj and pilgrims tour the Kaaba.  Many pilgrims visit Medina, the first Islam city-state and they have to suffer more control and harassment just to enter Medina.

During the haj, the pilgrim live an experience of strict rigor not feasible in everyday turmoil. A hadith recommends to paying the worker before his sweat is dried, but in Saudi Arabia thousands of house maids and immigrants are denied being paid, even after 18 months of work:  the immigrant has to stay in order to be paid, otherwise his due rights are cancelled.

Note:  Ilija Trojanow is born in Sofia (Bulgaria) and immigrated to Germany and was raised in Kenya.  He travels with a German passport and participated in many pilgrimage sites such as in India, Cashmere, Africa, Cairo, and pushed forward to the Antarctic.

He writes about his experiences; “A mystic trip” was translated from German to French and talks about the pilgrimage to Al Kaaba (Mecca) and the Maya Kumbh Mela in India.

“Initiate your stuttering boy to kiss with his tongue and speak with his tail.” (September 6, 2009)

 

            The man has been in coma in his house for three week from a bullet in the neck.  It is a miracle that he is still alive.  The wife removed the feeding tube off his mouth: she hoped that the demon of death Israel would pay him a visit by dawn.  The man is still alive and the wife is glad; she realized that her husband is now her magic stone: she can recount to him all her deepest and darkest secrets without worrying of any consequences.

            “Your brothers are coward.  They wished that you fall dead on the war front so that they marry me in good conscious according to customs.  When the battle raged in our neighborhood your brothers refrained to take me and your two daughters to safety as long as you were alive.” The wife was confiding to her husband in coma.

            “Your father was proud of his sons when you were fighting to liberate Afghanistan from the Soviet occupiers. He began hating your bunch when you resumed the fight for power.”

            “My dad gave away my eldest sister of 12 to a man of forty after he lost his bet in quail fights. I let his prized quail out of the cage when he prayed in the mosque on Friday morning before quail fights. I let the cat eat the quail and watch the cat eat it all.  My father beat every member in the family, including my mother.  I told him that what happened to the quail was the proper punishment.  My father understood what I meant and that I was the culprit.  My mother and sisters had no idea of what I was saying and thought that my punishment was due to my effrontery for retorting to dad.  My father incarcerated me in a dark room in the basement for two days; he let a hungry cat inside to nibble at me; there were so many rats inside that we became friends.”

            “Your dad asked for me alone when he was dying. He said that he saw the angel Gabriel; that he finally realized that the magic stone of patience was the Kaaba in Mecca; once this black stone inside the Kaaba disintegrates from the millions of complaints and confessions of the pilgrims then it would be the Day of Judgment”

            “Three militia fighters entered my house.  The leader asked what I do. I said that I sell my body to survive. He got very angry and said “Don’t you feel ashamed saying it?” I replied “Do you mean whether I am ashamed of admitting it or practicing it?” The fighter said “They will lapidate you to death if you admit it; aren’t you afraid?” 

            The leading man recited a verse of the Koran and said “Allah, Al-Rahman! Al Mueen! In the name of Allah protect me from Satan”.  The fighters left this impure house.  “They would have raped me if I were a “correct and proper” girl.  I know these types of men.  Fucking a whore is no prize for them; it is merely a transaction.  Raping a virgin girl is like raping her honor and they go for defaming people’s honor. Yes, my husband, my stone of patience now, you may meditate what I am recounting you. Oh my syngue sabor, I had so many secrets to tell you to relieve my soul.  You never gave me an opportunity to talk to you.  You were scared of talking to me. Now you have no exit and you will listen to all that I have to say.”

            Two days later, the youngest of the fighters, the one who stutters, asked me “How much?”  I understood and his gun on my stomach convinced me to agree.  He had a terrible time removing my trousers.  I had to remove mine and his. He ejaculated prematurely on my thighs. I caressed his long hair and told him “This is not a grave matter. All men do the same the first time.” 

            I recalled our first year together.  You could not full it off.  At the time I had no experience. I thought it is in the nature of things that man enjoys and that we women are satisfied with men feeling happy satiated.  One night, I was enjoying myself and you woke up at my muffled screaming.  I told you that I have the fever and you believed me.  You told me to join my daughters in the next room.”

            I told my aunt the story of the young fighter and she said “Next time you have to initiate your adolescent boy properly; bad lovers ends up worriers.  Make sure that your stutterer kisses with his tongue and speak with his tail”

 

Note: Continuation of “Stone of Patience” (Syngue sabour) by the Iranian Atiq Rahimi.


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