Sunday, September 13, 2009

The Call to Prayer


Just outside Abbey's bedroom window, across the street, there is a mosque. In fact, there are two mosques that can be seen from her window (look closely to the left in the photo below to see the second minaret). As I write this I am listening to the call to prayer that comes from the loud speaker mounted on the minaret (tower, or the literal translation is lighthouse). This call to prayer is sounded six times a day, and during Ramadan, not only are there LONGER calls to prayer, but also angry sounding sermons or readings of the Qurán that go on for over an hour. I'm sure if I understood Arabic it wouldn't sound like an anger-filled political speech, but until I master their language, the Muslim call to prayer is pretty grating on my nerves. I wonder if any Muslims are annoyed by the volume level and the tone of the continuous neighborhood moaning.

Even if I were part of Islam I think I would be saddened by the excruciating noise coming from an electronic device that seems to give the surrounding neighborhood no choice but to be force fed Islamic doctrine, and out of tune distorted chants. I would be embarrassed by the lack of dignity and respect. Being western, my worship has always been more private, more internal, more secluded from the eyes of the common man. Last night, though, as we were driving to an Iftar at sundown, there, next to a tire souq, was an indoor/outdoor mosque squished up against another souq. Just as we passed, men were taking their places on very dusty,filthy rugs and bowing down for prayer. It was all I could do to keep myself from snapping a photo to prove what I was seeing, but even that dirty area next to the busy street was someone's place to pray, and I couldn't disturb it, even if it was a starkly ironic setting.

I heard someone say that one reason many mosques have electronic loudspeakers is so that the women, who do not go to the mosques to pray like the men, can hear the service and be edified while staying in the seclusion of their homes. (Lucky them!) I also heard that the reason why women are not allowed in the mosques with men is because the men could not handle kneeling down behind a woman - it would be too distracting, too sensual for a man to concentrate on spiritual things when faced with a female backside. Hmmmmm . . . . . . I could think of some solutions to that, but I probably shouldn't share those here.

Well, I will continue to puzzle over the religion of this region and try to increase my respect and understanding for it. A few weeks ago, while in the very large "hypermarket" called Lu Lu's, a Muslim man presented me with my own English copy of the Qurán. I was surprised but thanked him for his gift. I have been interested to read a few passages and find that my interpretation of the written word is much different than what the modern practices are. I guess, to me, it only reinforces my gratitude for a true and living prophet on the earth today and continued revelation, both personal and global. I will continue to hear the loudspeaker outside our villa calling people to prayer, but what sends me to my knees each day is an internal, more powerful desire to speak and listen to my Heavenly Father. He is the reason I kneel each day, not a device on a tower.

Baking For Comfort


I missed my mom today and everything about home. Doha is still in the triple digits with 76% humidity, so everything about our Utah home seems extra wonderful. As I stood outside the school today waiting for Abbey, my elbows began to drip with sweat - gross, huh! It was easy to start pining away for the crisp fall days full of juicy Utah peaches and crunchy apples at the fruit stands.

So to bring some of Utah to my kitchen, I broke out the Grandma Giggey bread recipe and baked this beautiful bread and these delectable cinnamon rolls. I had invited my visiting teaching ladies over for lunch so we could celebrate our birthday month (yes, we are all September babies), so we enjoyed an afternoon of pasta salad, warm bread, cucumber/cream cheese crackers, and cinnamon rolls. The villa smelled like home! Thanks, Mom, for teaching me how to make delicious bread and yummy, sticky cinnamon rolls that have those stretchy sugary, buttery strings when I take them off the pan. I still miss you and everything Utah, but eating away the homesickness is much more enjoyable than sweating it off!

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Yes, My Husband Is An Artist


I'm really proud of Brett who has been painting again. It makes him so happy, so that makes me so happy. He has just applied to be in the VCUQatar Faculty Art Exhibit, so he has been working furiously. Here is his latest painting, and I think it is wonderful. He used a photograph that was taken by my friend Tish at the fruit and vegetable souq here in Qatar. This little Arabic man is the perfect subject to paint - full of character and depth. This picture does not do the painting justice, because the palette strokes make me want to reach out and touch them. I hope you enjoy "Souq" as much as I do!

Friday, September 4, 2009

What Is It Like to Live in a Muslim Country During Ramadan?


  • On the way home from work the other day, just as the sun was setting, Brett and Byrad were stopped by the police. Thinking it was a security check, they were surprised when the police officer handed them some dates and water in a very fancy, red bag - doing all they can to help prevent road rage in all those Muslims out driving with low blood sugar at sundown. Drunk driving isn't a factor on Doha's highways, but temperaments can get even more aggressive than usual when you run into a Muslim (he would do the running into part) who is on his 25th straight day of fasting.



  • The malls are filled with "Ramadan Kareem" decorations, complete with crescent moons and stars all over the place - symbols of the faith of Islam. Last night Brett and I were at the largest mall in Doha and found masses of people admiring and taking pictures of a cultural display that had automatronic figures - Arabic men on camels or lounging on shiny pillows in tents and veiled women preforming various laborious tasks in a desert setting. It was as if Disneyland had turned Arabic. The hordes of people taking pictures were incredible. These pictures were taken by my friend Darla (included here with her permission), but had I had my camera, I would have been taking pictures to prove the unbelievable rather than out of admiration.



  • It is difficult to plan around the no eating or drinking rules during day light hours. The other day I picked up Abbey from school and she told me she felt like she was having a low blood sugar. She quickly unzipped her lunch bag and began eating. When I reminded her about Ramadan Abbey's eyes got big and round. She was mortified and quickly covered her mouth and ducked down. In reality, children are exempt from the rule, so technically she could have eaten, but we don't want to take any chances of offending anyone.


So there you have some of my observations of this year's Ramadan. We are only two weeks into it, and I already feel deprived - and I'm not even fasting, except on Fast Fridays that is.