Outdoor Ramadan Prayers

 photo from Wikipedia

I have a favorite mosque that I like to walk to for taraweh, the extra prayers said each night during Ramadan. The mosque has a large courtyard and takes up a small block. The streets are blocked off so that counting inside the mosque, courtyard and surrounding streets, there are about 4,000 people attending the prayers. I love to pray there, always outside, as the night breezes begin to cool the city.  It is about half a mile from my house, though, and this year I simply did not have the energy to trek there and back again after fasting 16 hour days in triple-digit heat.

There is another large mosque just 3 blocks away, but it has no courtyard and just as I expected, the first night I went there it was miserably hot inside.  Still, I wanted to make taraweh at the mosque rather than alone at home. The taraweh prayers are optional, as is going to the mosque to say them.  But the beauty of the rectitation and the spiritual energy of crowd in the cooling air was something I craved. The next night I resolved to just take my time and get to the further mosque.

That evening I left the house with a trashbag in hand.  On the way to the dumpster the bag leaked all over my hands and feet.  I stopped at a store and bought a bottle of water and rinsed myself off on the sidewalk.  I was nearly at the mosque when I realized I'd left the stool on which I sit for prayer on the sidewalk where I'd bought the water.  I hurried back, praying my stool was where I'd left it.  It was, but by then I knew I was late.

I reluctantly started to go to mosque where I'd have to pray inside.  That's when I made a wonderful discovery.  This smaller mosque faced a busy boulevard, but the back of it open onto a small side street that was blocked off. I never took this route past this smaller mosque on the way to the larger one  during Ramadan, and so I had never seen the people praying outside. But here they were.

From the chain of events starting with that leaking trash bag, Allah led me to a Ramadan mercy. I could pray close to home and still be outside after all.  

Ramadan Eating in the Town of Yousouffia, Morocco

Tagine in a meal cooked slowly in a clay dish over a low fire

Every Ramadan is different.  There is no way of knowing at the start of any Ramadan what blessings will come from it, what lessons will be learned, or what difficulties will be relieved.  Ramadan has been so full for me this year, I don't even know where to start.  There is my Moroccan family, which welcomes me and will feed me so much that, if I'm not careful, I could find myself gaining weight even though I'm fasting. 

There are new friends.  I spent the second week of Ramadan in a small city called Yousouffia. The food at the end of a day's fast, was excellent.  I had a Moroccan vegetable for the first time, the Arabic name of which I've unfortunately forgotten, that looks and tastes almost exactly like a cucumber.  It's a bit longer than a regular cucumber and even though it's the same dark green on the outside and light green on the inside, it has slight furrows or ridges down the length of it, like a pumpkin.  It's served grated and chilled, with a tiny bit or sugar or some other preferred seasoning.

The house in Youseffia was a large, rambling single-story home with a large yard that tended to stay about 20 degrees cooler inside than outside, even without air-conditioning.  The yard is landscaped, with lime trees, grass, and potted plants.  In the backyard, there is a pen with space for turkeys, chickens and a rabbit.

The mother was a well-organized cook who prepared meals early in the day that were chilled or easily reheated for breaking the fast.  Each day she made and then chilled yogurt for the next morning's meal.    She prepared her version of traditional Ramadan tomato-based soup with lentils or garbanzo beans, called harira, for dinner each day, letting it simmer slowly for hours.  Homemade pizza or meat-filled turnovers were baked in the oven outside the back door (which kept the heat out of house).   

She made bread in her backyard oven as well, or made pancakes called beghrir or pan-breads early in the afternoon. There were also sweets and a sort of Moroccan granola, called seelo, that she made and stored beforehand in huge quantities enough to last the whole month of Ramadan.  Seelo is toasted wheat, not oats, so it has a finer texture.   All of that food, except for the morning yogurt and ceelo, were ready for iftar, our first meal when we broke fast at sunset.

After Maghrib, the sunset prayer, and the food, we left for the big mosque for Isha, the night prayer, and taraweh, the special Ramadan prayers. Walking slowly and talking with friends most of the way, we generally arrived home around 11 pm.

The main course, to be eaten around midnight after all of the special Ramadan prayers were done, was often a tagine, a meal of meat, chicken or fish and slow-cooked with potatoes or other vegetables in a clay cooker over a slow fire.  This was also cooked early in the day and heated to a finger-burning hotness when it was time to eat. 

Eid al-Fitr in Marrakech

Ramadan, the month of fasting, ends at sunset.  The Eid (eed), or celebration, begins at night.  I bring a gift of decorative holiday cookies to my downstairs neighbors.  With cookies and orange soda, we wish each other  Eid Mabrook, blessings of the holiday.

The time for fajr, the morning prayers, runs from about 4:30-6:00.  That is the time the sky begins to lighten, but ends as the sun actually comes up over the horizon.  At 6:00 loudspeakers from the street are urging everyone out of their homes with "Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar...".

By 7:00 a wide boulevard is packed with people for 2 long city blocks. They cover over the dividing islands and cross each side of the street.  Lines of parked cars completely and effectively block each end of the site. People fill every inch from curb to curb, sidewalk to sidewalk. One block is for the men, one block is for the women. I see a few policemen scattered about. They are not needed for this celebratory prayer.

There are thousands of people here. Ten thousand? Twenty? When I stand directly in the middle of the street and look straight ahead, I cannot spot the imam out of all of this crowd. To my right, the sun is bright white and still low, just clear of the rooftops.  There is a breeze; the air is still cool.  It is only about 80 degrees.  That feels cool, because later on, the forecast is predicting a high of 110. 

Woven plastic matting has been unrolled in the streets.  On top of that, people place their prayer mats and sit on the ground.  Those who have some physical difficulty bring stools or chairs.   For the latecomers, the places on the matting are taken.  No matter.  They lay their prayer rugs directly on the ground to sit on and then to stand on to pray. The rugs always touch or overlap as the Muslims will stand to pray not singly, but as a unit--touching shoulder to shoulder and toe to toe.

In the midst of these thousands of people, two friends come up to me out of the crowd.  A moment later, I spot a 3rd friend over to my left.  I introduce each to the other.

In the normal Friday congregational prayer, there is always first the khutbah, or sermon, then the prayer.  For eid, the order is reversed.  The loudspeakers, strung from light poles along the street so that all can hear,
have stopped the chant and the voice of the imam, who remains invisible in the distance to me throughout, begins the prayer.

By 8:00 the family downstairs has received it's first holiday visitors--nephews, sister, cousins. We eat cookies, drink coffee.  We share soup and a traditional square bread layered, pastry-like and fried.

I go upstairs again.  It's geting hot, and I go online to check the weather.  At 8:30, it's 91 degrees. 

Eid Mabrook, from Marrakech.

Ramadan Prayers in Morocco

Muslims do not believe that acknowledgement of their prophet will get them into paradise.  Unlike some Christians for whom belief in Jesus and baptism is enough to get them into heaven, or Catholics who can seek expiation for their sins from their priests, Muslims believe that every one of us will be judged individually and that each person has to ask forgiveness directly from our Creator. 

Ramadan is a  special time each year when through fasting and prayer, we can seek atonement, forgiveness, blessings and mercy. There are extended, optional prayers every night at the mosque.  Thousands of people gather for at each mosque all over Morocco for 90 minutes or so for these prayers.

With the call to Isha, the last obligatory prayer of the day after the sun has set, there is a Quranic recitation abt 10 or 15 minutes long as people gather in and outside the mosque. Once the recitation ends, the imam leds isha, the night prayer that has 4 rakats.  Each rakat is a complete cycle of standing, bowing and prostrating.  Standing again is the beginning of the next rakat.

Then the imam leads 8 rakats of taraweh, the special prayers that can only  be  made during the nights of  Ramadan each year.  Finally, some imams leads  2  rakats of  the  witr prayer. Many people pray a single witr rakat on their own before leaving the mosque. Other imams pray a 3rd rakat and include in it the qunut--the part formulaic and part spontaneous pleading while standing end of the witr prayer--lasts about 5 or 10 minutes.

It's hard to guage the time while in prayer, but the experience is truly powerful. Regardless of our level of understanding the Arabic, it is almost impossible to not feel the meaning during the qunut: to hear a grown man's voice break in his plea for Allah's forgiveness and His Mercy, to hear people around you crying softly; to see that you are among the thousands people at just that one mosque who have come voluntarily out of fear for their souls; to know that you are surrounded by people who are crying for mercy and forgiveness.
  
During the last 10 days of Ramadan  there are additional late night prayers in the Moroccan mosques. These are another 10 rakats of taraweh prayer that end with a long pleading for forgiveness, mercy, and blessings for ourselves; for our families; and for the less fortunate.  These prayers last another 90 minutes or so, and finish just in time for people to go home and eat before the start of another day of fasting.

The fast of Ramadan can be taxing, and those who are physically unable are allowed to either make the days up later or in other ways.  But the taraweh prayers are open to anyone who can make it out of the house.  People come walking and in wheelchairs.  Those who are not able to stand for long periods or have difficulty prostrating bring stools, camp chairs, folding chairs and lawn chairs.  Some just stay seated on their prayer rugs.

Some people are able to go to the mosque every night. Some only as their schedule permits. Some make their prayers in their homes.Some do not make them at all.  Those who do make the extra prayers during Ramadan find immense spiritual benefits that only come once a year.