The World is My Masjid

"The whole earth has been made the place of worship for me and it has become the means of purification for me also. In other words, in my religion, offering of prayers is not confined to certain specified places of worship. Prayers can be offered at any place over the earth. And in case water is not available, it is lawful for my people to perform ablutions with earth (Tayammum) and to cleanse themselves with the soil, if water for bathing is scarce."

from Sahih Muslim, Hadith 1062, narrated by Abu Hurayrah


It was time for salat in Petra. If I had waited until I got back to the township, it would surely have been sunset. Samih waited patiently while I picked my way down to the amenities block to wash. There is always an individual or two in constant attendance at the amenities of a Jordanian tourist site. This seems to be in an effort to maintain cleanliness throughout the day.

At the Petra amenities there were two adult women, one outside the door and one inside. By the time I was beginning to make my ablutions, there was a young child in attendance, a bedouin girl named Aisha, who watched fascinated and passed me my rings and watch when I was finished. "You salih? You salih?" she enquired breathlessly. She had fair, tangled hair, a broad tan face and dark-rimmed hazel eyes that gazed directly into your soul.

Around my salat I had experienced treatment that ranged from accommodating to downright abysmal, but no salat for me was more special than the one I prayed in in the red dust, on a small green mat laid out for me by the bedouin women of Petra, surrounded by cavernous mountains and ancient ruins.

Afterwards I was effusive, "Beautiful masjid!" I exclaimed, indicating the small prayer mat and the surrounding majesty in a sweeping gesture. The women, who numbered four now, including young Aisha, looked at each other and then one of them picked up the rug, folded it, and placed it in my hands. And of course, you simply cannot refuse...

Deeply touched, I wondered madly what I could give in return. The watch I had bought in Malaysia was a dime a dozen where I came from, but something that little Aisha might treasure, so I took it off and the women helped her put it on her wrist. After everyone had oohed and ahhed over pictures of my children, which I showed to just about every breathing person within spitting distance on the trip, it was time to go back. While I had felt a little rejected in the city, I felt thoroughly embraced by the desert.