Week 9: "Prayer Call"

Week 9:
Feb 27 - Mar 6

It is 7:30 pm and the distant sounds of prayer call lull me into a state of calm. No matter where you may be in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia you are always within earshot of prayer call. The elongated vowels undulating up and down in a hypnotic rhythm have no meaning for me intellectually or spiritually, but emotionally they are a powerful source of comfort.

Five times a day, no matter what, the muezzin sings a prayer up into the heavens and into the homes and hearts of all of the country’s inhabitants. Most Westerners curse the call to prayer, for at the very moment the first “Allah” is chanted, all stores and banks and restaurants shut down immediately. Doors are locked, screens are lowered, gates are shut and people are shuffled out into the streets and corridors of offices and shopping centers. When in the middle of running errands this scheduled interruption can be quite irritating. I have often found myself sprinting through aisles, plucking cans and boxes off shelves in a rabid manner, arriving at the cashier red-faced and panting, as the teller slowly slinks away for his religiously sanctioned “break”. Much to the chagrin of the religious police, very few people actually pray during prayer call. Most cashiers and waiters and store clerks leave their positions during prayer call to step outside to make phone calls, chat and smoke cigarettes. They passively stare at frustrated customers attempting to bargain for the opportunity to make one final purchase or complete their transaction. But their efforts are in vain. It is out of their hands, they shrug apathetically.

But I must admit, prayer call doesn’t much bother me (except, of course, for when I have just sprinted to the cashier and missed the chance to pay for my goods by a fraction of a second). I often savior the opportunity to step out of my hurried tracks and just wander about aimlessly, staring into closed shop windows, observing the men, women and children around me who have also had to press the pause button on their lives as well. Some curl up on benches and floor space and just sit patiently waiting for prayer call to pass. Others walk about aimlessly. Many just stand leaning against walls and door entrances tapping away on their cellphones, no doubt playing the newest version of Candy Crush.

Oftentimes, I will wander into the bathroom during prayer call to watch the women shed their veils and abayas and chat and gossip as they touch up their lipstick, eyeliner and curled coifs. As a child it amazed me how beautifully the Saudi women dressed under their concealing, black, religiously-sanctioned robes and veils. I couldn’t understand why they would put so much effort into doing their hair and make up when no one would see it. It wasn’t until I moved back to Saudi as an adult that I began to understand the phenomenon. Appearances are everything in Saudi Arabia. It isn’t only what you look like, but whom you know and whom you associate with. One’s reputation is everything. Though Westerners care about their looks and reputations as well, in Saudi these things rank supreme. It is difficult to explain, but it is a way of life that is deeply rooted in traditional tribal codes of conduct.

Unable to understand the stunning women’s animated Arabic conversations, I slip out of the bathroom after a few minutes and check my phone to see how much longer I have until prayer is over. I have an app on my phone that tells me when prayer call is and how much longer until the next one.  Prayer usually only lasts about thirty minutes, although sometimes (oftentimes) store clerks and owners are slow to get back to work and deal with the demands of others. And truth be told, I can’t say that I necessarily blame them.

The key to surviving in Saudi Arabia as a westerner is to simply embrace the crazy. Ladies, embrace the veil and the abaya. It’s honestly a relief to wear sometimes – no one ever knows that I’m walking out and about in just my pajama bottoms and a sports bra! Bad hair day? Not a big deal with a loosely draped veil over those untamed locks. Prayer call screwing up your schedule? What a great excuse to arrive late to events you don’t want to go to or to catch up on emails or social media. Segregated restaurants and lack of quality food frustrating you? What a wonderful opportunity to buy a cookbook and learn how to make different types of meals. The lack of social opportunities in Saudi can certainly be frustrating, especially for young, single people like myself, but on the other hand, it allows me to spend my time doing more productive and healthy things, like go to the gym, write and cook healthy meals. The secret to happiness, in any country or situation is to focus on the positives. Life is all about perspective. I could easily let the religious and societal rules of Saudi Arabia drive me into insanity, but I choose to focus my attention on energy on the things I can do as opposed to complain about the things I can’t. As a result, I am able to deal with difficult situations in a healthy and meaningful way. Life is what you chose for it to be. So I choose to smile, wander and make the most of the thirty minutes of stillness that is prayer call.