Jumeirah Grand Mosque, Dubai: Open Doors. Open Minds.
“This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness.” – Dalai Lama
Jumeirah Grand Mosque hit my radar on my Emirates flight to Dubai. The beautiful structure promised a cultural experience. I was intrigued, and we had an open day to fill with adventures.
When we arrived in Dubai, we inquired about the hotel’s various excursions. I was interested in hiking the mountain trails, such as the Al Hajar Mountains or Hatta. These options did not appear to be available, so we moved on to the mosque.
We wanted to go on Wednesday. We were told the only available time was 9:00 a.m., and we would have to arrive early. Luckily, we did our own research online and went for the 1:00 p.m. showing.
Travel tip: Ask questions, but verify the information you are given is correct.
We arrived early, walked the grounds, and snapped some pictures. We visited the gallery, where photos of other mosques were displayed.
When the time came, we were led to a sitting area where we were served Arabic coffee and a few Middle Eastern treats. Have you seen the movie Sex in the City 2, where the ladies were given Arabic coffee? Do you remember the looks on their faces when the coffee hit their lips? Well, that was what I thought of when I tasted the coffee. Their reactions made perfect sense. Although the bitter flavor was a turn-off, I was happy to experience the flavors of the Middle East.
When our group gathered, we learned about the slogan I had spied, “Open doors. Open minds.” The Jumeirah Grand Mosque welcomes non-Muslims in to teach them about Islam. We could ask questions. Their goal was to educate us and give us a better understanding of their religion and culture. I had no idea how thought-provoking this experience would be. The unconscious fears I carried deep within surfaced, then evaporated. I was able to examine my beliefs and create new, unbiased ones.
Our first stop was the washing area, where men cleanse themselves. At the instruction of our guide, a few volunteers from our group demonstrated how this is done. Prior to praying, men wash their face, hands, arms, feet, and ankles.
We were then led to the mosque. Before entering, those who did not have the proper attire were give items to wear. I had brought a scarf to cover my hair, and my clothing was conservative enough.
We formed a semi-circle around our guide in front, where we faced Mecca, the holiest of Muslim cities. A man demonstrated the way Muslims pray. He was behind us, so we all had to turn around to face him. He could not be in front of us because his back would be to Mecca. We watched as he conducted his ritual.
We learned about the Five Pillars of Islam:
- Shahadah: Muslims must recite their profession of faith three times in front of witnesses.
- Salat: Muslims perform their prayers five times a day. Before praying, Muslims clean themselves in the wash area, in a ritualistic manner referred to as Wudhu.
- Zakat: Muslims give 2.5% of their wealth, such as cash or gold, to those who are less fortunate.
- Sawm: Muslims fast during the month of Ramadan.
- Hajj: Muslims make a pilgrimage to Mecca.
I loved the idea of Zakat. Our guide told us how really wealthy people have accountants who calculate their Zakat. Funds can be given to family, friends, or the needy. For example, if I had a million dollars sitting in a bank account untouched for a year, I could give 2.5% of this to a family member to put towards their mortgage as my Zakat. I liked this concept. Friends and family support each other, rather than compete.
Our guide explained how women had a separate, smaller place to pray in the mosque. I felt my body tense, until she explained why. Women are not required to pray in mosques. Instead, they can pray anytime, anywhere. Because they take care of the children, they are given more liberties. If the women’s room is full, then women can pray in the men’s space, behind them. Again, I felt my muscles freeze up, until we were shown the prayers. We were told women prayed behind men to give them privacy. To perform the prayers, Muslims bend in awkward positions. Being behind men allows women to move freely. I thought about all my yoga classes, and this concept made perfect sense. Wouldn’t it be nice if all the men were in front when I was in a downward dog position? My lips curled up.
Ironically, I sat there scrutinizing their religion, looking for signs that screamed oppression of women. Yet, who was I to judge? I grew up Greek Orthodox. As a young girl, I had always wanted to enter my church’s alter, but only males were allowed to. I had thought about sneaking in. After all, if I got caught, I did carpool to Greek school with the priest’s granddaughter. I was also pretty sure I could have batted my eyes and gotten my male schoolmates to let me in. But, I did not. Not because I was afraid of getting caught. I knew I could innocently talk my way out of that. I never succumbed to the temptation because I did not want to disrespect God, in his house, as he would see me. In my mid-twenties, I questioned these rules. Although I had long lost the desire to slip inside the alter, I felt these rules were man-made and not passed down from God. To this day, I do not know why women are not good enough to enter the alter in a Greek Orthodox church. In Dubai, I learned why women have separate rooms and pray behind men. Their customs made sense.
The guide talked about facing Mecca, which is located in Saudi Arabia. At the mention of Saudi Arabia, Elaine and I glanced at each other. While planing our trip, we talked about crossing the border into Saudi Arabia. We wondered if this would be a cool adventure or completely dangerous. We sort of laughed at ourselves. One minute we were trying to figure out if renting a car and driving the country was wise, the next minute, we wondered if we could hop a flight and explore another Middle Eastern country. When we arrived in Dubai, Saudi Arabia kept appearing in our online searches. While we looked up the Dubai Fountain, Saudi Arabia’s fountain popped up as a place of interest. This was just one more aspect of Saudi Arabia that piqued our interest. I had never wanted to visit the country before, but now thoughts of blending in and attending Hajj were becoming a fantasy. After all, I do have dark skin.
When Muslims voyage to Mecca, they face many challenges. The crowds are overwhelming, and they must practice patience. They are all dressed the same, in three pieces of cloth. This equalizes everyone. You could be a sheikh or a pauper, and no one knows the difference. They do not allow stitching, as the material world would enter the holy land. The simple dress code keeps everyone focused on the moment. One has to be Muslim to participate in the rituals hosted at Mecca. Too bad, as I would love to journey to Mecca and immerse myself into this holy, self-developing experience. If I cannot experience Mecca, I still want to visit Saudi Arabia, a country I never thought would make my bucket list.
Our guide explained the customary dress of the women, the abaya, the hijab, and the burqua. The abaya is a thin, flowing cloak; the hijab covers the woman’s hair; and the burqua exposes only the eyes. We wanted to know if women are forced to dress like this. Our guide laughed and explained, “The abaya gives the young a sense of freedom. My daughter loves when she is late for class and she can throw her abaya over her pajamas.” I had perceived this attire to be religious, but it is actually cultural. Women choose to wear or not wear these items. Again, there is a sense of freedom. What is beneath those garments? A red, sexy dress or sweats? Only the lady knows.
When the time came for questions, there were so many unspoken words burning my tongue. I asked the first question, “Who decides what will be discussed at the mosque?” I wanted to know if religion was dictated by the government, as all mosques were given the same topics. Previously, this was not the case. There did not appear to be a political agenda. I wanted to ask many other things, but I had to give others a chance to speak. Plus, my questions were inappropriate. I wanted to ask, ‘If Islam is so peaceful, why are there so many terrorists who are from the Middle East?’ I waited patiently, but my chance was over before I mustered up the courage to utter the words. No one dared to ask the question. Our guide addressed my unspoken thoughts. She said, ‘There are 1.5 billion Muslims. If the fastest way to Allah is to be a suicide bomber, wouldn’t there be more Muslims blowing themselves up?”
Our guide gave me something to think about. Are all white, Southern men members of the Klu Klux Klan? No. Are all Roman Catholic priests child molesters? No. Are all Germans Nazis? No. Then why are all Muslims perceived to be terrorists? Many are peaceful, and Dubai welcomes American tourists.
This was by far one of the most interesting, educational, thought-provoking experiences I have encountered in my travels. Because of the 9/11 attacks, I had some buried anger. I have a wide variety of friends, from all different religions, cultures, and skin tones. I see my friends as friends and do not judge them based on these factors. Yet, when I entered the country, I had an air of unwarranted caution. I was beginning to realize Dubai was not the most dangerous country I had ever visited, but rather the safest country I have ever stepped foot in.
More blogs from this trip:
- Three Firemen and a Girl in Leopard Pajamas
- Touchdown: Dubai
- Dubai: Kite Beach
- Dubai: Pierchic, Where the Sun Kisses the Ocean
- The Dubai Fountain, The Dubai Mall
- Alexandra Dhow Cruise in the Dubai Marina
- Dubai City Tour
- Red Dune Safari with Sand Boarding, UAE
- Al Ain, United Arab Emirates
- Gold on 27, Burj Al Arab, Dubai
- The Dubai Frame, UAE
- Observatory Bar & Grill, Dubai Marina
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I love how you shared this thought- provoking experience. It really captures why we travel– to learn. I wish I could have joined you on this trip!
Thank you so much for checking this out and sharing your thoughts! Agreed! We will travel again, someday…