The Call

 In Morocco, like other Muslim majority countries, the call to prayer echoes out through every city, town and village five times a day. Although, to many of us on our trip, it became an unwelcome wakeup call, it is meant to remind everyone to slow down from their busy schedule and dedicate time to their religious practice. Each mosque has their own muezzin or announcer who administers the call. It rings out at the same times every day: before sunrise, midday, mid-afternoon, sunset, and night. In a large city like Rabat, where there are many different mosques, each call will start about five seconds after the other, sounding almost like a round as they bounce off the city walls. 

 The first time I heard the call while in Morocco, I was surprised at how few people I saw entering the mosques. I assumed the call was just like the bells of a church, telling believers it was time to make their way into the sacred space and receive god’s presence. So when I didn’t see anyone stopping to enter, I was taken-aback. My only explanation was that Morocco must be more secular than I thought. I didn’t realize until having an embarrassing cultural encounter, the extent to which the Muslim religion is practiced through daily life.

One night, we were walking back from dinner to our hotel through the medina’s market. Since my weak stomach couldn’t handle Moroccan tap water, I decided it was a good time to buy bottled water. Just moments before, the call to prayer rang out. We commented on how beautiful it sounded bouncing through the skinny streets of the medina. As I reached the counter of a small shop, selling the same type of items you would see in a convenience store, I spotted the shop keeper with his back turned to me. I politely said “salam” or “hello” and waited for him to turn around. Instead of turning, he ignored me and bent down. It looked like he was stacking shelves or taking inventory. A little bit louder this time, I said “SALAM”, hoping he would hear me. I even got one of my classmates to repeat “SALAM” just in case. Then, realizing he was praying, I turned bright red and ran away. I was so embarrassed. I had interrupted his prayer. I learned, however, why there weren’t many people rushing to enter the mosques during the call. Worship is done in a way that allows people to bring prayer and spiritual mindfulness with them in their daily errands. This man was able to pray, given the right to ignore potential customers while at work in order to practice his religion in a public space, something that would never happen in the States. Although, in that moment, I was the epitome of a disruptive tourist, it opened my eyes to the meaning and importance of the call to prayer.