Salams and Happy New Year!

Aman and I would like to thank everyone for following us last year on our Ramadan adventures in NYC. We never expected such an overwhelming response from such a small project.  Now that the new year is here, we wanted to unveil the idea for this year’s Ramadan.

Our vision is to share the Ramadan experiences of 30 individuals from 30 different countries. Ideally, one story will be from a Muslim residing in South Korea, another from Australia the next from Senegal, followed by Iceland, etc.

As was the case with 30 mosques in NYC, the success of this project is contingent upon participation from our readers.  If you or someone you know currently resides outside of the US and would be interested in sharing your Ramadan experience, please contact Aman or myself at 30mosques@gmail.com. Please include your name, location and a writing sample.

New York City served as a great springboard to this broader project.  The sheer numbers and diversity of Muslims living in New York City are like a microcosm of the global Muslim community. Our purpose is to celebrate the diversity of Islam across the globe.

Ramadan may be seven months away but we need to get the ball rolling on this now.

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The following post was written by Nzinga Knight, a New York based fashion designer who grew up attending Masjid Khalifa in Brooklyn.

Becoming an eveningwear designer evolved out of me wanting to have the right dress for Eid.

At my mosque then people go hard for Eid. The cooks put their heart into the food, we have an entertainment program that is unrivaled, and people come out dressed in their best.  That is, those who can and those who planned. When I began my fashion path then I didn’t imagine that I would become an eveningwear designer. But little did I know that my subconscious yearnings to be glamorous whenever the moment called for it would soon permeate into my reality and culminate into me becoming the eveningwear designer that I am today.

Up until I was a teenager my parents were able to simply buy me a dress that was kid appropriate and we’d go out for some family fun. As I grew older then I realized that simply going shopping was no longer an option. So getting ready for Eid; the dress, the shoes, and the scarf was a frustrating experience. As a teenager then I’d come to the mosque looking business chic at best while the other ladies had dresses on that had been planned out with their seamstress from weeks before. I’d ask my dad if he could get a dress made for me and he’d reply “Well then that would mean that I’d have to do the same for your other five sisters”.

By the time I reached my 3^rd year at Pratt as a Fashion design major I’d figured out how to turn $150 bucks into something really fabulous, and include some shoes and a beaded scarf into my budget too. So with my new ingenuity I convinced my dad to give me $150 bucks towards my Eid dress fund.

I thought, “this time I’ll show up to Eid looking the way that I want to look… fabulous!” But little did I know that what began, as a vanity pursuit would end up feeling more like second rites of passage.

The Eid program at Muhsi Khalifa tends to begin at about 5pm and end at 9pm. It was my senior year at Pratt at I had 5 designs that I was working on for my thesis. They were a bit complicated as every new design is an adventure. I’d decided that I’d duplicate the prototype for one style, a fuchsia and bordeaux red dress into my Eid 2004 dress. So with the budget that my dad gave me I purchased the fabric, and beads and proceeded to create my dress. After 50+ hours of altering my patterns and cutting and sewing, my dress was ready. My twin sister had been filming my senior year for months and so we figured we’d jump in a cab and head to the mosque for me to have my moment.

After 10 minutes in the cab we finally arrived. Up the stairs I went and into Akbar Hall I entered… at 9:05!

The program was O-V-E-R and there were scatterings of people. But that wouldn’t stop me. I finally looked like a million bucks and I was extremely proud. So whoever was there was going to be the audience for the debut of my dress. With about a half hour left until the hall would completely shut down I greeted the people who were there and received tons of compliments on my dress. My 50 plus hours of work and my dads $150 culminated in a half hour of extreme happiness and personal gratification.

I’ve had many happy days but this was different, I had created something that was able to alter my entire experience, even if for only a half hour. I imagined what a full evening of glamour would be like. I realized that I have a talent that can change a mood and enhance an experience. This was a pinnacle moment for me. I was able to go from a girl scrambling for clothes to a well-put together woman. At that moment then I was being the glamorous woman that I always wanted to be.

…

170 Comments | In: Brooklyn | | #

I’ve seen many spectacular sights in my short lifetime and tonight I have come up with the top four:

1. The ka’bah in Makkah, Saudi Arabia

2. Prophet Muhammad’s mosque in Medina, Saudi Arabia

3. Masjid Al-Aqsa in Palestine

4. Seeing a niqabi in Brooklyn get down on Eid

After tonight, I have to bump the birth of my nephew down to number 5. I hope my brother doesn’t mind.

Bassam was out of town today spending Eid Al-Fitr, the Muslim holiday celebrating the completion of Ramadan, with his family. Eid is typically a holiday to celebrate among friends and family. But since my family is spread out all over the country, it becomes harder to do that as I get older. Luckily for me, my little brother Zeshawn lives in New York now, so it wasn’t too bad celebrating Eid today.

Zeshawn tagged along with me to go to the Eid prayer held by the Upper Westchester Muslim Society. This is a congregation of mostly Arab and South Asian doctor families about 30-45 minutes north of where I live. They held the Eid prayer in a hotel ballroom and you can tell by the photo it was a packed crowd:

My buddy Sharaf Mowjood (who took many of the pics in this post) went to Eid prayer at NYU instead. Shoutouts to them for mentioning the 30 Mosques project during the Eid Khutbah, the short talk after the prayer.

Eid is without a doubt one of my favorite times of the year. It’s a day Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said is for rejoicing. So considering that most of my family wasn’t with me this year for Eid, I set out on a mission last week to find the most crunk celebration possible that could fill the void of them not being here.

If you listened to the NPR story on 30 Mosques on Friday, you would have learned that I was eager to re-visit Masjid Khalifah in Brooklyn for Eid. It’s the mosque Bassam and I visited on Day 24 and we were told the place has an AMAZING live entertainment show during Eid. I was compelled to find out if it was true.

I met up with Sharaf later that afternoon and we rolled through Masjid Khalifah at around 6 p.m.. As soon as we stepped inside, all we heard was Michael Jackson music BLASTING through the entire building. I looked across the room I was standing in and saw little kids doing the “MJ kick” and moonwalk. At that moment, Sharaf and I knew we were in store for an interesting evening, so we grabbed some food and sat down at a table in the community hall.

For dinner, I had beef tips, barbecue chicken, baked chicken, lamb, goat and catfish. For sides I had corn, lentil rice and spinach. Masjid Khalifah seriously came correct tonight, I was joking with one of the people that they must have had trouble figuring out what dishes to serve because it looked like they were offering every single halal animal imaginable.

As we were eating, we saw a live band come in and set up on the mainstage. I joked with Sharaf that this band must be legit because some of them were walking around with bookbags to hold their guitars in.

The band started off with some funk instrumentals, to warm the crowd up since people were still coming into the buildings. That’s when three Muslim women took the stage to lead the crowd in one of my favorite Motown records, “Stop in the name of love” by the Supremes. THE CROWD WENT NUTS.

The singers were walking up and  down the aisles  trying to get the audience hyped.  All of a sudden I see a women in black niqab get up and bust out moves that I didn’t even think were humanly possible.

As soon as I saw that happen, Sharaf and I looked at each other realizing not a single one of our friends would believe what we had just witnessed.

The band continued nailing cover song after cover song from artists such as Tina Turner, Chuck Berry, Barry White and they even busted out with some James Brown.

We decided not to take pictures of most of the evening celebrations because Eid is a time to celebrate comfortably among your friends and peers. I’m sure many of the people there would have been self-conscious of cameras flashing in their face, let alone uncomfortable with us posting their pics on our site for the entire world to see.

I think it’s safe to say that just about every mosque I’ve been to, the celebration that Masjid Khalifah had tonight would never fly. Then I started thinking, why not? Let’s put the women singing and dancing thing aside, whats wrong with cranking out a few tunes for people to enjoy on one of the most special days of the year to celebrate?

But I don’t want to turn this into an argument about the right way vs. wrong way to celebrate Eid. I’m not even remotely qualified to make that argument. But what I saw tonight was spectacular. To see Muslims spend the day of Eid with their friends and family completely energized from head to toe is a sight I haven’t seen in a long time.

Most Eid celebrations I have gone to growing up are enjoyable, but fairly routine. You grab a plate of food, sit down with friends and family and talk for a few hours. Still fun to do, but I’d take some James Brown tunes over that any day of the week.

After the celebration, the show’s emcees asked everyone to help clean up. They even managed to turn the cleaning instructions into a catchy song. I was like “Wow, they can even get crunk while cleaning.”

I helped stack some folding chairs and when I was done with that, I carried over some tables to a nearby wall. As I did that, one of the elderly gentleman in the community shouted at me not to move the tables.

That’s when I ran into one of the women I met when I visited Masjid Khalifah on Day 24. She said “You’ve prayed with us, had our food, and now you’ve been yelled at for doing something wrong. Congratulations, you are officially a member of this masjid.”

Driving back home to Manhattan after the celebration, I started telling Sharaf how hard it was to believe that the 30 Mosques project was coming to an end. That’s when we were driving through midtown Manhattan and noticed the green lights coming from the Empire State Building.

Green is a color heavily associated with Islam (Can someone tell me the exact significance of it, I’ve heard close to 30 different explanations). During the Eid holiday, the city of New York shines green lights on the Empire State Building to let the entire community know its Eid.

If you ever wondered how strong of an impact Muslims have had on New York City, all you have to do is come visit during Eid and look at the sky.

No person on this Earth could ever replace my family. But tonight I finally realized, the people I’ve met in this city, especially during this 30 Mosques project, are the next best thing.

85 Comments | In: Brooklyn | | #

Things are almost coming to an end. Stay tuned for our final posts. Don’t worry, we won’t overstay our welcome. Promise.

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The following is a post written by Musa Syeed, a close friend of the 30 Mosques project who did itikaf during Ramadan. Itikaf involves spending the final nights at the mosque during Ramadan secluded in worship.

After a few thwarted attempts, my plan was at last finalized. And it seemed pretty tight, I had all my supplies. I would make my getaway on the R train, and ride it straight out of midtown, out of Manhattan, and if I was lucky—out of this world.

Every Ramadan I tell myself that I’m going to do itikaf, a spiritual retreat where one tries to seclude himself in a mosque for any period of time. The Prophet Muhammad (s) recommended spending the last 10 days of Ramadan, an especially blessed time, in itikaf. Other years, I sometimes get around to spending one night. But this year, I finally one-upped myself—I was able to do 2 nights in a row. With itikaf the hope is to escape the dunya, this temporary world, long enough to imagine—and if you’re really lucky to taste—what spiritual excellence might be like.

After reading good reviews, I decided to do my itikaf at Masjid Hikmah in Queens. As I rode the train in, I checked the contents of my bag. I wanted to make this a good itikaf experience, so I came prepared. My long black kamees was folded in one corner. Although I resisted for a long time that there are some clothes that are more ‘Islamic’ than others, I know that my kamees is modest and comfortable and doesn’t distract me when I’m praying. I thought that when I wore it tonight, I would disappear, like some big Sharpie had just scribbled me out of this world, and I could move around the mosque unnoticed, fitting in. Quiet isolation is said to be key to a good itikaf.

In another pocket, I packed a few energy bars. Besides just not eating during the day, I was intent on eating less during the night and to eat more simple, healthy food. Whatever the mosque might serve, I was intent on making these energy bars my only meals. This I hoped would further the will power we develop during Ramadan, so that I could have the will to cut down on the junk I eat during the rest of the year.

Finally, there was my pocket-sized copy of the Qur’an and my dhikr beads. These I hoped would keep me busy through the night, so I wouldn’t be tempted to just turn this into some all-night hangout with whatever brothers I would meet there.

I got off the train, and I decided to change into my kamees before I even got into the mosque. I did this quickly on a dead street, and then entered the mosque. It wasn’t long before I realized my plans weren’t quite so perfect.

Allah plans, and we plan. But He is the best of planners.

For iftar, there were dates, fruit, cake, and soup. I was able to restrict myself mostly to just dates and fruit. But then when dinner came, and they laid out a buffet of Indonesian food, my energy bars became a distant memory. The peanut sauce, the coconut milk curries, the noodle salad were all too tempting. As I finished my first pass at the buffet, I realized my plate was a lot more full than I had planned.

Although the mosque is known as an Indonesian mosque, I had heard that the community is very diverse there, and indeed it is. But after most of the congregants left after tarawih prayers, I looked around me to see who else would be spending the night. I was the only non-Indonesian guy, and my black kamees stuck out against their colorful sarongs and floral print shirts.

And because I stuck out, I was the object of that great, overwhelming cultural force: Muslim hospitality. While I usually welcome this, tonight I was wary of it. I didn’t want to make friends, I wanted to spend the night in quiet meditation. But the men of the mosque, who also seemed to do most of the kitchen and cleaning work, wouldn’t leave me alone. Worst of all was Zam Zam, a young brother who seemed to be in charge of making sure things run smoothly. To make things worse, he seemed extremely interesting. While we made wudu, I realized that under his large black-green-gold knit cap were dreadlocks that fell to his mid-back. He was the main muezzin of the mosque, the person in charge of making the call to prayer. The teenagers seemed to look up to him. The children seemed to like him, even when he was gently reprimanding them for making a mess in the basement.

Early in the evening he turned to me and asked if I planned on staying the night at the mosque. When I said I would stay, he responded with a gleeful “All right!”, as if we were both 8 years old and my mom had just allowed me to sleep over at his house. I choked back a laugh. He piqued my interest, and although I avoided any extended conversations with him, I couldn’t help but continually make observations about him and guess at what his story might be.

As the evening came to a close, I wanted to evaluate my progress. I thought about my coconut curry-stained kamees, my full stomach and my uneaten energy bars, my burgeoning man-crush on Zam Zam, and the bookmark in my Qur’an that marked my sorry progress. I felt like I had failed.

From my lonely corner, I looked at Zam Zam thumbing his beads in his corner, and I finally felt like I knew him. There was something familiar in his unpretentious honesty and energy, the ease with which he communicated with both children and adults, and his quiet confidence. I realized why I recognized him. He is the believer I used to wish I could be, the image of a better me that I used to carry around. Before I let big-city cynicism seep into my heart, he’s the kind of guy I wanted to be like.

After an evening of being constantly pulled back to reality, I was tired and defeated. I wondered if I had this whole itikaf-escape-the-world thing wrong. This world is the only arena I have to prove myself, to live up to the ideals I claim to profess. So even though I lost this round, I have to stand my ground, here on this Earth.

Maybe instead of trying to get me out of the world, it’s about trying to get worldliness—its negativity, its short-sightedness, its littleness—out of me.

I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll ask Zam Zam when Ramadan is over.

22 Comments | In: Queens | | #

What better place to end the month of Ramadan than with one of the beacons for the Muslim community in New York, the Islamic Center at NYU.

This is the on campus center for  Muslim students at New York University, but under the leadership of Imam Khalid Latif,  this place has bloomed into one of the most popular hotspots for New York City’s entire Muslim community. Khalid Latif works double duty as chaplain for NYU and the New York City police department. He is one of the few Muslim leaders in this country that “gets it.” But more on that later.

The mosque is attended primarily by Muslim college students and young professionals working in the city, but during the jam packed Friday prayers you’ll also see plenty of older and younger Muslims attending the services.

Speaking from previous experience on a much smaller scale, running a Muslim college organization is no easy task. Because by the time leaders get in their groove, they graduate and the next batch of leaders have to start over. But NYU is different. Rather than catering to just college students, they know that in order to build a successful Muslim institution, you have to be welcoming to the entire community.

Right now the Islamic Center is located in the basement of this church by the NYU campus. We had to wait about 10 minutes to go inside because the church was hosting an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting there.

There weren’t many people at the mosque tonight, but understandably so. It’s a Saturday and most of the students have gone home for the weekend since Eid Al-Fitr, the holiday celebrating the end of Ramadan, is tomorrow.

My little brother goes to NYU, so it was nice getting the chance to spend one last iftar with him. We went inside and helped them roll out a few carpets as the time for iftar was coming in.

To break my fast, once again I rocked it old school, a date and a glass of water.

After prayer, we ate dinner. The food was catered from one of my favorite greasy restaurants, Kennedy Fried Chicken. It’s a huge halal food chain here in New York. It’s halal and open late, can’t go wrong with it. Tonight I had a philly cheesesteak, cheesy tater tots and an orange (to give my meal an ounce of healthiness). Epic yum.

Overall there were about 20 people there tonight, just about all students. But during the week, NYU usually gets around 80-100 people for iftar. Friday prayer is always jam packed. Khalid Latif usually leads the prayer here, and his Friday talks are amazing. Plus all the friday sermons are podcasted, so feel free to load up your iPod with these goodies.

Like I mentioned earlier, Khalid Latif “gets it.” The church basement where the mosque is located is only a temporary place for the Islamic Center. But what Khalid and the Muslims envision for their new location is beyond amazing. In two years the new Islamic Center will open on the NYU campus as an official part of the university. It will be more than just a traditional mosque. It will be a full fledged spiritual center catering to all the needs of the Muslim community. Aside from a room to pray, it will feature ta lounge for people to socialize and computer labs for students to get their work done.

To me that is what a mosque should be, a community center. Obviously it’s primarily a place to pray, but for someone like me in their 20s, it should also be a place where I can hang out with my friends.

I’ve had the blessing of doing a lot of traveling in my short lifetime and I often think about where the Muslim community as a whole is headed in this country. When I come to places like the Islamic Center at NYU, it brings a smile to my face because I know we’re heading in the right direction.

Sunday is Eid  and we have a series of special posts for you. Until then, Eid Mubarak

138 Comments | In: Manhattan | | #

I was on an emotional roller coaster today. I woke up jumping for joy about NPR doing a second story on us, this time now the entire country knows how beautiful New York’s Muslim community is. Then, I looked outside my apartment window to see that my car had been towed.

To make a long story short, I spent 4 hours and $240 recovering my car that a construction company towed… so they could park their steamroller in my spot. But then, Bassam emailed me saying a mosque in the Bronx had burned down last night.

The Islamic Cultural Center is a mosque still healing from a terrible tragedy two years ago, when 10 people from this congregation, nine of them children, died in a horrific house fire.

By fate, the towing pound I was picking up my car from was only a mile or two away from the mosque.

Notice how you can see scorch marks streaking through the tan part of the roof.

I asked one of the firefighters at the scene what happened and he told me a fire broke out after around 11 pm last night in the grocery store next door to the mosque. Flames burst through the store’s roof and also engulfed the mosque. He said they spent hours last night putting out the flames and the exact cause is still under investigation. I will post updates as soon as I receive them.

(UPDATE: I talked to one of the investigators in the fire department Saturday morning and he told me it was an electrical fire. Someone doing some electrical work in the grocery store was installing a fan and left some wires exposed).

You can see how strong the flames were by looking at how charcoaled the sidewalks are.

Thankfully, nobody from the mosque or store was hurt. But flames tore the inside of the mosque apart making the building unusable.

I stood there for a few minutes, motionless, staring at the door imagining what the congregation here must be thinking after having their mosque burn down. Especially during the holy month of Ramadan.

But I was quickly taken out of my deep thought by a man named Bilal. He tapped me on my shoulder letting me know there was only about five minutes before time to break the fast. He told me to come with him to the temporary mosque the congregation set up two blocks away inside an empty storefront building.

I ran into Imam Talib Abdur-Rashid, the Imam of the Mosque of Islamic Brotherhood in Harlem, that we visited a few days ago. He came to show his support for the community.

We broke our fast with some dates, and prayed in another barren room that only had blue tarp on the floor. After prayer, many of the people got up to go inside the room next door to eat, but I wanted to sit for a little bit and make some supplication for the people of this mosque. I immediately began thinking about how insignificant the problems in my own life are. Less than an hour ago, I was whining about some stupid tow truck. My eyes teared  just thinking about it. Bilal must have noticed as he was putting on his shoes since hee put his hand on my shoulder and said  “Come, we are all brothers.”

He took me into the room next door where everyone was eating dinner.

Keep in mind the room is an unfinished building, so we all sat squatted on the floor  around trays of food spread along the room. One person told me to stop taking pictures — this was a time for us to eat and share the company of our fellow Muslims, not turn an iftaar into a media event. I told him what I was doing and he welcomed me being here, but kindly asked that I take no more pics.

I sat with Bilal and one of his friends as we sat around a plate of seasoned steak, beef stew, plaintains and salad (sorry no pics). We tore up long rolls of Italian bread and used it to eat the food with. Being with these guys really made me feel at ease.

The congregation at the Islamic Cultural Center is almost all West African. Bilal is from Gambia and the other person we sat with is from Nigeria. They told me the Islamic Cultural Center had been in the neighborhood for over 10 years. The fire Thursday night actually broke out only 15-20 minutes after the congregation had finished its taraweeh prayer.

Bilal brought up one of my favorite sayings from Prophet Muhammad that really captured the mood in the air tonight. That the Muslim community is like a body. When one part of the body is in pain, the entire body is in pain.

In other words, when one of us suffers we all feel the plain. But Bilal brought up an interesting point. He said this saying also applies to happiness. When one of us is feeling good, the rest of us should feel the same as well. He told me this was not a time for us to be sad and depressed. Instead, this is a time for us to smile and be thankful that everyone is here to support each other during the end of this blessed month.

Bilal continued, “Plus, my wife tonight made the best steak you’ll ever taste in your entire life. Now you really have no reason to be sad.”

He was right.

This project is not about us, but instead we are the conduits to showcase New York City’s Muslim community. Whether you’re Muslim or not, please support the people of the Islamic Cultural Center in any way you can.

Call Bakary Camara at 917-568-5763 or mail letters and donations to:

The Islamic Cultural Center

Attn: The Building Fund

371 E. 166th Street

Bronx, NY 10456

497 Comments | In: Bronx | | #

What a day today. I started off my morning talking about 30 Mosques on the Brian Lehrer show on NPR. We had a great conversation and hope you enjoy it.

For the rest of this journey, I will be Bassam-less because he is in Texas spending the last remaining days of Ramadan with his family. So tonight, I visited Masjid El-Ber in Queens. I had heard of this place before but didn’t know much about it. But as soon as I pulled up to the place, I was floored. Check out the geometric marble patterns on the building, one of the most simple yet elegant styles of Islamic art.

Simplicity is a rich vibe that circulates through this building. Inside is a simple prayer room with comfortable carpet and a few fans on the wall. This is a congregation that is predominantly Egyptian and Bengali, but there’s also a decent amount of Caribbeans and Moroccans. Before prayer, my buddy Sharaf Mowjood (the handsome devil in this pic below) and I sat back and observed the congregation as people were coming in.

They gave the call to prayer, signaling it was time to break our fast. Once again we rocked it old school, dates with a glass of milk.

After we broke our fast and prayed, we sat among the brothers and patiently waited for the food to be served. For dinner we had Egyptian style food. It was sliced lamb over seasoned potatoes, salad, pita bread and a banana.

During dinner, Sharaf and I chatted with some of the brothers sitting nearby who told us a little bit about the history of the mosque. Apparently Masjid El-Ber has been in the neighborhood for well over 25 years. Now when I first heard that, initially I thought “Wow, 25 years, and they haven’t done any expanding?”

But then I thought about it. A mosque should cater to the needs of the local community. Even though the mosque has been around so long, maybe all the people need is a simple place to pray and gather. I looked around and saw people from all over the world coming in cracking jokes among one another. A litmus test I use to see if a mosque is serving the needs of a community, is checking to see if people are smiling. Masjid El-Ber passes with flying colors.

I was asked to not take pictures while people were eating because some of the people were self conscious. But I sat next to a person from the Caribbean island of Saint Martin named Mutassem. I can’t remember how the discussion came up, but we talked about how we both don’t like dogs.

Me, I am terrified of dogs. I’ve spent 2-3 years studying judo and have had knives pulled on me growing up, but if I see a poodle walking down the street, I turn into a screaming Miss Teen USA in about .3 seconds. So I asked Mutassem if he was afraid of them too, hoping he could comfort me with some solidarity. He laughed and said “No man, I just don’t like them licking me.” If there only was someone else in the world that’s as big a sissie as I am.

After we ate dinner, Sharaf and I went to Brooklyn to meet Tanzila Ahmed, one of his friends in who was in town visiting from Los Angeles. I didn’t formally introduce who I was and she began to tell Sharaf “So have you heard of this cool blog called 30 Mosques???”

I began to laugh and said “Umm hi, that’s me in the drawing.” Apparently she is a blogger for Sepia Mutiny, a South Asian site that wrote a nice post about us that brought a lot of new visitors to our blog. Small world, eh?

Tanzila was in town to check out this band called the Kominas, a group that has been dubbed as a Muslim punk band. I missed their performance, but I chatted with one of the band members after named Basim Usmani. He’s the first Pakistani man I’ve ever met with a purple mohawk. You can’t see it in the picture, but he’s wearing a lungee (or as I call it, “the South Asian man-skirt.”)

I have heard of the Kominas from friends before – most of the comments were strongly negative. But I always like to meet people with an open mind. I was curious to learn more about Basim. He grew up in Lahore, Pakistan and moved to Boston in the late 1990s. How on Earth did someone who was born and raised in Pakistan get involved in the punk scene? I had to know.

He told me that when he moved to America, the kids in the punk scene in Boston were the only ones that didn’t make fun of him for having a foreign accent. Immediately we bonded. Sure I’m clearly not a punk rocker, nor do I have an accent, but I can totally relate to feeling like an outsider in school. I think many Muslims can.

I went to elementary school around the time the Alladin movie came out, so I’d constantly get asked if I owned a magic carpet (I always quipped back with “No, I haven’t gotten my learner’s permit yet.”). But I never let that teasing get to me, and neither did Basim. The two of us grew up quite comfortable in our own respective identities, proud of who we are and where we come from. It’s interesting, aside from the people we were talking to tonight, just about everyone there seemed like a cookie-cutter hipster with skinny jeans, plain white t-shirts and Starbucks frappuccinos. And Basim, a towering Pakistani man with a purple mohawk and a man-skirt , seemed like the most genuine down to earth person in the entire room.

It’s easy to slam a place or someone based on a first glance. But take some time and approach forming your impressions with an open mind, and you’ll quickly see the beauty you overlooked from that glance.

9,403 Comments | In: Queens | | #

Tonight, Bassam and I went to Brooklyn to visit one of New York’s finest mosques, Masjid At-Taqwa. This is the mosque of Imam Siraj Wahhaj, one of the US’ leading Muslim scholars and also one of the most sought after public speakers. I’m sure anyone who has met Imam Siraj has a story about how he impacted his/her life, but for me, he’s one of the people that mentored me as I pursued a career in standup comedy.

One of the things I like about Imam Siraj is any time you meet him, a little bit of his kindness and goodwill rubs off on you. Just being around him makes you feel like a better person. I felt that a lot tonight when Bassam and I hung out with the congregants in the mosque.

The food we broke our fast with hit very close to home for me. In my teenage years, I spent a lot of time with Muslim groups that identify themselves as Tabligh Jammats. They are Muslims that travel around the country encouraging other Muslims to get more involved in their religion and local mosque activities.

Many Muslims often criticize the practices of Tabligh Jammat, but I can only speak from my own experiences- and they were all positive. The people I met on Tabligh Jammat were strangers that made me feel welcome during a time in my life I was confused about what my purpose in life was.

But anywho, the reason why the food hit close to home for me was because we had bread with cream cheese and honey out of a shared plate. It’s something we ate just about every day while on these Tabligh Jammat trips.

To many people, understandably so, it might be a culture shock to see 3-4 people eat with their hands out of the same plate. It’s a tradition that dates back to Prophet Muhammad’s (peace be upon him) time. It’s amazing how quickly one plate of food brings strangers together, regardless of who they are or where they come from. Tonight was that case. I was sitting far away from the plate of cream cheese and honey, and had trouble reaching over.

The brother sitting next to me immediately noticed me reaching and encouraged me to move in closer. His name was Muhammad, he and the other people sitting there made sure I was comfortable and asked if I had everything I wanted. I didn’t even uttered a word, but they treated me like royalty. Within minutes we were all cracking jokes and having a blast.

Before we knew it, our plate was empty, but our spirits were anything but.

It was then time to pray. The congregation here is a healthy mix of African Americans, Caribbean Islanders and Bengalis. Imam Siraj Wahajj was not there tonight, but the imam who led us tonight also had a soothing recitation. As you can see, it was a packed house, even for a Wednesday night.

The lines for dinner were fairly long, but I don’t think it mattered to anyone how long they were. Bassam and I were perfectly content waiting in line shooting the breeze about the happenings of the day. The volunteers definitely deserve shoutouts for patiently serving such a large group of people.

Considering Masjid At-Taqwa is one of the most well-known mosques in the entire country, best believe they come just as correct with their food. Tonight for dinner we had a nice mix of soul and island food. I had lo-mein, baked macaroni, potato salad, cornbread, baked chicken and couscous. The couscous was really good, they put in all sorts of cranberries and raisins to give it a zesty zing.

After dinner, we briefly hung out with some of the brothers in the mosque and then visited Abu’s Bakery, which is next door to the mosque. The owner, Idrees, said it’s very common for his bakery to be the hang out spot for Muslims once prayers are done next door. Bassam and I have both heard wonderful things about the sweets here (especially the bean pie), but both of us were way too full to even think about food. Definitely a place to visit next time we’re in the neighborhood though.

What Imam Siraj Wahajj and his congregation have built here in New York is definitely a shining example for the American Muslim community. There’s a reason why people flock from all over the five boroughs to his mosque. When I first moved to NY, I would spend almost 2 hours on the subway from my apartment in the north Bronx all the way down to his mosque.

I can’t speak for the other people who come here, but what always draws me to this mosque is its breathtakingly friendly atmosphere. You step inside this place and you feel so welcome, it’s almost intoxicating. But there’s more to this place than just the atmosphere. They’ve been able to take that atmosphere and build an entire community around the mosque. An almost endless row of Muslim run shops circulate around the mosque serving the entire local community, serving both Muslims and Non-Muslims. That to me is what a mosque should be. By simply having a presence in the neighborhood, everyone and everything around it becomes better as a result.

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The following post was written by Nzinga Knight, a New York based fashion designer who grew up in this mosque.

Masjid Muhsi Khalifa is my home mosque. Like the theme song for Cheers, Masjid Khalifa is the place where everybody knows my name and they’re always glad that I came. Since 1975 this Mosque has been under the leadership of the late Warith D Mohammed. I began going to Muhsi Khalifa as a child with my family. To quote Warith D Mohammed he said, “We should realize that the first identity is not of an African or a European or a Saudi. The first identity is a human being. And as long as we build our diversities upon that foundation that god gave us, the human foundation, we’re in good shape. And we should just make all the progress we can, separately or all together.” With Muhsi Khalifa’s do for self attitude this community has made great progress as an African- American and Caribbean American populated mosque that once had it’s beginnings in the Nation of Islam in the 1950’s.

My sister Nsenga Knight who has documented some of the history of this mosque through it’s female pioneers has helped me to learn even more about this place. She says, “I feel like I am living in the richness of this mosques history and truly feel at home in this space.” So do I.

One of the things that I love most about this mosque is the familiarity that it has with my life as an American. Regardless of gender or age every one is included in this community and we are in constant communication with one another. I spoke to one of the pioneers, Sis Umilta, Anika’s mother (who’s like an auntie) who began attending in 1973 about that day in 1975 when Warith D Mohammed succeeded his father as the leader of the NOI (a year later then Warith D Mohammed renamed it the World Community of al-Islam in the West) and led the congregation to mainstream Islam. She says, “I never felt as though I wasn’t Muslim, we had a mass shahada and we never turned back, it was like there was a genetic memory and it was just getting wakened up… it was a progression.” As the successor to his father Warith D Mohammed’s thoughtful demeanor and profound spiritual conviction inspired a community of people steeped in the idea of self-reliance and spirituality to create a brand of Islam that is American and empowering.

I can best describe this mosque community’s culture by illustrating what my experience is like from the time that I enter my mosque.

As I make my way to the mosque then brothers in suits greet me with Salaams at the corner, front door and security area. These men are standing at their posts and they are watching out for the community. And when I ride my bike then any brother will bring my bike upstairs.Then I go upstairs to the mosque and enter the sisters section.

To me then one of the most telling things about a mosque is the women’s prayer space… they can come in many styles: non-existing, in some scary space that’s probably a civil rights violation, partitioned, or simply behind the men’s. Women enter our prayer space upstairs through a door that is 3 feet away from the men’s identical door. The men and women all share the same large prayer space with the women beginning their lines for prayer in the back and the men beginning in the front. Our wudu station is convenient, dry, clean and pink. The women are really gracious and kind and I am constantly learning something new from them.

My women and children friendly mosque has a lounge area for women who aren’t praying or are nursing. It’s complete with sofas, a rocking chair, a crib, a changing station, flowers and most importantly speakers so that she can hear the kutbah. I have been to mosque spaces that are in many ways unfriendly to women so in light of what many other Muslim women put up with I don’t take this for granted. I also love that there’s a Girls Scouts of America, Boys Scout’s, Martial Arts classes, a Clara Mohammed, School, a community center, a banquet hall and a host of other reasons to stick around.

I am an American Muslim going to an American Muslim mosque. I love that there is no duplicity with how I interact with people outside and then inside of the mosque space. My mosques culture reflects its people. I think that it’s the self-love that we have that enables us to grow, love one another and love others.

The history of Muhsi Khalifa is something that has empowered the community and has informed its culture and style. Allah has written the marvelous story of these people and this space. I could only imagine what this community might have been like if we hadn’t built upon the good parts of all of our preceding chapters. I appreciate my mosque for so many reasons. It’s the simple things like being able to have iftar with Bassam and Aman sitting at the same table, being able to see my Imam as he speaks, and having a woman’s lounge with sofas that I find refreshing.

162 Comments | In: Brooklyn | | #