My Hajj Trip - 1426 Hijrah / 2006 G.

2006-01-15T21:59:00.000-08:00

My Hajj Experience... amazing, refreshing, one-of-a-kind!

Without a doubt, Hajj has been the greatest experience of my twenty-year old life and it'll probably stay that way even when all my hair have turned white! I don't mean to say that in terms of spirituality and worship such as Quranic recitation and prayers (however, if you consider every step, every breath as an ibadat during Hajj, then it doesn't mean that closeness to Allah in Hajj depends on simply recitation or offering Salah).

There was so much about Hajj that I had anticipated and so much more that I couldn't ever have imagined even if I'd been given several minute-by-minute descriptions of the trip by previous Hajis! It's amazing how two-and-a-half million people (correct me if I am wrong, the official and unofficial figures keep changing) come together in a unique, almost incomprehensible way during those few days. It seems as if the whole world has shrunk to nothing but Makkah and the adjoining areas. The population of such a 'world' is two-and-a-half million and everything that happens there is the only reality - but what is reality when those dressed in plain white, are all there to reaffirm their beliefs, to refresh their faith in the Hereafter? Then, it seems as if no earth ever existed and mankind is now moving towards some sort of end.

I hadn't intended to go into my own version of Philosophy. You can read that in every other article about Hajj. Let's stick to my story:

(Initially, my journal kept pace with our travel but then I couldn't find time to write at all! I have added portions from what I had written in my journal (in italics), and thus, generally, it'll be in present tense.)

2006-01-15T21:01:00.000-08:00

Day 1: 5th January (5th Dhul-Hijj)
Departure to Madinah from Tabuk

:: 8:20 am, Tabuk-Madinah Highway:

Assalam-o-alaikum! We’re on the highway to Madinah, settling into comfort in the car. Madinah is still 650 km away but our closest stopping spot is Tayma, 240 km away.

The road is very scenic. First, fruit farms, then sandy rocks. The sky has a smattering of clouds, pierced by the rays of the morning sun. The beauty of such a landscape can only be appreciated if you’ve had the opportunity of staying in a desert area. Imagine this: dark rocky hills with sand, as if sprinkled at some places, piles of it at others, giving a glittery, golden effect. I could stop to take a picture but the journey is long and we must keep moving. The sun is out again to light up the bare, barren area. It’s like driving on Mars!

:: 2:30 pm, Khyber

After stopping at the outskirts of Tayma, we were off to Khyber 230 km away. I was feeling weird in the head, having slept only six hours in two days! My primary concern was sleep and, having snacked on an omlette sandwich and fruit yoghurt, I settled into my seat, awaiting slumber. Slowly, lulled by the images of vast desert beyond the car window, and the then the craggy peaks at Ashash, I took a nap for half-an-hour.

On waking, I found Khyber was only 38 km away. At this point, refreshed, my sisters and I spotted several ‘weather rockets’ zooming through the sky, collecting data. Then, we marveled at the colored stripes in the mountains… red, fawn, dark green striations all together…as specifically mentioned in the Quran.

“Has thou not seen that Allah causeth water to fall from the sky, and We produced therewith fruit of diverse hues; and among the hills are streaks white and red, of diverse hues; and among the hills are streaks white and red, or diverse hues, and (others) raven black.” (Quran: Al Mala’ikah 35:27)

Khyber, remembered by Muslims mainly through the battles against the Khybarite Jews in 7 AH, still has that special feel about it. On entering Khyber, we spotted an old well in a garden that somehow seemed to represent the town. At Khyber, we stopped for Zuhr prayers at a small mosque surrounded by a park lined with green trees. The rocky mountains in the background perfect the picture completely.

I might add now, that the mosque was so small (especially the ladies section, which was just a small courtyard with short walls) and simple… with old, dusty prayer mats that I couldn’t help but feel elated. Yes, elated! There is something in that powerful Arabian setting that when you pair it with such simplicity, the effect on the soul is… indescribable. In modern, air-conditioned mosques with plush carpets, you might find a Qari with beautiful recitation very pleasing, but move him to that mosque in Khyber and everything about Islam suddenly becomes clear. Everything about life becomes clear. Simplicity, simplicity…

We returned from the women’s prayer courtyard to find fresh Ruz-al-Bukhari (a special rice preparation with raisins and shredded carrots) and grilled chicken Abba had bought for lunch. The picnic mat was out and in completely basic Bedouin style, we had our delicious lunch. The cool breeze refreshed us instantly and after snapping a few quick pics, we were back on the highway.

Madinah is about 200 km away. As I write this, we are driving through a plain desert area with mountains on the horizon again. Madinah is close now and what distance used to be covered in 3-4 days takes just around two hours today.

:: 3:50 pm, 40 km from Madinah

As we approach Madinah, the mountains have taken upon a more typical, conical shape. I think they’re also called lava tracts. Date farms characteristic of Madinah are situated along the highway. I wish I could stop at one and walk amongst the trees, imagining myself a humble resident of Yathrib. Ah… Ajwa dates!

It’s getting greener now, as we approach the ‘check point’ of Madinah. There doesn’t seem to be anyone actually stopping to check for Hajj passes here. Ah, but there are policemen. I hope this doesn’t take too long. And it doesn’t, Alhamdolillah. They take a look and let us pass. Madinah is 20 km away and we all want something ‘fresh’ to drink. A great journey, Alhamdolillah.

When we finally got a room in Madinah, close to the Pakistan House where we’d stayed in the summer, it was nearing Maghrib time and we had to hurry to make it to the mosque. That’s when I first saw the pilgrims! Emerging from cars, buses, hotels in groups… groups upon groups, all heading for the mosque. It was interesting to what method each group had adopted to make sure none of the members would go missing. Some had colored bows pinned to their scarves and Ihrams, others used badges or bandannas for identification. One Bangladeshi group had all the women wear neon-orange Ihram!

I was particularly excited about meeting people from different countries, though I hadn’t realized how difficult that could be when each is concerned about his or her own Hajj! Anyway, it soothed the soul to be part of the Hajis, and to know that in the next day and half, we’d all set off for the Meeqat for a common goal.

I should write something about the hotel in Madinah. We couldn’t get a room in the Pakistan House so we located a tiny building with a small sign ‘Dar Az-Zahra’ above the front door. Needless to say, it wasn’t in very good condition. But all we needed was a room to spend the night and we took it, especially when we were quite sure other rooms nearby would all be booked. This is one point to note: If you’re ever stuck without a hotel room, look up these small buildings. They have licenses, yes, and they’re certified by the Hajj authorities, etc. etc. but don’t expect to find great comforts. Our room’s carpet needed changing, the washroom was tiny (with an iron door) and one of the beds creaked so much that only Abeer, the lightest of us sisters, could sleep in it without worrying about the bed breaking. Apart from that, small cockroaches chose to roam over the walls, which we noticed in the morning, saving us a worrisome night. Also, my Amal, my youngest sister, had a particular thing against the pink and blue painted walls.:P So why did I just tell you all that? I’m not complaining, really! My point is… it’s strange how, if you come for Hajj with your mind set to face any problematic situation, you actually get through the troublesome part easily.

That night at Madinah was a bit unpleasant in another way, though. Our Hajj passes/Tasreeh had been delayed and we were to receive them from a man, Mr. Talha, in Madinah instead of Tabuk. This Talha failed to show up after Isha prayers at our hotel and my father got irritated when, on calling him up, he said he was visiting some friends with his mother somewhere in Madinah. My father began to lose his patience when the clock struck 10 pm and we lay in bed, hearing him talk loudly on the mobile phone. My head was buzzing due to lack of sleep and it didn’t help that my father was tossing and turning in the other bed, waiting for Talha to show up with our passes. Finally, after several calls, he showed up at 11:30 pm and handed over the required documents. People need to be more responsible in such matters, especially when time is short and many things can go wrong.

2006-01-15T20:24:00.000-08:00

Day 2: 6th January (6th Dhul-Hijj)
Towards Jeddah - Preparing for Mina

Having been short on sleep, everyone but Abba missed Fajr. On waking at 10 am, I found everyone preparing to enter into Ihram. Despite all efforts, by the time we were ready to leave, it was 12:20 pm, just about Zuhr time. The Pakistani restaurant wasn’t serving breakfast anymore as the time for Zuhr approached so that was a bit of a delay.

After Zuhr, we had a quick brunch during which I mostly had yoghurt. This was my practice throughout Hajj – whenever I could get a carton of Yoghurt or the Yoghurt drink Laban, I avoided spicy meals. Also, as perfect bathroom facilities were going to be rare, I also ate and drank little. All this really made me active during Hajj and not once, Alhamdolillah, did I feel suffer from stomach upsets or acidity.

Outside, taxi drivers and small private bus operators were calling pilgrims at bargain rates to Jeddah, Mina, Makkah. People in Ihram were visible everywhere… it felt like the world was being tuned out now. What else mattered? When we finally took the Madinah-Jeddah highway, it was about 2 pm. We were in great spirits (though I had some trouble with anger control whenever my sisters did something stupid… no anger, arguments during Ihram!) and the whole world seemed to be perfectly at peace. Even now, I wish I could relive that day. Thick, fluffy clouds spread over the sky, casting shadows in patches on the road.

There was a good amount of traffic. Understandably, the highway to Jeddah was quite busy, pilgrims had a day-and-a-half to get to Mina, and most weren’t wasting time. My excitement on seeing lots and lots of pilgrims in Ihram was still at it’s peak – it just felt great to see Muslims focusing their energies and time on Hajj – on worshipping and remembering Allah and for a while, I wished I could imagine the whole Muslim world was unified and strong (inshAllah).

People were traveling in all sorts of transport. There were the foreigners who had come by road in huge, powerful coasters… and the local Bedouin who had a good portion of their household stuff laden in their pickups and cars. It was peace… sitting back in the car and watching everyone headed in the direction of Makkah.

As we approached the checkpoint, there was a short queue, but it was being processed quite quickly. All you had to do was show your Tasreeh/Hajj pass and the policemen noted down the number of passengers traveling, and their nationalities. I had my video camera out all this time and I recorded everything… the policemen… the check post, and particularly, the groups of Hajis standing around. This is what I scribbled into my journal hastily at that time…

:: 3:10 pm, Madinah-Jeddah highway

For me, the real ‘Hajj spirit’ took birth just then… looking at buses and buses on Hajis and cars with luggage stacked on top. At the check post, bearded Mutawwaas (religious police) – handed us a pack on religious books and an audiocassette. A charity organization in Madinah was gifting the Hajis packs of snacks and a sixteen-bottle crate of mineral water. They were so generous with everything that we all automatically felt light-hearted and happy. What a good deed to perform, making Hajis happy with gifts!

At the check post, the in-charge glanced at our Hajj pass, noted our nationality and we were off.

The mountains (here I go again!) here on the highways, as I write this, are so beautiful in their in their bare, rocky feel. To someone who looks at photographs, they might appear to be the same as that on the Tabuk-Madinah highway but you have to be here, feel part of the land to know they are very different and unique in their own way.

These mountains invite a walk – no – they make me wish to just sit down upon them and cry… cry… for Allah, for the life after. They represent the finite nature of existence and thus, the hope for Jannah.

It is cloudy today and beams of sunlight shoot out from behind the cottony shapes, illuminating the landscape in patches and stripes. A little while earlier, I remarked, ‘It’s as if the whole view, and this beautiful landscape has been setup today for the entertainment of the Hajis, by Allah.’

The landscape is flattening now and I think I’ll sit back, close my eyes to attempt to store in memory, all that I feel right now.

:: 5:30 pm: 120 km from Jeddah

Wow! It’s just rained here on the highway for half-an-hour and Subhan-Allah what a pleasant view! It was so beautiful that I simply cannot describe it with justice.

The rain shower in the distance looks like a gray blanket or a sheer curtain across the mountains. The smell of rain on desert sand… vast expanses of desert! Water collecting in puddles, flowing beside the road or in small streams washing over rocks, which a short while ago were parched.

Okay, we’ve just arrived a check post and got into a long line of cars, Ah! The sea of white is such a pleasant sight. It’s here you feel most for the sorry state of the Ummah today. Such a pure and beautiful religion… in a beautiful setting, the region where it took birth, the Middle East.

I wish I could take all of this back to Pakistan. I wish I could share all this with everyone I know. I wish I could show you this land – through my eyes.

Many ambulances and police cars on standby are a good sign that the authorities are, indeed, continuously attempting to improve facilities and be ready for every contingency.

It’s Maghrib time and in another ten minutes, we’ll stop at some roadside mosque to offer prayers, inshAllah.

:: 9:20 pm – Jeddah

We arrived in Jeddah after Maghrib and after about an hour of driving through thick traffic, over and under uncountable flyovers, we finally found Kababish Restaurant where we just had dinner.

[It was actually slightly worrisome to me, when we couldn’t find the restaurant – we had to be at the Departure point fixed by our Hajj group at 12:00 am… Alhamdolillah, we found our way with a lot of time to spare.]

An old friend of Abba’s in Jeddah, Mazhar uncle, met us just now outside the restaurant, as planned, and we’re following him to his home. Our plan is to leave the care there, freshen up, offer Maghrib and Isha together. Mazhar uncle could then drive us to the departure point appointed by the Hajj group.

2006-01-14T20:19:00.000-08:00

Things beyond this point got so busy that I couldn’t write in my journal until much later. Here’s what happened:

The departure point, as we knew, was then just a five-minute drive away from Mazhar uncle’s place and he drove us there by 11:30 pm. Two big school buses were parked behind a market area, Minarah Market and we could see people arriving with their luggage.

Apparently, as most people in the group were from Jeddah, or within Saudi Arabia, there was not much confusion regarding the process and things went smoothly. The group co-coordinators went between buses with checklists to make sure everyone was on board.

People took their time in arriving, then there was some issue with the baggage as to where huge bags should be accommodated. Anyway, those problems were solved and by 1:00 am, reasonably sooner than was expected, the engines roared to life and we were finally moving!

Our bus, as we found, had an air-conditioning problem, and being school buses, the windows wouldn’t open much at all. It got a little stuffy but we had to bear with that with patience, hoping that the drive wouldn’t be long – although from what I had heard, it took several hours to get to Makkah.

Day 3: 7th January - 7th Dhul-Hijj)
Arrival in Mina (?!)

Abba, Amma and my sisters all were lucky enough to find themselves sleepy and enjoy a nap. My sleep deprivation kicked in, preventing any further sleep (yes, very weird) and I busied myself with filming things of interest on the video camera.

We stopped once or twice to coordinate with other buses owned by our Hajj group (Al-e-Yahya group). Packs of thick plain yogurt drink were distributed – it’s the best thing to have on Hajj, to keep the stomach in order. In Arabic, it’s called Laban.

By 2:30 am, we were at the check post and it was actually surprising to have got there so early. Admitted, yes, there were long lines of cars at the check post for Makkah but the process was quick. The security personnel for Hajj peeked into the buses, asked a few relevant questions, and we were cleared in ten minutes!

As you’d remember, we had thought the whole group would be going to Makkah, perform Umrah and then go on to Mina. But we forgot the fact that most people in our group were from Jeddah and they didn’t have to do Umrah of Hajj. They were performing Hajj-e-Ifrad, (as they resided within the Meeqat boundary). Thus, there was no need for the group to go to Makkah, they had always planned to leave for Mina.

This became clear to me when I saw our buses take the turn to Mina after the check post, and travel along the ring road bypassing Makkah. I decided not to wake my parents and worry them unnecessarily, and they woke as the buses entered Mina at 3:30 am.

.: Mina

Mina was quite different from what I had imagined it as – rather bare, with little organization. Whoa! It was a tent-city in itself, no wonder! The tents, quite stylish in themselves, were all planned and numbered with proper corridors. Being at ground level, I obviously couldn’t see all around Mina, as I would in aerial view so the thought of ‘thousands of people’ just didn’t make sense just then.

It felt like any ordinary night, except we’d now be living in tents, in a new experience. Our tents, thankfully, were by the road (running along one margin of Mina, Muzalifah and Arafat) and as we found later, they lay within the boundary of Muzdalifah, being in fact, outside Mina. This isn’t worrisome, as a small part of Muzdalifah adjoining Mina has been included in Mina as ‘New Mina’ by the scholars to accommodate the swelling numbers.

I was thoroughly fascinated by everything, the practical, fireproof tents that could be combined into a single huge one by removing the partitioning walls (all made of the same tent material). The tents even had air-conditioning and good lighting though the control switches can’t be reached without a stool but I suppose that’s just to make it childproof, etc.

We had four huge tents in our enclosure, two belonging to some South-Indians who had organized a sub-group under the Al-e-Yahya Muallim and two for our Indo-Pakistani group, again, a sub-group under Al-e-Yahya.

The tents contained rows upon rows of soft mattresses, pillows and soft cloth blankets. Ours, as we discovered, were right beside the doorway flap and as such, we soon got used to people walking across our feet, or stepping on our toes. In the subsequent hours, as people settled in, fathers and mothers had their usual exchanges (‘Please get me some tea,’ or, ‘Baby isn’t going to sleep, will you have him for a while?’, or, ‘Isn’t is nice here? Where’s the bathroom? Will you get us some snacks?’, or, ‘Is it time for Fajr yet?’ and even, ‘What will we be doing next?’). You can imagine that very well. He he. Then there was also the baby who cried all night, ‘Dey Dey Ammaaaaaaaaa!’ (‘Give it to me, Mother!’ But give him what?!) Anyway, he was our alarm-clock for Fajr prayer!

We made quick trips to the bathroom areas, discovered they were quite usable and not at all the sad state we had imagined. Every enclosure (like that of our group) had it’s own bathroom area so it wasn’t that the whole of Mina stood knocking at the stalls. In fact, we were quite relieved to see that the bathroom area EXISTED. Surprisingly, women, mostly South-Indian women, were already bathing their children, washing clothes, chatting, etc.

We offered Fajr prayers, and I was very happy to hear Abba’s voice from the tent for the men – he was leading the Fajr prayers! We had a family conference of sorts outside the tents after prayers and the decision was that we’d sleep until 12 pm, then leave for Makkah on some private transport, perform the Umrahs (two actually, one normal Umrah and another for Hajj – this was in case of Hajj-e-Qiran) and return to Mina to leave for Arafat the next morning.

After a breakfast of minced meat, bread, jam and Laban, we settled down for some sleep. Again (yes, again!) sleep evaded me as I tried to avoid my toes being stepped-on, or tried to shut out the sounds of crying kids. Then there were women who took sunrise as the cue to start socializing and some actually started sharing jokes – not a good thing considering you’re in Mina to start Hajj! There was also the air-conditioning issue – Chaudhri Sahib’s family did not want it turned on while the rest of the tent dwellers did… you can imagine what went on.

On top of it all, I realized that being by the main road of Mina had it’s own problems too – huge coasters, trucks, small cars, minibuses, vans, trailers all drove past… all night, and all day, so I soon learned how it must feel to live beside a highway. Anyway, no complaints – I’m just reporting. :)

Sleep came much, much later. I was woken for Zuhr and we started preparing to leave for Makkah. Our luggage would be safe in the tent, and we set off on foot to look for some transport. It was then that we realized how many people had entered Mina in those few hours we had been in the tent. The road, which was quite vacant at night, was now buzzing with traffic. Footpaths had been made camp by those performing Hajj without a Hajj group. Whole families had set up temporary homes wherever there was no traffic, on the sidewalks, on the hillside. Some had small camping tents, others just steps up a cover over sticks and rods, or tied shade-cloths to tree branches. It was fascinating!

.: To Makkah for Umrah

The day was warm and we walked on along the road in the direction of Makkah, looking for some suitable transport. One pickup driver agreed at a rate (quite hefty, as I found out later) and we all climbed in to head for the Masjid-ul-Haram, a few kilometers away. It was then that I felt sorry I wasn’t able to bring my video camera along to Makkah! As the road wound around the mountainside, the expanse of Mina lay to the right and that was when the ‘two and a half million’ started making sense! Tents upon tents, orderly arranged, as far as the eye could see, even along the sloping sides of the mountains bordering the Mina valley! It was a beautiful sight of white, interspersed with colored flecks here and there. The sky was a clear blue, the morning bright and Mina was at it’s best. Who cared about the rest of the world?

Another thing that cannot escape notice in Mina is the network of roads and flyovers laid down, crisscrossing each other. Most are used as walkways for pilgrims to facilitate one-way movement, especially in the Rami area. Despite all such facilities, accidents still happen and as you’ve probably heard, construction of a nine-story complex at the Rami area is underway, with improved traffic regulation, helipads, elevators, escalators, air-conditioning etc. to prevent mishaps.

As we arrived in Makkah, the driver chose the underground tunnel near the Haram to drop us off. Finding parking space was not feasible and we soon found ourselves beneath the Haram area, packed with pilgrims coming from and going to the Haram. As it was the last day for pilgrims to perform Umrah and head to Mina, last-moment pilgrims had flooded the area. We took the escalators to the ground level and emerged near the Haram.

It was a hot day and squeezing through the crowds, we entered the Masjid-ul-Haram. The scene was quite different from when I had visited in the summer for Umrah. For one thing, there were lots and lots of shoes and slippers in bags or simply lying open, near the entrances of the mosque. Some workers were constantly piling them into carts to take away – there was no choice, with the number of people entering continuously, there would soon be no proper space to walk.

As I said earlier, we had to perform two Umrah. We knew it was not an easy task, taking in mind the rush and that a single Umrah itself is a bit exhaustive, with all the walking barefoot on marble. I shouldn’t complain – it’s better than walking barefoot on sand and rocks! We started Tawaf, and it took longer than the usual twenty minutes – the Tawaf area was indeed very packed but we did the Tawaf while staying on the periphery. Sometimes, I’d just be drifting along, looking at the Ka’bah, or at the sky, or at other groups of people – especially cute little kids riding on their fathers’ shoulders (as I did when I was a kid :) ).

After performing two Raka’ah Nafil of Umrah, we headed for Sa’ee. It was the Sa’ee area that was clearly packed full. We decided to take the first floor and found it much better. Still, Sa’ee took a considerable amount of time and I think it was well past Zuhr when we completed Sa’ee. Frankly, I was quite exhausted by the time Sa’ee was over. You had to be careful about so many things in crowds, like the fact that a group of pilgrims might be hurrying past, pushing others, or simply keeping track of your own family members was a job. Also, the Sa’ee area is quite long and seven trips later, you wish to rest your heels properly.

We decided to take a break and build up our strength for the next Umrah. You could say that it was a testing time for us (except my father who seemed ready to perform the next one with ease) – we had slept little and all the walking had worn us out. My sister, Abeer, three years younger, and I were hovering over the idea that we’d perform the Sa’ee of the second Umrah at the end of Hajj, along with Tawaf-e-Ziyarah and Tawaf-e-Wid’aa. It’s funny when you think back to that time – every person in Makkah was eager to get to Mina quickly, people were stocking up on energy and the cafeterias were ‘going crazy’ trying to cope up with the rush. My father got us Shawarmas and he said that the shopkeepers had run out of supplies – ours had filled the Shawarmas with whatever he had left! We had our quick meal on the bare marble floor, like so many others around us – and it felt great when a generous pilgrim came by distributing orange juice packs.

Abba and Amma build up our courage and we prepared ourselves to go for the second Umrah. However, it was plain that my sisters and I wondered how we could ever complete the Umrah being as exhausted as we were then. Allah gave us strength and as we started our Umrah after Asar, we were quite done by Maghrib time, exhausted but happy. As we waited in a ladies’ prayer enclosure for the Iqamat of Maghrib Jama’at, it felt as if each bone were creaking, each joint making it’s presence felt. I even took a few winks of sleep and had to hurry for Wudhu at a nearby Zam-Zam drink area.

Our ‘reward’ for performing both Umrahs on that hectic day, was large cups of ice cream at our favorite cafeteria on Ajyad Street, just opposite the Baab-e-Abdul Aziz (Abdul-Aziz gate). We stuffed our rumbling stomachs with large spoonfuls of creamy, frosty ice cream.

Next, it was a hunt for an economical ride back to our camp in Mina. Various 4-wheel drives and minivans owned by local Saudis were parked along the Ajyad road, with their drivers roaming around, calling out their rates loudly – ‘Mina, Mina, Ishreen riyaal!’ (Twenty riyal per head). The cheapest mode of travel was the large truck with simple grills on the back and no roof – get to Mina in five riyals and enjoy a great ride!

.: Back to Mina

We got into a minivan and as soon as it was full, we set off for Mina. There was some degree of a traffic jam on the main Mina road, passing by the palaces. It was understandable as most pilgrims were already in the valley, occupying the footpaths and roads too. Exhausted, we finally arrived in our camp, dug up the energy to offer Isha prayer, had a quick dinner of chicken curry and bread (with yogurt, of course) and lay down to sleep. It was 11 pm, and we had to leave for Arafat immediately after Fajr.

Kids in our tent were, as usual, having the time of their lives, running around even at midnight. Either that or they were wailing! We got used to that, though, as there was a long day ahead – the day of Hajj. Who knew what it had in store for us?

2006-01-13T20:22:00.000-08:00

Day 4: Youm-e-Arafat (Day of Arafat)
(8th January - 8th Dhul-Hijj)

I woke an hour before Fajr, just five hours of sleep, and the first thing that came to mind was that we must prepare for leaving quickly. That meant only one thing – the washrooms! We figured it was the best time to make our trips to the washrooms when most people in the camp were asleep or there would be too much of a rush later on. Even so, the ever-present Sri Lankan women were washing and bathing their kids even at that hour – past 3 am! But I guess I should be wrong here… in Hajj, there’s no real concept of night and day – and besides, the kids were bathing for Arafat! :)

We made Wudhu, prayed Tahajjud, had an earlier breakfast and offered Fajr prayer as soon as it was time to do so. I had the impression, from what I had seen in TV, that a great crowd of people would be setting out and kept my cameras ready. Everything was becoming exciting again – we wouldn’t be returning to Mina until the next morning and some small items were necessary to take along – still, it turned out to be quite a lot of baggage.

:: Waiting for the buses

There was news that the buses would soon arrive and we should wait on the pavement on the other side of the main road. Everyone hauled their baggage across the road and sat on the curb, and watched as the world passed by. It indeed felt like the world was passing by – people of every nationality – Africans, Chinese, Indians, Pakistanis, Arabs, Turks, Indonesians – went by in groups, chanting, ‘Labbayk, Labbayk Allahumma Labbayk!’ with one person in the front carrying a pole with some mark of identification (like an empty bottle or simply a polythene bag) for the group to follow.

The sun rose, peeping out from behind the mountains. There was news that our buses were some distance ahead in Muzdalifah, parked under a bridge and were having difficult getting to us. We waited and waited. It was around 8 am and our stomachs started rumbling, having had bread, butter and jam (very quick to digest) for breakfast before Fajr. Our organizers seemed to be communicating with their partners on mobile phones yet there was some problem.

As it was mandatory to get to Arafat before Zawaal (decline of the Sun from the Meridian), some people were becoming increasingly concerned with the situation. Some were considering walking to the bridge to board the buses, others were wondering about walking the whole way. It would be difficult for the old people and children. Soon, it became clear that walking to the bridge was necessary.

:: Looking for the buses

We set off, walking at a good pace and the bridge soon appeared, around a kilometer-and-half away. Our group sort of lost track of each other, and some people had chosen to wait for the buses at the camp, so it became a rather mixed-up scenario when we arrived at the bridge along with another family, and found… no buses! What was silly was, since our buses were school buses, and several of those were waiting around, we were actually mistaken several times. ‘There they are! There they are! Oh… no, that’s not them…’

The way had cleared quite a bit as it was now around 9 am and locals were driving past, calling out ‘Arafat, Arafat!’ I suppose they wondered what we were doing roaming around when we should be headed for Arafat! The mobile phones helped in a way that we at least knew where the organizer was. He kept telling us the buses would soon be arriving at the camp instead, and then would drive by the same road, picking us up at the bridge.

We sat down on the grass by the road. Waiting was a difficult job, especially when the area was rapidly clearing of people. The family that had come with us made a few calls to the organizers, then, at 10 am, they got into one of the local vans driving around, off to Arafat. We decided to head back to camp – it was worrisome and frustrating to an extent, though we didn’t want any of those feelings to mar our Hajj. Dragging the luggage along, two hours after we had set off from camp, we again made to return to it. It felt weird, walking in the opposite direction from Arafat.

About halfway there, we spotted familiar faces by the roadside – our own group members – and thankfully joined them. The buses were expected in fifteen minutes. Nobody seemed very happy – Mina and Muzdalifah were almost cleared of pilgrims, except for us. Finally, the buses arrived around 10:30 am and expressing their own opinions about the delay and lack of management, everyone got in to resume the trip. We drove through Muzdalifah, a large area dotted only with electricity poles and washroom areas apart from the roads. It would be our stop during the night.

:: To Arafat

As we neared Arafat, someone mentioned the Nahr-e-Zubaidah (Stream/Canal of Zubaidah). Zubaidah was the wife of Khalifah Haroon Rashid and it was under her supervision that centuries ago, a canal had been constructed carrying water from what is now central-eastern Saudi Arabia (Najd) to Arafat, to supply water for the pilgrims, a great issue at that time. The important thing was that we were driving alongside a small mountain that had remains of those original canal walls along its slopes and people shared the story as we marveled at the simplicity of the structure still existent today.

Just before the boundaries of Arafat, traffic was jammed and it took around half an hour for us to reach the boundary of the valley. Again, I was expecting to see the place swarming with people but it’s really in an aerial view that you see that, as on TV. Large yellow boards, on pillars, all around points of entry into Arafat say, ‘Arafat starts here’ or ‘Arafat ends here’ on the other side of the board. At around 11:15 am, we were in the large parking lot of Arafat, Alhamdolillah.

The parking lot was huge and still had quite a lot of space unoccupied. Thus, our buses were parked and we stepped onto Arafat ground. If you’re imagining that I was in some kind of great awe and wonder at being in such a holy place, I’m sorry to disappoint you and at the same time, I feel guilty myself! The significance of the land escaped me for the greater part of that day, as our minds were engaged in assembling and getting to our tents. Also, there weren’t many people in the parking lot and we headed for the gates to the organized tent area. Arafat isn’t allowed to have any fixed or permanent construction for residing in. Thus, generally, simple tents of cloth are used, or at the most, those made of a better quality material like plastic, with the added features of air-conditioning, etc. But everything is temporary.

We joined the crowd as soon as we got in through the gates. Here, there were many, many people on the road along with huge buses and coasters making way to their camps. Our organizer, Mr. Kaleemullah, located his Saudi boss, the actual Muallim, and as a group, we were to follow them to our tent camp. It wasn’t as easy as it seemed, and I’m not saying that the difficulty in walking the distance was because of the people on the road – it was because of the huge coasters. Sometimes, two coasters were so close together, and we’d almost squeeze through the gap between them. Often the gap further narrowed and it was a little worrisome to hurry between two towering coasters or double-deckers.

The distance we had to walk wasn’t small either! We were on the main road and as we walked on, an overhead signboard indicated ‘Lane 1’ branching off as side roads to the left and right. It also read, ‘Lanes 2,3,4,5… ahead’ with an arrow. We were to walk to lane 5 and each lane was separated by 500m. You can imagine that it was quite a lot of walking to do, having already done a good deal of walking since the morning. Again, I’m not complaining, just getting the facts across – a prospective Haji must be aware that Hajj is indeed a test of conviction and strength in the face of trials and tribulations. Complaining and whining will only waste your Hajj. :)

Zigzagging in the traffic, stopping often to regroup, we finally arrived at lane 5 to find that we had now to walk a further distance down that lane to reach our camp. All the way, we had seen pilgrims going to their own camps, or squatting down beside their coasters. Some trucks were actually food trucks and packets of juice or fruits were being distributed to the pilgrims by tossing them from the top. Quite thirsty and hungry from the day’s excursion (about 6-7 km already), I really longed to have one of those tangy juices just then. But we couldn’t stop yet.

It was around 1 pm when we finally reached camp. The camp itself wasn’t paved and the floor was of gravel. There were many cloth tents mounted on simple wood poles, separated further into men and women’s areas. Inside the tent, a simple thick carpet on the ground made it suitable to sit on. We passed the South Indians’ tents, who had arrived much earlier by way of their own buses – they really were very planned and efficient.

I’ve always loved such simple tents as were in Arafat, as they symbolize traditional Arab lifestyle so perfectly. However, I soon learned it was quite hot in the tent and my (over)efficient mother (just joking) immediately set out to try to open a flap in the roof to let in some air. It might have been embarrassing if the tent had fallen flat because of her tugging. :) We located the washrooms, an almost similar unit to the ones in Mina and were quite pleased that everything seemed fine.

After offering Zuhr and Asr prayers together, as is the ruling, I did realize that the main point of being in Arafat was Ibadah. However, we were terribly hungry by then and the heat and all the walking since Fajr had tired us out. Lunch was expected soon, presented by the Muallim (or perhaps the King himself, as it is said that he arranges the supply of Arabian rice and meat – Mandi or Kabsa – for the pilgrims on Arafat day) and my sisters and I lay down on the humble floor. Hunger, heat and lack of sleep manifested itself just then and we had short naps. On waking, there was still no lunch. It was 3 pm.

We walked around outside the tent, often to communicate with Abba on the other side. We could hear sounds of a Khutba/Sermon – the Khutbah of Arafat Day from the Namrah Mosque, not visible from our location. In the neighboring tents, the South Indians had indigenously organized a Dua/Khutbah session. Infact, many South Indian women stood silently in prayer, making Duas in an open space between our tents. As any Nawafil prayer is disallowed during Arafat Day, pilgrims can only make Duas/prayers. I felt quite guilty of just roaming around waiting for lunch while others were busy in prayers.

In our tent, some women were busy in prayer, some in talking and some in sleeping, like me. :( Lunch arrived around 3:30 pm in the form of large flat dishes full of warm rice and whole chicken – four in each dish. Each dish was for four persons and the food was more than ample. Infact, when we had had our fill, there was much left over. After lunch, I did pray off and on but generally it was all silent Duas, whatever I could think of, what everyone had told me to pray for them, or simply reading the Quran.

I knew Maghrib time was approaching. We would be leaving Arafat for Muzdalifah so half the mind was occupied with that thought. On the other hand, there seemed to be some form of resentment towards our organizer, Mr. Kaleemullah. Our lunch had been late, and there was no arrangement for tea or any drinks except water. The South-Indians had planned well and had already supplied their group with plenty of juices and flavored milk. They had also been sure to supply tea. It was not ungratefulness on our group’s part, but rather, an observation that there seemed to be a lack of management and some ‘corner-cutting’ in the manner of refreshments and meal.

As Maghrib approached and the tents darkened, prayers automatically formed in the heart. Time was running out. This was it. This was the Hajj. I didn’t hear the sound of Maghirb Azan but as the time came, we could hear the sure sound of traffic. The sun had set and people were getting ready to leave. Maghrib payers would be offered along with Isha in Muzdalifah.

The Traffic Jam at Arafat

We emerged from our tents and learned that there was a traffic jam again, and it couldn’t be blamed on anybody. There were just too many buses and coaches in the valley and they just couldn’t speed through the exits. Darkness set across the valley and the lights went on. The moon was shining beautifully in its peaceful setting in the sky.

Conflicting reports came in through the men. The buses in the parking lots hadn’t even moved yet. All the roads are jammed. Food supplies around the camp are scanty. It might be hours before we move. The only food available is that leftover from lunch. There was no arrangement for dinner in Arafat.

Unfortunately, I’m easily worried by small things. Being an uncertain situation, I was quite concerned. Still, there was water available and the washrooms were functioning well. There was only the wait, the potentially long wait, perhaps even until after Isha time before we could leave Arafat. What about dinner? My sisters and I, along with a few other people, took some of the lunch platters around the women, to see if anyone was hungry. My father went out to get some cold drinks but returned unsuccessful, saying that the stocks at portable cafeterias nearby were exhausted. Some generous people managed to procure snacks and cold drinks and handed them to the ladies to be distributed.

In such a situation, some women were actually showing an arrogant attitude, taking the snacks without any care for where they had come from, or turning away the lunch-meal with ungratefulness. It was sad, considering the conditions. On the other side, the men were grumbling amongst themselves about the lack of supplies. It became evident that our organizer hadn’t prepared for such a contingency at all, in an obvious attempt to save money, while the South-Indian organizers had – they’d already supplied their people with pre-prepared snack boxes and those people were in turn kindly sharing them with us. As we waited for news of the buses, the other group was busy counting its members and tallying them on a checklist. It became embarrassing for our group to be in such a low level of preparation.

Inside the tents, the darkness was like an uncomfortable blanket and outside, there was nothing to do but stroll around in concern. I must have made a dozen trips into and out of the tent. It was past Isha time when we finally got news that the buses would arrive soon and that traffic was moving better now. We gathered our things, and relieved to hear good news, emerged from the tents. Families waited around the gate of our tent camp, hoping to catch sight of the buses. Large coasters were still driving past our tent, honking their horns loudly.

We finally learnt around 9:30 pm, that the buses were parked some distance away and we had to get to that point ourselves. Since there was still heavy traffic on the roads, we came to be organized in small groups to get to the buses. Squeezing between buses or crossing the road in front of towering coasters, all wanting to get to Muzdalifah as quickly as possible, wasn’t easy and we were very grateful on seeing the buses around fifteen minutes later. There were hardly any pilgrims walking around in Arafat – just the sounds of buses and coasters on the main lanes.

It was past 10 pm when we started for Muzdalifah. Tiredness was setting in but there was that anticipation of things to come – staying in Muzdalifah under the open sky! Little did we know that new things, unexpected and never-before type events and incidents were lying in store for us in the coming hours and days.

The buses slowly made their way out of Arafat, following a continuous line of coasters and buses. The organizers gave out snack packs and oranges – they’d had all that in a minivan in Arafat’s parking lot but hadn’t been able to get it to our camp, they explained. I didn’t know what to believe by then. Cutting expenses seemed to be some sort of central principle. Anyway, no complaints.

:: Traffic Jam before Muzdalifah

I already felt we’d be quite late reaching Muzdalifah, around 11 or half past 11 pm perhaps. The highway between Arafat and Mina hadn’t any streetlights turned on, for unknown reasons and it was dark except for the lights of cars and buses are around us. Traffic was moving so slowly that we’d move a few meters, and then stop for a long while.

It was a four-lane road that we were on, and there was the parallel road separated by some fifty feet – both roads were packed with traffic, moving very little. Sometimes, we’d see the traffic on the other road move, and hope to move too. It was half-past 11 pm when we saw the glow of street lights further ahead, signaling that Muzdalifah might be near.

Children in our bus, as well as adults, were exhausted and irritated. As coasters packed closely all around were moving very little, all the diesel exhaust in the atmosphere, coupled with a dysfunctional air-conditioning system in our bus, made for a hot, humid environment full of diesel fume. We were sweating, and it was suffocative. We’d open the windows to let in some air, or breath some, but were mostly greeted with more and more fumes. The coasters around us had their air-conditioning on full-blast, relaxing in plush seats while our school buses sandwiched in between were having a bad time. I’d eagerly watch for the second bus in our group, right ahead of us, to move, signaling the flow of traffic. But all that was exciting was being able to move a few meters after every fifteen minutes.

People began to ask what was wrong. When would we get to Muzdalifah? For a while, traffic began flowing slowly, but soon after that, it came to a complete stop. One of our organizers got off to find out the source of the problem. Even the driver put the engine into neutral and went out to find the trouble – the hum of the engine was suffocating in itself. The answer was that traffic was blocked a long, long way ahead, all the way up to Muzdalifah. The news was that, ‘Either it’ll clear up in twenty minutes, or it’ll stay like this for hours.’

It was past 12 am. Some people began talking of going off on foot and indeed, someone from the second bus did set off on foot. I was seriously exhausted and saturated with sticky fumes by then and wanted to just get off the bus, into the open desert air. There was reluctance. How could we just set off into the night? We were told that there were streetlights visible after some distance; it was a half-hour walk at the most. People began to mention these things, probably hoping for someone to take the lead! I was ready to jump out of my seat!

The last straw was when we heard that the person who had set off earlier, had already reached Muzdalifah at 12:30 am! Besides, we also saw groups of Hajis walking on between the coasters. Wait a minute, the last straw wasn’t the person who had reached Muzdalifah – it was the sight of the drivers in the coaster beside us – they were snoring in their seats with their mouths open! Snoring!

People in our bus began getting up, gathering their things. Abba, and one or two other men agreed that the best thing to do was to set off together with their families. It suddenly got very, very exciting. I mean, walking along a dark highway towards Muzdalifah – I wasn’t at all unhappy! Besides, getting out of that hot and sticky environment was most important.

Setting off in the dark towards Muzdalifah

As soon as we stepped onto the road, it became evident that it wasn’t going to be easy to navigate in the darkness. The coasters around us were towering and rumbling loudly. As people began to get off, I, personally, had the idea that everyone willing to leave the bus should go on together, in a single group. Also, some people were taking longer to get off, so it turned into a mixed-up situation, as I’d shuttle in and out of the bus to see if all those who had decided to leave with us, were indeed off. On the other hand, the elders seemed to be focusing on getting their families together, some felt little need to stay together. Call me stupid, but I tried to do what I felt I was right. We’d already had a mix up in the morning, we couldn’t afford another one at this time of the night.

However, looking back at that time today, I’ve realized that in Hajj, you do get separated, and if you have an idea of where to go, you eventually do meet up with the rest. This is exactly what happened in our Hajj too.

Back to our situation in Muzdalifah. We began to find our way onto the side of the highway. Pilgrims were treading the sands in the direction of Muzdalifah and it soon became difficult to distinguish family members in the darkness. Another thing that we discovered was that there was little space beside the highway to walk. Next to the highway was a narrow strip of desert (about fifteen feet across) to walk on - which was already quite crowded - and then a seasonal canal dug in case of floods. Further on was the dark outline of the hills. As the canal was dry, people slid down it’s sides, a depth of about ten feet and chose to walk on the paved bed.

There was several couples amongst us, some families with little kids. It became difficult to walk ahead in a single line in the darkness. Often, when we were in the lead, we’d stop to see if everyone was close by or my own family would fall behind and I’d stop to make sure they were there. In such a situation, when people begin to mutter and complain about having to wait for their fellow-beings, or they show selfish attitudes, caring only for their own safety, it makes me wonder what the world has come to. I guess the thought, ‘we’re in this together’, comes to few people now.

:: Walking in a canal!

When the narrow strip of land between the highway and the canal bank became too crowded to walk on in the darkness, we decided to walk on the canal bed instead. Ha ha, it was absolutely unimaginable that we’d be walking in a dry canal at 1 am, between Arafat and Muzdalifah. Anyhow, walking became easier and we soon saw the lights of Muzdalifah, around a further kilometer or so ahead. Some in our group were of the opinion of offering the Qasr prayers where we were, instead of moving on – they said we were quite in Muzdalifah. But others, including my father, wanted to get to the boundary of Muzdalifah, indicated by large signboards ahead.

Alhamdolillah, we were soon within Muzdalifah and all the men began the task of helping their families up the canal slope again, which was quite steep and as such, was difficult to ascend. We walked onwards and it suddenly became evident that the result of that traffic jam had had several consequences. Because the buses hadn’t been able to go far ahead, many of the two-and-a-half million Hajis had settled in the closest areas of the Muzdalifah valley. As far as the eye could see, there were pilgrims and pilgrims – men, women, children… everyone! Most had simply spread blankets on the uneven ground and gone off to sleep.

It became difficult for the group to stay together as people tried to find their way through narrow gaps between sleeping Hajis and over large boulders interspersed here and there. It seemed like some great mess, a total failure of all planning and organization – no policeman was in sight. Still, people seemed to have adapted to the situation and most were just bent upon spending the night.

:: Two square meters of land

We tried to find a reasonable amount of ground space and finally, with the group completely disbanded, my family and another one, managed to spread our blankets on roughly two square meters of land! Six women and their baggage on that bit of space! We were squeezed between two groups of Africans, sleeping soundly. It was then that we got to a chance to offer Maghrib and Ishaa, in turns, with our feet on rocky ground and foreheads resting on pebbles during prostration. It was an entirely different experience, offering prayers on bare earth! And it was amazing!

I looked around, even at the distant mountains, illuminated by the light posts, and there were people on the slopes too, high up! It was a sea of people, bulging and wide, turning the mountains white! Interspersed among the people were bathroom stalls at several intervals, apparently being in great demand at that time. There was also a certain demand for food and drink, to which a small cafeteria in the middle of that ocean of people seemed to be catering to. And on both sides of this valley were roads with their buses and coaches all stationary. What a scene!

It was about 2 am when we started collecting pebbles for the Rami. While I was still wondering about what to do next, Amma asked me to take an elderly aunty along to the washrooms. Now that proved to be a challenge. When we finally managed to step over sleeping people and get to the closest facility, the first thing I thought was, ‘I can’t do this. It’s no use even trying!’ The washrooms had stalls on each side of a central wall, one side for the men and the other for women, each with a small Wudhu area on the side. The men, outnumbering women, had also taken up two of the women’s stalls on the other side. But while the men had arranged themselves into ordered rows, each waiting their turn, the women had no sense of discipline, I’m sorry to say. Each stall we tried had a pack of women jostling and fighting for the first turn. You couldn’t even try to penetrate them, and it would be much more difficult for an elderly lady.

It was hopeless. I returned to Amma and asked her to try. We set off again but even Amma seemed confused – also, it was easier for me, as a youngster, to manage to get through the crowd. The aunty with me thought of trying to struggle for her turn too but she just couldn’t, being old and frail – and it wasn’t right either.

:: An unexpected job!

What happened next, I couldn’t ever imagine doing before that day. I had no idea neither had I planned anything – how could anyone plan to do anything in that rush? This is what happened: I was all for returning but something really had to be done. It was then that I looked up a stall with the least number of women struggling at the door – five – and they were mostly Pakistani. I asked them if it would be better to organize to which they said, ‘You do it after we leave.’

So, I ascended the single step to the stall of the washroom and slowly, as each woman left, I stopped further women from plunging into the fight, rather made them form a queue. Most women who came were willing to push me aside and do things the quick way but Allah gave me strength then, I think, and slowly, even the elderly lady with me managed to get into a queue. That should have been enough, and we’d go back to our families but it didn’t happen like that.

Alhamdolillah, Alhamdolillah, Allah chose for me to stay there… I couldn’t even move, I didn’t get the chance. Some simply had no decency for the queue and barged in upon the door! To this, the women waiting in line would plead to me to stop the infiltration! The job had only begun and it wasn’t as easy as it seemed. As soon as the queue formed, complex issues arose. Before I knew it, I’d become sort of mediator, some sort of authority on who’d be the next one to go in. At that time, Abeer (my sister, who also joined in to help) and I didn’t get a moment to reflect on what was happening. We lost sense of time! At one point, I was busy dealing with two women, while another dispute arose elsewhere – it was one big mess!

Countless disputes arose. A young Arab teenage boy got into line and the women started shooing him away. He kept pleading with them to let him go, as he had some ‘stomach problem’, he said in half-English, half-Arabic. The case was delegated to me (of all people! :S). Knowing little Arabic, I started speaking in English, which silenced the women around us. It was weird! Result: we agreed to let the boy go first, considering his age.

There were other cases, like an old, frail woman who ran up to the door and started crying, beating her forehead, apparently in much pain and trouble. She sat down beside the door, and the women in the queue pleaded with me to not let her break through the line! It was unimaginable, being put to the forefront of a ‘bathroom battle’ but quick diplomacy and repetitions of ‘Sabr! Sabr!’ worked and the old woman was given a chance.

Then there were three Saudi girls who giggled and didn’t feel like getting into a line but when I pointed out that my own sister was in line, they were very amazed and reluctantly got in themselves. Later, they were even more surprised on seeing me join the same line, some women behind them. It was fun, seeing everyone’s expressions… a lot of fun.

Then there were the hard nuts… like one Arab woman with tribal tattoos/markings on her face. She was short and plump, with a firm mouth and stern expressions. All of us women exhausted ourselves trying to get her into line, but she didn’t move an inch! There was nothing left to do that talk to the others to let her go in… it was amusing, some women muttered but the old Arab woman got her way and left.

I can’t talk of the situation without mentioning three lovely Sri Lankan women who were so generous that they let in several hard nuts, and a genuine case before taking their own turns. I had fun talking to them, especially in the matter of the hard nuts that tried to barge in!

I don’t know what you people make of this but the situation was very, very different from normal times. It became a struggle for survival in which all sort of women, Indian, Pakistani, Sri Lankan, Afghani, Saudi, Irani had to be dealt with in whatever bits of language, or sign language, I could use. Abeer would monitor the front of the line while I made sure the rear was in order. People all around were looking at the scenes at our stall but I tried to ignore that – I knew even men were looking over, and it wouldn’t be easy if I started to pay attention to that too. It was taking every bit of effort and attention to convince people to go back and join the lines.

While efforts had not yet started bearing fruit, Amma had come to see what I was up to and she’d angrily told me to come back and that it was no use. I told her it’d be okay and around half-an-hour later, Abeer told me to look out at the fringe of the crowd assembled – and I could see my parents, very happy, proud and amused. It felt great. It felt great to have been used by Allah to benefit people in some way – and people had indeed benefited. Frail women got a just chance too and were very happy as they left!

When I got into line myself, I was exhilarated on seeing that neighboring stalls had followed example! There were lines all around!

When my sister and I finally managed to get to the Wudhu area, it was Fajr time. Finding that no space had been left for women to make Wudhu, I stood alongside the last tap in a row to wait for a man to finish, and then I’d have my turn. The man told me, in understandable Arabic, ‘Go to the women’s area.’

I think I was on an adrenaline high. I said, in simple Arabic, ‘There are men on the other side too.’ He was stupid enough to say, ‘Go tell a policeman’. I think I’d had enough. ‘Where do you see a policeman here?!’ I demanded. Finally, he moved aside, I quickly made Wudhu and got back to our tiny bit of squatting space.

:: Leaving for Mina

There was just enough time to offer Fajr and we started packing to leave. Our camp in Mina was another three-and-a-half kilometers or so away and we had to set off before sunrise. In excellent spirits, I set off with me family, with my camera on, along the road to Mina. During our time in Muzdalifah, the traffic jam had been cleared up and policemen had appeared (out of nowhere) to monitor the situation. He he.

We walked through Muzdalifah, on and on, and everywhere, there was trash overflowing waste bins and lying on the street. There is just too much rubbish to manage in this rush. People had moved on from these areas and finally, with a few stops, we got back to our camp in Mina after over an hour of walking. Breakfast was served and we all dropped off to sleep, exhausted to the last bits.