Before I close this blog, I'd like to postulate some theories about the future of the Muslim community in the Bay Area. Upon reflection, it's apparent that there will be three Muslim power bases in the Bay Area: the Santa Clara Valley, the Tri-Valley in the East Bay and the Peninsula. Noticeably absent is San Francisco. Folks not from the Bay Area, you have to understand, we don't call it the San Francisco Bay Area because of the city, we call it that because of the San Francisco Bay. San Francisco is an economic wasteland; when the biggest industry is tourism, it's hard to take it seriously (may be some South Bay bias shining through, but whatever). The communities in the aforementioned geographic areas are diverse, blessed with wealth and a good representation of moderate Islam. I believe mosques like MCA (Santa Clara), MCC-East Bay (Pleasanton) and the Yaseen Foundation (Belmont) are best poised to be the premier Muslim institutions in the Bay Area.
Nothing against ethnically homogenous small mosques, because it's their right to be as such, but frankly, they're not equipped to deal with a 9/11-like event. When 9/11 happened, those moderate mosques lead by eloquent men and women fared the best in terms of PR; the ethnic mosques whose leaderships barely speak English or don't welcome half the population (women) do nothing to assuage the fears of a population largely ignorant of Islam. I'm sad to say we don't live in a world where Muslims can simply practice their faith; in addition to that, it is incumbent on us to explain our faith to others to fight misconceptions which can lead to hatred.
Okay, enough preaching. Before I finish, I must point out I am not representative of all Bay Area Muslims, but I like to think I'm at least not unrepresentative of Bay Area Muslims.
This is going to be the last time I do this. It's far too mentally, emotionally and physically exhausting and there were times when I was running on spiritual fumes to keep going. What recharged me were the truly amazing mosques who blew me out of the water with their communities.
So what is the future of 30 mosques projects? What I'd really like to see is a girl take a stab at this. My "friendliness to women" category was one of my most well-received sections, but short of me putting on a burka and sneaking into the women's section, it never had a chance to capture the female perspective. I don't imagine many fathers would be happy about their daughters traipsing through East Oakland (as an example) but it's something worth thinking about.
This really has been a blast, though, and I couldn't have done it without the support of my family and friends. All my insiders, please know that I appreciate each and every one of you. To my editorial board, thanks for the suggestions and keeping the posts in check. To my parents, thank you for instilling in me Islamic values which undoubtedly played a huge role in me embarking on this project in the first place.
A Merry Eid to all and to all a good night. Thank you for reading.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Muslim Community Association of the San Francisco Bay Area (Santa Clara)
It's fitting that the first mosque I visited in 2010 was MCA, and I'm wrapping up this quest with a final blurb about my beloved hometown masjid. Last night was the 29th night of Ramadan, the night MCA finishes the Quran in taraweeh. They are the only large mosque in the area which wraps up on the 29th (all others finish on the 27th) so the masjid always, always gets packed with people desirous of catching a khatam with Sheikh Jibreel. I've never really seen it this crowded, though:
The hall pictured above can hold 1,000 people. The women's hall directly behind me I believe can hold a little more than 500 people. There were men and women praying in the community hall to the left of me, and in the annex to the right. I think it's reasonable to say that around 3,000 people were in attendance. Folks who claim 10,000 people were here last night are Glenn-Becking their numbers. Given that the largest hall in the building can hold (only) 1,000 people, how on earth could 10,000 people have been here last night?
I came here last night because it had been too long since I'd heard Sheikh Jibreel and his famous khatam (you can only hear it in-person, he disallows recordings). It's also been a very long Ramadan for me and I needed to finish this quest in a place where I felt at home. I am grateful to the rising stars (Belmont, Pleasanton and San Ramon) for fostering environments which made me feel comfortable, but there's nothing quite like your childhood mosque.
When I look at this men's prayer hall, I don't just see the minbar and mihrab in the right corner. I see the workout room with punching bags which used to be in its place before the remodeling project, and whose industrial-grade carpet gave me rug burn. Looking to the left, I see the old loading dock, with its cold tile floor and filthy walls, which is now a banquet hall where many of my friends have shackled balls and chains to their feet. Down the hall is the women's restroom into which I was ushered as a child when I split my head open on a file cabinet. I have literally spilled blood, sweat and tears here.
If you read through my archives, you'll see I'm at times being hard on MCA, but it's because I love this place that I'm so critical of it. Every time I saw something wonderful and replicable in another mosque, I wondered why the MCA wasn't doing it. I also felt a stab of frustration every time I perceived a misstep by the mosque leadership. However, I never meant to discredit their work, because if you know what I know and what the community had to go through to even get this place built, you'd know they always have the best intentions in mind.
This place would not function without volunteers, and I don't mean just the leadership, who I can assure you are not paid for their service. Last night the volunteer corps blew me away; here was a cadre of people willingly sacrificing their ability to pray taraweeh to ensure 3,000 or so eager worshippers would all get a chance to enjoy the beautiful taraweeh. Without their support, I can assure you folks' third-world instincts would have taken over and fire code violations would have been the least of the masjid's problems. May God bless everyone who put in even one hour to help make this Ramadan possible.
Two of dozens of shoe shelves in the building. I'm most impressed by the fact that there aren't shoes all over the place, though that may be because of the volunteers' vigilance.
Welcome to the largest prayer hall in the Bay Area.
The hall pictured above can hold 1,000 people. The women's hall directly behind me I believe can hold a little more than 500 people. There were men and women praying in the community hall to the left of me, and in the annex to the right. I think it's reasonable to say that around 3,000 people were in attendance. Folks who claim 10,000 people were here last night are Glenn-Becking their numbers. Given that the largest hall in the building can hold (only) 1,000 people, how on earth could 10,000 people have been here last night?
I came here last night because it had been too long since I'd heard Sheikh Jibreel and his famous khatam (you can only hear it in-person, he disallows recordings). It's also been a very long Ramadan for me and I needed to finish this quest in a place where I felt at home. I am grateful to the rising stars (Belmont, Pleasanton and San Ramon) for fostering environments which made me feel comfortable, but there's nothing quite like your childhood mosque.
When I look at this men's prayer hall, I don't just see the minbar and mihrab in the right corner. I see the workout room with punching bags which used to be in its place before the remodeling project, and whose industrial-grade carpet gave me rug burn. Looking to the left, I see the old loading dock, with its cold tile floor and filthy walls, which is now a banquet hall where many of my friends have shackled balls and chains to their feet. Down the hall is the women's restroom into which I was ushered as a child when I split my head open on a file cabinet. I have literally spilled blood, sweat and tears here.
If you read through my archives, you'll see I'm at times being hard on MCA, but it's because I love this place that I'm so critical of it. Every time I saw something wonderful and replicable in another mosque, I wondered why the MCA wasn't doing it. I also felt a stab of frustration every time I perceived a misstep by the mosque leadership. However, I never meant to discredit their work, because if you know what I know and what the community had to go through to even get this place built, you'd know they always have the best intentions in mind.
This place would not function without volunteers, and I don't mean just the leadership, who I can assure you are not paid for their service. Last night the volunteer corps blew me away; here was a cadre of people willingly sacrificing their ability to pray taraweeh to ensure 3,000 or so eager worshippers would all get a chance to enjoy the beautiful taraweeh. Without their support, I can assure you folks' third-world instincts would have taken over and fire code violations would have been the least of the masjid's problems. May God bless everyone who put in even one hour to help make this Ramadan possible.
Bay Area Cultural Connections (Sunnyvale)
There is nothing to indicate on the center’s website that there are prayers held here. Likewise, as you enter the center, there are no architectural features to indicate that this is a mosque. For these reasons, I apologize in advance if I’m blowing the lid off of a well-kept secret: there are religious Turks in the Bay Area, and they have centers in Sunnyvale, Burlingame and Albany (all three of these centers’ addresses were posted on the wall, so it’s not like I did any serious detective work).
Before I continue, I’d like to inform you, if I may, that back in college I spent a semester abroad in Ankara, Turkey. There, I learned many things (or so I told my parents), but two that come to mind in this context are most of the students I met were not religious and the prayer space on campus was primarily frequented by the support staff of the university. The vast majority of students I met, in fact, had a disdain for religion, although a lot of them did worship a god and his name was Ataturk.
It was because of the secularism I observed in my semester abroad that I wasn’t too surprised by the way the center was run. Maghrib rolled around and while nobody started eating before sunset, it was not like a masjid where folks eat a little to break their fast, pray and then get back to dinner. No, folks started lining up at the buffet tables and eating dinner as soon as the sun had sunk below the horizon, and if you wanted to pray, you went into a side room where an admittedly sizeable number of people were praying in waves. So clearly, there were lots of religious people in the building, just not enough to halt dinner to pray. Praying en masse would also have been a logistical nightmare, as the only space large enough was the banquet hall in which we were eating.
When taraweeh rolled around most of the crowd had disappeared, but it seemed like most of the people who’d coordinated the dinner were part of the congregation. The banquet hall where we’d all eaten was cleared out, vacuumed and prepared with sheets. That’s when it started looking more like an Islamic center, although curiously, they closed the doors to the main hall during prayers, thus preventing anyone passing by outside to see or hear what was going on. Quite a different environment from, say, those mosques who lower neighborhood property values by doing the adhan so loudly you can hear it down the block.
Taraweeh was different; instead of sets of two, Turks (ALL Turks. No exceptions) pray taraweeh in sets of four. Kind of throws you off if you’re not expecting it, but of course they have a scholarly opinion to back up that practice. The imam’s Turkish accent also bled through during prayers; close your eyes at some Desi masjids and you wouldn’t be able to tell if the imam was Desi or Arab, but here it was very clear that the imam was Turkish. Kind of makes me wonder how taraweeh at the holy cities was like when the Ottomans ruled Arabia.
Date Visited: August 28, 2011
Location:
1257 Tasman Drive, Unit B
Sunnyvale, CA 94089
Tag-team taraweeh: No
Qirat: Better than average. I still find the Turkish accent quirky, so I enjoyed the recitation.
Size of congregation: 40 men, 20 women
Capacity of center: 200-300
Parking: A lot in an active business park, which of course was mostly closed on a Sunday. I imagine it must have been difficult to find parking around dinner.
Mihrab: No
Minbar: No
Shoe shelves: None, the center’s not designed for prayer so they didn’t have any.
Building: Good-sized unit in a business park. Kind of hard to find because even though the address says Tasman, the door doesn’t open out that way so if you’re not looking out for it, you won’t see it. In that regard, it’s a stark contrast to most mosques I’ve visited this month.
Friendliness towards women: Women were very active throughout the night. While it was true the men outnumbered the women during the taraweeh prayers, during dinner I’d say the place was split 50/50. This is definitely not a place where a woman would feel even remotely uncomfortable simply because of her sex.
Friendliness of congregation: I was regarded with suspicion by a couple people at first, but generally, everyone was warm and welcoming. It wasn’t as welcoming as the Bosnian masjid I visited last year, but it was a good evening nonetheless. Once the prayer started all linguistic barriers disappeared anyways.
Before I continue, I’d like to inform you, if I may, that back in college I spent a semester abroad in Ankara, Turkey. There, I learned many things (or so I told my parents), but two that come to mind in this context are most of the students I met were not religious and the prayer space on campus was primarily frequented by the support staff of the university. The vast majority of students I met, in fact, had a disdain for religion, although a lot of them did worship a god and his name was Ataturk.
It was because of the secularism I observed in my semester abroad that I wasn’t too surprised by the way the center was run. Maghrib rolled around and while nobody started eating before sunset, it was not like a masjid where folks eat a little to break their fast, pray and then get back to dinner. No, folks started lining up at the buffet tables and eating dinner as soon as the sun had sunk below the horizon, and if you wanted to pray, you went into a side room where an admittedly sizeable number of people were praying in waves. So clearly, there were lots of religious people in the building, just not enough to halt dinner to pray. Praying en masse would also have been a logistical nightmare, as the only space large enough was the banquet hall in which we were eating.
When taraweeh rolled around most of the crowd had disappeared, but it seemed like most of the people who’d coordinated the dinner were part of the congregation. The banquet hall where we’d all eaten was cleared out, vacuumed and prepared with sheets. That’s when it started looking more like an Islamic center, although curiously, they closed the doors to the main hall during prayers, thus preventing anyone passing by outside to see or hear what was going on. Quite a different environment from, say, those mosques who lower neighborhood property values by doing the adhan so loudly you can hear it down the block.
Taraweeh was different; instead of sets of two, Turks (ALL Turks. No exceptions) pray taraweeh in sets of four. Kind of throws you off if you’re not expecting it, but of course they have a scholarly opinion to back up that practice. The imam’s Turkish accent also bled through during prayers; close your eyes at some Desi masjids and you wouldn’t be able to tell if the imam was Desi or Arab, but here it was very clear that the imam was Turkish. Kind of makes me wonder how taraweeh at the holy cities was like when the Ottomans ruled Arabia.
Date Visited: August 28, 2011
Location:
1257 Tasman Drive, Unit B
Sunnyvale, CA 94089
Tag-team taraweeh: No
Qirat: Better than average. I still find the Turkish accent quirky, so I enjoyed the recitation.
Size of congregation: 40 men, 20 women
Capacity of center: 200-300
Parking: A lot in an active business park, which of course was mostly closed on a Sunday. I imagine it must have been difficult to find parking around dinner.
Mihrab: No
Minbar: No
Shoe shelves: None, the center’s not designed for prayer so they didn’t have any.
Building: Good-sized unit in a business park. Kind of hard to find because even though the address says Tasman, the door doesn’t open out that way so if you’re not looking out for it, you won’t see it. In that regard, it’s a stark contrast to most mosques I’ve visited this month.
Friendliness towards women: Women were very active throughout the night. While it was true the men outnumbered the women during the taraweeh prayers, during dinner I’d say the place was split 50/50. This is definitely not a place where a woman would feel even remotely uncomfortable simply because of her sex.
Friendliness of congregation: I was regarded with suspicion by a couple people at first, but generally, everyone was warm and welcoming. It wasn’t as welcoming as the Bosnian masjid I visited last year, but it was a good evening nonetheless. Once the prayer started all linguistic barriers disappeared anyways.
Community members enjoying dinner. Again, because this is a cultural center first and a mosque second, isha didn't get started till 10 PM because the emphasis is on the community coming together over dinner and not necessarily through prayer. In contrast, MCA starts prayers at 9:15 these days.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Islamic Center of Livermore
The City of Livermore has always made me a little uncomfortable. It’s not because it’s home to a national lab where they’re concocting weapons which will undoubtedly kill innocent children. It’s because growing up, a couple friends of mine from Livermore used to tell stories of the white supremacist groups who call this city home. Of course, they’re a small minority of the population, but it doesn’t change the fact that this is a homogenous city and, if the Bay Area is blue, this region is purple.
After all, this is one of the few places in the Bay Area where you can still catch a summer rodeo. It’s also rapidly turning into a bedroom community, and it’s likely the old cowboys shed a tear or two as they see old homesteads being converted into suburban sprawl. Probably not, though, as the same cowboys probably made a killing selling their 40 acres to developers. Before greedy ranchers sell off all their land, though, be sure to catch the rodeo in the near future; there’s nothing quite like seeing a white guy (with a sunburned red neck) wrassle with a steer.
It is against this backdrop that the community has developed this masjid in Olde Towne Livermore-e. Size-wise, the place is dwarfed by both Saint Raymond and Pleasanton, both of which are within a 10-15 minute driving distance. However, compared to a lot of other masjids with the same-sized congregation, they’re doing pretty well for themselves. The mosque has taken over the entire second floor of a commercial building, which is a far cry from some of the tiny storefronts you see close to or in the overpriced parcel of land known as the Santa Clara Valley. Also unlike those tiny storefront masjids, it’s not just a prayer area; they have space for a library and a common area used for special events.
I arrived well before isha prayer, which allowed me to explore the mosque and solidify my impressions of the mosque. There were no men when I first arrived, only women, who were having what I can only safely assume was a halaqa. Given the small size of the mosque, I was glad to see that women had that much control over the facilities. Over the years and the past month I’ve discovered that small mosques tend not to cater to women in the best manner, to put it delicately. The fact that there were women there without the presence of men meant they had access to the keys, which means they have some say in how this mosque is run.
The congregation, like the City of Livermore, is also homogenous, in that they’re mostly Arab, with a sprinkling of “other” (in the men’s section, at least, I increased the Pakistani population by infinity percent). However, unlike the other predominantly Arab mosques I’ve visited, they prayed 20 rakats of taraweeh instead of the Shaf’i 8. One might theorize that they were Malikis, but that wasn’t the case. You see, you can spot a Maliki praying from a mile away because they pray with their hands down instead of folded around the abdominal area. I assumed most of the congregation was Shaf’i when we first started taraweeh, but was surprised at the somewhat dirty looks people were giving me as I headed for the exit after 8. Desis, take note: there are Arabs who can be as judgmental as you when it comes to taraweeh, when all we eighters are trying to do is make our religion easier for ourselves (Quran 22:78).
The community is very young, and by that I mean I didn’t see anyone between the ages of 12 and 21 in the congregation. They were either family men or young children, which means this community either hasn’t been around for too long or families tend to go to the bigger mosques in the area. Whatever the case may be, it’s clear that for now the facilities seem to be suiting the community fine; an announcement was made following isha that Eid prayers would be held at the mosque.
I was unsurprised to learn, given the Arab dominance of the ranks, that they’ll be following Saudi Arabia, whose citizens sometimes sees the new moon when it’s physically impossible to see it. See, the King of Saudi Arabia gives a reward to anyone who reports that they’ve seen the moon so a lot of overeager dessert-dwellers claim to see the moon and, if it was impossible, call it a miracle (alhamdulillah). This moonsighting debate (clever imams like IT of SBIA call it moonfighting) can get a little ridiculous; there was a year when Eid was celebrated on 3 different days, an impossibility considering the fact that lunar months are either 29 or 30 days.
But I digress. On with the pictures and profile!
Date Visited: August 27, 2011
Location:
379C South Livermore Ave.
Livermore, CA 94550
Tag-team taraweeh: No, but the person who lead Isha was different from the person who lead taraweeh.
Qirat: Average
Size of congregation: 20 men, tops, 10 women.
Capacity of center: ~75
Parking: There are a few spots in the parking lot, which I’m sure during business hours congregants aren’t supposed to use because the first floor is occupied by a podiatrist’s office and a hair salon. Street parking isn’t too much of a hassle, but considering it’s suburbia, it’s surprisingly difficult. The nearest spot I could find was 2 blocks away because you can’t park on Livermore Ave.
Mihrab: Yes
Minbar: Yes
Shoe shelves: Plenty. Men and women share them (scandalous!)
Building: Second floor of a commercial building. Good-sized space, though it’s obvious the kids don’t have anywhere to go during taraweeh. As I was leaving I found a bunch of them kicking it in their parents’ Prius. Eventually as this community grows they’ll have to figure out a space that’s safe for the kids, because even though Livermore isn’t exactly known for its high crime rate, a commercial building’s parking lot is no place for a child to be left unsupervised.
Friendliness towards women: I would say high, especially after considering how small the community is. Unfortunately, small mosques tend to have a men-first approach, but this masjid seemed pretty progressive. The men’s and women’s section were separated by a series of curtains, all of which were drawn back when I first arrived, which tells me they’re not as strict about the gender segregation as TJ Bhai might be. The one thing which may be a little icky for the women is there’s only one toilet which they have to share with us gross men.
Friendliness of congregation: Very high. There was a gentleman there who’d just moved to Livermore and the mosque leadership wished him and his family a warm welcome.
After all, this is one of the few places in the Bay Area where you can still catch a summer rodeo. It’s also rapidly turning into a bedroom community, and it’s likely the old cowboys shed a tear or two as they see old homesteads being converted into suburban sprawl. Probably not, though, as the same cowboys probably made a killing selling their 40 acres to developers. Before greedy ranchers sell off all their land, though, be sure to catch the rodeo in the near future; there’s nothing quite like seeing a white guy (with a sunburned red neck) wrassle with a steer.
It is against this backdrop that the community has developed this masjid in Olde Towne Livermore-e. Size-wise, the place is dwarfed by both Saint Raymond and Pleasanton, both of which are within a 10-15 minute driving distance. However, compared to a lot of other masjids with the same-sized congregation, they’re doing pretty well for themselves. The mosque has taken over the entire second floor of a commercial building, which is a far cry from some of the tiny storefronts you see close to or in the overpriced parcel of land known as the Santa Clara Valley. Also unlike those tiny storefront masjids, it’s not just a prayer area; they have space for a library and a common area used for special events.
I arrived well before isha prayer, which allowed me to explore the mosque and solidify my impressions of the mosque. There were no men when I first arrived, only women, who were having what I can only safely assume was a halaqa. Given the small size of the mosque, I was glad to see that women had that much control over the facilities. Over the years and the past month I’ve discovered that small mosques tend not to cater to women in the best manner, to put it delicately. The fact that there were women there without the presence of men meant they had access to the keys, which means they have some say in how this mosque is run.
The congregation, like the City of Livermore, is also homogenous, in that they’re mostly Arab, with a sprinkling of “other” (in the men’s section, at least, I increased the Pakistani population by infinity percent). However, unlike the other predominantly Arab mosques I’ve visited, they prayed 20 rakats of taraweeh instead of the Shaf’i 8. One might theorize that they were Malikis, but that wasn’t the case. You see, you can spot a Maliki praying from a mile away because they pray with their hands down instead of folded around the abdominal area. I assumed most of the congregation was Shaf’i when we first started taraweeh, but was surprised at the somewhat dirty looks people were giving me as I headed for the exit after 8. Desis, take note: there are Arabs who can be as judgmental as you when it comes to taraweeh, when all we eighters are trying to do is make our religion easier for ourselves (Quran 22:78).
The community is very young, and by that I mean I didn’t see anyone between the ages of 12 and 21 in the congregation. They were either family men or young children, which means this community either hasn’t been around for too long or families tend to go to the bigger mosques in the area. Whatever the case may be, it’s clear that for now the facilities seem to be suiting the community fine; an announcement was made following isha that Eid prayers would be held at the mosque.
I was unsurprised to learn, given the Arab dominance of the ranks, that they’ll be following Saudi Arabia, whose citizens sometimes sees the new moon when it’s physically impossible to see it. See, the King of Saudi Arabia gives a reward to anyone who reports that they’ve seen the moon so a lot of overeager dessert-dwellers claim to see the moon and, if it was impossible, call it a miracle (alhamdulillah). This moonsighting debate (clever imams like IT of SBIA call it moonfighting) can get a little ridiculous; there was a year when Eid was celebrated on 3 different days, an impossibility considering the fact that lunar months are either 29 or 30 days.
But I digress. On with the pictures and profile!
You know how I know this building is old? Wood paneling on the walls, yuck.
Yeah, the stairwell leading to the masjid is that dark at night. I'm sure there are lights, but nobody turned them on. Good thing we were in Livermore, right? This practice is not advisable in cities with more tarnished reputations.
Date Visited: August 27, 2011
Location:
379C South Livermore Ave.
Livermore, CA 94550
Tag-team taraweeh: No, but the person who lead Isha was different from the person who lead taraweeh.
Qirat: Average
Size of congregation: 20 men, tops, 10 women.
Capacity of center: ~75
Parking: There are a few spots in the parking lot, which I’m sure during business hours congregants aren’t supposed to use because the first floor is occupied by a podiatrist’s office and a hair salon. Street parking isn’t too much of a hassle, but considering it’s suburbia, it’s surprisingly difficult. The nearest spot I could find was 2 blocks away because you can’t park on Livermore Ave.
Mihrab: Yes
Minbar: Yes
Shoe shelves: Plenty. Men and women share them (scandalous!)
Building: Second floor of a commercial building. Good-sized space, though it’s obvious the kids don’t have anywhere to go during taraweeh. As I was leaving I found a bunch of them kicking it in their parents’ Prius. Eventually as this community grows they’ll have to figure out a space that’s safe for the kids, because even though Livermore isn’t exactly known for its high crime rate, a commercial building’s parking lot is no place for a child to be left unsupervised.
Friendliness towards women: I would say high, especially after considering how small the community is. Unfortunately, small mosques tend to have a men-first approach, but this masjid seemed pretty progressive. The men’s and women’s section were separated by a series of curtains, all of which were drawn back when I first arrived, which tells me they’re not as strict about the gender segregation as TJ Bhai might be. The one thing which may be a little icky for the women is there’s only one toilet which they have to share with us gross men.
Friendliness of congregation: Very high. There was a gentleman there who’d just moved to Livermore and the mosque leadership wished him and his family a warm welcome.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Muslim Community Center of the East Bay (Pleasanton)
“I used to live in Santa Clara—San Jose—and I used to go to MCA about 10-15 years ago,” began the fundraiser.
I grimaced, expecting boos and hisses at the mention of MCA. There were none.
“…and I hated it when they used to fundraise on the night of the 27th, [but unfortunately that’s what I’m here to do.]”
I paraphrased that last part, obviously, but that was the gist of it. The mosque has hit only 30% of its Ramadan fundraising goal and so was forced to do it tonight. However, there was an apologetic tone to the man’s voice, something you would never hear at MCA. MCA’s more likely to blame the donor: “Yeah, we’re fundraising on Eid, because YOU didn’t donate enough during Ramadan. Now pay up!” MCA’s like the schoolyard bully who beats up children for lunch money so he can provide them services like educational lectures, free legal aid and family counseling (can I give backhanded compliments, or can I give backhanded compliments?).
A week ago, a member of my editorial board—so named because they’re the select few who have a modicum of control over the blog’s contents (“No, you can’t visit the gay Muslim mosque!”)—told me I’d been doing too many repeats from last year. Visit new mosques for the rest of Ramadan, he ordered me.
I defied him tonight because it’s the night of the 27th, the night the bulk of all Muslims believes to be the night the first verses of the Quran were revealed. There is a difference of opinion, of course; one scholar, who says it could be a night outside Ramadan, says the only way to find it is by staying up late to pray every night. In any case, because it was potentially Laylat-ul-Qadr, I wanted to spend it in a mosque with a large, diverse community. Not too many mosques fit the bill, so per the recommendation of an old college friend, I headed to Pleasanton.
Once my Pleasanton insider found out I was heading towards his neck of the woods, he invited me to have dinner with his family. It was there that I was able to meet his father, one of the architects of the San Ramon Valley Islamic Center (SRVIC, pronounced ‘service,’ which is a very cute nickname) and MCC-East Bay. I also discovered (to my relief) that I am still very much anonymous in this community. My friend as an aside mentioned that I was behind this blog and it was only then that his family recognized me as THAT guy. Funny, too, because apparently my CBS interview was splashed over the news feeds of many Facebook accounts in the area. I shouldn’t be surprised at my anonymity; last year I got an email from a friend in which they wrote, “Have you seen this??” and included a link to my blog.
I used my place at the dinner table to ask 3 questions which had been burning in my mind: which came first, SRVIC or MCC? Why don’t they combine into one mosque given their proximity? Is there any beef between those two mosques?
It turns out, SRVIC did come first, but MCC was born out a different vision for what a mosque should be. The board which leads MCC believes that a simple community mosque is not sufficient to fulfill the needs of a growing Muslim population, and they’re right. Lots of community mosques are nothing more than prayer spaces that are rarely used outside of the 5 daily prayers. MCC’s vision is to create a community center which will be large enough to provide essential services, like outreach, and basically be somewhere folks attend for more than just the prayers. However, MCC respects the concept of a community mosque and isn’t interested in becoming a behemoth which swallows up all mosques around it. Each city should have a mosque, a belief which goes back to the time of the Prophet, when even Medina had 40 mosques, despite being smaller than the current size of the Prophet’s masjid. Finally, no, there is no beef.
This mosque’s leadership structure is fascinating. Their constitution mandates that their board be composed of 3 people from Pleasanton, 3 people from San Ramon, 1 person from Livermore, and 1 from the area? My insider was only really sure about the representation from the first two cities. I’ve never heard of a board being controlled by a quota system, and it’s certainly not something that would work in the South Bay. MCA being as large as it is, it would be terribly unfair to say that most of its board members have to be from Santa Clara, since most big donors live in the West Valley anyways. I actually don’t get why hometowns are so important. Are the needs of the San Ramon Muslims so different from the Pleasanton Muslims that they need to have an equal representation from both groups?
I adore khatams. Khatams are the night when the imam wraps up his recitation of the Quran, which he aims to do by reciting an equal section of the book every night during taraweeh. Most masjids in the area have their khatams by the 27th night, and it was a treat for me to be able to witness it at this mosque.
When I was younger (like 22, the last year I prayed taraweeh all month at MCA), I especially liked khatams because they were the nights dear old Sheikh Jibreel used to recite the surahs I knew intimately. See, a Desi’s Quranic education tends to begin with the 30th part of the Quran, it containing the shortest chapters of the Quran. As a wee tot I used to bubble with excitement every time the Sheikh recited a surah I knew by heart. I have since lost much of that lust for life, so I was a lot more reserved tonight, but I still felt a warm rush as I heard my old favorites being recited in the imam’s beautiful voice.
What really moved me tonight was the imam’s final dua. Imams traditionally wrap up their recitation of the entire Quran in the month of Ramadan with a final dua which could range from 1 minute to 40 minutes. Sheikh Jibreel in his prime used to do final duas of over 30 minutes, which is quite an accomplishment for him and the congregation considering we’d all be standing still during the time. Tonight was also a lengthy dua, and it was touching because the imam broke down and cried in the middle.
What do the imams pray for? Really, I couldn’t tell you exactly, because I don’t speak Arabic, but it’s a safe assumption that they pray for themselves, their families, their communities and the Muslim ummah as a whole. Certain imams have the power to bring their congregations to tears with their final duas, and tonight was one of those nights. It always is one of the most powerful and emotional experiences of my life and the fact that it comes by only once a year makes it even more meaningful.
So which did I like better, San Ramon or Pleasanton? Hey, look at these pictures below while I dodge the question!
Date Visited: August 26, 2011
Location:
5724 West Las Positas Boulevard
Pleasanton, CA 94588
Tag-team taraweeh: No
Qirat: Phenomenal
Size of congregation: 250 men, 100 women? These are just rough estimates.
Capacity of center: I could tell the center was almost at capacity from the heat and humidity of the room. I want to say they can fit 400 people in there at once in its current configuration
Parking: The lot in the commercial space. Doesn’t seem to be any street parking options, so if you can’t find parking in the designated lots, you’re kind of out of luck.
Mihrab: Yes
Minbar: Yes
Shoe shelves: Racks at the entrance, seemed to be sufficient for tonight.
By the by, I visited SRVIC after taraweeh at MCC and noticed that more than a few congregants had left their shoes outside the front door on the sidewalk instead of carrying them to the shoe shelves in the center of the building. Tsk tsk.
Building: The MCC bought the entire building but kept the tenants while occupying half the building themselves. The fundraising goal for this year is $200,000, $100,000 of which will go to pay for the building. They’re also using the rent from their tenants to help cover the monthly payments they have to make. Because of their focus on getting the building paid off, they haven’t spent too much time making the mosque look pretty; prayer areas are demarcated with tape and the carpet is the standard commercial fare.
However, just looking at the sheer size of this space (including the part they rent out) you can tell this center has a lot of potential. It’s unfortunate that they’ve only reached 30% of their fundraising goal, though they may also have unrealistic expectations from their community. Faithful readers will remember I reported SBIA asks each family to donate $20 per month to cover Ramadan expenses. MCA asks for first-born sons, but they’ll accept $125. This community asks for $300. Steep!
Friendliness towards women: They have a separate entrance, but as I rounded the corner and entered the men’s prayer hall, I discovered there’s no real barrier between the men and women. Sure, there are walls, but there are sizeable gaps in them, thus theoretically allowing for a sightline of the mihrab. Additionally, some women were praying in the same hall as the men. Following the prayer, when the congregation was feasting on desserts (another khatam tradition) men and women were mingling with no problems.
However, I did a little digging, and found that not everything that night had been hunky-dory. During the prayer, the leadership became afraid that the men wouldn’t have enough space to pray. Their solution was to attempt to make the women praying in the same hall as the men to move back into a stuffy, hot, crowded section of the mosque. They failed due to the stance taken by some very strong, determined women, but the story still troubled me. What that tells me is the mosque values the men’s prayer more than the women’s prayer. Frankly, women have a right to an equitable amount of space, especially on such an important night, and it was wrong for the leadership to even attempt to make the women move.
By the way, the men ended up not needing the women’s space, which was good, because they weren’t going anywhere anyways.
Friendliness of congregation: It’s a very large, diverse community. Everyone seemed like they were having a great time tonight, and I’m sure I could have made some new friends if I hadn’t been kicking it with my insider.
I grimaced, expecting boos and hisses at the mention of MCA. There were none.
“…and I hated it when they used to fundraise on the night of the 27th, [but unfortunately that’s what I’m here to do.]”
I paraphrased that last part, obviously, but that was the gist of it. The mosque has hit only 30% of its Ramadan fundraising goal and so was forced to do it tonight. However, there was an apologetic tone to the man’s voice, something you would never hear at MCA. MCA’s more likely to blame the donor: “Yeah, we’re fundraising on Eid, because YOU didn’t donate enough during Ramadan. Now pay up!” MCA’s like the schoolyard bully who beats up children for lunch money so he can provide them services like educational lectures, free legal aid and family counseling (can I give backhanded compliments, or can I give backhanded compliments?).
A week ago, a member of my editorial board—so named because they’re the select few who have a modicum of control over the blog’s contents (“No, you can’t visit the gay Muslim mosque!”)—told me I’d been doing too many repeats from last year. Visit new mosques for the rest of Ramadan, he ordered me.
I defied him tonight because it’s the night of the 27th, the night the bulk of all Muslims believes to be the night the first verses of the Quran were revealed. There is a difference of opinion, of course; one scholar, who says it could be a night outside Ramadan, says the only way to find it is by staying up late to pray every night. In any case, because it was potentially Laylat-ul-Qadr, I wanted to spend it in a mosque with a large, diverse community. Not too many mosques fit the bill, so per the recommendation of an old college friend, I headed to Pleasanton.
Once my Pleasanton insider found out I was heading towards his neck of the woods, he invited me to have dinner with his family. It was there that I was able to meet his father, one of the architects of the San Ramon Valley Islamic Center (SRVIC, pronounced ‘service,’ which is a very cute nickname) and MCC-East Bay. I also discovered (to my relief) that I am still very much anonymous in this community. My friend as an aside mentioned that I was behind this blog and it was only then that his family recognized me as THAT guy. Funny, too, because apparently my CBS interview was splashed over the news feeds of many Facebook accounts in the area. I shouldn’t be surprised at my anonymity; last year I got an email from a friend in which they wrote, “Have you seen this??” and included a link to my blog.
I used my place at the dinner table to ask 3 questions which had been burning in my mind: which came first, SRVIC or MCC? Why don’t they combine into one mosque given their proximity? Is there any beef between those two mosques?
It turns out, SRVIC did come first, but MCC was born out a different vision for what a mosque should be. The board which leads MCC believes that a simple community mosque is not sufficient to fulfill the needs of a growing Muslim population, and they’re right. Lots of community mosques are nothing more than prayer spaces that are rarely used outside of the 5 daily prayers. MCC’s vision is to create a community center which will be large enough to provide essential services, like outreach, and basically be somewhere folks attend for more than just the prayers. However, MCC respects the concept of a community mosque and isn’t interested in becoming a behemoth which swallows up all mosques around it. Each city should have a mosque, a belief which goes back to the time of the Prophet, when even Medina had 40 mosques, despite being smaller than the current size of the Prophet’s masjid. Finally, no, there is no beef.
This mosque’s leadership structure is fascinating. Their constitution mandates that their board be composed of 3 people from Pleasanton, 3 people from San Ramon, 1 person from Livermore, and 1 from the area? My insider was only really sure about the representation from the first two cities. I’ve never heard of a board being controlled by a quota system, and it’s certainly not something that would work in the South Bay. MCA being as large as it is, it would be terribly unfair to say that most of its board members have to be from Santa Clara, since most big donors live in the West Valley anyways. I actually don’t get why hometowns are so important. Are the needs of the San Ramon Muslims so different from the Pleasanton Muslims that they need to have an equal representation from both groups?
I adore khatams. Khatams are the night when the imam wraps up his recitation of the Quran, which he aims to do by reciting an equal section of the book every night during taraweeh. Most masjids in the area have their khatams by the 27th night, and it was a treat for me to be able to witness it at this mosque.
When I was younger (like 22, the last year I prayed taraweeh all month at MCA), I especially liked khatams because they were the nights dear old Sheikh Jibreel used to recite the surahs I knew intimately. See, a Desi’s Quranic education tends to begin with the 30th part of the Quran, it containing the shortest chapters of the Quran. As a wee tot I used to bubble with excitement every time the Sheikh recited a surah I knew by heart. I have since lost much of that lust for life, so I was a lot more reserved tonight, but I still felt a warm rush as I heard my old favorites being recited in the imam’s beautiful voice.
What really moved me tonight was the imam’s final dua. Imams traditionally wrap up their recitation of the entire Quran in the month of Ramadan with a final dua which could range from 1 minute to 40 minutes. Sheikh Jibreel in his prime used to do final duas of over 30 minutes, which is quite an accomplishment for him and the congregation considering we’d all be standing still during the time. Tonight was also a lengthy dua, and it was touching because the imam broke down and cried in the middle.
What do the imams pray for? Really, I couldn’t tell you exactly, because I don’t speak Arabic, but it’s a safe assumption that they pray for themselves, their families, their communities and the Muslim ummah as a whole. Certain imams have the power to bring their congregations to tears with their final duas, and tonight was one of those nights. It always is one of the most powerful and emotional experiences of my life and the fact that it comes by only once a year makes it even more meaningful.
So which did I like better, San Ramon or Pleasanton? Hey, look at these pictures below while I dodge the question!
If you're so far back you can't see the imam, never fear, they've installed flat-screens hooked up to video cameras. It's a move right out of MCA's playbook for creating a more equitable space for the women (who were right behind and to the left of me)
Exterior of the building. Classic business park architecture.
Date Visited: August 26, 2011
Location:
5724 West Las Positas Boulevard
Pleasanton, CA 94588
Tag-team taraweeh: No
Qirat: Phenomenal
Size of congregation: 250 men, 100 women? These are just rough estimates.
Capacity of center: I could tell the center was almost at capacity from the heat and humidity of the room. I want to say they can fit 400 people in there at once in its current configuration
Parking: The lot in the commercial space. Doesn’t seem to be any street parking options, so if you can’t find parking in the designated lots, you’re kind of out of luck.
Mihrab: Yes
Minbar: Yes
Shoe shelves: Racks at the entrance, seemed to be sufficient for tonight.
By the by, I visited SRVIC after taraweeh at MCC and noticed that more than a few congregants had left their shoes outside the front door on the sidewalk instead of carrying them to the shoe shelves in the center of the building. Tsk tsk.
Building: The MCC bought the entire building but kept the tenants while occupying half the building themselves. The fundraising goal for this year is $200,000, $100,000 of which will go to pay for the building. They’re also using the rent from their tenants to help cover the monthly payments they have to make. Because of their focus on getting the building paid off, they haven’t spent too much time making the mosque look pretty; prayer areas are demarcated with tape and the carpet is the standard commercial fare.
However, just looking at the sheer size of this space (including the part they rent out) you can tell this center has a lot of potential. It’s unfortunate that they’ve only reached 30% of their fundraising goal, though they may also have unrealistic expectations from their community. Faithful readers will remember I reported SBIA asks each family to donate $20 per month to cover Ramadan expenses. MCA asks for first-born sons, but they’ll accept $125. This community asks for $300. Steep!
Friendliness towards women: They have a separate entrance, but as I rounded the corner and entered the men’s prayer hall, I discovered there’s no real barrier between the men and women. Sure, there are walls, but there are sizeable gaps in them, thus theoretically allowing for a sightline of the mihrab. Additionally, some women were praying in the same hall as the men. Following the prayer, when the congregation was feasting on desserts (another khatam tradition) men and women were mingling with no problems.
However, I did a little digging, and found that not everything that night had been hunky-dory. During the prayer, the leadership became afraid that the men wouldn’t have enough space to pray. Their solution was to attempt to make the women praying in the same hall as the men to move back into a stuffy, hot, crowded section of the mosque. They failed due to the stance taken by some very strong, determined women, but the story still troubled me. What that tells me is the mosque values the men’s prayer more than the women’s prayer. Frankly, women have a right to an equitable amount of space, especially on such an important night, and it was wrong for the leadership to even attempt to make the women move.
By the way, the men ended up not needing the women’s space, which was good, because they weren’t going anywhere anyways.
Friendliness of congregation: It’s a very large, diverse community. Everyone seemed like they were having a great time tonight, and I’m sure I could have made some new friends if I hadn’t been kicking it with my insider.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Walnut Creek Islamic Center
Welcome to Walnut Creek, one of the more well-to-do ones communities the other side of the Oakland hills. You can sense the wealth by looking at the street on which this mosque is located: there are very few streetlamps and no sidewalks, both characteristics of city planning designed to keep the poors away. Or, city planning that harkens back to Walnut Creek’s rural days, what do I know?
The masjid’s website displays an earnestness to connect with the community at large, but I can tell you they have a lot of work to do. I knew I was looking for a converted church, so I pulled into the first church-like structure I saw on the street. I asked the handful of old white men hanging out in the parking lot where the mosque was, and they directed me to their gymnasium, where all I found were the night janitors doing their thing. Mosque does not mean cleaning crew, gentlemen.
It turns out I was at the wrong address and soon I’d arrived at the right building. It’s a good-sized structure, but it’s right in the middle of the aforementioned residential neighborhood, which will be a problem. See, good God-fearing Christians only attend the church en masse on one day, but good God-fearing Muslims attend it five times a day, every day. The amount of noise the Muslim congregations make is disgraceful; no amount of neighborhood barbecues to foster goodwill can make up for the hours of sleep the neighbors lose, especially during the summers. It’s because of that I strongly believe if Muslims are going to buy property, they should go commercial, because then at least they’re not preventing children from getting a good night’s sleep (an actual complaint in Santa Clara, mind you).
This masjid seems like an awesome place to hang out in fair weather, though, because of the courtyard in the middle of the “compound,” as they call it. I arrived after everyone had finished eating, of course, but folks were still enjoying the relatively warm weather, and lots of kids were scurrying around. Better they be at the masjid than at home playing video games, right?
Well, not exactly. I was looking around the center and in one of the rooms I noticed a group of children huddled around an Xbox, which had somehow made its way into the masjid. I can assure you I’ve never seen a video game system being played with at the masjid, but hey, to each community their own.
This community really isn’t very different from most of the ones I’ve discovered in my travels (travails?). There is a list of guidelines on the wall for the congregation to follow. Granted, each of the ten guidelines is in 12-point font and is composed of 1-2 compound sentences, so I’m not sure how much the people adhere to them. After all, even God only gave Moses 10 commandments of 10 words or less.
This is a very diverse community, and they’re thrilled to be in a new space better suited to their needs. The lingua franca is English, which is probably what prevented this community from becoming homogenous. The lecture after the fourth rakat of taraweeh was given by an African man who spoke to the congregation in English. It’s this inclusiveness which gives me no reason to doubt that this community will flourish. This community’s success has also attracted attention of others looking for a little financial support.
In one of my interviews I said that growing up, I used to see fundraising flyers from far-flung mosques, hoping for support from us, the relatively wealthy community. Well, Walnut Creek had a whole stack of fundraising brochures from the Bosnian community…in Boston. The Santa Clara Bosnians need to step up their game; Bostonians are dipping their hands into a piggy bank in their own backyard!
Date Visited: August 25, 2011
Location:
2449 Buena Vista Avenue
Walnut Creek, CA 94597
Tag-team taraweeh: No
Qirat: Average
Size of congregation: ~40 men, ~10 women
Capacity of center: 150 if they used their space more efficiently, way more if they needed to ever spill out into the courtyard.
Parking: There’s a lot which can hold a bit more than 20 cars, and of course there’s street parking. The problem is, it’s a residential neighborhood, and it’s not one of those residential neighborhoods where people have to fight for parking anyways (see: Berkeley) so folks probably do mind the increased traffic five times a day.
Mihrab: Yes.
Minbar: Yes
Shoe shelves: All along the wall in the courtyard, plenty for tonight.
Building: Let us have a moment of silence for the Korean church that used to be here. I have no idea of why this building changed hands, but I hope it’s not because the Korean church had to close its doors. Rather, I hope it’s because they had to move because they needed a larger space for their congregation. I have a lot of respect for Korean Baptists; a Korean church is on the way from our house in Santa Clara to the masjid and every time my father and I used to leave for the mosque at dawn to pray fajr we’d always seen at least a couple congregants' cars parked outside the church. It’s a broad generalization, but the Korean Baptists are a very devout people and it would be a shame if they had to sell the building because they couldn’t afford it anymore.
Friendliness towards women: Guideline #2 reads, “Women are expected to wear a headscarf in the prayer area and are encouraged to maintain it elsewhere with the compound.” At ICCNC, the youth group leader related a story of when she was at Masjid al-Iman in Oakland and a woman walked in wearing relatively scandalous clothing. At other mosques, she said, the woman would have been forced to cover herself, if not asked to leave. This masjid isn’t quite as open as that place, but I’d say they’ve struck a middle ground that shouldn’t ruffle too many conservative feathers. I personally would lean towards having no hijab requirement at all, because it’s unfair to assume all women congregants are even ready/willing to put it on in the first place.
Friendliness of congregation: Everyone seemed very nice. The diversity of the crowd really helps when it comes to starting conversations or even just saying hello.
The masjid’s website displays an earnestness to connect with the community at large, but I can tell you they have a lot of work to do. I knew I was looking for a converted church, so I pulled into the first church-like structure I saw on the street. I asked the handful of old white men hanging out in the parking lot where the mosque was, and they directed me to their gymnasium, where all I found were the night janitors doing their thing. Mosque does not mean cleaning crew, gentlemen.
It turns out I was at the wrong address and soon I’d arrived at the right building. It’s a good-sized structure, but it’s right in the middle of the aforementioned residential neighborhood, which will be a problem. See, good God-fearing Christians only attend the church en masse on one day, but good God-fearing Muslims attend it five times a day, every day. The amount of noise the Muslim congregations make is disgraceful; no amount of neighborhood barbecues to foster goodwill can make up for the hours of sleep the neighbors lose, especially during the summers. It’s because of that I strongly believe if Muslims are going to buy property, they should go commercial, because then at least they’re not preventing children from getting a good night’s sleep (an actual complaint in Santa Clara, mind you).
This masjid seems like an awesome place to hang out in fair weather, though, because of the courtyard in the middle of the “compound,” as they call it. I arrived after everyone had finished eating, of course, but folks were still enjoying the relatively warm weather, and lots of kids were scurrying around. Better they be at the masjid than at home playing video games, right?
Well, not exactly. I was looking around the center and in one of the rooms I noticed a group of children huddled around an Xbox, which had somehow made its way into the masjid. I can assure you I’ve never seen a video game system being played with at the masjid, but hey, to each community their own.
This community really isn’t very different from most of the ones I’ve discovered in my travels (travails?). There is a list of guidelines on the wall for the congregation to follow. Granted, each of the ten guidelines is in 12-point font and is composed of 1-2 compound sentences, so I’m not sure how much the people adhere to them. After all, even God only gave Moses 10 commandments of 10 words or less.
This is a very diverse community, and they’re thrilled to be in a new space better suited to their needs. The lingua franca is English, which is probably what prevented this community from becoming homogenous. The lecture after the fourth rakat of taraweeh was given by an African man who spoke to the congregation in English. It’s this inclusiveness which gives me no reason to doubt that this community will flourish. This community’s success has also attracted attention of others looking for a little financial support.
In one of my interviews I said that growing up, I used to see fundraising flyers from far-flung mosques, hoping for support from us, the relatively wealthy community. Well, Walnut Creek had a whole stack of fundraising brochures from the Bosnian community…in Boston. The Santa Clara Bosnians need to step up their game; Bostonians are dipping their hands into a piggy bank in their own backyard!
The main entrance of the former church, which is not the main entrance of the mosque.
Date Visited: August 25, 2011
Location:
2449 Buena Vista Avenue
Walnut Creek, CA 94597
Tag-team taraweeh: No
Qirat: Average
Size of congregation: ~40 men, ~10 women
Capacity of center: 150 if they used their space more efficiently, way more if they needed to ever spill out into the courtyard.
Parking: There’s a lot which can hold a bit more than 20 cars, and of course there’s street parking. The problem is, it’s a residential neighborhood, and it’s not one of those residential neighborhoods where people have to fight for parking anyways (see: Berkeley) so folks probably do mind the increased traffic five times a day.
Mihrab: Yes.
Minbar: Yes
Shoe shelves: All along the wall in the courtyard, plenty for tonight.
Building: Let us have a moment of silence for the Korean church that used to be here. I have no idea of why this building changed hands, but I hope it’s not because the Korean church had to close its doors. Rather, I hope it’s because they had to move because they needed a larger space for their congregation. I have a lot of respect for Korean Baptists; a Korean church is on the way from our house in Santa Clara to the masjid and every time my father and I used to leave for the mosque at dawn to pray fajr we’d always seen at least a couple congregants' cars parked outside the church. It’s a broad generalization, but the Korean Baptists are a very devout people and it would be a shame if they had to sell the building because they couldn’t afford it anymore.
Friendliness towards women: Guideline #2 reads, “Women are expected to wear a headscarf in the prayer area and are encouraged to maintain it elsewhere with the compound.” At ICCNC, the youth group leader related a story of when she was at Masjid al-Iman in Oakland and a woman walked in wearing relatively scandalous clothing. At other mosques, she said, the woman would have been forced to cover herself, if not asked to leave. This masjid isn’t quite as open as that place, but I’d say they’ve struck a middle ground that shouldn’t ruffle too many conservative feathers. I personally would lean towards having no hijab requirement at all, because it’s unfair to assume all women congregants are even ready/willing to put it on in the first place.
Friendliness of congregation: Everyone seemed very nice. The diversity of the crowd really helps when it comes to starting conversations or even just saying hello.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Afghan Islamic Center (Concord)
The first thing you want to do when you arrive at this masjid is ponder the façade. It’s just nothing I’ve ever seen before, and certainly nothing you will ever see “back home.” The masjid is on the second floor of a commercial building whose first floor is occupied by a smoke shop. The “Smoke Shop” sign dwarves the tiny, unlit sign pointing to the masjid. So, if you get lost, let the makruh merchant/haram hawker guide you here.
This masjid is composed of Urdu-speaking Pakistanis and Pashto-speaking Afghans, an alliance which would make anyone a little uneasy. After all, the last time Pakistanis and Afghans were caught working together, SEAL Team 6 became a household name.
Seriously, though, it was nice to see the two ethnic groups setting aside their differences to operate a masjid together. The leadership fluidly switches between Urdu and Pashto when addressing the congregation, thus ensuring no one feels left out, unless of course one doesn’t speak Urdu or Pashto.
This is a very small congregation, which means everyone knows each other really well, but unfortunately also means they’re homogenous in terms of religious practice. Before taraweeh started, my host turned to me and asked if I knew that they were about to pray 20. I nodded, sure, that was a reasonable assumption to make, but I hoped he wasn’t expecting me to stay, because I left after 8. I was especially empowered to pray 8 by a recently discovered quote from IT in which he implores his congregation not to judge those who pray 8, as it could very well be true that their 20 may not be accepted. The underlying belief, as I understand it, is to worry about yourself and let others practice the way they want.
Another thing which somewhat bothered me was when I was taking pictures of the outside of the mosque, someone stopped me and asked if I was a member of the press. When I said no, he seemed relieved and let me proceed. I don’t know what the press in the area has done to the Concord Muslims, but this isn’t the first time I’ve sensed tension between the Muslim community and the press corps. Back in the day, a reporter from a local newspaper asked if he could cover the Eid prayers hosted by the Concord Muslim community. They agreed, and the reporter spent a few hours with the community, taking pictures and asking questions. When the article came out, they saw the only picture in the paper was of the shoes strewn all over the community center’s floor.
So, two things. Yes, that may have created a bad impression of Muslims to the average Concord resident, but it should have been a wakeup call, as in, hey, we need to stop tossing our shoes around because it looks awful to the common man. Second, negatively reacting to all potential press because of that one event is not the solution. What if I had been a reporter? I would have thought these Muslims have something to hide.
Taraweeh was sweet, though, the imam was on a juz Amma (3mma?) kick, and was picking express-lane surahs (10 ayahs or less). Quickest taraweeh I’ve ever prayed, not counting the time my roommate made me lead taraweeh in our apartment (if I had to do it all over again, I would have used a Quran as a guide and done an hour-long two rakats to teach him a lesson).
Date Visited: August 24, 2011
Location:
1545 Monument Blvd.
Concord, CA 94520
Tag-team taraweeh: No
Qirat: Average
Size of congregation: 15-20 men, unknown number of women
Capacity of center: 50-75
Parking: The lot is inadequate. For one thing, you have to share the lot with the smoke shop, and even then there’s maybe 5 spots. Fortunately, it being suburbia, there’s ample street parking.
Mihrab: Yes.
Minbar: Yes
Shoe shelves: A few at the entrance, shared with the womenfolk
Building: Second floor of a commercial building, the first floor being occupied by a smoke shop which tonight was getting no business whatsoever. Behold the power of the odd nights of Ramadan.
Friendliness towards women: The women have a room which is around the same size and the men’s room. However, it doesn’t seem like many women show up, as the masjid’s fridge is also in there and the congregation was going in and out of there with no hang-ups.
Friendliness of congregation: Above average, it was a small but welcoming community. I’m glad I spoke Urdu, not knowing that language would have made me feel a little out-of-place.
This masjid is composed of Urdu-speaking Pakistanis and Pashto-speaking Afghans, an alliance which would make anyone a little uneasy. After all, the last time Pakistanis and Afghans were caught working together, SEAL Team 6 became a household name.
Seriously, though, it was nice to see the two ethnic groups setting aside their differences to operate a masjid together. The leadership fluidly switches between Urdu and Pashto when addressing the congregation, thus ensuring no one feels left out, unless of course one doesn’t speak Urdu or Pashto.
This is a very small congregation, which means everyone knows each other really well, but unfortunately also means they’re homogenous in terms of religious practice. Before taraweeh started, my host turned to me and asked if I knew that they were about to pray 20. I nodded, sure, that was a reasonable assumption to make, but I hoped he wasn’t expecting me to stay, because I left after 8. I was especially empowered to pray 8 by a recently discovered quote from IT in which he implores his congregation not to judge those who pray 8, as it could very well be true that their 20 may not be accepted. The underlying belief, as I understand it, is to worry about yourself and let others practice the way they want.
Another thing which somewhat bothered me was when I was taking pictures of the outside of the mosque, someone stopped me and asked if I was a member of the press. When I said no, he seemed relieved and let me proceed. I don’t know what the press in the area has done to the Concord Muslims, but this isn’t the first time I’ve sensed tension between the Muslim community and the press corps. Back in the day, a reporter from a local newspaper asked if he could cover the Eid prayers hosted by the Concord Muslim community. They agreed, and the reporter spent a few hours with the community, taking pictures and asking questions. When the article came out, they saw the only picture in the paper was of the shoes strewn all over the community center’s floor.
So, two things. Yes, that may have created a bad impression of Muslims to the average Concord resident, but it should have been a wakeup call, as in, hey, we need to stop tossing our shoes around because it looks awful to the common man. Second, negatively reacting to all potential press because of that one event is not the solution. What if I had been a reporter? I would have thought these Muslims have something to hide.
Taraweeh was sweet, though, the imam was on a juz Amma (3mma?) kick, and was picking express-lane surahs (10 ayahs or less). Quickest taraweeh I’ve ever prayed, not counting the time my roommate made me lead taraweeh in our apartment (if I had to do it all over again, I would have used a Quran as a guide and done an hour-long two rakats to teach him a lesson).
Welcome to Concord, one of the last remaining white bastions in the Bay Area.
Can you see the masjid? All I see is a sign for one.
Date Visited: August 24, 2011
Location:
1545 Monument Blvd.
Concord, CA 94520
Tag-team taraweeh: No
Qirat: Average
Size of congregation: 15-20 men, unknown number of women
Capacity of center: 50-75
Parking: The lot is inadequate. For one thing, you have to share the lot with the smoke shop, and even then there’s maybe 5 spots. Fortunately, it being suburbia, there’s ample street parking.
Mihrab: Yes.
Minbar: Yes
Shoe shelves: A few at the entrance, shared with the womenfolk
Building: Second floor of a commercial building, the first floor being occupied by a smoke shop which tonight was getting no business whatsoever. Behold the power of the odd nights of Ramadan.
Friendliness towards women: The women have a room which is around the same size and the men’s room. However, it doesn’t seem like many women show up, as the masjid’s fridge is also in there and the congregation was going in and out of there with no hang-ups.
Friendliness of congregation: Above average, it was a small but welcoming community. I’m glad I spoke Urdu, not knowing that language would have made me feel a little out-of-place.
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