SAUDI ARABIA: War Stories

Snapshots of hajj chaos:

• Imad Jomaa and his brother Ali spent hours wandering through the crowds in Mina, searching for somewhere to rest. But they couldn’t even sit on the sidewalk for long without being approached by a Saudi police officer yelling “Move hajji, move!” Finally they were taken in by a group of Iranian pilgrims, who offered food, water and a place to sleep for a few hours.

• Imam Moustafa Al Qazwini had to evacuate his son Mahdi from Mina after Mahdi collapsed due to illness, dehydration and a violent allergic reaction to mosquito bites. The ambulance was completely penned in by the crowds, so he half-carried Mahdi until he found a wheelchair for hire. Then he hailed down a motorcycle and squeezed both of them onboard for the final stretch back to Mecca.

• Yasmina Jennane spent 20 hours straight on a bus as it crawled through traffic on the road from Mt. Arafat. Finally the bus returned to Mecca while Yasmina’s husband Hakim completed the first phase of the “Stoning the Devil” ritual on her behalf. After a brief rest in Mecca, Yasmina and several others walked 45 minutes to Mina to reconnect with the main group, but had a hard time finding their campsite. Exhausted, they lay down and slept on the sidewalk of a highway overpass.

• In the chaotic 48 hours that followed Tuesday’s Mt. Arafat prayer vigil, the Costa Mesa pilgrim group splintered into multiple sub-groups. By Thursday afternoon, pilgrims began straggling back to their Mecca apartment building and swapping harrowing tales of confusion, exhaustion and hunger.
All were relieved to hear that despite the chaos, their pilgrimages were religiously valid. 

One key point: the only truly non-negotiable aspect of the hajj is the Arafat vigil. All other steps, if missed, disrupted or taken out of turn can be compensated in a variety of ways — through extra prayers, slaughtering additional sheep or having a proxy perform the step on your behalf.

— Ashraf Khalil in Mecca

SAUDI ARABIA: Reborn

The final step before pilgrims can leave the sanctified state of ihram: a head-shaving for the men and simple, symbolic trim for the women. Teams of barbers are on standby in Mina just outside the "Stoning the Devil" complex to provide the service for about $4 per pilgrim.

— Ashraf Khalil in Mina

SAUDI ARABIA: Stoning the Devil

A video clip showing pilgrims throwing seven stones each at a large wall symbolizing Satan. There are three walls inside the Mina complex, known respectively as the small, medium and large Satans.

The ritual is meant to symbolize each pilgrim overcoming his or her own temptations and inner demons. It all goes back to the Old Testament take of the Prophet Abraham who was willing to sacrifice his son on God's orders.

The details differ slightly between the Old Testament and the Koran, but in the Muslim version, after God asked Abraham to sacrifice his son Ishmael, Abraham was approached three times by Satan who tried to talk him out of it. Each time he resisted temptation and threw rocks at the devil to send him away.

— Ashraf Khalil in Mina

LEBANON: Books unbound in Beirut

An old Arabic saying goes, "What the Egyptians write, the Lebanese publish and the Iraqis read."

Today, this proverb could be easily challenged. The bulk of Arab writers are not from Egypt and the number of those who read books in Iraq, let alone the Arab world as a whole, is alarmingly low.

The only constant is Lebanon, which remains home to the Arab world's most thriving publishing houses. One important reason is the atmosphere of freedom that does not exist in any other Arab country. This results in Arab authors turning to Lebanese publishers for printing books on sex, politics and other sensitive topics.

This hypothesis can be tested these days at Beirut's annual Arabic book fair. Now in its 51st year, it hosts more than 100 Arabic publishing houses mostly from Lebanon, according to Lebanon's Daily Star.

SAUDI ARABIA: On the road to Mina

After sleeping on the ground for a few hours in Muzdalifa, the pilgrims join a mass procession walking toward Mina to complete the ritual of "Stoning the Devil."

— Ashraf Khalil in Muzdalifa

SAUDI ARABIA: Hajj hardships

Anyone out there still harboring any illusions that the hajj is simple or easy, please take a look at the following video clips.

— Ashraf Khalil in Muzdalifa

SAUDI ARABIA: Images from Mt. Arafat

Here are some photos of pilgrims at Mt. Arafat. Click on the image here to launch a photo gallery.

— Ashraf Khalil on Mt. Arafat

SAUDI ARABIA: Updates from the pilgrim trail

The Costa Mesa pilgrim group has run into problems on the road from Mt. Arafat.

Snafus with the Saudi authorities meant the group's two busloads of pilgrims left late for the Muzdalifa Plain — where they were required to arrive before sunrise Wednesday to head off on foot for Mina and the "Stoning the Devil" ritual.

The Arafat-Muzdalifa road was absolutely jammed and after about five hours, it became clear the buses wouldn't make it to Muzdalifa before sunrise. Imam Moustafa Al Qazwini led one busload, about 40 people, on foot for a two-hour pre-dawn walk through a chaos of teeming pilgrims and choking exhaust fumes. A second bus full of female pilgrims  was trapped even farther back on the road and several  of the men in our group had no way of knowing if their wives were all right.   

Our group arrived in Muzdalifa on time and slept for about two hours on the ground before continuing the foot journey to Mena. There they completed the stoning ritual, but then — according to Shiite custom — had to  wait for confirmation that the ritual sheep slaughter had been carried out in their name by Saudi authorities. Until the slaughter is confirmed, the pilgrims cannot remove their ihram clothing.

For reasons still unclear, the slaughter confirmation — which normally takes about three hours — has stretched into more than a day.

As of this posting, it's Thursday morning in Saudi Arabia. The two busloads have split into at least four different groups with many members still unaccounted for. A large pilgrim group remains at a campsite in Mina — essentially trapped in ihram. Small groups are trickling in to the group's Mecca home-base.

"I didn't know it would be like this," said one tearful female pilgrim.

— Ashraf Khalil in Mecca

WEST BANK: Decking the walls in Bethlehem

The little town of Bethlehem has become a giant art project this Christmas season, with Israel’s separation barrier serving as a canvas — and target.

More than a dozen foreign artists have converged on the traditional birthplace of Jesus to splash politically tinged images and messages on various bare walls around town. It’s all part of a happening called Santa’s Ghetto, a yearly forum for the works of street and graffiti artists that is normally staged in London. This time, the company organizing the event picked Bethlehem in order to highlight the barrier, which encircles the town in the form of a nearly 30-foot concrete wall. Organizers say they are politically unaffiliated and don’t speak for the artists.

The event, running until Christmas Eve, revolves around a silent auction of the works of two dozen U.S. and European artists at an improvised gallery on Manger Square, near the spot where the Bible says Jesus was born. Some of the featured artists, including the British graffiti artist known as Banksy, traveled to the Holy Land to spray, daub, stencil and glue new works all over Bethlehem. Proceeds are to benefit a children’s charity, as yet undetermined.

The burst of street art has created a buzz in the normally forlorn West Bank town, which suffered a drop in tourism after violence broke out in 2000 and has yet to recover. Municipal leaders also blame the barrier, which Israel says is needed to block suicide bombers, for the sagging economy. These days, visitors are coming to hunt for the Banksy images, including that of a girl frisking an Israeli soldier and of a flak-jacket-wearing dove in flight. Enterprising taxi drivers are reportedly charging $100 for a tour of the wall art.

On a recent day, the New York street artist known as Swoon braved a sharp winter wind while pasting colorful cloth pockets onto the Palestinian side of the concrete barrier. She was tucking slips of paper with hand-lettered messages into each. Her helper offered us one, a quotation ascribed to Martin Luther King Jr. It read: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” We said thanks, and zoomed off in search of more wall art.

— Ken Ellingwood in Bethlehem
   

EGYPT: Merry Christmas, mister

The vegetable seller glides beneath the magnolia on his bicycle; the burned-face boy washes cars in the street for pennies; the dogs retreat; the cats scatter across corners; men in tunics carry shovels, hoes and wrenches, walking through the neighborhood like a tiny army of the dispossessed, offering to fix whatever is wrong. It is a winter morning in Cairo. The night watchmen head home and the sheep will soon be slaughtered, they fidget and cower in the alleys. The sun is hazy, not its vibrant self. Children wear sweaters. The baker's kiln warms the praying men near the train tracks. A Muslim shopkeeper sells blown-glass Christmas ornaments to tourists, and the street-sweeper's broom raises dust amid the battered taxis. A man will bring you croissants, but it is better to choose them yourself, and to find a seat in the sun at the cafe and read the newspaper, feeling old amid the laptops and wireless connections in this ancient city.

The burned-faced boy wants more money. He wears sandals and a cap. He looks cold; his hands are hard and white with scars. It is not his face that makes you sad, but his pants, they are dirty and frayed and have stayed short while he has grown. He smiles. He wants another pound — 17 cents. A boy in this city can be happy for an extra 17 cents; it shouldn't be this way, but it is. He disappears down the wet street. Another boy will come and want to wash the cars, and another after that. But for now all is quiet, except the crinkle of the newspaper and the whispery voice of a woman balancing a child on her shoulder, approaching with a cupped hand. She takes the money, turns and in practiced English says:

"Merry Christmas, mister."

— Jeffrey Fleishman in Cairo