Andrea is Muslim??!!!!!

People have anticipated evening 29 of Ramadan for endless days, hours and minutes. On the 29th night if the moon is visible the next day is the celebration of Ramadan. Luck was not on the side of Leloumians as the huge storm rollled in mid-afternoon day 29 and sat on the mountains and destroyed any chance of seeing the moon.

When the celebration finally came (day 31) moon or no moon the grand fast was broken. My friends invited me to the special place where everyone prays during the fetes (celebrations). The whole village put on their new clothes they had specially made or at least their cleanest clothes and with prayer mat in hand walked to the sacred place of prayer facing the surrounding mountains. True to the culture everything happened quite slowly. The women’s place slowly filled up as did the mens. We waited for almost an hour until the government official came with his family. Twenty minutes later he returned again but in a SUV with a running siren which they use as the town ambulance. This time he brought only men with him (the stragglers or maybe other goverment officials). Instead of the blaring microphone (that regularly echoes through my house) alerting people that it was time to pray, a drum was played. Within minutes people were standing and the prayer started.

Since I was there I figured I would pray as my friends were doing. I stood bent slightly at the waist chanted “Allah Wak Bah” and fell to my knees on the prayer mat touching my forehead to the ground. Technically, everyone was praying and would not know if I was praying “Christian-style or Muslim-style”. However, since the whole village was there someone must have spotted me. Almost 2 weeks later, people are still asking me if I am Muslim. It is with great pleasure that I tell them that I BELIEVE there is only one God and I was praying to her. I use the word God because my French is not strong enough to explain my belief in the the higher power. After the 5 minutes it takes to pray, I went to greet all the old women and any friends I saw in the crowd of nearly 3,000 people. Finally, back to the house to change out of my traditional Africian outfit (in which I look very silly complete with headwrap) and to the kitchen. I prepared bananna bread in a a dutch oven on my gas stovetop for my contribution to the meal. It was the 1st time any of my friends had ever tasted bananna bread. It received rave reviews. Sucessful cultural exchange...prayers for food!