Hajj time

I'm posting this at 3 a.m. cuz I can't sleep. Thank you, insomnia. Let's see if I'm a little more off my rocker than usual.

Well, it's time for Hajj, aka time to educate my readers about the tiny bit I've learned while living so close to Mecca. So, Hajj is basically the pilgrimage that's required for all Muslims. It's such a big deal that they've made it a pillar. (So, Islam has five "pillars"--statement of faith, prayers, giving, fasting, and pilgrimage. No other religion as far as I know refers to its most important duties as "pillars"--one more linguistic mystery for me to solve one day.) Last year during Hajj, about 2.5 million non-Saudis flooded into Jeddah donning this one-piece white towel-y-looking garment, which always for some reason reminds me of Gandhi. (p.s.--Gandhi? Not a Muslim. Don't get confused here.)

My first awareness of the Hajj-phenomenon came through an essay I read in college, which of course I now can't remember the name of, but which was a personal memoir of attending Hajj. All I remember of the essay is how crowded Hajj seemed. You've got 2.5 million foreigners, plus Saudi pilgrims, plus Mecca's actual inhabits, crowded into one city that normally holds 1.7 million people. It's got to be one of the worst places in the world to bring a bunch of small children--imagine trying to hold on to a three-year-old in that kind of crowd.

I can't say I've learned a whole lot since then. There's something about running between two mountains to symbolize Hagar's search for water for her son. People pelt pebbles at some columns that represent the devil. They circle a black box and pray. I think there might be some sheep sacrificed. Everybody is required to do every thing in the same exact order at the same exact time, which means that enormous crowd follows you everywhere. Or maybe you follow them?

All this ignorance of mine just highlights the fact that pilgrimages are sort of lost on Westerners. We don't really have a concept for the kind of preparation you'd do to make a trip like that, or the kind of importance it would have to you.

Instead, we have retreats. Ah, the phenomenon of the personal retreat--it's not about going anyplace special; no, it's about getting away from everything normal. Get out into nature, particularly. (Well, in my crowd anyway.) Have a mountaintop experience. Connect.

Why does humankind need to get away from the normal to feel as though they are really connecting with God?

My brain is fuzzy. I can't think about theology at this time of the night.