California 2000, Part 1

"Where would we be without them? Having to pay for accommodation for a start!
But to be serious, I am slowly coming to agree with a close friend's view,
though he is not a Tablighi himself, that "since the movement began, the
Tablighis have done more than any other group." Most of the other groups seem
at best talking shops full of overused rhetoric and at worst, mere sloganists."

May this mail reach you in the best of Iman and health;
Pray that I am in the best of Iman and health when this reaches you.

Assalamuaalikum,

Inshallah all's well with all. It's been a long while but here's the next
instalment...


THURSDAY 21 SEPTEMBER

I don't know where exactly I woke up so can't tell what time it was. It was
somewhere above the Pacific Ocean and it was sometime in the morning. It was a
comfortable night's sleep on the plane.

The Air Pacific flight arrived on time in Los Angeles. But it took me far
longer getting through immigration that it ought to have. Partly because I was
totally engrossed in 'Sophie's World' and partly due to an ambiguously phrased
question, I'd completed a form incorrectly. But rather than allowing me to
amend the form I was rudely told to join another queue. 

This queue, for those in similar situations, was administered by some of the
rudest immigration officials in the world. I'd never encountered such rudeness.
They treated the people with total disrespect. One French lady who was having
difficulty with the English asked an official "I can't speak English, do you
speak French?" "No lady, I don't speak French, I speak American." Such
arrogance. I was fuming but have learnt that immigration control isn't the best
place to vent one's anger, especially before one has gone through.

This second time around, I went through without any problems. I was followed by
one who saw us in the mosque in Nandi. He'd come to visit his brother who was a
resident in LA. I was hopeful of free board, and if not then at least a free
trip in to town, but unfortunately he got held up at customs and I lost him.
Had lost Mustafa long ago.

I was looking forward to this day for some time. Today was to be the day when a
friend, Sheikh Faizal Miah, was to join us from London. But his arrival time
came and went. I feared that he might have missed the flight. I couldn't find
Mustafa either. But did manage to find, or rather they found me, plenty of
youth hostels touts, including a couple from the UK. Most were offering sun,
sea, sand, surf and all night parties. I was well and truly back in the land of
hedonism.

Eventually I was rescued from the clutches of these vultures. Mustafa and the
Sheikh came and found me. (The Sheikh's flight was not via BA and not due at
the terminal we arrived at, two details Mustafa neglected to mention.) It was
great to see the Sheikh! Embraces were followed by chats about the plan for the
coming week.

We'd decided that we were gonna travel by hired car but that we'd hire after
seeing LA. But on the way to finding a tout Mustafa had met we bumped in to
good weekly rates. Took the curtesy bus and after much deliberation about the
type of car, hired the luxurious (by our low standards anyway) and massive
(Chevrolet?) Dodge Intrepid. More deliberations about whether to take out
insurance followed. I was in two minds so let the Sheikh and Mustafa decide.
They went for it, the thought of having to cough up the 30,000USD value of the
car probably paying the biggest part in their decision.

The insurance policy only allowed for the Sheikh to drive. Both Mustafa and I
were underage and I didn't even have a license. The policy for under-25s would
have cost a lot more. But Mustafa said he was 25, trying hard to be allowed to
drive legally. "This card says that you are only 24". "Yeah I know, but I'm
really 25. You know how these things..." Mustafa replied, expecting the
Pakistani clerk to understand. You had to be there (and be aware of the
accuracy of dates on subcontinent ID cards) to appreciate how funny that was!

And so we drove the monster away. The Sheikh took the helm out of the car park.
Having not driven for ages, (and despite the honoured title!), the Skeikh was
very unconfident. Mustafa too over and we headed for LA's grandest mosque,
following directions given by the Pakistani. 

The Saudi funded mosque was an impressive sight. We'd just missed Maghrib
jamaat but prayed in our own little congregation. Afterwards, we tried
following directions to some halal cafes. The Sheikh was more comfortable at
driving this time but we couldn't find the cafes. We settled for a pizzeria,
the owner of which had to open the door, locked in fear of the nasties of
society, to let us in. Welcome to LA.

I'm sure the pizza tasted better than it was for we were very hungry. The
company was better. It was like we were back at home. It could've been a PFC in
London and not a pizzeria 7000 miles away. To paraphrase Mustafa "It's the
company, not the setting"

It was now my turn to drive. I started on the wrong side of the road. It was a
very wide car, too wide and too easy to hit the kerb. Drove back to the mosque
and prayed Isha. And then came the big question. "Can we spend the night in the
mosque?" was Mustafa's question, in Arabic as suggested by the Sheikh to
increase the chances, to the Arab Imam. The Imam apologetically answered in the
negative, giving the lame reason that it was against regulations. We weren't
allowed because it was a 'Saudi' mosque. During the whole tour we were denied
in four mosques. Three of them were Saudi. We didn't try hard at the other one.

But the Imam was helpful in offering to open a school nearby if we were really
desperate. But then came to our rescue a group of Tablighis! Where would we be
without them? Having to pay for accommodation for a start! But to be serious, I
am slowly coming to agree with a close friend's view, though he is not a
Tablighi himself, that "since the movement began, the Tablighis have done more
than any other group." Most of the other groups seem at best talking shops full
of overused rhetoric and at worst, mere sloganists.

Though they may've initially thought that we might be on Jamaat ourselves, they
offered accommodation even after they knew that we were mere travellers. With a
brother for company, Mustafa drove us to a mosque in Inglewood, which is not
far from the airport. The latter seemed to be very nervous about the driving!

After chats with a group from Thailand it was off to bed, or rather the mosque
floor. The jet-lagged Sheikh fell first. It was still afternoon for my body
clock but I tried to sleep, only to stay awake listening to Mustafa receiving a
major bollocking from an Egyptian taxi driver. You expand Mustafa!