It's day three of the Eid Al Fitr celebrations, and I'm in the female guest majlis with two adult women and about 7 children. I wonder slightly if I've been pushed into "kids room exile" just as at Thanksgiving dinner there's a kids table for guests who can't quite cope with adult conversations. A, M's younger sister comes into the majlis and asks if I want to take a rest. I am, after having been fed two rounds of "coffee" and lunch proper, as well as driving/riding in a vehicle for nearly three hours, tired by now. I express that I am tired, and am then asked to come to another room in the middle part of the house, which is the parents' bedroom.
In the bedroom, there are about 3 1-meter wide closet units with doors, a few blankets piled in the corner, a plastic straw mat covering the majority of the floor, and some odds and ends. In the middle of the room, one of the adult female relatives is in the middle of afternoon prayer. I tell A that I can wait to take a nap once the woman is finished with her prayer, but A and her teenage female cousins insist that I sleep in the room while she prays. A blanket is fetched for me, and the most out-going cousin stands on a chair to reach a 150cm x 75cm x 10cm portable mattress from the top of the closest cupboards. In trying to pull down the mattress, she loses her grip on the mattress and the whole thing hits the woman while she's in the middle of a rakaah ("prayer cycle" is the best that I can explain this word), bending forward at the hip. I'm mortified that such a fuss is being made about my nap and that I'm interrupting this woman's prayer ritual, but the woman keeps on with her prayer and the girls go on as if this happens all the time. There is a brief discussion as to which direction I should lay in relation to the box air conditioner on the outside wall. It's decided that I should lay perpendicular to the AC and parallel to the woman praying. The pillow is placed on the mattress, and the out-going cousin, H, says: "Okay, now you sleep." I stand there for about a second and a half, waiting for them to leave, but they don't. With the exception of the woman in prayer, nobody in the room moves, especially not the four young children hanging out at the entrance of the room, staring at me. I conclude that there really is no end to this until I make a move, so I lay down on the mattress on my left side, with my back to the woman praying. The teenage girls start to leave the room, but the children speak in hushed whispers and giggles as they observe me take off my eye glasses and rest my head on the pillow. It isn't until I completely close my eyes and wait about five seconds that the children give another hushed hearty giggle, then leave the room, closing the door behind them. The room is now quiet, except for the hum of the AC and the soft movement of chifon upon chifon as the woman works through her rakaahs. In my mind, I try to remember how many rakaahs are in the afternoon prayer. Is it four? Or five? Definitely not two; although, I wish it were two so that I can nap without anxiety. Eventually she finishes, steps over me and the mattress, opens the door, closes the door softly, and then I pass out for a solid 20 minutes.
In the bedroom, there are about 3 1-meter wide closet units with doors, a few blankets piled in the corner, a plastic straw mat covering the majority of the floor, and some odds and ends. In the middle of the room, one of the adult female relatives is in the middle of afternoon prayer. I tell A that I can wait to take a nap once the woman is finished with her prayer, but A and her teenage female cousins insist that I sleep in the room while she prays. A blanket is fetched for me, and the most out-going cousin stands on a chair to reach a 150cm x 75cm x 10cm portable mattress from the top of the closest cupboards. In trying to pull down the mattress, she loses her grip on the mattress and the whole thing hits the woman while she's in the middle of a rakaah ("prayer cycle" is the best that I can explain this word), bending forward at the hip. I'm mortified that such a fuss is being made about my nap and that I'm interrupting this woman's prayer ritual, but the woman keeps on with her prayer and the girls go on as if this happens all the time. There is a brief discussion as to which direction I should lay in relation to the box air conditioner on the outside wall. It's decided that I should lay perpendicular to the AC and parallel to the woman praying. The pillow is placed on the mattress, and the out-going cousin, H, says: "Okay, now you sleep." I stand there for about a second and a half, waiting for them to leave, but they don't. With the exception of the woman in prayer, nobody in the room moves, especially not the four young children hanging out at the entrance of the room, staring at me. I conclude that there really is no end to this until I make a move, so I lay down on the mattress on my left side, with my back to the woman praying. The teenage girls start to leave the room, but the children speak in hushed whispers and giggles as they observe me take off my eye glasses and rest my head on the pillow. It isn't until I completely close my eyes and wait about five seconds that the children give another hushed hearty giggle, then leave the room, closing the door behind them. The room is now quiet, except for the hum of the AC and the soft movement of chifon upon chifon as the woman works through her rakaahs. In my mind, I try to remember how many rakaahs are in the afternoon prayer. Is it four? Or five? Definitely not two; although, I wish it were two so that I can nap without anxiety. Eventually she finishes, steps over me and the mattress, opens the door, closes the door softly, and then I pass out for a solid 20 minutes.
1 comment:
i guess that's good practice for being able to fall asleep just about anywhere. but also it would be a very strange way to fall asleep.
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