Call to Prayer

Photo credit @Erin Deborah Waks

By Erin Deborah Waks

Five times a day, speakers project a muezzin’s call to daily prayers across Rabat. As in many other Muslim countries, the sound carries across cities to provide an accurate reminder of prayer times.

Religion is not just something that is accepted here, but lived, embraced. It’s everywhere: in the many mosques scattered around the city, in the Islamic writings on walls, in the socially-approved prayer in the streets. 

There is such beauty in the way I’ve seen Moroccans practise Islam. I see taxi drivers stop in the middle of the street to pray, women cover their hair with a hijab, halal butcheries sell meat on the streets. When I saw a man kneeling on his carpet to pray in the middle of a public park, and another pulling his car over to pray, I was filled with an understanding of the importance religion can have for so many people here - and, what I hadn’t realised, for me.

I’ve met Jewish people here and had a taste of the hospitality and kindness of Moroccan Jewry. I’ve explored synagogues and Jewish shops, and talked to Moroccans about Jewish culture in the country. 

People here are free to belong to whichever religion they desire, if they desire, and how they desire. Feeling a part of a larger community, connected to those around you through religion, is a big part of the vibrancy of Rabat, and other Moroccan cities. The same immediate link with people around you and feeling of home I recognise in Judaism. All the beautiful things that remind me why for me, being Jewish is an important part of who I am. 

But it’s not seeing Judaism present which has really sparked the spiritual part of my identity while living here. Rather, watching how the sensation of belonging to something bigger than oneself permeates the culture here has reminded me why my own religion is so important to me. I’m overwhelmed by how deeply love for religion is accepted - celebrated - here. And I believe it’s the city I’ve been most reminded of how deeply I love, accept, and celebrate my own religion. 

It’s strange, but somewhat fitting, that living in a Muslim country was the place I felt most connected with my Judaism.