O P o t B

Coffee, a drink made in heaven, well almost.  Perish the monk who took the devil seed and distilled it to make the first cup of coffee!  Now if he patented the idea, he could have left his goat herd behind and lived a life of complete opulence and excess, not only him but the rest of his offspring for all eternity. Thank God for small mercies, the monk lived in a time where patents were not even invented yet and fortunately or unfortunately,  I am not sure which, monks are celibate. But enough bantering about the origins of coffee and the possibilities of what could have been, coffee is a drink that is close to my heart and, well, the cornerstone of my fluid intake.  Now I have been told that coffee is a diuretic, I am hoping the water in the coffee is enough to compensate for this effect, however somehow I think not, I live in hope. Coffee comes in various forms from fine powdered instant coffees to full bodied roasted coffee beans, which have to be ground and b...

I tried to think of the individual days of Hajj and what I experienced through those days, but all I can pick out were specific events while the rest of the experience escapes me.  For example I remember walking to the tent city of Mina, but I cannot remember what time I donned my Ihraam.  Day 1, entering the tent city of Mina my heart is filled with joy. I have reached the first stage of the journey.  The census states that there are two million pilgrims who are participating in the ritual of Hajj, and for the first time I get the real feel for what it means to be part of this multitude.  A sea of white, moving relentlessly towards its goal, my existence pales into insignificance and I am humbled.  It is the day of rest and I have made the journey on foot.  I locate the camp and tent the group has been assigned to and taking up a foam mattress I lie down.  I spend the day resting, supplicating, praying anxiously waiting for the dawn of the Day of Me...

I wake up early, well before the call to the early morning prayer.  I turn on the shower and discover that I had forgotten to turn the geyser. After a cold shower, I anxiously throw on my clothes, drape my saal over me and make my way to the mosque. The air is crisp and cold. People fill the streets as they make their way to the mosque to secure a place inside.  I make my way through the throngs of people and find a place in the new extension.  After sitting down, I take in my surroundings. The mosque has been extended a number of times. This section has a high roof supported by a number of arches. Columns reach down from the ends of the arches and are planted firmly on a plinth supporting the enormous weight of the roof. Above me is huge dome, which can be opened lest the heat inside the mosque becomes oppressive. Shimmering Brass clothes the columns where they meet the arches and the plinth too. The mosque is filled with pilgrims and there is a murmur in the air as ...

Packing enough clothes for a ten day stay, I carry the luggage to the bus. A relatively modern bus with air-conditioning and nice comfortable seats. It is an eight hour drive across some five hundred or so kilometers. Taking my place at the back of the bus we make our way out of the city of Mecca. The road we are following is roughly along the path that our Prophet and his trusted companion took, across the baron landscape with rocks, stones and sand for company. The hot sun beating down and the chill of the night as the heat dissipated into the cold dry desert air. The bus chugged along relentlessly wheeling its way towards our destination. Out of nowhere across a rise, a petrol station. An oasis in our midst. We clamber off the bus, the searing heat rising to meet us. A time for relieving ourselves and then to the ablutions before gathering together to pray. A short lunch and we off again. A couple of miles down the road the bus comes to halt. The engine cooling system cannot k...