While L. was at her last two classes, I decided to check out a mosque I'd seen earlier. It's called the Huaisheng Mosque, reported to be one of the oldest in China. I asked to visit the mosque around 10:30 am, but I was not allowed. After walking around and getting a plate of noodles, I found the mosque open for Friday prayers. The mosque greeter allowed me to go through. In Muslim tradition, I took off my shoes and sat on a matted area off to the side near a wall. Men were streaming in throughout the service. A few women walked by, most in scarves, but some were not. Only one was in an abaya. The women would disappear into a W.C. (written in Chinese and Arabic) where they would wash up before going into a separate room behind the men to pray and listen to the service. Most of the worshippers were Chinese, but quite a number were of other ethnicities (Middle East, Africa, etc.). Many men wore white robes (mainly the non-Chinese) and white caps, but many also looked just like the average Chinese student or businessman on the street, dressed in slacks, polo shirts, jeans, t-shirts. The muezzin gave the call to prayer through a microphone and speaker. I couldn't see where the muezzin was, but it didn't appear to be coming from the minaret itself. At times during the call the muezzin would break up in tears. After that, an imam gave the sermon in mandarin Chinese, which some Arabic phrases sprinkled through. It lasted about 10-15 minutes. In my section of the compound, many were talking and even chatting on a cellphone, not paying much attention to the sermon. Given a significant portion present probably didn't understand Chinese well, that was understandable. I only understood parts that talked of Muslims being brothers and neighbors to one another. Then came another talk in Arabic. It sounded like a different person. People seemed more quiet and attentive during this time, although I'd moved to another part of the compound. I noticed one building, the largest one on the compound and presumably the mosque itself (it had a Chinese-temple design) filled with more worshippers than any other part. Signs by its door read, "Admission for Muslims Only". After the Arabic talk, the prayer was conducted. It went much like the ones in Seattle, except here they face west during prayer (they face north in Seattle). After the prayer, the congregants dismissed. I took a few pictures and walked outside.
Outside, many beggars gathered around the mosque entrance. They walked through the crowds of Muslims asking for money. These beggars were quite grossly deformed. I saw a few folks give, but most were ignored. One Muslim was handing out rather large bills...before he knew it, he was completely swarmed and had to make a dash for it, tossing the bills over his shoulder as he ran. I gave to a few. The beggars in this area are quite aggressive. It's interesting that they know to hang out by churches and mosques to get what little they need.
I was able to come back home for a couple hours before we headed out to a final international teacher dinner, hosted by the university. (L. was given a university umbrella as a farewell gift). We sat with two families - the C's, who are also a part of JHF and the G's - a family from Spain. L. and Mr. G. got into a spirited discussion about the merits of bull-fighting (something that Mr. G is very passionate about), adoption (Mr. G. believes one should have one's own children), and giving birth to boys over girls (which Mr. G. thinks is better). I think what shocked L. and I more than anything was our assumption that being from Spain and thereby Europe, Mr. G. would be more liberal in his opinions. We found quite the opposite. L. felt Mr. G. might do quite well in India.
