A Glimpse into a New Perspective

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A Glimpse into a New Perspective

The only religion I had ever experienced directly, like many other people, was my own, but I was always curious about how other faiths worshipped and led their congregations. Sure, my high school World History class overviewed the basic information about major religions, but I wanted to witness first-hand the holidays and ceremonies that were depicted in our textbook from the Hindu festival Diwali to the Hajj pilgrimage to Mecca. However, I never pursued this interest believing it was not my place to join in or spectate a group that is so devoted to their beliefs. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that my friend texted me: “Wanna go with me to my brother’s wedding thing on August 27? He is getting married at a mosque for his fiance’s religion” that this interest was reignited. My initial reaction was skepticism, afraid that I wasn’t allowed to participate in the ceremony since I wasn’t Muslim. She assured me that I could join in as long as I followed the dress codes and the code of conduct while inside the mosque. I was truly honored to be invited to this event as an outsider, and I was determined to be as respectful as possible.  I bought a long-sleeve maxi dress along with a head scarf and attempted to do some research on Islam rules in order to not do anything disrespectful. I ended up only confusing myself even more after overviewing a plethora of articles that gave me conflicting information. I decided I would just not do or say anything to ensure I would not make any wrong moves and hope for the best. 

On the day of the wedding, I got ready with my friend to ensure I got the appearance aspect right. She helped with my head scarf to properly cover my hair. When I looked in the mirror, the first thought that went through my head was “babushka”, but I stifled my impulsive giggle since even that seemed offensive. During this time, my apprehension worsened. I thought I was definitely in over my head and tonight was going to be disastrous. But, I knew I had to see it through to not disappoint my friend. 

It was a gloomy day with several rainfalls throughout our drive to the mosque in Minneapolis. Getting to the mosque was no easy task either with the complicated GPS navigation that would alert us to take an exit at the very last moment, making us drive around in circles in the bustling city. I focused my thoughts on the pitter-patter of raindrops landing on the car roof to drown out the yelling and deliberations of the family members that would have otherwise made me more anxious. When we arrived, we were heartily greeted by the in-law family, welcoming us in and congratulating the family. Even after finding out I was only a friend of the family’s, they still received me generously in as we removed our shoes. Upon entering, there was a faint and pleasant aroma of incense all around the mosque that I could only compare to the thurible used in the Catholic church. The mosque was warmly lit with soft carpeted floors and this new atmosphere almost immediately calmed my nerves and made me more optimistic to experience more. They showed us into the prayer hall where we had the option to sit on the floor or in a chair. We all sat on the cushioned floor as more people arrived and settled in. Then, the bride entered and sat down next to us, greeting and thanking us for coming. She wore a beautiful white gown and hijab and had henna tattoo sleeves intricately decorated on her arms. The ceremony mainly consisted of back-and-forth dialogue from Somali to English translation. Sitting in the back of the room on the floor made it difficult to see what was going on since there were men surrounding the mihrab where the exchange between the father and groom occurred. But it wasn’t long until someone announced that they were officially married and the two families were united. The room filled with cheers and ululations that I wish I could’ve emulated as well.

Following the ceremony, we were brought into a dining hall to eat the traditional foods prepared by the bride’s mother. One of the aunts was kind enough to walk me through what each item was and how to eat it properly. Everything was intensely seasoned with spices that I had never tried before, but complimented the bread and meats well. Out of everything I had tasted for the first time, the lentil-filled sambusas were by far, my favorite. The crunchy outer spring roll wrapper and spicy green lentils were addicting and made me go back for seconds. As we ate, family members would visit our table to congratulate us once again and introduce themselves. I was no longer nervous and realized that their rules were not as strict as Google made it out to be. I loved learning first-hand more about Islamic culture and hope to discover more of this and others in the future without fear of being shunned away.


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