Pen in a Bottle

Salam Imad.

A survey about reversion

Salam Alaykum Imad,

Imad, first of all I want to thank you for inviting me to join your Arabic course in Concordia and I would like to take you up on that inshallah but not at this time as I have a lot on my plate.  I had opened up to you today asking if you know of anyone who could help me in my situation.  You mentioned to me about a Muslimah who offers halaqa's whose husband manages the Montreal Muslim News site that she may be able to help.  I did not think about it then, but I believe I already know her.  I thought you would be interested in knowing the story behind how I met her.  It is quite long so sit back with a mint tea and enjoy:

A few days before my second Ramadan in 2002 was to begin, I received a strange call from a woman with a thick accent who identified her self as Mrs Samman.  She explained she had gotten my number from a woman who offers lectures at the Mosque in St-Laurent.  It took five minutes to establish the purpose of the call due to the language problems, and though I still had no clue how she got my number, I gladly accepted her invitation for iftar (whatever that was).  She was planning to give a dinner party for newly converted sisters to Islam, and she happened to have mentioned this to the lecturer at the Laval street Mosque in St-Laurent who dug into her purse and pulled out a scrap of paper with my name on it.  I left the conversation still very much puzzled about who that mutual contact was.  I gave my number to someone?  I was not involved at all with the Muslim community and I wracked my brains for when that would have occurred.  After the call had ended it hit me who that mysterious woman might be.

At the end of Ramadan in 2001, my first one, I had a brief encounter with a sweet woman at a Mosque in St-Laurent.  At the time, when I chose Islam as my the path, I only knew Muslims I had met on the Internet.   It was an awkward time for becoming a Muslim because after the Airplane hijacking on 09/11 the visible Muslims all seemed to disappear from the street.  I wanted to share my Islam and start training to practice properly with real live Muslims.  I remember searching the phonebook for churches and finding no Mosques listed, but in the business section I found one listing for the Islamic Community of Quebec (ICQ), a social club I had thought.  I tried calling the number several times with no answer, just endless rings.  There had been quite a bit of resentment and violence against the Muslims and a pipe bomb was thrown into a Mosque so I imagine they were trying to avoid harrassing messages but through their avoidance I was lost in the shuffle.

Ramadan that year was in Novemeber.  I had two months to learn the ropes leading up to Ramadan and relied heavily on my internet Umah for guidance, but they had made many assumptions that I understood what they were trying to explain to me and so did I (the fact that they were French and I was English practicing my French impacted the understanding.  I probably missed a lot!).  They took me through the fasting and occasionally I would break fast in front of the computer screen while in chat to at least share it with someone.  As the end of the fasting drew near they excitedly spoke about the Eid ul Fitr, which I understood to be a community celebration with a potluck meal.  I decided to try my luck again with the ICQ number on the proposed last day of fasting to find out what happens for the Eid and where the event would be held.  I finally got a live person.

Brother Mohamed, answered the phone gruffly with a thick accent, and demanded to know the purpose of my call.  I explained who I was, that it was my first Ramadan and first Eid and I needed to know what to do next.  His voice turned to honey and he thanked Allah.  He proceeded to explain in the fewest of details in his broken English that we were to meet the next day at "eight o'clock" at a Community College and he gave me scant address details and hung up to take the next call.  I wrote down 8 o'clock, but was not sure if he had meant a.m. or p.m..  As it was a weekday, and that there would be eating afterwards, I assumed he meant eight o'clock at night.

I was glad to finally get a chance to be embraced as a new Muslim.  I duly went to the Eid setting off  at six pm with my heart pounding.  After three months of being a Muslim on my own, I was going to officially join the community with my public shahada.  I mused the whole hour and a half bus ride how it would be.  Maybe I would even find a husband!  I arrived at the address 15 minutes early, 7:45 pm, and it was already dark and snow was blowing lightly.  The flakes sparkled in the street lights up the drive and I admired them as I walked along.

With each step I became aware of how I was the only person there.  It seemed odd that there was not another soul around.  I did not think 15 minutes was too early.  The event starts at 8 so there should be a buzz of activity, I confirmed to myself as I walked along.  The bright property lights beamed a path through the parking lot to the front doors--they were tightly shut and no interior lights were on.  I checked the parking lot behind the building but there were simply no cars any where.

In the lamplight I checked the address and it was exactly what I had written.  Dismayed, I let out an exasperated yell in half disbeleif:  "I know it is the Ramadan following September 11 and that the Muslims would not want to gather too much attention--but this is unacceptable!"  I searched again for any signs, anything.  My anticipation soon disolved into frustration.  A wall of tears mounded up behind my eyes but I fought it off.  I was trying to think logically. "With no signs, no directions, how is one supposed to find the place?"

My wandering about caught the attention of the security guard and he came up to me to find out what I needed.  I explained I was looking for a Muslim gathering.  He said he thought that it had already happened this morning.  I thanked him politely and just stood there completely bewildered, then the tears broke through like Niagara Falls and I was reduced to a weeping mess.  I was too new a Muslim to have known what the fasting and the eid was all about and I could not understand why the brother on the phone, and even my friends had assumed I was fine.  I was not.  I was scared that I was not performing the rituals properly and I was tired of being alone.  My family hated me for my religious choice, I just needed some support.  I was sorry the brother did not speak English well, and I wondered if all the community was going to be like that.  My early return would have my parents grilling me for what happened.  "Nothing at all." I imagined myself saying, "I got it all screwed up."   I bawled the whole way home heaving huge sobs on the bus.  The last time I was in such a state a kind woman passed me an invitation to see Billy Graham, the TV and touring evangelist.  Then, I was “religionless”, but now, I was Muslim and completely out of the community.  I imagined it was always going to be like this.  I imagined never fitting in.

Once the crying had subsided, I decided I would try to go to the community center the next day.  When I got home, I opened the phone book and took down the address of the ICQ.  I left early enough to make it for the Asr prayer.  I arrived to find it was undergoing construction.  I remembered the brother had mentioned something but now I unserstood what he meant.  I stood at the door wondering what to do next and a small boy came to greet me.  He asked me to leave my boots at the door on a shelf and to follow him and advised me not to look around.  We passed through a room with men huddled in groups.  They turned their gaze away from me.  I felt like I was intruding on something.  It turned out, that because of the construction the women's area was being used for the men.  He led me to a room where two young brothers were studying.  They quickly scrambled to their feet and with and overt avoided me, and on passing me did not even say hello.  I did not know what the customs were supposed to be but so far, I felt as important as a speck of dust.   The boy told me to stay and he left.  Even he was not very cordial.

I had not done the dhur prayer and I did not know when the Asr was going to be.  There was no one to ask.  I was in the room by myself.  I proceeded to pray the way I had learned from video instruction on the internet.  I was certain I did them incorrectly.  Also, I had memorised the Fatiha and surat Ikhlas and Surat Falaq but had a cheat sheet in my pocket in case, which frequently happened, I got stuck on some lines.  I wrote it in a transliterated form and was certain that I did not pronounce the words correctly either.  I was grateful to be finally standing in a Mosque and I bumbled along in my prayer, forgetting everything.  A woman entered the room and caught me referring to my cheat sheet and I whipped around to see who it was, and seeing it was an older woman I resumed my prayer, thanking Allah profusely for bringing me a sister.  She sat down and watched me complete then came over to sit beside me.

She was gentle, but hard to understand.  Every second word it seemed was Insha'allah or peace be upon him, or subhannawatalla and other invocations.  We had a conversation about being a new Muslim and she regretted how little support there was for embracing the Canadian converts.  She knew of group studies for reverts and that if I gave her my phone number she would contact me if she heard of one for me.  We exchanged our numbers.  She offered prayer and asked me to watch how she did it and then immitate.  The imam called the Asr and we prayed together.  I went down for the sujud when it was time for the ruku and stood back up again.  Afterwards she counselled me on what to do when I make a mistake. 

I thanked her and I prepared to leave but she asked me if I would like to join her with the meeting she had with the Imam.  She was there because she had an idea that she was going to suggest about setting up a series of lectures there at the ICQ.  She asked me to go into the meeting with her to demonstrate live how needy the lectures were.  That was an experience.

The imam seemed to treat me like the other men in the mosque did.  There was no meeting of eyes.  He just spent the time staring at the floor, or looking somewhere else in the room as though he was not interested.   He was leery about how I came to Islam, rolling his eyes when he heard my story about converting through the internet and promised to pile me up with books so I could learn properly.   It was like he did not believe I was a Muslim at all.  He took my number and issued me out the door.  I collected my things from the other room and left, thinking about the whole experience.  I rushed back home to get the validation I needed from my online umah.  Most of my internet friends were male.  I could not understand how abrasive the men in the mosque were when the ones I knew on the internet were so kind.  It was obvious, more than books, I needed to learn how to interact with the community.  The paper the woman gave me was in my pocket.  I pulled it out and read her number.   I stuffed it back in my pocket and it got lost in with the candy bar wrapper.  I never did call her, and I made no further attempts to join the community.  I did not want to go back to the ICQ.  It was too far away and it was not worth it.

Much had transpired in that year.  I left my parent's home because their disdain regarding my religion was too hard to bear.  I had actually moved in with them because I had to leave my common law husband who did not join me in my conversion and I was homeless for a term.  I found work and moved in with a friend.  I continued to commune with my online friends and one evening I was so lonely for a husband and for someone to lead me in Islam I chose one of my internet friends as a husband and proceeded to discuss that and make plans.  I got a job selling telephone directories which paid quite a bit of money and I was able to save up enough to go to Algeria to meet and get engaged with my future husband.  He encouraged me to get involved with the local Mosque but I kept resisting.  I did not want to return to the ICQ and I did not know where else to go.  Though I knew there was a Muslim student association at Concordia, I could not find it.  The fact that I am dead shy did not help.  My second Ramadan was approaching and though I had already been to Algeria to visit my husband and felt I was a much stronger Muslim from that experience, he still wanted me to make an effort to share Ramadan with other Muslims.

Mrs Sammans' call out of the blue was a pleasant surprise.  It was my second full contact and how odd that it was directly related to the first.  She said that Fareeda, the lecturer at ICQ had given her my number.  Putting two and two together I realized that what Fareeda had planned to do happened that she was now lecturing and I was glad to see that she was successful.  Finally, with Mrs Samman holding a dinner party for new converts, Fareeda finally had the chance to follow through with her promise.  Ulhamdoulillahe.  How things do come together in remarkable ways!

The dinner party was a combined iftar and halaqa.  I went to the dinner party, very much relieved to be welcomed and embraced as a new Muslim.  It was a wonderful gathering, the room was full of women who had recently, within the past two to three years, reverted and were still relatively new with all that needed to be understood about the gift that Ramadan is for us.  Riad Qanbar was one of the guests.  She was born Muslim, and she was invited there to offer a halaqa to get us all informed about Ramadan.  Her lecture was simple:  Take small steps, do not expect too much of yourself, and put into practice during Ramadan what you can carry through to the rest of the year, such as offering extra rakat before the prayer.  She also explained that it was a time of year where you take a look at your activities and decide which ones are pleasing to Allah subhanna wa t'allah, and which ones are not, and to let go of the habits which are displeasing and to replace them with habits that are pleasing, like instead of going out to a movie, read the Koran.  Finally she mentioned that what ever we do that is haram, even if for a legitimate reason, it makes the fruit of that activity, whether good or bad, tained with haram.  She gave an example:  The money earned from a job that is haram, even if you do something good with the money, it is still dirty and makes the good deed dirty too.  Her words hit me in the gut.  My directories job was not halal.  It meant that my life at that moment was filthy, including my marriage to Faycal.  My world crushed around me.  I stood up and stormed out of the room crying and saying, "I have to go."

I worked the job honestly, I justified working there because the company did offer a real product and they followed through with their promises and they paid us consistently.  They just used dishonest methods to sell their product.  They called it assumptive selling, but it was not selling at all.  Rather, I called a company to update their records and make arrangements for them to receive their new directory.  It would proceed natuarally like the company has always been listed but they were likely not.  Without directly selling the directory to them, I made the assumption they usually do this and already know about it and are looking forward to the next edition.  It was simple and clean.  20% of the people we called did have a listing in the previous directory.  We were never told which ones they were.  I could not say if I was making a haram sale or not.  I allowed myself to continue working though as I got into it and realized it was a partial scam, it increasingly bothered me.  Some business directory companies are a scam.  This company had a real directory, and a real intention to make sure the company listing was correct.  I made it my job to correct listings.  I rarely made the quota.  It was the only employment I had.

I did not need a lecturer to tell me it was a questionable job, but the fact that I could not wash away the grime by doing good things with it made me sick. I had purchased a number of items with that money, not to mention basic living needs.  The computer I used was touched with that money.  I went to Algeria to meet my future husband with that money.  It seemed that everything that was good in my life was tainted with haram.  I closed myself in the bathroom and cried, knowing what I had to do (quit my work and find another, and figure out how to recover how to cleanse the things financed by my haram salary.)  [I still don't and now I have just passed my fourth Ramadan (2004)]

I dried my face after washing it 20 times and rejoined the party, red-eyed, and silent.  Riad left me alone but showed she was approachable and I went to her to apologize for my performance.  She was most grateful for my performance, and was very touched that her lecture had so deeply moved me.  She saw Allah working in me, and that it was a gift that I heard the message.  She offered me financial assistance and gave me her email in case I needed any help understanding Islam.  Riad has been a good friend and sister ever since.  She is, of course, the same woman you speak of, married to the Brother that manages the Montreal Muslim News website.  Riad, Nivin and Sirin and their mother, and Brother Abdul, and you Imad are all such blessed contributors to this umah we have here.  Now, during my fourth Ramadan as I write, I finally feel like a member of the community.  Jazakum Allah Khyrun to you all.

Nancy E Biddle

1. Gender:       F

2. Ethnicity:       

___ Caucasian

3. Currently married?       No (engaged)

4. Number of children:      0
           
5. Are you practicing Islam – praying, fasting, etc. – more than your spouse?

___ Yes      _X_ No            Other (please explain)

6. Have you filled out this form before?      No

[b]B. Before hearing or being exposed to Islam:[/b]

7. What did u think about Islam?

Violent and the religion of Arabs

8. Where did u hear all this?

Where else? The News and Media

[b]C. When you first experienced something positive about Islam:[/b]

9. How old were you? 33

10. Which country/city/state were you in? Canada, Montreal

11.      What was your education level at that time?
     
___ Undergraduate


12. Were you studying at this education level when you had this experience?

     ___ No. I had finished this education level

13. What was the first, positive thing about Islam that you heard, saw or
experienced? The peace I saw in other Muslims practicing, their way of being.

14.      Why didn't you become Muslim after hearing this? Weren't you
convinced?  Still, it was the religion of Arabs, a foreign religion.

[b]D. When you took your shahadah:[/b]

15. How old were you?      36
     
16. Which college/country/city/state were you in?      Montreal

17. What was your education level when you took your shahadah (became muslim)?

___ Undergraduate


18. What was the last positive thing about Islam that you heard, saw or
experienced that convinced you to take your shahadah?  A friend shared with me that it was the "natural choice" when I was vexing over the decision I had to make.

19. Turning point:  Select all factors that played a role in making you a
Muslim:
_X__ Friends:       _X__ Male      ___ Female
     
___ Husband      ___ Wife     

Please specify ethnicity of spouse: __Algerian/Arab____________

If spouse had a role in reversion, which state/country did you meet your spouse?
__Internet, but he was only a friend at the time, no courting was taking place.  I reverted by myself, but for marriage.________________________

_X__ Qur'an       I read the Fatiha 100 times over and over to understand 9/11

___ Books on Islam     

Media:  __ T.V.      ___ Radio   _X__ Internet

___ Relatives     

_X__ Spiritual feeling
     
_X__ Other factors. Please explain: _An overwhelming feeling of revulsion praying to Jesus as lord in church.  I walked out and never went back.  I looked at Islam more closely after that__

20. List the three most difficult things you faced after becoming Muslim.
Please explain briefly in a sentence about the difficulty of each aspect.

My parents believe I took on the religion of Arabs and somehow I am "sleeping with the enemy" and that I am going to be taken up by Al Qaida.  It has taken a long time to earn back their trust.

My dad detests the veil.  I am 39 and I can make my own decisions, but my parents are still very important to me.  He will not be seen in public with me.  His disgust is very discouraging.

I reverted with friends online and did not have a community in real life as many were in hiding post 9/11.  It has taken me a long time to blend in with one, but being single, I am not really a part of it even now.  The worst thing is the language and the cultural barier.  In this respect, it is still the religion of Arabs or other foreigners.  I doubt I will ever truly fit in.

21. Are there any other aspects of your story that resulted in your conversion?
Please explain.

I only wanted the purest way to worship Allah.  I thought Christianity would serve as a viable means if I just prayed to God, and not to the Son or the holy Ghost.  The trinity was all around me even if I was not praying to Jesus or spouting things in his name (may Allah be pleased with him) and one day I felt evil in the church service and had to leave.  It was then that opportunities came to learn about Islam.  I started out interested in learning Arabic but was afraid I would get pulled into the religion.  A friend on line asked me why I was so afraid, and I could not come up with a logical reason so I became determined to find the reason.  After much research I had to admit my friend was right, there was no reason to fear it.  Just as I was ready to take my shahada 9/11 happened and I was thrown into all kinds of confusion.  I searched online for the answers to how this could happen and found the Fatiha sorted it all out for me.  My friend who had originally challenged me was not available but ul hamdou lillahe a new online friend came along, "Wise Arab" who answered my last standing questions and reassured me that Allah invited me, cleaned my ears so that I could hear, and at my last "yes but" he said, "there is only one choice, Islam is the Natural choice" and I knew he was right.  I took my shahada at that very moment.

Nancy E Biddle © 2004