Love at the Grand Mosqueé de Paris

  

  

On Tuesday I returned to the Grande Mosquée de Paris to talk to the imam so I could bring the case of the orphan girls of Sierra Leone under his eyes. The guide at the entreé told me to walk through the garden and then look at one of the doors on the right. I arrived at an open door with on the wall a plaque: religious affaires. I knocked on the door and entered. A tall man in brown traditional clothes sat behind the computer and looked at me without a smile. I told him I came from the Netherlands especially for him. I asked if I could sit and made a move towards a chair next to his desk. "No"-he answered, "I'm busy. What do you want." So I explained that I was an avant-garde imam and that I came to Paris to see if it really was the city of love by asking help for the orphan girls of Sierra Leone in the form of hospitality of religious leaders. His answer was short: "No, this project is not part of my job. Good bye." I left the room, disappointed. The least he could do is show some manners towards a lady who came all the way from the Netherlands to see him. His actions now towards me did not seem in coherence with his sermon of last Friday. Wasn't this month supposed to be the holy month to do good deeds ?
I didn't get any reaction from the ladies with red lipstick who worked at the office. It seemed the grand mosqueé failed the test. I went outside. My shoulders were hanging. I felt really sad. These were representatives of my religion, the religion with the compassionate and loving God...
Outside I went to sit with a beggar at the entrance, an elderly female dressed in a black hijab and pink sunglasses. After the sadness inside the mosque she cheered me up and made me feel welcome. I asked about her background. She told me she was Moroccan and when I told her I was a guardian of sidi Yahia (Saint John), she responded that she was born inside a Marabout (a holy site in Moroccan Islam). She was a 'shrifa', a descendant of the prophet Mohammed. The poor ladies of the Grand Mosque see her as their teacher, "the one who knows everything", a Senegali begger said. I felt very comfortable with her. She was warmly smiling and talking to passerby's. A Jewish-Muslim couple came out of the mosque. The Jewish man wanted to convert for the Muslim lady he was with. The lady gave my friend some money and her Jewish partner gave something too. The imam had just told them that it costs 300 euro to get the imam to perform the wedding ritual with them. They didn't have this money and came out of the mosque disillusioned.  The begger heared them out and immediately came into action to serve them. She seemed to know all the Islamic rituals and practically knew everybody in Paris. She would send them the answer. I said that I am an Avantgardistic imam myself.  The Jewish guy seemed very interested to have me perform the blessing of the marriage. His lady friend was less Avantgardistic and made the discrete excuse that she was not dressed for the occasion on which I agreed. I had a question myself. "What is the best, most compassionate synagogue of Paris?" I asked to the Jewish guy. "You need to go to the Synagogue at the rue de Tournelle. A very good place with good people." We greeted the couple after they gave me their email address. I would write them about the best place to perform an Islamic marriage in Paris.
When the couple left I felt a bit ashamed to ask, but she was the last person at the mosque who could save the face of this institute and this religion. I asked the begging lady if she had a place for me to stay to help the suffering orphan girls of Sierra Leone. Her answer was: you are always welcome in my home. I felt shivers over my body, the begging lady of the Grand Mosqueé de Paris saved the mosque. There was love in the mosque, but in an unexpected place.


Yours truly,
In service of Allah the Great,
Salima el Musalima
Avant- Garde Imam