Friday Prayer

The cool thing about having my half-day on Friday is that I leave school around lunchtime, or the time of Friday prayer. It’s about a ten-minute walk from school to the bus stop, which is across the street from the neighborhood mosque. So every Friday I get to see the men congregate. As I’m leaving school, I hear the call to prayer (the second of the fifth of the day). On my way to the mosque I pass the Antalya Court of Justice, so I get to see all the judges walking over. I watch as they wash their hands and feet (in these special fountains outside) and cleanse themselves before prayer. The outside grass and concrete is lined with prayers rugs, as the mosque is always overflowing. Their shoes are all piled along the fence. The men sit down and the imam starts his talk. The fuzzy microphone makes it impossible to attempt to understand anything. Something I find really interesting is that the call to prayer is in Arabic, and then they switch to Turkish for the sermon. Outside the mosque, a small market is set up, with everything being sold from fresh fruit and vegetables, to socks and underwear. It’s sometimes awkward when I walk by and my dress or skirt blows in the wind. But these men, ranging from guys my age, to really old men, aren’t paying attention to me. They are quite focused, listening and repeating their prayers. It’s always funny when they leave and light up their cigarette.