Behind the Scenes
La Grande Mosqée de Touba
You will be rewarded soon for the single minaret of the mosque is enough reason to travel 4 hours in a car meant for only half as many people it currently held. Dried sweat sticks to your face and body as a child cries in the seat in front of you, yet you still utter to yourself, “its all worth it…its all worth it.” The sept de place eventually stops and just as you attempt to get your bearings, you are met with merchants attempting to sell everything from goats to microwaves. The chaotic nature of Senégalese bus stops are things of legend. Finally dodging the many salesmen, you see it. Through the settling dust kicked up by a nearby sept de place leaving, you see it, erected in the middle of the city in all its glory, a single minaret stretching to the heavens.
I grabbed the nearest taxi and within 30 minutes, I was standing before the great mosque. Interesting enough, this single masjid serves as the greatest pilgrimage site for muslims here in west Africa and you can instantly see why. Its beauty is truly immaculate. Walking past the first set of gates, your feet are instantly met with the cool sensation from the tiles and with the immense heat looming, it was truly an oasis amongst a harsh desert. The sun was horrid, so horrid that I was forced to take refuge under a small room where the floor was covered in the mosaic prayer mats from the Far East.
“Walking past the first set of gates, your feet are instantly met with the cool sensation from the tiles and with the immense heat looming, it was truly an oasis amongst a harsh desert.”
I sat there, my back pressed against the wall, watching as people dressed in a spectrum of color passed through the halls before entering the main building. It was truly a spectacle. I had been in love with the color this region of the world wore on their bodies. I could honestly stare at them for hours, watching as vibrant oranges and blues passed through my gaze.
It wasn’t long before the call to prayer began blaring over the intercom. The room grew silent as the pilgrims began putting away their Quarns and began walking to the wash area to wash their hands and feet before joining the others in afternoon prayer. I watched as the men splashed water on their face and arms, attempting to become clean before talking to their lord. I joined them in prayer, finding a spot next to the other men in line. Its truly a beautiful feeling, I an American muslim, joining other muslims in prayer across the world, standing shoulder to shoulder to strangers.
The imam soon ended the prayer and I shook the hands of those who were praying beside me. I introduced myself as Ibrahim, the lone American here to learn about Senegalese culture. Their eyes grew with excitement, rarely seeing Americans in this part of the world. We engaged in quick conversation before I continued walking through the grand mosque. I soon stumbled upon another room filled with prayer mats. Each mat rested a pilgrim on top of it, fast asleep. It was a place of solitude, I couldn’t help but join them on the mats soaking up the peace. Its hard to believe that such a place existed amongst such a busy city.
“It was a place of solitude, I couldn’t help but join them on the mats…”
I thought back to the bus station I was at a few hours ago, the chaos that was swarming around and now I sat here, in a place where tranquility filled the atmosphere. I sat there resting, watching as the colorful people continued to pass by before closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep.
Peace was the only word that I could think of to describe this place as I began to make my way back to the chaotic bus station, but not before having some traditional touba coffee with a man I met outside the mosque. Touba coffee is famous throughout the region. An artisan beverage that mixes local coffee grounds with the aromatic flavors of Guinea pepper and Selim. It was not long before I had found a spot in the sept de place back to Dakar. As the car began to pull off, I reflected on my trip to the grande mosque, its beautiful mosaics, the way the refreshing cool tiles kiss the bottom of your feet. It was a place of solitude, a place where the chaos stops and the mind and the body were at peace. My time in Senegal was unlike any other and will always have a special place in my heart and whenever my mind is racing or my heart pounding, I will think back to the mosque, to the resting pilgrims, the decorative mosaics and tall chambers, to the peace and solitude that looms .