Magic Carpet

What's up ya'll. Trying to keep up with this blog is not always easy. Going from one city to the next, questionable internet service, and just being plane old exhausted. 'm going to try and update you on the past few days. Last when we communicating I was impersonating a wealthy person, and playing with pink yarn with the Turkish version of Martha Stewart. Since then I had an amazing last day in Turkey. It started with a visit to the Blue Mosque. It's one of those places that when you step inisde you start clicking your camera lick mad, not sure what to shoot first. Since I'm not a photographer, I don't think my pictures will do much justice. I made salat (prayed) inside the blue Mosque, such an enormus honor, to lay my forehead and my soul on that carpet. I started to loose battery power shortly after exiting the Mosque, and my 32MB memory card was full, so the driver was nice enough to help me find a camera shop where I was able to purchase a pricey new memory card. Next, off to the Hagia Sophia. One of the wonders of the world, you feel the history flow through as yo travel up its spine, from the main level to the second level. The walls and stain glass tell stories of Christian and Muslim period that span from 3AD. After viewing all that history, naturally we we were famished, so off we went to enjoy a traditional Turkish meal. Yum yum, full full, stomachs lined with Turkish cafe and plenty of energy now to be used on haggling at the grand bazarr. Like anyone else I purchased items for people I care about, and bought a Turkish rug for my home.
Our host Sevile then took us to a shop owned by her friend Errol. Errol is one of the most respected sellers of Moroccan rugs in Morocco. Errol was very generous, we all sat down and enjoyed some Moroccan tea as he laid prayer rub after prayer rug at our feet. Errol was not trying to sell us any rugs, he was simply trying to educate and share with us some of most beautiful and high quality rugs you may ever find. One rug, two rug, ten rugs, and then there was that rug. The color and pattern looked familiar. I was a child, and my father had a prayer rug that was a smaller version of the rug I was gawking at. I said out loud, that rug looks like my fathers old prayer rug. That statement was followed by unchained memories and tears. Everyone in the room knew this was a special moment, and it was clear to me I had to have that prayer rug. My father passed away several years ago, and I think of him always. Morocco and Turkey have brought me closer to Islam, and when I return home turn toward Mecca, and make salat, I will remember my father with every rakat.

Innsha Allah
Gamal