First Steps

Yesterday I officially became a Muslim.

I decided on Wednesday to actually contact the mosque in Charlottesville, since the one in Fredericksburg never called back. By Thursday, I had three enthusiastic emails offering help and many exclamation points. Friday after school, I drove myself the hour down to the mosque and finally found it. It turns out that I had found it before, but it never occurred to me that the little white house was anything but a little white house. This time I was tipped off by a woman wearing a hijab on the front porch, who turned out to be one of the people who had emailed me.

I showed up in time for dinner and then hung around through the women's prayer group. Everyone that I met was positively wiggly about meeting me. And I had four separate women offer to teach me Arabic.

The process was both more nerve-wracking and far less than I had imagined it would be. Essentially, I got to sit in front of a group of about forty people and repeat Arabic sentences that affirm my faith. I didn't feel an ounce of nervousness about it. And then everyone ate cookies.

The only thing I found nerve-wracking was how much everyone wanted to talk with me, and hear the story of how I made my decision. I'm always uncomfortable being the center of attention (especially when people are so happy they're crying). Much advice was thrown around, although most of it was for me to be patient with myself as I learn, and to take only the advice that was helpful.

Apparently, all of my prior sins have all been washed away (and thank goodness--I've been involved in some pretty serious mistakes). I don't feel as pure as everyone says I am. But I feel that I'm headed in the right direction.

Now I just have to tell my family.

In other news, Landlord let himself into my apartment yesterday while I was becoming Muslim and turned off the light I deliberately left on so I could actually see the way to my door. He also moved some things around while he was in here. I know that Landlord has the right to do this thing technically, but I felt very violated by it nonetheless. I'm feeling guilty about feeling so annoyed. So, is it okay that I'm so growly about this?

Today, I visited Syria, Virginia, because I was missing my visitor to Syria terribly this afternoon. It seems to be a little town that's built around a fancy country resort where they're currently having an apple festival. There were goats, and women riding horses down the road. I think I'll have to find out how my Syria got its name. There's nothing about it that resembles the Syria I've been hearing about. The leaves in my Syria are changing (but only yellow), and the air is lukewarm and smells of sweet, damp earth.