Photo: Baxter Jackson

We didn’t plan on breaking the law that day, it just kind of happened that way.

Not far from the dusty desert confines of our ersatz, dawn-pink villa, we hail an orange and white taxi as the sun rises on the first day of Ramadan, the month of fasting and spiritual renewal for Muslims everywhere.

The Islamic code of conduct it stipulates – no eating, drinking, smoking or fornicating from dawn till dusk – is now in full effect and in public places, is applicable to us infidel types as well.

The idea is to build Islamic unity and empathy through self-sacrifice. The consequences for breaking the Ramamdan code range from tongue ’tisking’ for Muslims and arrest for non-Muslims.

Nevertheless, in the excitement of scoring a cheap taxi-ride from Ibri to Al-Ain, a town on the other side of the Omani/Emirates border, thoughts of Ramadan take the backseat to the scenery whizzing by outside: white villages, undulating sand dunes, a herd of wild camels, the Western Hajar Mountains in the distance.

The Hunger

After traversing the 150 kilometers from our adopted-home of Ibri, Oman to Al-Ain in the United Arab Emirates, all we can talk about is food.

Photo: macca

With the previous two weeks limited to thermally-abused Chinese meat, no cheese (except for lubneh) and only two kinds of cereal at the ‘supermarket’ in Ibri, we’re salivating over the prospect of a ‘hypermarket’ fully-stocked with western goods in Al-Ain.

Maybe even bacon! Thoughts of Ramadan (and the consequences of breaking it) as fleeting as a desert mirage.

The tree-lined streets of Al-Ain turn out to be as empty as our stomachs. Only a handful of Indian merchants and Pakistani day-workers mill about the usually bustling fruit and vegetable souq.

Asking a lady in a sari where we can get breakfast, she bobbles her head and points across the super-highway. Grumbling across the flyover we find the place she bobbled about to be nowhere in sight. All the restaurants are closed.

Cursing our luck, we magically stumble upon a western style grocery store. All the products we had nearly forgotten we couldn’t live without are there: Havarti cheese, Dr. Pepper, fresh-ground beef and fifteen kinds of breakfast cereals!

My head is reeling. Without thinking, I order a danish from the bakery and cram it into my mouth in front of a young Muslim family. They nearly gasp.

Scene Of The Crime

Out the door with baguettes, smoked-turkey, Dijon mustard and Doritos, all we need now is a place to eat discretely. It is Ramadan, after all and we don’t want to be culturally insensitive, let alone end up in jail.

A breakfast-picnic in a secluded corner of the palm oasis behind the souq seems just perfect. Unfortunately when we get there it’s hotter than the blacktop. We’re melting faster than the cheese. Hungry, overheated and cranky, we grab a taxi and do like most Emiratis do when it gets too hot – we go to the mall.

The air-conditioning is breathtaking. Past the ice-rink and into the semi-private confines of the family-section of the mall’s food-court, we spread-out our picnic and eat like barbarians, hoping we won’t be spotted.

Just minutes into it, however, a mustachioed security guard approaches, informs us we’re in violation of Islamic law and instructs us to leave or face arrest.

We plead with him. We have no place to go. “Come with me,” he commands, furrow across his brow.

Gathering up the ‘evidence,’ we follow him into a backroom. Lumps form in our throats. He sits us down solemnly. The sign on the wall next to what looks like an interrogation table says ‘employee rest area’.

Then, with an unexpected smile he announces “You can eat here, no problem.”

We thank him profusely, grateful for our soon to be full-bellies and freedom on this most auspicious of days, the beginning of Ramadan.

Have you or are you planning on participating in Ramadan this year? Share your thoughts in the comments!

I was seriously considering becoming an undercover agent of the Lord.

In exchange for some back alley preaching and a few hush-hush conversions to Christianity here and there (a sort of save the world one heathen a time kind of thing) Azusa Pacific University was offering me (at 50% the going rate) a Masters of Arts in TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages).

The impetus for such a bargain basement MA is a spiritual battle being fought in tandem with the physical conflicts in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Palestine in what Christian missions strategist Luis Bush calls the “10/40 window,” an area stretching across North Africa and Asia from 10 degrees south of the equator to 40 degrees north of it.

According to Southern Nazarene University’s Dr. of Missions Howard Culbertson, of the 55 least evangelized countries, (countries with the least amount of actively proselytizing Christian missionaries), 97% are within the ten forty window.

In the vernacular of the Christian Coalition, of which George Bush is a supporter, these countries are known by the corporate like moniker of Creative-Access Countries (CAC’s).

Egypt, my home for the past 9 months, just so happens to be one of these countries.

Means To An End

Photo DavidDennisPhotos

What makes Egypt a CAC is that although the government generally tolerates missionary groups, if they actively recruit converts, it is seen (as in most of the predominantly Islamic world of the 10/40 window) as a violation of dhimmitude, the concept under which proselytism by non-Muslims is strictly forbidden.

While there is no state law saying that it is forbidden to change one’s religion, it is a common fact that in Egypt, a convert from Islam to Christianity risks being arrested and imprisoned. In stricter Islamic countries, the penalty for apostasy is often death.

Ironically enough, groups such as the Christian & Missionary Alliance seek to save Muslim souls through the teaching of a subject that George Bush, a self-professed born-again Christian, seems to have skipped one too many times at Yale: English.

Rather than using the teaching of English as an end in itself (as it should be, in my opinion as a English teacher) it is being used as a means to an end.

The end of “saving” Arab souls somehow justifies the means of outright deception and manipulation. This Christianized version of the old bait & switch con may indeed be, as touted in a recent article in Christianity Today “the ultimate language lesson.”

The article’s author explains the strategy behind the stealth crusade quite succinctly with this bold statement: “Start an evangelical church in Poland and no one will come. Start an English school, and you’ll make many friends.”

The Process Of Apostasy

Here’s how it works. Once a potential “agent of the Lord” is identified and screened for covert operations in a potentially hostile environment, work platforms and visas are secured by a sponsoring organization.

In an industrialized nation such as China, the pretext to secure the needed documents is to teach English through an already established institution such as a university. In developing countries such as Egypt, a community or health center is often opened so that English and/or computer classes can be offered as the front to hide the true motive of evangelization.

Integral to such neighborhood centers is a coffee shop or lounge area where agents and potential converts can chat. Once the relationship that begins in the classroom is deepened between the teacher and students over coffee and conversation, the process of apostasy is well under way.

Ed Mangham and his wife Julie have opened three of these centers in an undisclosed Creative-Access Country.

In a recent magazine article “Building on a Grand Heritage” the couple related how their centers are full of former Muslims. In fact, 95% of the students in their English and computer classes are Muslim and 75% of the patients in their clinic are.

The couple’s success, they suspect, may be attributed to the more subtle methods of modern day missionaries. Ed notes that the means may have changed from a formal church setting “to sitting down to talk with an Arab who does not know Christ – whether it’s over bitter Turkish coffee – or an espresso in our center’s coffee shop.”

The end remains the same: convert Muslims to Christianity.

Good Intentions

The issue, as Julian Edge clarifies in his article Imperial Troopers and Servants of the Lord, and as I see it also, is one of transparency.

By dressing their true – albeit well intentioned motives – in the guise of teaching English, these missionary groups are not conducting themselves honestly (1 Thessalonians 4:12; 1 Timothy 2.2) nor with due candor (James. 5:12) as scripture entreats them to.

They are tarnishing the noblest of all professions, a profession that Jesus was a part of himself: teaching.

Rather than operating by the Christian principles of transparency, honesty, and integrity these covert missionaries have opted for the easier softer way of false pretenses, deception, and manipulation.

And intentions, no matter how good, tend to produce more harm if not conducted with honesty.

What do you think of covert missionary work? Share your thoughts in the comments!

Photo: Zaninni H

My dad was the first in the family to see it.

Fresh off a hitch on an Egyptian oilrig, he had a house full of friends and family to entertain with tales from abroad.

Much to the delight of his guests (but to my horror) his story about the third eye of Islam culminated with his finger tapping against the middle of my forehead, as he asked pointedly, “How’d you get that mark right there, Mohammed? Huh? Huh?”

Shrugging his shoulders and slapping his forehead to answer his own question, he busted out laughing. Guests followed suit.

Personally, I didn’t get it until years later when I came face to face with it on the Cairo metro.

Meeting The Eye

As the train chugged along the tracks, I felt like something was watching me. Turning my head slowly to the right, there it was – smack dab in the middle of a good believer’s forehead: the third eye of Islam.

My dad’s anecdote popped into my head then – and now every time I see one (which is often), I think of him.

While my father’s theory had been entertaining, I knew there was probably some kind of alternate explanation for this strange mark I was seeing between everyone’s eyes. To get to the bottom of this, I decided to talk to a specialist.

According to Dr. Sameh Attia, Professor of Dermatology at Mina University in Cairo and noted researcher on “Moslem prayer nodules,” the mark was nothing more than a callus in a seemingly incongruous place, the forehead.

In the Middle East, this epidermal phenomenon is commonly known by its Arabic name zabeeba, which means raisin. As it turns out, it was neither the finger jabbing nor the palm slapping that caused the mark as my dad had hypothesized, but one of the five pillars of Islam itself.

Worship Meets Reality

The doctor explained that praying and prostrating oneself towards Mecca five times a day (as stipulated in salat, the second pillar of Islam) means putting repeated pressure and friction on the forehead when it meets the carpet.

Photo: T Bet

As the full weight of the body is placed entirely on the forehead during the 34 daily prostrations (part of the five daily prayer sessions) the mark naturally begins to appear over a period of years (with four years generally the minimum amount of time required).

Dermatologist Sameh Attia agreed with this summation of the situation: 5 doses a day of religious inculcation + years of Islamic prostration = epidermal accumulation. As a medical specialist, however, he preferred to call it by its clinical name, hyperkeratosis.

The process of hyperkeratosis or calvus (as it’s also known) is accelerated through the exposure to secondary fungal and bacterial infections found where calluses normally preside – on bare feet.

A Mark Of Distinction

As worship is a communal experience and ritual cleansing of the extremities with just water are a part of that process, it does not remove all fungus and bacteria from the feet.

When the forehead meets the floor, the pressure and friction “plow the field” so to speak, and there among the corns of the guy’s feet in front of you, the seed of a zabeeba is sown.

A callus sown on a Muslim man’s head is like a key to the heavenly palace; it is brought about by the notion of social devotion and awarded with communal deference and general reverence.

It is, as Dr. Attia pointed out in his article Muslim Prayer Nodules, “a badge of distinction.” Some say that even the Prophet Mohamed, peace be upon him, had a zabeeba.

Small wonder it’s purported that some fake it till they make it.

For just as some falsely modest women can wear the veil, so can some less piously inclined men fake their zabeebas. So if the third eye you spied on the metro appears to be moving with each passing day, something besides piety may be a foot.

After all, with just a little sandpaper and soot, the payoff can be huge.

Girl in red / Photo Rajeshburman

If you’ve never heard of Oman you’re not alone.

When I explained to my mom that it’s a country bordering Saudi Arabia (more executions last year than Texas), Yemen (a purported Al-Qaeda safe haven) and Axis of Evil holdout Iran (just a skiff ride away over the Straight of Hormuz) she nearly fainted.

Personally, I was intrigued. Oman’s geography lent the place a certain degree of mystique.

My curiosity won out, and the generous tax free salary and 60 days of paid leave didn’t hurt either. But still, I wondered – how could I live and teach in a culture so demonized by my own?

In a post-9/11 world, Muslim bashing has become what gay bashing was twenty years ago – socially acceptable.

Speak a derogatory comment about Islam or Arabs and your interlocutor will – if they’re not Muslim, of course – more than likely throw out one of their own epithets.

Stoking The Fire

Take these remarks from western religion, press and government as recent examples:

In June, the Reverend Jerry Vines described the Prophet Mohammed as “a demon possessed pedophile” to his 25,000-member congregation at the First Baptist Church in Jacksonville, Florida.

SBC’s current president, Rev. Jack Graham, a pastor to 20,000 at the Prestonwood Baptist Church in, Plano, Texas agreed with his assertion that “Allah is not Jehovah … Jehovah’s not going to turn you into a terrorist that’ll try to bomb people and take the lives of thousands and thousands of people.”

Post 9-11 tribute lights / Photo sister72

In a June interview with NBC’s Katie Couric, nationally syndicated columnist Ann Coulter noted that, “it might be a good idea [for Muslims] to get them some sort of hobby other than slaughtering infidels.”

Her position has softened considerably since last September when Coulter argued that, “we should invade their countries, kill their leaders and convert them to Christianity.”

A North Carolina state legislator echoed the sentiment of the Family Policy Network, a conservative group currently suing the University of North Carolina over the required reading for freshmen, when he stated on a local radio program that, “I don’t want the students in the university system required to study this evil.”

William Lind, of the Free Congress Foundation declared bluntly that, “Islam is quite simply, a religion of war. They [the Muslims] should be encouraged to leave.”

The Seeds Of Fear

The attacks on the Twin Towers in New York have brought our collective fear of the Middle East from the background into the forefront of our minds.

Yet according to Edward Said, a professor of comparative literature at Columbia University, the seeds of Western prejudice towards Islam were planted when the religion was born.

When Berber Muslims from North Africa invaded and conquered Christian Spain in the 8th century, general prejudice towards Islam blossomed into a real political and economic fear throughout Europe.

“It is no coincidence,” notes Professor Said in an International Herald Tribune article, “that Dante places Mohammed in the next to last circle in hell in his Divine Comedy, right next to Satan.”

After 700 years of circling us in our collective fear, the general apprehension became real terror again when Ottoman Turks sacked Christian Constantinople, converting it to Islamic Istanbul.

Since that time, and most recently with the events of September 11th, the West has lived in fear of what Austrian nannies, hoping to scare their children into behaving properly, used to call the Mohammedem, the followers of Mohammed.

Small wonder my friends and family seemed apprehensive when I told them that I was moving to the Middle East to teach English in the Sultanate of Oman.

Teaching In Oman

Fort Ibri / Photo author

Upon arrival at the small provincial college in the northern hinterlands of Oman, my first experiences did little to dispel those oppressive images seared into my western consciousness: a relentless Arabian sun beating down on whitewashed buildings; separate entryways for male and female students – boys through the front, girls round the side.

Mirrored shades and five o’clock shadow on the security guards at their posts. Capped with parapets and buttressed with sentry walls and watchtowers, the campus looked more like a prison than the Ibri College of Applied Sciences.

Inside, date palms brought no relief and little shade to the teenage girls scuttling from the air-conditioned confines of the dormitories to their classes – the black veil of their hejabs and the aromatic scent of hand sanitizer fluttering behind them.

Young bearded men sporting starched-white dishdashas (wrist-to-ankle shirt-dresses) and embroidered caps congregated in the ‘male passageway’ – their starchy scent hanging with them as they waited for their cue to enter the lecture hall – my arrival.

Already seated on the left side of the classroom were the girls – quietly respectful in their modest hejabs and long black abbeyyas (an all enshrouding polyester gown of sorts). As the boys in white shuffled in and took their seats on the right, I took a deep breath before jumping into the matter at hand: teaching the academic essay.

Beyond The Veil

As a teacher, I soon began to see beyond the veil. My new students were shy, giggly and easily embarrassed in person (one student actually showed up with a note from the doctor excusing her from an exam because of giddiness).

However, in their writing, students like Aisha, Afrah and Rahma (meaning Life, Happiness and Mercy) shared their lives and religion as the others did – openly and with a clear sense of duty.

From the very first essay on Ramadan (where their passion for their faith became obvious) to the assignment on the five pillars of Islam, to the process paper on the rituals performed during haj (ideal for teaching chronological order), writing about Islam became our vehicle of mutual discovery.

When I discovered that all human activities can be classified along an Islamic continuum of haram (forbidden), makruh (discouraged) and hilal (acceptable), it seemed preordained that I should use this classification scheme for teaching purposes.

Writing the categories of haram, makruh, and hilal on the white board, I asked my students to classify certain behavior.

After we brainstormed, it became obvious (except for a few like drinking human blood and adultery) that in the black and white world of Islam, there was much more grey than meets the eye.

Voices Of Modern Islam

Shy Omani girls / Photo author

When I designed an assignment on the evolution of Islam in the context of Omani society, I was sure that Ahmed, Mohammed and Rashid would have no problem writing an intro that would grab the readers attention.

But the point I was most interested in was their concluding paragraph. This final thought was supposed to predict what behavior would someday move from “forbidden to discouraged”, and from “discouraged to acceptable.”

Here they balked. Understanding the historical context of why a sheep is sacrificed at the end of Ramadan (Abraham did it to give thanks to God for letting his son live) was a far cry from predicting how the lives and values of their children might be different from their own.

The fact that we were sitting in a mixed gendered classroom, that most students listened to non-Islamic songs on their mobile phones, chatted with the opposite sex online or via ‘love SMSs’ and that some girls wore make up and let their hair show from under their veils seemed to escape their attention.

The thought of their parents engaging in such behavior was unthinkable. The fact that they were doing so now was embarrassing.

Halima, Shamsa and Hanan begrudgingly conceded that Omani society was slowly becoming more liberal, more westernized. Hashil even ventured to say that non-religious music might someday move from between forbidden and discouraged to just plain accepted, insh’allah (God willing).

But they all stubbornly clung to the idea that recent developments marked the extent of potential change.

Fatma’s Decision

Most interesting of all was Fatma’s view on the changing nature of Omani society. Unlike the other girls, she was bold, ambitious and decidedly not giggly.

While she wrote of her own journalistic aspirations in hopes that female reporters would be more accepted (there’s currently only one in Oman) she lamented the general decline in morality in a society where no sex before marriage still actually means no sex before marriage.

After class, Fatma lingered for a moment. Gliding towards the whiteboard I was wiping clean, she actually thanked me for the assignment.

I was pleasantly surprised. As unaccustomed to such gratitude as I was, I still managed to fish for more of what she liked about it.

Smiling demurely, she confessed that like many her classmates, she too had become lax in listening to secular music. And as a direct result of the essay she had repentantly deleted all the songs in her cell phone, determined to turn over a new leaf.

Suddenly flabbergasted, I watched her half curtsy and float from the lecture hall in her elegant black abbyya – the female embodiment of the Omani ideal, forward looking where it counted but traditional at heart.

Community Connection

Interested in teaching English overseas somewhere off the beaten path? Check out the 18 Most Scenic Places for Teaching English Overseas.