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Where the earth screams in horror
12/02/2010 - Issue 46
Travel and trade on the holy pilgrimage
by Paul Naylor
A caravan trading tradition marking the end of Eid al-Adha that dates back to the 7th Century arrives in town, but with inflation and faster travel options the custom is slowly dying out.
Around mid November, by the Zahira Autostrade, curious trailers, trucks and coaches bearing number plates of unfamiliar character line up around the square by Ayyubi Al-Ansar mosque, each flying the green flag of the Hajj.
Overnight this unremarkable car park is transformed into a buzzing market. Men with long beards, colorful hats or Asian features wander around and everywhere Russian, Turkish and other exotic languages fill the air. But only two weeks after the end of Eid, they have left as mysteriously as they have arrived.
The caravan route trading goods from Asia to the Middle East was established in ancient times. By the middle of the 8th Century most of present day Central Asia was under Islamic influence, so Muslims from that region were obliged to travel south for the Hajj, as well as for trade.
Tracing the route
First traveling north to Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan, the pilgrims then head west through the Russian controlled Urals, Chechnya and Dagestan, skirting the Caspian Sea and continuing south to Azerbaijan. A quick cut through Georgia, Armenia or Iran and they reach Turkey.
Crossing the Anatolian peninsular south west, they end up at the Syrian border. From there to Aleppo and Damascus, from Damascus to Jordan and from Jordan, to their destination, Mecca, a route barely changed since the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) first demanded Muslims complete this journey.
But what do these pilgrims bring with them to sell?
“The winters in Dagestan are very cold,” explained Abu Sayyed, from Uzbekistan, “so we country folk stay at home and make woolen garments like jackets, socks and hats when it's too cold to go out.”
Nadia, from Dagestan but now settled in Syria, sells jumpers she has knitted at home. Each one takes her a month to finish, she says. She remarks how strange it is each year to see so many people from her home country again and seems to be enjoying the atmosphere.
Language difficulties can be amusing.
“This one is $500,” says a lady selling antique clocks. No one is really sure if she means American dollars or thinks that this is the name of the local currency here. It is sold in any case.
Sensory overload
What of the food on offer? Most of the stalls have dark chocolate wrapped in rich red paper decorated with either a picture of the Kremlin or a blonde woman. There is halva, biscuits and children's lollypops, handmade from candy, and a wide selection of more curious products.
There are also many types of fish: salmon, sardines and, of course, caviar. “In Dagestan we eat this caviar, spread on hard toasted bread with butter,” says Osman, a student at Abou Nour, in Rukn ad-Deen, who hopes to be an Arabic teacher in his native country. “With a pot of tea, there is nothing better.”
The best thing about the market is the honey. The range of color and taste, and all at a good price, is an amazing sight. Rustam from Kyrgyzstan has the biggest selection. Some in jars, others in Coca Cola bottles and even a honey comb with parts of the hive still attached, he lets me taste them one by one as his little son looks on.
How locals get in on the action
Syrians like Hisham, a market trader in Souq al-Hamidiyya, are also a vital part of the trading operation. He lets the traders use his storage space while they take pilgrims to Mecca.
“Each group has two buses, one for goods, and one for the journey to Mecca. I look after the goods and bus while they're gone. I don't charge them rent though, God will give me a better reward!” Hisham says.
“Plus, I also benefit because they let me work on their stalls, sell my things with them and we also do exchanges. The pilgrims are not as interested in making profits as they are in religious learning, so they want mainly Qurans, Islamic ornaments and clothes. We come to an agreement - say six children's jackets for four Qurans - and we swap. The jackets come in handy at home for my family.”
As night sets, stalls are put away while the women get out their gas stoves, cooking a meal of dried meat, cheese and tinned vegetables they have brought with them on the journey.
Closer to God
Some, like the “Bicycle Man,” have taken an even more difficult mode of transport than others, completing the (4,015 kilometer) route between his native Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan to Saudi Arabia on a push bike.
“The trip took me a month and 10 days, I was exhausted,” he said.
“I didn't have the money to take the bus. I took all my food with me, on a trailer I attached to the back of the bike.
“Along the way I usually found a place to sleep in petrol stations or bus garages, and many people took me into their home when they learnt I was on the Hajj so the costs weren't that high. But the main reason was that I wanted to see more of the world, and I wanted to really push myself out of dedication to God.”
Unfortunately the Hajj trade is declining. A combination of an increase in the price of goods in the country of origin, Russian import/export restrictions and the availability of faster, simpler modes of transport direct to Mecca have led to the tradition of trading on the Hajj practically dying out.
