The clothes I am taking to hajj are more conservative than I normally wear, so I have been scrounging abayas and longer headscarves and looking for thick socks to wear for circling the Kabah 

I have tried to mentally prepare myself as much as possible. I have sat with a teacher of Islam to go through the logic and the practicalities of hajj, I have read books, studied news reports and perused hajj preparation websites, and I have spoken to people who have performed the hajj, and still I don’t feel ready.

In my cozy apartment in Cairo so many miles from Mecca, hajj feels overwhelming at this point. I have to admit to getting cold feet, what am I doing?!

Logistically, the whole thing can be a nightmare. With millions of people descending from every corner of the planet, many have told me to try and be patient with the “crazy things you will see”. I’m not sure what that means, but I imagine it has something to do with having to digest the hundreds of different cultures and habits in the span of four days.

The sheer idea of those millions of bodies crammed into the small space of the Great Mosque, circling the Kabah, is at once miraculous and overwhelming. More worrying perhaps is the real risk of falling ill. Both my mother and sister came back with horrific flu and bronchitis when they performed hajj – and this year swine flu is on the loose. Saudi Arabia has urged people to be vaccinated before coming but many governments haven’t enforced inoculations for their pilgrims. Who knows what strain will be found there? I have packed my own first-aid kit with hand wipes, cold and flu medicines, ibuprofen and Band-Aids.

The clothes I am taking to hajj are more conservative than I normally wear, so I have been scrounging abayas and longer headscarves and looking for thick socks to wear for circling the Kabah.

But the great challenge is not simply the religious rituals that have to be carried out to the letter, it will be keeping my emotions in check so I approach my devotions with the correct spiritual frame of mind.

 I imagine the cool air of the night in Mecca, and I like to think that in the presence of the building Muslims believe is the House of God, in my mind I will really be the only person at its feet 

Impatience, loss of temper, a slip of the tongue with a swear or a harsh word can all count against you in whether your pilgrimage “counts”. I worry I will get angry, feel ungrateful, begin to wish I was back at home or that it would all end quickly because of all the difficulties I am facing.

Then again, no one said hajj was supposed to be easy. On the contrary it is supposed to be a difficult and arduous task. It is supposed to challenge your patience, your temper and your spirit. So when the hugeness of hajj overtakes my imagination, I try to recall the peaceful scenes that are painted by images I see on television of the Grand Mosque filled with its pilgrims, and with the stories of beauty and happiness that are brought back by those who have fulfilled this fifth pillar of Islam.

I imagine the cool air of the night in Mecca, and I like to think that in the presence of the building Muslims believe is the House of God, in my mind I will really be the only person at its feet.

As a reporter, I will be in the lucky position of being able to ask people about their experience and their feelings, and I intend to draw inspiration from those I speak to. But also I will draw inspiration from the thing that possibly daunts me the most – the number of people, the millions of pilgrims humbly making the journey to the place where they believe they can be heard by God the clearest.




*Published in the UAE's THE NATIONAL on Nov. 21, 2009. Hadeel al Shalchi is a writer for the Associated Press, based in Cairo.