30 Masjids 🟩

By Aman and Bassam

Today, I decided to stay in my neighborhood and visit Masjid Aqsa. The mosque is a couple of blocks south of my apartment on 116th and Frederick Douglas. The community is predominantly West African. It is said that this area also houses the majority of the Senegalese in New York.

Similar to other masajid in Manhattan, vendors surrounded the entrance selling everything from Madani Dates to Nike socks. One of the more interesting vendors sold dried fish.

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In the prayer area, a man handed out apples and bananas before iftaar. Many congregants bought their own food and were setting it out. There was also a sizable female congregation separated by a curtain.

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By the time we got to the masjid, the majority of the congregants were in the basement.

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The basement was overcrowded, but everyone willingly made space for us latecomers. With an apple in one hand and a date in the other we broke our fast. The Maghrib prayer was led by one of the three Imams of the masjid. His recitation was so beautiful, I asked the person next to me where the Imam was from. He replied that he was from Burkina Faso. As he spoke, I grabbed my bag and was preparing to leave to grab some halal cheeseburgers. But the brother, Abdul Qaasim, insisted on us to stay and eat with him. In fact, after I was done with the sunnah prayers, I again tried to say my goodbyes when Abdul Qaasim grabbed me by the arm and led me to back to the basement. On the way down, he introduced me to the other Imam and requested one of the volunteers to take special care of us.

The hospitality during Ramadan has been unbelievable. There’s something in the air, and the weather only seems to get better.

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I wasn’t able to attend Taraweeh prayers at the mosque, but my friends that did said the sister’s area reached capacity and many were praying outside on the concrete. There is something to say about the comfort and confidence of Muslims in New York City. Sure, with the number of wierd things happening here — I once saw a man displaying korean poetry as he slept in a cardboard box — putting your forehead on concrete might just fall into the background.

By Aman and Bassam

Today, Aman and I trekked out to Madina Masjid. It’s located in the heart of the Lower East Side of Manhattan.

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The masjid sign outside reads, “Islam Is The Way. Read The Quran The Final Revelation.” An interesting sign for a predominantly upper middle class white neighborhood.

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Similar to the 29th st. masjid, we were filed into the basement to break fast. Everyone sat shoulder to shoulder waiting for the adhaan to be called. Food was served before the prayers. The arrangement seemed odd at first, but it made logistical sense.

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Everyone was sitting on top of one another in the small basement. One would think the congregants would get irritated fairly quick, but people seemed to laugh at the arrangment. Jolly sardines packed in a tin can.

A Pakistani man searched for rice in uneaten plates and left everything else untouched.

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Eating food prior to prayer naturally leads to a large queue for wudu.

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Thankfully, the prayer area easily accommodated all of us. The majority of the congregants are either passing by the neighborhood or work in proximity to the center. Many of the lectures that take place in the center are in Bangla. The masjid is also Tablighi Jamat friendly. In fact, I once ran into an uncle here from my hometown masjid in Houston.

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As I left the masjid, a man stopped me and said, “Salam akh, I’m giving out free kufis.”

“Oh yeah?” I replied.

“Yep” He quietly examined my head and continued, “you know, the golden one would fit you perfectly.”

I was intrigued to see this golden kufi. Inside the prayer area a lonely stool sat with two kufis.

I asked myself if I could rock a golden kufi, maybe in a decade.

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By Aman and Bassam

This place provides refuge from all the posh fashion shops up and down Lexington Avenue in midtown Manhattan.

I broke my fast with some milk, dates and a plum.The people who go there consisted mainly of young professionals, who mostly work in the area. The person I sat next to was named Waleed and works for the investment group Barclays Capital. He’s a cool guy and is coming to my apartment soon to see if he can back up all his Guitar Hero smack talk.

After prayer, I was extremely tempted to try the Turkish restaurant next door to the mosque. But then I saw the Arabic food they were serving inside the mosque:

It was rice pilaf, pasta, salad and lemon chicken. Amazing. No seriously, amazing.

But the Turkish restaurant next door looked good too. Maybe I can go to it next time I’m in the area shopping for $700 jeans at Armani

By Aman and Bassam

Wow. This mosque hiding behind the trees is believed to be the largest mosque in the NYC area. Its primarily funded by the Kuwaiti government.

Lined around the masjid gates were vendors and congregants waiting for iftaar.

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This is also the first masjid in New York that resembles a traditional masjid.

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There was a brief drought of dates which led everyone to attack the bananas. Thankfully, a new batch of dates appeared on the table with the accompaniment of milk.

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Maghrib comes in and we still didn’t hear the adhaan. So when a congregant had enough guts to eat a date without hearing the adhaan, we all followed. It was the first time I ate a date at a mosque without the adhaan accompanying me.

The mosque provided food so we ate there as opposed to going to a restaurant. It was catered food from the infamous Kabab King.

We ran into our friend Rasul Miller and some of his buddies so we kicked it eating our food outside, cracking jokes and talking politics.

Outside of the mosque stood a Bangladeshi man who was selling vegetable and chicken samosas for a dollar.

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Don’t be fooled by the little cart. Not only did he serve hot samosas, he had bangadeshi rice, bananas, shezan mango bottles and, of course, chai. All the ingredients of my mother’s iftaar pulled around Manhattan and plastered in gift wrapping paper.

By Aman and Bassam

I was in a hurry to get home today, so I ended up just going to the mosque on E. 110th Street, about two blocks from my house.

Afterwards, I went to the Halal Chinese restaurant nearby. I just moved to this neighborhood about a week or so ago, so it was my first time going to the restaurant. Pretty nice guys, I ordered the Singapore Mei Fun (its what I typically get at any carryout Chinese place, its rice noodles mixed with chicken, shrimp and beef). Yum.

By Aman and Bassam

Tonight my friend Bassam Tariq and I came up with an insanely random idea: What if we prayed at a different mosque every single day for the month of Ramadan? Hence, this Web site was born.

Tonight we prayed at Masjid Rehman, located on West 29th Street and Broadway. The place was insanely jam packed, you should have seen how many taxi cabs were parked outside the place.

This is a true story: I was so cramped inside the masjid, that when I went down for sajdah (the prostration), some guy behind me had his head between my feet.

I didn’t realize that, so when I got up for jalsah (the sitting), I ended up sitting on his head. And it took me about two full seconds to realize the rock-hard cushion I was sitting on was someone’s head lol.

But hey, I actually love praying in mosques that are cramped. I dunno, to me there’s something beautiful about dozens of people swarming a place for the common goal of worship.

They gave everyone there free boxes of Desi food. It was pretty good, it had biryani, chicken tikka, kabob, roti and chick peas inside. Serious props goes to the people who made the food, which must have been for at least 200 people