Religious Intensity at Sayyida Zaynab Mosque

Sayyida Zaynab Area: This area is a popular (common, poorer) quarter of Cairo. People definitely aren't used to seeing tourists, and I was the only outsider I saw on my venture. The district is significant enough to have a metro stop, carrying the saint's appellation . Sayyida Zaynab is the patron saint of Cairo and granddaughter of the Prophet Muhammad. The mosque named after her encloses her shrine and is located on a square also bearing her name. Her memorial is surrouned by a finely worked bronze grille, although of an alloy that looks silver. I had read that it is a highly-visited pilgrimage site. And it did seem a bit like the Lourdres of this part of Cairo. Outside, I could see the maimed and poor, lying or sitting before the doorways, asking for donations. One woman with a bandaged ankle was stretched out on a mat resting on her elbow directly next to the mosque entrance. Others in need were offering miniature Qur'ans for a contribution or simply begging. I got a small red one with gold script for a small contribution. It must have been ladies' time/day, since I was allowed to enter the part of the mosque with the shrine. I asked the man collecting the shoes if I needed a scarf; and he said "no." He also said I shouldn't give money to anyone on the inside. I was surprised and the liberal (or so I interpreted it) gesture of headscarf-waiving definitely did not prepare me for what I found inside. I saw women standing with their heads pressed intently against the tomb enclosure, as if beseeching a higher power. While waiting for an older woman to rise with assistance from the floor (there were no chairs), I began taking pictures, when suddenly a caretaker, collecting money and presiding over a niche along the shrine, began screaming at me to delete the pictures. I deleted the ones including her.

Other women were seated on a carpeted floor around a small court area, offering supplications or pleading for help for serious concerns. One of them in a corner, with legs stretched out in front under her black gown, entreated me to sit down beside her. She and the alms collector, relentlessly yelling "delete, delete," looked through all of my pictures, until they were satisfied that the necessary ones were gone. The woman on the ground noticed that I had the small Qur'an, given to me in exchange for a donation. She wanted it, began reading the verses, kissing it, praising Allah and Muhammad, and seemed to be indicating that I shouldn't have it, since I wasn't a Muslim. She intuited that I was American. She didn't seem hostile but certainly wanted to express her passion and love for the Prophet and her religion in the face of my calm composure.

Finally, a man escorted me out of the sanctuary. All of the women had been dressed in black of a style designating them as traditional, lower middle class and believe me they were religious. None of them, however, had their faces completely covered. All of them, when picking up their shoes while leaving, were reverent, deferential, and generous in their offerings. I definitely wished my Arabic was better. Old-Style Market: On the side of the mosque facing the square, vendors were selling Qur'ans and religious sundries. On the other side was a huge customary market. Spices were sold in one area, clothes in another, food in another, etc. What fun to wander through the narrow passages and see what was for sale and who was shopping. A few people seemed startled to see an outsider. Here, though, I was basically unnoticed and in general pictures weren't questioned.

Spice Market area.

Child on table in the midst of selling dinnerware.

Navigating the passageways.

Freshly baked bread.

Fruit stand.

Many butcher shops across the square from the mosque/shrine. Unassuming sheep about to meet their fates.

More meat for the butchers. Carcasses are hung on hooks in or in front of the shops.

I followed narrow streets of the Sayyida Zaynab neighborhood back to my own, Garden City. I remember the one of furniture makers. Bought some bread from a bakery.