My last stop in Turkey, Şanlıurfa.
I think the pictures I took of Şanlıurfa (or Urfa for short) will do my visitation more justice than my words. Other than the all too common awkward glances from the locals and the occasional insinuation of me being an (Afro) Arab, I did not have any interesting encounters or stories while there, only that I chanced upon some nice, young teenagers who were willing to escort me from Urfa proper to the Yeni Mevlid-I Halil Masjid, which is adjacent to where Prophet Ibrahim is alleged to have been born.
Inside the cave, there is a faucet which effuses water, holy water I would imagine, from the well-springs of Ibrahim’s birthplace. Pilgrims come from all over to gather this water into jugs, bottles, whatever they can find. I so happened to have two empty water bottles on me at the time, so I filled them to the brim, as gifts for some special friends back in America. I made sure to offer two rakaʿah (one unit of prayer) in the masjid juxtaposed to the cave. 😀
I also made sure to offer two rakaʿah in the masjid where Ibrahim is alleged to have fallen into the fires of Nimrod.
In all honesty, I’m exhausted of traveling, and I feel the inkwell of my inner mind is drying. I’ve learned much during my trek, and I’ve burgeoned as both as a global citizen and as a Muslim.