“Are You A Muslim?” by Mac Skelton

Posted on July 20th, 2009 | Filed under Best Practices/Non-Profit, Faith and Politics, InterViews, On Campus

A young American living in Yemen experiences friendships that transcend profound religious differences

After graduating college in May 2007, I packed my bags and moved to Sana'a, Yemen. I wanted to learn Arabic and a college professor had recommended Yemen as a good place to study the language. I took his advice, but given that Yemen is considered one of the most conservative Muslim nations - not to mention its sullied reputation after the bombing of the USS Cole in 2000 - I had some doubts as to how my new neighbors would receive a white, practicing Christian from Houston, Texas.

First indications were mostly very positive. I wandered through the winding streets of Sana'a hearing little kids shout the one English phrase they knew, "Welcome to Yemen!" Adults approached me to shake my hand and introduce themselves. One of my first taxi drivers knew a few words of English and managed to ask me which state I was from. "Texas," I replied. He chuckled while lightheartedly saying, "Ahhhh, George Bush!" Unable to communicate further, I left it to mystery whether his enthusiastic pronouncement was one of approval or dislike.

My street conversations became more detailed as I started to understand rudimentary Arabic. Time and again people would approach me and ask me the same four questions: "What is your name?" "Where are your from?" "Do you like Yemen?" And lastly, "Are you a Muslim?"

To this last question, I always responded, "No, I am a Christian." Most would say, "Ah, well, Islam and Christianity are very close!" Others would furrow their brows and casually say something like, "Really? Hmmm. Well hopefully you'll become a Muslim in the future." Then they'd give me a warm smile, shake my hand firmly and wish me well.

After four months I felt like a full-fledged member of my Yemeni neighborhood. Almost everyone within a half mile of my apartment knew who I was, at least in part because I stood out as the only American around. People hosted me in their homes for lunches, dinners, teas and khat chewing sessions (khat is a leafy green plant that many Yemenis chew during the afternoons for a mild stimulating effect). When I was ill, neighbors visited me and brought me meals. Finally, I received frequent invitations to take weekend excursions to rustic country villages outside the city.

On the flipside, I was expected to chip in when my neighbors needed assistance. On one occasion, a young man from the house next-door approached me and pronounced, "Mac, tomorrow is my wedding! Could we use your apartment for the food?" I quickly agreed, but I really had no clue as to what he meant by "the food." At noon the next day I returned to my apartment to find upwards of 100 people hurriedly filing into my apartment. The pre-wedding feast had begun. My apartment had been converted into a dining hall.

After eight months in Yemen, I could state with confidence that I had established two friendships that I will likely maintain for a lifetime, Mohammed and Azee. Mohammed is currently a university student. As the son of a muezzin (someone who performs the call to prayer), he has spent a lot of his life in the local mosque. Mohammed is extremely diligent about fulfilling his religious obligations and never skips one of the five daily prayers. If we're together, each call to prayer is my cue to go find something to do for twenty minutes while he heads over to the nearest mosque. His diligence with his prayers transfers to other areas of his life. I don't know how many times I heard this pep talk: "Mac, I want you to be the best student at your Arabic institute. You need to wake up early and study hard every day."

Azee is a warm and hilarious mechanic and taxi driver. We first met when my kitchen faucet broke and I needed someone to repair it. As in many future incidents, Azee - the neighborhood Mr. Fix-It - saved the day. He has three adorable young daughters, and some of my fondest memories are of him laughing and joking with them. He often teased his 3-year-old, saying, "What do you think about me sending you to America in Mac's large suitcase? America has the best toys in the world! You're going to love it!"  She always smiled, shook her head, and confidently asserted that she'd prefer to stay in Yemen.

As a Christian, I naturally did not always agree with Mohammad and Azee on matters of faith. They believe that Jesus was a prophet; I believe that he is the Son of God and God incarnate. They believe that the Qur'an is the final revelation of God; I believe that the person of Jesus is the final and fullest revelation of God. They believe that God spared Jesus from the cross and that a mere image of him was crucified; I believe that Jesus died on the cross and paid for our sins.

I could go on. The differences are numerous and should by no means be ignored. But, what continually amazed me was that these points of disagreement in no way hindered my friends' ability to welcome me into their lives. In one breath Azee would confidently state, "Mac, we just can't believe that Jesus is the Son of God," and in the next he would tenderly remind his daughters, nephews and nieces, "Go say goodbye to Uncle Mac before he leaves the house." Without hesitation they'd run over to me, grinning ear-to-ear. They'd warmly embrace me and ask, "Why are you leaving? Why don't you just sleep here so you can play with us?" So in the midst of my faith being challenged, I could not have felt more appreciated and loved.

After spending ten months in Yemen, I returned to the United States in May 2008. If I made any significant personal discovery in Yemen, it was that I could learn a great deal from the way my Yemeni friends treated me - a white, practicing Christian from Texas - with respect, dignity and genuine affection.

I recently returned to Yemen for a brief two-week visit. After a wonderful stay and many great memories, it was time to head back to the States. Azee and his family wished me goodbye, saying, "Brother, you have become one of us. When you return again, remember that our house is your house."

I hope and pray that I will learn to emulate his example.

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Mac Skelton is a 2007 Magna Cum Laude Davidson College religion major graduate. He is currently a program manager for the Buxton Initiative, a non-profit organization affiliated with the Case Foundation that seeks to improve relations between people of different faiths and worldviews, particularly Muslims and Christians. More on his Yemen experience is available at http://mylifeinyemen.wordpress.com/.