Practice of Fes Sufis
Sufism, or the mystical practice of Islam, has a vibrant place in the spiritual life of Morocco with Fes as the heart of this tradition. Sufism is an extra practice for a Muslim, above Faith and adherence to the Shar'ia. It is by choice that some people choose this greater spiritual path to achieve, ultimately, Sanctification or the admission into Paradise before the Sufi dies. Many Sufis do not attain such spiritual heights, but those devoted to the practices gain greater peace and closeness to the divine.
I was privileged enough to observe Sufi practice at a zawiya (a shrine to a Sufi saint or marabout. It has a blessing from the saint after death, called Baracka, which gives the invocation greater spiritual power) in Fes with Niaz; a Canadian Muslim who is teaching English at the American Centre. In Morocco, non Muslims are not allowed to enter Mosques or zawiyas because of Morocco's interpretation of Islamic Law. Niaz asked a local muezzin (prayer caller) who regularly attended this invocation, if it would be acceptable to make an exception for me. His first inclination was no, but he eventually agreed that it would be fine as long as I bathe before attending, where a djellaba (traditional Moroccan robe), and cover my head.
My night started with the difficulty of trying to find a Taxi at night in Fes. Luckily the kindness of Moroccans was with me. Two men flagged down a petit taxi with one passenger for me, and fortunately his destination was not out of my way. The petit left me off a little before 8:00 pm at Bab Guissa, my rendezvous point. I waited for a minute, then slipped into my new djellaba feeling a little self conscious about wearing the traditional Moroccan dress.
Niaz arrived shortly after I arrived, we went to his apartment to kill time until after evening prayer. We chatted about a book I was reading on Sufism, and the practice of Sufis in Fes. After prayer time we strolled through the medina to a small mosque that would be difficult to notice if it was not shown to me. The muezzin came to the door and greeted us, then gave a sermon on the impermanence and the meagerness of this world compared to the power of God. He asked that God help me on my spiritual path and that I he may bless me with good fortune.
We walked through the Medina for a few minutes, until we came upon an unassuming door leading below street level. As instructed I said B'smeallah as I crossed the threshold. A story below street level, presumably the basement of a large building, the stairway opened upon a large room with white washed walls and arches. Directly in front of me was an enclosure made of Moroccan cedar. It was the shrine of the dead Marabout, greeting those who had come to pray. The room was not elaborate, it was without the fancy plaster carving or zilij work of the madrases in Fes. Rugs were laid out on the floor and men sat against columns or walls. Some men near the mihrab (prayer niche denoting the direction of Mecca) were already singing.
Our muezzin guide introduced us to some of his friends; I was surprised that nobody questioned if I was Muslim. He ushered Niaz and I to a group of men sitting against a wall facing the chanting Sufis. We sat down with them, but unfortunately our muezzin's mother was sick, and needed to be attended to. We sat for a few minutes until one of the men gestured to Niaz to sit in the circle. I sat down behind him.
The music continued uninterrupted, except for some bread and tea. Abruptly a man began singing out of harmony behind me. I turned around. There was a man in a white djellaba strolling through the entrance of the Zawiya. He continued to sing very loudly, until an annoyed man stood up and gave him a stern "shoof." With the pressure of those around him he stopped singing and sat down a few feet from me. Then he began again with his loud singing in praise of the Prophet and God. The men around him tried to quiet him with stern words, but he continued to sing. He eventually was led out; the strange thing was that he didn't seem to mind.
Niaz told me after the night was finished that that man was a mujdid. Apparently he has done so many invocations and read too much Rumi that he is on a perpetual spiritual high, unable to control himself because of his immense love of the divine. This is not the state of oneness and knowledge of God that Sufi strive for, not a bad state of mind.
The poetry continued for the next two hours without interruption. Some men became increasingly emotional, singing with more force and swaying back and forth. Old men appeared to forget the aches and pains in their bodies, and the few you boys sat with an attentiveness that would be the dream of any school marm. Personally I felt a very calming affect on my thoughts and mind. I could easily clear my thoughts and remain present.
I am not sure how the invocation stopped, but those involved seemed to agree when it did. Everyone stood up and said peace to one another. All the participants, but especially the older men, where extremely joy full, as if some great gift had been bestowed upon them. They shook hands, kissed, and embraced with overwhelming happiness. Niaz and I said our goodbyes, and we left the Zawiya for the streets of the Medina.