Well, then again, there are some gendered ascriptions:
Lines are ad hoc gendered, plus or minus. Priority seating on the first floor of the Haram is given to the men, with male and female security guards shuffling women out of their spots to give way to men, creating men's sections in a way that is more intrusive or abrasive than what I've observed and practiced everywhere else here; including in the Haram on the second and third floors, or even on the streets.
Women—in pairs, small groups, or alone—will put their prayer rugs beside other women, anywhere. This will lead to other women joining until there are various-size jama'ats. To observe this same practice on the first floor of the Haram, however, is futile. Even when a cluster begins to develop, the gender police will come and force women to move.
Our first morning, we rose at 3 a.m. to pray tahujjud in the mosque. Great idea, right? When we arrived there was still space on the first floor, so we put our rugs down next to a few women and were joined by other women, forming our cluster.
Now, for the romantic: if a man will not part from his wife, then he too will find that spot for her, within a small cluster of women. He will then he set his prayer rug down beside hers. As the lines fill up quickly, one of two things will happen. Other women will continue to fill in that cluster, his presence notwithstanding, and that will be that. Otherwise, he gives permission for the other men to begin a cluster of men, starting from the side that is not adjacent to his wife.
This is so sweet to watch.
As for the not-so-good part: there are restrictions on the first floor of the mosque not repeated anywhere else. Not on the other floors: second, third, and a kind of balcony fourth floor. Not outside—as I said, people pray everywhere as the prayer time approaches; people get ready to pray everywhere. But as the call for prayer is made, certain preferences or priorities will disappear. Just put down your rug and join a line. There's still some looking to make or join a cluster, but a tiny space of decorum is all that's needed when the call for standing to that prayer has been mass, the iqama.
This was just the best thing since the demise of sliced bread. People praying everywhere: men, women, and very few children falling into position oriented only by the Ka'abah. That means a male cluster might be formed right behind a female cluster. People are really focused there, and that goal, the Oneness of God, removes some of the stuffiness and pretentiousness of some Muslim cultures, and instead the mandate to pray on time takes over.
This even spills over into the after-salat rush. Women and men sit down to eat everywhere: on the curbside, sidewalk, or streets emptied of the normal traffic flow; or jostling in the shops, or jammed in the tight lines to get food at the local restaurants. Nobody says to women to stay behind, keep out, or keep away. There is so much bodily contact a person could be mistaken for being at one with all humankind, and not a measurement of one's gender.
December 6, 2010—Friday Salat al-Jumu'ah in Haram al-Sharif
There is a reference in the Quran about the two qiblahs. The gist of the story was the historical move of the qiblah, direction of prayer, from al-Quds, Jerusalem, to the Kaabah in Makkah. They even built a mosque that has the name Dhul-qiblatayn, the "two directions of prayer" mosque. Anyway, this comes to mind as I sit between two Iranian women on my right (who talk a lot to complain about some of the shenanigans I will describe below), and an Arab woman on my left. When things get tough, I just go to English. Like these women who talk to all and sundry in Farsi, chances are just as good for any one language as for any other in this context.
Most mornings until now, my roommate and I would awaken at 3:00 a.m. to get to the mosque for the prayer before the morning prayer tahajuud. Our first morning we had our encounter with the guardians of the "this sacred space is too sacred for you women, so give it up to the men." We ended in the basement, because my roommate doesn't like conflict, even with a good cause. We had a nice groove going there, but she made a rift in our united efforts. What I mean is, the other women by sign language agreed with me to keep our space. At first they were going to lift up their prayer rugs when shifted by the security guards, but then I gave them the eye and also told the guard in Arabic, "We're a group (of ladies) here."
Why should we move?
To understand how this works, try to remember we are dealing in numbers of devotees so far from manageable that it almost takes an act of violence to keep a modicum of safety, let alone decorum, or arbitrary gender rules. The best description perhaps would be the necessary attempts to keep at least a certain amount of space for the pathways. These have long green mats to indicate where they are.
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