I just got back from the Middle East, and boy do I falafel!

Seriously, though.

As I mentioned previously, I went to a Middle Eastern restaurant and a mosque as part of an assignment for class. It was a pretty interesting experience, so I'm posting the paper I wrote about it. It should be noted that we were told to include all our basic thoughts, feelings, and concerns, so if I come off as a nervous wreck, that's pretty much why. Enjoy.

When I signed up to take the Middle Eastern Geographic Perspectives course, I did so because of my interest in the economic opportunities in the area. I assumed that my basic familiarity of the United Arab Emirates would give me a leg up on the class and the rest would just be learning about various wars. However, the opportunity to look closely at a region whose culture is so misunderstood and distorted has been eye-opening to say the least, and the best illustrations of this have been experienced right here in Tampa.

Like many other students at USF, I was raised in a conservative Christian household. Because of this, I entered this class with a knowledge of Islam and Middle Eastern culture that had been filtered by those who possessed no personal experience of the culture. Therefore, when we were told that we had to go to a Middle Eastern restaurant and a mosque as part of the class, I was excited to learn about the culture but I was also somewhat anxious of experiencing some culture shock. After all, despite my economic knowledge of the area, I knew little to nothing about the culture itself – Middle Eastern culture is not widely celebrated in my Wisconsin hometown of 5,000 white Lutherans.

To accomplish the exciting yet worrying tasks at hand, I decided to team up with two of my roommates, James and Drew, to share the experience and for support (who knew what was ahead?). Because eating out seemed considerably less threatening than going to a mosque sight unseen, we chose to go to a Middle Eastern restaurant first. We set a date in advance and researched to find the best option for authentic Middle Eastern cuisine. After about a half-hour of googling our way through Tampa’s restaurant listings, we settled on Byblos Café, a Lebanese restaurant south of downtown Tampa. We were reassured by their inviting website (Bybloscafe.com) and their story of how the owners of the restaurant came to the US after graduating high school in Lebanon seemed like a guarantee of authentic Middle Eastern food. Enlisting the help (and car) of our friend Brittany, we headed south for an educational night on the town.

When we arrived and entered the restaurant, I was impressed by the lavish décor and impeccable cleanliness (it sounds silly to assume that a Middle Eastern restaurant would be dirty just for not being Western, but none of us had eaten at one before). We were promptly seated near some sort of corporate party and a “girl’s night out” and our waitress brought out our water and flatbread.

Immediately, the flatbread was a hit. It came with a dipping oil which we found out (after asking the waitress) contained sumac. Under normal circumstances, that would have been enough to scare us away (knowing of the plant called poison sumac), but we remembered sumac having been discussed earlier in class and continued to eat.

James, Drew and I wanted to make sure we ordered as authentically as possible, and also tried to vary our dishes from each other’s to broaden the experience. James ordered three types of kebab, Drew ordered the mysterious beef shawarma and I, hoping to get what would be a basic, standard Lebanese meal, opted for the decidedly vague “Chicken with Vegetables”. Our colorful, steaming plates arrived soon after, and it was time to take the plunge.

Arguably, I found my plate to be the most visually appealing of the whole table, so I had no reservations whatsoever to digging in. After all, chicken with vegetables seemed pretty straightforward, so all I had to do was hope that there wasn’t going to be some sort of repulsive Middle Eastern spice to ruin the deal.

Any fears I had were allayed with the first bite. The chicken was tender, moist, and not mysterious (always a plus with meat), and the huge vegetables and seasoning were not only unique, but far more intensely flavorful than any of the cafeteria food I’ve been solely subsisting on all school year. I have been known to be cautious about new foods, but I found myself truly enjoying the dish until I could eat no more of the more than hearty portion. I was pleasantly surprised to find that my assignment had turned into an enjoyable night out with a great meal to boot!

Reviews from the rest of the table were also generally favorable. Our experience at Byblos was comfortable and satisfying, and being forced to branch out and try something new gave me a new restaurant to list among my favorites in Tampa.

Our positive experience at Byblos gave us a little bit more confidence heading to the mosque, but it still struck us as a daunting task. I personally had a number of questions and fears leading up to the experience.

Ultimately, my greatest fear was that one of us would somehow offend whoever was at the mosque, whether it would be by dressing improperly or by being ignorant of some form of etiquette not practiced by Westerners. Additionally, I had no idea how receptive those at the mosque would be to the idea of three college kids walking around their complex looking for answers.

More internet research led us to the Islamic Society of Tampa Bay Area (ISTABA), located just south of campus. Once more, our friend Brittany supplied the car, but decided not to enter the mosque with us for fear of not being properly dressed (having seen many Muslim women wearing head coverings, we decided to play it safe and not risk offending anyone due to our lack of knowledge). The three of us weren’t sure how to dress, but I put on roughly what I would wear to my church – a collared shirt and khaki dress slacks – under the hopeful assumption that such wear would be acceptable in this place of worship.

When we arrived at the mosque, we were discouraged by the large fence surrounding the entire complex and the fact that there seemed to be nowhere to park (this may have been due to some nearby construction). We parked the car at a nearby gas station, and the three of us walked down to the mosque. When we arrived at what seemed to be the main gate, I was feeling more nervous than ever – a feeling that seemed to be shared by James and Drew.

Our collective anxiousness stemmed from a few things that seemed unwelcoming or intimidating to us. On top of the apparent lack of parking and the fence, there didn’t seem to be any obvious place for visitors to go, and what appeared to be some sort of main office was adorned with a sign that said “please remove your shoes before entering” – which was confusing to us, to say the least.

We stood outside the barely open gate and pondered what might become of us for a little while, until James and Drew volunteered me to enter first. Attempting to summon my bravery in a wholly disorienting and unchartered territory, I walked through the narrow opening, half expecting to set off some unseen alarm.

Once we were all inside the complex, we happened upon a reasonably friendly looking black man wearing a sweatshirt (as opposed to robes, which would have intimidated me more). I waved at him so as to prove that we weren’t just some punk kids exploring, and he came over to us and asked what we were doing there. I explained that we were students at USF taking a course on the Middle East and we came to the mosque to better understand the culture. The man turned from cautious to welcoming, and said with a smile “Well, then you came to the right place!” My instant relief was almost tangible, and suddenly the large, gated complex seemed more like a welcome center. I was certainly far more relaxed and ready for whatever came next.

The man told us he could take us to the Imam in the main office, and we all removed our shoes as we walked in. I didn’t know what an Imam was, but I felt it was a reasonable assumption that he was the Islamic equivalent to a Christian pastor.

We were ushered into the office of the Imam and I soon learned I was right. The Imam offered us a few chairs and we sat down to discuss Islam with him. The Imam fit the Islamic stereotype more than the black man did – he looked Middle Eastern, and was wearing some type of robe.
After we explained to him that we were USF students taking a class on the Middle East and just wanted to get a general idea of Islam, he gave us a detailed explanation in simple terms, asking us what we knew about it first, and building off of any ideas or (mis)conceptions we had about it.

His description was very straightforward and easy to understand, and eventually led me to conclude that Islam and Christianity are fundamentally quite similar, but are separated mainly by the Quran. After he told us the basis of Islam, I discussed with him a little bit of how my upbringing had led me to a number of incorrect preconceived notions, and how all it took to better understand Islam was simply to learn about it. Though we certainly had different ideas of faith, we seemed to share a mutual understanding that I never knew could exist between myself and a person of the Islam faith. It was astounding to see how much tension can be resolved by simply trying to understand another’s beliefs rather than condemning them and shutting them out.

I then asked how the outreach was going for ISTABA, and the Imam told us about all the services they offered to help the community while the black man went and got Qurans for us to take home. As we gratefully accepted them, the Imam joked that I could take it home as a reference and “hide it from my dad”. We laughed and thanked him and went on our way. As we walked back from the mosque to the gas station, we discussed how pleasant of an encounter it really was, despite our great fears entering.

I was so relieved to realize that our required Middle Eastern orientation went off without a hitch and actually ended up being enjoyable. My nervousness and misconceptions going into the experiences were thankfully unfounded, and I learned that the seemingly scary and intimidating culture of the Middle East may not be so scary and intimidating after all.