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We parked near the Great Mosque. We performed our ablutions and entered. Pilgrims seemed to beon top of each other, there were so many, lying, sitting, sleeping, praying, walking.My vocabulary cannot describe the new mosque that was being built around the Ka'ba. I was thrilledto realize that it was only one of the tremendous rebuilding tasks under the direction of young Dr.Azzam, who had just been my host. The Great Mosque of Mecca, when it is finished, will surpass thearchitectural beauty of India's Taj Mahal.Carrying my sandals, I followed the _Mutawaf_. Then I saw the Ka'ba, a huge black stone house in themiddle of the Great Mosque. It was being circumambulated by thousands upon thousands of prayingpilgrims, both sexes, and every size, shape, color, and race in the world. I knew the prayer to beuttered when the pilgrim's eyes first perceive the Ka'ba. Translated, it is "O God, You are peace, andpeace derives from You. So greet us, O Lord, with peace." Upon entering the Mosque, the pilgrimshould try to kiss the Ka'ba if possible, but if the crowds prevent him getting that close, he touches it,and if the crowds prevent that, he raises his hand and cries out "Takbir!" ("God is great!") I could notget within yards. "Takbir!"My feeling there in the House of God was a numbness. My _Mutawaf_ led me in the crowd ofpraying, chanting pilgrims, moving seven times around the Ka'ba. Some were bent and wizened withage; it was a sight that stamped itself on the brain. I saw incapacitated pilgrims being carried byothers. Faces were enraptured in their faith. The seventh time around, I prayed two _Rak'a_,prostrating myself, my head on the floor. The first prostration, I prayed the Quran verse "Say He isGod, the one and only"; the second prostration: "Say O you who are unbelievers, I worship not thatwhich you worship. . . ."As I prostrated, the _Mutawaf_ fended pilgrims off to keep me from being trampled.The _Mutawaf_ and I next drank water from the well of Zem Zem. Then we ran between the two hills,Safa and Marwa, where Hajar wandered over the same earth searching for water for her child Ishmael.Three separate times, after that, I visited the Great Mosque and circumambulated the Ka'ba. The nextday we set out after sunrise toward Mount Arafat, thousands of us, crying in unison: "Labbayka!Labbayka!" and "Allah Akbar!" Mecca is surrounded by the crudest-looking mountains I have everseen; they seem to be made of the slag from a blast furnace. No vegetation is on them at all. Arrivingabout noon, we prayed and chanted from noon until sunset, and the _asr_ (afternoon) and _Maghrib_(sunset) special prayers were performed.

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I will never forget the dinner at the Azzam home. I quote my notebook again: "I couldn't say in mymind that these were 'white' men. Why, the men acted as if they were brothers of mine, the elder DrAzzam as if he were my father. His fatherly, scholarly speech. I _felt_ like he was my father. He was,you could tell, a highly skilled diplomat, with a broad range of mind. His knowledge was so worldly.He was as current on world affairs as some people are to what's going on in their living room."The more we talked, the more his vast reservoir of knowledge and its variety seemed unlimited. Hespoke of the racial lineage of the descendants of Muhammad the Prophet, and he showed how theywere both black and white. He also pointed out how color, the complexities of color, and the problemsof color which exist in the Muslim world, exist only where, and to the extent that, that area of theMuslim world has been influenced by the West. He said that if one encountered any differences basedon attitude toward color, this directly reflected the degree of Western influence." I learned during dinner that while I was at the hotel, the Hajj Committee Court had been notifiedabout my case, and that in the morning I should be there. And I was.The judge was Sheikh Muhammad Harkon. The Court was empty except for me and a sister fromIndia, formerly a Protestant, who had converted to Islam, and was, like me, trying to make the Hajj.She was brown-skinned, with a small face that was mostly covered. Judge Harkon was a kind,impressive man. We talked. He asked me some questions, having to do with my sincerity. I answeredhim as truly as I could. He not only recognized me as a true Muslim, but he gave me two books, one inEnglish, the other in Arabic. He recorded my name in the Holy Register of true Muslims, and we wereready to part. He told me, "I hope you will become a great preacher of Islam in America." I said that Ishared that hope, and I would try to fulfill it.The Azzam family were very elated that I was qualified and accepted to go to Mecca. I had lunch atthe Jedda Palace. Then I slept again for several hours, until the telephone awakened meIt was Muhammad Abdul Azziz Maged, the Deputy Chief of Protocol for Prince Faisal. "A special carwill be waiting to take you to Mecca, right after your dinner," he told me. He advised me to eatheartily, as the Hajj rituals require plenty of strength.I was beyond astonishment by then.Two young Arabs accompanied me to Mecca. A well-lighted, modem turnpike highway made the tripeasy. Guards at intervals along the way took one look at the car, and the driver made a sign, and wewere passed through, never even having to slow down. I was, all at once, thrilled, important, humble,and thankful.Mecca, when we entered, seemed as ancient as time itself. Our car slowed through the winding streets,lined by shops on both sides and with buses, cars, and trucks, and tens of thousands of pilgrims fromall over the earth were everywhere.The car halted briefly at a place where a _Mutawaf_ was waiting for me. He wore the white skullcapand long nightshirt garb that I had seen at the airport. He was a short, dark-skinned Arab, namedMuhammad. He spoke no English whatever.