Travel as protest in the Trump era

Inside Istanbul’s Rüstem Pasha Mosque, Yasemin shows us how she prays. This 16th-century Ottoman mosque is carpeted with in- tricate patterns and its walls sparkle with 80 distinct decorations of turquoise- and emerald-colored Iznik tiles.

Out of respect, our shoes are off; my wife has covered her hair. It is my first time inside a mosque.

Shafts of refracted rainbow light fall upon us from narrow windows. To feel nothing within this peaceful setting would be to lack a soul.

Back home, Donald Trump continues his usual full-throated blather, tapping into the ugly vein of the worst of America’s nativist tendency: fear of The Other.

The old adage is, what you don’t understand you fear, and what you fear, you hate. I travel abroad to understand what I don’t understand, and, I admit what I don’t understand could fill a library. I flew to Turkey—a majorityMuslim nation—as a protest against the shameful anti-Muslim hate that has spread like a virus across the globe.

I continued my defiant journeys to India and Morocco, where, as in Turkey,

our guides were Muslim. Everywhere we went we were greeted with the kind of hospitality uncommon in America.

“If you think we are friendly,” Yasemin says, “go to Iran. They are 10 times more hospitable.”

The third-largest population of Muslims in the world resides in India. I traveled throughout that beautiful and vexing country two years ago and became friends with our tour guide Shagzil.

For most of December, he shepherded our small group from Delhi in the north to Cochin in the south. Many among us became ill, mostly from the infamous foul urban air. Shagzil patiently took people to various hospitals at all hours.

Perhaps that was to be expected from an experienced guide. What was not expected was a memorable afternoon at his Shagzil’s house. We were greeted with welcome drinks of fresh lime juice served by his young daughters, his wife, sisters-in-law and many other relatives in his extended-family household. arm, then the left. “We believe in the

After a lunch of dal, fresh fruit and two angels — one bad, one good.” lime juice, we gathered around the couple’s Yasemin washes her mouth three wedding book, filled with photos times. “Make me only say good things.” of an elaborate Muslim wedding. Smiles Next come the nose and face. “God, give and laughter were the order of the day. me beauty; do not make me shy.” When

I thought of that afternoon a year she washes her ears, she says, “God, do later when a horrible 100year not make me hear bad flood recently hit that things.” area. I frantically texted As we file out the sanctity Shagzil to see if there was of the mosque quickly any assistance I could offer. evaporates with the noisy

Days later, he wrote back clamor of Istanbul. Still, I to say their house, that carry something of that beautiful extended family morning with me to this day. home, was completely What I brought back from underwater. The family that sacred moment was a was living with relatives in step away from the fear of another part of India. And, not knowing and a step no, no need to send anything. closer to understanding the rich universality

Back in Istanbul, Yasemin demon- of the human experience. strates the steps of Wud u , the act of I am not religious in any sense but ablution all Muslims perform before now when I wash my mouth I try to they pray. We would witness what a remember to say only good things. I do quarter of the world’s population does wonder what our president thinks every day in mosques just like this one. when he washes his face?

Because Islam began in a waterless Lyons is the author of four books of desert, Yasemin says, there is an extra essays and journalism. His most recent obligation to be clean. She washes her book is “Going Driftless: Life Lessons hands three times, cleansing between from the Heartland for Unraveling her fingers. Next, she cleans her right Times.”