Four Long Islanders recall the spiritual ecstasy, and physical toll of their Hajj pilgrimage

After spending years raising his kids and saving money, Nauman Khan, 58, of Mount Sinai, decided this year was finally the right time for he and his wife to go on Hajj, a sacred pilgrimage to Saudi Arabia.

In East Meadow, newlyweds Sundus Imam and Hamdan Sakrani could wait no longer for the event Imam, 28, called more important than even getting married. Sakrani, 32, had spent four years saving more than $14,000 for the pilgrimage.

In Port Jefferson, Shahid Nawaz, 60, who had made the journey 20 years ago, registered his family on the website that awards visas on a first come, first served basis for Hajj because he wanted to bring his wife and oldest daughter along this time.

These Muslim Long Islanders got the chance to participate in what is considered a deeply significant journey central to their religion. As one of the five pillars of Islam, Hajj draws close to 2 million Muslims annually to the Prophet Muhammad’s birthplace in present-day Mecca, for a moving six-day pilgrimage that is intense both spiritually and physically.

For those whose journey starts in the United States, a Hajj package from a licensed travel agency usually costs more than $10,000 per person — a price tag all seven of these Long Islanders were capable of covering.

Still, their spots were not guaranteed until visas were released a few weeks before the start of Hajj. Saudi Arabia grants countries only one Hajj visa for every 1,000 Muslims, meaning over 3 million Americans Muslims can count on no more than 4,000 visas annually. 

Some who don't get visas that entitle them to comfortable lodging and supportive care along the way go anyway. And this year, they suffered more than ever in the high heat. Of the 1,300 pilgrims who died during this year’s Hajj, more than 80% did not have the necessary permits, according to media reports.

Khan knew he was very lucky. Of the approximately 100 Americans whom Khan said he knew wanted to go on Hajj, he was the only person to receive a visa. 

"It was like if you had won a $1 billion dollar lottery — that’s how I was jumping and crying," Khan said of being granted the visa.

An emotional journey

Such high emotion, Long Islanders said, continued throughout the trip.

On the first day of Hajj, pilgrims perform tawaf, by circling the Kaaba — a cube-shaped marble shrine at the center of the Great Mosque in Mecca. Muslims face in the direction of the Kaaba during their five daily prayers. Seeing it in person is a Hajj highlight for many.

For Nawaz, performing tawaf marked the official start of a family trip over two decades in the making. "It was a pretty emotional thing to do together," he said.

"Seeing the Kaaba and seeing all the people, it’s overwhelming," Imam said. "As soon as I saw it, I was just grateful to be there."

This sense of profundity for pilgrims is immediately rivaled the next day by the Day of Arafat, which commemorates the Prophet Muhammad’s final sermon. While the holiday is celebrated throughout the world, hajj pilgrims have what they consider to be a distinct privilege of marking it at the Mountain of Mercy, where Muhammad is believed to have delivered his last sermon.

"It was cathartic, in a way," Imam said of the Day of Arafat. "Everyone is praying, everybody’s crying, and kind of getting everything out. You feel a lot lighter once it’s all over, and there’s kind of like a sense of peace that you have once you finish the day."

As the journey progresses, the physical toll of navigating extreme heat and massive crowds builds, even with some pilgrims saying the spiritual intensity of the Hajj helps them get through the challenge. This year, temperatures were as high as 120 degrees Fahrenheit. Inside, hot mosque tiles made the buildings feel like an oven, Nawaz said.

"As soon as you step outside, you want to go back inside," Imam said. "It’s like you’re baking."

Khan had at one point declined to use an umbrella to protect himself from the sun, but he later fainted while at Mina, where pilgrims camp while performing the Stoning of the Devil ritual during the third day of Hajj. Khan also recalled falling over at least twice while walking.

"Because of the heat, I believe, I couldn’t remember what happened to me," Khan said. "I felt like I died or something. In my dreams I was going up, but people around me threw cold water on me, and there were two doctors that came right away running toward me."

Nawaz, who was thrilled to be accompanied by his family on his second Hajj, said he had to perform the ritual for his daughter and wife because they needed to rest after so much walking.

Sakrani said this ritual was the most challenging part of the pilgrimage, and his wife, Imam, said she saw people struggle with what was at least a two-hour walk for many.

Grim toll of a dangerous trek

There is also a grim side to the Hajj that the four Long Islanders witnessed.

For many Muslims who are not awarded a visa or cannot afford to travel with a visa, not being able to go on Hajj can be devastating.

Sometimes, that devastation turns into desperation. Some Muslims fear they will never be able to afford the expensive journey, while others fear their health will not hold up, prompting some to attempt the pilgrimage with other types of tourist visas. These allow them to access Hajj sites, but not the lodging and transportation licensed pilgrims use to recover from long days in the high heat.

Other pilgrims are sold fraudulent packages that reveal a lack of access only once they arrive in Saudi Arabia.

Imam, who works as a registered nurse on Long Island, recalled stopping on walks at least five times to attempt to help people suffering from heat stroke, or possibly worse.

"You would see people who kind of look like they were just taking a rest, but really they could have been on their way to dying in the heat," Imam said.

Without access to a hospital, however, Imam said it was difficult to do more than splash cold water or elevate the legs of the struggling pilgrims. A language barrier also typically presented a challenge, she said.

Sakrani, who was with his wife while she tried to help people, said there were plenty of police officers on hand, but a clear lack of medical professionals. Since the extreme heat was expected, Sakrani said he was surprised not to see ambulances ready to help people.

"We were begging the police officers to call medical professionals, and they just kept saying they would, but no one showed up," Sakrani said.

In one instance, Sakrani said, this lack of immediate medical response resulted in a pilgrim being pushed for more than 20 minutes in a wheelchair to a hospital.

While walking to a ritual, Nawaz said he saw what he believes was a dead body, and also saw many people sleeping on the roadside and under bridges.

Nawaz lamented the difficulties of finding the balance between saving enough money for Hajj and going while still in good physical health. He saw pilgrims who looked frail, were in wheelchairs, or were clearly struggling.

For those who were able to complete the Hajj in good health, the spiritual ecstasy remains with them even after they return home. 

"When it ends, you feel so light and internally and emotionally cleansed," Nawaz said. "You feel close to God. It is bittersweet. You are glad to be going home but you also wish you could stay forever."

"Even though my body was here, I was still feeling that I am still there for at least 10 days after," Khan said.