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My
conversion to Islam has alarmed many friends and family
members. It seems to them strange and odd for a Latino like me
to become a Muslim. Catholic and Protestantism are the leading
religions in Latin America so these are reasonable religions
for any Latin American to convert to, but when my family
follows either Catholic or Protestant domination's, why Islam?
Well my conversion to Islam was not introduced to me by any
family member, like most of my family members, whose parent's
ideas of life were given to them and they adhere to that as
truth, without searching. The journey to God is a beautiful
road that was given to the Prophets from God, to us humans.
The Prophets are our ways, and that's the way I follow.
My
story begins at my birthplace, El Salvador, a beautiful
tropical country located in Central America, filled with
exotic, delicious, and tasty fruits. The people are warm
welcoming to others, and possessed a very intimate culture.
Our culture is a crossroads of the mingling of many rich
cultures. If you mingle Spanish Arab intellect with the
African tangy taste of rhymes, and the Native Indians love of
the earth, you get the beautiful people of El Salvador.
I was born in 1975, from middle class of the poor, yes we were
poor but we had the blessing of food. My father was a farmer,
whose family who bought a lot of cheap land, so they were well
off and my mother was from a very humble, poor family who
lived by fishing and working for others to get by. Their
families opposed of their marriage because one was poor and
the other very poor. So my father did what most do, elope with
my mother to my grandfather's house, even if my grandfather
didn't like it. Later, both families became fine with it and a
house was given to my father by grandpa, were I was born. The
house was an old adobe house.
My
father came to America in 1978, to make some quick money and
he kept coming and going back for a period of 4 years until he
bought a cargo truck with his brother and worked for a while.
Then he felt the urge again to come back and since the war
began, he felt scared for himself and me. In 1983, he left El
Salvador again but with intentions to bring the family and
stay for good. So after my father left, I spent a lot of time
with my grandfather who was a Protestant, and I used to listen
to the Biblical readings and I used to love looking at the
pictures in the Bible. I used to ask, "does anyone still
dress like the people drawn in the bible, with long robes,
turban and beards" and they replied "No" it was
long-time ago. I was fascinated with Noah, Moses, Abraham, and
particular with Jesus. I had this immense hunger to find
people like Jesus, the way he spoke in the bible and the way
he dressed, his beautiful beard brought mystery and he looked
very wise. I never saw this in my family who were very
religious or anybody in the two Christian branches.
In
1984 my fathers sent a letter to my mother telling her come to
America, and to bring me too. When my mother told me about it,
I felt sick and destroyed. Because I felt that I was in
paradise and I didn't want leave. I cry almost everyday
pleading with my mother to leave me with grandpa, but my words
were not heard.
We
left El Salvador in August, and I did enjoy the trip to
America but it was very hard for my mom. My two sisters stayed
with my aunt in San Salvador the capital of El Salvador. We
arrive in National Airport of Washington D.C. three weeks
after we left El Salvador.
After
spending time here in America I found out that religions are
thrown away by society and are considered private, and not a
way of life to many. I didn't feel the love of God as I did in
El Salvador, but still tried to keep Him in my heart. Most of
my desires of God in my life were gone in America. I went to
regular schools from second grade to High school, but my
thirst for religion began at High school.
In 1990, my first year in High School, what a joy!!! I was so
happy the first day, and my cousin Ana warned me to be careful
because seniors threw freshmen in lockers, but I didn't care I
was happy. Surely, soon I found out that seniors weren't the
ones who beat and threw freshmen in lockers but it was the
footfall team. The football team was not interested in
freshmen only but in Latinos in general. We were terrorized so
bad that we used to hide in bathrooms when we saw one of them
coming, these guys were 6'5" tall when most of Latinos
are 5'6" so of course we were terrified. In the middle of
the year we formed a Gang to protect ourselves from the
football team, and we were becoming really crazy, at a point
that the football team try to offer an apology to us but we
were having fun, and we didn't accept to stop.
We
started going to clubs, drinking, using drugs, and of course
women were not excluded. This period of time was the most
dangerous of my life. We used to fight for stupid things. I
almost got shot on the metro (train) in Washington D.C. for a
stupid argument between my friend and some young kids. The
kids started shooting at me like I was the one arguing with
them, and a bullet went by my head barely touching my hair.
This was crazy and we went after the guys who shot at us, and
they got beat up really bad. Twenty minutes later, I felt a
drawling rush in my whole body, felt like I was superman.
I just went through a dream and I felt that I was going to be
known, recognized and respect from my homies/friends. Next
day, we told our friends and none of them believed our
incident, but still I felt strong.
In
another incident at a nightclub, we had the biggest fight
ever. The fight was so serious that many of my friends left
the gang that we belonged to. Three of my friends got stabbed
badly inside the club, so a group of us went outside looking
for them, and the cops separated us into subgroups. I was in a
group of six guys and we were just walking around the club
when a pick-up truck came near us and they asked us if we
needed help, we said "yes". All of them got off the
pick-up truck. They looked fishy to me, but my friends were
happy to see them. One of them said "What mara (Gang) do
you click (hang around) with," and we responded with our
gang’s name, and they said their gang’s name too. The bad
thing was that these were the guys who stabbed our buddies and
we were looking for them too. We started to get ready and I
said to my buddies to run, because several of them pointed
guns at us, so we ran and I was too drunk to run so I got
caught by six of them. They beat me severely, kicked me with
their boots and hit me with their fists all over my face and
body. The cops showed up right in time, because I felt death
on my throat. They could easily have stabbed me or killed me,
and I looked up in the sky and said; " My Lord save me,
and I will serve you." One of my friends got thrown from
a bridge and broke his hand while others got away.
That
same friend who was with me at the train shooting and the
nightclub started to become more aware of life. After this
incident, he started learning about different doctrines. His
philosopher was Carl Marx, his sociology was communism, and
his theology was Islam. To me, he was becoming unaware of
life, and I myself started to search but in the Protestant
church. I found myself becoming religious again, once again
praying to God for guidance. However, I didn't want to become
too religious of a person because I knew my family would
ridicule me. I had always been a person that looked
uninterested in life. My friend started preaching about his
thoughts and beliefs and I told him that my love for
Protestant church was growing more so he could leave me alone.
I told him Jesus is my teacher; not a black man named Elijah
Muhammad or Farrakhan.
My friend at that time was confused what the true Islam was,
his Islam looked weird to me. He believed that Nation of Islam
was the true Islam; he did not know the differences, that the
real Islam was not racist like Nation of Islam was.
I did accept his socialist belief in Communism and
"Che" Guevara, and Fidel Castro became our Leaders
for world modernization. At the same time, I was not too
happy, for Communism denounced God's existence. He pushed on
about Islam, telling me to read his Koran, so I did. I was
amazed to see Jesus, Moses, Abraham, and many more Prophets of
the Bible in this Koran. He told me "We believe Jesus is
a Prophet of God, not the son of God nor God himself" and
immediately responded that I believe in the same. He said,
"Your church believes that Jesus is God and the Son of
God and they make up the Trinity," I said to him that is
not my belief in Jesus and God. That made me think a lot more
about Christianity and the Protestant church of their Triune
god, because I never knew that Jesus was considered this even
though I did go to church. I felt confused but happy that
there was a religion that had what I believe in, but still I
wasn't too acceptable to it.
In
1995, I went to work at a cafeteria at a University a year
after I graduated from High school. At work, I saw so many
cultures and different religious people. I still had hate
towards non-Latinos, yet my first week at work a group of
students came to buy some stuff at the store I worked, and
they were fighting amongst each other, that everyone wanted to
pay. This incident was very touching to me because I was a
very giving person yet my friends took advantage of that
quality. All the people in that group who came into the store
wanted to pay for the others. I asked one of them later that
week, why Middle Eastern people were so generous amongst each
other? He replied, "See, we owe it to Islam because
Islam teaches us to be generous, some of us don't practice
that much but Islamic manners are imbedded in our
hearts." This statement moved me. I replied to him that I
used to study Islam for political reasons. He asked, "
Why did you stop?" I told him that I didn't know where to
get more information about Islam. He looks at me with joy and
he said I have an American Muslim friend that converted six
month ago.
The
next day they came to visit me, and I saw this white male
dressed like the people in the Bible and looked like Jesus. My
heart felt this peaceful calm feeling that I still feel. He
started asking me about my health, my family and my work. He
didn't mention anything about religion. I was so happy that I
told him to come every time he could to teach me. For two
months, Muslims were coming to me with books, pamphlets, and
just to talk. It went on for two and half months and the place
got closed during the summer. So for two months I just relaxed
and partied all summer. However, I started to feel guilty
while drinking. When I felt that way, I used to prostrate in
forgiveness. In September, I went to a party with my friend
and I really got drunk that night and almost got into a fight,
but my friend reminded me that I was studying Islam, so I
stopped and asked him if we can go home.
The
next day, at 9:00 in the morning I woke up with this
disgusting feeling and the phone rang. It was my friend from
the University. I told him to please pick me up and take
me to the Mosque. He came like a lighting flash to my house. I
was nervous and happy at same time. We arrived at this
beautiful Mosque Darul-Al-Hijra in northern Virginia ten
minutes away from my house. At 10:00 a.m. the teacher came,
very calm, and not pushing and asked me if I believed that God
is One, I said, "Yes." He asked if I believed that
Jesus is a Prophet and the son Mary? I said, "Yes."
Do you believe that Muhammad is the Last Prophet of God, in
doubts, I replied "Yes." At that moment in doubts of
Muhammad, I said to myself, “If I believe in the teachings
of Islam, I must be a fool not to accept in the one who
brought it, I told the teacher that I was ready to became a
Muslim (in submission to God); He told me to repeat:
"Ashadu anla ilaha ilallah Wa ashadu ana Muhammadan
Rasululah"
"I testify that there is nothing worthy of worship than
Allah and I testify that Muhammad is the Prophet of
Allah"
"
Yo atestiguo que no hay nada digno de adoraci que Alah y
Atestiguo que Mujammad es el Profeta de Allah"
At
this point, I could smell the mercy and the sweetness of
heaven, felt the presence of God in my torn, sick heart. I
felt clean brightness in my new way of life. My life was ready
for the next journey on earth, the journey to Paradise.
All Praises are due to Allah, Lord of the Worlds that He has
invited me to Islam, from among billions of people in the
earth to be a Muslim. My thanks are due to Allah the Almighty,
for inviting me to His House Makkah (Baytu-lah) in 1997 for
`Umrah.
Assalamu
Alaikum Warathmatullahi Warabakatu
Walter
'Abdul-Walee' Gomez |
