II I only hear the call to prayer at my relatives’ homes now. This is because some of my aunts and uncles have apps on their phones that sound off when it’s time for worship. The call is hard to notice over small talk. I must have been 11 or 12 years old the last time I visited Syria.
III I remember the jealousy I felt of my brother, who was able to stay with my dad while I had to branch off to the women’s section of the mosque by myself. My only memories of going into the local mosque with my mother are related to funerals. I struggled adjusting the pale headscarf brought from home as the service started and darted out of the washroom to find any open space. I’d kneel, anchoring myself, to repeat the only prayers 175