call to prayer

Our new house is right next door to a mosque. It is a very Bosnian mosque, small, pretty and rather sweet. I like the feel of having a mosque next door. It allows us to watch the coming and going and the call to prayer provides a soundtrack to the rhythm of our lives in BiH. It certainly helps place us firmly in a different country. Bosnia is the most geographically western country which whilst you would never describe it as Muslim does have a significant proportion of Muslims in its population.

The only problem with the call to prayer is that it does start rather early. Today, being Friday it went off with a particular enthusiasm and length. Little L, affronted by the sound of a falling feather 3 blocks away whilst he is sleeping, was up instantly. Which is why I was trying to watch gymnastics at 5.30am this morning.