A young boy learns to pray, how to hold his hands, how to hold his head, from looking down the rows of men in worship. The mullah continues to preach in the background. The mullah praises the Caliphates of Rashidin and Caliphs like Abubakir, Omar ibn Khatab, Osman ibn Affan, and Ali ibn Talib. He praises other followers of Islam that can serve as heroes or examples to his congregation.
A small boy brings a daff into the room for worship. The daff, essentially a hand-drum lined with chain links, is a Kurdish instrument that acts as an integral part of Qadiri Sufi worship. While it may look like a musical instrument to a western audience, it is not considered such by worshippers. It is a spiritual sound and a spiritual instrument.
A leader of worship calls out prayers and the congregation calls back in a ritual exchange. The leader calls on Sheikh Said Ahmad al-Badawi, on the Prophet Mohammad.
A little boy sits on his mother’s lap, playing with her phone as she prays. In past visits to the tekiye, this same boy crept onto his mother’s lap, between her and the daff as she continued to play.
While jumping is more rare in this tekiye than swaying, bowing, head-banging or whirling, it occurs. Mostly as the worship reaches its spiritual peaks, men begin to throw themselves into the motions, letting their heads loll side-to-side, letting their bodies leave the ground.
Over the course of the worship, each individual moves through whichever physical form of worship calls to him. Some keep their hair covered, some unleash it. Some begin by swaying and move into bowing or whirling. Some begin in whirling and move to bowing. It is a fluid and individuated practice.
Two men, who moved away from the wall just moments ago, hand in hand, unfurl their hair from their caps and begin to bow and head-bang to a chorus of “Allah! Allah!” or “God! God!” One of the men has a telltale mark on his forehead, what is known as a “zabib,” or “raisin,” in Arabic: a raised bruise on his forehead from praying and prostrating vigorously.
The last, most physically intensive phase of the worship includes a press toward the daff and tapl players as well as more physically emotive movement: running, jumping, and more head-banging.
Two men, who moved away from the wall just moments ago, hand in hand, unfurl their hair from their caps and begin to bow and head-bang to a chorus of “Allah! Allah!” or “God! God!” One of the men has a telltale mark on his forehead, what is known as a “zabib,” or “raisin,” in Arabic: a raised bruise on his forehead from praying and prostrating vigorously.
As the women worship, some sing, some have instruments in their hands, others sway gently, some clap as a form of movement and participation. Throughout the worship, the Sheikha sits at the center, listening, greeting everyone, and occasionally adding her voice.
Three men stand in the alcove of the room for worship. They introduce the sound and rhythm of both the daff and the tapl to the devotion. To the side, stands the Sheikh, a son of Sheikh Yusuf, who normally offers spiritual leadership and direction to the tekiye. He is absent on this day to seek treatment in Germany for a threatening condition.
From this angle, both forms of percussion are obvious: the tapl and daff. Three men play the daff while one stands at the tapl. The daff makes sound as the fingers hit the taut skin, but also as it is dropped. The chain links that line the inside of the frame brush against the frame and skin creating their own sound.
From this angle, it’s very easy to see the chain links inside the daff and how the rising and falling motion of the drum activates that part of its sound.
As the men continue to play the daff, a worshipper begins the ecstatic practice of bending all the way forward and backward, swinging his long white hair with him. He supports himself with a cane. This practice will look familiar to any heavy metal fan; it is essentially spiritual head-banging.
A close look at the daff reveals the many chain links inside the frame or rim of the instrument that give it a brushing or swishing sound as well as the quick, struck sound of fingers on taut skin.
The tapl, braced only against some cushions, not secured in the wooden frame the men have, needs periodic readjustment by the player. She braces it, at times, with one stick, while striking it with the other.
A woman, seen over her shoulder, keeps the pace intensifying with the daff. Traditionally, the daff is made with a wooden frame and animal skin stretched across it. This daff has a plastic “skin” that has become translucent in places over the years it has served worshippers, both men and women.
At this distance, it’s easy to see the repair work that has been done on the daff with tape, the turquoise prayer beads strung around one woman’s wrist, the clear rhythm the tapl player provides as she sings and how she balances the tapl against cushions. The woman sings, “The children of the Prophet, my life, and my religion.”
Inside the arrangement of seated women, the woman draped in green claps along with the tapl and daff. It is unusual to see a religious woman in a religious setting have painted nails. The paint cannot be considered clean even after an ablution, so it is general forgone. Not only is she wearing nail polish, but it is pink.
Clapping can be energetic, but also a simple motion of time keeping, as seen here. The clap this woman makes is not so much a noise as a movement to stay in time with the daff and tapl. The prayer repeats, “Oh, my beautiful sheikh, it is not in my hands. I miss you greatly.”
Cushions and fabric balance the tapl. The skin of the tapl is actually a little punctured, but still it booms with each tap of the sticks. This prayer describes a beauty dressed in various types of Kurdish clothes.
One daff, with transparent plastic where traditionally a stretched animal skin would be, allows the viewer to see the singers and other prayer-leaders through the instrument itself. Below the daff is the prayer notebook, open.
The daffs change hands frequently in the women’s worship. The woman who just moments before was playing the transparent daff is now playing a worn, patched, animal-skin daff. It is remarkable how much use these instruments see and how, no matter their state of use, they contribute to the sound of prayer.
The daff one woman holds here has been patched with duct tape and shows that each player has held the instrument in the same place, wearing a clear patch the size of approximately four fingers in the opaque plastic covering.
At the center of the seated worshippers, the daffs are handed around, the Sheikha listens, the women trade roles as lead singer and chorus. Out the window, the viewer can vaguely see the detritus of the tekiye, a working hostel and refuge for those who need food or a place to stay in the city.
Today’s filming coincided with a mawlood, a celebration in honor of the Prophet. Someone in the congregation, in honor of a desire or prayer he or she has, buys the mawlood for the gathered worshippers. The mawlood includes special celebratory food that is dispersed at the conclusion of worship in a particular order: nougat, cookies, juice. Here, we see the nougat being passed out.
As the juice is handed out, the women playing daff and tapl take miniature breaks to accept the drinks. The singer, though, does not stop. Other women accept the juice for her and place it near her for when there is the right moment in the worship.
Men and boys of all ages throw themselves into the worship. Though children are cherished in this tekiye, they are explicitly encouraged not to come to the worship too young. The path of a Sufi must be consciously chosen, not indoctrination. Sheikh Yusuf, the spiritual leader has said, “When we find children here, we say, ‘Go home! Read a book!’ But they sneak in…”
Some men, praying, raising their hands to call on God. A man in front, other men behind. They raise their hands as the prayer draws to a close, and they wish to offer up their individual prayers. A man audibly calls on God by his many names. The mullah beings to speak.
Another man raises his hand in prayer. The sheikh names and praises key figures in Islam and in Qadiri Sufism. After each name, as is common practice, the man raises his hands to his face and gently exhales with the word, “Amen,” to ensure the prayer will reach God.
The men begin to line up for prayers. Some men gesture for another to join them, making space for him between them. The mullah emphasizes, “We should believe in no god except God and Muhammad as his prophet.”
It is not uncommon for men to clasp hands in worship, as is seen here. In the final moments of the worship, the percussion’s tempo increases and the men respond with fervor.
It is not uncommon for men to clasp hands in worship, as is seen here. In the final moments of the worship, the percussion’s tempo increases and the men respond with fervor. The men move individually and in lines joined at the hands.
Inside the tekiye, people sit and listen to the sermon. In the background is the mullah’s voice. He speaks of examples to help people live better and think differently than their context.
The mullah speaks directly to the assembled worshippers referencing Abdul Qadir Gaylani, the founder of the Qadiri Order, which the Talabani Tekiye follows.
A man with his white beard listens with others to the sheikh. In deference to Kirkuk’s diversity, the language of the sermon is in Arabic. In other Kurdish-held cities such as Sulaimani or Erbil, the sermons would likely be in Kurdish. The mullah ends the sermon by affirming that there is no god to be worshipped except God and that Muhammed is the final prophet.
A young boy prays as the sheikh speaks. He wears a t-shirt with army print that portrays Kurdish colors and a soldier. He sneaks a peek at the cameraman and then dedicates himself once more to his prayers.
Men enter the tekiye as the Quran is read over the minaret’s loudspeaker. Inscribed over the gate the men enter are the phrases, “Majidiya Mosque, Talabani Tekiye, “Those who believe, and whose hearts find satisfaction in the remembrance of Allah: for without doubt in remembrance of Allah do hearts find satisfaction” (Quran, Ar-Ra’d, 28:13).
From the perspective of the inner circle of men, focused on the mullah singing, we see the early phases of the worship: swaying and the emphatic exhale.
In addition to swaying, bending, and head-banging, worshippers often whirl, as in Turkish and other traditional depictions of Sufis lost in prayer. Here, we see many different kinds of worship in one frame.
In addition to swaying, bending, and head-banging, worshippers often whirl, as in Turkish and other traditional depictions of Sufis lost in prayer. Here, we see many different kinds of worship in one frame. Each man speaks only one word, “Live.”
In addition to swaying, bending, and head-banging, worshippers often whirl, as in Turkish and other traditional depictions of Sufis lost in prayer. Here, we see many different kinds of worship in one frame.
The inner circle, a group of men who lead the singing, includes a man whirling, but also the singer who teaches others the scales and songs of the tekiye.