Over the daily morning cacophony of the Borama streets came the deep, clear song of the muezzin, reminding faithful Muslims that prayer is better than sleep. Salat, the second of Islam’s five pillars, governs Muslims’ daily lives. Five times a day, men gather at the mosque and women pull prayer rugs from closets. Why? I wondered. What was the man behind the speaker saying? How many of my neighbors responded to his call? Did it feel like a joy or a burden? Or both? How did they experience God in those moments? Was that the only way Muslims prayed?

Maybe interfaith dialogue starts with curiosity.