The morning stillness amidst a round of wide roads and rising glass towers, is sharply cut by a booming loud speaker. A hymn resonates through the square of homes around the temple. The four corners sing together in perfected harmony. The voice...steadily quivering through the glade of the rising sun. The dewdrops from the air conditioner unsteaily melt to die in a liquid with the warmth of the morning song. The sleeping mind awakes silently through a sleepy haze... Its morning. Allah has spoken. And I am in the middle east.