Oakland, USA - People once sought taweez to heal scorpion and snake bites. Today in Silicon Valley, the ancient prayer is believed to ward off migraines, messy marriages and depression.
While some say the Muslim practice of taweez prayers is dead here in the sophisticated Bay Area, others are proving that untrue. Though it goes largely unnoticed by the mainstream, the ritual was a factor in at least two high-profile crimes last year and is practiced regularly in rented halls, mosques and Bay Area living rooms.
Considered to be a highly spiritual, even mystical, practice, taweez is not for everyone -- it has a niche audience, even among Muslims. Believers drink water infused with passages from the Koran or wear amulets containing holy words. They hope God will protect them from harm.
Spiritual healing cuts across culture and class, and shows how in times of despair, faith runs deep.
``You can't go to a doctor and say, `I have a case of black magic, can you give me some Tylenol?' '' said Feraidoon Mojadedi, 37, of Fremont, whose Afghan family claims powerful Islamic lineage and whose uncle is a spiritual master. ``You need a taweez.''
Taweez, from the Arabic root word, ``protection,'' is especially popular in India, Pakistan and Afghanistan. Afghans, at least 20,000 of whom fled their birthplace and now live in Fremont, are particularly drawn to the practice. Historically, war-torn Afghanistan has been home to more mullahs than doctors, and today the life of a Silicon Valley Afghan typically is hard. Many suffer health ailments, don't speak English well and work low-paying jobs.
Last year, two suspects sought help from taweez prayers, though scant attention was paid to that fact by the media or police. Omeed Aziz Popal, 29, the Afghan-American charged with running over 18 people with his SUV in San Francisco and killing one Fremont man in August, went for taweez to help him overcome mental illness, family members said. He also sought help from Western doctors.
`Proof' in trial
And prosecutors alleged that Hamid Hayat, 23, a Lodi man from Pakistan convicted in April of providing support to terrorists and lying to the FBI, was a jihadi warrior partly because they found a taweez prayer card in his wallet. A defense witness, however, testified that the particular Arabic passage, ``Oh, Allah, we place you at their throats and we seek refuge in you from their evil,'' is popular with many Muslims, especially travelers.
``I went, once, to do taweez for my sister who has cancer,'' said a Fremont Afghan immigrant who asked that her name not be used because she doesn't want her friends to know she believes in supernatural healing powers. ``I'm not sure if it worked, but her cancer hasn't grown. I went because I hoped it would help.''
Across cultures
Beliefs in spiritual healing are universal. Native American tribes have long relied on medicine men. Some Hindus mark their faces with charcoal to ward off evil and use charms for good luck. During the Mexican-Catholic tradition of milagro, or ``miracle,'' worshipers bring a decorative figure to a saint, and promise that if they're blessed with good fortune, they'll repay that with a good deed.
``Humans are problem solvers,'' said Paul Parker, professor of theology and religion at Elmhurst College in Illinois. ``And when we're in need, most of us turn to a power greater than ourselves for a solution. If our physician or lawyer can't fix it, we go to a transcendental power. Who is the greatest power? God.''
Ahmad Saed Mojaddedi, 65, a religious leader in Alameda who immigrated from Afghanistan in the 1980s, said about 10 people a month come to him seeking taweez. A religiously trained elder dressed in a camel-colored fez and sporting a long white beard, Mojaddedi described the practice over a cup of coffee in a Fremont cafe, his nephew translating from Dari.
The two biggest issues people want him to help with: rocky marriages and unemployment.
Prescribing the proper scripture from the Koran follows a precise formula, Mojaddedi explained, and always accompanies personal counseling and encouragement. If someone has a psychological problem, Mojaddedi offers a glass of water that has been infused with a passage from the Koran written with saffron ink. For other ailments, he scans the Koran for the correct verse, writes it down, wraps it up in white cloth and tells the troubled soul to wear it, sometimes tucked inside a decorative amulet.
``This is not guaranteed,'' he said. ``It's all in the hands of God. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. It all depends on the person's belief.''
Private matter
Taweez is so sacred and personal, Mojaddedi said, that many view it as more intimate than seeing a therapist, doctor or priest. Therefore, people who seek such help are usually reluctant to tell others about it. With an authentic taweez, no money should exchange hands, though Mojaddedi said he often is thanked with chocolates or small gifts.
Controversy swirls in taweez circles wherever the practice exists: There will always be some quacks who charge exorbitant fees and make promises they can't deliver. The ritual can also be used for evil, though the handful of the Bay Area's legitimate taweez practitioners say they frown on ``black magic.''
To properly administer taweez, three Bay Area practitioners explained, an adviser must be ``spiritually licensed'' by a master who trains and gives permission to bless others.
An Afghan businesswoman in Fremont who asked that her name not be used because she didn't want her daughter to know, paid $200 for a taweez, not realizing it was improper for her to be charged a fee.
Daughter's betrothed
``My daughter wanted to get married and I really don't like that guy,'' she said. She was told to dunk one passage of the Koran in water, and bury another passage by an old grave site. Her daughter married the man anyway.
``I went because I was desperate, but it didn't help,'' she said. She believes her particular practitioner was a fraud, but she's willing to give taweez another shot if that spiritual leader came recommended.
Mohamad Rajabally, a dentist and prominent leader at Fremont's largest mosque who is also on the executive council of the Islamic Society of North America, said the ritual is popular mostly with uneducated villagers and elders, a far cry from the majority of engineers and professionals in Silicon Valley.
But Ayyaz Yousaf, 40, a Pakistani-born software engineer in San Jose who offers taweez regularly, challenges that stereotype. Two dozen people, from various socioeconomic levels and parts of the world, come to his rented Fremont hall each Sunday evening, for spiritual counseling. Non-Muslims come, too, he said. Once, a Sikh family carried an alcoholic relative in their arms. After weeks of drinking water touched by words of the Koran, Yousaf said the man kicked the addiction.
``There are not too many people here who are fully aware of the spiritual path,'' Yousaf said. ``That's all this is.''