Rabia Hershey is a contributing writer for Arab News. She filed this piece from Mina, Saudi Arabia, for CNN.com on Saturday, March 3.

One New York woman's thoughts about the Hajj

MINA, Saudi Arabia -- Up until the day before I left I kept asking myself "Why am I bothering to go this year? What do I expect to end up with when it's all over this year? To get back to the natural center as spiritual retreats help you do?"

Well, that may happen but this year, but I am not too focused on that. I've felt washed out and drained because of the pain I have seen on so many faces this year -- sadness that had crept into my heart. I had no idea how I was going to get back up on my feet and keep going on. Nor could I find a strong enough reason to push as hard as I have in years past. For the first time I strongly faced the realization that my inspiration came from the "global" inspiration that comes from going to the Hajj, and giving to the process of helping it take place, no matter how small the contribution.

To revive myself at the oldest house of worship on the planet, I had to face that unless I became more interested in the survival of the planet's believers, I would not be able to really feel anything from making the Hajj, and all it would be for me would be a repeated ritual. Boy, the truth of that realization did me a world of good. It's been a hard year and I needed to drink from the ritual of our prophets, and look into how that revival could be integrated into the world that I touched. That sounded better the more I thought about it. Partaking in the history of this pilgrimage really rang a bell for me, because the first time that I went to the Hajj was in 1972, and here it was 2001. My excitement was building.

Someone asked me today what are some of the first things that I remember about my first Hajj. Two things came to mind: The warmth of the people and the difficulty in providing sanitation and safety for such large numbers of people.

In those days everything was so confusing, unsanitary and disorganized, that coming from a city like New York it could have been terrifying. But the affectionate warmth the people poured on me because I was a stranger made it easy to adjust to the conditions. Everywhere you looked there were warm people, agreeably smiling, offering tea, food and trying to do whatever they could to make you feel at home and comfortable -- even though you were a total stranger and they were unable to speak English.

If you wanted to go to the toilet and you were a woman, you would be mighty lucky if you knew how to drape your garment around you. Your only other choice would be a filthy closet. Now not only do we have freshly cleaned toilets, hot and cold running water for the showers -- but we are even provided a shelf for our personal articles. For the neatness of the facilities and grounds we can thank the teamwork of the hard working mainly Bangladeshi workers, under the efforts of the Saudi authorities who have the daunting task of providing a trouble-free Hajj. They are responsible for the safety of more than 2 million people, and have more than risen to an excellent international example for the world to learn from.

There is a neat flow of traffic. Cars whisk down clean streets in an organized flow. Many policemen are assisting the smooth movement of cars and people. This is Hajj 2001. The mass confusion and sloppy handling of crowds is a thing of the past. The smooth logistics, handling so many people, is a dream come true for me. The first Hajj I went to almost three decades ago was anything but.