A public service announcement: Do not panic if, while facing a mirror, you see a solo, curly and persistent gray hair shooting out of your ear, as if escaping a decaying body, like rats leaving a sinking ship. Everything will be fine; it is nothing but a sign of a chronic disease, called aging. Though ultimately fatal, it won’t kill you right away.

With no background in medicine, I’d depend on reliable sources, who tell me aging is an epidemic ailment happening all over the world. It knows no gender, race, class, ethnicity, religion or sexual orientation. All are at risk. What bothers me, as someone at high risk, is why we weren’t warned of this malady before. For instance, we could’ve studied al-aging instead of algebra. Unable to find a use for algebra in adult life, tips on aging would’ve been nice.

Now, if you happen to see many elderly and folks with gray hair around, that may be good. You still have good sight, for Maine is officially the oldest state in the country. But, before you start to yawn and head for the exit, there’s more good news to share: As refugees, immigrants, asylum seekers and others arrive to start a new life in Maine, our cities are gaining some color. Maine is taking baby steps to look like the rest of the country and the world beyond. Immigrants arrive, contribute and add, just as the others before did, to the magic of America. Also, they’re changing the spiritual landscape of our state. Once mostly a Christian community, Maine is now a pluralistic society, home to many hyphenated communities, including Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Sikhs and Baha’is, in addition to Pagans and those who believe in no God. Maine now hosts some 10 mosques, a Buddhist temple and a Hindu one, an African and a Serb Orthodox houses of worship and churches of different forms of Christianity crowded by immigrants worshiping, singing and praising their Creator in languages as diverse as Spanish, Vietnamese, Chinese, Korean, Nubia, Arabic and French, to name a few. This is amazing considering it is happening in Maine, which was once named as the most “unchurched” state in the United States.

Just as in the past, refugees and immigrants arrive in Maine, with hope for a better future in addition to their spiritual beliefs tucked away in their hearts, where no hand of secret police and army could reach. In most cases, their names and faith traditions are all they have of their past, reminding them of their lives and communities lost to political and social upheavals.

Thankfully, the coloring of Maine continues in other ways, as well: Portland has a vibrant gay community, drawn to the area for its acceptance and progressive politics. Similarly, writers and artists, young and old, add color and shape to Maine’s cities with their pens, brushes, chisels. Dancers and musicians are doing their part to put Maine on the national artistic map. Maine, once seen in white and black, resembling an ink drawing of Aroostook County in winter, is now a rainbow of colors. These days, in cities across Maine, Muslim worshipers kneel down in their mosques, bringing their forehead to the floor in humility and submission, just as Buddhists and Hindus chant and burn incense, and many churches in southern Maine vibrate with the sound of worshipers calling their Lord in languages other than English. This is magical, considering Maine, a graying state, is in desperate need of population to survive. It is either the newcomers coming to Maine to start a new life, or, somehow, by some magic, we find a quick cure for aging.

 

Reza Jalali, a writer and an educator, is the author of “Homesick Mosque and Other Stories” and “Poets and the Assassin,” a play about women in Iran and Islam.

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